Chapter 11. Did the barbarians enter China and become Chinese? ...
Fusu had already planned it out. He would first listen to Mr. Song explain the details of the peace negotiations with Western Xia, and then take advantage of Zhao Zongshi's trip home to visit relatives to visit the Xiangguo Temple and inspect the Western Xia envoys.
Finally, when the details of the peace negotiations between Song and Xia were finalized and the emperor personally made the decision, he tried to act coquettishly and ask the emperor to take him along, taking the opportunity to show off his pro-war stance in front of the emperor and officials.
Who would have thought that the battle lines would be stretched so long, and that they would have to go on stage to perform, all just to legitimately distance themselves from the position of crown prince, and further and further away from it?
Fusu resignedly patted his cheeks, making a "slap slap" sound. He rallied his spirits, picked up the Analects that was face down on the table, and began to recite it from memory.
The entire Analects is less than a finger's width thick. It was printed by a book bureau that was in charge of printing books for the royal collection. The ink is clear and transparent, and the paper is snow-white and soft, making it a pleasure to hold in your hands.
Thanks to Fusu's previous two lives, he was very familiar with this book. However, this was the first time that the Analects had appeared as an officially designated required reading.
Needless to say, in his first life, in the Qin Dynasty, even Confucius, Mencius, Yang Zhu, Laozi, and Zhuangzi had to give way to Shen Buhai and Han Feizi. His father had advised him many times to read less heretical and fallacious doctrines that might corrupt his mind, but Fusu was stubborn and never listened.
In the second generation, the Analects became a classic of Chinese studies, but it was just one of the many essential texts in Chinese language education, and its presence was not particularly strong.
Governing with virtue is like the North Star.
Confucius, standing by a river, said, “Time flows on like this river, never ceasing day or night.”
Substance over form is crude; form over substance is pedantic. Only when substance and form are in perfect balance can one be a true gentleman.
The incredibly familiar sentences came into view, stirring up various memories of Fusu's two lifetimes, tinged with a touch of sorrow.
But setting aside everything outside the context, if we only look at the text of the Analects itself, Confucius was just an old man who loved to preach, had a lot of idealism, and some quirks.
When he led his disciples to preach in six countries, he probably never imagined that he would be enshrined in a shrine for more than two thousand years.
Fusu memorized the short ten pages in less than half an hour. The next day, when he went to Zishantang, he went to Mr. Song to exchange money for goods.
"So fast?" Song Qi was startled, but his face quickly lit up with joy. Fu Su didn't need to ask to know what he was happy about; he was probably thinking that His Highness Prince Cheng was indeed very clever, and he might even complain to the Emperor after class.
For the sake of Western Xia, Fusu tolerated it!
After he finished reciting, Song Qi's gaze fell on the two companions: "Besides His Highness Prince Cheng, is there anyone else who wants to recite?"
Li Qiu shook his head, his face flushed with embarrassment. He had spent the entire night memorizing by candlelight and had only managed four and a half pages. However, the other person silently raised his hand. Fusu immediately turned around, both surprised and suspicious. "Wait, weren't you looking reluctant yesterday?"
After Song Qi nodded in acknowledgment, Yan Jidao closed the book and slowly recited it, his fluency no less than that of Fusu, who had access to a cheat code from his past life.
So, you were secretly rolling the ball behind everyone's back, weren't you?
Yan Jidao's behavior reminded Fusu of the most enviable top student in his class when he was in school in his previous life—who would casually say that he hadn't learned or reviewed anything, but would actually score higher than anyone else in the exam.
But teachers would never dislike this kind of student. As you can see, Song Qi smiled even more happily: "Very good, very good. Since both King Cheng and Yan Qilang are so enthusiastic, then I, as their teacher, have no choice but to fulfill my promise."
He also added a word of comfort to Li Qiu: "Young Master Li, there's no need to be discouraged. Studying and understanding principles is always for your own benefit, so there's no need to compare yourself to others."
