Chapter 160: Each Asks of the Other (Part 2)

The lord and his subject exchanged a few words, finishing their pleasantries, then slowly walked together into the hall.

At this moment, Zhao Jiu finally sensed the frailty of the other's body and confirmed that this was likely just a final burst of energy before the end. Because when he supported this man—who had once traveled and studied across the realm for ten years in his youth, renowned for his robust health and rough speech—he could barely feel any weight in his hands.

Yet, the more this was the case, the more cautious Zhao Jiu became… because at this moment, this "Grandfather Zong" was, for him as the Emperor, actually "invincible."

In truth, it wasn't just Zhao Jiu. People like Hu Yin, the Censor-in-Chief who was called half a Chancellor; Lin Jingmo, the Imperial Drafter who was the Emperor's trusted civil official; and Lan Gui, the Chief Eunuch of the Palace Eunuch Bureau—all of them, upon seeing that scene and thinking it over, understood the stakes and grew wary. As for Wanqi Xie, Wang Shan, Guo Zhongxun, and the like, some were even filled with fear and trepidation.

But regardless, since they had come now, there was no turning back. They could only exchange glances with each other and then carefully enter the hall.

"Why all this caution?" Zong Ze, having been helped to the prepared seat of honor on the left by the Emperor, called his son over to attend him. Seeing that the Emperor then sat down directly while the others dared not move, he couldn't help but laugh again. "What, are you complaining that my hospitality is lacking? Today is just a private feast; don't be constrained just because the Emperor is here."

The Emperor wasn't constrained at all!

Hu Yin and the others grew even more exasperated but had to steel themselves and sit down. Since Zong Xianggong had spoken, they dared not follow the formal banquet rules of seating by official rank. Instead, following the old custom of private official feasts, they arranged seats by age and background. In the end, Guo Zhongxun, Lin Jingmo, and Hu Yin—all four jinshi degree holders—ended up on the left by age, while Lan Gui, Wanqi Xie, Liu Yan, Wang Shan, and a motley crew carefully sat across from them.

The feast was very simple, the wine poor, and the dishes few. Of course, with everyone on edge, no one had the heart to enjoy it.

"I hear Your Majesty won a victory at Yancheng?"

Sure enough, no sooner had everyone sat down and forced down a few bites, before the wine was even poured, Zong Ze, who had just called it a private feast, couldn't help pressing for an answer.

"Let the Defender know, there was indeed a great victory at Yancheng." Guo Zhongxun, hearing this, perked up and quickly spoke. "Over a dozen meng'an were completely annihilated, and the Battalion Commander Pucha Gulu was executed. The enemy at Zhongmou has retreated, and Wanyan Talan also…"

"I was asking the Emperor." Zong Ze turned his head with effort to glance at his own Judge. The latter, upon being looked at, lowered his head and dared not speak.

"That is indeed the case," Zhao Jiu replied bluntly. "But this battle was forced into a corner, a desperate gamble to find life in death. Since it was a life-or-death struggle, the cause is not worth praising, and the outcome is not yet clear."

"Let's set aside the cause for now; just discussing the result is still meaningful." Under the candlelight in the room, Zong Ze squinted and carefully looked at the Emperor again, then slowly shook his head. "In five years of Song-Jin warfare, we have had more defeats than victories. Every victory is worth praising, let alone such a great one. In this old minister's view, with Changshe recovered, the lands of the Five Rivers are back in the Imperial Army's hands, cutting off the Jin army north-south—the situation is already turning alive…"

"I cannot agree," Zhao Jiu shook his head as well. "The Jin army has over two hundred Battalion Commander on the eastern and western fronts, probably three hundred thousand in the entire nation. A mere dozen meng'an are not enough to shake the overall situation. The final outcome of this battle still depends on how Han Shizhong and Yue Fei fare in the coming days."

"Then what would count as a result?" Zong Ze lowered his head, thought briefly, and asked with a serious expression.

