Schlimme Dinge passieren oft

Kapitel 38

The Empress Dowager sighed deeply and said, "She did indeed fall in love with Hao later, because Hao cherished and adored her wholeheartedly; it was impossible for her not to be moved. Although their love wasn't as passionate as the love she had for you, it was warm and natural, the kind that could last a lifetime—something I had long foreseen. They were very happy for the last two months, until you rashly did something that destroyed their hard-won happiness. But..." She walked up to Xu, gently patted his shoulder, and her gaze softened slightly as she looked at him: "That doesn't mean she no longer loves you."

Xu looked up at his grandmother in bewilderment, unsure whether to be happy or sad upon hearing her words.

"If she no longer loved you, she wouldn't have avoided you, wouldn't have deliberately kept her distance. Occasionally, when you meet, her gaze might seemingly casually sweep over you when you're not looking, and the sorrow in her eyes would be so heavy it could condense into a string of sighs. You wouldn't notice any of this, but it wouldn't fool my eyes." The Empress Dowager said sadly, "Her eventual suicide was certainly partly due to her feeling ashamed to face Hao and the fear that Hao would be harmed by you, but there must have been a large part of the reason for it all—she was thinking of you."

"For me?" Xu was incredulous. He had hurt Wan Ji, and Wan Ji would still care about him?

"She certainly doesn't want you to become unfriendly and heartless because of her, committing heinous acts against your own brother, and being forever remembered in history as a tyrannical and debauched ruler. Moreover, although Hao has always been gentle and kind, can he be so kind as to not mind that his wife has been taken away by his own brother? Under such circumstances, can he still maintain a gentle and kind attitude towards you? If he cannot bear such humiliation and rebels in anger, you brothers will fight amongst yourselves, starting a domestic conflict while the Khitan and Western Xia are still eyeing you covetously. At that time, what can you talk about in terms of reform, or ideals of strengthening the country and enriching the people? It will be questionable whether you can even keep your throne and your territory!" The Empress Dowager sighed again, saying, "She had no choice but to disappear from your midst. I only guessed the reason she sought death based on her personality, but I will never know her true thoughts in the end. I often wonder, was the person she was determined to protect with her life you or Hao? Or perhaps both, or perhaps even she herself didn't know..."

Xu sat there, speechless, temporarily deprived of his ability to speak by boundless grief and regret. "The person she was determined to protect with her life—was it you or Hao?" This question would have been something he was interested in and willing to spend a lot of time pondering before, but now he suddenly felt that nothing mattered anymore. She was gone; what was the point of thinking about these things? It would only add to his troubles.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Hao about this," the Empress Dowager continued. "When I returned that day, the eunuch guarding the gate told me you had been here, and I had a vague feeling that something was amiss. When I went in and saw how messy her bedding was, I guessed a bit more, but I just assumed you two had an affair. Alas, I never expected to hear the news that she had tried to drown herself that night... I had the four maids who served her personally brought to me, but three of them, fearing I would punish them and silence them, hanged themselves first. The remaining one, Ruosang, had grown up by my side since childhood. After briefly asking her about the situation, I gave her a cup of medicine to make her mute and kept her working in my palace, but she can't utter a single word. So, as long as you and I don't say anything, no one will tell Hao the truth. The best way to handle this is for us to keep this secret and let Hao never know about it for the rest of his life."

"But Grandmother, have you ever thought that if you hadn't deliberately separated Wanji and me back then, none of this would have happened?" After a long silence, Xu finally asked the question that had been troubling him for many years: "Why didn't you let me marry Wanji? You know we love each other, so why were you so cruel as to marry her off to my brother, making us live such unhappy lives from then on?"

The Empress Dowager gazed deeply at Xu, and sighed again.

“Xu,” she said, “do you know that I have always hoped that you would inherit the throne and rule the Song Dynasty?”

"What? How could this be?" Xu was utterly astonished, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at the Empress Dowager. Didn't she often scold him? Didn't she clearly favor Hao? Wasn't her marriage of Wanji to Hao so that Wanji would become Empress after Hao ascended the throne?

The Empress Dowager smiled calmly and said, "Haotai is gentle and his unassuming nature makes him a saint praised by the world, but he is absolutely unsuitable to be an emperor, because as emperor, there are some things that must be fought for. You are different. From a young age, you have had the desire to inherit the throne and revitalize the Song Dynasty, and you have an extremely strong ambition. These are all factors that I value. However, you were too impulsive when you were young, and your thinking often went in unrealistic directions. You were as wild as a runaway horse, and you were unruly and difficult to tame. When we suppressed you too much, you gave up on yourself. Therefore, I think you need to experience a thorough setback, to taste the bitterness of frustration, so that you can mature and think carefully about what you need and how to get it."

