Revista Semanal de Economia da Grande Song
Um homem chamado Li Chang'an entrou no mundo das reformas de Wang Anshi. O velho Wang ficou inconsciente várias vezes de raiva, Sima Guang foi levado à beira do colapso, Ouyang Xiu só queria se aposentar e voltar para casa, Wen Yanbo estava tão triste que batia no peito e pisava no chão. Su Shi o considerava um bom irmão, Zhao Xu via nele um grande salvador, enquanto Wang Pan o enxergava como um demônio que perturbava a Grande Song. Por causa dele, o Xixia pastoreou até consumir toda a relva das pradarias, tornando-se mendigos no deserto; os Khitan venderam diretamente as Dezesseis Prefeituras de Yan e Yun para adquirir seus métodos de governança; Dali pediu para se integrar, Tubo queria se tornar vassalo, a Coreia solicitou vassalagem, o Japão queria se tornar completamente Song... Não, ele só estava colocando em prática um projeto, nunca pensou em mudar o mundo!
Revista Semanal de Economia da Grande Song
In the capital of the Great Song Dynasty, Kaifeng, there appeared a living deity. Setting up a stall to tell fortunes, offering guidance to the lost, promising wealth and turning luck around—nothing was beyond his power.
Rumor had it he was the reincarnation of Zhao Gongming, the god of wealth; whoever crossed his path found fortune, whoever he pointed to found redemption. He had descended deliberately to bestow prosperity upon those fated to receive it.
From high-ranking ministers to lowly foot soldiers, all sought a divination from him, hoping to elevate their lives to new heights.
But the deity asked three questions. Fail to answer any, and your lifetime would be devoid of fortune. Moreover, this immortal was elusive, his whereabouts ever-changing and difficult to find.
Nineteen-year-old Emperor Zhao Xu of the Great Song was skeptical of such superstition. Though frauds abounded, what if this one were true?
The emperor himself was in dire need of money—and desperately so. The Song treasury had been in deficit for over twenty years straight. Debts outside the capital alone exceeded seventy million strings of cash, enough that even selling the throne wouldn’t cover it.
At last, they found a turncoat official, Wang Anshi, willing to levy state funds, yet he was being daily attacked in the council chambers until numb.
If a real deity could reveal a clear path, all would be freed from this burden!
Determined, Zhao Xu disguised himself and went to try his luck personally.
Outside the East City Gate, at the Five Barracks
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