Chapter 3: In Turbulent Times, Stern Measures Are Essential

At that moment, a young eunuch hurried in from outside. Seeing the tense atmosphere in the hall, he dared not speak, but his anxious expression betrayed his concern as he glanced repeatedly at Zhao Huan. Zhao Huan’s personal attendant rushed over, and the two whispered quietly for a moment.

The attendant quickly relayed the young eunuch’s message to Zhao Huan.

“Guards, drag this man out and behead him,” Zhao Huan commanded the attendants on either side.

The messenger was struck dumb with terror and immediately fell to his knees, pleading for mercy.

“The battle is imminent, and this man dares to sow discord among the troops. Take him away and execute him. From now on, anyone who dares suggest surrender or fleeing will meet the same fate as this table.” As he spoke, Zhao Huan seized a precious sword from the eunuch’s hands and, with a sudden flourish, sliced off a corner of the table before him. The sharp sound echoed through the hall.

The severed table edge fell to the ground with a crisp clang, like a heavy hammer striking the hearts of the assembled officials.

“Your Majesty, spare me, spare me! I am but a messenger!” the eunuch’s desperate cries reverberated through the hall, but the guards paid them no heed. They dragged him outside, and with a swift stroke, ended his life—the sound abruptly ceased.

Many among the court had favored peace, but after witnessing Zhao Huan’s resolve, they wisely held their tongues.

“Is the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Revenue present?” Zhao Huan addressed the assembly.

“At your service, Your Majesty,” an elderly middle-aged man stepped forward.

“The soldiers are fighting on the front lines. I have but one demand: the supply of provisions to the troops must be guaranteed. Anyone who hinders this effort will be dealt with according to military law!” Zhao Huan fixed his gaze on the old man before him.

This old man was none other than Zhu Mian, one of the Six Traitors of the Northern Song. Zhu Mian had been favored during the reign of Zhao Ji but cared little for Zhao Huan. He had yet to fully accept the new emperor’s authority.

Upon hearing Zhao Huan’s words, he could not help but grimace and said, “Your Majesty, the state treasury is truly empty.”

“Must I resolve such matters for you? In my opinion, you are no longer needed as Assistant Minister of Revenue.” Zhao Huan, well aware of Zhu Mian’s true nature—harmless in appearance but a consummate villain—was prepared to make Zhu Mian the first target of his new reign.

Zhu Mian’s face flushed a deep shade of red as he gritted his teeth and replied, “Your Majesty, it is not that I wish to hinder the cause. Even the most resourceful woman cannot cook without rice. The treasury is empty; even if I desire to serve the nation, I am powerless.”

Zhu Mian intended to challenge Zhao Huan.

“If you cannot fulfill your duty, then you are unfit for your post. Guards, proclaim my decree: Zhu Mian, for defying imperial orders, is stripped of his rank, banished from the capital with his entire family, and forbidden from holding office in future generations. All his property is to be confiscated and turned over to the state treasury.” Zhao Huan allowed no room for repentance, sealing Zhu Mian’s fate then and there.

“What?” Zhu Mian was stunned; he had never imagined the new emperor would act so ruthlessly. A mere hint of reluctance had cost him his office.

“Your Majesty, I acknowledge my guilt! I beseech you to remember my years of diligent service to the Great Song and show mercy!” Zhu Mian, now desperate, fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness.

“Diligent service?” Zhao Huan sneered, as if waiting for this very plea. He drew a memorial from his sleeve and tossed it before Zhu Mian with a snap, commanding sternly, “Read it aloud!”

Staring at the memorial, Zhu Mian was truly terrified. A glance at its contents prompted him to knock his head on the floor repeatedly, murmuring, “I acknowledge my guilt, I acknowledge my guilt...”

“You, read it!” Zhao Huan pointed to a nearby eunuch.

The attendant was bewildered; after serving his master for so long, he had never seen such decisiveness. Before now, Zhao Huan had always been timid and hesitant, never so resolute.

“What, you refuse to read?” Zhao Huan’s cold voice made the eunuch quail. He hastily picked up the memorial and, trembling, began to recite: “During the Consolidation era, established the Yingfeng Bureau in Suzhou, misused public funds, sought every means to extort, forcibly acquired precious stones—this is crime one; seized wealth through cunning and force, amassed vast private assets, lived in excess—crime two; promoted sycophants, dismissed those not in favor, proclaimed a ‘Southern Court’—crime three...”

By the end, the eunuch was sweating profusely, wiping his brow as he read aloud. Zhao Huan had listed only eight charges, but any one was enough to warrant execution.

Zhu Mian was now utterly terrified; should these charges be upheld, not even ten heads would save him.

“Your Majesty, the acquisition of precious stones was at the order of the late emperor. I acted only under command...”

“Insolence! How dare you criticize the emperor! Drag this traitor to the marketplace and execute him in public as a warning to all. Confiscate all his property.” Zhao Huan’s decisive actions left the assembled officials dumbfounded. Now, everyone understood: this emperor was no naive novice, but rather, he seemed to have prepared for his ascension long in advance.

Zhu Mian tried to protest, but the guards did not give him the chance. They dragged him away, leaving only his fading pleas until his voice was lost altogether.

Inside the hall, silence reigned; every official bowed his head, fearing that the emperor’s next purge might fall upon him.

In troubled times, harsh measures are necessary! Zhao Huan had devised this strategy the previous night; for now, the urgent task was to repel the Jin invaders.

With Zhu Mian dealt with, Zhao Huan seemed to transform, seating himself on his dragon throne and addressing the ministers: “Where is the Minister of Works?”

No answer came from the hall; after a long pause, a man in his fifties emerged timidly from the crowd and knelt before Zhao Huan, saying, “Your Majesty, the Minister of Works has always been Grand Steward Li Yan, who departed with the late emperor.”

Zhao Huan nodded and asked, “Is that so? And who are you? What is your position?”

“Your Majesty, I am Zong Ze, Assistant Minister of Works,” the man replied, his voice trembling. As Assistant Minister, this was his first chance to speak directly with the emperor, and he could not help but feel nervous.