"Yes, I'll listen to Mr. Song." Li Qiu nodded haphazardly, but he was still a little downcast. Fu Su decided to comfort him after class.
He craned his neck and mouthed "Western Xia" to Song Qi. The latter raised an eyebrow, picked up paper and pen and laid them in front of Fusu. He used the brush to draw a few lines on the paper, which were clearly the outline of the Song Dynasty's territory: "Since Prince Cheng knows about Western Xia, do you know where Western Xia is located in the Song Dynasty?"
"In the northwest."
Following Song Qi's example, Fusu drew up a map himself. Combining his memories from his previous life, he determined that the territory of Western Xia was roughly in the Ningxia, Qinghai, and Gansu areas of China, bordering the northern part of Shaanxi, and not far beyond Xinjiang.
Upon seeing it, Song Qi praised, "Your Highness's brushwork is quite exquisite; it's interesting to draw with a charcoal pencil."
He added, "By the way, the Western Xia is located to the northwest of the Song Dynasty. Unlike us Han people who live by agriculture, they live by herding cattle, sheep and horses, and live by moving with the climate and water. Although some of them do farm, they are a minority and do not constitute a significant force."
Fusu nodded seriously; this was roughly in line with what he knew. Northern nomadic peoples, after all, were primarily engaged in animal husbandry.
"For the past century, the Western Xia was merely a vassal state of the Liao Dynasty. But six years ago, it rose from a Liao subject and vassal to a hostile neighbor, and even caused the Song Dynasty to suffer repeated defeats on the battlefield. What does Your Highness think is the reason for this?"
"Because...they're really good at fighting?"
“Exactly.” Song Qi picked up his brush and wrote two characters on the paper depicting the Western Xia dynasty. One was “horse”, and the other was “iron”.
"Has Your Highness ever heard of the 'Iron Falcon' of Western Xia?"
The Western Xia people rode Tangut horses, both riders and horses clad in heavy iron armor. With just a few charges, they could shatter the Song army's formations and inflict countless casualties. The Song army was unable to retaliate.
Even with Song Qi's magnanimous nature, recalling the battle reports he had read and imagining the Song army's inability to retaliate and their forced retreat, his expression and voice both became somewhat somber.
Fusu was speechless.
No one understood better than him the destructive power of combining these two technologies in warfare. In the era of cold weapons, cavalry was a devastating blow to infantry. Moreover, the Northern Song Dynasty was not known for its strong military. It was perfectly normal that they couldn't win.
The only thing that surprised Fusu was that the iron-smelting technology of the Western Xia was so advanced that even the Northern Song Dynasty took notice, to the point that Song Qi specifically mentioned it. He had thought that the Western Xia, like the Liao, Jin, and Mongol dynasties, relied solely on their fierce military might to achieve their dominance.
Considering what Song Qi just mentioned, that some people in the Western Xia also made a living by farming, it seems that their Sinicization was much deeper than that of the nomadic people in Fusu's impression.
Luckily, I asked specifically, otherwise acting on stereotypes would have ruined things. Fusu thought to himself.
Li Qiu suddenly interjected, "Mr. Song, you just described the Western Xia army as so formidable. Yet, they still made peace with our Great Song."
Song Qi snapped out of his reverie and smiled, "Yes, Li Xiaolang is right." He then asked, "Does Your Highness know why?"
If I knew, I would recite ten pages of the Analects and then ask you? Fusu's eyes clearly conveyed this meaning.
But he still guessed, "They...don't want to fight?"
"It's not that I don't want to, but that I can't."
Song Qi spoke in a calm tone with a hint of boastfulness: "Putting aside the fact that the Liao Dynasty is unwilling to see its former vassals on equal footing with them, they will naturally exert pressure from the outside. The territory of the Western Xia is not even comparable to a single prefecture of our Great Song. One or two surprise attacks may have a miraculous effect, but how can this last?"
