Chapter 109: The Flower-Monk Lu Lu Zhishen

And another thing—does liking micro-management mean you're definitely a logistics commander?

No, you might also be Zhao Zhao Guangyi!

Thinking of Zhao Zhao Guangyi's micro-management, Zhang Zhang Jie silently added to himself.

How far did Zhao Zhao Guangyi take his micro-management?

He issued detailed battle plans to his frontline general, Cui Hanfa,

specifying exactly where to set camp, and precisely how many formations to deploy on each flank.

When his childhood friend and deputy general, Zhao Yanjin, arrived at the battlefield, he was stunned:

Most of the eight formations were rivers—were soldiers supposed to fight by swimming?

So he joined forces with Li Li Jilong, Zhao Zhao Guangyi's brother-in-law and army supervisor, to urge General Cui Hanfa to change the formation.

Cui Hanfa dared not, saying that even if they lost, it wouldn't matter since he was following the Emperor's orders.

Then, desperate, Li Li Jilong and Zhao Yanjin immediately assured Cui Hanfa:

If we change the formation and lose, the Emperor will chop off our heads—it has nothing to do with you.

Only then did Cui Hanfa change the formation, and they won a great victory over the Liao army, beheading tens of thousands.

After this battle, though they had won,

Zhao Yanjin and Li Li Jilong escaped punishment only because one was Zhao Zhao Guangyi's childhood friend and brother-in-law,

and the other was Zhao Zhao Guangyi's brother-in-law; as for Cui Hanfa, he was neither rewarded nor punished.

Compared to his brother Zhao Zhao Kuangyin's orders:

Zhao Zhao Kuangyin's order: Sichuan is heavily exploited; the people are exhausted, the troops worn down—

advance on multiple fronts, win through chaos, and when you take a pass, concentrate all your forces…

Zhao Zhao Guangyi's order: Order your troops to shift the crossbow formation five meters to the left…

Besides these mocking titles—High Liang River Car God, Death Poison Master, Axe Gang Boss, and Nude Photo Founder—

Zhao Zhao Guangyi actually performed quite well in other areas.

Throughout history, dynasties led by second-generation rulers lacking ability always collapsed quickly,

like Hu Hai of Qin or Yang Guang of Sui.

If you can't control the remnants of the previous dynasty or the founding ministers, you're doomed.

But the second-generation rulers of long-lasting dynasties—Emperor Taizong of Tang Li Li Shimin, Emperor Chengzu of Ming Zhu Di, and the early Han emperors—were no ordinary men.

And the situation at the beginning of the Song was much like that of the Later Zhou:

One misstep, and it would fall back into the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms cycle—

an incompetent heir, warlords seizing opportunity, rebelling to found a new dynasty—then, when the new warlords grew lax or their heirs proved weak,

another warlord would find his chance and rebel again.

Zhao Zhao Guangyi's ability to achieve a smooth transition from Emperor Taizu to Emperor Taizong of Song was certainly no ordinary feat.

Moreover, though he lacked martial prowess,

he was unquestionably a political master in civil administration:

He implemented major reforms, including expanding the imperial examination system,

strengthening central authority, encouraging agricultural production, and compiling large-scale literary works.

These measures aligned with historical trends and made vital contributions to the stability and development of the Song Dynasty.

Had it not been for the later appearance of Emperor Huizong and Emperor Qinzong,

Northern Song could have lasted another several decades.

'But this might actually be a blessing in disguise!'

Zhang Zhang Jie's thoughts turned strangely: the Jurchens, after seizing Emperor Huizong, Emperor Qinzong, and other imperial relatives and high officials—those privileged elites who only reaped benefits without doing any work—

allowed Prince Kang, Zhao Gou, to start fresh in Lin'an, extending the Song's reign by another 150 years.

Together, the Northern and Southern Song lasted over three hundred years,

surpassing the Ming and Qing dynasties, each of which lasted exactly 276 years by coincidence.

Let Prince Kang Gou arrive in Lin'an light and unburdened, extending the Song dynasty's mandate by another 150 years.

Its reign lasted less than a century—only a mere 98 years—compared to the Song, Ming, and Qing, it was nothing but a roadside weed.

'Let me tell you…'

How could one keep such an amusing story to oneself?

Zhang Zhang Jie immediately shared Zhao Er's bizarre nicknames and their origins with Wu Song and the others.

Compared to the Ming and Qing dynasties, it was barely a roadside weed.

Li Gang, after sobering up from his hangover soup, couldn't help but laugh.

How could one keep something interesting all to oneself?

Compared to the reserved Li Gang, Wu Song burst out laughing, slapping his thigh:

'I never thought Emperor Taizong was such a fascinating man!'

After drinking the sobering soup, Li Gang couldn't help but chuckle.

Emboldened by Wu Song, Li Gang also couldn't hold back and laughed aloud.

For a moment, the air between them was filled with mirth.

After laughing, Li Gang's expression turned serious, and he solemnly warned:

'Di Renjie, though our Song does not punish speech, such jokes about Emperor Taizong and other emperors—

don't repeat them to others, lest someone use them as an excuse to attack you.'

'Don't worry—I only say this among friends.

I won't say it anywhere else.'

Zhang Zhang Jie gave Li Gang a reassuring look.

Though the Song doesn't punish speech, some things seem weightless until weighed—

once put on the scale, even a thousand catties won't be enough. To get by, you must learn to keep your mouth shut.

As Zhang Zhang Jie and the others prepared to start their second run and eat a bit more,

a series of shouts reached their ears:

First, the waiter's voice, tinged with resignation:

'Sir, I'm truly sorry, but we can't sell you alcohol.'

Then came a loud, rough voice, refusing to accept it:

'I'm not refusing to pay! Why won't you sell me wine?'

