Chapter 8: Turmoil in the Court

In fact, the historical Gao Qiu and the Gao Qiu depicted in *Water Margin* are two different individuals.

The Gao Taiwei recorded in official history was more of a favored and idle courtier under Emperor Huizong of Song, spending his days parading the imperial troops aimlessly without attending to real affairs.

Assigning a football star as the commander-in-chief of the central army was problematic from the start.

Moreover, our Gao Taiwei was once a scoundrel and a rogue.

Such a person was essentially useless; casting him out of the court would have been no great loss.

Yet, having operated within the capital city for so many years, he had accumulated some prestige and connections.

Naturally, this gave him a place to wield influence.

What kind of office is the Imperial City Office?

It was quite similar to the Ming dynasty’s Embroidered Uniform Guard—an imperial military unit directly under the Song emperor, tasked with supervising the capital and overseeing the troops.

Currently, the Imperial City Office was under the command of Wang Zongchuo, the maternal uncle of Emperor Qinzong Zhao Huan.

Wang Zongchuo was a dissolute scion of a powerful family; he wouldn’t dare even kill a chicken, let alone a person.

Seeing him so cowardly atop the city wall today, Zhao Ning nearly wanted to kick him a few times.

But Gao Qiu was different. Though equally a rake, he had spent many years in the military.

For Zhao Ning, the most important thing now was to have an imperial guard force that would obey orders.

It wasn’t that the previous imperial guards were disobedient, but Wang Zongchuo was too timid. How could they carry out executions?

If the emperor gave an order and the man just stood there frozen, it would be truly embarrassing.

If Gao Qiu dared to stand still, Zhao Ning could always dig up old grievances and eliminate him.

The matter was resolved swiftly. Gao Qiu immediately went to the Imperial City Office to retrieve the official seal.

Then, time to sleep?

No, no—facing such a grave enemy, the emperor was too tense and needed to relax.

He was certainly not indulging in pleasures; rather, he needed to ease his mind to sleep well, and only with good rest could he face the enemy with vigor.

Everything was for the family, the nation, and the realm!

So, Lady Xiao Zhu, here I come!

“Your Majesty, it’s late. Should you not rest?” “Your Majesty, perhaps you should come again tomorrow?” “Your Majesty, when did your hands become so quick at undressing?” “Your Majesty, you braved the wind and snow to visit the city tower by day; shouldn’t you rest now, Your Majesty...?”

Zhao Ning suddenly thought this world was not entirely a pit of despair.

Outside, the snow fell thicker, while the fires in the Jin army’s camp beyond the city burned brightly.

The tents glowed faintly from the fires within, stretching in undulating lines.

Patrolling Jin soldiers paced back and forth, inspecting every corner and casting fierce glances toward the towers of Dongjing.

Nightfall cloaked this greatest and most prosperous city in the world.

The southern gate of the palace was the Xuande Gate, and to its east was the Zuoye Gate.

Prime Minister He Li’s residence lay in that vicinity.

The Northern Song was a remarkable era; real estate prices in Dongjing often exceeded 5,000 guan (about 2.5 million yuan).

Better locations went for over 10,000 guan (around 5 million yuan).

Many officials, even high-ranking ones, could not afford homes; Su Shi spent most of his life as a tenant.

By Emperor Shenzong’s reign, even the emperor grew displeased that some prime ministers rented homes—this was a matter of national dignity.

Thus, a cluster of luxurious mansions was built near Zuoye Gate, designated for prime ministers and officials of equivalent rank.

Of course, due to the frequent turnover of prime ministers in the Song dynasty, the ownership of these mansions changed often.

He Li was the top scholar in the imperial examination of the fifth year of Zhenghe.

Incidentally, another historic figure, Qin Hui, passed the examination that year as well, though not as top scholar — He Li took that honor.

At this time, He Li held the position of Right Deputy Minister of the Secretariat and concurrently served as Deputy Minister of the Central Secretariat.

The Right Deputy Minister was akin to the vice premier of the Council of State; as long as the Left Deputy Minister was not appointed, he effectively served as the premier.

Qin Hui was then still working at the Censorate as Deputy Chief Censor.

This exemplified how much the Song dynasty valued examination results.

What sort of man was He Li?

Frankly, he was misplaced; he lacked the ability to be prime minister.

Objectively, Qin Hui was much more capable, though utterly lacking in integrity.

