The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

The secret room in the backyard of the Chenzhou government office.

The flickering candlelight cast distorted and warped shadows of Chen Shimei and Prince Zhao Zongyuan onto the wall.

The warm smile on Chen Shimei's face had vanished completely, replaced by an icy chill. He slammed his official hat on the table: "Ouyang Xiu, that old scoundrel about to retire! Di Qing, a mere military man! Wang Zhonghua, that peasant who boils soup! Very well, very well indeed! Is His Majesty trying to seize power from me in Chenzhou?!"

Unlike him, Zhao Zongyuan didn't lose his composure. Instead, he waved his folding fan, his eyes gleaming with excitement and danger, like a hunter spotting a more challenging prey: "Your Excellency, please calm down for now. My father will handle everything. His Majesty's actions are intended to maintain balance, employing the bravery of Di and Wang, and also serving as a warning to you and me. However, this game... is becoming even more interesting."

He snapped his folding fan shut, leaned forward, and lowered his voice: "The obvious path is blocked, so let's try a different approach. Wang Zhonghua and his men want to suppress bandits, right? They want to train their troops, right? We'll help them 'suppress' them and assist them in 'training' them!"

"What does the young prince mean?"

"First, we'll 'help' him with intelligence," Zhao Zongyuan sneered. "We'll carefully embellish the information we 'know' about the bandits and send it to him continuously. Let him venture into the lion's den."

"Second, cut off his supplies." Chen Shimei immediately understood, his eyes turning sinister. "The new army needs money and supplies for training, rations, weapons, clothing... I want to see how much silver Di Qing and Wang Zhonghua can conjure up to fill this bottomless pit!"

"Third, using someone else to do the dirty work." Zhao Zongyuan's voice was like a venomous snake spitting its tongue. "The Zoroastrian Church should probably know how 'eager to make a name for themselves' this newly appointed General Wang is."

"And another thing," Chen Shimei added, his eyes gleaming, "those two girls with Wang Zhonghua, especially the one named Liu Xinyi, are exceptionally skilled and of unknown origin... Perhaps we can find some clues about their 'collusion with bandits.' If we can successfully frame them, we can not only cripple him but also ruin his reputation!"

The two exchanged a knowing smile, a smile laced with malice. Their open confrontation had already ended in defeat; the covert struggle was only just beginning.

Sanyi Village, Lü Sanjun's study.

Unlike the cold scheming of the government office, Lü Sanjun dismissed his attendants and stood alone by the window, gazing at the deep night outside. His fat face showed no worry, but rather glowed with excitement.

"Haha, incredible, truly incredible!" He rubbed his thick palms together, pacing around the room. "Young Master Wang... no, Wang Zhonghua! He's truly a hidden dragon emerging from the abyss, soaring to the heavens!"

He saw things with perfect clarity. From the moment Wang Zhonghua met the emperor, he knew this young man was no longer someone to be underestimated. Today's imperial edict further confirmed his judgment. Wang Zhonghua was now a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, a soaring dragon; he, Lü Sanjun, had to cling tightly to this powerful figure and maximize his gains!

"Someone come here!" He stopped abruptly, his voice booming.

Lu Fusheng, the trusted steward, entered in response.

"Pass on my orders: First, all fortification construction projects in Sanyi Village must proceed day and night at an accelerated pace! They must be built to be impregnable. From now on, this will be Wang Zhonghua's most solid logistical foundation and my Lü family's safest warehouse!"

"Secondly, take stock of all available cash and raise funds. The imperial court's allocation of funds for Wang's bandit suppression campaign may not be timely or sufficient; we must be prepared to 'repay' their kindness! This timely assistance is a thousand times better than adding to someone's already good fortune!"