"In my view, regardless of victory or defeat, the only priority is to drive the Jin people back across the Yellow River as quickly as possible," Zhao Jiu remained blunt. "I only hope we don't delay the spring plowing in Henan…"

"That is true enough." Zong Ze, leaning on his son's arm, seemed lost in thought. "Your Majesty is the Son of Heaven, and should naturally take the broad view… but still, a great victory by the Imperial Army is no lie, and Han Shizhong and Yue Fei are both talented generals. I trust the overall situation won't be delayed… Let us drink a toast to celebrate the Imperial Army's victory."

Everyone in the hall breathed a half-sigh of relief, then quickly raised their cups in response. Even Zong Ze himself took a small sip from the cup his son held up.

However, as they set down their cups, the next moment, when Zong Xianggong spoke again, everyone tensed up once more:

"Your Majesty, Du Chong was a high-ranking minister. Why did Your Majesty personally kill him in the hall?"

"His son Du Yan personally came forward to inform that Du Chong had agreed with Talan not to fight, violating the former public proclamation at Mount Bagong…" Zhao Jiu had returned to being concise, but at this point, he let out a sigh. "In truth, even by that standard, he could have been killed or spared. But if I hadn't killed him, first, I couldn't properly secure military command and intimidate the various commanders of the Tokyo Defender Command to deploy troops immediately; second, my heart could not find peace!"

"Your Majesty is truly candid today," Zong Ze said with a smile.

"Facing Zong Xianggong, I dare not be anything but candid," Zhao Jiu replied calmly with a cupped-fist salute.

"In that case, I am still curious about one thing… Why could Your Majesty's heart not find peace?" Zong Ze asked with a faint, knowing smile.

"Because in this escape from Nanyang to gather troops at Yancheng, I suffered heavy losses along the way," Zhao Jiu answered patiently.

"I do not believe that," Zong Ze suddenly shook his head.

"Why?"

"In the past, in Hebei, Your Majesty did not even care for your own father, brothers, mother, and sisters. How could you sympathize with ordinary soldiers?" Zong Ze's tone remained calm, but his words carried a hint of sternness.

Anyone in the hall with a heart condition would have likely had an attack on the spot and left before Zong Xianggong. But even those without one wished they could cover their ears. Even Hu Yin, who was usually opinionated and outspoken, could barely contain himself.

Yet Zhao Jiu was silent for a moment, then followed this "man near death who fears nothing" with a shocking revelation:

"Is it better for one family to weep, or for a whole road of people to weep? The calamity of war continues, the realm is in such chaos, and the dead number in the hundreds of thousands or millions… As the Son of Heaven, speaking before outsiders, I should naturally speak of filial piety and brotherly love. But in truth, when have I had the time to care for just one family? I should be thinking of weapons, grain, and funds, caring for soldiers, officials, and cities, seeking to bring peace to the realm as soon as possible. Nothing else is worth discussing."

As soon as these words were spoken, the first to react was Censor-in-Chief Hu Yin. He immediately stood up from behind his table, face red, wanting to speak but finding himself at a loss for words, standing there dumbfounded.

Zong Ze and the Emperor both turned to glance at him, but paid it no mind, continuing their conversation as if chatting idly:

"In the past in Hebei, I never saw Your Majesty think of bringing peace to the realm."

"Not to mention the matter of falling into a well, but putting myself in your shoes, back then in Hebei, did I ever think I would become Emperor?"

"That reasoning has some merit, but it only works before the two emperors' northern hunt. After that, why did Your Majesty hastily abandon the people of Hebei, cross south of the river, and ascend the throne? And after ascending, why did you completely dismantle the defenses in Hebei?"

"I suppose I was young then, bewitched by men like Huang Qianshan and Kang Lü, and had no firm convictions. I was momentarily disheartened and lost faith—that is also the truth. Though I have forgotten such things, it was indeed my fault," Zhao Jiu replied slowly.

Upon hearing the latter half, Zong Ze fell silent. After a long while, he sighed: "I won't quibble over your words about forgetting the well incident. But Your Majesty is being too candid today. Could it be that you think I am a dying man?"

