The History of China - #133 - N. Song 1: The Coup at Chen Bridge

Episode Date: November 19, 2017

The Duke of Song Circuit and Grand Marshal of the armies of Later Zhou is dispatched by the 6-year-old emperor and his mom to the northeast to investigate and drive out a reported incursion by the Khitan Liao and their Northern Han allies. But he won’t make it very far at all before the nature of his mission changes dramatically… Time Period Covered: 960-962 CE Major Historical Figures: Emperor Gong of Later Zhou (Guo Zongxun) [r. 959-960, d. 973] Zhao Kuangyin (Emperor Taizu of Song) [r. 960-976] Zhao Kuangyi (Guangyi) [939-997] Zhao Pu (922-992) Governor Li Yün of Luzhou [d. 960] Governor Li Chengjin of Yanzgzhou [d. 960] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. The Civil War and Reconstruction was a pivotal era in American history. When a war was fought to save the Union and to free the slaves. And when the work to rebuild the nation after that war was over turned into a struggle to guarantee liberty and justice for all Americans. I'm Tracy. And I'm Rich. And we want to invite you to join us as we take an in-depth look at this pivotal era in American history. Look for The Civil War

and Reconstruction wherever you find your podcasts. Hey everyone, just a quick reminder that if you want more of my witty banter than can be contained on a single RSS feed, feel free to join me over on Facebook at The History of China, or on Twitter under the handle at THOC Podcast, or at our home on the web, thehistoryofchina.wordpress.com. And while you're there, get into the holiday spirit and think about appreciating the show in a fungible monetary fashion by clicking on our handy dandy Patreon and or PayPal links. Thanks again, and alright, on with the show. Hello, and welcome to the History of China. Episode 133, The Coup at Chen Bridge. Since the fall of the Great Tang Dynasty in 907,

the more than half-century that followed has been chaotic and unpredictable at all levels, social, military, and political. States have risen and fallen in the course of mere years, and their rulers often sitting for far less than even that. As the historian Ouyang Xiu put it in the introduction of the new history of the five dynasties, all the way back in 1073, quote, emperors were enthroned like clerks and states were replaced like inns, end quote. This constant chaos did seem to be building towards some kind of a climax by the second half of the 950s, but it was still anyone's guess as to what that climax might wind up exactly being.

Would Later Zhou succeed in holding the north, or would the Khitan Liao return to devastate the Yellow River Valley once again? Was Southern Tang going to continue its expansionism across the south, or would its alliance of convenience with the still preoccupied Southern Han state hold firm? In 959, a betting man would have probably put his money on later Zhou, slowly and methodically solidifying its hold over the north, pounding northern Han into a final submission, and continuing to deconstruct and annex the south piece by piece. Of course, the Yangtze River, already the ancient dividing line between north and south, might have once again ensured that the two halves remained independent states.

It had happened before, and it would happen again, after all. But as up in the air as everything was, it's pretty safe to say that no one, and I mean no one, saw the events of 960 coming. The catalyzing agent of the sea change to come was in a way both unpredictable in its happening, but all too predictable in its consequence. And that was the sudden illness and death of the second emperor of later Zhou, Chai Rong, or Guo Rong, at just 39 years old. He'd been forced to call off his tremendously successful campaign against the Liao at Yuzhou and return to his capital at Kaifeng, where he died a month later. But according to legend, prior to him taking ill, Rong is said to have been presented with a mysterious wooden placard that bore what he took to be a prophecy. Frustratingly, the placard appears to have been incomplete or broken,

but read in a rhyming verse of Chinese poetry, and it said, quote, the inspector general is to be, before leaving off the final character. From professors Lao Nap-Yin and Huang Guan-Cheng, quote, according to the legend, the missing object sounded like the word emperor to Tai Rong, and as a consequence, quote, according to the legend, the missing object sounded like the word emperor to Chai Rong, and as a consequence, he summarily dismissed the inspector general of the palace command, Chang Yongde, who was an amateur astrologer and the son-in-law of Guo Wei, and replaced him with the commander-in-chief, a military strongman named Zhao Kuangying, end quote. But for those of you who've seen the movie Kung Fu Panda, you'll remember Master

