The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 090 Look At Him, Why Does He Always Stir My Heart?
Tang Shen's heart suddenly skipped a beat. He raised his hand blankly, touching his forehead.
Wang Zhen said he was "bold because of favoritism"... Could it be that he really crossed the line?
But looking at Wang Zifeng’s cheerful demeanor, it didn’t seem like he was actually upset.
"…Senior Brother."
"Yes?"
Tang Shen hesitated for a long time, unsure of what to say. Should he insist that he wasn’t acting bold because of favoritism? Should he admit he misspoke and promise to be more careful in the future? Yet, the phrase “bold because of favoritism” was so embarrassing he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. After a long silence, Tang Shen finally said, “Senior Brother, it seems... it’s my turn to play.”
The clean and handsome young man gazed at him seriously with bright, clear eyes.
After a moment, Wang Zhen said, "Alright."
Tang Shen let out a sigh of relief.
The two resumed their game.
Wang Zhen didn’t mention the Liao court again, but the few brief remarks he had made earlier were enough for Tang Shen to picture the turbulent undercurrents of Liao politics. The court of Liao was not as iron-blooded and rigid as its military. For one, its officials were divided into Northern and Southern factions.
Northern officials, numerous and mostly from noble or tribal backgrounds, held the majority of power. Southern officials, tasked with handling interactions with Song, were fewer in number but still a significant force. Beyond this, Tang Shen had already encountered Liao’s third prince, Yelü Han.
Yelü Han was courageous but lacked wisdom. From Wang Zhen's words, the competition among Liao's first, second, and third princes mirrored the clash of black and white pieces on a chessboard.
Struggles for power among princes were inevitable throughout history. Similarly, the contention and suppression among influential officials and factions were common occurrences. However, for the first time, Tang Shen realized that the Song Dynasty, too, had many princes and factions. Yet, the Song had Emperor Zhao Fu.
The second prince, Zhao Shang, tasked with receiving the Liao emissary this time, was no fool. He had been biding his time and had repeatedly outmaneuvered the Liao envoy during negotiations. Above him, the crown prince, Zhao Jing, was also renowned for his talents, once praised by Hanlin Academy’s Grand Secretary Zhou for his calligraphy.
In addition, the court was filled with aristocratic officials, scholars who rose up from humble backgrounds, aging powerholders, and ambitious newcomers—all like black and white pieces locked in combat.
Yet, everything remained under Zhao Fu’s control.
No matter the reasons behind Zhao Fu's strategies, his arrangements had led to a Song Dynasty free of internal strife.
Tang Shen felt a mix of emotions, sighing inwardly as he lowered his head and focused on the game.
Tang Shen said, “The contradictions within Liao’s court and palace are a timely boon for the Song. If leveraged properly, it could be a brilliant strategy.” Returning to the earlier topic, this was the conclusion Tang Shen had reached.
After making his move, Wang Zhen seemed to only then hear Tang Shen’s comment. He looked at Tang Shen with slight surprise and asked, “Aren’t we playing chess, Junior Brother? Why suddenly bring up Liao’s affairs? Little Junior Brother truly cares for the nation, never forgetting its concerns—even after office hours and during a game of chess. Such a pillar of talent should not be buried.”
Tang Shen thought to himself: I am a fourth-ranked attendant secretary in Qinzheng Hall. Even the governor of Gusu has to bow and scrape when I visit my hometown. Yet say I am buried?
“But you’re still a bit too young,” Wang Zhen added.
Naturally, Tang Shen didn’t mind his meteoric rise. In fact, he wouldn’t object to becoming Grand Chancellor in Qinzheng Hall next year. However, if he could take over Su Wenyun’s position as fourth-rank Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, then he didn't mind whether he could advance another rank or gain a noble title.
Though only a fourth-rank post, the Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review oversaw all criminal cases in the empire.
As Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, investigating certain matters would be much easier. This was why Tang Shen had initially sought to build rapport with Su Wenyun. Unfortunately, the Cizhou incident had soured Su Wenyun’s opinion of him, making future collaboration difficult.
With a resigned shake of his head, Tang Shen continued the game. Unsurprisingly, Wang Zhen claimed another resounding victory.
Donning his fox-fur cloak, Tang Shen bade farewell to Wang Zhen and prepared to head home.