Xu smiled bitterly: "Wanji is the blow and setback you prepared for me."

"Did I do something wrong?" the Empress Dowager said. "Look, you've become much more composed since then, diligently learning the ways of governing and dealing with people. That's why your father finally dared to entrust the throne to you." She paused, then added, "However, there's another important reason. Wanji lost her mother at a young age, making her sensitive and fragile. She's not suited to be the Empress, much less the cutthroat life of the harem. What she needs is a husband who loves her wholeheartedly. If she feels her love has been stolen away by another woman, the feeling of being neglected will quickly wither her away."

She stared at Xu with her worldly-wise gaze: "You, Xu, I can't guarantee that you won't favor other concubines after you marry her. But Hao, I can guarantee that he can never take a concubine in his entire life."

Xu remained silent. After a long while, he said, "If I had been able to marry Wanji back then, I wouldn't have taken so many concubines."

The Empress Dowager shook her head slightly: "Who knows?"

Before leaving Funing Palace, the Empress Dowager took out Zheng Xia's "Refugee Map" and memorial from her sleeve and placed them on his desk, saying, "If you are truly concerned about the suffering of the people, then take a careful look at this map and memorial." She then pointed to the edict of punishment for Hao that Han Wei had just drafted: "As for this, you can decide what to do."

He watched the Empress Dowager until her figure disappeared outside the door. Then, Xu slowly picked up the imperial edict, placed it over the candle flame, and watched it gradually be consumed and curled by the flames. He loosened his grip, and it fell to the ground burning, finally turning to ash.

However, he had no heart to look at the "Refugee Map" now. He felt overwhelmed by the pain stirred up by memories of Wanji, suffocating him to the point of death. After his grandmother's passing, he finally had the opportunity to collapse without restraint. He slumped onto the table, letting waves of despair wash over him. He didn't know how much time had passed before he gradually lost consciousness. Was he asleep? It seemed more like he had fainted.

He finally woke up just before dawn. As soon as he opened his eyes, he vaguely saw what looked like a white object in front of him. He sat up straight and stared at it, and was immediately stunned—it was a small white chrysanthemum.

High-stakes gambling

Xu subconsciously stood up, looked around, and called out "Wan'er" repeatedly, only to be startled by a group of palace maids and eunuchs who knelt down and asked, "What are your orders, Your Majesty?"

He gradually realized that Wanji was long gone, and these chrysanthemums couldn't have been placed there by her. Although it wasn't the season for chrysanthemums to bloom, he loved them so much that he always cultivated his favorite varieties in the palace greenhouse. But who would know the story of these little white chrysanthemums, the flower that had been placed before him during his most vulnerable, sorrowful, and helpless time?

When asked who had come by last night, the palace servants looked at each other blankly and said they were asleep and did not see anyone come in, asking for his forgiveness.

Slightly disappointed, he didn't press the matter further. He picked up the small white chrysanthemum and examined it closely, feeling a warmth in his heart. He couldn't help but recall the first time she gave him this flower: she held out her right hand, a small white chrysanthemum nestled between her delicate fingers, and said, "This flower blooms more beautifully after the frost. Compared to it, aren't you ashamed?"

There was no need to ask any further. He could only assume that the flower was a vessel for her spirit. He figured that she, now dwelling in the afterlife, would not want to see him in such a dejected and fragile state. He tried his best to suppress the bitterness that welled up from the bottom of his heart to the tip of his nose, and solemnly placed the chrysanthemum in the vase on the table. Then he sat down, pondered for a moment, and slowly unfolded Zheng Xia's "Refugee Map".

This closer look reveals a stark difference from the previous images. The picture shows hordes of refugees, dragging and supporting each other, crowding the road. They are all weak and emaciated, their clothes tattered, not a single one properly clothed. Their brows are furrowed with sorrow, tears streaming down their faces. Some shiver and wail in the cold, others clutch their bellies and cry out in hunger; some chew grass roots, others eat tree nuts; some sell their children, others sell their daughters; some, unable to endure the hardship, collapse and die on the roadside; others, shackled and chained, stagger and move slowly under the shouts of soldiers. The ruthless officials, their faces fierce, glare angrily at the refugees, spurring their horses to chase those fleeing, whipping them until their skin is torn and bleeding. The refugees, threatened by the soldiers, scream and cry out in agony; their pitiful state is unbearable to witness.

