Chapter 297

…

He had to admit, Xiao Sese had given Zhao Yu a completely new idea—and a highly feasible one.

Historically, Yelu Chun, after being enthroned as Emperor of Northern Liao, reigned for only three months before dying.

Before Yelu Chun's death, as the Liao Dynasty was on the brink of collapse, his rule was merely an attempt to maintain a crumbling situation under crisis, and his performance was actually quite mediocre.

At that time, Yelu Yanxi was fleeing from Jin forces, the Liao regime had disintegrated, and officials and nobles in the Liao Nanjing (i. e., Yanjing) region, seeking self-preservation, enthroned Yelu Chun, forming the Northern Liao regime, but its territory was confined only to parts of Yan-Yun.

Externally, it faced fierce attacks from Jin forces, while the Northern Song Dynasty also took the opportunity to launch a northern expedition, attempting to reclaim the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun; Northern Liao found itself trapped between two fronts.

Faced with such a political environment, Yelu Chun made only limited responses, mostly out of helplessness. After ascending the throne, he swiftly appointed ministers like Li Chuweng, attempting to consolidate remaining forces and maintain order in the Nanjing region, temporarily uniting the remnants of the Liao. He adopted a hardline stance toward the Song Dynasty, repelling the Song army led by Tong Guan, temporarily easing southern pressure; he also tried to negotiate peace with the Jin, but his overtures were rejected, leaving him with virtually no diplomatic space.

Lacking legitimate support from Yelu Yanxi, his regime suffered severe internal divisions (e. g., some generals still remained loyal to Yelu Yanxi), and its military strength was too weak to resist Jin offensives.

Yelu Chun's rule was a brief interlude in the Liao Dynasty's collapse. Though he attempted to salvage the situation, he was constrained by objective circumstances (the Jin's overwhelming strength, the Northern Song's massive army pressing to reclaim Yan-Yun, the Liao's foundational collapse, etc.), and ultimately could not turn the tide. His actions during his reign were largely reactive, failing to alter Northern Liao's inevitable downfall.

Overall, Yelu Chun's conduct reflected the struggle of a regional power in turbulent times: though he made efforts to sustain his rule, he was limited by his era and strength, ultimately becoming a footnote in the history of the Liao's demise.

In short, based on Yelu Chun's historical performance, even with Zhao Yu's support, it was uncertain whether he could pose any real threat to Wanyan Aguda.

So Yelu Chun was not actually the best candidate.

But before this, Zhao Yu had no better option, which was why he considered Yelu Chun.

Now, however, Xiao Sese had given Zhao Yu the new idea of Empress Dowager rule, and Zhao Yu's mind immediately came alive. He developed a better, more feasible plan based on Xiao Sese's suggestion.

At the same time, Zhao Yu shook his head at Xiao Sese, rejecting her self-recommendation.

Seeing this, Xiao Sese was utterly disappointed, even harboring resentment toward Zhao Yu. She had believed that with her intelligence and deep insight into the situation, she could become a pivotal figure shaping Liao's future—and even the fate of the entire realm. Yet Zhao Yu's slight shake of the head was like an icy blade in the cold wind, instantly slicing her fervor and hope into fragments.

Crucially, to achieve this goal, Xiao Sese was willing to sacrifice her own elder sister, her younger sister, and even her entire family to Zhao Yu.

Even more crucially, if she failed to persuade Zhao Yu, Xiao Sese might not be able to save her son, Yelu Ao.

Moreover, no woman in the harem did not hope her son would become Emperor, and the two sons Xiao Sese bore Zhao Yu were certainly ineligible to inherit Zhao Yu's throne—so Yelu Ao was Xiao Sese's only chance.

Added to that, her feelings for her homeland.

Xiao Sese's emotions fluttered like autumn leaves caught in the wind—drifting, yet filled with unwillingness. She gazed into Zhao Yu's deep, complex eyes, trying to detect a glimmer of hope, but saw only resolve and calm.

Zhao Yu knew that the game of power admitted no trace of feminine sentiment, nor could emotional entanglements become burdens on decision-making. Though he admired Xiao Sese's wit and courage, on this treacherous political chessboard, every move had to be precise, with no room for error.

Moreover, Xiao Sese could make him, her current master, poison her former husband—even though Yelu Yanxi was truly beyond redemption and had inflicted immense suffering upon her; it was fair to say she bore a grudge against Yelu Yanxi—but this still revealed her utter ruthlessness and hardened heart, beyond ordinary comprehension.

Zhao Yu silently pondered: 'This woman is undoubtedly a ruthless one. If I place her at the core of power, will she betray me for self-preservation or greater gain if the situation shifts?'

This doubt, like a shadow in the dark night, quietly settled over Zhao Yu's heart.

Zhao Yu had another, greater concern: if he let Xiao Sese return to Liao and granted her the highest power there, would she take several concubine lovers?

'If that happens, wouldn't my green hat take flight?'

Zhao Yu didn't think he was overthinking.

Didn't Li Zhi treat Wu Zetian well enough?

Wu Zetian had once been Li Shimin's concubine, serving him for over a decade. Li Zhi, disregarding social conventions, brought her back from the monastery and later made her Empress—what a monumental breakthrough at the time?

In his later years, Li Zhi's health declined, so he allowed Wu Zetian to participate in state affairs, calling them 'Two Holy Ones,' even entrusting her with governance, granting her unprecedented power—how much trust and tolerance was that?

Overall, Wu Zetian's status in the harem remained secure thanks to Li Zhi's support.

Could any emperor have treated a woman better than that?

But what did Wu Zetian do?

After Li Zhi's death, she usurped the Li family's Jiangshan, and openly kept concubine lovers—Xue Huaiyi, and the brothers Zhang Yizhi and Zhang Changzong—who indulged freely in her harem, wielded unchecked power in the Wuzhou court, interfered in state affairs, and trampled the dignity of the Tang Empire underfoot.

Worse still, to conceal her own disgrace, she ruthlessly murdered her own children born to Li Zhi; Li Xian and Li Dan trembled under her tyranny, and the Tang imperial bloodline nearly perished in her hands.

Wu Zetian's actions were undoubtedly the greatest mockery of Li Zhi's deep affection, trust, and tolerance.

And this was no isolated case; countless historical examples proved that when women gained power, they often did astonishing, insane, cruel things—treating authority as personal playthings, squandering it to satisfy their own desires.

Zhao Yu knew well: power was like strong liquor—it could intoxicate, and it could corrupt; and when women entered its realm, they were even more easily corroded, becoming unrecognizable.