Chapter 489: Extra Chapter: The Thirty-Sixth Year of Jianyan

Extra Chapter: The Thirty-Sixth Year of Jianyan

In the thirty-sixth year of Jianyan, the Prince of Qin, Han Shizhong, passed away.

The time was the twenty-first day of the first month. Two days earlier, on the nineteenth, this foremost meritorious minister had still accompanied His Majesty in activities: in the morning, he went to the Royal Original Society to observe the latest experiment on the "ratio of yang qi to yin qi"; in the afternoon, he visited the city's northern stables to see the "giant summer horses" reportedly brought from England... It was said that the Prince of Qin even joked at the time that although such horses were not fit for the battlefield, they at least let one understand how magnificent the iron elephants of old must have been.

As a result, come evening, after drinking some wine, the Prince of Qin felt dizzy, lay down, and could not rise again. By daylight on the twenty-first, he was clearly in a dying state.

When the news spread, His Majesty, naturally shocked, came to visit in person.

To be fair, from top to bottom—from His Majesty to the Prince of Qin's household relatives, and then to the common scholars and people outside watching the excitement—although everyone took this matter seriously and was somewhat surprised, no one showed any signs of panic or unease... After all, the Prince of Qin was already seventy-five years old, and having joined the army in his youth, he had endured decades of jolting on horseback and suffered dozens of wounds. That he had reached this day was the result of twenty years of leisurely retirement, a broad and tolerant mindset, and proper care.

Among the common folk, this would be called a "joyful funeral."

Moreover, the gradual passing of the Jianyan meritorious ministers was nothing new. The older famous ministers and generals had already gone in waves. Starting three years ago, Zhang Jun, Wang Yan, Zhao Ding, Qu Duan, and Mo Qixie—all of similar age—had also passed away one after another, clearly indicating that another large group had reached their appointed time.

When Zhao Jiu arrived before the large kang bed in Han Shizhong's bedroom, he first saw that the man was already almost only babbling nonsense. After waiting a moment, seeing that his spirit had somewhat revived and his consciousness was clear, and that he was struggling to sit up, Zhao Jiu knew that his good minister was merely experiencing a final rally and that there was ultimately nothing he could do.

"Does Liangchen have any final instructions?" Zhao Jiu sat by the edge of the kang, looking at the other's full head of white hair, his heart filled with sorrow, but he suppressed it, speaking as if it were routine.

"What instructions? Should I weep and beg Your Majesty to promote my children?" Han Shizhong slowly shook his head. Normally vigorous and energetic, today he was even struggling and dazed. "His Majesty's grace and righteousness toward the Han family are unprecedented in history. Moreover, there have been nearly forty years of mutual understanding between ruler and minister. If I were still greedy and unsatisfied, wouldn't it make people laugh if word got out?"

Zhao Jiu nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

The attendants inside and outside the room, from Yang Yizhong on down, were roughly divided into two groups. One group was brought by Zhao Jiu—either nobles and sons of vassal princes, or young talents who were top graduates of the Imperial Academy or Military Academy. Upon hearing this, they all secretly marveled and admired. The other group was the relatives and younger generation led by the Han family's sons and daughters, who were emotionally overwhelmed and could not help but shed tears on the spot.

The Crown Prince and the Second Imperial Prince were both present, standing respectfully as juniors. Han Shizhong's eldest son, Han Yanzhi, was on official business in Japan, but his wife, Princess Yiyou, was present and stood with the Han family members.

However, after a pause, Han Shizhong still recalled one matter: "Your Majesty, do you still remember the old affair of the Three Saints Temple?"

"I remember." Zhao Jiu thought briefly and immediately nodded. "The Three Saints Temple at the Fengtai Camp—there was a long dispute at the time. The soldiers transferred from the Western Army wanted to build it, but the Imperial Library forbade it, calling it an improper cult. In the end, it was you, Liangchen, who made a scene at the Imperial Library, saying they were three heroes who pacified Xia, and only then was it built... Is there something to say about it?"

"There is." Han Shizhong replied with effort. "That thing was indeed an improper cult... The three saints it enshrined were actually three western lizards from Guanzhong."

The entire room visibly froze... Several quick-witted and uninvolved jinshi even felt like complaining: truly worthy of the Prince of Qin—even on his deathbed, he could stir things up!