"I speak from the heart," Zhao Jiu remained calm.

"Your Majesty's words today are quite reasonable, but I'm afraid I cannot believe them," Zong Ze slowly shook his head.

The atmosphere in the hall froze again. The others seated there were utterly helpless.

In truth, no one here, whether shrewd or dull, failed to understand the situation: the Emperor, now firmly anti-Jin, had an insurmountable hurdle with Zong Xianggong, the paragon of resistance. No matter what, Zhao Jiu could not explain his abandonment of the Two Rivers around the middle of the first year of the Jianyan era, nor could he make amends.

You say you resist the Jin—who was it that abandoned the Two Rivers and rushed south to ascend the throne?

You say you won a great victory, wiping out over a dozen meng'an, over ten thousand men—but dare I ask if the people of the Two Rivers number twenty or thirty million?

You say how hard you've worked, how difficult it's been—dare I ask if it compares to Zong Ze, who, starting from nothing, risked his life to hold the old capital and resist invasion?

And most importantly, with anyone else, the Emperor could offer some comfort, say "wait for the future," sigh "watch and see what comes." But Zong Xianggong, over seventy and gravely ill, was about to die. How could he wait for the future or watch what comes?

To be fair, everyone knew the Emperor had done well this time, even exceeding expectations since the battle on the Huai River. But unfortunately, when facing Zong Ze alone, what he had done… was probably not enough!

This was a deadlock.

Compared to this crux, the words they had just exchanged—unspoken yet so blatant that they had startled Hu Yin—meant little between the two men in the hall. You say you are the linchpin of the righteous cause against the Jin, but wasn't the Jin invasion provoked by your Zhao clan?

To this, the Emperor's answer was: don't hold what those people did against me, who was still a child at the time.

And Zong Ze indeed did not dwell on it much.

"I feel that Your Majesty's words today are half true, half false," Zong Rulin finally sighed softly again in the silence. "I wonder how much is meant to comfort this dying old minister?"

"Every word is sincere," Zhao Jiu seemed to have long prepared his attitude and words for facing Zong Ze, for he did not hesitate. "I made up my mind to resist the Jin to the end and recover the rivers and mountains ever since I was at the Mingdao Temple in Bozhou. But I also know that, of all people in the realm, Zong Xianggong is the hardest to convince. I have no way to explain…"

Many hearts stirred slightly.

And Zong Ze still seemed unmoved. After a pause, he pressed further: "Your Majesty, in the past year or so, I alone held Tokyo, turning the tide when all seemed lost. Would you say that's true?"

"Naturally."

"And now, dying in the line of duty, would you say that counts as giving my all?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Then in future histories, there won't be any bad words about me today, right?"

"Correct."

"And Your Majesty is also perceptive... I'm afraid you know that I have no fear today because I have backing."

"I understand roughly." Zhao Jiu suddenly laughed. "Unless I recover the rivers and mountains in the future and prove my innocence, then today whatever you say, Chancellor, the world will believe it all."

"So that's why Your Majesty is so polite today..."

"If I had no sincerity, wouldn't it be better to hide in Yiling for a few days, let you leave on your own, and then come here?" Zhao Jiu also spoke plainly.

Zong Ze was silent for a moment, but still slowly shook his head: "Actually, I've been holding on waiting for Your Majesty. If Your Majesty hadn't come, I wouldn't be willing to die."

"I know, that's why I'm here today." Zhao Jiu also became serious.

"Doesn't that sound like urging me to die?" Zong Ze sneered again.

"Would you still care about that now, Chancellor?" Zhao Jiu followed with a bitter smile.

"Does Your Majesty know that my reputation was bad when I was young..."

"I've heard a little."

Moreover, if not for the Jingkang Incident, Zong Ze's reputation in history would not have been good, because in the thirty years of official career before the Jingkang Incident, this later anti-Jin leader and national hero had two very bizarre political labels: one was boorish, and the other was a member of a treacherous faction...

