Chapter 20: Bring It On—I Excel at Listing Accusations
Zhao Ning sighed and then turned around, his demeanor softening. “I know you haven’t had it easy. With chaos erupting everywhere and the city in turmoil, I don’t wish to make things difficult for you.”
Upon hearing this, Feng Xie’s tears flowed freely. He felt the emperor still cared deeply for him.
The emperor was truly a kind ruler; even when angry, it was out of helplessness.
This was the art of governing beneath the throne: scold you, strip you of your position, yet still make you believe he was a good man.
“Go now, rest well at home. I will handle what comes next. Recuperate properly; the dynasty will still need you in the future.”
Feng Xie wiped his tears and said, “I take my leave.”
No sooner had Feng Xie left than Zhao Ning called out, “Send someone!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Order the Imperial City Guard to arrest everyone on this list immediately! Interrogate them at once! Once the investigation is complete, send them to the Court of Judicial Review. I want their heads displayed on the city walls by tomorrow!”
Wang Huaiji took a deep breath. “Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Oh, and continue the home searches! Do not trouble their families too much—leave them enough to eat.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Wang Huaiji swiftly took the emperor’s orders to arrange the arrests.
He pondered how the emperor’s temper seemed to grow fiercer by the day.
The head of the Privy Council had just resigned!
News spread rapidly—this was a political upheaval of seismic proportions.
To recall, after He Li was dismissed, the position of Junior Chancellor remained vacant. Zhang Shuye currently held the post of Minister of War and Deputy Privy Councilor, essentially Sun Fu’s former position—not Junior Chancellor.
In other words, the top post in the Directorate of Political Affairs was vacant, and now the head of the Privy Council was gone too.
What on earth was the emperor planning?
Dismiss officials without appointing replacements?
Of course not.
Appointments would come, but not in haste. With war underway, the Junior Chancellor position was less critical.
Moreover, Zhao Ning already had his choices for the leaders of the Directorate of Political Affairs and the Privy Council.
One candidate was in the capital; the other was not.
Appointing a Privy Councilor now would only cause friction with Deputy Privy Councilor Zhang Shuye, who was currently in charge of overall coordination.
Removing Feng Xie was a strategic move.
Not only had the Privy Council head resigned, but Liu Chengqi, an external official in the capital, and two department heads were also arrested by the Imperial City Guard and taken directly for interrogation.
They were denied even the chance to request an audience with the emperor.
At this point, the public was stunned to discover the Imperial City Guard had not only begun confiscating property but also started interrogating high officials.
The Guard seemed to have suddenly gained considerable authority beyond mere intelligence work.
That evening, the matter of Liu Chengqi was publicly announced: issuing a grain requisition order without imperial approval, disturbing morale on the frontlines.
The sentence was straightforward: beheading and confiscation of property.
The mention of confiscations thrilled the Grand Marshal—more exciting than playing in the water with a maiden.
Zhao Ning, too, felt exhilarated.
Damn! The funds I just allocated are urgently needed.
No one needed money more than the emperor!
The next morning, November 30th, the fifth day since Zhao Ning’s arrival, five new heads appeared on the city walls.
They belonged to Liu Chengqi of the Privy Council, department heads Zhang He and Yang Zhong, and two captains of the Infantry Command, Li Ping and Wang Yun.
Their charges overlapped: undermining troop morale on the battlefield.
Killing was never done merely for the sake of killing.
It was to prevent further deaths.
How so?
Executing these men served to intimidate the looters ravaging the city, deterring those who might be tempted to join them.
If more people began to loot, more executions would follow.
Thus, these deaths were to prevent greater bloodshed.
Whether it was Yue Fei’s military governance or the methods of Wang Yangming or Qi Jiguang, the principle remained the same.
The five heads, displayed alongside Xu Bingzhe’s, still had their eyes open, gazing forward with mouths slightly agape, frozen in the terror of their last moments.
A trail of blood marked the tower below.
By mid-morning, their crimes were broadcast across the city, causing a public uproar.
Some elite troops, originally eager to seize the chaos, scurried back to their barracks.
Some courtiers had planned to use the opportunity to impeach Zhang Shuye, but Zhang remained in office; instead, Feng Xie took the fall.
And the emperor had executed three officials from the Privy Council in the capital at once.
This left many stunned, jaws dropping, while others were so excited they couldn’t sleep.
Where there is a vacancy, there are those eager to fill it.
The bureaucratic system was never monolithic; factions and rivalries abounded, even within the same faction, where self-interest often trumped loyalty.
For instance, that morning the Ministry of Personnel submitted a list of recommendations to the Directorate of Political Affairs.
The political arena roiled like a storm.
Wang Huaiji reported the total assets seized from Xu Bingzhe and Liu Chengqi.
After selling antiques, calligraphy, gold, and silver jewelry, the proceeds converted to cash amounted to 150,000 strings of coins from Xu Bingzhe and 50,000 from Liu Chengqi.
Zhang He, Yang Zhong, Li Ping, and Wang Yun combined yielded 30,000 strings.
Altogether: 230,000 strings.
Is that a lot?
Indeed.
Don’t mistake 230,000 strings for 230,000 yuan—they are vastly different.
Each string equaled 1,000 copper coins; 230,000 strings meant 230 million coins.
Two coins bought a bowl of porridge; an ordinary citizen in the capital earned 20 to 30 coins daily.
It would take 27,000 years without food or drink to amass such wealth.
In ancient times, possessing even a single string was a sign of great wealth.
These executed men, whether civil or military officials, were extremely rich.
Consider the monthly salary of an ordinary elite soldier: between 300 and 1,000 coins.
Meanwhile, a deputy magistrate of Kaifeng Prefecture amassed 150,000 strings—1.5 billion coins—the equivalent of 30,000 years’ wages for a common soldier.
Even the Infantry Captain Zhang He seized 8,000 strings (8 million coins), requiring a soldier 1,111 years to accumulate.
Numbers can’t lie.
These figures reveal how the Northern Song dynasty favored civil officials and treated military men harshly.
Some military officers exploited their rank to oppress frontline soldiers, feasting on their blood.
Zhao Ning nearly overturned the table in anger upon seeing these statistics.
They also confirmed another truth: although civil officials earned generous salaries, no honest official could have amassed as much as Xu Bingzhe.
Clearly, both Xu Bingzhe and Liu Chengqi were corrupt.
Damn it!
You’ve shattered my worldview, but now I know how to raise funds quickly!
The city housed 70,000 elite troops.
Today, each received three months’ pay.
With an average monthly salary of 600 coins, three months amounted to 1,800 coins, or 1.8 strings.
A total of 380,000 strings were disbursed.
The treasury initially held 500,000 strings, leaving 120,000 after payment.
Adding the 230,000 strings seized brought the total to 350,000 strings.
Though finances remained tight…
It felt great!
Confiscations were exhilarating!
Zhao Ning declared boldly, “Who else dares oppose me? Who else wishes to bring about their own doom? I am most skilled at compiling charges! Come forward, all of you!”