However, Zhao Jiu's expression remained unchanged: "I know. Yang Yizhong told me at the time. The three lizards in Pingxia City—when the soldiers were besieged by the Western Xia army, at the end of their rope and seeing no way out, they prayed to them for rain, and it actually rained. From then on, the Western Army remembered these three saints, offering sacrifices whenever they marched or set up camp."

"Your Majesty knew and was still so magnanimous." Han Shizhong couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"When the soldiers from Guanzhong came to Yanjing, thousands of li from home, they needed some spiritual support to settle down." Zhao Jiu sighed. "If I couldn't even pretend to be ignorant, I would have wasted decades as emperor."

The bedroom was naturally quiet. In the outer room, several secretaries and academicians couldn't help but let their eyes wander, clearly moved.

"That's true." Han Shizhong nodded with effort. "My meaning is here... I've thought for a long time. Of course, the three lizards are a story from the Western Army, but comparing them with the many soldiers and meritorious ministers who died in battle during the Jianyan era still makes me feel ashamed... I would like to ask Your Majesty to make the best of a mistake and explicitly change the three saints in the Three Saints Temple to Wu Jie, Qu Duan, and Wang Shu, who died early. That would ease some of my guilt."

"Good." Zhao Jiu immediately nodded. "We can also take the opportunity to include Zhang Yongzhen, Hou Dan, Li Yongqi, and the others who sacrificed earlier."

"That's good, that's good." Han Shizhong nodded but then reminded him, "I don't need to be included... I have enjoyed all the riches and honors of the world; it's not necessary."

"Good." Zhao Jiu immediately agreed. "Anything else?"

Han Shizhong leaned against the wall, his white hair somewhat disheveled. He thought for a moment and finally shook his head.

The ruler and minister sat facing each other in silence.

After a long while, Han Shizhong smiled first: "Am I making Your Majesty wait idly while dying?"

Zhao Jiu was about to speak.

Unexpectedly, Han Shizhong made a playful request: "Your Majesty once presented Zong Zhongwu with 'Green Jade Cup.' I wonder if today you have a poem or lyric to give me as I go to 'all things empty'?"

Zhao Jiu immediately smiled bitterly and refused: "Others may not know, but Liangchen, don't you? I have long been a 'prodigy who lost his touch.' I no longer have any literary ability."

"No matter, no matter. Write anything, it doesn't matter." Han Shizhong struggled to reach out his hand and even grasped the emperor's arm. "Bring a board. I'll write one, and Your Majesty write one. Otherwise, what are we doing at a time like this? Are we all just standing here waiting for me to die?"

Zhao Jiu's mind was originally in turmoil, afraid he couldn't think of an excellent poem or lyric to match the other's request. But when the other's hand grasped his arm, he felt that the strength was less than a tenth of usual, and his heart filled with grief. In the end, he couldn't bear to refuse.

Thus, in a moment, the items were all prepared.

Zhao Jiu sat at the table by the kang, while Han Shizhong sat on the kang leaning against the wall, facing the paper and brush before them. Both remained silent and motionless for a long time... For no other reason than that at this moment, one was still grieving and distracted, the other purely lacking energy. Both their minds were completely blank—neither knowing what they were thinking, nor what they wanted to think, nor what to write.

After a long while, Han Shizhong coughed, then raised his white-haired head and smiled bitterly: "Your Majesty, if you can't write, copying half a line will do... I am ashamed, but this is just my nature—I can't bear a moment of peace even for a lifetime."

Zhao Jiu nodded, raised his brush, and wrote one line. But it was only one line, and he felt it was wrong, yet he couldn't bear to erase it, so he couldn't continue. On the other side, Han Shizhong thought for a long time, struggled to lift his brush, and wrote one line crookedly before his strength gave out. He then stared tensely at Zhao Jiu.

Zhao Jiu understood the other's intention, raised the single line, and showed it to him. The latter only glanced at it, then seemed relieved and began to gasp for breath.

To be fair, everyone present, even knowing that this occasion required solemnity and restraint, couldn't help but look at what the two had written... The attending Secretariat Drafter, Zhu Xi, happened to be standing at the end of the kang and saw most clearly, letting out a sigh in his heart.

