Chapter 107
Chapter 107
[Li Erfeng Becomes Wanyan Gou – 27]
The campaign against Western Xia proceeded with remarkable ease.
Western Xia was a small state whose strength could not compare with Great Song’s. Its emperor might possess a fine reputation and had even borrowed Great Tang’s glory by using *Zhenguan* as an era name, but when the imitation met the genuine Heavenly Khan Li Shimin, it was like the counterfeit Li Gui meeting the real Li Kui. How could he resist?
Moreover, Yue Fei and his fellows were renowned generals of their age. Given an enlightened sovereign and free rein to display their gifts, they were beyond anything Western Xia’s commanders could oppose.
The Song army marched in the third month. Under Yue Fei, they won battle after battle with irresistible force, killed nine thousand enemies, and captured countless cattle and horses. By late in the fourth month, the front had reached Western Xia’s capital, Xingqing Prefecture.
Western Xia had heard that Song was rising and had repeatedly defeated Jin, but without experiencing it themselves, the reports felt unreal.
Was Song truly so powerful?
Was its emperor truly that mighty?
This was the Great Cowardly Song, and that emperor inherited the blood of Qinzong and Huizong!
Now they had their answer.
Yes, Song was exactly that powerful.
Its emperor was exactly that mighty.
Only one problem remained: when would the Song army withdraw to Dongjing (Kaifeng)?
Waiting online. Extremely urgent!
Li Qianshun sat woodenly on his throne all night, shadows beneath his eyes and his gaze like a dried well. Civil and military officials argued fiercely below.
Some advocated submission to Song with gifts of gold and silver. Some favored defending the city until Jin came to help. Others watched their emperor darkly, calculating whether opening the gates might win them good positions under a new dynasty. Every man had his own design.
Li Qianshun had taken neither food nor water for a day and night. His lips were cracked. He lifted his head and looked around bitterly.
Submit to Song?
When Qinzong and Huizong suffered, he had repeatedly kicked them while they were down and divided Song territory with Jin. If he submitted now, his ministers might survive. But what of him and the Western Xia royal clan?
Waiting for Jin was even less possible.
Song had recovered Shanxi the previous year, leaving only a sliver of border between Western Xia and Jin. Crossing the desert for aid would be immensely difficult.
And Jin had split in two. Which half should he ask?
Even if an envoy reached them, the Jin could barely save themselves and had ceded territory to Song for peace. Why bankrupt themselves to help him?
The longer he delayed, the angrier Song became. When the city fell, not only the royal clan but every resident might die.
In despair, Li Qianshun remembered mocking the two emperors during Jingkang. Was he not now exactly like them, besieged in Dongjing?
After a long silence, he spoke hoarsely. “Send someone out to surrender. Western Xia will become Song’s vassal and offer gold, silver, and horses, asking only that our state and the Li royal line be preserved.”
An attendant soon delivered the letter to Yue Fei.
The matter was too grave for Yue Fei to decide. He sent a rider toward His Majesty, who had not yet arrived outside Xingqing.
Halfway, the messenger encountered Imperial Guards carrying a handwritten edict to Yue Fei. They returned together and presented it.
The edict was brief. Surrender could be accepted only if Western Xia’s state ended. Li Qianshun must bare his torso, bind himself, carry jade in his mouth, and lead a sheep; Western Xia must also surrender all soldiers and civilians who had raided Song’s border.
Li Shimin had no intention of preserving Western Xia. If one punch could kill it, why leave it jumping around to disgust him?
And if he meant to open the Western Regions, he had to pass through Western Xia. Why allow this route to remain under its control, forcing Song travelers to risk ambush?
Yue Fei obeyed. After bowing toward Dongjing (Kaifeng), he asked the guard, “Any other command? When will His Majesty come?”
The guard avoided his gaze and spoke evasively.
Yue Fei’s first thought was that the man was suspicious, but he had arrived with more than ten guards, and the handwriting was unquestionably His Majesty’s.
If the guard was innocent, then His Majesty was guilty.
Yue Fei’s brows drew together. After several moments, his face changed. “His Majesty hasn’t gone to attack Jin, has he?”
The guard: “…”
He looked at Yue Fei with perfect innocence.
Yue Fei: “…”
Another day of being driven to death by his war-faction emperor!
Yue Fei sent the terms back and arranged the Song army beneath the city walls.
Li Qianshun read them in silence while his ministers exchanged knowing glances.
He was no fool. With no possibility of reversing the collapse, he gave a bitter laugh and let his sleeve fall. “Open the gates. Surrender to Song.”
