Auspicious clouds veiled the wind towers, and blessed mist wrapped the dragon halls.
The imperial palace of Bianliang did not possess the ancient gravity of Luoyang or Chang'an. Yet after successive expansions through the Later Liang, Later Jin, Later Han, and Later Zhou, the palace complex had grown into something dignified and complete in its own right.
Because the waterways fed the transport system, Bianliang's prosperity already surpassed both Luoyang and Chang'an. This alone made it a place Zhao Pu greatly favored.
Walking slowly along the palace corridor, he listened to the faint cries of vendors drifting over the outer walls. For no clear reason, his mind returned to the expression Prince Jin had worn earlier upon seeing the edict that sealed his fate.
First confusion.
Then fury.
At last, only resignation remained.
Zhao Pu almost smiled.
Of course, he could no longer be called Prince Jin. From now on, he must be addressed as Master Kongjiong.
The thought brightened Zhao Pu's mood considerably. He even felt like humming.
From Prince Zhao Guangyi to Monk Kongjiong, the implication for the court was unmistakable. The Son of Heaven had made his stance on succession perfectly clear.
With internal danger removed, the court could finally unite its strength. First pacify the realm, then restore unity. Secure the south and north, push west into the Western Regions, and revive the martial prestige of Han and Tang.
Perhaps they could even surpass those dynasties.
With the fertile black-soil lands anchoring Liaodong, with sea routes stabilizing the southern oceans, a new foundation could be forged, one worthy of later generations' admiration.
He still remembered what he had seen on the luminous screen. That great salvaged vessel from the southern seas. If such a ship could be reproduced, it would serve as an ideal model for future maritime expansion.
Only when he came back to himself did Zhao Pu realize his lips had curled upward without his noticing. He rubbed his cheek and let out a small, helpless chuckle.
"To establish new achievements, one must first restore the old ones."
The "old achievement" was obvious. The reunification of the realm.
In practical terms, that meant the destruction of Southern Tang.
Back in the tenth month of the previous year, Cao Bin had first captured Chizhou. Then he massed troops at Caishiji, defeated Southern Tang forces again, built a floating bridge, and successfully crossed the Yangtze.
With the Yangtze barrier lost, anyone with eyes could see that the fall of Southern Tang was only a matter of time.
Thus in the eleventh month, the Emperor issued another firm command. The three invasion routes advanced simultaneously. Over three months of reports from Cao Bin described victories at Xinzai, Ezhou, Changzhou, Licheng Fortress, Fanshan Fortress, and Lishui.
In his dispatches, Cao Bin had repeatedly praised the Emperor's judgment, noting that Li Yu's trusted general Zhu Lingyun was indeed incompetent.
Yet after so many defeats, the Southern Tang forces had learned their lesson. They no longer sought field battles. Instead, they withdrew behind city walls, determined to defend their strongholds.
Under such circumstances, the western army now faced one obstacle above all others.
Jiangning.
The city of Jiangning, known later as Nanjing, was a fortress whose strength was no exaggeration. Since the days when Sun Quan of Wu built Stone City near the Qinhuai River's mouth, the settlement had always possessed double walls. During the Eastern Jin and Southern Dynasties, the city expanded repeatedly while preserving the old foundations. Its palace enclosure alone stretched eight li around with triple defenses.
After the Tang collapsed, both the Yang Wu and Southern Tang regimes further strengthened Jiangning. The city had enjoyed relative peace while the rest of the realm burned, and that peace had allowed continuous reinforcement.
To call it high-walled and deep-moated was no empty phrase.
Zhao Pu and Zhao Kuangyin did not know how history would record the Northern Song's conquest of Southern Tang. But from what they could see now, only one method seemed feasible.
Siege.
Draw upon the grain of Qiantang, gather elite imperial troops, surround the city for a year or more, and wait until morale inside collapsed.
That had been their best conclusion.
But today was different.
Recalling what he had heard earlier from the teachings attributed to the great strategist, Zhao Pu quickened his pace.
He reached a branching corridor and turned left. After passing another gate, he arrived at the Ministry of Works compound, recently reorganized by imperial order and temporarily overseen by Prince Zhao Dezhao.
Zhao Pu spotted him at once.
The prince was in the courtyard practicing martial movements.
"Your Highness."
Zhao Dezhao stopped, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and smiled awkwardly.
"It is the New Year season. I had nothing to do sitting idle, so I came here to stretch my limbs."
He paused, then added with a hint of curiosity,
"Did Prime Minister Zhao come to consult the armory records or urge military production?"
For a chief minister to visit outside formal hours, Zhao Dezhao could think of no other reason.
But Zhao Pu shook his head.
"I asked His Majesty where Your Highness would be. I came specifically to see you."
Zhao Dezhao led him inside to the main hall. Once seated, the prince's curiosity deepened. He thought for a moment, then sighed and shook his head.
"I have already sought out every known bell-caster in Bianliang. I have also consulted many Daoists skilled in alchemy."
"My father's ideas about gunpowder have yielded some results under their attempts. But as for this cannon device, we are still groping in the dark."
"I came here today precisely because progress is slow. I cannot help Father much, and it weighs on me."
The frustration on his face was genuine.
He could feel his father's expectations rising sharply. Yet the Ministry's new responsibilities remained vague. Everything hinged on creating this mysterious cannon first.
But after working with the craftsmen himself, Zhao Dezhao now understood just how difficult that task truly was.
They had only the Emperor's description. No prototype. No theory. Forcing the bell-casters to build one was almost like asking blind men to describe an elephant.
Worse, accidents had already nearly occurred. One Daoist had tried refining gunpowder using gunpowder itself as fuel, with no clear idea what he hoped to produce. The result nearly caused a fire in the twelfth month, leaving Zhao Dezhao shaken.
Part of why he stayed here now was simply to ensure the place did not burn down.
Zhao Pu nodded.
"I did not come about the cannon. I came because another device must be produced. If completed, it may aid our forces at Jiangning."
He paused.
"If successful, it could allow us to destroy the Southern Tang within three months."
Zhao Dezhao's expression instantly turned miserable.
"Prime Minister, the cannon itself has baffled us for two months already. Now another device?"
"Three months may not even be enough to build it, let alone win a war."
Zhao Pu laughed.
"Your Highness worries too much. This one is a hundred times simpler than the cannon."
He dipped his finger into his teacup and began sketching on the tabletop.
"This is adapted from a traction catapult. The throwing arm remains, but the structure changes. A short arm bears four or five hundred jin of weight. The long arm is halted mid-motion by a rope, with a hundred-jin stone attached at the end."
"Axe-men cut the rope. The heavy counterweight drops suddenly, driving the arm. The stone launches like an arrow for several hundred paces. Against walls, it will strike with irresistible force."
Zhao Dezhao studied the drawing carefully. After a moment, he nodded.
"It truly does look much easier to construct… Prime Minister, do you intend to use this to break Jiangning?"
Because his father had promised to take him north against Northern Han once Southern Tang fell, Zhao Dezhao followed this war closely. He knew well how formidable Jiangning was.
Seeing Zhao Pu nod, the prince did not hesitate further and agreed to the task. Still, he asked one last question.
"If this weapon can hurl hundred-jin stones, it is a formidable invention. Who created it?"
Zhao Pu hesitated briefly, then answered truthfully.
"Zhuge Wuhou."