Zhao Xu grew increasingly alarmed and sorrowful as he looked: These are my people? This is what happened in Bianliang, the capital of my kingdom? Why did no one tell me this before? I always thought that all the people under my rule had enough to eat and enough to wear, and that even if there was a famine, I would only worry about whether tomorrow would be prosperous, while the survival of today would never be a concern.

Opening the memorial again, it read: "Last year, a great locust plague struck, followed by severe drought in autumn and winter. Wheat seedlings withered, and all crops failed to grow, causing widespread fear of death. In spring, deforestation and overfishing resulted in the destruction of vegetation, fish, and turtles. The calamities came without warning. I implore Your Majesty to open the granaries to relieve the poor, abolish the corrupt and unjust policies of the officials, and hope to bring harmony to the people and respond to the will of Heaven, thus extending the lives of the people who were on the verge of death. Now, the censors and remonstrance officials are all greedy and self-serving, making it impossible for those who uphold the Way and have integrity to speak with them. Your Majesty uses titles and honors to govern the loyal and virtuous people of the realm." "To allow people to behave in this way is hardly a blessing for the ancestral temples and the state. I have heard that those who wage war in the south and north all present maps of their victories and the shapes of mountains and rivers to the emperor. I doubt that anyone would present a map depicting the plight of the people, the forced sale of wives and children, the destruction of houses, the displacement and flight, and the dire situation of the nation. I have humbly drawn a map based on what I have seen daily at Anshang Gate. It is far inferior to one in a hundred, but even if Your Majesty were to see it, you would weep. How much more so would those thousands of miles away, whose plight is far worse! Your Majesty, if you view my map and act upon my words, and if it does not rain for ten days, I beg you to execute me outside Xuande Gate to atone for my crime of deceiving the emperor."

"Your Majesty, open the granaries and relieve the poor"—this is easy, and something Xu had long intended to do. But "remove all corrupt and unjust policies of the officials"—this directly demands the abolition of the New Laws. The New Laws, which he and Wang Anshi had painstakingly constructed and implemented over five or six years—were they truly wrong? Abolishing the New Laws would be tantamount to slapping himself in the face; abolishing the New Laws would inevitably leave him bewildered and forced to repeat the hopeless path trodden by his grandfather and father; abolishing the New Laws, what would become of Anshi, whom he had long trusted and supported?

But then he looked at the "Refugee Map" again. After years of reforms, was this the result of what he had achieved?

A thought came to mind: Between me and Anshi, who really misled whom?

"Your Majesty, observe my plan and follow my words. If it does not rain for ten days, I beg to be executed outside Xuande Gate to atone for my crime of deceiving the Emperor." This was Zheng Xia's wager. Very well, then let fate decide the destiny of Zheng Xia, the Emperor, Anshi, and the Great Song Dynasty.

As dawn broke, the ministers gathered in the Yanhe Hall for the morning court session sensed that the atmosphere was different from usual. The expressions of the imperial guards, eunuchs, and palace maids inside and outside the hall seemed unusually respectful and solemn, and even the air felt heavy. When they saw Zhao Xu, dressed in a plain white robe with his hair tied up with a white cloth, walking into the hall like a scholar in white robes, looking weary from a sleepless night, everyone was astonished: the emperor was not wearing his crown or dragon robe at the formal morning court session, which was the most serious self-punishment a monarch could commit – “removing the crown”!

Wang Anshi frowned, stepped forward, bowed, and was about to offer his advice when Zhao Xu stopped him with a wave of his hand. Then he slowly said, "I am deeply worried about the lack of rain in October. I fear that I am incompetent and have acted against the will of Heaven. Therefore, I have decided to 'remove my hat and punish myself' after 'avoiding the palace,' 'reducing my meals,' 'blaming myself,' and 'seeking advice.' I am determined to follow the wishes of the common people and act in accordance with the will of Heaven, hoping to win back Heaven's favor and bring down rain as soon as possible."

Upon hearing this, Wang Anshi immediately asked, "Your Majesty, what does 'According to the wishes of lowly officials and common people, and following the will of Heaven' mean?"

Zhao Xu took a deep breath, sat up straight, and then announced expressionlessly: "Starting today, Kaifeng Prefecture will levy a tax exemption. The Three Departments will inspect market transactions, the Ministry of Agriculture will open the Ever-Normal Granary, and all granaries in the capital will be opened to provide relief to disaster victims. The Three Guards will reduce the number of soldiers in Xihe. All prefectures will show compassion for the people's hardships, exempt the Green Sprouts Service, and temporarily suspend the pursuit of debts. The Fangtian Baojia system will be abolished simultaneously."

