The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

At the end of September in the third year of the Jiayou era, Han Qi's trial planting of corn, peanuts, and other crops yielded a bumper harvest. On this day, the autumn light in Bianjing was just right. The west wind was gentle, the warm sun was not fierce, the fragrance of osmanthus lingered in the streets and alleys, and the aroma of steamed buns, sweet cakes, and hot tea from the alley entrances permeated the entire city. The tension of the court and the solemnity of the military had faded away, and everywhere was the peacefulness of the city and the gentleness of time.

After the Crown Prince finalized the strategy for the Northern Expedition and settled the matter of the cross-sea legacy, he was able to steal a rare half-day of leisure. There were no official documents to attend to, no military or political discussions, only the autumn light in the courtyard and his family sitting idly, a scene of ordinary family life.

Zhao Zongshi changed out of his solemn and dignified black court robes as the crown prince, and into a slightly worn indigo robe, the cuffs casually rolled up twice, revealing a faint old scar on his wrist. It was a mark left from his days as a street urchin in Chenzhou, where he stood up for the poor and fought with Qiu Laohu and others. Despite years of court intrigue and battlefield experience, it remained, constantly reminding him not to forget the warmth of the common people and his humble origins.

He sat idly by the bluestone table under the ginkgo tree in the backyard, the first draft of "The Last Will and Testament of a Returned Overseas Student" spread out beside him, the pages gently unfurled, the scent of ink faint. An autumn breeze swept by, and golden leaves fluttered down, some landing on the table, some spreading across the bluestone, some clinging to his clothes, creating a gentle and tranquil scene.

The tranquil courtyard was suddenly broken by light, quick footsteps, accompanied by the soft, clear laughter of children echoing through the corridor: "Daddy! Daddy!"

Before the clear, childlike voice had even faded, a small, pale yellow figure rushed through the moon gate. The little girl, with her hair neatly styled in two buns, her face flushed red from running, her eyes bright as autumn water, her skirt fluttering, exuding vibrant energy, went straight for Zhao Zongshi.

It was her youngest daughter, Zhao Anhe, who had traveled all the way from Dali.

Yue Linshan followed closely behind, walking slowly. She wore an elegant, light white dress, her eyes gentle and composed. The youthful liveliness had faded, replaced by the serene gentleness of a wife and mother. For the past three years, she had helped Yang Jinhua settle affairs in Dali, and then brought Wang Zhuacai and the Yao family elders to their old home in Dali to live peacefully, away from the hustle and bustle of the court and the world. They spent their days chatting with the elders in the fields, planting flowers and vegetables, living a tranquil and peaceful life. This trip north to Bianjing was only to bring Anhe to reunite briefly with her father, to deliver a letter from home to the elders, and to fulfill her filial duty as an ordinary child.

Zhao Zongshi put down his book, stood up, opened his arms, and steadily caught the little girl who rushed towards him, then lifted her high into his arms. Anhe's hands and feet were slender and warm, and she clung tightly to his neck, resting her little head on his shoulder, murmuring in her childish voice, "Daddy! The rice cakes in Dali are soft and sweet, but Anhe likes the apricots in Bianjing even more! They're sweet and sour, so delicious!"

Zhao Zongshi cradled her soft little body, his eyes filled with gentle smiles: "You've grown taller and heavier in such a short time. Has your mother been feeding you well in Dali?"

"Yes, yes!" Anhe nodded vigorously, her little head bobbing earnestly as she counted on her fingers, "Mother makes steamed egg custard, lotus seed sweet soup, osmanthus lotus root starch, and soft, glutinous white rice cake every day! Anhe eats her fill at every meal!"

Yue Linshan stood to the side, watching the father and daughter play with a smile, and added softly, "This girl was so excited to see her father in Bianjing the night before that she couldn't sleep. She packed her little bundle and stuffed in the cloth tiger that her mother had sewn, saying she wanted to show it to her father."

Upon hearing this, Anhe immediately pulled out an adorably ugly cloth tiger from her clothes. The stitches were dense, with no cotton showing, and its two ears were uneven—a thoughtful touch from her mother, Yao. She held it high like a treasure, her eyes brimming with pride: "Father, look! This is a tiger I sewed myself! Mother said that tiger ears are supposed to be asymmetrical; that's what makes a real, majestic tiger!"

