Chapter Thirty-Four: Surely I Am Not Dreaming?

"Dezhao, you little rascal, get over here this instant!"

Hearing this roar from Zhao Kuangyin, the civil and military officials in the Funing Palace were naturally bewildered, having no idea how Zhao Dezhao could have offended the Emperor. Zhao Dezhao himself was equally confused, failing to grasp why he had provoked his foster father. Only Zhao Guangyi closed his eyes in resignation, having guessed the true intent behind Zhao Kuangyin’s outburst.

Confusion aside, since Zhao Kuangyin had spoken, Zhao Dezhao—who was currently trying hard to curry favor with his foster father—meekly stepped forward and bowed. Zhao Kuangyin flicked him hard on the forehead and snapped, "You rebellious son! If these poems were already written, why didn't you present them to me earlier for my review?"

The officials in the hall breathed a sigh of relief. Zhao Dezhao, feeling a mix of amusement and frustration, quickly replied, "Father, please forgive me. I was worried that these poems were crude and did not dare to waste your time seeking your guidance, which is why I did not present them to you."

"Your Highness, you are too modest. If these poems are considered crude, then whose in the entire world could possibly be called exquisite?"

Xu Xuan, the envoy from Southern Tang, seized the opportunity to speak. He bowed to Zhao Kuangyin and said, "Your Majesty, I must beg your pardon. I was arrogant and prideful, showing little respect for the scholars of your esteemed country. It was only today, upon witnessing the talent of your son, that I realized there is always a mountain higher than the mountain, and a sky beyond the sky."

As the book notes, because Zhao Kuangyin pioneered the state policy of valuing civil service over martial arts, the truly talented Xu Xuan had indeed enjoyed a period of prestige in Kaifeng as the Southern Tang envoy. His literary prowess had humbled the officials of the Song court, forcing Zhao Kuangyin to intervene personally by cleverly arranging for illiterate men to host Xu Xuan, leaving the envoy with no one to engage with and finally reclaiming some dignity for the court.

Precisely because of this, seeing the renowned scholar Xu Xuan finally humbled before him, Zhao Kuangyin felt secretly smug. He said, "Envoy Xu, please rise. My son merely possesses a bit of minor talent; it is not worth such a fuss."

Not everyone was as hypocritical as Zhao Kuangyin. Empress Song immediately picked up the thread and instructed Zhao Dezhao, "Dezhao, when you have time, you should come to the palace more often to teach your younger brother, so he may learn more about poetry from you."

Knowing that his stepmother, who was only a year older than himself, was currently in favor, Zhao Dezhao dared not hesitate. He quickly bowed and said, "Rest assured, Your Majesty. Whenever I have free time, I will certainly come to the palace to study with my second younger brother."

Empress Song, doting on Zhao Defang, nodded with satisfaction. Then, Shi Shouxin spoke up with a smile, "Your Majesty, Empress, please don't be too biased. When he has time, could you let the Prince also instruct our nephews and sons, so they might learn a thing or two from him as well?"

"Yes, indeed! Your Majesty, please do not be too biased."

The other "Righteous Society" brothers chimed in, echoing Shi Shouxin's suggestion. Zhao Kuangyin, who was still reasonably generous toward his meritorious officials, smiled and said, "That is certainly no problem. Dezhao, from now on, when you have time, you should visit the homes of your uncles often and study with their descendants."

Before Zhao Kuangyin could finish, the expressions of Zhao Guangyi and many officials present shifted. They all knew clearly that while most of the ten brothers of the Righteous Society had surrendered their military power and were ostensibly detached from the army, they still held sway over many former subordinates and protégés within the ranks. Zhao Kuangyin’s public approval of Zhao Dezhao’s frequent interaction with these men raised suspicious questions about his true motives.

Zhao Dezhao was well aware of what this decision meant for him. As he hurriedly thanked the Emperor, he couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Finally, I see a glimmer of hope."

Following this small interlude, the banquet officially began. After a few rounds of drinks, the main event commenced. Under Zhao Kuangyin's direct orders, six professional sumo wrestlers—known as *neidengzi*—along with two external contestants, Wang Hanzhong and Huyan Zan, stepped before the Funing Palace to prepare for the competition.

Seeing their different attire and having already met his brother’s favored general, Wang Hanzhong, Zhao Kuangyin recognized Huyan Zan, whom Zhao Dezhao had recommended. However, upon seeing the tattoo on Huyan Zan's face, Zhao Kuangyin felt puzzled. *I recall Dezhao saying his recommendation came from a family of generals. Why would he have a tattoo? And what officer from a military family starts as a low-level foot soldier?*

Though curious, Zhao Kuangyin did not waste time in front of the crowd to question his son. Instead, he smiled and asked Wang Ji'en, "Ji'en, is everything prepared?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, everything is ready," Wang Ji'en replied respectfully. "In the side hall, they drew lots for the order of appearance. Coincidentally, General Wang Hanzhong, recommended by the Second Prince, is the first to compete."

