Chapter 5: The Bones of the Great Song Nobles Are Soft

At this moment, some people’s gazes subtly shifted.

Zhang Bofen suddenly shouted loudly, “Long live the Emperor!”

The crowd followed suit, cheering, “Long live the Emperor!”

Those in the distance cast their eyes over and, for reasons unknown, joined in the shouts.

Perhaps the toll of defending the city had been too great, their hearts too burdened.

Everyone needed a boost of morale, as much for themselves as for the cause.

In times of hardship, people require a spiritual pillar!

Soon, more and more voices rose in unison.

Zhao Ning had not expected these words to ignite such fervor.

Indeed, the people of the Great Song Dynasty were truly endearing.

Historically, when the outer city of Dongjing fell, countless citizens spontaneously organized resistance against the Jin invaders.

The people even gathered to kill the envoy sent by Emperor Qinzong of Song to negotiate peace, and the very next day, three hundred thousand lined up to receive weapons.

Historical records state: “When the Jin soldiers sought to set fire and slaughter the city, the residents wished to engage in alley warfare, their numbers came like clouds.”

Three hundred thousand—imagine standing atop the city walls, seeing a sea of people flooding through every street and alley.

Facing the dreaded Jin army, feared like tigers by the court officials who surrendered first, the common folk instead rose up in defiance!

Even teenage boys, some as young as ten, knew to resist.

At this very moment, the people of Hebei and Hedong were also vowing to fight the Jin troops to the death.

Put simply: the people of the Great Song Dynasty were fighting desperately, while the high officials and emperor in the court knelt and surrendered.

Truly, the bones of the powerful were soft.

The people thought: This emperor and his officials are too weak; they cannot lead us!

Zhao Ning thought: If they cannot lead, then I will!

Looking around, the cheers came from nearby, further away, and even distant places, rolling like waves—one wave after another.

The city of Dongjing had been suppressed for too long.

The court vacillated between war and peace, mostly favoring peace, sending envoys several times for negotiations.

But the Jin had no intention of peace.

The common people were all bitterly angry at the court’s weakness!

The voices from the city walls of Dongjing reached even the Jin soldiers outside the city; many cast their gaze upward toward the city tower.

From the commander’s camp, Wanyan Zongwang stepped out, accompanied by Wanyan Shamuer, Wanyan Chang, Liu Yanzong, and others.

They all looked toward the city tower ahead.

Liu Yanzong said, “Your Highness, judging by the scene, it’s the Song emperor on the city tower.”

Wanyan Zongwang smiled and said, “Even if the Song emperor himself stands on the city tower, even if the Song army and people resist, what of it? The weakness of Song lies not with the people but with the royal family — a foolish ruler and incompetent ministers who treat their soldiers like grass. How can such a court win battles?”

“Your Highness is wise.”

Wanyan Zongwang, the Jin’s second prince, second son of Wanyan Aguda, founder of Jin, was the most capable Jurchen commander—masterful in both tactics and strategy.

However, he was a proponent of peace; he opposed the destruction of Song, preferring to exhaust and weaken Song so that tribute could be obtained annually.

Others said nothing; at this siege stage, the highest commander of Jin forces was not Wanyan Zongwang but Wanyan Huyan.

Wanyan Huyan was a staunch hardliner, a destroy-Song faction member.

Zhao Ning tidied himself and returned to the palace.

He knew the situation was difficult.

Simply shouting slogans atop the city walls would not solve anything.

This great battle could not be ended with mere fervor.

Yet, historically, Dongjing City, which was on the verge of falling today, did not fall—indicating a subtle shift in the course of history.

Now was the time to change his own fate; he must never be captured and taken north by the Jin.

Upon returning, it was already evening, the sky darkening, and the snow falling heavier.

He first took a hot bath to avoid catching a cold—after all, health is the foundation of revolution.

Alas, no soap—how uncomfortable!