It was said that although His Majesty always claimed to be a "prodigy who lost his touch" or "a talent exhausted," he was, after all, a truly refined figure who had experienced great storms. When he set brush to paper, he still produced a stroke of accidental brilliance. Just one line was enough to capture the story of their meeting as ruler and minister.

No wonder the Prince of Qin, who was fond of fame, was still fixated on it even at death—he wanted people to recall this line in the future and think of him, Han Shizhong.

It turned out that what Zhao Jiu had written was merely:

"If life were only as it first appeared, why would the autumn wind grieve over the painted fan?"

On the other side, Han Shizhong, having seen this single line—whether poem or lyric—felt relieved. Then he looked at what he himself had written, hesitated for a moment, and still struggled to raise it. His handwriting was crooked, clearly his strength exhausted, yet it was an old poem, or rather an old "gatha," from the work of the Fifth Patriarch of the Linji School, Shi Fayan—the grand-teacher of the famous Great Wisdom Monk:

"In essence, his bones and flesh are fine; without rouge or powder, he is naturally elegant."

It was said that the Linji School was now the dominant branch of Buddhism in China and Japan, and everyone present was learned, so they immediately recognized this as a line from an old poem... Yet they still found it fitting.

The Prince of Qin should be this proud.

Moreover, his conduct on the battlefield throughout his life was indeed like this gatha—though unadorned, he was naturally handsome and naturally elegant.

Even Zhu Xi, who detested Buddhism and hoped the Original Society would return to basics, could only sigh.

Han Shizhong struggled to display this piece of paper for a moment, then his hands went limp, and his head drooped back. He seemed to want to shout something, but when the words reached his lips, he only mustered his last bit of strength to laugh: "This life, I've eaten well enough!"

Then came rapid gasping, faintly mixed with the sound of phlegm.

Zhao Jiu, having seen life and death so often over the years, naturally knew the time had come. He did not stay to watch his old friend breathe his last but slowly rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked out... Yet he did not leave, nor did he dare to leave. He just stood under the eaves outside, staring blankly at the small patch of unmelted snow at the base of a tree in the courtyard.

Not long after, suddenly a burst of weeping arose from inside the room. Zhao Jiu's expression remained unchanged, but his heart trembled, the string within him thoroughly plucked.

In a moment, Yang Yizhong, his hair graying, did not dare to delay. He walked out quickly, lowered his head, and reported the words that had to be spoken: "Your Majesty, the Prince of Qin has passed away."

Zhao Jiu nodded: "The Eldest Prince and the Second Prince (the two imperial princes) will handle all matters concerning Liangchen's funeral."

Having said this, without waiting for a reply from those behind, the emperor in his blue robe walked straight ahead with his hands clasped behind his back, his attendants following. However, when he reached the tree in the courtyard, he suddenly stopped. He first looked at the slush of snow at his feet, then raised his head to see the branches already showing some green buds, and then turned around:

"Which of you can draft an imperial decree most simply and clearly? No literary embellishment—just state it directly."

The several accompanying secretaries looked at each other. Wang Shipeng, the highest-ranking among them in seniority and office, stepped forward, cupped his hands, and replied solemnly: "Let Your Majesty know that Secretary Zhu's writing is plain and straightforward, with no risk of error or ambiguity. He can do it."

In truth, it didn't matter who wrote it; Zhao Jiu passing notes had become a habit. But Wang Shipeng, as the head of the accompanying secretaries, had the duty to arrange the work, and this time it fell to the newcomer Zhu Xi to write.

Zhao Jiu nodded: "Then let Yuanhui write it. The meaning is simple: I intend to abdicate and become Retired Emperor... Once drafted, send it to the Eastern and Western Administrations, the Censorate, the Secret Pavilion, and the Public Pavilion."

Having said this, the Imperial Lord raised his hand and left directly.

Behind him, many people, including Yang Yizhong and Wang Shipeng, were instantly stunned on the spot. A few scattered individuals, not yet reacting, followed the Imperial Lord a few steps forward before suddenly stopping, their faces turning pale with shock. Then those who had been stunned earlier came to their senses and rushed forward, colliding with each other and falling into chaos.