Zhao Kuangyin nodded with satisfaction and declared, "Gentlemen, I presume some of you already know that this sumo tournament is different from the usual. In addition to the palace wrestlers, my brother Zhao Guangyi and my son Zhao Dezhao have each recommended a general from the Forbidden Army to participate. Since this is a special occasion, let us make it complete: you may all wager on the outcome of the matches."

Coming from a military background, the brothers of the Righteous Society were naturally excited and cheered loudly. The other civil and military officials followed suit, clapping and applauding. At a gesture from Zhao Kuangyin, Wang Ji'en shouted, "The sumo match begins! First round: Kaifeng Prefecture Patrol Officer Wang Hanzhong against the *neidengzi* Qin Fa! Those wishing to wager, place your bets now!"

"I bet one hundred strings of cash on Wang Hanzhong!"

"Two hundred strings on Wang Hanzhong!"

"Five hundred strings, I bet on Wang Hanzhong!"

To the surprise of Zhao Kuangyin, Zhao Dezhao, and others, before Wang Ji'en's voice had even faded, many officials were already standing up, scrambling to place bets on Wang Hanzhong. Zhao Guangyi even declared smugly, "I also bet on Wang Hanzhong—ten thousand strings!"

Regrettably, although many officials and nobles were gambling, not a single person was willing to place their chips on Wang Hanzhong's opponent, Qin Fa. Seeing this, Qin Fa was naturally embarrassed, and Zhao Kuangyin remarked with a bitter smile, "Is Patrol Officer Wang so highly favored? If everyone bets on him, how can there be a real contest?"

No one spoke. Zhao Kuangyin, feeling helpless, ordered, "Then let us begin."

As it turned out, there was a reason everyone bet on Wang Hanzhong. Once the match started, though Qin Fa—the underdog—tried to make a stand by lunging forward, Wang Hanzhong merely swayed his body to dodge the attack, grabbed him, used his waist and leg strength to hoist him, and threw him onto the soft mat, leaving Qin Fa sprawled on his back.

"Good!"

Cheers erupted. Zhao Guangyi smiled triumphantly, while Zhao Kuangyin, who had also doubted Qin Fa, sighed slightly and announced, "Wang Hanzhong wins!"

It wasn't until the second round that a real contest occurred in the Funing Palace. The two competing palace wrestlers performed quite well, exchanging a spectacular match that earned applause from the hall and gradually lifted the atmosphere.

The third round was another internal match between palace wrestlers. Finally, when Huyan Zan stepped onto the mat, Wang Ji'en gave a special introduction: "Gentlemen, the palace wrestler competing in this round is no simple man. You should all remember his name—yes, he is Wang Jian, the guard who won first place three times in a row this year at the Lantern Festival, His Majesty's birthday, and the Dragon Boat Festival!"

Warm applause filled the Funing Palace. Wang Jian, the three-time champion, looked smug, raising his hands to acknowledge the cheers. Once Wang Jian had finished basking in the glory, Wang Ji'en—who clearly disliked Wang Zhifa—introduced Huyan Zan: "This is the opponent of Guard Wang. His surname is Huyan, and his given name is Zan. He is the Deputy Commander of the Xiaoxiong Army, recommended for this tournament by the Prince of this dynasty."

There was sparse response. Zhao Kuangyin asked directly, with a look of confusion: "Dezhao, I recall you recommending a commander named Yu from the Iron Cavalry Army. How did it become a Deputy Commander from the Xiaoxiong Army? And the name is wrong, too."

"Reporting to Father, it is like this," Zhao Dezhao quickly rose to explain truthfully: "I did indeed recommend General Yu Jinsheng of the Iron Cavalry Army, but he had bad luck. He got an upset stomach yesterday and spent the whole night running to the latrine dozens of times... he couldn't even stand up."

"Hahahaha!"

Needless to say, the Funing Palace erupted in laughter before Zhao Dezhao could finish. He added with an apologetic smile, "So, I had no choice but to push a substitute into service, asking General Huyan Zan, who happened to be passing by, to replace him."

"Happened to be passing by?" Even Zhao Kuangyin was stunned. He asked in shock, "Wait, do you mean to say you just grabbed someone off the street to enter the palace and compete in sumo in place of Yu Jinsheng? Did you even know him beforehand?"

"Reporting to Father, I did not. I only saw General Huyan for the first time when I entered the palace today," Zhao Dezhao replied honestly. Zhao Guangyi and many officials could not help but chuckle, but a flash of anger appeared on Zhao Kuangyin’s face. He almost scolded his son for treating the state banquet like a joke.

