The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

When Mu Guiying received the imperial decree, she was still wearing her black iron armor, her shoulder armor covered in dust, her waist straight, and her eyes sharp as frost. She had no trace of the gentle demeanor of a lady, only the decisive and ruthless edge of a general in the central army.

Upon receiving the decree, she immediately issued a ruthless military order: seal off the main force camps in the capital region, impose a complete lockdown, and sever all communication with the outside world. Soldiers were forbidden from leaving the camps, letters were forbidden from being circulated, and relatives and friends were forbidden from visiting. Spy agents in the city, eyes and ears in the court, and spies from Liao and Xia were all kept out. The actual training situation in the camps was to be kept strictly confidential.

This secret training was the first extreme tempering of the newly reorganized Song Dynasty army. It was a sharpening of the sword by the crown prince hidden beneath the prosperity of the era, all for the purpose of military parade, intimidating the Liao enemy, and paving the way for the future Northern Expedition to recover Yan and Yun.

The old Song Dynasty imperial guards were historically known for their sluggishness, lax discipline, disorganized formations, and fear of battle—the root of a century of weakness. Mu Guiying completely abandoned the outdated and redundant systems, strictly adhering to the new military regulations established by Zhao Zongshi. She broke with the old and established the new, rigorously disciplined the army, trained them to battlefield standards, and demanded rigorous discipline in battle.

In the dead of night, with stars and moon hanging in the sky, the entire military camp's drill ground was ablaze with torchlight, illuminating the darkness. Thousands of elite armored soldiers from the capital stood in formation, each man standing as firm as a mountain, his breath restrained, utterly silent, even his breathing was perfectly synchronized, a far cry from his usual playful and carefree demeanor. An atmosphere of grim determination filled the air, silencing even the wind in the open field.

Mu Guiying stood atop the high platform, her silver armor gleaming in the starlight, a long whip in her hand. Her gaze swept over the thousands of soldiers in their armored uniforms, and her clear, resounding voice echoed throughout the entire camp: "The new policies raise soldiers to protect the country and its people, not to collect pay and slack off! Today we sweat and train hard, tomorrow we'll fight to the death on the battlefield! When the autumn examination results are announced, all nations will come to pay tribute. The might of the Song Dynasty's army will not yield an inch of land, nor will it suffer the slightest humiliation!"

The new-style military drills commenced immediately, their tactics completely overwhelming the old dynasty's imperial guards. Infantry formed sharp, square formations, advancing and retreating with perfect uniformity; thousands of iron boots pounded the ground with a thunderous roar, raising dust and causing the earth to tremble. Spearmen advanced in layers, alternating between long and short spears, complementing each other in offense and defense, overcoming the fatal weakness of the old army's single charge. Heavy armored shield bearers formed impregnable fortresses, layer upon layer, as stable as a fortress, capable of withstanding cavalry charges and repelling a hail of arrows, combining offense and defense to be invincible.

What alarmed the veteran generals most and completely overturned the military power structure in the Central Plains was the new tactic of combining cold and hot weapons.

The newly modified short guns and improved palm-sized grenades developed by Yang Huayu's firearms R&D department were all put into service. The gunners were arranged in three ranks, firing in shifts, providing alternating cover, and maintaining continuous firepower. Flashes of fire frequently erupted, smoke filled the training ground, and the sound of gunfire reverberated throughout the fields, creating a powerful and awe-inspiring spectacle. From then on, the new Song army completely bid farewell to the shortcomings of the old army, such as its disconnect between firepower and fire control and its weak firearms, and possessed long-range firepower that could overwhelm the surrounding countries.

Mu Guiying didn't pursue flashy techniques; she focused on mastering practical combat skills: rapid formation changes, open-field raids, nighttime assaults, and encirclement maneuvers in dire situations. During the day, she trained endurance, discipline, and formation coordination; at night, she honed courage, prepared for surprise attacks, and practiced coordinated, bloody battles. The entire army was extremely strict; anyone whose steps were disordered, whose gaze was unfocused, whose movements were slow, or whose formation was broken, was immediately punished with a rod—no leniency, no consideration for personal feelings, only adherence to military discipline.

In just a few months, the once weak and disorganized Imperial Guards of the capital region were transformed, shedding their lethargy and becoming an iron-blooded elite force that was disciplined, fearless, well-formed, and equipped with advanced firearms.

Every soldier in the camp knew that this secret and arduous training was no ordinary martial arts exercise. The Crown Prince had a far-reaching plan, recruiting the best talents in the land and forging an invincible army. He was pursuing both civil and military affairs in order to sweep away the century-long weakness of the Central Plains and wash away the humiliation of the border regions since the Five Dynasties.

