Chapter 107: Seizing Power

At this moment, Zhao Ji had effectively repositioned himself back into the role of Emperor.

"I obey your command, Your Majesty. I shall attend to it immediately." Qin Hui felt elated, though he kept his expression neutral; with Li Gang brought down, his own opportunity had finally arrived.

Zhao Ji did not even bother to visit the Daqing Hall to confirm whether Zhao Huan was truly incapacitated. Perhaps he did not wish to verify it, or perhaps he was simply so intoxicated by the joy of reclaiming the throne that his judgment was clouded.

Emerging from the Longde Palace, surrounded by civil and military officials, Zhao Ji returned once more to the imperial court. Seated upon the familiar dragon throne, he could not help but feel a sense of sentimentality—after such a long and winding journey, he had finally reclaimed his seat.

"Let Wang Lun be appointed as envoy to the Jin Kingdom to negotiate a peace treaty," Zhao Ji decreed.

Wang Lun was the great-great-grandson of Wang Xu, the younger brother of the esteemed Wang Dan. Among the officials, Wang Lun was a subject of much criticism; while he committed no major crimes, he was perpetually embroiled in minor ones, frequently flouting the law. Fortunately, he remained unscathed, protected by the reputation of his ancestors.

Zhao Ji chose him for this mission partly because of his audacity—others might have shirked the duty out of fear—and partly because Wang Lun was genuinely capable and eloquent. It was Zhao Ji's hope that his skills would facilitate a successful peace agreement.

"Your Majesty, what are the bottom-line terms for these negotiations?" Wang Lun stepped forward to inquire.

"As long as the Jin army retreats, I am prepared to agree to terms regarding annual tributes, the ceding of territory, and the submission of vassal status," Zhao Ji replied.

Hearing this, Li Gang was struck with panic. He rushed forward to protest: "Your Majesty, this must not be! Ceding land to seek peace is like fighting a fire with firewood; if we cede five cities today and another five tomorrow, how many cities of our Great Song will suffice to satisfy the greed of the Jin?"

Zhao Ji glared at Li Gang. "It was your constant goading of Huan'er to wage war that led to this current predicament. Guards, seize Li Gang! Strip him of his titles as Minister of the Ministry of War and Commissioner of the Privy Council, and escort him to the Dali Temple to await trial."

Li Gang had not expected Zhao Ji to target him first. Stunned, he hurriedly pleaded, "Your Majesty, pray reflect! Our military currently holds the upper hand in the war against the Jin. We need only conscript an additional hundred thousand men to reinforce Guanzhong, and we shall certainly resolve this crisis."

"Take him away!" Zhao Ji did not grant him another word, waving his hand dismissively.

Witnessing this, Wang Lun spoke up: "Your Majesty, Minister Li is a man of unwavering loyalty who advocates for national defense. He has committed no wrong. With the patriotic fervor against the Jin running high throughout the country, arresting him in such a rash manner will surely incite widespread resentment."

Wang Fu waved a hand at Wang Lun’s interjection. "These are not matters for you to consider. Your primary task is to finalize the negotiations with the Jin. Guanzhong has fallen, and the western gate of our empire lies open. If you fail to secure this peace, our situation will be dire."

Wang Lun felt stifled. He, too, had favored resistance, but with Li Gang—the leader of the war faction—thrown into prison, his own voice was insignificant. With the government once again under the thumb of Wang Fu, perhaps all he could do was facilitate the peace talks and attempt to salvage whatever benefits he could for the Song.

"I shall write a personal letter," Zhao Ji told Wang Lun. "Deliver it to Wanyan Zonghan, and have him pass it to Wanyan Wugimai. So long as the Jin army withdraws, I am willing to submit to them as a vassal."

"Your Majesty, this must never be!" Many of the ministers cried out in opposition.

For an Emperor to submit as a vassal meant that Zhao Ji would essentially become a servant to the Jin, and by extension, they, his officials, would be servants of a servant. Since the days of the Qin and Han dynasties, such a thing had never occurred in the history of the Middle Kingdom, and the ministers found it utterly unacceptable.

As for ceding land and paying reparations, they were less concerned; the Song was wealthy, and money was abundant. As for territory, the empire was vast, and a city or two mattered little. But the shame of vassalage was a matter of face that they could not abide.

"Hmph! If the Jin army marches straight to the capital, the nation will cease to exist. How then would I even be able to call myself Emperor?" Zhao Ji retorted angrily before turning to leave.

The ministers exchanged uneasy glances. The implication was clear: if the Jin army overran the country and the Song fell, they would not even have the chance to be officials at all.

Upon leaving the court, Zhao Ji intended to visit his dying son, but he was blocked at the gates of the Daqing Hall.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you dare block me?" Zhao Ji demanded, his face darkening.

The man blocking his path was Zhang Xian, commander of the Imperial Guard. Fully aware of the events in the court, Zhang Xian remained loyal only to Zhao Huan and held little regard for Zhao Ji. Ignoring the former Emperor’s fury, he bowed and said, "Your Majesty, the Emperor has given me strict orders that no one is to enter."

"Hmph! Does he mean to forbid even me?" Zhao Ji glared at him.

Zhang Xian nodded silently.

This infuriated Zhao Ji. Wang Fu, who had accompanied him, pointed at the commander. "Audacious! To be so disrespectful to His Majesty—do you value your head so little?"

Zhang Xian cast a look of contempt at Wang Fu. "Minister Wang, you accuse me falsely. I am most respectful to the Emperor, and I am merely following his orders."

Wang Fu pointed a finger at Zhang Xian’s nose and scolded him loudly, "You block-headed fool! The Crown Prince is on his deathbed, and His Majesty is returning to power. For this behavior, you don't have enough heads to pay the price!"

Zhang Xian grinned. "Minister Wang, do not trouble yourself with my life. You would do well to worry about your own."

Hearing this, Wang Fu’s heart skipped a beat. A dark premonition washed over him. He exchanged a look with Zhao Ji; having served together for years, he knew exactly what the Emperor was thinking.

Could it be that Zhao Huan was only feigning illness, and in reality, was perfectly fine?

Realizing this possibility, Wang Fu’s complexion paled.

"Hmph, we shall see!" Wang Fu whispered to Zhao Ji, effectively dissuading him from trying to see Zhao Huan.

"Your Majesty," Wang Fu whispered, "if the Crown Prince is merely feigning illness, then given his nature, our lives are in great danger!"