Oogway saying that one often meets his destiny on the road that he took to avoid it. At 34 years old, Zhao Kuangyin had already risen well above the station typical for his age, showing a fantastic talent for military and governmental affairs, and earning himself accolades and promotions far beyond what might have otherwise been expected. And in short order, he had been transferred to the then-prince Chai Rong's personal command, where he was treated as his lord's right hand in virtually all matters of war, especially after his consultation and direction carried Prince Rong to victory against both later Shu and Southern Tang in 956, for which he'd earned the position of Inspector General and Grand Marshal of the Palace Command. In spite of his impressive administrative abilities,

it would be his uncommon skill at managing such interpersonal relationships that would prove to be the deciding factor for his career arc. In this position, he showed himself to be not only a tactical and logistical genius, but also equally adept at interpersonal relations with his peers, as well as the troops under his command, over which he had personal control over their selection and training, earning their firm personal loyalty and even undergoing formal ceremonies of swearing ritual brotherhood with the promising lieutenants under his command. With Chai Rong's death in 959, the throne passed to his son and heir, the five or six-year-old Guo Chongxun. But on the Lunar New Year's Day of 960, reports were made to the palace staff that a combined force of Liao and

northern Han armies had begun an invasion of two of their northern frontier prefectures. This was a feasible report. The Liao, like many of the northern peoples, were adept at launching winter raids and invasions, something virtually no force of a settled civilization could ever adequately pull off. Also, there was cause for aggression, since the Liao had just suffered a string of defeats at the hands of Chai Rong, and reports of his death, and especially those of a child now sitting on the throne of Zhou, might have made them hopeful that their lost territories could be easily reconquered before the usual fighting season had even begun. Even so, Lao and Huang are skeptical of the validity of such reports, saying, quote, whether this invasion occurred was doubtful, end quote. It would prove to be,

in any case, a very fortuitous set of circumstances to take place so early in the child emperor's reign. Not for the monarch, mind you, but for the commander of his armies, Grand Marshal Zhao. The court believed the reports and dispatched their armies to drive back the supposed barbarian threat from Hebei, with Zhao Kuangying at its head. It's notable, though, that there were already doubts swirling around the imperial court about the trustworthiness of the Grand Marshal, with at least some members of the court arguing that he was already so powerful and influential among the troops that it would be dangerous to dispatch him at the head of the army.

I mean, who knows what could happen once he was away from the watchful eyes of the palace. There were even rumors that Zhao's troops might be planning to declare him emperor as soon as they were away from the capital, since they feared that with a child on the throne and actual political power in the hands of his mother, the Empress Dowager, the campaign they were about to embark on wouldn't be adequately recognized or rewarded. After all, those girls can't possibly understand or appreciate the fine art of hacking Khitan tribesmen to death. With what seems to have been great rapidity, the rumors crescendoed into a full-blown panic across Kaifeng, and many of its citizens preemptorily fled the city. And yet for all this, the imperial court remained calm and even indifferent, a bit like Kevin Bacon at the end

of Animal House. Remain calm, all is well, all is well. But as it turned out, sometimes rumors aren't simply idle chatter. Sometimes they're spread because there are grains of truth contained within, and sometimes because they're 100% correct. By the evening of the third day of the expedition northeastward, the later Zhou army had encamped some 20 miles from Kaifeng at Chen Bridge, which crossed the Yellow River. There arose a great commotion among the soldiers that a supposed prophet had seen in the sky two suns fighting one another. It was quickly agreed that such a sign could only mean that the mandate of heaven had passed from the Guo clan to that of Zhao Kuangyin. Yet for all this commotion, the Grand Marshal was fast asleep in his tent,