For a moment, the hall was silent, everyone stunned by the news and unsure how to react. The new laws promulgated by the emperor with the fervent hope of revitalizing the nation had now been abolished by him himself. Should they shout "Long live the Emperor!" and praise His Majesty's wisdom, or should they frown and sigh in regret?

Wang Anshi asked tentatively, incredulously, "Does Your Majesty intend to abolish the new laws?"

Zhao Xu glanced at him, feeling apologetic, but he could not allow himself to reveal any emotion in court at such a crucial and sensitive moment. He coldly shifted his gaze from Wang Anshi to the distant eaves outside the hall, and said indifferently, "Prime Minister Wang Anshi, listen to the decree: From this day forward, discuss the suspension of the exemption of travel taxes, the suspension of the market exchange law, the suspension of the green seedlings policy, the exemption of corvée labor, the abolition of the land survey system, the baojia system, and so on... halt the implementation of eighteen new laws."

A wave of dizziness washed over Wang Anshi, and he nearly fainted. Just then, someone rushed over and caught him.

Wang Pang, supporting his father, looked up at Zhao Xu and asked angrily, "Why did Your Majesty suddenly make this decision?"

Zhao Xu ordered a eunuch to read Zheng Xia's memorial aloud, then circulated the "Refugee Map" to the ministers. Wang Pang glanced at it but didn't examine it closely, coldly sneering, "My father advised Your Majesty long ago that popular opinions were not worth heeding, but Your Majesty refused to listen. You've abandoned years of reform efforts for the sake of a mere gatekeeper's popular opinions and exaggerated illustrations. It's truly disheartening. Your Majesty has seen countless such petty people who use slander against the new laws for personal gain before, and you've always wisely punished them by sending them to exile. Why are you so convinced this time?"

Zhao Xu simply asked him, "Have you ever seen a petty person who would risk their own life for personal gain?"

Wang Pang's tone remained aggressive: "Does Your Majesty mean Zheng Xia's statement: 'If Your Majesty observes my plan and acts on my words, and if it does not rain within ten days, I beg to be executed outside Xuande Gate to atone for the crime of deceiving the Emperor'? In that case, if it does not rain within ten days, Your Majesty will still reinstate the new laws and execute Zheng Xia outside Xuande Gate?"

Zhao Xu remained silent, but did not voice his opposition, which was tantamount to tacit approval.

"Alright!" Wang Pang nodded and said, "Then we'll see if it rains within ten days!"

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Resign from office

Pang Di, who lived in the Wenxing Tower, heard about this incident from Wen'er.

Wen'er ran upstairs, her little face showing a rare look of worry, and took her hand, saying, "Sister-in-law, let's go to the Daxiangguo Temple to offer incense tomorrow!"

Pang Di asked, "Do you want to pray for rain?"

Wen'er squinted and said, "Pah! I don't want it to rain! What we should pray for is that it won't rain at all."

Pang Di asked curiously, "Why? It has been a long drought for ten months, and the people of the world are suffering terribly. They all hope for rain to stop the drought as soon as possible. I'm sure you, sir, are also worried about this matter every day."

Wen'er sighed, "He certainly hopes for rain, but if it rains within ten days, he won't be able to remain prime minister."

Pang Di hurriedly asked for the reason, and Wen'er explained the whole story, then said, "This morning after the court session, I saw that Father was being helped back. As soon as he entered his room, he was lying on the bed, and Brother's face was dark, as if he had seen Prince Qi in your room again..."

Pang Di blushed and spat, "You can't even find a nice way to describe it!"

Wen'er smiled and said, "I only said that because I knew there was nothing wrong. If there really was something, I wouldn't have said anything." Then she continued, "At that time, I didn't know what had happened. Seeing how angry my brother was, I didn't dare to ask. Fortunately, not long after, Consort Zhu sent someone to find me and told me about it. She said that if it rained within ten days, the Emperor might dismiss my father. She told us to think of a way to prepare in advance. But what could we do? We could only pray to God not to let it rain so soon. How about we go to offer incense tomorrow? While others pray for rain, we'll pray for sunshine, okay?"