Zhao Zongshi solemnly accepted the clumsy yet warm little rag doll, examined it closely, and earnestly praised it: "You're right, it's unique, extremely majestic, and the most powerful little tiger in the world."

The little girl was delighted to hear this, and her giggles filled the courtyard, dispelling the autumn chill and making the entire backyard of the East Palace vibrant and warm.

Beneath the corridor, Liu Xinyi stood quietly, holding a plate of freshly steamed osmanthus cake and a pot of warm tea. Her eyes were gentle, and she was neither competitive nor vying for attention. She was always insightful and gentle, never disturbing the warmth of the father-daughter reunion, simply preparing the tea and snacks silently, guarding the tranquility of her courtyard. Yue Linshan looked up and met her gaze with a smile. No words were needed, no pleasantries required. Two gentle women, one from the south and one from the north, one quiet and one gentle, shared the same love, protecting the warmth of their home, their understanding profound.

The courtyard was filled with warmth and tranquility. At the side gate of the East Palace, two elegant and light phoenix palanquins slowly came to a stop. Emperor Renzong's health had been slightly weak recently, and the imperial physicians had repeatedly advised him to stay away from the burdens of official duties and enjoy more leisure and peace. After much deliberation, Renzong realized that none of the thousands of pavilions and terraces in the vast palace could compare to the secluded beauty of the ginkgo trees and the warmth of human life in the backyard of the East Palace. So, he brought Empress Cao and a small entourage, quietly coming here without any imperial regalia or to disturb the court officials. He simply wanted to be an ordinary old man, seeking a moment of familial warmth.

Emperor Renzong, dressed in a plain, dark blue robe, had shed the imposing presence of his imperial robes. A few more strands of silver hair had appeared at his temples, yet his complexion was rosy and his spirit was high. Empress Cao, in a dignified, simple dress, was gentle and serene, lightly supporting his arm as they walked with unhurried steps. The two strolled slowly through the corridors, avoiding the bustling palaces, solely to reach this courtyard amidst autumn leaves, for a moment of family bliss.

Turning past the carved corridor, a gentle scene unfolds before your eyes. Under the ginkgo tree, the Crown Prince sheds his usual ruthless composure, bending down to help his young daughter gather fallen leaves, patient and tender, just like any ordinary father. Anhe squats among the golden leaves, her little hands covered in fine dust, diligently searching for the most beautiful leaves, chattering away with childlike thoughts, vibrant and pure.

Suddenly hearing footsteps, An He looked up and saw a pair of elegant elderly people with bright, clear eyes. Without any fear, they greeted her with crisp, respectful hands, "Grandpa and Grandma, how are you?"

Emperor Renzong paused and gazed at the greeting, his heart suddenly softening. He had reigned for over thirty years, witnessing countless ceremonies with foreign powers paying tribute, officials kneeling in obeisance, and grand celebrations. He was accustomed to the strict hierarchy and rigid etiquette, but he had never heard such an unrestrained, pure, and sincere greeting, without any reverence or desire for reward, but simply the most genuine kindness of a child.

He rarely lost his composure. He bent down and squatted down, looking directly at the exquisitely beautiful little girl before him. He carefully examined her features, which resembled Zhao Zongshi's, and softly asked, "Child, what's your name?"

"My name is Anhe! An as in peace, He as in rice seedlings!" The little girl puffed out her small chest and explained earnestly, "My mother said that my name means I wish for peace and prosperity for the world every year, abundant harvests, and that everyone can have enough to eat and live a good life!"

A child's simple and pure words, though brief, fully express the true spirit of a prosperous era and the wishes of all people.

Emperor Renzong's heart trembled, a surge of warmth welling up within him. He gently stroked the top of her soft hair, his palm touching the child's warm, soft skin. The loneliness of half a lifetime as an emperor, the vicissitudes of the court, seemed to be soothed by this pure tenderness. Having spent most of his life ruling over a vast empire and wielding power over the world, all he sought—national peace and prosperity, year after year of tranquility—was hidden in this innocent child's words.

Empress Cao smiled gently, squatted down, took out a clean silk handkerchief, and carefully wiped the dust from An He's little hands, saying softly, "What a well-behaved and intelligent child."

Anhe tilted her little face up obediently and suddenly asked curiously, "Grandma, Grandpa's portrait is so golden and majestic, why isn't he wearing any nice clothes today?"

