Chapter 91: Achieve 25% Progress on the Transmigrator Mission

…

After Zhang Chun and Yuan Qingcheng reminded her, Li Lin finally understood: Zhao Yu had not tricked her or stood her up—he had already given her an opportunity, and she had failed to seize it.

Moreover, Tong Guan had likely guessed too: Zhao Yu wanted him to learn the tactics of the tiger squat cannon and thunder bomb, but after waiting eagerly for a long time without learning them, he sighed deeply and left in disappointment.

Only she had never understood Zhao Yu’s intent, fretting uselessly and blaming him for denying her chances—only to misjudge a good man and miss a golden opportunity.

Li Lin said regretfully: “Why did Zhao Yu go through all this trouble?”

Yuan Qingcheng speculated: “Most likely because you’re too young and a woman—no one would take you seriously—so Zhao Yu wanted Tong Guan to be your mouthpiece, conveying your military ideas to the two new armies through him.”

“But he didn’t need to play riddles with me,” Li Lin said. She understood what Yuan Qingcheng meant, but she couldn’t fathom why Zhao Yu wouldn’t just speak plainly instead of being so roundabout.

Yuan Qingcheng spread her hands, indicating she had no answer.

Seeing this, Zhang Chun explained to Li Lin: “Have you ever considered Tong Guan’s feelings?”

“Tong Guan’s feelings?” Li Lin paused. “What feelings?”

Zhang Chun said calmly: “Tong Guan once commanded over half of the Song Army’s forces, earned his title as a prince through merit, and reached the pinnacle of a military general’s career—he was a towering figure of his time. Even now, he is a blood-hardened veteran forged on the northwest battlefield, and one of Zhao Yu’s most trusted eunuchs. If Zhao Yu ordered such a man to listen to military instruction from a little girl like you, what would Tong Guan think of Zhao Yu? And what would he think of himself?”

Ye Shi Yun chimed in: “Tong Guan would think Zhao Yu looks down on him—that his military skills are inferior to a girl with no body hair. He might even fear Zhao Yu will never promote him again. He might even believe Zhao Yu, by allowing his concubine to humiliate him, is a complete fool—and grow so disillusioned he could be manipulated into betraying Zhao Yu.”

This time, Li Lin understood fully.

Zhao Yu had actually intended for her to casually impart the tactics of the tiger squat cannon and thunder bomb to Tong Guan—someone who had already witnessed their power would surely be eager to learn them.

In the process, she would subtly instill in him her vision of establishing the Divine Machine Left Army and Divine Machine Right Army.

Later, Zhao Yu would send Tong Guan to actually form those two armies.

Tong Guan, who was already adept at maneuvering, would surely grasp exactly what kind of Divine Machine Left and Right Armies Zhao Yu wanted.

Desperate for Zhao Yu’s promotion and favor, Tong Guan would carry out the task flawlessly.

Thus, everyone would silently accomplish what would otherwise have been difficult.

As for why Tong Guan didn’t approach her directly?

It was likely because she was Zhao Yu’s concubine and he was a eunuch—they had to avoid suspicion.

After all, the Zhao Song dynasty had explicit laws forbidding officials and eunuchs from associating with palace concubines.

Once she understood all this, Li Lin realized she hadn’t just missed Zhao Yu’s opportunity—she had also betrayed his thoughtful intentions.

After leaving Zhang Chun’s home, Li Lin, Ye Shi Yun, and Yuan Qingcheng first took the pregnant Ma Xiao Jiao home, then Li Lin and Yuan Qingcheng escorted Ye Shi Yun back to the palace.

Now that only the two of them remained, Yuan Qingcheng said to Li Lin: “In this era, it’s incredibly hard for a woman to even touch military affairs, let alone command troops.”

Li Lin sighed: “I know.”

Then Li Lin opened up to her friend: “I no longer seek to command troops myself—but at least I must pass on the military skills I possess, so Zhao Yu can build several elite armies that respond instantly and fight effectively. Without such armies, our Great Song loses its solid shield. Then the people will lose their peace; war’s shadow will loom constantly; displacement and insecurity will become normal; life and dignity will be unsecured—and perhaps even the Jingkang Humiliation will still happen. What’s the point of us being here, then?”

Yuan Qingcheng found Li Lin’s concern reasonable: without a powerful army to protect them, anything she and Ma Xiao Jiao created would merely serve the enemy.

After thinking, Yuan Qingcheng said: “I have an idea—don’t get angry when I say it.”

“Who are we to each other? Say it freely,” Li Lin said.

“I think it’s unrealistic for a woman to command troops. You should change your approach,” Yuan Qingcheng said.

“How?” Li Lin asked.

“Why not consider giving Zhao Yu several sons, and passing your military skills to them?” Yuan Qingcheng suggested.