The former is not worth mentioning, just a personal habit, but from the perspective of a national hero, it naturally becomes outspokenness and bold character. The key is the latter.

When Zong Ze took the imperial examinations back then, he immediately spoke up to seek justice for the great traitor Cai Que, and ended up with the lowest rank. Not only that, but his official career completely collapsed. And the reason he later barely managed to become a Vice Prefect was due to the promotion and care of another great traitor, Lu Huiqing...

So, if he had successfully retired at sixty and then died of illness in obscurity, living out his days peacefully in the countryside, he would truly have been just a remnant of a treacherous faction in a corner of history. Even if he were written into a time-travel novel for some wish-fulfillment, he would probably end up with a villainous face, and might even be exiled to Lingnan to let the readers have a good laugh.

However, the great waves wash away the sand. Who could have imagined that when faced with the destruction of one's country, it would be this old man with such a terrible image who stepped forward, both to turn the tide and to give his all until his dying breath?

"Then I won't hold back anything..." Zong Ze continued slowly.

"I came precisely for this." Zhao Jiu responded seriously. "Whatever you request, Chancellor, I will promise it."

"Just three things." Zong Ze sighed softly.

Everyone held their breath.

"This son of mine has no real talent, but he is my son after all, and I have my selfishness. The reason I never had him appointed to an official post is not to put on any pretense, but because the entire Kaifeng Defender Command was gathered by me alone. If I had him appointed early and given a title, it might give petty people other ideas... I ask Your Majesty to handle this properly after I am gone." Zong Rulin pointed to his son beside him, who couldn't hold back and burst into tears.

This was not an attack, but rather a standard entrustment of orphans. Hearing this, most of those who had been tense relaxed, and as Zong Ying wept, the atmosphere became somewhat sorrowful... after all, it was an old minister entrusting his orphan.

However, Zhao Jiu was clearly taken aback. This was not only because he hadn't encountered the expected attack, but also because he sensed something else in Zong Ze's words.

"Your Majesty, don't disbelieve me." Seeing this, Zong Ze simply mustered the strength to point at a person on the opposite side of the hall. "Wang Shan, come out and tell His Majesty about your favorite theory you always spout when drunk—'wealth and poverty, nobility and baseness must be redefined'..."

Wang Shan quickly stepped forward and kowtowed to both Zhao Jiu and Zong Ze. Whether out of fear or sorrow at seeing Zong Ze's condition today, when he raised his head, he was crying uncontrollably and couldn't speak a word.

"I have long heard Minister Wang's words and quite agree with them." Zhao Jiu understood in his heart, sat upright in his seat, and spoke seriously. "In this chaotic era, it is indeed a time to redefine wealth and poverty, nobility and baseness... But Minister Wang, redefining nobility and baseness, wealth and poverty, has two paths. One is to betray loyalty and righteousness, willingly degenerate, create chaos, demand without limit, and then bring about disaster in vain. The other is to follow the general trend, like Chancellor Zong, who stabilizes the realm with a single mind, which is the path to quell chaos, pacify the people, and earn merit and fame... Chancellor Zong singled you out today not to give you trouble, but to have me look after you in the future. It's for your own good. You should understand."

Wang Shan, who had walked straight in from outside the city without even removing his armor, could only kowtow repeatedly to the two of them in the hall.

Seeing this, Zong Ze grew somewhat impatient. He waved his hand casually and continued speaking to the Emperor above: "Your Majesty is clever, good that you understand... Then the second matter concerns this Kaifeng Defender Command. I ask Your Majesty to handle it properly, considering their contributions to the state."

"That is only natural." Zhao Jiu responded immediately.

In fact, Zhao Jiu had already understood from the beginning. Zong Ze wasn't really concerned about his son's official position. The first matter he referred to was to use his son's situation to remind Zhao Jiu that the Kaifeng Defender Command was filled with people who were originally bandits and outlaws, and that the Zhao family had lost the hearts of the people in the Two Rivers region. The Emperor's identity didn't have the same cohesive power over these people as it did over regular troops. Therefore, a certain level of pressure and authority must be maintained, and even some purges might be necessary; otherwise, they could truly cause disaster!