Liao had fallen only five years earlier. Then, he had felt a mountain lift from his head. Jingkang was only two years past. He had thought that if Jin, once a tiny force in the northeast, could achieve so much, Western Xia could too.
Now…
Forget it. Better lie flat and concede defeat. Thinking only made him sadder.
With Li Shimin already marching against Jin, Yue Fei presided over the surrender. Xingqing’s gates opened. Li Qianshun emerged bare-shouldered and bound, jade in his mouth and a sheep in hand, followed by his court. Farther back, Western Xia soldiers escorted the commanders who had raided Song.
Western Xia originated under Tang and rose during the Five Dynasties. Li Yuanhao formally founded it during Emperor Renzong’s reign, and thereafter it repeatedly caused trouble on Song’s borders. Yue Fei had expected its removal to require generations, not proceed so smoothly.
Half exhilarated and half moved, he sealed the Western Xia imperial seals, took its rulers and ministers into custody, entered the city, secured vital roads, inventoried the treasury, and strictly forbade Song troops from disturbing civilians.
By the time Li Qianshun surrendered, Li Shimin was already attacking Zongbi.
Jin had been weakened by the previous year’s wars. Unity might have saved it, but repeated Wanyan divisions had produced eastern and western states. How could it resist Li Shimin’s elite troops and generals?
Li Shimin marched north in late April and took city after city in early May. Song forces from Shenzhou cooperated, and Zongbi’s commanders discarded armor and fled north in disorder.
Li Shimin pursued like a lion that had seized its prey and refused to release its jaws. His blade pointed at Zongbi’s Longzhou. He also ordered Zongpan to attack from the other side and destroy Western Jin.
Meanwhile, Zongbi’s subordinates urged him to seek alliance with Zongpan against Song.
Zongbi sneered. “If Zongpan hadn’t ceded everything south of Shenzhou, would I be this desperate? We should thank Heaven if he doesn’t fish in troubled waters. Expect him to unite with me?”
He sent no envoy.
Zongpan received Li Shimin’s letter and verbally agreed. His troops patrolled the border for days, fighting minor skirmishes but never committing a large force.
Zongpan hated Zongbi, but did not want him destroyed too quickly. Without Western Jin, Song would surround Eastern Jin from west and south, while the east faced the sea-a disastrous position.
When spies reported this, Li Shimin laughed rather than growing angry.
A confidant asked, “Your Majesty isn’t angry?”
“Why? I knew from the beginning he wouldn’t help. I sent the letter so I could punish him for it after defeating Zongbi.”
The confidant: “…”
He silently burned three sticks of incense for Zongpan, then shouted inwardly: His Majesty is awesome!
At the end of May, Song captured Longzhou. Li Shimin led the assault. Zongbi fled but was captured and bound, destined for a parade through Song and sacrifice at the imperial temple.
Li Shimin then sent three harsh letters condemning Zongpan for disregarding the proper hierarchy and slighting the Son of Heaven of his suzerain state, and accusing him of failing to restrain Jin subjects from speaking against Song. He marched east, vowing to destroy Jin.
News of Longzhou’s fall and Zongbi’s capture reached the Supreme Capital. Zongpan panicked at the three letters, each harsher than the last.
He ordered resistance while sending an envoy confessing his errors and offering land, gold, and silver for mercy.
Li Shimin ignored him.
Why take two bites of meat he could swallow in one?
Zongpan lost ten jin in three days. Desperate, he gathered gifted writers and spent half a day composing a surrender memorial.
Li Shimin opened it, raised a brow, and smiled.
“This subject Zongpan submits: laying down arms and resting the people is the great virtue of emperors…”
“Having received grace and permission to serve as a vassal, my descendants shall preserve a subject’s loyalty. Envoys shall offer congratulations on the emperor’s birthday and New Year’s Day. Annual tribute shall be two hundred fifty thousand taels of silver and two hundred fifty thousand bolts of silk, beginning this year and delivered each spring to Dongjing…”
“Henceforth, fugitives of the superior state shall never be sheltered, nor one inch of soil or one commoner violated… If this covenant is broken, may the gods strike us, our mandate fall, our clan perish, and our state collapse. This subject has submitted his sworn memorial and begs the superior state swiftly issue its oath, that our humble city may forever rely upon it.”
Li Shimin: “Tsk, tsk.”
The emperors: “Tsk, tsk.”
Through his own strength, he had transformed “This subject Gou submits” into “This subject Zongpan submits.” How extraordinary!
For the Heavenly Khan, however, it was routine.