Li Lin stopped walking and looked at Yuan Qingcheng: “Are you serious?”

Yuan Qingcheng nodded, then analyzed: “Let’s assume the worst: no matter how hard the five of us try, we still can’t prevent the Jingkang Humiliation—it’s still twenty-seven or twenty-eight years away. But if you give Zhao Yu sons in the next few years, by the time the Jingkang Humiliation occurs, your sons will be in their prime, armed with the most advanced weapons and tactics. Can those backward, barbaric Jurchens possibly defeat your sons?”

“You’re not trying yourself—you’re betting everything on the next generation?” Li Lin frowned.

“We’re not saying we won’t try—we’ll give one hundred and twenty percent to change this era. But we don’t know what our efforts will achieve.”

“If in our generation we can make Great Song prosperous and powerful, invincible, and eliminate all its enemies, that’s ideal.”

“But what if, because you’re a woman, you’re forever barred from command and can’t pass on your advanced military knowledge—so Great Song becomes wealthy but weak, and still gets crushed by the Jin?”

“So I think you should have several sons as insurance—if your skills can’t be passed on directly, pass them down. Your own sons won’t refuse to learn from you, will they?”

“And if you choose this path, there are many other advantages.”

“Think: if Zhang Chun is right—that all Northern Song emperors are short-lived, and Zhao Yu won’t escape this curse—what if one of your sons is lucky enough to inherit Zhao Yu’s throne? Then you might become Regent Empress Dowager—and you could lead troops in person.”

“Even if you never touch military power in your lifetime, if you raise several battle-hardened sons, can the Jingkang Humiliation still happen?”

“And even if it does happen, if we manage to send out a few of your sons early, under your careful training, they won’t be as cowardly as Zhao Gou—afraid to fight the Jin, only running away. They’ll lead loyal generals like Yue Fei and Han Shizhong to defeat the Jin and avenge us.”

Li Lin’s eyes grew brighter with every word. She thought Yuan Qingcheng’s idea might truly be a viable path.

Yuan Qingcheng continued: “Of course, there are many problems. For example: your son must compete with the son of Empress Zheng Xiansu—or even Zhang Chun’s son—to become crown prince; princes aren’t allowed to serve in the military; and so on…”

Li Lin interrupted: “Don’t say more—I’ve decided. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Zhao Yu’s chambers and conceive a son as soon as possible.”

“Wait, so soon? Maybe think again—I was just joking.” Before Li Lin could speak, Yuan Qingcheng retracted her own suggestion: “No, don’t consult Zhang Chun—she has too many hidden motives. You’ll fall into her trap.”

Just moments ago urging Li Lin to bear Zhao Yu’s children, Yuan Qingcheng now feared she’d led Li Lin astray and added: “Lín-jie, I was just speaking offhand—think carefully. This isn’t trivial—it’s a lifelong decision. Besides, all I said were hypotheticals. Whether things unfold as I imagined isn’t certain—history has already changed. Think long and hard—don’t act on impulse and regret it later.”

But Li Lin had already made up her mind: “Don’t try to persuade me anymore. I’m an adult—I’ll take responsibility for my choice. Besides, I haven’t told you this, but I actually have a good impression of Zhao Yu. He’s a bit lecherous, but not vulgar; he’s intelligent, determined, keeps his word, and he’s the emperor. If I bear his son, even the worst he can be is a prince—born with a golden spoon in his mouth.”

Li Lin stretched her arms out comfortably and said calmly: “Besides, I’ve been a woman two lifetimes—I need to know what it feels like to be taken by a man. Otherwise, what’s the point of living two lives?”

She lowered her arms and added with self-deprecation: “You know me—I’m a strong-woman type. Ordinary men dare not touch me, and I despise cowards. Only an emperor could subdue me—make me willingly admit I’m just a small woman.”

Here, Li Lin’s tone shifted: “Qingcheng, do you think heaven sent me here just to solve my personal problems?”

Yuan Qingcheng didn’t answer. Li Lin didn’t need her to.

After dropping Yuan Qingcheng off at her door, Li Lin said: “Go home.” Then she turned and left.

Watching Li Lin’s resolute back, Yuan Qingcheng felt uneasy. Her impulsive suggestion had somehow pushed Li Lin to firmly resolve to offer herself to Zhao Yu.

Back home, Yuan Qingcheng tossed and turned in bed, worried about Li Lin’s future—and wondering, if Li Lin took this path too, how long could she, now utterly alone, keep fighting?

…

Although there was no morning court the next day, Han Zhongyan and Ceng Bu, who had already contacted the Liao and Xia envoys early, arrived promptly to seek an audience with Zhao Yu.

