Chapter 60 Emperor Zhao's Strategic Deployment
Zhang Jun is not Zhang Jun.
Zhang Jun was one of the generals of the Southern Song Dynasty's revival, who achieved his position by fawning over Zhao Gou.
Objectively speaking, Zhang Jun does not deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as Yue Fei by any stretch of the imagination.
However, Zhang Jun was entirely different.
Out of the four great generals of the Southern Song Dynasty's revival, three were trained by him.
Wherein lay this man's true brilliance?
First of all, he was the leader of the anti-Jin faction in the Southern Song Dynasty.
Secondly, his personal military record was certainly not as impressive as Yue Fei's.
Furthermore, he had suffered several famous and crushing defeats.
That is correct, he had suffered several famous and crushing defeats.
Among them, the Battle of Fuping in Shaanxi was the most renowned.
At the Battle of Fuping, the Song army of three hundred thousand... collapsed!
Indeed, under the leadership of Zhang Jun, a Song army of three hundred thousand disintegrated!
Yet immediately after this collapse, Zhang Jun returned to be entrusted with major responsibilities!
Does this historical record sound entirely contrary to common sense?
An ordinary commoner, upon learning of Zhang Jun's defeat, would undoubtedly curse him.
However, Zhao Ning was now the Emperor. Standing at the very apex to formulate national strategy, he had to possess a macro perspective.
Zhang Jun was a figure intimately tied to Zhao Ning's defensive strategic deployment going forward, and an absolutely indispensable one at that.
The Battle of Fuping had drawn the main force of the Jin army, greatly alleviating the critical situation in the southeast of the Southern Song.
It was a defeat in tactical terms, but a victory in strategic terms.
Zhang Jun himself was a man of bold and resolute action, possessed of a strong sense of responsibility and daring.
Knowing full well that Shaanxi would likely fall, he had resolutely forced an army of three hundred thousand to engage the Jin forces.
You must understand that when all generals are eager to fight to the death, a commander's job is exceptionally easy.
When none of the generals are willing to fight, a commander faces a severe headache; persuading them to enter battle is in itself an immensely difficult task.
Moreover, to press forward despite knowing certain defeat—what kind of fortitude was that?
An ordinary person would have shifted the blame and run away in a heartbeat.
Therefore, Zhang Jun could be entrusted with heavy responsibilities.
What?
I am absolute not looking for a scapegoat, do not spread such nonsense!
Of course, the men dispatched to summon Zhang Jun were already on their way.
At present, however, there was another, far more critical matter that needed to be placed on the agenda immediately.
What matter?
Recapturing the three strongholds of Taiyuan, Hejian, and Zhongshan?
No, no, no. Given the current strength of the Great Song Dynasty, they could not be retaken.
If the Jin army could simply withdraw, that in itself was already a favorable outcome.
Researching firearms and artillery?
Utter nonsense!
During the Xining era, the total annual output of cast iron in the Great Song Dynasty was around 100,000 to 150,000 tons, roughly equivalent to 200 million to 300 million catties.
Meanwhile, iron coins—the universal currency of the Great Song—weighed about thirty catties per string. Ten million strings amounted to 300 million catties of iron.
And that was merely for finished iron currency, not even accounting for the consumption during manufacturing.
Not to mention the iron armor worn by the Song infantry, each set of which weighed over sixty catties.
Then there were agricultural tools needed for farming; all of these required iron.
During the Xining reign, the cultivated land area of the Great Song had already reached 700 million mu. With so much farmland, the demand for agricultural implements was naturally even greater.
Coupled with a flourishing commerce, weights for scales, and transport tools, everything demanded iron.
An annual output of 200 million catties might seem like a lot, but given the population base and the relentless consumption of iron, the numbers told a different story.
Before the Jingkang Incident, the Northern Song household registers recorded 13.6 million households. With an average of five people per household, that was nearly 70 million people.
Add to that the many hidden populations concealed to evade taxes and levies, and the total was around 90 million, close to 100 million people.
Furthermore, firearms and artillery could not be manufactured merely by speaking a word.