After much difficulty, a few sturdy men managed to chase after him, but disregarding propriety, they knelt down in a row right in the courtyard, blocking the Emperor.

"The Prince of Qin has just passed—do not disturb him," Zhao Jiu said sternly, clearly having anticipated this, cutting off the crowd before they could speak. "And this matter is not a whim of mine. If there are objections, let the chief ministers discuss them with me. You need only draft the edict!"

With that, the Imperial Lord flicked his sleeves and left. This time, no one dared to stop him, but a storm of shock finally surged in their hearts.

In the end, most people hurried after him, while a few, who by protocol remained to assist in drafting and transmitting the edict, fixed their gazes on Zhu Xi.

Zhu Yuanhui, however, was quite straightforward. As a newly transferred Secretary from a Vice Prefect post, what did he have to worry about? And what use would worrying be? So he went to the front courtyard, sought out brush and ink, and simply wrote down the edict.

Yet, for all his self-proclaimed steadfastness, after writing just that single sentence, he was drenched in sweat, and his hands trembled as he sealed the edict.

He couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

After the edict was sent out, it was a long while before he calmed his mind and prepared to go find the Imperial Lord. Stepping out of the side courtyard, he saw the attendants of the two Imperial Princes. He thought of informing the Crown Prince, with whom he was on good terms, but dared not... In truth, the surroundings were in utter chaos, and the Imperial Lord had already been gone for half an hour, yet not a single person dared to relay this news to the two Imperial Princes, who were still managing the funeral arrangements in the innermost hall.

Thirty-six years of a sage ruler—his accumulated authority had reached this point.

Of course, the news was bound to spread, because the Imperial Lord had intended to release it from the start... Once the edict reached the two Administrations and the Censorate, the chief ministers would know; once it reached the Secret Pavilion, the backbone of the entire bureaucracy would know; once it reached the Public Pavilion, the whole realm would know.

The chief ministers dared not delay. The Chief Councillor of the Department of State Affairs, Chen Gui; the Second Councillor, Hu Quan; the Second Councillor, Yu Yunwen; the Director of the Bureau of Military Affairs, Liu Qi; the Vice Director, Li Master; the Vice Director, Jiang Fu; and the Censor-in-Chief, Chen Junqing, immediately communicated with each other, then promptly entered the palace together for an audience with the Emperor.

However, the Imperial Lord had not yet returned to the palace at this time, nor was he even at the Prince of Qin's residence. His close attendants had apparently been instructed beforehand, specifically informing the chief ministers that after leaving the Prince of Qin's residence, the Imperial Lord had gone to the Daxiangguo Temple, and asked the lords to wait a while.

Soon, the chief ministers realized the intent behind the Imperial Lord's actions. For when news reached them, several other high officials and meritorious veterans in Yanjing, including the Public Councillor Zhang Jun and the Prince of Wei Yue Fei, immediately requested to enter the palace. They too were led to the Qionghua Island in the North Sea of the palace to await orders together.

In a short while, several dozen people had gathered.

Clearly, the Imperial Lord intended to gather the core figures who were concerned about or had opinions on this matter, to give a unified explanation.

"My resolve is firm. But if any of you have hesitations or concerns, speak them all out, so that I may set your minds at ease." By the afternoon, the Imperial Lord finally returned to Qionghua Island in the North Sea with a group of close attendants, and summoned the assembled ministers at a stone table beneath the spring trees on the island.

Yet, although everyone had rushed over in a flurry, it did not mean they were all completely opposed to the matter. In fact, anyone with common sense knew that an emperor choosing to abdicate after thirty-six years on the throne was not such an unacceptable thing, and was even clearly beneficial to the state.

However, this benefit could not be spoken of by the ministers. In the relationship between ruler and minister, as long as the Great Song remained a feudal imperial system and adhered to a Confucian-based political-moral ideology, it could not be said. Instead, they had to strenuously urge him to stay and offer consolation.

Then, if the Imperial Lord himself gave the reason, everything would be fine.

"Your subject implores Your Majesty to withdraw the edict!" At that moment, one man, disregarding that the Public Councillor, the Imperial Prince, and the chief ministers had not yet spoken, forcibly stepped forward and knelt to speak. "If Your Majesty abdicates, we northerners will have no place to stand!"

