18. After Dismissing the Envoys from the Wen Zhi Pavilion, He Returned to His Homeland

The frontline was ablaze with military intelligence, while fierce political struggles raged in the rear.

Just before appointing Li Tingzhi as the Grand Commissioner to pacify the two routes of Jing and Hu, the court’s discussions flared anew, demanding that Jia Sidao, the Chancellor in charge of military and state affairs, take command of all land and naval forces nationwide and lead the relief efforts to Xiangyang.

Debates erupted uncontrollably. Even Zhao Xian, the emperor who had long dwelled deep within the palace, received numerous memorials. In truth, Zhao Xian was not entirely ignorant of the urgency surrounding Xiangyang’s battle, yet his innate cognitive deficiencies left him somewhat dull-witted. Even knowing the peril, he had no effective solution.

The court’s public opinion favored sending Jia Sidao as commander, but Zhao Xian harbored two concerns. First, if Jia Sidao went to Xiangyang, who would manage the military affairs of the Lianghuai region and oversee the rear? Second, since the Song dynasty's power center had greatly weakened, relying solely on political inertia for continuation, it was imperative to depend on a strong political figure to maintain stability.

Regarding the first concern, Li Tingzhi was already stationed at the front in Lianghuai and could defend the city. However, bows and crossbows, armor, and military supplies all needed to be dispatched from the rear. With Lianghuai embroiled in conflict, someone in Hangzhou had to coordinate reinforcements and logistics.

Who else but Jia Sidao possessed the prestige and capability to procure military funds and equipment and recruit large armies to send to Lianghuai?

The second point was even clearer. Since the Southern Song’s inception, a succession of powerful chancellors emerged, directly tied to the dynasty’s inherent weakness. Having lost the legitimacy of ruling the entire realm and confined to the south, the co-governance with the scholar-official class became increasingly pronounced.

Many matters the emperor could neither personally handle nor successfully execute; thus, a prime minister wielding immense power over court and country had to undertake those tasks the emperor could not.

If successful, no one would mention it; if not... recall how Han Tuozhou met a sudden, violent death. Even forged imperial edicts couldn’t save him. And Jia Sidao? History records how he was beaten to death in a latrine.

Thus, after Jia Sidao petitioned to assume command, Zhao Xian refused and insisted he remain in Hangzhou to govern.

At this time, Wen Tianxiang, serving as a palace attendant and holding concurrent authority to draft edicts, penned a sharply sarcastic imperial order to retain Jia Sidao, which enraged the latter. Jia Sidao ordered the censorate to impeach Wen Tianxiang, resulting in Wen’s dismissal.

Before departing, Jia Sidao sought to bid farewell to friends and relatives. Among them was Zhang Cheng, who had also passed the imperial examination in the fourth year of the Baoyou era. Zhang Cheng, the eldest of four siblings and the elder brother of Zhang Xun, was thirty-five that year.

While conversing with Wen Tianxiang, family members outside reported that someone from his old home in Jinling had brought a letter. Zhang Cheng gestured for Wen Tianxiang to remain seated comfortably, saying he would return shortly after receiving the letter.

Though said to be “receiving the letter,” Zhang Cheng merely stood at the door waiting for his people to arrive. Soon, Chu Jiu and two archers appeared with a letter sealed in wax. Recognizing Chu Jiu as a familiar family servant, Zhang Cheng instructed his household to prepare wine and meat for the three, allowing them to rest after reading the letter before returning home with a reply.

Wen Tianxiang showed little curiosity about Zhang’s family affairs, instead inquiring about Lu Xiufu, who had recently gone to Changzhou. Indeed, Lu Xiufu was also a jinshi of Baoyou’s fourth year, and all shared a camaraderie of their examination cohort. After all, Zhang Xun’s father had married his daughter to Lu Xiufu, whose family resided near Runzhou and was of the same examination class as Zhang Cheng's eldest brother.

Coincidentally, Lu Xiufu had previously sent a letter to Hangzhou, nothing secretive. Zhang Cheng produced it for Wen Tianxiang to read.

