Chapter 7: He Really Is From a Thousand Years in the Future?!
With a thunderous roar, as if a sudden clap of thunder had exploded!
Wang Ji'en, kneeling on the ground, his joy overflowing in his words, directly confirmed the thoughts swirling in Zhao Kuangyin’s mind!
Indeed!
It was true—Li Yu had surrendered!
But... something was amiss!
According to the battle reports from the twenty-sixth, by all estimates, the city could not have fallen on the twenty-seventh.
So how could it have truly been taken so swiftly?
Zhao Kuangyin pressed one hand on his jade axe and hurried over to the Red Feather courier, who was kneeling on one knee.
“Go! Quickly pour warm water for the loyal hero of our Great Song!”
Though a thousand questions raced through his mind, Zhao Kuangyin did not ask them. Instead, he personally helped the Red Feather courier to his feet—a man who had galloped back from Jiangning to Kaifeng in urgent haste over eight hundred li.
Turning, he instructed Wang Ji'en.
Hearing this, Wang Ji'en hurried outside the Hall of Longevity to personally pour water for the messenger.
“Where are you going? Use my cup, pour my water!”
Wang Ji'en skidded to a stop and ran back to Zhao Kuangyin’s desk, filling a large cup with warm water and holding it with both hands before the obviously overwhelmed and honored Red Feather courier.
“Your Majesty, this... this is unnecessary. I am not thirsty,” the courier declined repeatedly, his eyes moistening.
“Eight hundred li with urgent speed, day and night without rest, changing horses but not men, nearly thirteen hundred li in less than two days—how could you not be thirsty? Stop pretending. Just drink; quench your thirst before you speak.”
Zhao Kuangyin took the warm water from Wang Ji'en and handed it to the courier.
Unable to refuse, the courier accepted it with both hands and drank it all at once.
Ordinary warm water tasted better than the finest wine!
“Don’t rush. Drink two more cups, two more cups,” Zhao Kuangyin said, taking the kettle himself and pouring two more cups of warm water for the courier.
After the third cup, he looked at the messenger whose eyes were red and tears betraying his composure. Though only three cups of water had been consumed, the messenger seemed revitalized, as if he had taken a miraculous elixir.
Zhao Kuangyin began to question him:
“How did the city fall so quickly?”
The Red Feather courier hurriedly explained, “On the twenty-seventh, our army besieged Jiangning and launched continuous fierce attacks. Suddenly, a section of the city wall collapsed. Our soldiers seized the opportunity and swarmed inside…”
As he spoke, he retrieved the victory dispatch tied to his chest and handed it respectfully to Zhao Kuangyin.
Zhao Kuangyin carefully examined the message, confirming it was intact before opening it.
The familiar handwriting of Cao Bin appeared before his eyes, the words brimming with joy and excitement.
The gist matched the courier’s account: on the twenty-seventh, during the assault, a section of the city wall in Jiangning unexpectedly crumbled.
The Song troops seized this once-in-a-lifetime chance to charge fiercely and breach the city.
Moreover, having besieged the city for so long, the Southern Tang capital of Jiangning had become an isolated fortress, morale low and most soldiers unwilling to resist.
Upon hearing this news, Southern Tang’s ruler Li Yu abandoned all resistance, opened the imperial palace, and formally surrendered.
Zhao Kuangyin read Cao Bin’s dispatch no less than five times.
In the past, upon receiving such a victory report that signaled the fall of the Southern Tang—a kingdom that had long slumbered beside his bed—he would have been overjoyed.
Yet now, although happy, his mind was clouded with other thoughts; the joy was no longer pure.
He recalled the young man in the imperial garden who had sworn on oath that on November twenty-seventh Jiangning would fall and Li Yu would surrender.
Originally, Zhao Kuangyin had planned to have this braggart secretly dealt with once the frontline report came in.
From their first meeting until now, he had been utterly convinced that the youth was a complete fraud—indeed, a particularly clumsy one.
Yet now, events had taken such a dramatic turn!
How could Zhao Kuangyin remain calm?
Could it be… that this youth truly came from over a thousand years in the future?
Could it be that his precise prediction of the solar eclipse and the fall of the Southern Tang on the twenty-seventh were not mere calculations, but gleaned from historical records?
In the past, such a bizarre and clumsy claim would have been utterly unbelievable.
But now, with ironclad facts before him, he could not help but wonder.
The solar eclipse might have been a secret leaked to the youth.
But the fall of Jiangning on November twenty-seventh and Li Yu’s official surrender—none of them, not even Cao Bin or Pan Mei, had anticipated this.
From Cao Bin’s victory report, it was clear the wall collapse was sudden…
Could it be that he had misjudged Rixin?
Perhaps Rixin was not deceived, but truly had encountered a remarkable person.
Maybe Rixin was not at fault, but had rendered a great service.
If this youth truly had traveled from a millennium hence, wouldn’t that mean Zhao Kuangyin could know many future events in advance?
