Chapter 25: Bewitching the Heart

Hearing Zhao Huan’s words, the old Taoist’s previously dejected spirits were rekindled with excitement. If things truly unfolded as Zhao Huan described, and his own Lingxiao Sect could be established as the orthodox pillar of Daoism, then his life would have been worthwhile—even if it ended soon after.

The art of ruling with both stick and carrot was something Zhao Huan, though not long on the throne, already understood thoroughly.

As he left the Armory Department, swaying inside the dragon carriage, Zhao Huan suddenly found himself nostalgic for the automobiles of later times. Technology truly is the primary force of productivity—he would have to set the Armory Department a new task.

“Your Majesty, are we returning to the palace now?” his personal eunuch inquired.

Zhao Huan had originally intended to go straight home, but this question made him change his mind. “No, let’s not return yet. I’d like to wander the streets for a while.”

The eunuch’s heart skipped a beat at Zhao Huan’s words. He replied, “I’ll notify General Yue right away.”

Zhao Huan waved him off. “No need. We’ll just stroll incognito—no need to inform Yue Fei. Otherwise, with a squad of soldiers at our heels, what’s the point of wandering?”

“But, Your Majesty, your safety—” the eunuch hesitated, clearly troubled.

“Just have a few men change into civilian clothes and keep their distance. Stay out of sight, but keep us protected. Remember, don’t disturb the townsfolk,” Zhao Huan instructed.

“It’s still too risky,” the eunuch protested, uneasy.

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t go around announcing it, no one will know I’m the emperor,” Zhao Huan replied indifferently, already turning away.

The eunuch could only sigh and approach the guards. “Pick a few of you, change into plain clothes, and follow at a distance. Be alert—don’t let His Majesty notice, or you’ll bring trouble on yourselves.”

“Master Cheng, is His Majesty going out in disguise?” the captain of the guards whispered.

Cheng Dafu nodded. “Be careful, all of you. If you notice anyone suspicious, deal with them ahead of time. If anything happens to His Majesty, you’ll be the ones to lose your heads.”

The captain dared not take this lightly. He selected ten elite soldiers, had them change into ordinary dress, and follow Zhao Huan from afar. To be safe, he also sent someone to quietly alert Yue Fei.

Dressed as a commoner, Zhao Huan wandered leisurely through the bustling streets. It had been over a month since his arrival in this era, yet this was his first time taking in the sights of Bianjing.

He had to admit: the Song Dynasty was truly prosperous. At that time, its national production accounted for a fifth of the world’s total—its wealth rivaled that of America in later centuries. Bianjing alone boasted a population of over a million, and the throngs on the streets spoke to the city’s vitality.

The Song Dynasty was a curious age—its people were wealthy, yet lived at an unhurried, languid pace. After the Jin army retreated, the citizens of Kaifeng quickly returned to their pre-war routines; the looming threat from the north did little to disturb their peace.

After strolling for a while, Zhao Huan found it was midday and ducked into a nearby restaurant.

“Gentlemen, are you here for a quick bite or a full meal?” the waiter greeted them warmly as Zhao Huan and Cheng Dafu entered.

“Find us a good private room—we’re here to dine,” Cheng Dafu replied in his high, sharp voice.

“I’m sorry, sir, business is brisk today—our private rooms are all taken. How about a window seat upstairs?” the waiter offered.

Cheng Dafu was about to protest, but Zhao Huan waved it away. “Never mind, we’ll eat out here.”

Though still uneasy, Cheng Dafu had little choice as the waiter efficiently led Zhao Huan upstairs.

The place was indeed lively; in the center stood a small stage, where a storyteller was recounting a tale—the subject, none other than the wars between Jin and Song.

“Now, let me tell you: when the Jin army besieged our Bianliang, they sent no less than half a million troops! The city was surrounded so tightly that not even a bird could slip past the Jin’s watchful eyes. With so many soldiers, our city seemed doomed. Tell me—what were we supposed to do?” The storyteller, seasoned in stagecraft, didn’t just narrate; he engaged the audience directly.

“Whether we held the city or not, that’s for the soldiers to worry about—what’s it got to do with us common folk?” someone called from the crowd.

“Is that so, good sirs? If the Jin army had broken through, would any of us be here, eating, drinking tea, and listening to my stories? You can’t imagine what the Jin do: wherever they go, they burn, kill, and pillage. Why, even a child as small as that one would be snatched away and roasted over the fire!” The old man suddenly pointed at a mischievous child.

The boy, terrified at the thought of being eaten, burst into tears.

“Enough with the stories—why frighten the children?” the child’s parent protested.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m not trying to scare you. When the Jin arrived, all the men were slain, the women carried off, homes burned to ashes. We nearly lost everything!” The old man’s tone grew mournful.

“Oh, stop scaring us. Isn’t everything fine now?” someone objected.

“True, we’re fine now—but do you know why Bianliang survived unscathed, why the Jin army failed to breach our walls?” the storyteller pressed.

“Obviously, it was our soldiers’ valor,” someone interjected.

“Wrong! Utterly wrong!” the old man declared loudly.

Listening nearby, Zhao Huan at first found the tale amusing. But at this point, his brow furrowed; clearly, the storyteller had ulterior motives.

“If I’m wrong, then tell us—what’s the truth?” came a mocking retort.

“Patience, good sirs. Let me tell you the whole story,” the old man said, deliberately pausing for effect. “Do you recall the great fire outside the city a month ago?”

“You mean when the Jin army’s supplies burned?” someone quickly responded.

“Precisely! At that time, though Bianjing was besieged, the Jin army’s camp suddenly went up in flames. Do you know why?” the old man continued, drawing the crowd in.