The letter expressed gratitude for Zhang’s family’s strong support, which had enabled Lu Xiufu to organize a force of five thousand white-armored troops. It also mentioned that Zhang Xun had grown capable, recently leading men to slay a fierce white-eyed tiger in Nanshan, ridding the people of a menace.

Seeing that Lu Xiufu’s military affairs were in order, Wen Tianxiang nodded approvingly. Both men agreed that Li Tingzhi was a renowned general and Lianghuai had elite troops; this time, they might break Xiangyang’s siege.

After this, Zhang Cheng asked Wen Tianxiang how he planned to return to his ancestral home in Jiangxi. Banditry was rampant near Taihu Lake, and many soldiers were fleeing along the river. Wen Tianxiang, a lone scholar returning home, might face danger.

It would be better to depart promptly, still possible to catch Lu Xiufu’s official boat. After organizing the white-armored troops in Changzhou, Lu Xiufu intended to proceed to Runzhou to arrange naval vessels. Wen Tianxiang traveled alone; Lu Xiufu commanded a large force, so their speeds differed, but catching up was still feasible.

Once in Jiangxi, returning home would not be easy either. Just look at how Zhang Xun faced the menacing presence in Changzhou with five to six men, utterly unafraid.

Indeed, it seemed more convenient for Wen Tianxiang to accompany Lu Xiufu to Jiangxi—trustworthy and safer with an official vessel nearby.

After their discussion, the two parted ways, and Zhang Cheng opened the family letter. It contained two matters: his younger brother inquired who was the new prefect of Changzhou, and their mother requested some kudzu cloth. Nothing urgent; kudzu cloth could be purchased immediately from the market, and learning the new prefect’s identity could be done discreetly the next day.

A secret inquiry revealed that Zhao Rujian, an eighth-generation descendant of Emperor Taizong, was likely to be appointed as Changzhou’s new prefect.

Zhang Cheng considered this man unimpressive, lacking strength, decisiveness, or eloquence. Moreover, Zhao’s connections were tied to General Yang Zhen, with whom Zhang was even less acquainted.

During the Song dynasty, there was a vast divide between families of successful examination candidates and those of powerful eunuchs or military nobles. Families of scholars looked down upon the latter, and it was considered shameful for a jinshi’s daughter to enter the palace, subject to ridicule by the literati.

However, by the late Song, many scholar-officials had grown corrupt and impure—it was all the same. One who was not virtuous had no right to mock another.

After drafting his reply, Zhang Cheng summoned Chu Jiu and the others, sealed the letter with wax, and ordered them to accompany Wen Tianxiang back to Changzhou. This was a simple task, and the servants obeyed, following Wen Tianxiang’s boat.

Since they were companions from the same examination cohort, Wen Tianxiang asked about their journey. The news surprised him: banditry was rampant not only around Taihu Lake but also at the river’s mouth, where water pirates abounded. Near Suzhou’s Pingjiang Prefecture, robberies occurred almost daily, with bandits pillaging from all sides, making life unbearable for the common folk.

What about Changzhou? Slightly better, but only marginally. Patrols stationed at Mashan kept small bands of thieves at bay, and large groups feared the iron fist of Zhang’s family. Yet the water pirates of Changdang Lake and Ge Lake were numerous and more fearsome than the tigers of Nanshan or the evil dragons of Beigang.

“Did your second brother really slay the fierce tiger?”

“Indeed!” Chu Jiu’s eyes gleamed as he enthusiastically recounted the tale, having witnessed it himself. He declared that Zhang Xun shot the tiger in Nanshan, captured the dragon in Beigang, and defended the waters of Yongshan—heroic and unparalleled.

His words painted Zhang Xun as if he were a divine warrior incarnate, subduing tigers and dragons with unmatched valor.

Wen Tianxiang, well-read in the classics and possessing some discernment, was skeptical of such supernatural tales. Yet, since this was his close friend’s younger brother and Lu Xiufu’s letter corroborated Zhang Xun’s killing of the tiger, a flicker of curiosity stirred within him.