Chapter 298: The Sacrifice

Behind the nameless spirit tablets were slightly smaller tablets, escorted in groups of three. Names of well-known martyrs from the Jingkang era began to appear—Zhang Shuye, Li Ruoshui, Liu Ge, Zhong Shidao, Wang Bing—but the procession did not pause for a moment, because there were too many tablets, and soon they were palm-wide wooden plaques held by single individuals.

Up to this point, the first few dozen tablets could still bear the names of famous figures, but the names that followed began to seem somewhat bizarre at some unknown point... Zhang Bao, Wang Jin, Han Xiang, Sang Ji... anyone could see that these people likely had no connection to any renowned scholar or minister; they were probably just ordinary soldiers recorded in the archives, or common folk who had once resisted.

Moreover, as the tablets grew more numerous, duplicate names began to appear. Just the name Li Bao, the same as the Controller of the Imperial Navy, appeared three or four times in a daze.

But surprisingly, an atmosphere of 'solemnity' began to gradually settle over the scene.

To be honest, when that large blank wooden tablet appeared, the lords and nobles atop the Yue Platform could probably still grasp some of its political implications. Coupled with the requirements of ritual, when the rarely seen Zhao Jiu, clad in a twelve-ornament ceremonial robe, rose from his seat and stood solemnly, everyone on the platform immediately stood at attention with professional dedication.

When certain names appeared, many on the platform, perhaps because they knew them or had blood ties, could not hide their mournful expressions.

However, the commoners of the Eastern Capital watching below lacked this awareness. They were still watching the spectacle, still making noise... They did not know that the large nameless wooden tablet represented people they had once known. They felt a slight pang at the place names that appeared, but only remarked that those places were now occupied by refugees from Hebei, and that the good farmland had been taken back by the government, and so on.

When names like Zhong Shidao appeared, the topic shifted to how, if the Two Sages had listened to Old Zhong, the Grand Coordinator, back then, the Jin people might not have succeeded; how Scholar Li had been so imposing, daring to rebuke Nianhan face-to-face; how when Zhang Longtu breathed his last, his carriage happened to be crossing the old Song-Liao border, and he probably became the local land god there, and so on.

But when the name plaques, most of which were copied from the casualty rolls of the Yaoshan Campaign, began to appear, the original commotion and noise inexplicably began to subside. Discussions still continued, but they could no longer overpower the clatter of armor from the unceasing march of the Imperial Guard infantry.

"Two young gentlemen."

At the viewing area, where the atmosphere was growing strangely tense, a young woman in a veiled hat suddenly walked up to the barrier and called out to two young men who were talking with their hands clasped behind their backs—one was a student of the Imperial Academy, the other a student of the Military Academy.

Both students turned to look. Although she wore a veiled hat, it could not hide her lovely face and graceful figure. Moreover, the quality of her clothing, the delicacy of her ornaments, and the trendiness of her hairstyle were all striking, not to mention how the scent of her perfume stood out among the crowd of commoners. Behind her, they could even see two sturdy servants and a young maidservant accompanying her.

The two realized instantly that she was almost certainly a 'courtesan' from some major establishment east of the city.

And both were merely hot-blooded youths. Hearing her words, they immediately grew a bit flustered. The military academy student, in particular, flushed bright red, then straightened his expression and clasped his hands in greeting: "What does the young lady wish to say?"

"Greetings, Young Master Wang." The woman glanced at the nameplate on his chest reading 'Wang Zhongfu,' gave a hurried bow, clearly somewhat anxious, but did not delay in glancing at the chest of the young Imperial Academy student as well. Then she gave a slight bow to this almost-boy, named Wu Yi. "Greetings, Young Master Wu... I apologize for my rudeness, but could you let me pass over to that side?"

Wang Zhongfu wanted to agree directly, but how could he do such a thing in front of Wu Yi? So he immediately raised a large palm and made a pushing gesture: "According to today's rules, it is not allowed!"

"If the young lady wishes to go, you can go around from the back and take a detour, but you must not break the rules," Wu Yi also reminded her solemnly from the side.

The young woman glanced back at the procession of spirit tablets, growing anxious. She took something from her sleeve, grabbed Wang Zhongfu's large hand, and pressed an object wrapped in a handkerchief into his palm: "Please, young gentlemen, be kind. I just thought I saw a wooden plaque with my brother's name among them, and it's about to pass by..."

Wang Zhongfu exchanged a glance with Wu Yi, then broke free of her grip with one hand and tossed the handkerchief-wrapped ornament—some kind of jewelry—to the maidservant behind the young woman. He then clasped his hands behind his back again, remaining stern: "According to the rules, it is not allowed."

"Indeed, it is not allowed!" Wu Yi repeated in the same manner.

Yet the next moment, just as the young woman was about to cry, Wu and Wang each took a step back, then both turned their backs to her... Wang Zhongfu also pulled two soldiers on duty back half a step with him.

Seeing this, the young woman did not have time to thank them. She hurried through the gap between the two men and, with her maidservant and attendants, continued chasing after the spirit tablets. Wu and Wang turned back around and shook their heads in unison.