by all accounts sleeping off a tremendous amount of wine. When he arose at dawn on the fourth day, still half drunk from the night before, to find a group of officers having burst into his tent with swords drawn, and according to the official histories in any case, robed their stupefied commander in a robe of imperial yellow. When Zhao exited the tent to see what the devil was happening to his army, he discovered the greater whole of his men, who had stood vigil outside all night waiting for this moment. Altogether, they unsheathed their swords and shouted, the army is without a master we want to make the grand marshal the new emperor the account goes that Zhao was extremely reluctant

to take power and only at the urging of his mutinous officers and having extracted an oath of unconditional loyalty to his word did he take the job and that does make for some nice copy doesn't it but haven't we heard this whole song and dance before? Oh, I'm being offered the throne? Gee, surely not me. Well, okay, but only if... yadda yadda yadda. It seems far more likely that this was all a carefully stage-managed performance, thoroughly in line with many other imperial usurpations across time.

Lao and Huang tend to agree. Quote, Most modern historians tend to agree that the coup was jointly engineered by Zhao himself, his brother Zhao Kuangyi, and some advisors in his army. Even if Zhao was not the prime instigator of the coup, he was definitely a willing beneficiary, and Adratli took charge of the situation. End quote. I mean, look at it this way.

Yes, the soldiers were all hopped up on mutinous sentiment and questionable prophecy, but it's not as though Zhao couldn't have instantly restored order and punished the leaders of the movement to enthrone him, had he chosen to. He was the Grand Marshal of the entire army, and his word was already absolute. Yet instead of nipping it in the bud right then and there, he just went along with the acclamation, only ritualistically refusing the crown unless he received the appropriate promises from his underlings. He wasn't some deer in the headlights of an army run amok, he was almost certainly the chief puppeteer. And so there he was, robed in the garments of an emperor, and with the entirety of the imperial army having just sworn to obey him to the end.

Well done, Zhao Kuangyin, well done. He then made preparations to wheel the army back around and return to Kaifeng, because, you know, I guess the alleged Khitan and Northern Han invaders weren't all that important after all. But before setting out on the return journey, he assembled his troops and laid out his orders in the clearest possible terms. No member of the imperial court or the Guo royal family was to be harmed in any capacity, nor were any soldier to harm any of the citizens of the capital nor loot any household within, and to vow that he would execute the entire family clan of any officer or soldier who dared defy this order. With the threat of the massive sharp stick, though, Zhao also offered a sweet juicy carrot. All obedient followers would be richly rewarded once he was ensconced in the palace.

And boy oh boy did it ever work. The army entered into the capital and proceeded to the palace without the slightest disturbance, such that not even the street vendors in the marketplaces were disturbed from their usual trade. The court ministers, knowing full well that any resistance was beyond pointless, allowed the emperor declarant to freely enter the palace and one and all bowed before him, acknowledging him as the emperor in fact as well as claim. The importance of such strict discipline in the ranks can't really be overstated, since it not only preserved the integrity and wealth of the capital that later Zhou had managed to accumulate over the prior nine years, but also marked a huge tonal break with the successions

of the past 50 plus years, in which the first thing an occupying army tended to do was pillage and loot the capital for all it was worth, i.e. the last time the Khitan had invaded and Deguang had carted off everything not welded to the floors. This also ensured that the population of not just the capital city, but also the wider state, remained amenable, or at least not actively hostile, to the changeover at the top, meaning that at virtually every level, Zhao Kuangying, or as I'll start referring to him from here on out, Emperor Taizu of Song, retained the stability and good order of later Zhou, achieving internal security for his reign in swift fashion, and was almost immediately able to begin the process of reunifying the long-divided wider empire.