Even if Zhao Ning were a genius capable of building a prototype, it would be impossible to equip the entire army with them overnight.
Mass production of firearms and artillery relied on national production capacity, and national production capacity required an industrialized system to drive it.
From iron smelting, logistics and transport, component standardization, mold manufacturing, gunpowder ratios, to craft polishing—such a production line was immensely complex and required the participation of countless individuals.
This was not a video game! This was not a video game! This was not a video game!
Does this mean firearms should not be researched at present?
Not at all. The technology tree must be unlocked first, but it was not the most urgent priority.
What should be done next, then?
Establish defenses!
The top priority right now was defense construction!
Once national defense was secure, many internal affairs could be gradually addressed.
Therefore, a strategic depth had to be rapidly established north of the Yellow River to cope with the next southward invasion of the Jin army.
Zhao Ning had already selected his candidate for the Commissioner of Hebei Pacification.
Zong Ze!
It could be none other than Zong Ze!
Ordinary people looked one step or two steps ahead.
As a strategist, however, every single step required looking five steps ahead.
Not only had Zong Ze been designated as the Commissioner of Hebei Pacification, but the military and political system also required reform.
How should the military and political system be reformed?
Not drastically. Drastic reform was courting death.
The Bureau of Military Affairs must remain untouched; the original military and political framework must not be altered.
The Bureau of Military Affairs touched upon military affairs across the entire nation, and the web of connections involved was beyond what ordinary people could imagine.
Just consider the process of bureaucratic stamping: if it were to be reformed, the seals would have to be changed, but would the entire workflow also have to change?
The Jin army might arrive by the end of this year.
If reforms were initiated now, just as the changes were getting underway, the Jin army would arrive, and if the military and political apparatus malfunctioned at that moment...
Would I not be forced to move into a five-star thatched hut in the north?
What was to be done then?
With the officials in the Bureau of Military Affairs being idle and inefficient, and potentially riddled with corrupt officials, could things proceed without reform?
They could not go without reform, but not right now.
There was a way forward at present.
A separate, comprehensive government office should be established to handle military affairs along the defensive line north of the Yellow River, operating independently of the Bureau of Military Affairs and barring those bureaucrats from sticking their hands into it.
Securing the defensive line north of the capital was the utmost priority.
This comprehensive office would be named the Military and Political Ministry, headed by Zhang Shuye, who would be transferred out of the Bureau of Military Affairs. Zong Ze would be dispatched to the frontline as the Pacification Commissioner to oversee the overall situation on the frontline.
Chen Gui would be assigned to assist Zong Ze in constructing fortress defenses.
As it happened, Chen Gui was a military technology expert skilled in troop deployment and defensive engineering.
Then let him carve out a strategic depth of several hundred li across Hebei for me!
Capable officials like Zhao Ding would remain in the Hall of Government Affairs, promoted to prime ministers to manage domestic administration.
As for young generals and those with immense potential, most could be thrown onto the Hebei defense line—this would be the new army, the cradle of future military talent.
As for the so-called military academies, the Great Song Dynasty already had them.
Institutions like the Song Dynasty's Wujing Lecture Halls existed; their procedures could merely be standardized further.
These were matters of detail.
What, then, was the Emperor to do?
Gather wealth!
Recruit talent!
And then maintain control over the grand strategy and overarching direction.
The objective at this stage was to construct the defensive line, draw the war of attrition into a protracted conflict, and relegate everything else to secondary importance.
At that moment, Zhao Ning laid out the Hebei strategy to the assembled officials, explaining his vision for the Military and Political Ministry.
He then outlined Zhang Shuye's future assignment, followed by the appointment for Chen Gui.
As they listened, the officials were momentarily stunned.
The sheer volume of information was simply too vast, and they needed time to properly digest it.
Zhao Ding's mind, however, was spinning at lightning speed. His gaze fixed upon the map pointed to by the Emperor.
From the northern bank of the Yellow River, stretching west and upwards, lay the prefectures of Shaanxi; stretching east lay Lianghuai, and further north lay the lands of Shandong.
If he guessed correctly, His Majesty intended to construct a large-scale arc-shaped strategic defense line across this entire region!