Nothing more—the young woman clearly had a local Henan accent, and given their positions, the two already knew that these names were almost all from west of the Pass, likely just coincidental matches.

Just coincidental matches.

Now, according to the idlers of the Eastern Capital, these spirit tablets—which Zhao Jiu had supposedly 'invented' at Bagongshan or Yaoshan—numbered over fifteen thousand. They had taken over a month to make, using several hundred craftsmen, and cost the Zhao lord a full fifty thousand strings of cash. As a result, most of the troops under Wang De, the Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard Central Army responsible for transporting the tablets, had to return to the Yue Platform camp to carry a second batch.

Dense rows of spirit tablets, continuously brought out from the camp, formed an unending iron current between the soldiers carrying them and the sea of people above and below the Yue Platform. The visual impact was no less than the flames that had shot into the sky earlier, nor the mountain of helmets.

But unlike those things, this was almost unending.

Moreover, the setup of one soldier carrying one tablet reminded everyone that the dead—those with names alone—numbered this many! It took this many people dying before others could watch the spectacle on this festival day after the autumn harvest, before they could think about the Imperial Academy examinations and the palace examination after the Mid-Autumn Festival, before they could prattle on about defending or attacking.

However, it is worth noting that Zhao Jiu's feelings might have been somewhat different, even more extreme... For instance, he knew very well that those catapults were actually firing stone projectiles. While they fired stones, others were igniting gunpowder buried in the tunnels—otherwise, how could they have such power? Was this some kind of propaganda animation, where trebuchets obliterate everything?

If it really had that kind of power, he could lead his troops across the river right now and bombard Great Ming Prefecture into submission.

For now, it was just to let the envoys of Goryeo, Western Xia, and Dali, who were mingling in the crowd, hear the noise, boost morale, and intimidate some people.

The spoils were also somewhat inflated. Apart from the flags, which had indeed been preserved, most of the trophies were what Yue Fei had captured from the Jingdong battlefield. As for the spoils after Yaoshan, there were certainly many, but the helmets and armor had long since been repaired and distributed—how could they be used here?

Even the things piled up here now would be sent to the Directorate of Armaments afterward for proper use.

So, for Zhao Jiu, only these spirit tablets were real; only this iron current was real.

The autumn sky was clear and crisp. The noise grew smaller and smaller, until only the sound of wind whipping banners and the clatter of soldiers' armor remained... This iron current could not yet achieve synchronized footsteps, but the rumbling sound combined was enough to rival thunder.

Finally, after a full half-hour, the spirit tablets were all placed in the middle and rear of the huge, trapezoidal Yue Platform.

It was hard to imagine that the spirit tablets, whose transport had been so shocking, occupied so little space when gathered together—less than a third of this platform, which had existed since the Warring States period.

With the tablets delivered, Zhao Jiu began the ritual sacrifice according to protocol... This time, the lord did not need to ask people on the spot like he had on the Yue Platform before. Ritual officials had long since taught him in advance, and he had rehearsed privately many times.

Of course, even though the Zhao lord was so diligent, the commoners watching from across the Yue Platform could hardly see clearly, and a slight murmur had already begun to rise again. On the platform, however, many people, seeing the Zhao lord so obediently and earnestly fulfilling the basic duties of a sovereign, were almost moved to tears.

After all, at any time, a supreme ruler willing to cooperate with everyone in doing what everyone thought a ruler should do—even if it seemed ineffective on its own—was still a great show of cooperation and respect for the bureaucratic system and the Confucian system.

And the sacrifice, especially this simultaneous sacrifice to Heaven and Earth and the dead, gave everyone a unique sense of security.

Back in the day, when Emperor Renzong went out of the city to pray for rain, even though the grain harvest in Jingdong still failed and people starved to death because it didn't rain afterward, the mere fact that Renzong, with his plump figure, had gone out of the city earned him unanimous praise and recognition from both court and countryside.

The saying that Emperor Renzong could do nothing but be a ruler was probably about this.

In comparison, the Zhao lord, who was earnestly performing various complex actions, was not very good at being a ruler. He could fight wars, win over chancellors and military commanders, write *Journey to the West: Subduing Demons*, kill ministers, dig fish ponds, have only two imperial consorts, issue orders to merge the Three Departments into the Capital Secretariat, make names match reality, establish the Imperial Guard, issue national bonds, oversee the construction of more powerful catapults, and direct gunpowder packets... but he simply did not do a good job of being a ruler.

The eulogy was well-written, drafted jointly by several academicians of the Jade Hall and Secretaries of the Secretariat. It was in parallel prose, elegant and refined. Although the Zhao lord did not fully understand all the allusions, he had read it many times over the past few days and could recite it fluently.

At this moment, this Son of Heaven of the Zhao Song, who claimed to 'Continue the Song,' wearing his twelve-ornament ceremonial robe, with his back to his civil and military officials and the capital's populace, surrounded by monks and Daoist priests and the Imperial Guard cavalry and infantry, faced so many spirit tablets, holding a white silk scroll with the eulogy written on it, and spoke gently.

