Chapter 337: Empress Dowager Xiang Sets a Plan, Zhao Yu and Meng Xiang Enter the Game

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As previously mentioned, when constructing the Yanfu Palace, Zhao Yu specifically ordered the construction of several secret passages, two of which connected the original imperial palace to the Yanfu Palace—one from Chong’en Palace to Liu Mingjie’s palace, and the other from the quarters of Meng Xiuyi and Meng Shunrong to Meng Xiang’s residence, Qingshou Palace.

Given that Liu Qingjing’s secret passage was used by Zhao Yu and Liu Qingjing for their clandestine affair, it is not hard to deduce that Meng Xiang’s passage was likewise used by Zhao Yu and Meng Xiang for their secret trysts.

At this point, someone eager to know might ask: Did Zhao Yu and Meng Xiang also become lovers? When did this happen?

This actually occurred fourteen years ago, shortly after Liu Qingjing became pregnant.

Here is how it happened.

At the time, although Zhao Yu had become emperor, real power rested with Empress Dowager Xiang; in a sense, Zhao Yu was merely her puppet.

Of course, describing the relationship between Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Yu in this way is inappropriate, at least inaccurate.

At that time, tensions between the conservative Old Party and the reformist New Party intensified, and some officials believed both Yuanyou and Shaosheng eras had erred, advocating the elimination of bias and reconciliation of contradictions; Empress Dowager Xiang, who also felt that Gao Taotao and Zhao Xu had made mistakes, thus championed a centrist approach to governance.

After assuming power, Empress Dowager Xiang frequently summoned ministers from both parties, earnestly urging them to set aside grievances and prioritize state affairs.

Yet the Old and New Parties had accumulated such deep animosities from years of factional strife that each viewed the other as mortal enemies, and would not easily heed Empress Dowager Xiang’s appeals.

Old Party ministers outwardly showed great respect to Empress Dowager Xiang, but secretly continued resisting New Party policies, even deliberately creating obstacles during implementation to hinder the new reforms.

Meanwhile, New Party ministers, already deeply suspicious of Empress Dowager Xiang, saw her advocacy of concessions to the Old Party as forcing them to compromise on reform achievements, fueling their resentment and intensifying their attacks on the Old Party.

On the court, the Old and New Parties continued to quarrel, even more fiercely than before.

Empress Dowager Xiang exhausted herself trying to mediate the conflict between the two factions.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yu spent that time busy securing funds and managing foreign affairs.

—In effect, Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Yu each managed their own domain.

Over time, worn out by the factional strife, Empress Dowager Xiang finally acknowledged Zhao Yu was right: patching things up through balance could not solve the problem; to resolve the Song’s factional conflict, the party barriers must be shattered and court consensus rebuilt around state affairs.

In fact—

Soon after ascending the throne, with Zhang Chun’s help, Zhao Yu had already devised a solution to the Song’s Old-New Party conflict.

Zhao Yu also explained to Empress Dowager Xiang that the root of factional strife lay in both parties placing partisan loyalty above state interests: they opposed whatever the other side supported, supported whatever the other side opposed, and even deliberately distorted policy intent to attack rivals. For instance, during implementation of the New Laws, the Old Party ignored their successes in enriching the state and strengthening the military, instead denouncing them as disruptive to the people; after the Old Party regained power, the New Party completely rejected all reasonable adjustments made during the Yuanyou Restoration, trapped in a vicious “either-or” cycle.

To break this deadlock, Zhao Yu proposed three measures:

First, judge merit by results, not party affiliation. The court should establish an independent evaluation body to quantitatively assess policy outcomes—such as whether the Green Sprout Law genuinely alleviated peasant hardship, or whether the Alternate Labor Law truly reduced burdens on the lower classes—not by partisan claims, but by hard metrics: people’s livelihood and state treasury surplus or deficit. Those with outstanding performance, regardless of party, should be promoted; those whose policies failed, even if from their own faction, must be held accountable.

Second, sever the link between factionalism and power. At the time, censors and remonstrators often became tools of factional warfare, routinely accusing colleagues based on “New” or “Old” labels. Regulations must require censors to address only specific administrative failures, strictly forbidding attacks based on “favoring allies and attacking rivals”; violators would be dismissed. Simultaneously, selection of chancellors and vice-chancellors should no longer be limited to party leaders, but drawn from officials with outstanding local performance and no strong partisan leanings; if a chancellor promoted members of his own party beyond a set proportion during his term, he must answer to the Censorate, preventing the court from becoming a private tool of one faction.