The Liao people, relying on the natural defenses of Yan and Yun, looked down on the Central Plains for a century, believing the Song Dynasty to be weak, without soldiers, and incapable of fighting. The Western Xia, occupying the perilous western frontier, repeatedly raided and plundered, arrogant and domineering, showing no respect for the Song Dynasty. All this was because the Central Plains had long lacked a strong army and the border regions had long lacked victories.

This newly formed, secretly trained, and sharpened iron army is the sharp blade that Zhao Zong has hidden behind the prosperous era, and it is the absolute source of confidence for future northern expeditions to Yan and Yun, recovery of lost territories, and displaying his might on the northern frontier.

Zhao Zongshi had already meticulously planned: once the list of successful candidates in the Jiayou imperial examinations was released and all the talented scholars in the land had returned to their posts, he would send out numerous official letters, inviting envoys from Liao, Western Xia, Goryeo, and other countries to gather in Bianjing. They would first witness the grand spectacle of the Song Dynasty's once-in-a-millennium literary examinations, and then witness the iron-blooded military review of the newly reformed Song army.

With its flourishing culture, it demonstrated the profound heritage of the Song Dynasty over a thousand years; with its iron-fisted military might, it shattered the contempt of other nations.

A single imperial examination summoned the nation's literary talents, building a prosperous imperial court; a grand military review established the might of the four navies, deterring powerful enemies from beyond the borders. The dual display of civil and military prowess, ushering in a golden age, completely shattered the Liao people's century-long arrogance of "the Song being weak and easily bullied," laying the groundwork for future military preparations and the complete recovery of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun.

At that time, the civil service was brilliant and the government was full of capable officials; the military was formidable and its forces were powerful and invincible. The people were prosperous, the government was efficient and efficient, the people were loyal and the world submitted to it.

As the people yearn for and the land longs for, the glorious era of the Song Dynasty begins in all its magnificent glory.

The palace doors closed softly, the cicadas fell silent, and the study in the East Palace was filled with tranquility.

Zhao Zongshi stood by the window, waiting for his thoughts to settle, before turning around and neatly rolling up three maps of the land. Border defenses, the Grand Canal, the fields of the realm—years of planning and countless deductions were all contained within his documents and held dear in his heart. He understood clearly that the new policies were not a matter of momentary passion, but rather the result of meticulous, step-by-step, and deeply cultivated effort; only by proceeding slowly could stability be ensured for generations to come.

He reached out and picked up a letter from his home in the south, written on sturdy paper. The paper was strong, the characters warm, and the ink serene. Yue Linshan's few words conveyed the peace of his hometown and the good health of his parents. The last sentence, soft and tender, touched the softest part of his heart: "The green bamboo in the courtyard has grown over the wall, and Anhe can call me 'Father' now."

A letter home, a heart full of longing for home, was his most reassuring source of strength as he navigated the court and shouldered heavy reforms. All the worldly achievements, in the end, were for the sake of preserving the peace and well-being of families. He carefully folded the letter, tucked it close to his body, and kept it close to the old copper coin in his pocket. A coin to commemorate his impoverished years as a commoner, a letter to connect him with the warmth of family across a thousand miles, and a coin to bear the weight of the vast Song Dynasty.

With all distracting thoughts cleared, Zhao Zongshi laid out paper, picked up his pen, and with a resounding stroke, a handwritten edict from the Crown Prince was completed in an instant: Su Xun was to immediately proceed to Jingdong Circuit to assume the post of full-time land surveying commissioner, overseeing all matters related to the surveying of actual land and the standardization of household registration in the prefectures and counties. Along the way, manpower, post stations, materials, and funds should be directly requested by the Crown Prince's seal, bypassing the Ministry of Revenue and avoiding intermediaries, thus preventing any shirking of responsibility, withholding, or falsification. A personally written record should be submitted on the fifth day of each month, ensuring no village, no household, and every inch of land was accurately recorded.

The imperial seal was drawn, its bright red color and upright, signifying that the government's decrees would take root and flourish.

"Send it to Meizhou by express courier, six hundred li away." Zhao Zongshi raised his eyes and instructed Zhao Shun, his voice steady and resolute, "Transmit my oral decree: do not be greedy for quick results or engage in empty work, but only seek the true state of the land and the people. In the first year's record, I want to see the true face of every inch of land in the Eastern Capital region."

Zhao Shun bowed and accepted the order, then quickly withdrew, not daring to delay even for a moment.

In early summer in Bianjing, a warm breeze blows, and the streets and alleys are filled with the gentle smoke of cooking fires. Vendors hawk fresh apricots, and wisps of smoke rise from chimneys, creating a vibrant and warm scene of everyday life that is the very foundation of the land that the new government is determined to protect. A gentle breeze drifts through the window, rustling the pages of documents on the desk, like whispers of the people's hopes and the approaching golden age.