Why was He Li unfit to be prime minister?

Guo Jing was brought in by him and Sun Fu!

The political scene during the Jingkang era was extremely complex, with two main factions in court: one pro-war, the other pro-peace.

The pro-peace faction remained consistent—the likes of Geng Nanzhong, Tang Ke, Li Bangyan, Zhang Bangchang, and Mo Chou.

But the pro-war faction kept changing; from the beginning to the end of the year, nearly an entirely new group had taken its place.

At the start of the year, the pro-war faction consisted of genuinely capable men like Li Gang and Zhong Shidao.

By year’s end, Li Gang was dismissed, Zhong Shidao had died, and the pro-war faction was led by incompetents like He Li and Sun Fu.

Fortunately, there were still true veterans like Zhang Shuye within the city’s pro-war camp.

At this moment, Xu Bingzhe, acting prefect of Kaifeng, hurried to He Li’s mansion, anxious and flustered.

Historically, Xu Bingzhe was shameless to the extreme; when the Jin army entered the city, he was the first to assist them in seizing women and valuables, a typical traitor.

Xu Bingzhe spoke in panic: “Prime Minister He, bad news! Bad news!”

He Li calmly lifted a cup of hot tea and sipped: “What’s got you all flustered?”

“Sun Fu has been arrested! Guo Jing has been executed!”

He Li’s hand trembled; he suddenly stood, face changing drastically: “What did you say?”

“Sun Fu has been caught, and Guo Da Xian has been executed! What are we to do?”

“Who did it?”

As soon as He Li asked, he realized the question was pointless.

Sun Fu was deputy director of the Privy Council and commander of the imperial guards; Guo Jing was the emperor’s recommended military commander.

Who but the emperor could have executed Guo Jing?

But this defied logic!

Why would the emperor execute Guo Jing?

Wasn’t everything fine before?

Had the pro-peace faction whispered in the emperor’s ear again, causing him to change his mind?

Xu Bingzhe said, “Yes, Your Majesty. Around dusk, the emperor went to the city gates and afterward executed Guo Da Xian and arrested Sun Fu, who is now in the Ministry of Justice’s prison.”

“Disaster! Disaster!” He Li quickly put down his tea and rose, instructing his servant, “Change clothes—quickly!”

“Prime Minister He, where are you going?”

“To present myself at court!”

The emperor suddenly arresting Sun Fu and executing Guo Jing—this could only mean the pro-peace faction was scheming.

Was He Li a staunch pro-war advocate?

Not really.

His pro-war stance was a political means to gain power, nothing more.

He had no concrete military strategy; if he did, he wouldn’t have pushed forward someone like Guo Jing, a charlatan.

Now, faced with this sudden shift, he first sensed political struggle rather than reflecting on his own actions.

He suspected it was the work of Geng Nanzhong’s faction whispering to the emperor again.

Dressed in his official robes, He Li left his home and hurried toward the palace.

Zuoye Gate was not far from the palace gates.

When he arrived seeking an audience, he was told the emperor had already retired and was seeing no one.

Eventually, using his connections, He Li met Wang Huaiji, who told him, “Prime Minister He, the emperor is truly resting; we must wait for the morning court.”

“There is a morning court?”

“Yes, the morning court will convene tomorrow. I was about to send word to officials.”

He Li left in frustration.

Meanwhile, news of Sun Fu’s arrest and Guo Jing’s execution had spread throughout Dongjing, especially in official circles.

The late Northern Song’s capital was rife with factional strife, mutual surveillance, intelligence gathering, and rumor-mongering.

This was a legacy of the partisan conflicts during Wang Anshi’s reform era, with reformists and conservatives each rallying their banners and muddying the political atmosphere.

The pro-peace faction swiftly sensed the political winds from Guo Jing’s death.

A month earlier, their leader Tang Ke had been dismissed, the emperor’s tutor Geng Nanzhong removed, and the prodigal prime minister Li Bangyan exiled to Mingdao Palace in Bozhou.

The pro-peace faction was temporarily suppressed, and the pro-war faction ascended.

But everyone knew that Emperor Zhao was not a firm pro-war supporter; his war stance was a reluctant, temporary measure.

He had long vacillated between war and peace.

Suddenly arresting the backbone of the pro-war faction and executing Guo Jing suggested the emperor might be shifting toward peace.