Third, resolve differences through Confucian classics, not twist classics to justify differences. The Old and New Parties often used disputes over Confucian commentary to reinforce opposition: Wang Anshi based reforms on the Three New Classics, while the Old Party upheld traditional commentaries to reject them. The court could convene scholars from both parties and neutrals to jointly compile the “Comprehensive Confucian Synthesis,” clarifying common ground in the classics regarding “reform” and “conservation,” affirming that “the governance of a state does not follow one path, nor must it emulate the ancients” was meant for the people’s welfare, not partisan victory—making the classics a bridge to reconcile differences, not a weapon for factional war.

Ultimately, factional strife stems from the misalignment of “party interest” and “state interest.” Only when all in court understand that whether “New” or “Old,” they are all ministers of Great Song, and policy choices must be judged solely by whether they benefit Song’s stability and the people’s well-being, will the soil of factionalism gradually dissolve.

Empress Dowager Xiang found Zhao Yu’s reasoning sound, but since the time of Wang Anshi’s reforms—even earlier—she had quietly observed Great Song, and held her own views on governing it.

Empress Dowager Xiang had been instrumental in placing Zhao Yu on the throne.

Moreover, Zhao Yu already knew then that Empress Dowager Xiang had only about a year left to live.

Out of sentiment and reason, Zhao Yu had to let her try.

Crucially, Zhao Yu knew Empress Dowager Xiang’s stubborn nature: once convinced, she would not change course. Better to let her hit a wall through trial, so when he later implemented his reform plan, resistance would be far weaker.

Empress Dowager Xiang enthusiastically pursued her centrist policies, attempting to find a balance between the Old and New Parties.

But the outcome proved her centrist path was utterly unworkable.

Fortunately, unlike Gao Taotao, Empress Dowager Xiang was not obstinate; seeing she could not save Great Song, and with her health failing, she swiftly handed full control of the empire to Zhao Yu, leaving him to clean up the mess.

After taking over Great Song, Zhao Yu struck immediately, crushing both the Old and New Parties.

Seeing Zhao Yu was truly more capable, Empress Dowager Xiang happily retired to rest and recover.

But at this moment, as Empress Dowager Xiang turned her attention back to the inner palace, she suddenly discovered Liu Qingjing was pregnant.

With her control over the inner palace, Empress Dowager Xiang easily confirmed the child in Liu Qingjing’s womb was Zhao Yu’s.

Fine.

In truth, Empress Dowager Xiang did not even need to investigate, for in the entire inner palace, only Zhao Yu possessed the ability to impregnate women.

Thus, even before investigation, Empress Dowager Xiang suspected Liu Qingjing’s child was Zhao Yu’s.

This enraged Empress Dowager Xiang deeply.

She even felt betrayed and disappointed.

Recall: had Liu Qingjing’s son not died, and had Zhao Xu not died shortly after, both Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Yu would have been destroyed by Liu Qingjing.

In Empress Dowager Xiang’s eyes, Liu Qingjing was an ambitious, destructive force—a woman like Daji, Bao Si, or Mei Xi, destined to ruin the state.

Crucially, at that time, Liu Qingjing still maintained close ties with the New Party.

Empress Dowager Xiang feared that if Zhao Yu, like Zhao Xu, became bewitched by Liu Qingjing, the Old Party would be in grave danger—perhaps even Great Song itself.

It was no wonder Empress Dowager Xiang harbored such fears.

Indeed, at the time, Cai Jing and others, heavily favored by Zhao Yu, argued under the banner of “continuing Emperor Shenzong’s New Laws,” branding the Old Party as the primary culprits of “destroying reform and shaking the state’s foundation,” urging Zhao Yu to “uphold his ancestors’ legacy” by tying the purge of the Old Party to “strengthening the state” and “restoring proper order.”

At the time, Cai Jing and others portrayed the Old Party as “forming cliques for personal gain” and “plotting treason,” claiming their elimination was necessary to prevent court chaos and protect imperial authority, trying to convince Zhao Yu that suppressing the Old Party was essential for governance.

Cai Jing and others—including Chancellor Zhang Dun and Vice-Chancellor Cai Bian—repeatedly attacked the Old Party in court, accusing them of “colluding with foreign enemies” and “obstructing new policies,” seeking to fabricate the illusion that “purging the Old Party was a universal consensus,” forcing Zhao Yu to acquiesce.

To this end, Cai Jing and others compiled lists of hundreds of “traitorous” Old Party officials, urging Zhao Yu to dismiss them, exile them, and ban their descendants from holding office, taking the imperial examinations, or even residing in the capital, utterly severing the Old Party’s political future.

Worse still, officials sympathetic to the Old Party or holding neutral views were also suppressed under charges of “associating with traitors” or “shielding factionalists.”

Cai Jing and others even urged Zhao Yu to order the destruction of Old Party writings and books—including Sima Guang’s Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government and Su Shi’s poetry and prose—banning their circulation among the people, attempting to erase the Old Party’s ideological influence entirely.