Chapter 23: The True Purpose

The Inner Treasury was where the emperor kept his private funds, which inevitably raises the question: did the emperor ever lack money? The answer is yes—he lacked it desperately.

People often say the emperor is as wealthy as the four seas, that all the riches under heaven are his. The sentiment is there, but reality is quite different. Ordinarily, if the emperor wanted to spend money, he'd first turn to the Inner Treasury, and next to the Ministry of Revenue's state coffers.

In times of peace, with a frugal emperor on the throne, the regular allocations from the Ministry of Revenue, combined with income from imperial estates, would be more than sufficient. But Emperor Huizong was different. Aside from state affairs, there was hardly a vice or indulgence he did not favor, and he spent gold as if it were water.

It was precisely these "good habits" of Emperor Huizong that gave rise to so many corrupt officials in his administration. The so-called "Six Great Villains of the Northern Song," the frequent uprisings—all of it could be traced back to Emperor Huizong Zhao Ji as the true architect of Northern Song’s downfall.

Without spelling it out, Li Yan merely mentioned the Inner Treasury, and Zhao Yu immediately understood. Yet even with this understanding, when it came time to act, he knew he would need to employ certain methods, lest he bring trouble upon himself.

Seeing that Zhao Yu understood his meaning, Li Yan suddenly changed the subject: “Your Highness, do you know who stands behind the Crown Prince?”

Because he disliked the man, Zhao Yu had never paid much attention to Zhao Huan’s affairs. If Zhao Huan hadn’t repeatedly targeted him, he wouldn’t have bothered at all with that petty-minded fellow.

Hearing Li Yan’s question, Zhao Yu searched his memory for what he knew about Zhao Huan, and suddenly it clicked. He blurted out, “Minister Li, are you referring to Liang Shicheng?”

Li Yan raised his thumb in approval. “As expected, nothing escapes Your Highness. It is indeed him. This villain is a master of flattery and sycophancy. In the emperor’s eyes, his standing far surpasses my own. You must be wary of this man.”

At this, Li Yan exaggeratedly glanced left and right, then leaned closer to Zhao Yu and lowered his voice. “He has committed countless evils. Should anything untoward befall him one day, it would surely bring joy to the people.”

Though Zhao Yu and Li Yan were seated in a private room, with two guards standing outside the door, making eavesdropping impossible, Li Yan still adopted this secretive posture. Partly, it was caution; but clearly, it was also meant as a hint to Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu understood. His dealings with the likes of Lu Zhishen and Lin Chong could hardly be concealed from those who cared to know—especially since Lu Zhishen had once kidnapped Gao Qiu, a crime bordering on the audacious. If such men were to strike again and rid the court of Liang Shicheng, it would not be out of the question.

It was clear that Li Yan had deliberately revealed Liang Shicheng’s support for Zhao Huan as a warning: this man would be the stumbling block in Zhao Yu’s path to power and must be removed.

Meeting Li Yan’s deep and venomous gaze, Zhao Yu considered for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “Let’s drink, let’s drink—the dishes are getting cold.”

Li Yan was momentarily taken aback, a flash of dissatisfaction in his eyes. But seeing that Zhao Yu clearly wished to drop the subject, he forced a laugh. “Yes, yes, let’s drink...”

The night air was cold, blowing away what little wine-induced warmth remained. Zhao Yu rode slowly, Li Yan’s words still echoing in his mind.

He sensed that all the secret things he had done—by now, aside from the emperor himself, men like Gao Qiu, Cai Jing, and even Li Yan were all probably aware. Some kept silent out of a desire to protect him, others only because they wished to keep such knowledge as leverage, weapons to use should Zhao Yu threaten their interests or refuse their demands.

Perhaps no one would have guessed that, one day, even if no one spoke, Zhao Yu would find a way to let his imperial father know himself. After all, if he didn’t provoke the emperor, how could he hope to be sent away from the capital?

But for now, that was impossible. Zhao Yu’s wings were not yet fully grown, his fortune not yet amassed. He still had to tread carefully among these powerful men.

Assassination was the worst option, and the one most likely to bring disaster upon himself—which was why Zhao Yu had no intention of following Li Yan’s suggestion.

After considering Li Yan and Liang Shicheng, Zhao Yu’s thoughts turned to Cai Jing. The old fox had done nothing since sending someone to prompt Zhao Yu to offer a voluntary confession. Zhao Yu, for his part, had made no effort to seek him out, so that it seemed as if there had never been any contact between them at all.

Yet Zhao Yu knew: with someone as cunning as Cai Jing, he would never act unless success was certain. If he was willing to help Zhao Yu, it must be for reasons similar to Li Yan’s. Should Zhao Yu take the initiative to visit him?

He pondered for a moment, a faint, meaningful smile appearing on his lips...

Yang Xu had been waiting in the reception hall of Zhao Yu’s residence for most of the day. In the past, he would have left in a huff long ago, but after learning that Zhao Yu was dining with Li Yan, he patiently remained.

Curiosity is a trait common to all. Though Yang Xu had always worked with Zhao Huan to hinder Zhao Yu, he had never truly considered what kind of person Zhao Yu was.

Now, sitting alone in the Prince Yi’s reception hall, scenes from Zhao Yu’s life flashed before his eyes: the empress’s favorite son, indifferent to advancement, secretly consorting with men of the martial world, seemingly without ambition, yet with mysterious forces gathering in the shadows. What was he really after?

Such is the nature of people: once a thought gets stuck, the more puzzling it becomes, the more one dwells on it. Night fell, the tea lost its flavor, and even hunger faded away.

Zhao Yu had not expected Yang Xu to wait for him, especially as it was nearly the hour of the dog—wasn’t he worried his wife would be concerned?

Upon questioning a maid, Zhao Yu learned that Yang Xu hadn’t even had dinner. Hastily, he ordered a meal to be brought to the reception hall. After exchanging empty pleasantries with Li Yan, Zhao Yu himself had eaten little.

“Forgive me for making you wait,” Zhao Yu said, entering with a cupped-fist salute, offering no further explanation.

Yang Xu stood and returned the salute. “It was presumptuous of me. I hope Your Highness will forgive my conduct earlier today.”

Zhao Yu laughed. “I am not one to bear grudges. As it happens, I only picked at my food while drinking with Li Yan. Let’s have a few more cups together—please, sit!”

He took a seat beside Yang Xu, not at the host’s main seat.

In these small details, whether in speech or action, Yang Xu found his understanding of the Prince of Yi quietly changing.

Soon after Yang Xu sat, four simple dishes were served.

Before Yang Xu could ask, Zhao Yu smiled and spoke first: “I prefer plain food—please forgive me, Yang. If there’s anything you wish to eat, just say the word and it will be prepared for you.”

Yang Xu quickly demurred. As soon as the food and wine were set before him, he could not help but ask, “May I ask, Your Highness, what do you wish me to do?”

Zhao Yu studied him for a moment before replying, “I plan to do two things: first, to hold a national cuju league; second, to establish a network of runner services connecting every region of the country.

“To speak frankly, the goal of both is to make money. Think, Yang—how can you help me?”

Though trust should be given freely to those employed, their relationship was not yet close enough for Zhao Yu to reveal his true intentions. Even so, Yang Xu was left utterly astonished...