No shampoo either!

Looking at the coarse bristle toothbrush, meant for royal use yet inferior to the ordinary brushes of the 21st century...

Never mind, this was no time to fuss over such things.

After bathing, he left the bathhouse, returned to the Palace of Tranquility, changed into common clothes, and prepared to summon Zhang Shuye at the Hall of Culture to discuss the city’s defense.

Zhao Ning couldn’t help but sigh at how rich and colorful his life in the 21st century had been.

Only yesterday he had met a beautiful girl, added her on WeChat, and they were chatting happily—then suddenly, he was dead.

Thinking of losing the chance with such a lovely girl, he felt a deep regret; his future life seemed destined to be dull and flavorless.

What a cruel twist!

At that moment, Empress Zhu Lian, wife of Zhao Huan, suddenly arrived at the Palace of Tranquility.

“Your Majesty.”

A gentle voice came; Zhao Ning turned to see a delicate young woman approaching.

Zhu Lian was a classic beauty, her skin white and silky smooth like fine silk.

Her face was not the typical pointed oval but a comfortable, graceful egg shape.

A small, refined nose and a pair of willow-leaf eyebrows melded softly together.

Especially her almond-shaped eyes, clear as autumn waters, giving a gentle, serene impression.

At the same time, she exuded a dignified and elegant aura.

Zhao Ning immediately thought of the Queen of the Daughter Kingdom from Wu Cheng’en’s writings.

He was momentarily stunned, feeling as though a white moonlight had appeared before him.

Zhao Ning thought: What? I just met a girl yesterday and added her on WeChat? Why don’t I remember this?

Men’s affections are simple: they always like beautiful women.

“Lady Zhu, what brings you here?”

Song dynasty men typically called their wives “Lady,” and even emperors were no exception—for instance, historically, Zhao Gou called his beloved consorts “Lady Liu the Elder” and “Lady Liu the Younger.”

Zhu Lian looked a little anxious but concerned, asking, “Your Majesty, I heard you left the palace hurriedly today and went to the city gate.”

“Yes,” Zhao Ning sighed, tugging at his collar. The clothing of Song emperors was relatively simple and soft in texture.

But compared to later eras, it was still cumbersome; he was not yet accustomed to it.

“The soldiers defending the city must be exhausted; I went to offer my condolences.”

“I worry Your Majesty might catch a cold. You should prioritize the state and realm,” Zhu Lian said, holding a jade tray bearing a ceramic pot. “I have prepared some ginseng soup for Your Majesty. Please drink some while it’s warm.”

Looking at this gentle, considerate woman, Zhao Ning felt a pang of tenderness. He took the pot and gently placed it on the table.

“I understand. I will be more careful in the future.” Zhao Ning pulled Zhu Lian gently into his arms. He could feel her slight trembling, sensing her nervousness and anxiety.

Everyone in Dongjing was anxious now; Zhao Ning understood her feelings.

In fact, historically, Zhu Lian met a tragic fate—captured and taken north, she refused to submit and took her own life.

Zhao Ning silently vowed that the Jin must not breach the city.

“You should return now. I have summoned Zhang Shuye to discuss urgent matters.”

“Your Majesty, please drink the hot soup before you go.”

“All right.” Zhao Ning lifted the lid and took a few sips.

Song cuisine was already quite refined; the soup was carefully prepared.

Perhaps the tension had drained him; he drank quickly and felt strength returning to his body.

“You should go back first; I will come to keep you company later.”

“I shall take my leave now.”

Zhao Ning strode toward the Hall of Culture.

Zhang Shuye was already waiting.

“Your Majesty.”

“Come inside and speak.”

Zhang Shuye followed Zhao Ning in.

Outside the city, one hundred fifty thousand Jin troops waited, and inside the city, over a million people were anxious!

Was there a plan to repel the enemy?

Yes!

At least, Zhao Ning already had a plan in his heart.