The crowd looked at him in surprise, seeing that it was the white-haired Vice Minister of Rites, Zhang Hao, and they suppressed their urge to rebuke him.

The reason was simple: this man was a former Jin defector, a mixed-blood from Liaodong (Han and Bohai), and the only former Jin defector on the island. To rebuke him was, first, not worth it; second, his concern had some merit.

The Imperial Lord had to give him an answer.

"What are you thinking?" Zhao Jiu replied calmly. "The capital is established in Yanjing, and I have divided the quotas for the Imperial Academy and Military Academy into four lists: Southern, Western, Outer, and Northern. The court will only look after northerners more and more. If you insist that northerners face a difficult position, it is because the former Jin fell only a little over twenty years ago, and there are still high ministers who experienced the Jingkang Incident, so some exclusion is inevitable... If I abdicate early and a new emperor ascends, it will actually remove this awkwardness... Or rather, this is one of the reasons for my abdication."

Zhang Hao was stunned on the ground for a moment, then kowtowed heavily again: "In that case, Your subject is ashamed. I beg to retire to Liaodong due to old age and illness."

"That's fine too," Zhao Jiu nodded. "You have worked hard over the years managing Liaodong and handling the Northeast. Go back and rest well... The ground is cold. Get up. You know I don't like people kneeling before me."

Zhang Hao kowtowed heavily once more, then finally fell silent, rising to stand in attendance at the very back.

At this point, the new and old chief ministers had already formulated their thoughts. After exchanging glances and testing each other, the retired Zhang Jun, as the most senior in experience and, by political tradition, still holding the status of overseeing major military and state affairs—effectively the leader of the Public Pavilion—stepped forward and cupped his hands, opening the discussion from an unexpected angle:

"Your Majesty, may I ask—I came in haste—has the Prince of Qin passed away?"

"Yes," Zhao Jiu replied calmly. "He passed at noon."

This news should have been the headline, but it was overshadowed by the Imperial Lord's edict, so many present were unaware of it and were somewhat surprised.

"Then may I ask Your Majesty," Zhang Jun continued, cupping his hands. "Did Your Majesty conceive this intention to abdicate out of grief over the Prince of Qin's death?"

"That is part of it—it was a trigger," Zhao Jiu said frankly. "But the decision to abdicate has been pondered for a long time. I only settled on it today."

Zhang Jun nodded and had nothing more to say.

"Your subject presumes to ask," Chief Councillor Chen Gui immediately followed up. "Why did Your Majesty have such thoughts? If you do not clearly instruct the court, I fear it will cause unrest among both the officials and the people."

"The reason is simple: to seek benefit and avoid harm. For me, being such a long-reigning emperor is inauspicious," Zhao Jiu sighed, ticking off points. "I have calculated that before me, there were only seven emperors who reigned for forty years. Emperor Wu of Han and Emperor Xuanzong of Tang both peaked and then declined. Emperor Wu of Liang failed even to achieve his accomplishments before collapsing. The two emperors of Liao and Emperor Renzong of our dynasty all fell into chaos and accumulated ills in their later years, laying the groundwork for national ruin. The Later Lord of Shu-Han was simply a ruler of a fallen state... When an emperor rules too long, he indulges in his own authority and pleasure, gradually becoming dull and confused. This is a common principle. You are all deeply learned; you should understand this better than I do."

That was the argument, but they could hardly say that the Imperial Lord was about to become a tyrant, so everyone prepared to urge him to stay.

"That is only one reason. From the perspective of the new emperor, it is simply unavoidable," Zhao Jiu seemed to know what they were about to say and quickly waved his hand to stop them, which only caused more alarm among the crowd.

What did that mean? Was someone below about to become Emperor Taizong of Tang?

In their panic, some even looked toward the Prince of Wei, Yue Fei... Well, the Prince of Qin had just died; the eldest prince had likely lost his military support. Then the second prince had contacted the Prince of Wei—was this about to become unbridled?

But this was just a thought, a side effect of everyone on this island having read too many books—their minds automatically running wild.

In truth, upon careful consideration, this line of thinking didn't hold up at all.