But such words, even with Zong Ze's status, couldn't be spoken directly. He could only use his son and Wang Shan, who was right in front of him, as a pretext to hint at it.

And the second matter was to remind the Zhao Emperor in turn that while pressure and authority were necessary, ultimately this was a vital force for resisting the Jin. It could be restrained, adjusted, consolidated, and purged, but it absolutely could not be abandoned.

Returning to the present, having settled this matter so cleanly, Zong Ze instead laughed: "Today, I said I was acting old and arrogant, pressing hard, yet it seems I am in sync with Your Majesty."

Zhao Jiu finally managed to smile again, but then immediately became solemn. He vaguely sensed something.

"But I still have to play the villain!" Zong Rulin put away his smile and suddenly sighed again. "Your Majesty, if you grant me this last request, I can rest my heart today... I take the liberty to ask Your Majesty to swear a solemn oath in public to recover the Two Rivers!"

Everyone in the hall fell into dead silence. Even Mo Qixie felt that Zong Ze had gone too far.

"What kind of oath?" Unexpectedly, although Zhao Jiu was also startled, he still responded smoothly.

"Your Majesty is the Son of Heaven, so you can only swear by Heaven."

"Since I am the Son of Heaven, if I swear by Heaven, does Heaven's will show favor? Besides, Heaven's will is vague. I am the lord of the people, so why not swear by the people?" Before anyone else could interrupt, Zhao Jiu cooperated perfectly.

"That will do." This time it was Chancellor Zong's turn to be stunned.

Zhao Jiu immediately sat upright, raised his hand, and pointed to the sky: "If I cannot restore the Two Rivers in my lifetime, annihilate the Jin state, plow their courts clean, sweep their lairs clean, and unite all the rivers and mountains under one rule, then may I have nothing to live for and die without a complete corpse."

"Your Majesty, you speak too heavily!"

As the Emperor swore the oath, everyone except Zong Ze almost simultaneously stepped forward and knelt. Guo Zhongxun, Mo Qixie, and others, upon hearing the oath, frantically tried to remonstrate, but as before, what could they do when the Zhao Emperor and Chancellor Zong were speaking here?

"Your Majesty is in the prime of your youth. 'Nothing to live for' is indeed a harsh oath." After hearing the oath, Zong Ze laughed, but then asked seriously, "But why 'die without a complete corpse'?"

"Because if I die, it will only be while wearing armor and wielding a blade in a direct battle between Song and Jin..." Zhao Jiu answered calmly. "And a few days ago, under Changshe city, I saw many armored corpses that were mutilated. In current warfare, when both armies have excellent armor, once they engage in hand-to-hand combat, they must first chop off limbs, then knock off helmets, to kill. Complete corpses are rare."

"I see. It makes me seem petty." Zong Ze was stunned for a moment, then suddenly relaxed, and his whole body went limp. "I have always been boorish. I ask Your Majesty to forgive me."

"I have been unprincipled in the past. To be forgiven by you, Chancellor, with just a few words, I am already ashamed." Zhao Jiu replied earnestly.

"Let's drink!" Zong Ze forced a smile. "No matter what, today I ended up at a disadvantage to Your Majesty... The future may be worth looking forward to."

Zhao Jiu quickly raised his cup.

For a time, cups and goblets clashed in the hall.

Not only that, halfway through the drinking, Zong Ze, slightly drunk, insisted on going to the courtyard to admire the moon... Everyone knew the weather was still cold and it would be bad for his health, but on the one hand, it was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and moon-gazing was only natural. On the other hand, everyone, high and low, could see that this Chancellor was truly at his limit. Having seen the Emperor today, his heart's wish was fulfilled, and he might worsen at any moment. Going against him now would be meaningless.

So, everyone carefully moved the feast to the courtyard and sat facing the moon.