Upon meeting, Han Zhongyan said solemnly: “Your Majesty, the Liao are arrogant, insisting we return Hengshan to Xia—or they will redraw our borders. Their threats are serious and cannot be ignored.”

Ceng Bu added: “Your Majesty, Xia’s stance is equally firm—they demand not only the territories we’ve reclaimed, but also war reparations.”

Zhao Yu laughed: “The victor pays the defeated in gold and silk? I’ve never heard such absurdity. If Liao and Xia insist on these unreasonable demands, there’s no need to negotiate—let’s just go to war!”

Seeing Zhao Yu enraged, Han Zhongyan urged: “Your Majesty, calm down. Small impatience ruins great plans. I suggest increasing tribute to Xia slightly to buy back Hengshan—this will surely quell the crisis.”

Ceng Bu agreed: “Xia is the aggrieved party here. If Xia drops its demands, Liao has no pretext to act. And if Xia doesn’t ally with Liao against us, why should we fear Liao?”

Zhao Yu rejected it outright: “Our soldiers fought and bled on the frontlines to reclaim lost land. Now you want me to buy it back with gold? Absurd! If that’s the case, I’d rather give all tribute money to our soldiers—to make them defend our homeland, expand our borders, and uphold our glory. I will not tolerate such humiliation!”

Seeing Zhao Yu refused to pay tribute to Xia, Han Zhongyan said: “Liao is powerful. If we can prevent them from aiding Xia, the crisis may be resolved. I suggest increasing tribute to Liao as payment for peace.”

Ceng Bu added: “Liao values wealth—abundant tribute will please them. If Liao doesn’t aid Xia, and Xia came seeking peace, they’ll dare not attack us without support. Then our borders will be calm, and our state can rest and recover.”

Han Zhongyan added: “Increasing tribute may shame our state, but war will bring suffering to the people. This is a temporary solution—please consider carefully.”

Zhao Yu replied coldly: “You two are my chancellors, entrusted with securing the realm. I placed great hope in you. Yet in this crisis with Liao and Xia, your only suggestions are to buy peace with gold and silk—I find it incomprehensible. As pillars of the court, you must plan for the long-term, devise grand strategies to repel enemies and protect the people. Must you always think of bribes? Must you always fill greed with money? If this continues, where is our state’s dignity? When will our border threats end? I seek to strengthen our nation, not pay tribute year after year to embolden our enemies. Think deeply and offer better strategies—don’t betray my trust.”

Hearing this, Han Zhongyan and Ceng Bu could only bow and withdraw in silence.

Then Cai Jing came to report on the implementation of Ye Shi Yun’s three proposals.

Next, Cai Bian reported progress on Sima Guang’s case and the anti-corruption campaign.

Then Zhang Shangying, Li Qingchen, and Su Shi—recommended by Zhang Dun—came to report on the evaluation of yesterday’s idle officials, submitting a list of talents and explaining why each rejected official was dismissed.

Finally, Zhang Dun brought good news: the salt certificate bonds had sold, raising two million eight hundred thousand guan.

With this sum, plus the money Zhao Yu earned from selling soap and glassware, he now had sufficient funds for the initial war expenses if he fought Liao and Xia.

Zhao Yu sighed in relief.

After handling all these matters, it was already evening.

Remembering he hadn’t trained his body today, Zhao Yu went to the training ground and sent for Li Lin, hoping she would guide him through a session of “Prisoner Fitness” and “Yoga.”

Soon, Li Lin arrived.

Zhao Yu, mid-warmup following Li Lin’s instructions, looked up—and froze.

Today, Li Lin wasn’t wearing her usual loose combat suit. She wore a crimson silk qipao, stepping forward like a red plum blooming defiantly in snow.

The qipao was a brilliant red, its silk shimmering with fine luster, cut perfectly to outline her graceful yet powerful figure.

Her shoulders flowed smoothly, muscles taut, rising slightly with each step, not an ounce of excess fat. Her arms were slender but held supple strength; as they moved, firm biceps and defined forearms were visible—every motion radiated competence.

Her waist was slender as a fist, yet supple with resilience—like a lithe serpent, elegant yet explosive. The high slit revealed straight, muscular thighs; her calves were strong and smooth; her ankles were delicate yet firmly supported her tall frame.

Her beauty was the perfect fusion of strength and grace, the collision of tradition and modernity.

Such an extraordinary Li Lin left Zhao Yu momentarily stunned.

Li Lin said nothing. As always, she efficiently helped the distracted Zhao Yu stretch.

Soon, she pressed Zhao Yu’s body into perfect parallel with the ground, then flipped over, lying face-down on his back to hold the pose with her own weight.

At that moment, Li Lin asked bluntly: “Your Majesty, may I serve you tonight?”

…

(End of Chapter)