The Bureau of Military Affairs Director Liu Qi was right there; Yang Yizhong, in charge of the secret memorial system, was also present; the Military Academy had always been under the Imperial Lord's direct control; the Imperial Guard was filled with sons of princes from the outer domains. What was there to stir up? Moreover, the Prince of Wei, since retiring, had focused his efforts on the Military Academy and military colonies, with no hint of improper contact with the princes.

"Don't overthink it," Zhao Jiu said, clearly seeing the strange looks on their faces, and gave the answer directly. "I have observed throughout history: any crown prince or imperial prince who remains in that position for a long time without succeeding becomes twisted and maladjusted. If the father's achievements are too great, it even leads to father-son conflict—countless examples. The First Emperor had Fusu; Emperor Wu of Han had the Witchcraft Scandal; Emperor Taizong of Tang established a young heir; Emperor Xuanzong of Tang and his son were suspicious of each other for decades; the most frightening were Emperor Wen and Emperor Yang of Sui... This is human nature. It was so in the past and will be so in the future. I do not believe my sons can transcend this. Rather than let father and son grow estranged, it is better to make an early succession to reassure everyone."

Chen Gui had no choice but to steel himself and say: "All the princes are benevolent and filial..."

"Don't speak nonsense," Zhao Jiu finally waved his hand impatiently. "I asked you all to come to the island so you could speak freely... The principle is right here. If I cling to the throne for too long, I will inevitably become negligent and tyrannical; the princes will inevitably become anxious and repressed... To refute this principle would be hypocritical. In short, neither is good for the realm. It is better to settle this now while I am still clear-headed."

Chen Gui and the others exchanged helpless glances. Finally, the Chief Councillor gritted his teeth and got to the crux: "Your subject is ashamed, but I must ask Your Majesty to clarify. Your Majesty is in the prime of life, still vigorous. If you abdicate now, while it may be a precautionary measure, is there perhaps some dissatisfaction with the governance of your ministers, or signs of the princes contending for power and gathering followers, that have caused Your Majesty to grow weary and angry, prompting this decision?"

As he spoke, not only did Chief Councillor Chen Gui lower his head, but the surrounding ministers—Public Councillor Zhang Jun, Prince of Wei Yue Fei, Bureau of Military Affairs Director Liu Qi, and all the civil and military officials—also cupped their hands and bowed their heads. Yang Yizhong, leading the attendants, likewise stepped aside, cupped his hands, and bowed his head, waiting for the Imperial Lord to give his formal reply.

In truth, Chen Gui's question, along with Zhang Jun's earlier fear that the Imperial Lord was acting on a momentary emotional impulse, was the key reason the chief ministers and high officials had gathered here.

No one was foolish. The Imperial Lord had been emperor for thirty-six years. Abdicating to an adult prince, while not necessarily a good thing, was a matter whose principles and precedents everyone understood. However, an emperor's abdication was still an emperor's abdication, involving many and significant matters.

It wasn't just about "one dynasty, one set of ministers"—that was a future concern. The key issue now was: why was the Imperial Lord abdicating? If it was well-considered, then within that consideration, was there disappointment with certain specific people or events? If so, who would bear the responsibility?

If it was due to improper handling of government affairs, then the chief ministers were at fault.

If it was because a particular prince's behavior had disgusted the Imperial Lord, then that prince must be punished.

In an instant, countless matters flashed through the minds of those on the island: the civil strife in the Great Qing, the unrest among the Mongols, the "lower overcoming the higher" in Japan; the conflict between northern and southern scholars, the debate between the Yuanxue and Xinxue schools, the pros and cons of population growth, the worry that the six Maritime Trade Supervisorates' annual revenue of eight million strings had stagnated for ten years... and the Suzhou Silk-Reeling Workshop Arson Case, which had led to the downfall of several high officials in the Secret Pavilion!

Especially the last incident, which occurred last year. Although it was ultimately handled according to the Imperial Lord's wishes, the Department of State Affairs and the Secret Pavilion had their strategies rejected by the Imperial Lord several times. The Imperial Lord himself visited the Secret Pavilion three times and the Public Pavilion twice. In the end, the then Vice Minister of Revenue Lu You, the brother-in-law of Imperial Consort Wu, Zhang Shuo, and the Pacification Commissioner of Zhejiang, Liu Gong, were all reprimanded and dismissed.