Oh, so what Song Qi meant was that the Song Dynasty was tough enough to be used as a tank, and could withstand more wear and tear than the Western Xia.
Fusu, with dead fish eyes: But the wealth of the Great Song Dynasty doesn't really belong to you; it belongs to millions of soldiers and civilians!
He didn't want to dwell on the matter: "Sir, may I ask who the ruler of Western Xia is, and how old he is this year?"
"The ruler of Western Xia is named Li Yuanhao, and he should be forty-five years old this year. Why does Your Highness ask this?"
Fusu quickly changed the subject: "It's nothing, I was just curious whether this person or the Emperor is older."
That's all... yue.
Fusu sometimes admires his own talent for being cute.
Forty-five, forty-five… After class, Fusu was still thinking about Li Yuanhao's age. In later generations, this age would only be considered middle-aged. But in the Qin and Song dynasties, he would be called an old man.
Even if the ruling class had better living conditions, their technological level was limited, so how much better could it be?
Based on this, Fusu deduced that Song Qi's statement might not be entirely accurate. Perhaps the Western Xia not only couldn't fight, but genuinely didn't want to continue the war.
First, Li Yuanhao was no longer young, and his historical death was only a few years away. Older people tend to have more conservative political views. So, would he continue fighting despite his advanced age, or would he be content with his achievements and leave the rest to future generations?
Furthermore, the Zuo Zhuan states, "Barbarians enter China and become Chinese." This is a universally known principle among contemporary scholars and officials. However, the process of "becoming Chinese" was far from the natural process they imagined, like salt dissolving in water; rather, it was a process full of tug-of-war and twists and turns.
If you don't believe it, just look at the Jin and Qing dynasties.
This process would naturally involve a reshuffling of ideologies, a counterattack from the old forces, and ultimately lead to the instability of the regime. In other words, once the boundary between pastoral and agricultural areas is crossed, conquering the new territory becomes an extremely difficult task, and Li Yuanhao may not be willing to take on this hot potato.
It would be better to learn from the Liao Dynasty's advanced experience and obtain a stable annual tribute from the Song Dynasty, gradually strengthening its national power through this financial support. This was undoubtedly the Western Xia's plan. Their trump card, however, was to leverage their past victories to extort money from the Song Dynasty.
So...if I...
feasible!
Fu Su's dark eyes lit up immediately.
Having figured it out, he no longer hesitated and immediately set off for the Funing Palace. Not only was he eager to leave the palace, but Zhao Zongshi's status as a study companion and his leave to visit relatives were still pending approval.
Funing Hall was the emperor's daily residence. Because he preferred tranquility, the area outside Funing Hall was filled with flowers and trees. At the turn of spring and summer, the clusters of flowers and trees were lush and verdant, instantly uplifting one's mood.
Fusu's identity was special, and he could enter the palace without being notified. However, just as he was about to enter, he happened to brush past the eldest princess, Zhao Miaowu, who was leaving the palace.
The two exchanged greetings. Fusu noticed that while they were talking, not only Miaowu, but also Liang Huaiji, who was a few steps behind her, were staring at him with a strange look, seemingly with admiration and a touch of pity.
Fusu: ...?
What happened?
Because he had something on his mind, he didn't think much of it. Standing at the palace gate, he rubbed his round, doughy face a few times until it was rosy and flushed, like a half-ripe peach, so he could use it to act cute later.
She then made a circle with her little hands and breathed into it. After repeating this several times, having mentally prepared herself to be charming and coquettish at her age, she finally called out into the hall, "Your Majesty?"
"...Su'er?"
The Emperor's voice came from inside, sounding somewhat surprised: "Why have you suddenly come to the Funing Palace?"
"I came here on my way after class at Zishantang."
Fusu answered casually, unaware of the hidden meaning in his words.
He was a man of pride and didn't want others to see him acting coquettishly, so he waved his hand and dismissed his attendants. Even the eunuchs who served Emperor Renzong, seeing that the emperor had no objection, followed him away, leaving the father and son to talk.