The memorial was humble beyond measure, its demands for territory and sovereignty lower than dust. Moved to tears, Li Shimin ordered the army to halt.
A minister protested that the Supreme Capital, Zongpan, and the Wanyan clan were within reach. How could momentary kindness release a tiger?
Witnesses said His Majesty sighed repeatedly. “Zongpan has humbled himself and long been Song’s subject. I cannot bear to break his city and kill him.”
Despite repeated pleas, he refused.
The disciplined Song army obeyed. Unexpectedly, Liao auxiliaries deceived their Song companions and entered the Supreme Capital at night to avenge their destroyed state and humiliated ruler.
That night, weeping shook the Supreme Capital and carried for miles. Flames consumed countless homes and glowed within the imperial palace.
Li Shimin had grown tired reading memorials from Dongjing. He stepped outside the command tent and saw distant firelight. Faint cries traveled on the wind. “What’s happening over there?”
An Imperial Guard looked. “Probably a forest fire. It’s burning fiercely.”
“Indeed. We must tell the soldiers not to carry sparks into the hills. Too dangerous.”
“Your Majesty is right.”
After watching awhile, Li Shimin heard something wrong. “Why are people crying?”
A general replied, “Probably a funeral procession.”
“In the middle of the night?”
The general answered righteously, “A rather stupid family is holding a funeral!”
Li Shimin sighed, shook his head, and returned inside.
According to the *History of Song*, the fire burned three days. Emperor Shizu Wen was in the north when he heard Liao rebels had entered the city. Shocked, he ordered Song troops to help, but it was too late.
Large districts collapsed in fire. Countless people died. From emperor and clan to consorts, all were humiliated. Hating Jin for destroying Liao, the rebels excavated imperial tombs and temples and scattered former emperors’ bones.
When Li Shimin entered, ruins filled the city. Burned houses had collapsed, exposed walls were licked black, and blood stained the ground.
Looking compassionate, he asked captured Liao men, “Did you kill Zongpan?”
“We intended to take him to our old capital and sacrifice his head to Liao’s ancestors. We did not kill him.”
Li Shimin nodded. “Did you seal the treasury?”
“We planned to carry the wealth home and seek restoration, so we gathered and sealed it before burning the palace.”
Li Shimin sighed and rode around the ruined city. Wanyan clansmen bore signs of brutal torment; women huddled in disordered clothes and wept. He grew angry. “These Liao have lost their minds! How could they do this?”
Attendants nodded. Some covered their mouths lest laughter escape at the vengeance for Jingkang.
A confidant asked, “They also excavated the tombs and damaged two emperors’ remains. We gathered the bones. What shall be done? Wanyan Aguda, who destroyed Liao, was damaged worst.”
Li Shimin sighed. “Collect and bury them.”
The man nodded. “And Wanyan Sheng?”
Li Shimin looked back. Zongpan sat filthy and numb beside weeping consorts and children. He sighed pityingly. “Jin is gone, and he has no family here. Burn Wanyan Sheng, put him in a jar, sacrifice him at our imperial temple, then bury him in the tomb of the two emperors.”
Wiping tears, he said, “They knew each other. Let them keep company.”
The confidant was moved. “Your Majesty is benevolent, a sage ruler!”
“Don’t praise me so. I cannot bear it.” Li Shimin choked up. “Go quickly.”
…
Since His Majesty personally marched, Li Gang, Zong Ze, and the old ministers in Dongjing had eaten and slept poorly. They feared their radical war hawk would die, leaving a young ruler and suspicious state to fall into the mud again.
Zhu Shengfei eventually advised, “Trust His Majesty. With his gifts, how could anything happen?”
Li Gang said, “Even a great ship can overturn in a gutter.”
Zong Ze began, “The skilled swimmer drowns, the skilled warrior…”
Feeling the words ominous, he swallowed them. After a sleepless night, he rose, took paper and brush, and earnestly urged His Majesty to return.
One letter every day went to the front.
Li Gang knew their iron-headed emperor and understood Marshal Zong’s effort was useless, but still hoped for a miracle.
One afternoon, Zong Ze received a front-line letter. His face changed, and he sprang up.
Li Gang asked, “Has the battle turned badly?”
Zong Ze’s hands and voice shook. “His Majesty… His Majesty…”
Cold shot from Li Gang’s feet to his skull. “What happened to His Majesty?!”
“He went to attack Jin!”
Li Gang panicked, then sighed. “Did he finally hit the southern wall? Has he agreed to yield?”
“No!” Zong Ze still trembled, but his voice soared. “His Majesty destroyed Jin!”