Chapter 12: There Are Still No Rules in This Courtroom

Some people have no real skills, yet when it comes to discussing issues, they immediately position themselves on a moral high ground, wearing a facade of “I’m doing this for your own good,” as if merely debating with them makes you the one at fault.

Dealing with such people is simple: focus solely on the matter at hand and don’t let them distract you with anything else!

When it comes to standing up to others, Zhao Ning is not someone to be trifled with.

Song Emperor Qin Zong Zhao Huan had no way to deal with you all, but do you think I can’t handle you?

Xu Bingzhe continued, gritting his teeth, “Your Majesty, with the current military strength within the city, we simply cannot match the Jin forces. Negotiating peace is the only viable option.”

To be honest, Xu Bingzhe regretted stepping into this trap himself, but at this moment, he had no way out.

He could only grit his teeth and press on.

His confidence stemmed from the fact that most officials in the court favored peace.

Moreover, even if he offended the emperor, he believed the worst that could happen was dismissal from his post, not complete removal from office.

This had generally been the precedent.

As long as one wasn’t opposed by the majority in the court, demotion rarely occurred.

This was one of the political realities of the Song Dynasty, one of the ways the Zhao emperors managed their ministers.

Overall, political struggles during the Northern Song era maintained a relatively high moral baseline.

Besides, given the current reality, there was no hope of victory; even if the emperor lost his temper temporarily, peace negotiations would still have to follow, and Xu Bingzhe would remain safe.

“Zhang Shuye,” Zhao Ning’s tone softened.

Zhang Shuye stepped forward and said, “Present, Your Majesty.”

Everyone’s gaze shifted to Zhang Shuye.

Wasn’t the emperor confronting Xu Bingzhe just now?

Why had he suddenly called Zhang Shuye forward?

No one could understand.

Zhao Ning asked, “You once served in Qin Feng Circuit?”

(Qin Feng Circuit was one of the twenty-four circuits of the Northern Song, roughly equivalent to a province, located around Shaanxi and parts of what later became Gansu.)

“Your Majesty, I previously served as an assistant military commissioner in Lanzhou.”

“Did you hold any other military posts?”

“I once served as the military commissioner of Ansu Army.”

Ansu Army was a regional military district of the Song Dynasty, located in Xuzhou.

(Below circuits were prefectures and military districts; here, ‘army’ refers to a local military garrison, such as Ansu Army.)

By stating he was the military commissioner of Ansu Army, Zhang Shuye indicated he was in charge of that military district, much like a prefect governs a prefecture.

This was a military-political position.

“Then answer me this question.”

“Please, Your Majesty, do speak.”

“What is the proper way to deal with wavering morale on the battlefield?”

The moment the emperor spoke, others immediately understood why Zhang Shuye had been summoned.

Zhang Shuye’s heart jolted, but he quickly gathered his thoughts and replied, “According to military law, the punishment is death by beheading.”

“Good! Someone, drag Xu Bingzhe out and behead him!”

Xu Bingzhe was stunned, as were the other ministers.

They almost thought they heard wrongly.

What? The emperor intended to execute a minister?

In the Song Dynasty, executing a minister was a sensitive matter that struck at the scholarly elite’s nerves.

One of the fundamental customs of the Song was to spare civil officials.

But not absolutely.

During the reigns of Zhao Kuangyin and Zhao Guangyi, quite a few ministers were executed.

In Emperor Shenzong’s time, during Wang Anshi’s reforms, Su Shi was constantly at odds with factions—today opposing conservatives, tomorrow criticizing reformers—earning the disdain of both sides and nearly losing his life in the Wutai Poetry Case.

Later, at the founding of the Southern Song, Zhao Gou also executed numerous ministers.

This proved that if the Zhao emperors truly wished to execute ministers, they could do so—provided the reasons were sufficient.

Besides, the political situation was now exceptionally grave.

Wen Yanbo once told Emperor Shenzong that the emperor and scholar-officials jointly governed the realm.

But the problem was: what had these scholar-officials done to the realm? The Jin forces had already reached the gates of Dongjing!

And yet you still have the nerve to bring these matters before me?

This colossal national defense crisis had severely shaken previous political structures.

In peaceful times, it was difficult to move against these scholar-officials.

But now, with the country devastated—first, Zhao Ning himself had thrown caution to the wind, unwilling to live in a five-star hut in the north; second, countless people in Dongjing staunchly supported war; third, the main conflict had shifted from internal power struggles to that between the Song and Jin states—so internal killings had less impact.

In such an immense crisis, executing a surrender advocate, while shocking the peace faction, aligned with the war faction’s wishes.

Politics is, at its core, the minority obeying the majority.

As long as it stays within this framework, executing someone is like killing a chicken.

Though there were few war advocates in court, many existed in the Song armies.

The renowned Song Western Army and Southeast forces, though Hebei and Hedong’s three garrisons had fallen, their soldiers and civilians fought desperately.

Zong Ze, stationed nearby in Cizhou, Hebei, and the soon-to-rise generals Yue Fei and Han Shizhong were all staunch war advocates.

At present, Zhang Shuye was also firmly in the war camp.

What did Zhao Ning fear in executing a surrender advocate?

With righteousness in hand and popular support secured, he could kill as he wished.

Moreover, it was Zhang Shuye who spoke of executing him; the emperor merely asked how it should be handled.

This is the essence of imperial power—there are thresholds and methods for executions.

Thus, when Zhang Shuye answered the emperor’s question, he too was biting his lip, fully aware that he was deeply offending the peace faction.

But he had to speak, as this was clearly stipulated military law.

To say otherwise would be to accuse the emperor of folly.

From Zhao Ning’s perspective, by using Zhang Shuye’s words to execute Xu Bingzhe, he utterly alienated the peace faction, with no chance for reconciliation.

The court needed a new balance.

After all, political balance was the most fundamental political tool.

“Your Majesty, have mercy!” Xu Bingzhe was genuinely terrified now; he never expected to face execution.

The dynasty favored scholars and officials.

But that was in times of peace, when civil governance was paramount.

Now, in these turbulent times—with the north ravaged and so many dead, including both civil and military officials—harsh punishments were not to be taken lightly.

Wang Shiyong immediately stepped forward, saying, “Your Majesty...”

“Silence! Do not interrupt me!” Zhao Ning snapped.

Yet Wang Shiyong pressed on, “Your Majesty, Prefect Xu did not mean it that way; he is not a military or political official, so...”

“Did I allow you to speak? Are there no rules in this court? Am I still your emperor? If not, I shall abdicate, and you, Wang Shiyong, may take my place!”

Wang Shiyong was frightened and hurriedly said, “Your Majesty, please calm your anger. I dare not, I dare not.”

Others who had intended to speak fell silent upon witnessing the emperor’s outburst.

The Song Dynasty had enjoyed long periods of peace, and people grew complacent in such times.

“Wang Zongchuo! Drag Xu Bingzhe out and execute him on the spot to boost troop morale!”

Wang Zongchuo, commander of the palace guards, was stunned, instantly feeling countless resentful gazes piercing him.

These scholar-officials were fierce; even he, as a royal relative, dared not offend them lightly.

The scholar-officials wielded the pen that could destroy a man’s reputation.

Public opinion was entirely controlled by these scholars.

So he stood frozen, pretending not to hear the emperor’s words.

Other officials seemed to silently say: Wang Zongchuo, if you dare act today, we’ll rise against you and drown you in our spit!

The atmosphere suddenly thickened.

To protect himself, Wang Zongchuo feigned fainting and collapsed to the ground.

Wang Zongchuo thought: Your Majesty, if you push me any further, I’ll faint for real!