4. How Dare You Rebel Against My House

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Not necessarily? There’s no room for doubt. Those close to Zhang Xun knew the truth: his so-called bravery was merely a result of a comfortable life and some genetic advantages. After all, the Zhang family of Jinling had risen since the late Tang and Yang Wu periods, prospering for over four centuries. With four hundred years of wealth and successive generations improving their lineage, success was inevitable.

When it came to martial skills—spears, clubs, fists—Zhang Xun was mediocre at best. He never trained seriously, at most capable of a simple flourish with a greatsword. The only skill worthy of mention was archery, but that was nothing more than the Confucian gentleman’s ritual of shooting at a red target one zhang wide; missing such a target meant there was no point in continuing.

He was merely a pampered son of a noble family, nothing to boast about.

Yet nowadays, many believed in the ideal of the Confucian warrior, venerating figures like Du Yu—who could neither ride a horse nor pierce armor—as deities, enshrining them in martial temples. Du Yu’s skills were undoubtedly commendable, earning praise as a “treasury of weapons” and master of all five arms of war. But there was only one Du Yu; many aspired to be Confucian generals in his mold.

With such a bureaucratic post in his name, no matter how urgent border matters became, Zhang Xun would never be conscripted for battle. The twelve volumes of military records held no mention of him.

Everything rested on his father’s support of the current ruler’s accession. As long as his father held office—rising to Vice Minister of Rites—bestowing official status upon wife and children would be assured. Otherwise, how could the Song dynasty afford its bloated army and bureaucracy, having issued official caps and headwear for over three centuries and greatly exceeding the necessary numbers?

Historically, after the crushing defeat at Dingjiazhou under Jia Sidao, the court, to appease the imperial students and martial arts students residing in Hangzhou and prevent unrest or criticism, handed out hundreds of official letters appointing them as minor officers, along with cash rewards—free of charge and plentiful. Any time traveler studying in Hangzhou would instantly become an official.

When the boat reached the estate outside the city—Zhang Xun’s family home—their conversation paused. The elder Zhangs owned a grand residence within Changzhou city as well, with half a street in Chunguifang named after the family. When five Zhang brothers all passed the imperial examinations together, the local authorities commemorated them by building an archway and street.

But as the family’s fortune swelled and the seven Zhang brothers rose to positions as prime ministers and high officials, the city residence became too small. The main family moved to the Zhu Xia estate outside the city, where landowners lived to better control the vast surrounding fields.

After all, a gentry’s foundation lay in both land and the imperial exams—the latter connected upward, the former rooted downward.

To endure and flourish, one must be firmly planted in the land, deriving wealth therefrom, then monopolizing local administrative, judicial, and legislative (village covenant) powers to achieve local autonomy.

The family was clearly aware of Zhang Xun’s feat in slaying the tiger; servants and retainers peered about, eager to glimpse the beast. Hearing the tiger had been sold openly in the city streets, they shook their heads, disappointed at missing such a spectacle.

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Zhang’s mother paid no mind to the tiger. After glancing at Zhang Xun from head to toe, she seated him and asked about Lu Xiufu’s official duties. “Quite well,” Zhang Xun replied, uncertain how to navigate the complex mother-son relationship.

After inquiring about Lu Xiufu, Zhang’s mother asked about Li Rang. Li Rang’s father was Zhang’s maternal uncle, belonging to the renowned Li family of Wuxi, one of the Three Wus.

During the Jingkang era, the distinguished prime minister and anti-Jin hero, Lord Li Hui Gang of Longxi, hailed from this family. Being allied by marriage with the equally famed anti-Jin Zhang family naturally meant Li Rang was also of noble resistance lineage.

Due to Li Rang’s reputation in Wuxi, when Lu Xiufu came to handle the conscription of armored soldiers, he wrote to ask for assistance. Changzhou governed four counties—Wujin, Jinling, Yixing, Wuxi—and the Jiangyin garrison, all wealthy regions. Each county contributed about a thousand armored men; otherwise, Li Tingzhi’s quota of five thousand would be impossible.

After discussing official matters, Zhang’s mother turned to Zhang Xun. “And how are you?”

“Very well, no tiger was eaten for breakfast,” he replied.

“That’s good,” she sighed. “My youngest son has grown sensible. Protecting the county by eliminating one hazard—soon you will have a voice in local affairs.”

Whatever he thought inwardly was irrelevant; on the surface, Zhang Xun immediately stood and bowed. “Mother, your admonitions are well-founded.”

There was no need to mention studying harder or changing his ways.

“My elder brother has already passed the imperial exams and holds office. Since this generation has preserved the Zhang family’s reputation, what need is there for me?”

“I’ll just be the family’s pampered son.”

If the Mongols invade, with such a vast family and a new dynasty rising, we either submit or vanish. Then I, the useless son, will be the first to surrender, and you all can secure an immortal legacy.

“Ah, that topic again…”

Better not mention it. The son has grown up, the son-in-law does well in office, and the eldest nephew has come home. Rarely is the Zhang family this full; some liveliness is only natural.

Since these were close kin, there were no obstacles—Zhang Xun’s sister and several nephews and nieces joined the feast. Having been married to Lu Xiufu for more than a decade, she naturally had many children.

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Poor things. When the time comes to surrender, who knows if they will be able to escape? If not, all will end up leaping into the sea at Yashan. Though feelings are faint, they are still known to him; compassion for one’s own kind is inevitable.

Seeing Zhang Xun suddenly fall silent, no longer jovial, Lu Xiufu—clear-headed—set down his silver cup and leaned close.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing. The northern harbor still has a fierce dragon; I must rest a few days before going to deal with it.” Zhang Xun could not say, “Please don’t be a martyr; let my sister and the children escape alive.”

“What is done today will be done tomorrow,” Lu Xiufu whispered upon hearing this.

“No need, no need. It’s not a big matter.” Indeed, Zhang Xun had no intention of fighting crocodiles personally.

“Master, master,” as they spoke, a familiar servant called for Zhang Xun from outside.

After all, Lu Xiufu was addressed as “Senator,” Li Rang as “Young Master Li,” but only at home was Zhang Xun called “Master Zhang.”

Glancing briefly, Zhang’s mother was playing with several grandchildren, gradually entrusting family affairs to Zhang Xun, not even raising her head.

Apologizing to Lu Xiufu, Zhang Xun went to the door. A few words revealed it was no great matter: a branch family had suffered losses after the county’s cloth requisition and wanted to borrow some from the main family.

Back when Zhang Shou was prime minister, all seven brothers passed the exams, bringing great honor. Naturally, the seven branches were established. Yet Zhang Shou’s line flourished continuously—Zhang Xun’s grandfather Zhang Yi retired as Minister of Revenue and overseer of temples, his father Zhang Xuexi died as Vice Minister of Rites and Secretary of the Privy Council, making them a family of four generations and three high officials. Other branches did not necessarily share such distinction.

“How did their losses come to fall on my family? They truly lack understanding. Tell them to come tomorrow; I will inquire further.”

With that, Zhang Xun dismissed the servant.