His heart was in turmoil.
At that moment, he only wished to rush to the imperial garden to meet this youth at once!
“Your Imperial Majesty! Congratulations, Your Majesty! The Southern Tang has fallen!”
A loud voice filled with boundless joy rang out from afar.
Prince Jin Zhao Guangyi, beaming with happiness, appeared in the Hall of Longevity, followed by the Secretariat attendant and deputy prime minister Lu Duosun.
Zhao Kuangyin suppressed his urgent desire to visit Li Cheng in the garden and greeted them with a smile.
“The Southern Tang has fallen; the southern border is secure. Your Majesty’s grand ambitions will soon be fulfilled!”
Lu Duosun joined in the congratulations.
Lu Duosun was a staunch supporter of Zhao Guangyi, always fighting bravely for him.
It was no surprise that Zhao Guangyi and Lu Duosun knew about Li Yu’s surrender so swiftly and had come immediately.
After all, this was the annihilation of a kingdom—a great victory.
According to regulations, the Red Feather courier was to proclaim such glorious news loudly whenever passing important towns or crowded places to boost morale and share the triumph.
How could he remain silent upon entering the vital city of Bianliang?
“Recently, the solar eclipse occurred, and many said it portended the fall of the Southern Tang and our army’s great victory.
Now, it has indeed come to pass!
I congratulate Your Majesty, the Great Song, and all the people!”
Another voice sounded as two more figures quickly entered the Hall of Longevity.
They were Xue Juzheng, Minister of the Chancellery and co-prime minister, and Shen Yilun, Minister of Revenue and co-prime minister.
These two were currently the grand chancellors of the Great Song.
Previously, Zhao Pu had served as the sole prime minister, but after his dismissal, Zhao Kuangyin learned from that experience and appointed two prime ministers instead.
Chu Zhaofu, Wang Renzhan, and other senior officials eligible to attend such an occasion swiftly gathered, presenting their most sincere congratulations and joy to Zhao Kuangyin.
Zhao Kuangyin put aside his urgent desire to meet Li Cheng and his own son Rixin, focusing on the present occasion.
“This victory belongs to the soldiers who risked their lives, to the united efforts of all. I congratulate the soldiers, congratulate you all, and congratulate the Great Song! Long live the Great Song!”
Once the dignitaries had arrived in sufficient numbers, Zhao Kuangyin spoke passionately, his face alight with excitement.
“Long live the Great Song!”
“Long live the Great Song!”
At his command, all present, civil and military alike, shouted in unison, their spirits soaring with hope.
The Southern Tang was now destroyed, achieving what the Later Liang, Later Tang, Later Jin, and Later Zhou dynasties had failed to accomplish.
Next, if they could conquer Northern Han and reclaim Youyun, they could restore the lands of the Tang dynasty.
As ministers aiding their sovereign in this monumental task, they might, like the virtuous ministers of the Zhenguan era, earn great renown in history.
Even Zhao Kuangyin himself was swept up in the fervor, momentarily putting aside his eagerness to meet Li Cheng, his heart stirred by the bright future of the Great Song.
Prince Jin Zhao Guangyi stood foremost among the chancellors, his spirit buoyed.
Not only had they conquered the Southern Tang, but importantly, Zhao Dezhao was still absent from this significant occasion.
A few days prior, Zhao Dezhao had angered his elder brother by consorting with that absurd man.
Now, only days later, he had again missed this crucial gathering.
Zhao Dezhao was truly courting his own ruin!
Previously, he had merely offended the emperor, but his brother had concealed the matter from others.
This time, with so many prominent officials assembled, even the emperor could not shield Zhao Dezhao.
Perhaps this was for the best, allowing the great ministers of the Great Song to see just how ridiculous Zhao Dezhao was, utterly unfit to rule.
Only Prince Jin—Zhao Guangyi—was qualified to succeed the throne!
...
Inside his mansion, Zhao Dezhao locked himself in his chamber, his face haggard.
The past few days had been nerve-wracking and agonizing.
Each time he recalled how foolishly he had been deceived by Li Cheng’s words, especially how he had foolishly presented him to his father, he wanted to slap himself.
In truth, he had already done so several times in recent days.
After his father doused him with cold water, he had sobered up, increasingly convinced that something was wrong.
How could anyone truly come from over a thousand years in the future?
Zhao Dezhao had even sent someone to investigate Li Cheng’s background.
He was a native of Lijiawa, nothing remotely like a time traveler.
At first, Zhao Dezhao had felt hopeful about Li Cheng’s claims that Jiangning would fall on the twenty-seventh and Li Yu would surrender.
He thought this might help him regain favor with his father.
But after uncovering Li Cheng’s true background, his hope vanished.
Such a thorough fraud could never be accurate.
He had been utterly foolish and was now ruined by Li Cheng!
As Zhao Dezhao wallowed in exhaustion and regret, a joyous figure approached his mansion...