Wang Zhen said, “Little Junior Brother, why not leave a court robe at my residence next time? That way, you won’t have to go home every day just to change before court.”
Winter’s chill made Tang Shen’s daily carriage rides back home inconvenient. Leaving court attire at Wang Zhen’s residence would allow him to rest there and avoid unnecessary trips. After some thought, he replied, “Then I’ll bring a set next time to leave with Senior Brother.”
Wang Zhen, holding a lantern, escorted Tang Shen to the gate.
The sight of the lantern reminded Tang Shen of Wang Zifeng’s self-praise: “I’m a worthy man who is hard to find even with a lantern in hand.” He couldn’t help but chuckle.
Just then, Wang Zhen spoke: “Little Junior Brother, you are only nineteen, already holding a fourth-rank post. Advancing further within two years, without great achievements, is near impossible.”
Of course Tang Shen knew, he replied, “Senior Brother misunderstands. I am not a man who covets fame and fortune.”
“I can, however, point you to a clear path. Achieving second-rank status within five years is entirely possible.”
Tang Shen’s eyes widened. “Senior Brother?” There was such a method?
Holding the lantern, Wang Zhen smiled. “It’s simple—sever all ties with me. Go your way, and I’ll go mine. From then on, we’ll have no further connections.”
Tang Shen: “…”
Though it sounded like a jest, the more Tang Shen thought about it, the more his scalp tingled.
Wang Zhen wasn’t entirely joking.
Tang Shen was favored by the emperor and had risen to Qinzheng Hall within three years. With his good relationship with Wang Zhen, his future was bright, and he might even reach second-rank status within ten years. But to become a powerful minister within five years, severing ties with Wang Zhen would indeed be the quickest route.
If Tang Shen opposed Wang Zhen and remained estranged from Su Wenyun, the emperor would view him as an ideal counterbalance to the two. This would prompt Zhao Fu to elevate and empower Tang Shen, turning him into a genuine rival to Wang Zhen and Su Wenyun.
Yet…
Tang Shen said, “Senior Brother, such words wound me. Everyone has their path. As they say, ‘Do your best and leave the rest to fate.’ I have never harbored such intentions toward you. Senior Brother, you are my senior brother. As I said earlier, Senior Brother Zi Feng, I am not a man who covets fame and fortune.”
In essence: I don’t want to use you.
Perhaps initially, Tang Shen had seen Wang Zifeng as a stepping stone. But now, he deeply respected and admired this man, truly treating him as his guiding light.
Liang Song had been his childhood mentor, but Wang Zhen was the teacher who had led him into the vast, intricate world of officialdom.
Only now did Tang Shen realize he had grown accustomed to looking up to Wang Zhen, to having this senior brother who was both a mentor and a friend by his side. He trusted Wang Zhen so deeply that he was even willing to stake his life on him.
That night at the Chizhou posthouse, amidst chaos and danger, when Wang Zhen opened the woodshed door to rescue him, everything changed.
To Tang Shen, this senior brother was no longer a mere stepping stone but a once-in-a-lifetime confidant.
With cupped hands, Tang Shen said, “That’s all I have to say. Senior Brother, I’ll take my leave now.”
Wang Zhen stood frozen in place.
Tang Shen adjusted his cloak, boarded the carriage, and let the driver take him back to the Tanhua Residence.
Behind him, Wang Zhen held the lantern, watching from afar with a gaze deep and lingering.
After a long while, the steward approached and said, "Gongzi, the night wind is strong. You should return indoors."
Wang Zhen murmured, "Look at him, always stirring my heart."
The steward didn't know how to respond. He had overheard the earlier conversation between Wang Zhen and Tang Shen. Having practically watched Wang Zhen grow up, the steward knew that Tang Shen interpreted Wang Zhen's words as mere teasing or perhaps a subtle test of his loyalty. But the steward understood—Wang Zhen wasn’t probing for disloyalty. He was searching for his position in his junior brother's heart.
Seeing such a cautious yet earnest young master, the steward couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.
Bowing his head slightly, the steward gently urged, "Gongzi, it’s time to head back."
Wang Zhen let out a long sigh. His voice, carried away by the fierce winter wind, was tinged with infinite longing and melancholy.