When they were deep in their cups, Chancellor Zong first sighed at the moon, then laughed bitterly: "Today is a festival with a full moon, and I meet Your Majesty again in the capital. I should compose a poem to express my feelings, but I am old and useless, and can't manage even half a verse..."

Those around him sighed in sympathy, and some were eager to try.

"No." Before anyone could act, Zong Ze looked at the moon again and shook his head, sighing to himself. "I was never good at this. In my youth, I spent ten years traveling the mountains and rivers of the world. I was never a scholar by nature, so why talk about poetry? But if not for those ten years of wandering, seeing all the magnificent mountains and rivers, knowing their grandeur and the density of the people, I wouldn't have been so enraged by the pro-peace faction after the Jin came south, nor would I have ended up dying far from home..."

Several people around him naturally sighed and agreed.

Seeing this, Zhao Jiu, seated in front of the hall, kept his expression unchanged and drank as usual, but his heart was churning with waves.

From earlier in the hall, he had several times wanted to dismiss everyone and frankly tell Zong Ze that he was not the one who abandoned the Two Rivers, that he would definitely do this and that. But he had suppressed this impulse several times, because it was meaningless and might even cause the old man's gradually calming heart to fall into fear and doubt... But hearing these words now, the waves in Zhao Jiu's heart rose again, and that impulse reached its peak.

After all, since his transmigration, among the people Zhao Jiu had met, most of the so-called high-ranking civil officials of the war faction were motivated only by loyalty, Confucian classics, personal grudges, or benefits from the system. Few could give him such a pure, natural sense of love for family and country as Zong Rulin had just done.

Seeing the magnificent mountains and rivers, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, and thus refused to allow others to abuse them—wasn't this precisely the way an elite scholar-official awakened the most basic patriotism?

However, if it were only this, Zhao Jiu would at most feel admiration and respect for this newly encountered national hero, and would not have lost his composure to such a degree. The true reason that drove him to this repeated impulsiveness was actually the other party's almost humble posture today.

Truly humble!

And this almost humble posture was probably something only Zhao Jiu, who had been the Emperor for over a year, could detect. Everyone else could only see Zong Rulin acting like an old man throwing his weight around and being overbearing.

The key lay in Zhao Jiu's identity as the Emperor... To put it bluntly, what meaning did something like a vow actually hold for an emperor? Especially one made in a hall before only a few people? And what substantive harm did those trivial, painless taunts cause?

Not only that, but what Zhao Jiu had come seeking this time was the control of the Dongjing Defender Command. Had the other party made any substantive excuses or threats?

No! Hadn't the other party even voluntarily initiated the handover?

It could be said that this Lord Zong had dragged things out until now. Earlier, he was simply holding on, waiting for the outcome at Yanyang. In the past two days, after learning the news, he had no other thought than to see if he could meet the Emperor Zhao Jiu face-to-face and then make a symbolic handover to reduce disputes.

He hadn't even asked, nor dared to ask, whether the Emperor Zhao Jiu, after receiving the troops, would return to Nanyang once the situation stabilized, abandoning the Dongjing he had struggled to hold for over a year.

This was almost pathetic.

Of course, compared to the hope of restoring the rivers and mountains, this seemed to be worth everything—the Emperor Zhao Jiu could be certain that when Zong Ze saw him arrive, his heart was not filled with resentment, but rather with extraordinary joy and indescribable excitement.

But this kind of feeling could only be vaguely understood between the two of them, and it came far too late... and was destined to remain implicit.

"Your Majesty, do you have any poetry?" In a daze, Zong Ze asked the Emperor Zhao Jiu again. "Censor-in-Chief Hu and Academician Lin both write fine poetry..."

"How could I have that skill?" Zhao Jiu couldn't help but laugh, instinctively about to decline. But after the words left his mouth, as if possessed, he changed his words. "However, returning to this old place today stirs my heart, and I have gained a little something..."

Those below dared not be negligent. The Dongjing Defender Command personnel, who had gathered since the banquet was moved to the courtyard, came forward to present paper and brush, then lit lamps to face each other.

