Chapter 56: Greetings, My Prophecy Has Returned Once More
Wanyan Zonghan would never utter that sentence. He would never admit to Zhao Ning’s article. To admit it would be to concede that the Jin dynasty could not destroy the Song dynasty. This was not a matter of pride; it was a political issue, tied to his personal interests. He was a proponent of conquering the Song, while the core argument of that article was precisely that the Jin could not achieve this. The article would inevitably provide the peace faction within the court with ammunition to bolster their stance, posing a political threat to Zonghan and his hardline war party.
In truth, Zhao Ning had several aims in writing "On the Early Stage of the Song-Jin War": First, if the situation developed as described, the peace advocates in the Jin court would have evidence to support their views, enabling them to politically attack the war faction. Second, strategically, it sought to unite the fragmented Song dynasty. Facing an immense threat of national collapse, every faction had its own agenda. Since the founding of the Song, the policy of division and mutual restraint had persisted to a shocking degree.
How did General Zhong Shizhong perish? He planned to rendezvous with Yao Gu as scheduled, but Yao Gu failed to appear, leaving Zhong’s forces isolated and annihilated by the Jin army. Yao Gu’s Yao family troops were also wiped out. Li Gang, who successfully defended Dongjing in the early first year of Jingkang, was ousted and reassigned to Hebei and Hedong, yet no troops obeyed his command; everyone acted independently. Meanwhile, Zongze sought to gather a massive army along the Yellow River to intimidate the Jin, but the various forces all gravitated toward Zhao Gou. This was the norm in the Song dynasty.
The article could serve as a broad strategic guide to avoid unnecessary debates over tactics later. Of course, Zhao Ning did not expect a single article to unify hearts and minds—that was impossible. To make the Song strong again, sweeping reforms marked by great sacrifice were necessary.
Wanyan Zonghan would not say it, and naturally, neither would Shi Li’ai. At present, the mainstream in the Jin court was to destroy the Song, and Wanyan Gao, the second most powerful figure, was a staunch advocate of conquest. Only through destroying the Song could these men gain continual merit and rewards, strengthening their power in court.
At this time, Zongze was by no means avoiding battle; rather, he employed a strategy of retreat to advance. He would occasionally launch attacks against the Jin’s weaker points but avoided direct confrontation with Wanyan Wushu’s elite cavalry. When Wushu sent out small cavalry units to scout, Zongze would seek to annihilate them swiftly. His victories were not due to mere bravery; he had his own methods.
Lacking cavalry, Zongze analyzed previous battles where Song forces often collapsed under cavalry charges. In the age of cold weapons, formations were crucial; once an army broke, it lost all combat effectiveness. Imagine being one soldier amid 8,000 fleeing men, surrounded and running, where slowing down could mean being trampled. Trying to command an advance in such chaos was futile; individual voices were drowned out by the cacophony. At such times, a single person was but a leaf on a stormy sea. This was why the Battle of Fei River was lost—because the army collapsed.
War was not a mathematical equation or a game where more numbers guaranteed victory. To block enemy cavalry, one must have strategy. Zongze created many war chariots to counter the cavalry. Each chariot was operated by one driver, pushed by eight men, with two holding the wheels, three managing shields, twenty wielding long spears, and eighteen archers with powerful bows shooting from a distance. Altogether, fifty-five men manned a single chariot. Every ten chariots were led by a senior envoy, forming a unit that could advance in formation or camp, specifically to repel cavalry attacks. Without heavy infantry, this tactic was far more effective. This was one reason Zongze won battles: courage coupled with wisdom.
By mid-March, Zhao Ning had relaxed somewhat. Dongjing had been relatively quiet over the past two months, with sufficient food supplies and no renewed Jin sieges. Occasionally, Zhao Ning went out for walks, but most of his time was consumed within the palace, immersed in the “primitive production of penicillin.” Unsurprisingly, he was inexperienced; after two months, all attempts had failed. Yet he persevered, refining the process and meticulously recording every step.
Moreover, he was perfecting numerous strategic plans, including reforms in finance, monopolies, bureaucracy, transportation, personnel management, and most importantly, the military. This included defense strategies for the period after the Jin troops withdrew. Many plans were already laid out; once the Jin retreated, Zhao Ning would immediately begin recruiting talent and assume office.
Of course, reform was not a matter of mere words or blind imitation. It had to be tailored to the specific realities. At certain stages, many systems could not be rashly altered or abruptly overhauled. This was why, during the first few months after his transmigration, Zhao Ning refrained from making changes to the Song dynasty. Reform now would be futile because Dongjing was isolated from the outside world, and many government offices were paralyzed. After Wang Shiyong was executed, Zhao Ning promoted Cheng Zhen from assistant minister to minister of personnel, but these were trivial matters under the circumstances.
He had already compiled comprehensive lists of talented individuals from the late Northern and early Southern Song periods. On the first day of the fourth lunar month, Zhao Ding reported: “Your Majesty, food supplies in the city are running low. A few days ago, there was a case of food theft from homes, and such incidents have been increasing.” He continued, “Even the large landowners’ grain reserves are dwindling. Some in the garrison have proposed launching an attack against the Jin outside the city.”
Such thoughts were natural; with food supplies nearly exhausted, many desired a decisive battle. “Are there many who think so?” Zhao Ning asked. “Not few, and even among the common people there is worry,” Zhao Ding hesitated before adding, “I fear that at such a moment, those with ill intentions may incite trouble.”
“I understand. You need not worry; I will handle this. I will announce in the Dongjing Daily that the Jin will withdraw within this month,” Zhao Ning replied calmly.
Zhao Ding was momentarily stunned. “Your Majesty, if the Jin do not withdraw, your authority will suffer greatly. The prestige you have painstakingly built will be damaged...” “The Jin will definitely retreat. Rest assured,” Zhao Ning said with composed confidence.
On the second day of the fourth lunar month, the Dongjing Daily’s headline announced this news. Rumors spread rapidly throughout the city that the Jin army would depart within a month. Most citizens chose to believe it, for after these months, Zhao Ning’s reputation in Dongjing had soared to unprecedented heights. The article instantly calmed the populace.
Some believed, but certainly many did not. For example, Zhao Kai hid at home, snickering beneath his quilt at the newspaper’s claims. Zhao Kai thought: If the Jin don’t retreat, just wait and see how you fall from power!
Likewise, many officials shared similar sentiments. Some whispered: Tyrant! You brought this ruin upon yourself! If the Jin do not withdraw and the city runs out of food, with everyone enraged, how will you explain yourself then?