"Third," Lü Sanjun walked to the huge map of the Song Dynasty, his chubby hand tracing the canal, his small eyes gleaming, "'From Nanjing to Tokyo, the Lü family has a smooth route!' It used to be my dream, but now... it's time to start planning! Taking advantage of Lord Di and Wang Zhonghua's victory in suppressing bandits and clearing the waterways, I will make the water transport in the Chenzhou section belong to the Lü family! No, in the future, the entire north-south canal transport will bear the banner of my Lü family!"

He could almost see countless ships laden with goods shuttling back and forth under his command, money flowing into his treasury like a river. While Wang Zhonghua was forging ahead, he, Lü Sanjun, was about to build a vast commercial empire in the rear, forming a complementary alliance to jointly control the world!

West of the city, Zhanghuatai Camp.

In the darkness, campfires flickered. The sound of watchtowers carried a hint of relaxation after a long period of peace.

Ouyang Xiu, Di Qing, Wang Zhonghua, and their entourage reined in their horses and stood outside the camp gate. The night wind blew, carrying the unique smell of dust, sweat, and rust that was characteristic of the camp.

Looking at the somewhat deserted camp before him, Di Qing said in a deep voice, "Nephew Zhonghua, General Wang, this is our new battlefield. The situation here is probably even more complicated than when facing the Zoroastrian bandits." He emphasized the word "complicated."

Wang Zhonghua took a deep breath, sensing the stagnation and hidden contradictions in the air. He jumped off his BMW "Treading Snow" and patted the simple yet subtly chilling sword hanging at his waist—this was Qin Tiehua's secret-forged "Singing Snow," which, though unable to cut a hair in two, far surpassed the divine weapons of this era.

"General Di," his voice rang out clearly in the night wind, "the road is made by walking. Let's start from this camp and turn it into a true den of dragons and tigers, making our enemies tremble with fear! Don't believe me? Let's try!"

Central military tent.

Inside the tent, the large tallow candles dispelled the chill. Besides Ouyang Xiu, Di Qing, Wang Zhonghua, and Du Ziteng, who had just arrived and stood in the shadows behind Wang Zhonghua with his sword drawn, several of Di Qing's core generals were also present. They were: Captain Zhang Biao, with a bushy beard and arrogant eyes; Deputy Captain Li Xin, with a calm expression and cautious gaze; and Military Advisor Zhou An, dressed as a scholar, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, lost in thought. These veterans of the army looked at the excessively young Wang Zhonghua with varying degrees of scrutiny and disapproval.

Ouyang Xiu put down the rough pottery teacup offered by his personal guard, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Wang Zhonghua. He then addressed Di Qing and the others first, his voice calm yet carrying weight: "General Di, esteemed generals. Before I left the capital, His Majesty summoned me to the Chui Gong Hall, speaking of state affairs with deep concern. Our Great Song appears prosperous on the surface, but in reality, it is not so: in the northwest, the Western Xia, though temporarily ceasing hostilities, have never forgotten their wolfish ambitions; in the northeast, the Northern Liao, outwardly submissive, are in fact preparing for war, their intentions unpredictable. Furthermore, there are bandits, the Grand Canal, and annexations in our heartland… we are beset by internal and external troubles."

"His Majesty is well aware of the deep-seated problems in the court and has been determined to reform them. Young friend Wang, General Di, do you know why His Majesty is so concerned about the affairs of Chenzhou, even to the point of breaking with convention?" Ouyang Xiu's voice lowered, carrying a sense of vicissitude as he recounted the past.

He paused briefly, as if carefully choosing his words: "During the Qingli era, Your Majesty overruled objections and appointed capable officials such as Fan Zhongyan (Fan Xiwen), Fu Bi (Fu Yanguo), and Han Qi (Han Zhigui), with a strong determination to reform. Your ambition was not small. However… there were too many constraints in the court; the conservative forces were deeply entrenched. That reform, in the end… alas, was like a fleeting moment, leaving us with a deep sense of regret."

His words were brief and to the point, without mentioning specific opponents or detailing the defeat, but a heavy sense of helplessness permeated the tent.