Fusu looked around and coughed lightly: "Your Majesty, I met someone in the library of Zishan Hall yesterday. Can you guess who I met?"
The official was momentarily dazed: "...Huh? Who?"
Could it be Munemi?
"He's a young man much older than me. I asked him his name, and he said it was Zhao Zongshi. According to seniority, I should call him my cousin, right? Your Majesty, why do you keep such a close watch on this elder brother in the palace, never telling me about him so I can pay my respects?"
This question left Emperor Renzong speechless, and a clear look of guilt appeared in his eyes.
The Emperor had to admit that he had acted improperly, neglecting both children. Leaving aside Zongshi for now, what would Su'er think when he grew up? Would he harbor resentment?
Fusu glanced at the Emperor's expression: There's hope!
He added fuel to the fire, blinking his big, dark eyes a few times—Fusu knew exactly what was cute about him—and threw himself at the Emperor: "Could my cousin Zongshi accompany me? I see he's read books I've never heard of before; he must know a lot."
"Your Majesty, could you allow my cousin, like Li Xiaolang and Yan Qilang, to study with me under Master Song?"
Making the former emperor's adopted son a tutor for his own children caused controversy among Prince Pu, the imperial clan, and the public...
Many thoughts unconsciously flooded the official's mind.
But when faced with that chubby little dumpling who was being affectionate with him, and those big, blinking eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say a word of refusal.
Adding to this was the guilt and unease that welled up in his heart—not just what Fusu had guessed, but also the guilt he felt for the mistaken identity between Zhao Zongshi and the Prince of Cheng.
Even Fusu was unaware that right after he and Miaowu finished talking about their son behind his back, their son appeared before them, stirring up their guilty conscience about talking behind each other's backs.
What was Miaowu's question just now?
"Father, why does Su'er pretend to be ignorant when he is so smart, and refuse to let us know?"
He replied, "It's all because Su'er is precocious, so he doesn't want anyone to know that he's very different from others. Su'er is very perceptive and insightful. If you see him in the future, just pretend you don't know and don't expose him."
Now, the child he described as "sensitive" is willing to show a rare pitiful and adorable side, just to get his nod of approval.
The emperor even began to suspect that Su'er's unusually humble plea was because he had already understood the matters of adopted son versus biological son, and even the difficulties and conflicts involved.
Even so, he still came to Funing Palace.
...Then let him be.
How can a father refuse a son's act of kindness born of compassion?
As soon as Emperor Renzong agreed, Fusu mentally made a small fork in his head.
Yes, it's already halfway done.
He pressed his advantage: "My cousin Zongshi has been living in the palace all this time, so he must miss home and his parents. Anyway, he knows more than me, so missing a few classes won't matter. Why don't I take him back to his home in the Prince of Pu's mansion to see his parents?"
This is where Su'er's thoughtfulness lies.
Emperor Renzong thought to himself.
He was almost certain that Fusu had figured out Zhao Zongshi's true identity and position.
It's certainly inappropriate to use an adopted son as a companion to one's own child, but with His Majesty's most beloved son personally escorting him back to his residence, no one can voice any objections. Prince Cheng, how many people in the world can afford to offend the future Crown Prince?
Emperor Renzong agreed even more readily than the first time, and his gaze toward Fusu was filled with boundless love and a touch of regret.
This child is so sensible that he doesn't know what to say. Is it possible that his precocious intelligence and pure innocence might actually harm him?
Fusu didn't take it to heart.
What he was thinking was: he should let Zhao Zongshi go back to the Prince of Pu's residence for a few days and not go back to the palace with him. That way, when he returned home, he could go to the Xiangguo Temple alone and avoid making other unrelated people take the blame.
Yes, that's a good idea, let's do it that way!
A note from the author:
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Fusu has been exposed once again.
Previously, Emperor Renzong only knew that he was smart and good at studying, but now he also knows that he is sensible and precocious.
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