Having seized the capital, the throne, and the empire in one fell swoop, first on Song Taizu's docket was to transform himself from a dirty, dirty usurperer into a legitimate founder of a new dynastic order. No small task indeed. Fortunately, there was an app for that. The reclamation of the Mandate of Heaven, which, as we all surely remember, conferred legitimate power and authority on its bearer. Evidence of the conferral of the Mandate was usually established by retrospective propaganda in the form of legendary auspicious signs of heavenly approval. Well, Taizu was already ahead of the game in that department, wasn't he,

since he could already point to the whole two suns fighting each other in the sky vision. But he seems to have fully and completely embraced the idea that he was the legitimate son of heaven with both arms and legs. From Lao and Huang, quote, When warned it was dangerous to go out incognito to survey the state of society for himself, the newly enthroned emperor laughed at the prospect of danger, for he accepted the idea that when a person had been chosen by heaven to be the true master of the world, not one could harm him. While without heaven's mandate, even the guarded doors

of a secluded palace could not protect him, end quote. A bold claim to be sure, but you kind of have to admit, he's sort of got a point. I mean, how good of guarded palace has been at protecting emperors these days again? And here I ought to make a brief aside to tell you that Taizu opted to retain Kaifeng as the imperial capital, in spite of the several reasons to not. Chief among those reasons against was that, well, let's face it, defensively Kaifeng was in a pretty terrible spot, situated as it was smack dab in the middle of the North Chinese plain with no natural defenses to speak of. I mean, you're almost asking to be besieged.

But that was more than offset by the city's benefits as imperial capital. Lao and Huang spell it out. It was almost 300 miles closer to the affluent south than was the old Tang capital of Chang'an to the west. And shipments of grain to Kaifeng avoided the difficult stretches of the Yellow River between the old capital and the rice-producing Yangtze areas. More important was Kaifeng's access to the Grand Canal system. Kaifeng was seated at the northern terminus of the Bian Canal, which linked the Yellow and Huai River systems into one super-transport network extending into the richest areas of the North China Plain. End quote.

Yes, yes, it might be vulnerable to attack, but the trade networks, man, the trade networks. Still, in spite of Tides' bravado, he wasn't quite confident enough in his divine protection to go stripping off his armor or to neglect to squash other potential contenders to this newly acquired power. The army might be with him, but among the other powerful generals and governors, the reaction to his seizure of power had been something more of a mixed bag. The governor of Luzhou in the northern territories, Li Yun, sought out an alliance with the emperor of northern Han, but when the erstwhile enemy monarch balked at such an overture, dude, you were literally just attacking me, he was forced to strike out against Taizu on his own,

by which I mean as the head of an army of some 30,000. Not that it really mattered, since before the month was out, both his own son and several of his generals came out as opponents of his rebellion against the nascent Song, and within two months, his army was routed in the field by the imperial guard, Luzhou was captured, and Li Yun committed suicide rather than face capture. A similar fate would befall the other major dissident against the rising star of the Song, Li Chengjin, who was the late Guo Wei's nephew. From the great southern port city of Yangzhou, only recently annexed from southern Tang by later Zhou, Li Chengjin had been in talks with Li Yun about plans to simultaneously launch their rebellions and force Emperor Taizu to attempt to fend them both off in a pincer maneuver a thousand miles

apart. But the messenger he sent to Li Yun had defected en route and spilled the beans to the Song court, who instructed him to return to Yangzhou and attempt to delay his master's attack as long as he could. In the interim, Song delegates were sent to the courts of southern Tang with threats of massive retaliation against it should it attempt to intervene on Yangzhou's behalf. In the ninthth month of 960, sensing that he could delay no further, Li Chengjin was compelled to launch his rebellion, but it would prove to have been defeated before it even begun. Within two months, Yangzhou was captured by the Song,

and Li immolated himself and his entire family within their home to avoid imminent capture. 400 years ago, a trio of tiny kingdoms were perched on some damp islands off the coast of Europe. Within three short centuries, these islands would become the centre of an empire which ruled a quarter of the globe and on which the sun never set. I'm Samuel Hume, a historian of the British Empire, and my podcast Pax Britannica follows the people and events that built that empire into a global superpower. Listen to Season 1 to hear about England's first attempts at empire building, in Ireland, in North America, and in the Caribbean, the first steps

