Chapter 61: Growing More Imperial by the Day

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To prove to the world that he could still be saved, Zhao Xu insisted on personally presiding over the suburban sacrifice.

The suburban sacrifice was the grand ritual in which the Son of Heaven worshipped Heaven and Earth, a symbol of imperial identity and a mark of legitimate rule.

The winter solstice sacrifice to Heaven was an activity deeply valued by rulers throughout history, a state ceremony of the highest importance.

The Zhao Song dynasty's ritual for sacrificing to Heaven followed the "tripartite personal suburban sacrifice" system: once every three years, on the winter solstice in the eleventh month, the Emperor personally presided over the offering to Haotian at the Round Altar south of Dongjing Bianliang.

The ceremony was solemn and intricate, but the Emperor needed only to follow the ritual officials' guidance and perform the well-rehearsed prescribed motions.

For a normal Emperor, this was no difficult task.

But for Zhao Xu, suffering from grave illness, it was an extraordinary challenge—every step felt like treading on knife tips, every breath accompanied by violent heaving of his chest.

Yet Zhao Xu stubbornly persisted.

In Zhao Xu's view, this was devotion to his ancestors' legacy, a demonstration of his strength to the world, and defiance against the injustice of fate.

Before the eyes of all, Zhao Xu wore elaborate sacrificial robes, crowned with a twelve-bead mian, each step heavy yet resolute. His face, pale from illness, bore eyes that glowed with unyielding light.

Ritual officials held long poles, guiding the banners symbolizing Heaven and Earth's deities as they slowly ascended the altar.

Zhao Xu struggled to the summit of the altar; according to ancient rites, he first offered jade bi and silk to Haotian Shangdi, then ritual officials recited the sacrificial text, praying for national peace, prosperity, and bountiful harvests.

Though his body had reached its limit by the time he climbed the altar, he still completed the grand sacrifice to Heaven, standing firm in the biting cold wind.

Zhao Xu believed his performance had been perfect.

Yes.

For an Emperor ravaged by illness, Zhao Xu's performance had been remarkable.

But anyone with eyes could see Zhao Xu was merely holding on—he was at his last breath.

Zhao Xu's purpose in personally presiding over the suburban sacrifice was to prove to the world that he had merely suffered a minor illness, that given time, he would recover, and that no one should rush to choose a new Emperor.

But fate defied his wishes.

Zhao Xu's efforts failed to soothe the deep anxieties of court and realm.

On the contrary, after the sacrifice, though Zhao Xu, clinging to his frail body, slowly descended the altar, striving to display the majestic bearing of an Emperor, his unmistakable weakness and exhaustion resembled the final sunset of winter—brilliant, yet unable to conceal its impending doom.

What further unsettled the ministers was that, before dawn, as officials gathered to offer congratulations, an owl perched atop the palace roof let out a chilling "laugh."

Seeing this, whether royal family or court ministers, all exchanged uneasy glances, silently wondering what ominous omen this ill-omened bird might portend.

The censors began exchanging worried glances.

Zhang Dun and other chief ministers, though fearing that a new Emperor would mean a new court and dreading the loss of Zhao Xu, could not avoid preparing for the worst.

It could be said that, aside from Zhao Xu himself, everyone believed appointing a Crown Prince was now urgent.

But how to persuade this Emperor, so lacking in self-awareness, to agree to name a Crown Prince remained a daunting question haunting every mind…

…

In this era, the winter solstice was a vital festival. On this day, people changed into new clothes, prepared food and drink, and honored their ancestors. The government granted holidays, and celebrations flowed freely—much like the New Year.

After the suburban sacrifice, all members of the imperial family came to Cide Palace to pay respects to Empress Dowager and celebrate the festival together.

Even in past years, the Emperor and Empress had personally visited Empress Dowager.

Zhao Yu, who had not visited Cide Palace for some time, was no exception.

As Zhao Yu walked toward Cide Palace, he sighed in pity for Zhao Xu.

In Zhao Yu's view, Zhao Xu was among the better emperors of the Song dynasty—not cowardly, and full of ambition.

Yet his conduct in this final phase of his life fell far short of expectations.

Though already mortally ill, he failed to plan for his legacy, to arrange matters properly; blinded by fog, he ignored the crises of Zhao Song's declining power, court turmoil, and border unrest, drowning instead in personal sorrow and the despair of medicine's futility.

Zhao Yu silently thought: "After ruling too long, perhaps one becomes burdened by the solitude and weight of supreme power, forgetting one's original aspirations and losing one's edge. Zhao Xu once vowed to revive the Song dynasty, to sweep away its accumulated poverty and weakness, to ensure the people lived in peace and the borders were secure. Yet now, on his sickbed, he has not laid plans to ensure his reform policies endure; instead, he allows conservative forces to surge back, the court's discipline deteriorating daily—this is a great misfortune for the state."

Zhao Yu had once hoped that this Zhao Xu, wiser than his historical counterpart, would seize his remaining authority to settle his legacy—appointing a prince most capable of inheriting his reformist ideals and most likely to lead the Zhao Song dynasty toward revival as Prefect of Kaifeng.

—The Prefect or Governor of Kaifeng was not commonly appointed in the Song dynasty, because both Songtai Sect and Song Zhen Sect had held this post before becoming Emperor.

For this reason, Zhao Yu had carefully impressed Zhao Xu over a long period.

But the outcome proved that Zhao Xu, facing death, was no stronger than many ordinary men.

As Zhao Yu approached Cide Palace, he was still lost in these thoughts and failed to notice Zhao Bi, Zhao Si, and Zhao Si waiting at the gate for eunuchs to announce them—he walked straight in, as usual.

The gate guards, seeing Zhao Yu approach, did not stop him; instead, they beamed and ushered him in, while surrounding eunuchs, junior attendants, and palace maids gathered around him.

Just as Zhao Yu instinctively prepared to chat with the crowd gathering around him, Liang Shicheng whispered behind him: "Your Highness, Prince Shen, Prince Jian, and Prince Mu are here."

Zhao Yu turned and saw Zhao Bi, Zhao Si, and Zhao Si all staring at him expectantly.

Zhao Yu slapped his forehead: "Look at me—so lost in thought, I forgot to have them announce me."

As he spoke, Zhao Yu signaled to the surrounding eunuchs, attendants, and maids to hold back, then walked over and stood among Zhao Bi and the other two, waiting for the announcement.

Those who speak well are not as perceptive as those who observe well.

Zhao Bi and the other two could not fail to notice that Zhao Yu's arrival at Cide Palace was like returning home—key was, Cide Palace's staff took it for granted and were deeply close to Zhao Yu.

This clearly showed that Zhao Yu's bond with Empress Dowager far surpassed theirs; the rumors that Zhao Yu had fallen out with her and thus avoided Cide Palace for a while were false.

Now, with Zhao Xu gravely ill and without sons, the imperial clan could not allow the throne to pass to a distant relative—it must remain within the imperial bloodline.

Moreover, Zhao Xu himself had no intention of adopting a son.

Thus, if Zhao Xu's condition does not improve, the next Emperor will emerge from among these princes.

Currently, the greatest voice in deciding who becomes Emperor belongs to Zhao Xu, followed by Empress Dowager.

But Zhao Xu, clinging stubbornly to hope for a medical miracle, is gradually losing his influence.

If this drags on any longer, the decision of who becomes Emperor may become Empress Dowager's sole pronouncement.

So who will become the next Emperor?

Zhao Bi and the other three looked unconsciously toward Zhao Yu—whose imperial bearing was growing ever stronger…

…

(End of chapter)