Her innocent and charming words made Emperor Renzong laugh heartily, his face showing a long-lost relaxed joy. He rose and gently lifted Anhe into his arms, sitting her on the stone bench under the ginkgo tree. The little girl sat obediently on his lap, her little legs swinging gently, pointing to the golden leaves fluttering in the air, and said happily, "Grandpa, look! The ginkgo leaves are like little fans! They fall like golden rain, so beautiful!"

The autumn breeze gently brushed the treetops, causing a shower of golden leaves to fall, creating a tapestry of vibrant colors. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the elderly and children, a scene of warmth, peace, and tranquility.

Emperor Renzong gazed at the ordinary scenery before him and sighed softly, his tone full of contentment: "In my more than thirty years on the throne, I have seen all the splendor of palaces and the magnificent landscapes of the country, but none of them are as peaceful and touching as this courtyard of ginkgo trees and the words of a child today."

The pregnant Liu Xinyi served warm tea and sweet osmanthus cake, while Yue Linshan laid out a fresh seasonal fruit platter. Qin Tiehua also arrived with Zhongzhen and Zhonghe (Qianhai, renamed Zhonghe). The three women stood to one side, chatting softly about the customs and rural life of Dali, their voices gentle and their atmosphere warm and inviting.

A tree in golden hues, two generations of elders, three virtuous relatives, and three young children. There are no courtly rituals, no hierarchy between ruler and subject, no burdens of family and country, only the leisurely chatter of an ordinary family and the warmth of family life.

After chatting for half an hour, the warm autumn sun began to slant downwards. Anhe, having had her fill of play, gradually grew languid and leaned against Emperor Renzong, drifting off to sleep. Yue Linshan, seeing that it was getting late, quietly took her leave, intending to take the child to rest and come to pay her respects another day.

Still half-asleep, Anhe was picked up by her mother. She groggily stretched out her little hand and whispered, "See you tomorrow, Grandpa... I'll watch the ginkgo rain with you again tomorrow..."

Emperor Renzong gently held her soft little hand, his eyes full of loving tenderness: "Alright, Grandpa will come again tomorrow to watch the leaves fall and eat pastries with my little Anhe."

The mother and daughter slowly departed, and the courtyard quieted down, save for the soft rustling of falling leaves. Emperor Renzong watched their retreating figures, then turned to Zhao Zongshi beside him, his tone relaxed and indifferent: "I've heard that there's been progress in the marriage between Qianhai and the Liao princess?"

Zhao Zongshi nodded slightly and replied in a gentle voice, "Yes. The Liao Kingdom intends to form a marriage alliance, following the example of the policy of peace through marriage. Your subject believes that since ancient times, it has been mostly our Chinese princesses who have been married off to other countries. Now that the Liao Kingdom is seeking peace, your subject bestows upon Qianhai the name Zhonghe, which means harmony between the North and the South, integration between the Han and non-Han peoples, and peace throughout the world. May the northern border enjoy lasting peace and stability, and may the two countries forever cease hostilities."

Emperor Renzong carefully pondered the meaning of the name and nodded in approval: "Zhonghe, excellent. This child carries the essence of both the North and the South, and will surely become a bridge between the two countries in the future, protecting the stability of the northern border and ensuring peace for all people. This name is fitting for people, for affairs, and for the world."

"What about Tiehua's child?" Emperor Renzong asked with a smile, his eyes full of loving curiosity.

"As for Zhongzhen," Zhao Zongshi said with a smile and a relaxed tone, "Zhen is the name of jade, meaning pure, steadfast, and gradually achieving greatness. This child is only three years old, but he is fierce and brave. He spends all day with Tiehua in the blacksmith's shop, daring to hold a wooden mallet and strike the anvil, unafraid of the scorching furnace fire. At such a young age, he already has a fierce and courageous spirit. Tiehua often says that if this child learns martial arts in the future, he will surely surpass his father."

Emperor Renzong listened with a smile, his silver beard trembling slightly, and he was overjoyed: "Tiehua is upright, loyal, and sincere. His son will surely inherit the family's good character. A commoner from the streets, hardworking, honest, and pure, is far more valuable than the frivolous sons of the court."

During their conversation, Emperor Renzong suddenly recalled an old story and asked softly, "Are your adoptive father, Zhua Cai, and adoptive mother, Yao, doing well in the south?"

One sentence was like a thunderclap in Zhao Zongshi's (Wang Zhonghua's) ears.