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everywhere you find your podcasts, or go to pod.link slash pax. The destruction of these two most powerful of Song's rivals, and so quickly at that, was enough to convince all other comers that it was super not in their best interest to think too terribly hard about any imperial pretensions they might be holding. The subsequent submission to Taizu's authority by even the most intransigent of his regional foes was returned in kind by the emperor allowing about 80% of the standing later Zhou governor-generals to retain their posts under him. With internal stability achieved and

all remaining provincial authority firmly under heel, Emperor Taizu was able to quickly pivot towards that long unattainable Chinese dream, reunification at long last. Before launching himself outward, though, there was one other factor that troubled Taizu deeply, and that was the military. Now, to be sure, Taizu was not fool enough to hobble the military. Quite the contrary, he well understood that he needed his army as strong as it could be, both to pressure the south into reunification, while at the same time guarding against northern aggression from possible Khitan resurgence. It was just that, well, this army hadn't exactly proven itself to be the most loyal thing ever, now had it? Its officers had acclaimed their

grand marshal as the new emperor and declared against their rightful liege lord. And never mind that it was Taizu himself who was the direct beneficiary of such a betrayal, that still is a pretty terrible precedent to just let hang in the air. After all, what was to stop another group of officers from doing the same thing again, but this time with his head on the chopping block rather than draped in yellow? And as a quick aside, since I'm talking about the possible fate of a deposed emperor, I should note that the former Later Zhou emperor, the six-year-old, was not executed, but instead exiled, where he lived another 14 years or so in quiet obscurity. So yeah, there's that.

Anyways, the specter of it could happen again loomed heavily over Taizu over the remainder of 960 and 961, and in classical usurper fashion, he decided to take action to close that particular door to power once and for all. From Lao and Huang, quote, Taizu began to assert his control over the military by depriving all commanders, particularly his own accomplices in the 960 coup, of the ability to threaten the throne. He first removed from office all but one of these top generals. Then he established permanent institutional control over the military by restructuring its command hierarchy to ensure that no single general could wield an unacceptable level of power. He also separated the military administration from the military command structure to ensure that no one except the emperor could exercise control of the military. He had crossed that bridge, and now he made to dismantle it as quickly as possible before anyone else could follow in his footsteps. Possibly the greatest

achievement in this regards, though, was at a wine-drinking party in midsummer of 961, during the course of which he lamented to his senior generals about the trials, tribulations, and overall burden of occupying the throne. He voiced aloud that he still worried near daily that, while of course he implicitly entrusted all of his senior command staff in the room right now, their own subordinates, those who had become pampered and spoiled thanks to Taizu's own efforts on their behalf, might someday get it into their heads to foist an imperial yellow robe upon one of them, by force surely, as had been the case with him. His generals, no doubt more than a few cups of

wine into the evening, responded that they'd never ever countenance such an action, at least not against Taizu, and begged the emperor how they might best assuage his fears, baseless though they certainly were. They'd walked right into the cage, they'd begun nibbling at the cheese, and now it was time for the trap to spring shut. Taizu launched into a philosophical monologue about how happiness in life, true happiness in this short, ephemeral time we have here on Earth, is based entirely on the amount of wealth and prestige that one is able to accumulate and then able to bequeath to their descendants to ensure their own well-being even after one is gone. Military command, political power, pah, they bring one nothing but headaches and quite often a shorter lifespan. Who would want that? That's the opposite of happiness. And happiness is what I want for all of you, my dear friends. I tell you what, give up this military life that obscures the true path to

happiness, and I'll make sure that each and every one of you is given more wealth and prestige than even your children's children will know what to do with. Heck, I'll even make sure that your families and mine will be joined together for all time through marriage. What do you say, hmm? And there was not much they really could say at this point other than, well, okay. The very next day, Taizu's generals, one and all, submitted their resignations, tellingly all citing the exact same reason for their sudden decision, ill health. And Taizu's generals, one and all, submitted their resignations, tellingly all citing the exact same reason for their sudden decision, ill health. And Paizu, a man of his word, made sure that they did all receive their cushy posts