'That's strange—when has a tavern ever refused to sell wine?'

Li Gang became interested.

Never mind anything else—he'd just drunk a few more cups and was nearly drunk himself!

Zhang Zhang Jie smiled faintly and suggested:

'Why not go see for yourself?'

The group immediately went to the second-floor courtyard of the tavern and looked down.

'Wow! What a mighty monk!'

Seeing the man arguing with the waiter—or more accurately, a monk in monastic robes—Li Gang exclaimed in surprise.

The monk stood eight feet tall, with a waist ten spans around,

a round face, large ears, a straight nose, a square mouth, and a full beard covering his cheeks—

even compared to Wu Song, famed for his imposing strength, he held his own!

As Li Gang marveled, the argument below continued.

Helpless, the waiter called the owner.

The owner's face beamed with a kind smile; he bowed slightly and pleaded:

'Master, it's not that we refuse to sell you wine.

We have an agreement with the elders of Daxiangguo Temple not to serve alcohol to any of you monks.

This small business can't afford trouble—please, Master, show mercy.'

'Hmph! Are the elders targeting me?'

The monk snorted, his face darkening, but said nothing more,

turned away in sullen silence, and began to leave.

At that moment, Zhang Zhang Jie, noticing the faint tattoos visible on the monk's exposed neck and arms,

guessed his identity and called out loudly:

'Master, if you don't mind, you may join us for a meal.'

The great monk snorted coldly, his expression displeased, but said nothing more,

He turned away, gloomy and unenthusiastic.

At that moment, he studied the monk's neck, uncovered by his robe,

and the faintly visible tattoos on his arms,

Zhang Zhang Jie, having formed a slight suspicion about the monk's identity, called out loudly:

"If this master does not mind, perhaps you could travel with us."

"This…"

Seeing Zhang Zhang Jie invite this drunken monk with tattoos, Li Gang's first instinct was to stop him.

His younger brother Di Renjie is a future pillar of the Great Song.

He must not be corrupted by such unsavory individuals.

But remembering that Zhang Zhang Jie was no ordinary man—he had topped the provincial examination before turning twenty,

earned the title of Jieyuan, then traveled a thousand li with only one bodyguard and emerged unscathed—

Li Gang swallowed the words rising to his throat.

Such an extraordinary man must have his reasons.

"Someone invited Brother Seng?"

The large monk turned his head toward the sound, gazing up to the second floor,

where a charming young man with an instantly likable smile was watching him.

"Hah! Since you invite me, Brother Lu Lu Zhishen will not refuse."

The large monk laughed heartily as he strode toward the second floor of the tavern.

'So it really is him—the Flower Monk Lu Lu Zhishen.'

Hearing the monk introduce himself, Zhang Zhang Jie understood at once.

Of all the heroes in Water Margin, none inspired greater affection than the Flower Monk.

He loathed evil, possessed a righteous heart, was coarse yet perceptive,

his legendary deeds including punching Zhen Guanxi, uprooting a weeping willow,

causing chaos in Peach Blossom Village, and rescuing Lin Chong from Wild Boar Forest.

He was loyal and righteous to his friends, spent his life fighting the strong to protect the weak, never acting for personal gain.

Compared to him, even Wu Song had grown increasingly extreme after being deceived by Shi En and others—

first wreaking havoc at Flying Cloud Pier, then staining the Mandarin Duck Pavilion with blood, his actions bordering on indiscriminate slaughter.

"Boss, what do we do?"

Watching Lu Lu Zhishen climb the stairs, the waiter was at a loss.

The boss first glanced at Lu Lu Zhishen's arms, thicker than his own thighs,

then at Zhang Zhang Jie, leaning against the railing with an air of distinction, and gritted his teeth:

"Since a guest has invited him, treat him as a normal customer."

Still, he added a warning:

"Keep a close eye—don't let them cause trouble."

"Understood!"

The waiter nodded solemnly.

"Greetings, gentlemen."

Lu Lu Zhishen bowed to Zhang Zhang Jie and the others.

"Zhang Zhang Jie greets Master Lu."

"Li Gang greets Master Lu."

"Wu Song greets Master Lu."

Zhang Zhang Jie and the others returned the greetings.

"Master Lu, please take your seat," Zhang Zhang Jie invited.

"Please."

After Lu Lu Zhishen replied, all took their places at the table.

After some conversation, they grew familiar.

Especially Lu Lu Zhishen's bold generosity deeply impressed Li Gang.

He kept marveling inwardly that Zhang Zhang Jie truly had the eye to recognize talent—his wisdom saw heroes.

Tap-tap-tap.

With Lu Lu Zhishen, a clearly hearty monk, joining them, Zhang Zhang Jie ordered another round of food and drink.

The waiter, instructed by the boss, swiftly brought wine and meat.

"Master Lu, please."

Zhang Zhang Jie raised a bowl of wine in invitation.

"Young Master Zhang, please."

Lu Lu Zhishen took a breath and drained the bowl in one gulp.

"Excellent!"

Seeing Lu Lu Zhishen's boldness, Wu Song couldn't help but cheer.

"Master Lu, I, Wu Er, offer you a bowl."

Wu Song's gaze toward Lu Lu Zhishen burned with eager challenge.

He, Wu Song, was the man who drank eighteen bowls of Three Bowls Won't Cross the Ridge, then killed a great tiger!

"Bottoms up!"

Lu Lu Zhishen didn't hesitate—he raised his bowl and drank.

Both Lu Lu Zhishen and Wu Song were avid drinkers; soon they were evenly matched, each a worthy opponent, locked in fierce contest.

"Gulps, gulps."

Before long, several empty wine jars littered the table…