Chapter 140: Not Foolish

"Sister Yuejiao, with this horse, there is a good chance my father's position will move up a notch." Tang Renxian already viewed that horse as safely in his grasp.

"Really?" Shen Yuejiao was overjoyed; this was the happiest news she had heard all day.

Well, even happier than her father getting a promotion.

Tang Renxian nodded and said nothing more.

At the mere thought of the long-awaited steed of a thousand li beckoning to him, Tang Renxian felt a surge of excitement.

"Once the horse is in hand, Father will present it personally to the Prince of Runan's Manor. If His Highness is pleased, Father's position really might be elevated. It might even secure me an official post." Tang Renxian felt thoroughly pleased with himself.

Many people knew that the Prince of Runan's Manor prized fine horses, but good horses were hard to come by, and a steed of a thousand li was even rarer. Neither Western Xia nor the Liao Dynasty would ever allow a thousand-li steed to cross their borders.

The only such horse belonged to Cui Ming, but he carried the surname Cui.

In the early years of the Western Zhou dynasty, Jiang Shang, a descendant of Emperor Yan, was enfeoffed in Qi and created a duke for his meritorious service in assisting King Wen and King Wu in overthrowing the Shang and establishing the Zhou. Several generations later, during the time of Duke Ding of Qi, his legitimate eldest son, Jiang Jizi, was entitled to inherit the ducal title, but he declined it and yielded to his uncle, Shuyi. After Shuyi ascended to the throne, he bestowed upon Jizi the rank of Qing Dafu and granted him Cuiyi (present-day Cuiqiu Village, Weiqiao Town, Zouping County, Shandong Province) as his fief. From then on, Jizi's descendants settled in Cuiyi, and later generations adopted the name of the fief, Cui, as their surname, which eventually evolved into today's surname Cui.

After acquiring the surname, generations of the Cui family held prominent official positions in the state of Qi, making them one of the preeminent aristocratic families of that era.

After the Eastern Han dynasty, both the Boling Cui clan and the Qinghai Cui clan were renowned elite families of Shandong. During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, when pedigree and lineage were highly regarded, the Cui family was ranked among the top-tier noble clans known as "Cui, Lu, Li, Zheng, and Wang." By the early Tang dynasty, among the top seven prominent clans nationwide, the Cui family accounted for two: the Boling Cui and the Qinghai Cui.

It was only during the Song dynasty that the Cui family declined. Moreover, the decline of the Cui family can hardly be attributed solely to dynastic changes. Although Cui Hao served as the Grand Tutor of the Northern Wei and history records that he was executed by the emperor, could an emperor's execution of a single man cause an entire illustrious clan to fall into decline? Especially given that dynasties had already changed. Could the affairs of the Northern Wei possibly affect the people of the Song dynasty?

Probably not.

Yet such records still exist in history books.

Cui Hao had conflicts with the crown prince, who openly supported Buddhism, whereas Cui Hao was determined to eradicate Buddhism completely. Why would Cui Hao act in this manner? The reason was simple: the total extermination of Buddhism was the emperor's own wish, and Cui Hao was merely the executor. Therefore, faced with the crown prince's opposition, he had no choice but to carry out the order.

Not long after Cui Hao's death, Buddhism gradually came to dominate the Northern Wei. We can easily imagine the immense influence and power represented by Buddhism. The scale of the backlash a man might face when single-mindedly trying to crush this power to death is also easy to imagine.

Cui Hao urged Emperor Taiwu of Northern Wei to execute all Buddhist monks in the realm and destroy all Buddhist scriptures and statues. Emperor Taiwu followed his advice. Kou Qianzhi (the Daoist leader highly praised by Cui Hao) desperately tried to dissuade him, but Cui Hao refused to listen. Viewed from this perspective, it would seem that Emperor Taiwu destroyed Buddhism entirely due to Cui Hao's persuasion. However, the real reason was obviously not so simple. In a sense, Emperor Taiwu already had this inclination, and Cui Hao merely gave it his utmost support. Faced with such actions, even Kou Qianzhi, the Daoist leader whom Cui Hao held in such high regard, was terrified, knowing the backlash this could provoke would be staggering. Putting aside the inherent influence of Buddhism, just looking at the crown prince's staunch support for it, anyone who vehemently advocated a theory of eradicating Buddhism was destined for misfortune.