and arranged marriages into the imperial clan, where they remained in extremely lucrative obscurity for the rest of their lives. With little more than wine and honeyed words, Paizu had single-handedly defanged the tiger within his own military, with, quote, the purpose behind these institutional maneuvers being to downgrade the command hierarchy, to divide responsibilities, to break the close and lasting links between commanders and their troops, and to elaborate the structure of surveillance and control, end quote. This breaking of ties was reinforced by Taizu's implementation of the gengshu fa, or rotation

system, which transferred officers and rotated soldiers in's implementation of the Gengshu Fa, or rotation system, which transferred officers and rotated soldiers in and out of the capital and provinces every three years to ensure that they didn't develop personal or regional loyalties greater than their loyalty to the throne itself. Further, the Song Emperor established a widespread network of political informants named the Huangcheng Su, meaning the capital security office. These commissars, composed primarily of eunuchs, were attached to every army that was dispatched on campaign, as well as those in the capital and stationed around the empire, with strict instructions to report any and all potentially seditious activity directly to the palace. Such a measure would seem to have borne fruit,

for instance, when in 967, reports came in from these capital security agents implicating the commander of the palace command office, no less than the sworn brother of Taizu, of maintaining a private force of soldiers. He quickly found himself out of a job. As an even further safeguard against military bamboozlement, Taizu was careful to keep a campaign's destination, path, and relevant maps of the region that they were headed a strict secret from even its officers until the evening of the campaign itself. One might think of him as a bit paranoid, but then again, he knew better than anyone else exactly what a particularly ambitious clique of officers could accomplish if given too much leash and half a chance. Insubordination was in any form punishable

by summary execution, as was excessive looting and killing when capturing a city. By early 963, Emperor Taizu of Song had consolidated his rule over northern China enough to begin thinking outward, with the goal of removing that pesky directional modifier north from his title. China would be made whole, it must be whole, and he would be the one to do so, whether it liked it or not. There were two possible paths towards that destination, and both glittered temptingly. First, there was the northern path, to destroy what was left of the rump state of Northern Han, and drive the Catan Liao out of China once and for all. Northern Han was a dead state walking, and its so-called Emperor Rui Zong having only barely escaped from the Battle of Gaoping in 959 with a mere 100 horsemen out of his army of 30,000, rendering him almost completely defenseless save for his long-standing relationship with the Liao.

Thanks to later Zhou victories over the Liao, this prospect seemed less threatening than ever, especially since the Liao emperor Mu Zong was the most ineffectual twit of the entire Khitan dynasty. He'd earned himself the nickname Shui Wang, the Dozing King, a derisive moniker referencing both his propensity to drink huge quantities of liquor and then sleep away the following day, or several, in a stupor, as well as his complete lack of military response to Later Zhou in 959, when Guorong had up and seized two prefectures and three mountain passes in Hebei, offering the truly pathetic excuse that, well, it used to be Chinese land, so I guess they can have it back.

It was a tempting possibility, total northern reunification, and it seemed to have been the option nearly all of his generals and officials backed. But there was another possibility, another path to victory, and it would come to Taizu as he trudged through a snowstorm at night in the dead of winter. The emperor, you see, had a long-standing habit of personally visiting the homes of his ministers and officials, to the point that his prime minister, Zhao Pu, wouldn't even take his official robe off at home for fear that the emperor might just drop by unannounced whenever. On this day, though, Minister Zhao was thinking that he might just be able to breathe easy, since the weather was so terrible. But just like the mailman, it seems that neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night

would stay Taizu from his appointed rounds. There was a knocking at his door, and upon opening it, Zhao Pu was astonished to find that Taizu was waiting out in the storm, with the icy wind whipping around him and his cloak layered in snow. Zhao hurriedly ushered the emperor inside and seated him before the house's stove, whereupon Taizu informed Zhao that his younger brother, Prince Guangyi, was to arrive shortly. Minister Zhao and his wife began to prepare grilled meats on the stove and offer their royal guests heated wine, which Taizu