To be honest, this scene had already moved many people—no matter what, at a glance, this young ruler still looked like a good one.

After reading the eulogy, under the guidance of Minister of Rites Zhai Ruwen, Grand Councilor Lü Haowen stepped forward to offer the smoldering flint. Zhao Jiu then burned the eulogy in the incense burner where he had personally placed incense earlier, praying as it burned.

At this point, the prayer ritual was roughly concluded... According to the plan he had personally participated in and which Grand Councilor Lü had announced, next, he, as the ruler, was supposed to withdraw. The monks and Daoists would activate two great formations, and all civil and military officials, regardless of rank, as well as commoners, even servants and laborers, would be free to come to the platform to burn incense and pay their respects.

But for some reason, after burning the eulogy, the Zhao lord felt a bit unsatisfied, as if something was stuck in his heart that he had to say. It wasn't necessarily that the eulogy was bad; it was just that the Zhao lord wanted to speak for himself.

"Where is Hu Quan, Compiler of the Bureau of Military Affairs in charge of the Capital Gazette?" Due to the inconvenience of moving in his twelve-ornament ceremonial robe, Zhao Jiu had to turn his entire body to face forward before calling out.

Hu Quan, dressed in a green robe, immediately stepped out from the end of the line, almost at the back of the Yue Platform's steps, and hurried forward to bow before the lord, addressing him with particular solemnity: "Your Majesty, your servant awaits your command."

"Tomorrow's eulogy, change the signature to a joint one from me, the chief ministers, and the key officials of the Secret Pavilion," Zhao Jiu declared proudly, immediately drawing looks of relief from many civil and military officials present.

"Your servant receives the command." Hu Quan naturally had nothing to say to this.

In fact, at this moment, no one could stop this lord's oral decree. Not even Grand Councilor Lü, who had recently shown the authority of a prime minister, could interrupt... On this occasion, at this time, the Zhao lord's authority was further enhanced.

"Also, in my personal name, that is, the name Zhao Jiu of Cangzhou, issue a simple commentary on the eulogy," Zhao Jiu continued, announcing loudly from atop the stepped Yue Platform.

The surrounding civil and military officials all tensed up. Hu Quan was also momentarily stunned before bowing his head: "Your servant receives the command. May I ask Your Majesty, what commentary?"

"All these words, in the end, boil down to just a few sentences... First, in the war between Song and Jin, we Song people protect our country and people, resist aggression—it is righteous, not wrong! It is just, not violent!" Although he knew that not even everyone on the Yue Platform could hear him clearly, Zhao Jiu still spoke with effort, calmly encouraging himself in his heart—the cause I am pursuing now is just.

"Your servant reverently receives the sacred instruction!" Hu Quan, still bowing with his head down, flushed red in an instant and then raised his voice sharply.

The civil and military officials nearby also became solemn.

"Second, this war began in the seventh year of Xuanhe and lasted until the fifth year of Jianyan, spanning seven years. Although Great Song has suffered countless casualties and lost a thousand li of territory, in the end it will be Song that triumphs and Jin that is defeated! We survive while the enemy perishes!" Zhao Jiu continued to declare loudly — victory would surely belong to them.

"We humbly obey Your Majesty's edict!"

"Third, no matter a thousand hardships or ten thousand obstacles, this resolve will never change. Until we smash the Yellow Dragon, we will never stop! Let these words be shared with all under heaven as mutual encouragement!" Zhao Jiu's tone softened — though the road would surely be winding.

"We humbly obey Your Majesty's edict!"

This time, the first to respond was the Duke of the Realm, Lu Haowen, who, disregarding tradition, directly prostrated himself from the side, performing the kneeling ritual that was theoretically only done when assuming the post of chief minister.

The civil and military officials were flustered for a moment, but soon, led by Chief Minister of the Capital Secretariat Zhao Ding (Zhao Yuanzhen) and Privy Council Commissioner Zhang Jun (Zhang Deyuan) on left and right, they all knelt together. Even the two envoys, after a moment of hesitation, knelt in confusion. As for the Dali envoy, he knelt at the very first moment... This was not groveling, nor flattery, nor being awed by some so-called heroic spirit, but because at this moment, on this occasion where heaven, earth, and man were simultaneously worshipped, the words spoken by a legitimate Son of Heaven, backed by military power and meritorious achievements, at the final moment of the sacrificial ceremony, were themselves the most irrefutable expression of absolute authority in this era.

Under this system, at this moment, His Majesty Zhao was speaking on behalf of heaven.

Although this was not his subjective intention, everyone knew that regardless of how many discordant voices and undercurrents had existed before, in this instant, the imperial authority of this Son of Heaven had reached an unprecedented peak... Whether or not he knew how to be an emperor, he was the emperor!

PS: This chapter was originally supposed to be posted together with yesterday's chapter... Or yesterday's chapter should have been posted only half, with the last part separated and posted together with today's... But I'm used to posting wherever I stop writing, and yesterday I caught a cold and simply couldn't write anymore... I apologize in advance for any inconvenience in reading.