However, at the critical moment, Zhao Kuangyin suddenly recalled that after he seized the throne, he had asked the Privy Council to recommend a group of low-level officers for cultivation and training, and one of them seemed to be named Huyan Zan. Suppressing his anger, he said, "Fine. In light of your recent good performance, I will let it pass. I only hope that this Huyan Zan you picked at the last minute doesn't lose too disgracefully."

"Rest assured, Father. I believe in my own judgment, and I believe General Huyan will surely take first place in this tournament!"

Zhao Dezhao's reply surprised Zhao Kuangyin once more. Zhao Dezhao then turned to the crowd and announced loudly, "Gentlemen, for this match, I am willing to wager my entire fortune of three thousand strings of cash on General Huyan, betting that he can defeat the three-time champion, Guard Wang!"

The hall was in an uproar. Huyan Zan, standing on the mat, stood even straighter, his expression as rigid as iron. Zhao Dezhao added, "Is there anyone else who dares to bet on General Huyan to defeat Guard Wang?"

Being his maternal uncle, even though he had no confidence and was not particularly wealthy, He Huaipu chose to firmly support his nephew. He spoke up: "I bet one thousand strings that General Huyan wins!"

This time, even Zhao Dezhao was surprised. Xu Xuan, the foreign envoy, also spoke up: "I have about five hundred and twenty strings of cash left; I bet it all on General Huyan! If the Prince's keen eye has erred and the General cannot win, I shall beg for my food all the way back to Jinling!"

Zhao Dezhao gave an appreciative look to Xu Xuan, who had clearly been won over, then turned to the crowd again: "Gentlemen, what say you? Is there anyone willing to bet against us?"

"Second Prince, you are the Emperor's own brother and the head of the officials; you should take the lead," Zhao Pu suddenly spoke with a malicious smile. "If no one dares to bet on Guard Wang, this match will have no excitement at all."

Knowing full well that Zhao Pu was intentionally stirring the pot, Zhao Guangyi hesitated for a moment before smiling and saying, "The Minister is right. Very well, to make this match more interesting, I shall also bet three thousand strings that Guard Wang wins."

Only after placing his bet did Zhao Guangyi sneer inwardly: *Trying to scare me with a bluff? In your dreams! I don't believe for a second that some random tattooed soldier you grabbed off the street can defeat a palace wrestler who practices sumo every single day in the Imperial City!*

Once Zhao Guangyi had spoken, his subordinates followed suit. Many officials placed bets to join in the fun. Unfortunately, besides Zhao Dezhao, He Huaipu, and Xu Xuan, not a single person dared to pin their hopes on Huyan Zan; they all placed their chips on the palace wrestler Wang Jian.

Seeing this, Zhao Kuangyin finally became interested. After waiting for the eunuchs to record the bets, he personally announced, "Begin!"

The exciting moment had finally arrived. Hearing this, Zhao Guangyi and the countless officials held their breath, their eyes wide and fixed on the sumo ring. He Huaipu clutched his fists and gritted his teeth, his heart pounding against his ribs, while Zhao Dezhao remained calm and composed.

It is worth noting that the Southern Tang envoy, Xu Xuan, was incredibly calm, sipping a full cup of fine wine without spilling a drop.

"Kill!"

Simultaneously, the three-time champion Wang Jian roared, lunging forward to wrap his arms around Huyan Zan's waist. The hall erupted in cheers, knowing Wang Jian had seized the initiative.

To Wang Jian’s surprise, even though his waist was gripped, Huyan Zan remained motionless, making no move to counter-attack. Wang Jian felt a surge of secret joy and exerted all his might to throw Huyan Zan out of the ring, shouting, "Die!"

To Wang Jian’s disbelief—and the shock of the Song court officials—despite his best efforts, Huyan Zan's legs remained rooted to the ground like a tree. No matter how hard Wang Jian pushed, he could not move Huyan Zan even an inch.

"Die—!"

When Wang Jian roared again, his eyes were bloodshot, and veins bulged on his head, face, and hands. Yet, Huyan Zan remained as immovable as an iron statue, rendering all of Wang Jian's efforts futile.

Finally, sensing that Wang Jian had exhausted his strength, Huyan Zan opened his mouth and sneered, "Is that all? If you're done, then it's my turn."

Realizing the situation was dire, Wang Jian became extremely cautious, but it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Huyan Zan opened his ape-like arms, bent slightly, and countered by grabbing Wang Jian's waist. He easily lifted him like a hawk snatching a chick, forcing his feet off the ground, and spun him around three times like a windmill before hurling him away with a shout, "Go!"

*Bang!* The three-time champion Wang Jian was thrown from the ring, crashing heavily onto an official's banquet table. Dishes and bowls shattered, and oil and soup splashed all over the unfortunate official.

*Bang!* Another sound: the wine cup in Zhao Kuangyin's hand fell to the floor. Simultaneously, Zhao Guangyi stood up, his mouth agape wide enough to fit two duck eggs. He thought to himself, *Am I dreaming? How can a tattooed soldier pulled off the street be this powerful?*