gratefully accepted, calling her by the endearing term of sister-in-law. Prince Guangyi arrived shortly thereafter, and after he was offered the same refreshments, the three began conversing. Taizu put forth his idea of invading northern Han and the Liao, which he said many of his ministers urged him was the best course of action. But at this, Minister Zhao objected. Your Majesty, but northern Han serves us even now, acting as a barrier against the aggressions of the northeastern barbarians. Were we to annex the territory, weak as it is, we would then find ourselves the immediate neighbors of the Liao Emperor's raiding parties, and must divide our strength simply to keep them at bay. Instead, let us leave Han right where it is, as it can offer

no hope of resistance, and let it serve our ends for the time being. Instead, turn your army southward and destroy those weakened kingdoms beyond the Yangtze and thereby acquire their populations and riches to your cause before committing your strength to pacifying the north. At this, Taizu laughed and said, That is precisely what was in my mind as well. Really, I just came here to get your take on things.

In spite of the Liao Emperor's apparent indifference and Taizu's minister's urgings to the contrary, the threat of invading the north first was a real one. Northern Han forces did serve as a frontline defender of the Liao against southern aggression, and combined with the Khitan military response to their allies' call for aid, it was possible, likely even, that the Song armies could be bogged down in a costly and pointless stalemate, delaying or even halting entirely their plans against the south. And that really was a rather sunny disposition on the likely outcome of such a northward strike. Mongol historian Tuotua notes in the History of Song

that in terms of the cavalry alone, the Liao imperial army numbered a half million soldiers and were equipped with the best horses in all of Asia, whereas the Song armies could only muster 193,000 cavalrymen on inferior mounts. Now take those numbers for what you will, but the message is clear enough. The Khitan army was bigger and badder than the Song, and in the very likely event that they took exception to them invading their ally's territory, a stalemate would be a very good outcome for Taizu, in all likelihood. Moreover, the Chinese would by necessity be marching themselves directly into Liao's home turf, the flat plains of Hebei, where the horse lord's strengths would be maximized and the Chinese defenses weakest. There simply was no such potent threat from an initial invasion

of the southern kingdoms. The decision was clear as day. South it would be. Though politically centered in the north, as was tradition, it's critical to note that the Song dynasty marks the first time that the cultural, production, and population center mass of China will shift south of the Yangtze. The north had, to put it mildly, been utterly devastated once again by the half-century of warfare that had convulsed it, while the verdant southlands remained, if not exactly untouched, well then at least largely intact. In fact, in spite of the conflicts, as a whole, the South had emerged far better off for the Five Dynasties period than it had started, in no small part due to the populations fleeing southward to escape the terror of incessant

northern warfare, peasant farmer and scholar official alike. As Lao and Huang put it, quote, the southern kingdoms suffered far less from warfare than did their contemporaries in the north, As Lao and Huang put it, That is where we're going to leave off for today. Emperor Taizu of Song has seized the reins of empire and forged a brand new dynastic order. But this time, it's not going to be some flash-in-the-pan, one-and-done psych-out. It's the real deal. The Song dynasty will reign for 10,000 years. Or at least until some illiterate barbarian from Mongolia gets on his horse and unites the tribes with the promise of endless loot and plunder. You know, whichever comes first. In any case, next time, Taizu will begin his campaign to bring the Ten Kingdoms to an end and bring the Southlands to heel,

in the aim of once again demonstrating that the Chinese Empire, long united, may need to divide, but long divided, it certainly must unite. Thanks for listening. independent network of podcasts to connect you to more than a million curious, discerning, and extremely good-looking listeners each month. Interested? Of course you are. So, visit agorapodcastnetwork.com and discover the difference Agora can make. Presented as such. Grey History The French Revolution is a long-form history podcast dedicated to exploring the ambiguities and nuances of the past. From a revolution of hope and liberty to the infamous reign of terror, you can't understand the modern world without understanding the French Revolution. So search for the French Revolution today.