Unless the crown prince was deposed, or unless he died before the emperor. Otherwise? If the crown prince became emperor, cherished Buddhist teachings, and risked angering the former emperor to safeguard Buddhism, while you had single-mindedly incited the former emperor to ruthlessly suppress Buddhism—what kind of situation was that? It was as simple as one plus one equals two. Not to mention Cui Hao's intelligence; even an ordinary person like any of us would surely know the consequences of such actions.

Yet Cui Hao ultimately had no choice. Thus, he could only walk this obviously hopeless path to the bitter end, for he was merely the emperor's hunting dog. The death of Cui Hao was clearly far more complex than a single sentence in history books might suggest.

Regardless of how little time had passed since the Northern Wei, even the Song dynasty revered Daoism, and very few people dared to harbor designs against the Cui family.

There were plenty of Buddhists who were unafraid of attaining premature bliss, but these men were not among them. They would never take the risk of offending the emperor.

Not to mention that reverence for Daoism was the state policy of the Great Song, a matter of political correctness, the foundation of the state, and the source of the Son of Heaven's legitimacy.

They wanted this horse, but they absolutely could not seize it by force.

A horse race was just right—open, aboveboard, and legitimate. It also made giving it away feel safe. Otherwise, given the reputation of the Prince of Runan's Manor, if the horse had been stolen, they probably wouldn't even let you through their gates.

A horse race it was! And the wager was placed on Cui Ming's horse.

That horse was exceedingly famous. Moreover, although the Cui family's glory days had passed, he still bore the surname Cui. His ancestors had owned thousands of mu of fertile land, which had dwindled down to just eighty mu solely for the sake of raising horses. Was even this horse no longer going to be protected?

"I knew it. With such a fine horse, how could nobody have designs on it? Perhaps the decline of his family estate was even orchestrated by certain people on purpose."

As soon as this news broke, a host of self-proclaimed "truth-seekers" emerged from the woodwork.

"No way. In broad daylight, would they dare do such a thing?"

Where there were "truth-seekers," there were naturally those who defended the laws of the imperial court.

"Why wouldn't they? The grand general under him is a genuine Northern horse. It was a gift from the Khitans; even the horses in the imperial stables cannot compare to it."

"With no men and no horse to match, how can he possibly compete? He's bound to lose."

Even if one were reluctant to believe it, the way Zhao Zhao mounted and rode the horse... sigh! There was nothing more to be said.

Instead of wasting time on this, one might as well place a bet. The people of the Great Song were quite fond of gambling.

"One hundred to one? How are you even running this wager? How is anyone supposed to bet on this?"

Some busybody opened a book, taking bets on who would win and who would lose. But damn it! One hundred to one—what was the point of betting? Wasn't it glaringly obvious that the old gentleman was destined to lose?

"Not one hundred to one? If you're running the book, I'm buying." The bookmaker showed no intention whatsoever of altering the odds.

The person who had been shouting fell silent.

Everyone wasn't blind. Anyone with discerning eyes could see that the old gentleman was not an accomplished equestrian; his riding skills amounted to nothing more than making a horse trot without falling off.

"Hey! Are you buying or not? If you aren't, let someone else place their bets!"

"I'm buying! Why wouldn't I? I'm putting down one hundred guan on Young Master Tang to win!"

"Humph, humph," the bookmaker grunted twice as he collected the stake.

The man dropped his wager, looking somewhat awkward, but no matter how awkward he felt, he wasn't going to bet on Zhao Zhao.

If he bet on Tang Renxian, he might actually win a little something, but betting on Zhao Zhao...

He turned his head to look at Zhao Zhao's riding posture. Oh! The form looked decent.

But it was all show and no substance!

Betting on him for real—how was that any different from throwing money into the water?

The man shook his head; he wasn't that foolish.