Chapter 65: Locked Victory

…

Zhu Taifei thought Empress Dowager Xiang was threatening her.

But upon careful reflection, Zhu Taifei broke into a cold sweat.

If Zhao Shi truly became emperor.

Given that Zhao Shi is only fifteen, someone must certainly serve as regent behind the curtain.

Who would that person be?

Normally, it should be Empress Dowager Xiang, with her rich political experience.

But… she too wanted to try wielding the highest power of the Zhao Song dynasty, so it would be best if Empress Dowager Xiang allowed her to join in regency.

Yet Empress Dowager Xiang has already made clear: if Zhao Shi truly seeks the throne, she will support mother and son.

That means Empress Dowager Xiang will not serve as regent.

In that case, only she herself could serve as regent.

She had never engaged in politics—she was merely an ordinary palace woman who had lived her entire life in quiet obedience; how could she possibly serve as regent?

Thinking further of the current chaotic political environment, where the New and Old Parties are locked in bitter conflict, and of Zhao Song’s urgent need for reform yet complete uncertainty over how to proceed, Zhu Taifei panicked!

“Can I and Shi’er accomplish what the Emperor himself could not?”

Even these concerns were not immediate.

What was burning at her heels was how to negotiate peace with Liao and Xia.

If the negotiations failed, surrendering sovereignty and inviting national humiliation, not only would she bear eternal infamy, but if Liao and Xia united to invade Song, the Chanyuan Incident might truly recur.

Flee southward without fighting?

Didn’t Emperor Zhenzong of Song once think the same? Yet Kou Zhun nearly forced him onto the battlefield, dragging him there against his will.

If Liao were to launch another large-scale southern invasion, Zhang Dun, that warlike man, would surely emulate Kou Zhun.

What would we, a widow and her orphan, do then?

“Disaster! I only thought that if my Shi’er became emperor, we mother and son would continue to enjoy supreme glory—but I never considered the thousand-jin burdens and thorny paths hidden behind that glory.”

Zhu Taifei’s heart pounded like drumbeats; her face grew paler still!

Only now did Zhu Taifei recall that during Emperor Shenzong’s reign and Zhao Xu’s rule, though both had wished to revitalize the court, neither could escape the quagmire of factional strife—the New and Old Parties clashed like oil on fire, utterly irreconcilable, until Emperor Shenzong died in his thirties and Zhao Xu fell gravely ill by his twenties.

If this mess were left to a fifteen-year-old boy and a politically inexperienced woman like herself to clean up, wasn’t she essentially hanging herself from the longevity god’s beard—and dragging her last remaining son with her?

Zhu Taifei finally realized that the struggle for the throne was not merely a game of power, but a matter of national survival and the people’s safety—something no ordinary person could bear.

Most crucially, even if one seized the throne, it was not necessarily desirable—her eldest son had seized it, yet what was the result? He was barely in his twenties and already near death.

Seeing Zhu Taifei finally grasp the stakes, Empress Dowager Xiang spoke slowly: “You already have one son as emperor. As long as you make no mistakes, you will enjoy wealth and honor for life; and when I die, you may even become Empress Dowager to the late Emperor. Why cling to a role you cannot handle, risking yourself and Prince Jian’s entire future?”

Here, Empress Dowager Xiang concluded: “If you are wise, go recommend Prince Shen as Prefect of Kaifeng, securing protection for yourself and Prince Jian. But if you insist on challenging me and Prince Shen, then come at me.”

Zhu Taifei turned pale with shock! She had never imagined Empress Dowager Xiang had truly committed to Zhao Yu.

Zhu Taifei wanted to ask: Is Zhao Yu truly so much stronger than my Shi’er?

But before Zhu Taifei could speak, Empress Dowager Xiang waved her hand, signaling her to leave.

Zhu Taifei stumbled out, hollow-eyed; Empress Dowager Xiang watched her retreating back and murmured: “Don’t think I’m bullying you—I’m helping you because you’ve yielded to me for decades. Prince Shen is determined to claim the throne; those who obey live, those who resist die. You and your son are too honest—you cannot be his match.”

Empress Dowager Xiang did not tell Zhu Taifei many things.