Pang Di was caught in a dilemma, hesitant to agree. The drought had lasted so long, and she had heard tales of the plight of the displaced people. If the drought continued, the suffering of the common people would inevitably worsen. Rain sooner would alleviate the crisis sooner, benefiting both the country and its people. But now, her father-in-law had been tricked into turning the day of rain into the day of his dismissal, leaving him in a complete predicament. She, like all the people of the world, had longed for rain to relieve the drought, but now she didn't know whether to pray for rain or for clear skies.

Wen'er continued to pester her for a long time, insisting that she go to pray for Qing. Helpless, she was about to explain her thoughts to Wen'er when a sudden gust of cool wind swept in from outside the window. She was surprised to feel that the wind carried a long-lost damp smell, and her heart immediately jumped. At this moment, a bright light tore through the sky, making their faces appear even paler. Then, a rumbling thunder sounded, which quickly approached, as if it had exploded right in front of them.

They were all stunned for a moment, then rushed out, only to be hit by raindrops as soon as they reached the corridor.

"It's raining!" Wen'er exclaimed, both angry and anxious.

A torrential downpour began, pouring down with tremendous force. The sound of the rain was deafening, but it couldn't drown out the cheers from the entire city. The people of Bianliang rushed out, laughing, shouting, and clapping in celebration, and the whole city instantly erupted in jubilation.

This was only the first day since the Emperor issued his decree abolishing most of the new laws, and the rain had already started to fall. Pang Di stared blankly at the torrential rain, standing there for a long time. Suddenly, he called out "Pang" in a low voice, then quickly ran downstairs and headed straight for where Wang Pang lived.

Upon entering the courtyard, one sees Wang Anshi and his son standing there, neither holding an umbrella, letting the wind and rain soak them. Wang Anshi, seemingly having rushed from his sickbed, is drenched in his thin white robe, not even wearing an outer garment. He holds out his hand to catch the raindrops, a smile on his face, but his eyes are filled with a sorrowful look, a mixture of joy and grief, as he murmurs, "Good, good, finally this day has come, heaven has sent down sweet rain, the people of the world are saved… What a nourishing rain, a savior for all things, a relief for the world…"

Wang Pang, on the other hand, remained silent and motionless, staring hatefully at the torrential rain before him, his eyes bloodshot as if they were about to bleed.

Lady Wang rushed out, accompanied by several maids. Wiping away tears, she had the maids hold umbrellas for them and repeatedly urged them to return to their rooms. Wang Anshi sighed deeply and staggered back, his figure appearing much older in an instant. Wang Pang, however, pushed away Xuanji, who was holding the umbrella for him, stubbornly insisting on standing still.

Pang Di felt a pang of sadness. She went over and tugged at his sleeve, saying softly, "Pang, shall we go back to our room first?"

He remained unmoved. Pang Di sighed, "Then I'll stand here with you." She stopped trying to persuade him and stood silently beside him. Xuanji offered her the umbrella, but she shook her head and refused to take it.

Wang Pang finally turned to look at her, then suddenly strode away, not to the bedroom, but straight to the study. Pang Di, unsure of what he would do next and worried, immediately followed.

After entering the study, he grabbed a stack of manuscripts from the table and tore them up violently, then threw the pieces on the floor and grabbed another book to tear it to shreds as well.

Pang Di looked closely and realized that what he had torn up was the manuscript of "New Interpretations of the Three Classics," which he had been preparing for many years and meticulously revising for a year. He was immediately shocked and ran over to grab his hand, pleading, "No, Pang! This is the culmination of your years of hard work, the essence of your reform and governance theories, a work meant to be passed down through the ages! How much effort you have put into compiling it, how many sleepless nights you have endured, how can you bear to destroy it with your own hands? You can't! Absolutely not!"

He abruptly pulled his hand away and roared at her, "Do you know? It's all over! The new laws have been abolished, and I can no longer be prime minister. Our reforms have been ruined by this rain! The Song Dynasty will once again follow the old path. My painstakingly compiled 'New Interpretations of the Three Classics' will become heresy, unable to be printed, published, or used in academies. What use is it to keep it? To constantly remind me of the disastrous failure of my reforms and the shattering of my ideals?"

Pang Di remained silent, only bending down to pick up the scraps of paper he had scattered, one by one, and placing them on the desk. Wang Pang continued tearing, and she continued picking them up. After a long time, Wang Pang finally stopped and asked her, "Why are you picking them up? What do you want from them?"

She smiled calmly and said, "I'll pick up the pieces and put them back together for you as usual. You can keep tearing them, if that makes you feel better. I'll pick up and put back together as many pieces as you tear."