A moment later, Liu Xinyi stepped inside. Dressed in simple white, she was gentle and quiet, silently removing the cooled tea and replacing it with freshly brewed pre-rain tea. A dish of dew-kissed apricots sat on the table, sweet and fresh. She rarely spoke of politics, but with her gentle and subtle touches, she soothed his weary body and heavy burdens. Once everything was settled, she would quietly withdraw, gently closing the palace door, shutting out the hustle and bustle of the world.

Zhao Zongshi picked up an apricot and put it in his mouth. The sweet and sour aftertaste lingered in his throat, washing away the gloom from his desk work. His eyes were filled with the vastness of the mountains and rivers, and his heart burned with his original aspirations. Even if there were a thousand obstacles on the road ahead, he would still move forward steadily.

Meanwhile, in Meizhou, a thousand miles away, at Sufu.

Su Xun, dressed in simple clothes, was ready to depart. On his desk lay a topographical map of the Jingdong region, which he had personally hand-drawn. Years of travel, surveying, and repeated annotations and refinements had resulted in a map detailing every mountain, village, field, ravine, and soil condition. His wife, Cheng, silently packed his belongings, hiding a pair of cloth shoes with a thousand layers of soles sewn together at the very bottom of the package, each stitch a testament to the family's concern.

"You've been traveling so far, when will you return?" Cheng asked softly, her words filled with concern but without a trace of resentment.

Su Xun tightly bound the blueprints, his tone resolute: "Your Highness seeks practicality over speed. You will traverse all twenty-three counties east of Beijing, thoroughly investigating both the actual and unreal fields. It will take at least a year to complete this task."

After saying this, he turned and gazed at the jujube tree in the courtyard, its branches laden with green fruit, and said with a slight smile, "When I return from surveying the fields, the jujubes will be ripe, and the whole family can enjoy the new fruit."

This departure from his hometown was not for fame or fortune, but solely to clarify the land's boundaries and alleviate the people's suffering. Su Xun stepped out the door, the blazing sun illuminating his upright figure. A scroll of map depicting the mountains and rivers accompanied him, like a banner of new policies hidden among his common clothes, as he headed towards the future, determined to break through centuries of accumulated problems and usher in a new era for the Song Dynasty.

In June of the second year of the Jiayou era, the first thorough rain of summer fell in Bianjing.

The first complete record of land measurement in Jingdong Circuit was delivered to the Eastern Palace overnight. Su Xun's manuscript, though slightly damp from the rain and with ink blotted, remained meticulous and precise in every word. It detailed the actual land, soil fertility, water sources, and harvests for each county, township, and household, with clear and flawless entries. The final line of annotation directly addressed a century-old problem plaguing the Song Dynasty: the old records of Jingdong Circuit recorded 1.7 million mu of land, but the actual measurement only reached 1.43 million mu, a waste of 270,000 mu. This money did not go to the official granaries, nor to the common people, but instead ended up in the pockets of officials and powerful families.

The 270,000 mu of fictitious land represents the hard-earned money of 270,000 people, which has been exploited and concealed layer by layer year after year. This has been a long-standing problem for a century, and no one has dared to investigate or expose it.

After reviewing the document three times, Zhao Zongshi's eyes darkened. He then instructed Zhao Shun, who was standing beside him, in a deep voice: "Send a secret letter to Su Xun. The regular records should be submitted monthly, and a separate secret register should be opened. All cases of false reporting by clerks, hidden land by powerful families, and layer-by-layer exploitation found in the land surveying office, regardless of their size, should be compiled into a separate register and secretly sent to the Crown Prince's Palace. The original documents should be sealed and not transcribed by any other government office."

What he wanted was not some empty political achievement, but the true state of the Song Dynasty and the eradication of its deep-seated problems.

With a solid foundation of good governance, public opinion can unite hearts and minds. Zhao Zongshi used the Gewu Academy to improve movable type printing and established the first official gazette of the Song Dynasty, "Bianjing News". He abandoned the secrets of the court and opened the ears of the people to the whole country. With straightforward language and true facts, he made the new policies audible and visible to all people.

The first official gazette did not praise the emperor or exaggerate; it simply reported the actual land survey in the eastern part of the country, clearly showing the difference in acreage between the old and new fields. The editor's note at the end of the article was a wake-up call: The land of the Great Song Dynasty supports the people of the Great Song Dynasty. Taxes are determined by actual figures, and the nation prospers through practical measures. Those who falsify data will be compensated, and those who conceal information will be corrected. This is the beginning of the new policy.