For instance, she suspected Zhao Yu had deliberately drawn near to her.

For instance, she suspected Zhao Mao’s death, Princess Yang’s death, and even Zhao Xu’s illness were all tied to Zhao Yu.

For instance, she suspected Zhao Yu was using Zhang Chun to manipulate her, making her believe Zhao Yu was destined by Heaven.

Yet even the imperial physicians had confirmed Zhao Mao and Princess Yang died of congenital illnesses, and Zhao Xu had been frail since childhood—blaming Zhao Yu was too far-fetched.

But perhaps because she had witnessed too many conspiracies, Empress Dowager Xiang truly felt these recent events were too coincidental—Zhang Chun had foreseen Zhao Mao’s death, and predicted Princess Yang’s and Zhao Xu’s misfortunes as well—it was too miraculous.

Sometimes Empress Dowager Xiang truly envied Zhu Taifei—simple-minded, lucky, spending her entire life without a care, yet still enjoying wealth and honor, unlike herself, who had schemed her whole life, only to end up unsure whether she had outmaneuvered others or been outmaneuvered herself.

“Perhaps I’m overthinking it. Prince Shen is simply a filial son, Zhang Chun truly had a divine vision that lets her foretell the future, Prince Shen is truly Heaven’s chosen, the restorer of our Great Song.”

“At least Prince Shen’s insight and ability are real—he is steady and reliable, truly the one most likely to save our Great Song.”

“Enough. Better to be foolishly blind.”

…

Concerned that Empress Dowager Xiang had grown suspicious, Zheng Xiansu had secretly warned Zhao Yu.

To be honest, before this, Zhao Yu had indeed worried Empress Dowager Xiang might betray him at the last moment.

For this reason, Zhao Yu had prepared contingency plans.

But now, Empress Dowager Xiang had made her final choice.

Then there was no problem.

Politics always boils down to this: it doesn’t matter what you did—it matters only whether you won.

Though nearly a month still remains until the historical date of Zhao Xu’s death, because the six of them had already altered key events, history had already changed; under these circumstances, Zhao Xu dying a few days early was entirely possible.

Crucially, the imperial physicians had already condemned Zhao Xu, declaring he had only two days left.

Even if Zhao Xu managed to cling to life a few more days, his authority and influence over succession were now negligible.

Who would sincerely obey the orders of an emperor with only days to live, to block the path of the new sovereign?

This is the fate of the fallen: when the man leaves, the tea grows cold—a common end for those in politics, especially when no heir is properly established.

Even if Zhao Xu came to his senses, abandoned hope of a medical miracle, and wished to name Zhao Ji or Zhao Shi as crown prince, his edict would never leave the palace.

Not only have Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Yu’s people already sealed off Zhao Xu, but even Zhao Xu’s own loyalists, given the chance, would seize this final opportunity to earn a great merit, hoping to switch allegiances and retain power and glory.

Most crucially, Empress Dowager Xiang and the imperial house have already staked everything—they cannot afford to lose, so they will never allow anyone other than Zhao Yu to ascend the throne; otherwise, what awaits them is not the reward of founding a new reign, but political purge.

One can only say that, out of greed for power or unwillingness to die young, Zhao Xu lost control over succession.

At this stage, if Zhao Xu is still lucid, his wisest move is to proactively name Zhao Yu crown prince, or appoint him Prefect of Kaifeng, clearly declaring Zhao Yu his heir—forging a good bond with Zhao Yu, preserving his dignity, and leaving a political legacy for Liu Qingjing, Zhu Taifei, Zhao Shi, and his two remaining daughters.

As for what Zhao Xu ultimately chooses, it no longer matters—Zhao Yu has already locked the victory.

Zhao Yu even had the confidence to make Zhao Yu abdicate in his favor today.

But there was no need.

After escorting all imperial family members away, Zhao Yu stood in the courtyard of Cide Palace, gazing toward the heart of the palace, his heart swelling with fervor: “My era is about to begin!”

At that moment, while Zhao Yu was unattended, Li Lin slipped close and whispered: “Congratulations, Your Highness, on your imminent ascension to the throne—does Your Highness desire a mighty army to sweep the world for you…?”

…

(End of Chapter)