He remained silent upon hearing this. After a moment, he tossed the remaining half of the manuscript onto the table, then slumped into his chair, looked up at her, and managed a weak smile, which was utterly desolate.

“Di,” he said, “I have nothing left now.”

He sat weakly alone, like a helpless child. Pang Di was deeply saddened. She went over and gently embraced him, wiping the rain from his forehead and face, and whispered to him, "No, you still have hope, you still have a future, you still have...me. How could you forget that?"

He sighed softly, slowly reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his face against hers, and gently closed his eyes. His raging anger finally subsided in this way, a gesture akin to seeking warmth.

After a long silence, she spoke again, urging him, "Don't tear up your book anymore. Why don't you give it to the Emperor? Perhaps one day, when the Emperor opens the book you compiled, he will remember the days you worked together on the reforms, the achievements you made, the joy you shared, and your common ideals and ambitions. Then, he will resume implementing the new laws, and you can pursue your dreams again. You have sacrificed so much for the reforms. If there truly is a divine will that decides everything, your sincerity should have moved him. I believe you will one day rise again."

Wang Pang remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded.

The rain continued until noon the next day. Streams flowed freely, rivers gushed forth, and plants flourished once more, the drought completely over. Civil and military officials flocked to the emperor to congratulate him on the rain, and a group of former officials, in front of Wang Anshi, praised Zhao Xu's wisdom in accepting honest advice and abolishing the new laws, for heaven had sent down this good rain.

After everyone finished offering their congratulations, Wang Anshi took out a memorial from his sleeve and presented it to Zhao Xu.

When Zhao Xu opened it, he saw that the letter was titled "Memorial Requesting Resignation from State Affairs." He knew it was Zhao Xu's resignation letter. Although he had known that Zhao Xu would resign, seeing the letter now still made him feel sad, and two tears fell down his cheeks.

“My dear minister, there’s no need for this. I have no grudge against you. The responsibility for the natural disaster should lie with me, the sovereign. The fault does not lie with you. Why must you resign and be so resolute?” Zhao Xu pleaded, trying to persuade him to stay. These words came from the heart, not as a mere formality. Although he had indeed considered dismissing Wang Anshi to quell public criticism, he regretted it upon reflection. After years of cooperation and support, Wang Anshi had become inextricably linked to Zhao Xu’s own ideals and life, almost inseparable. To separate them would be as painful as being torn apart.

Wang Anshi sighed, “I was originally a lowly and unworthy person whom two previous emperors had disdained. Fortunately, Your Majesty has summoned and appointed me to an important position. I will naturally do my best to repay Your Majesty’s kindness. Unfortunately, the implementation of the new laws has brought so much suspicion and resentment. The responsibility for the calamity has also been pushed onto the new laws. I can disregard the slander and curses of the world, but I am deeply afraid that Your Majesty will be implicated and have your reputation damaged. Moreover, after several years of wholehearted reform, I am now physically exhausted. I am willing but unable to govern. Therefore, I beg Your Majesty to grant me permission to resign from the position of prime minister and send me to a quiet place to rest for a while.”

Emperor Zhao Xu shook his head, repeatedly trying to persuade Wang Anshi to stay, but Wang Anshi was determined to resign. Helpless, Zhao Xu finally asked sadly, "After you leave, who should I appoint to govern?"

Wang Anshi replied, "I believe that Han Jiang and Lü Huiqing are capable of undertaking this important task."

On the day of Bingxu in the fourth month of the seventh year of the Xining era, Wang Anshi was formally dismissed from his post as chancellor. Emperor Zhao Xu appointed Han Jiang, a Grand Academician of the Guanwen Hall and Prefect of Daming, as Co-Chancellor, and Lü Huiqing, a Hanlin Academician, as Right Grand Counselor and Vice Chancellor. He then ordered Wang Anshi to serve as Prefect of Jiangning.

Wang Pang then resigned from his official post as well. After packing up briefly, the whole family went to Jiangning with Wang Anshi.

On the day of their departure, as the procession reached the pavilion outside the city, Wen'er lifted the curtain to admire the view and discovered a man riding a horse on a nearby hill. He was dressed in a plain brocade robe with narrow sleeves, his posture graceful, and his hair ribbon fluttering in the wind as he silently watched them go.

“It’s His Highness Prince Qi!” Wen’er’s eyes lit up as she said to Pang Di, who was in the same carriage.

Pang Di looked in that direction and nodded, saying, "It's him."

Wen'er suddenly sighed and said wistfully, "Who do you think he came to see off?"