But Wang Zhen didn’t have to wait long. Two days later, Tang Shen arrived at the Minister Residence with a lantern in hand.
When Wang Zhen looked up at him, Tang Shen awkwardly said, "Senior Brother, you're like a rare gem—a man one could never find even with a lantern in hand. Please don’t be upset with me."
Wang Zhen slowly broke into a smile. "When was I ever upset with you?"
Tang Shen hesitated. "You weren’t?"
Wang Zhen chuckled. "Come, let’s play a game of chess."
Tang Shen sighed inwardly. Not upset? Then why the chess as punishment?
Little did Tang Shen know that Wang Zhen had simply been setting up a chessboard when he arrived. The timing was purely coincidental, though Tang Shen's overthinking made him grumble internally.
After playing a few rounds, Wang Zhen asked, "Did you bring your court attire?"
Tang Shen paused, then admitted, "I forgot."
"Next time, then."
"Okay."
As the game concluded, Tang Shen coughed lightly and explained the reason for his visit. "Senior Brother, you oversee the Silver Pull Division. How is the progress of its tasks?"
Wang Zhen looked up at him. "Why the sudden interest in the Silver Pull Division?"
After a moment of hesitation, Tang Shen decided to share his thoughts candidly. "Recently, General Li spoke to me about the matter of maintaining an army. Senior Brother, the Liao have always coveted our Song Dynasty. Any strategy against them feels like a temporary fix—unable to address the root cause. Our fear of the Liao lies not in their numbers but in their formidable cavalry. Recently, you mentioned the internal strife within Liao. It occurred to me that all conflicts in the world ultimately boil down to the exchange of pieces." (TN: The term "exchange of pieces" is used in chess or similar board games. It refers to the act of trading pieces of equal value between players, often as a strategic move to simplify the board or gain positional advantages.)
Ten days later, a treaty was reached between the Song and Liao Dynasties, concluding the confrontation outside Youzhou City in the 30th year of Kaiping. Both sides made concessions.
The Liao sought monetary compensation, which the Song Dynasty could afford. In exchange, the Song negotiated for the release of hostages and permission to purchase a batch of Ferghana horses—a rare and highly prized breed.
However, Liao envoy Yelü Qin made an additional demand that shocked the entire Song court.
Yelü Qin stated, "Our Liao Emperor has long heard that the Song produces beautiful women—gentle, elegant beauties. Thus, one purpose of my mission is to request a Song princess for marriage to our emperor."
The next morning in court, the ministers were in an uproar.
Seated high on the throne, Zhao Fu remarked, "Fair maidens are indeed sought by noble men. Our Song women are known for their grace, even recognized by the Liao Emperor. It's truly a pity that I don’t have a princess of marriageable age. Ministers, what do you suggest we do?"
Tang Shen knew Zhao Fu wasn’t particularly concerned about sending his daughter to marry the Liao emperor. Despite saying "what a pity," he was indifferent. However, many officials were deeply worried for their own daughters.
For a time, noble families and court officials were filled with unease.
On his day off, Tang Shen visited Xixia Tower, only to encounter an unexpected figure.
Stepping forward, Tang Shen saluted and said, "Tang Shen greets the Heir Apparent of Prince Jing. May I ask why the Heir is here?"
The man was none other than Zhao Qiong, Heir Apparent of Prince Jing.
Zhao Qiong raised his wine cup and gave a bitter smile. "Drowning my sorrows… only to find they multiply! Tang Shen, you must have heard about the Liao emperor’s proposal to marry a Song princess, right?"
Tang Shen took a seat. "I’m one of the officials responsible for receiving the Liao envoy."
Zhao Qiong sighed heavily. "His Majesty has no suitable daughters, so naturally, they’ll look to the daughters of imperial relatives. If none are chosen—or if His Majesty wishes to spare the imperial family—they’ll turn to officials’ families, select a suitable girl, and bestow her the title of princess before sending her away."
Selecting from officials’ families was common, as such girls were often unrelated to the imperial lineage and thus deemed expendable. But Zhao Fu was not a sentimental ruler; sending his own daughter or a niece didn’t seem to bother him.
Zhao Qiong lamented, "My younger sister is only seventeen, deeply cherished by our family. We had hoped to keep her home for a few more years, but now she’s at risk, unmarried as she is!"