Looking back now, the Imperial Lord's reaction to this matter was far greater than anyone had anticipated.

If the Imperial Lord said it was because of this, would all the Secret Pavilion members here have to resign together?

The Zhao Emperor thought for a moment, then said seriously, "There is one matter that truly weighs on my mind."

The crowd couldn't help but feel a start, each pricking up their ears to listen.

"That is, the Original Learning is gradually flourishing, yet the dispute between Principle and Mind has arisen—I absolutely cannot tolerate this." The Zhao Emperor replied earnestly. "After I abdicate, I intend to devote myself entirely to this matter."

The crowd felt both relieved and somewhat taken aback.

Moreover, the dispute between Principle and Mind within Original Learning was almost inevitable... In the history of the original world, the great development of Confucianism in the Southern Song, which ultimately formed the Principle Learning of that original history, was essentially a reaction by Song Confucians—who had the task of building a new Confucianism—to the Humiliation of Jingkang. Hence, they placed extraordinary emphasis on moral integrity and such, and the foundation that spurred the rise of Principle Learning was spread by disheartened pro-war ministers through their students and descendants.

So what was the situation Zhao Jiu now faced?

Very simple: the originally disheartened pro-war faction had all become meritorious officials of the Jianyan era, and Original Learning was deeply tied to the achievements of Jianyan. Therefore, they and their sons and disciples—the elite throughout the court—naturally became the backbone of Original Learning.

However, since the elders, as meritorious officials and controllers of actual political power, often only regarded Original Learning as an auxiliary to their achievements and an ornament to their power, even if the Zhao Emperor's Original Learning was absurd and messy, they would do their best to go along with it without engaging in deep discussion.

But their students, sons and disciples, including subsequent ordinary Imperial Academy students, were different. They had no direct opportunity to establish achievements, and could only enter the system through scholarship, which led them to place extreme importance on Original Learning... Yet Original Learning was clearly a patchwork, defective product assembled by the Zhao Emperor. Aside from its various other flaws, one biggest, inherent problem was that it couldn't connect to the moral heart of traditional Confucianism.

So what was to be done?

In a new empire with a deep Confucian tradition, a group of young imperial elites were inextricably linked to Original Learning, yet Original Learning had flaws—what could be done?

Naturally, they would supplement and complete Original Learning.

And in this supplementation, a divergence arose—the very dispute between Principle and Mind that Zhao Jiu now faced... Roughly speaking, the former believed that action comes after knowledge, that investigating things leads to understanding, and that comprehending external principles educates the mind—thus Principle first, Mind second, with Principle as the guiding thread and Mind as the follower. The latter believed that knowledge comes after action, that the complexity of the human mind rivals the cosmos, and that by penetrating the inner mind and tempering morality, one can naturally know the principles of all things—thus Mind first, Principle second, with Mind as the guiding thread and Principle as the follower.

Returning to the present, when the several high ministers heard the Zhao Emperor say this, they didn't react much, only thinking that the Zhao Emperor had found a lofty, unassailable excuse. At the very least, compared to the idea that continuing as Crown Prince would surely lead to death, it could indeed be used to respond to subjects and commoners.

However, someone still exceeded their expectations.

"Your subject presumes." Zhu Xi, who had previously been tasked with drafting the edict, directly raised his head and stepped out of order to ask. "If Your Majesty intends to devote himself to Original Learning... will he follow Principle, or follow Mind?"

"Follow Principle." Zhao Jiu glanced at this man and replied succinctly.

Zhu Xi was startled and was about to speak.

And the Zhao Emperor continued: "I have long had my position on the dispute between Principle and Mind. Before, as Emperor, it was not good for me to intervene directly. Now that I am abdicating, I will have the initiative... If the court and the new Emperor try to go against my true intent and act recklessly in this matter, it would be an attempt to overturn my achievements for their own gain—an act of great unfilialness. I would then depose and re-establish the heir. If I cannot depose him, I will go to Mount Bagong and raise the banner of resistance against Song, adopting a stance of irreconcilable opposition between Han and traitor."

Not just Zhu Xi, everyone was dumbfounded.

Simply put, even Zhang Jun and Yue Fei had not heard the Zhao Emperor express such a fierce stance in a long time.