Zhao Jiu was silent for a moment, then looked up at the moonlight overhead before carefully using his Huang-style calligraphy to write down an untimely lyric.

It went like this:

Easterly wind at night sets a thousand trees in bloom.

And blows down stars like rain.

Precious horses and carved carriages fill the road with fragrance.

The sound of phoenix flutes stirs, the jade pot's light turns, all night the fish and dragons dance.

Moth-shaped hairpins, willow-like strands, golden threads.

Laughter and whispers, a faint fragrance fades away.

In the crowd, I search for him a thousand times.

Suddenly turning back, that person is there, in the place where the lantern light is dim.

As the lyric "Green Jade Cup," forcibly set to the Lantern Festival, was finished, the onlookers with some literary appreciation were left dumbfounded. When it was passed to Zong Ze, the Lord Zong could no longer see clearly and had to let Lin Jingmo recite it to him.

After hearing it, Zong Ze first shook his head with a bitter smile: "The population of Dongjing City is now less than two hundred thousand, and there have been no lanterns for several years in a row... But still, it is a good lyric, an exceptionally fine lyric... Your Majesty?"

"I am here."

"This isn't an old lyric by Yi'an Jushi, is it?"

"No."

"Then is Your Majesty gradually recalling the old stories of Dongjing from those days?"

"Yes." Zhao Jiu clasped his hands and sighed softly in response. "I remember... it is precisely the story of those years, now etched into my bones."

Zong Ze showed a smile and nodded repeatedly: "It's good that Your Majesty remembers, good that it's etched into your bones... And with this lyric as a foundation, I am already fully satisfied. Forgive my old age, I beg to take my leave and rest."

"Lord Defender, please go." Zhao Jiu's heart stirred slightly, and he immediately stood up with his hands clasped, leading the assembled officials in solemn respect.

Zong Ying, who had long been worried that his father's health wouldn't hold up, quickly helped his father up and, under the gaze of the crowd, turned from the side of the hall into the rear courtyard until they disappeared from sight.

The next day, the Emperor Zhao Jiu, who had moved into the grand yet desolate Dongjing Imperial Palace, received two pieces of news.

In the early morning, Zong Ying, dressed in mourning, entered the palace and informed the Emperor Zhao Jiu that his father, the Grand Councilor of the Great Song, Dongjing Defender, and Vice Marshal of the Army, Zong Ze, had peacefully passed away from illness on his bed during the night, silently, at the age of seventy.

However, after the news spread outside the palace, a complete story emerged, saying that Lord Zong had left behind a poem titled "To My Son" before his death the previous night.

The poem said:

I know that after death all things become empty, but I grieve that I cannot see the nine provinces united. When the Imperial Army retakes the Yan and Yun lands, do not forget to tell your father at the family sacrifice.

After leaving the poem, he was in a daze, until just before his death, when he had a final moment of clarity. He then shouted loudly, "Cross the river!" three times before dying.

Within Dongjing City, from the Emperor Zhao Jiu on down, there was no one who did not hear this and weep.

Only, this matter had long been anticipated by everyone, so it could not be called a surprise.

In the evening, just as Dongjing City was immersed in an atmosphere of grief, Han Shizhong suddenly sent a messenger flying on horseback to report that Wanyan Talan, in his desperate flight, had actually abandoned Zhengzhou again and crossed the Yellow River northward.

Only Yelu Ma Wu, isolated and confused, first ran into the vanguard of Han Shizhong's forces, Li Qiong and others. The two sides engaged. Initially, the Jin Army had the upper hand, but when Han Shizhong himself arrived with the main force of the Song Army, the situation reversed instantly. In the end, Yelu Ma Wu suffered a great defeat at the city of Zhengzhou, the seat of Zhengzhou Prefecture. He could only rely on the advantage of his cavalry to forcibly break away from the battlefield, but he was unable to gain a foothold anywhere along the way, not even daring to attempt crossing the river. Finally, he fled westward to the Western Capital, Luoyang.

This news was somewhat unexpected.

PS: Goodnight, everyone.