"His Majesty always harbors an unfulfilled ambition and a sense of guilt towards loyal and virtuous officials." Ouyang Xiu's gaze swept over Wang Zhonghua with a meaningful look, but quickly shifted away, as if it were merely a casual assessment. "Therefore, he always values ​​those local talents who truly understand the people's plight and are willing to take on responsibilities, and he is willing to give them opportunities. In His Majesty's eyes, the situation in Chenzhou is perhaps not only about suppressing bandits, but also... a testing ground for eliminating long-standing abuses."

"I hope you can understand the profound meaning of the Emperor's heart and not fail to live up to this expectation." Ouyang Xiu finished speaking, gently burying that turbulent past again, leaving only a few faint clues scattered in the air of the military camp, waiting to be connected by someone with a purpose at some point in the future.

As Wang Zhonghua listened, he felt the emperor's image had become even more complex. While the failure of the new policies was regrettable, he didn't connect it to his own situation. He only felt an increasing weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and replied in a deep voice, "I will remember Lord Ouyang's teachings. I will do my utmost to live up to His Majesty's grace."

Old Ouyang paused slightly, the tent so quiet you could hear a pin drop. "His Majesty once said, 'Our Great Song is like a giant ship sailing on hidden reefs; only through the unity of its people can it break through the waves and move forward.' The Chenzhou affair, though seemingly a localized issue, actually affects the entire situation. If the Zoroastrian bandits cannot be quelled quickly, the southeastern region, rich in resources, will be unstable; if the deep-seated problems in the military and government cannot be eradicated, the foundation of the dynasty will be shaken." He then turned his gaze entirely to Wang Zhonghua. "General Wang, your words at the banquet resonated with the Emperor; this is clearly no ordinary opinion. Now, all those present in this tent are pillars of the dynasty. I wish to hear your detailed explanation—this chronic disease of the Great Song, this great undertaking of bandit suppression, where do you think its root lies, and where does the path lead?"

He didn't ask the veterans first. This expectation and pressure made Zhang Biao and others change color slightly, and their eyes focused more on Wang Zhonghua.

Wang Zhonghua took a deep breath, knowing this wasn't a simple question and answer, but rather his "pledge of allegiance" to this army. He understood better than anyone else in his time: the founding emperor, with his extraordinary talent and unparalleled military prowess, had been forced to halt his advance with bitterness before the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun. That land became an indelible thorn in the heart of the founding emperor of the Song Dynasty, a wound that would never heal until his death.

However, instead of making up for Emperor Taizu's regrets, his descendants caused a catastrophe. Emperor Taizong was ambitious but incompetent, single-mindedly wanting to achieve unparalleled feats. He mobilized the entire nation's strength, leading an exhausted army of 100,000 to conquer Youzhou in the north. In that battle, blood flowed like rivers on the banks of the Gaoliang River, the Song army collapsed like a mountain, and Emperor Taizong was hit by two arrows in the thigh. He fled south in a donkey cart, and was later jokingly called the "God of the Gaoliang River Cart" in online literature.

Although this battle did not result in the loss of any major generals, it shattered the century-old spirit of the Song Dynasty. Emperor Taizong, unrepentant, launched the Yongxi Northern Expedition seven years later, advancing in three routes, determined to avenge the previous humiliation. Unexpectedly, outside Qigou Pass, Cao Bin's 100,000-strong eastern army was routed by Yelü Xiuge's iron cavalry; "more than half died, and the Sha River ceased to flow." At Chenjiagukou, the veteran general Yang Ye, isolated and without reinforcements, fought valiantly but was captured, and died after a three-day hunger strike. This entire family of loyal martyrs was destroyed by a single order to attack issued by the supervising officer Wang Shen.

Since then, the imperial court would turn pale at the mention of "Yanyun," military generals dared not speak of war, and the common people would be terrified at the mere mention of the Hu horses.

The Song Dynasty lost its soul and never recovered.