As for the young supporters of Mind Learning present, they were all completely stunned.

"Do you think I am abdicating to promote Original Learning as a pretense?" Zhao Jiu sneered at the sight. "On the contrary, I feel that I am old and frail, and know that I can only concentrate on one thing. Therefore, I am abandoning the state to pursue learning... How could it be a pretense? In short, my mind is made up. Are there any more questions?"

Seeing the Zhao Emperor so forthright, the crowd had nothing more to say and all cupped their hands in salute.

Chief Minister Chen Gui had no choice but to ask: "To whom does Your Majesty intend to pass the throne? When will the abdication take place?"

This question was also routine. The edict to pass the throne to the eldest imperial prince had been hanging from the beam inside the Daan Hall ever since the first day the Yanjing Palace was renovated—nearly twenty years without being moved.

"I do not intend to hold an abdication ceremony." Zhao Jiu waved his hand immediately. "Nor will I name anyone. After I abdicate, I will go to reside in Bianjing and establish a school there. Before I leave, I will leave behind a personal letter. After I am gone, you Chief Councillors and high officials... Deyuan, Pengju, go together with the seven Chief Councillors to Daan Hall, take down the abdication edict, and jointly implement the succession."

That was also acceptable.

Matters having reached this point, everyone could see that the Zhao Emperor's resolve was firm. And given this Emperor's prestige, once his resolve was firm, there was nothing more to argue about regarding the matter itself.

Moreover, with the Prince of Qin having just died and the Zhao Emperor's emotions clearly still there, everyone stopped discussing the succession itself.

"Why does Your Majesty wish to go to Bianjing?" Han Shizhong being dead, Yue Fei, as the de facto leader of the surviving military officers, had remained silent until now, when he finally asked a question.

"I originally wanted to go to Hangzhou." The Zhao Emperor replied calmly. "But it's too far. If I let myself go even a little, it would be easier for north and south to split. But if I don't leave, my presence here would only make it difficult for the new Emperor to act freely."

Yue Fei nodded: "If that is the case, your subject requests to accompany Your Majesty south."

Zhang Jun also cupped his hands: "Your subject also wishes to accompany Your Majesty back to Bianjing."

"Wait a few years." Zhao Jiu waved his hand. "You must stay in Yanjing with the Chief Councillors to support the new Emperor... Come find me in a few years."

The crowd was finally left with no choice.

And the Zhao Emperor sighed, finally standing up:

"In my thirty-six years on the throne, I have accomplished nothing else, but three things: first, uniting the realm's forces to annihilate the Jin state, restore Huaxia, and establish the Central State; second, repairing the Yellow River, lifting the maritime ban, connecting the realm, and allowing the people a little respite and prosperity; third, maintaining the system, delegating power and releasing control, so that the upper and lower levels do not stagnate... If there is anything else worth mentioning, it is this half-finished Original Learning. Regardless, it has let everyone know how vast the world is and how diverse all things are... However, this Original Learning is ultimately half-baked, its foundation is hollow, and I am old. I can only focus on one thing, so naturally I must do this."

Hearing this, the last group of people present also abandoned their self-righteousness, realizing that the Zhao Emperor was still the Zhao Emperor, and this abdication was instead about getting things done.

"You people had best not doubt my resolve." Zhao Jiu stood with his hands behind his back, facing away from the crowd, his gaze falling on the afternoon ripples of Beihai Lake. "In my entire life, no matter how timid or incompetent I have been, I have never abandoned the word 'resolve,' and I have always persevered... If I can live another twenty years, and Original Learning can stand firm, do you believe that I would, like the Persian Dragon Ancestor reported in the gazettes, campaign into the barbarian wilderness in my old age and die ten thousand li from my homeland?"

As he spoke, in the utter silence, the man turned his head back, looking at the many people of varying ages and ranks present, and sighed: "It's just a pity that if such a time truly comes, when spring flowers bloom again, I wonder how many of those present today will still be alive to write a line of poetry for me."

In the thirty-sixth year of Jianyan, the Zhao Song Emperor Zhao Jiu passed the throne to his eldest son, Zhao Yuanzuo, becoming the Retired Emperor, and returned to Bianjing.