This Imperial Brother Is Far Too Cunning

I transmigrated to the most prosperous era in history: the Northern Song.

I kept my head down and quietly built my strength.

I lay low for ten years.

Then I went to the capital, Bianjing, to take the imperial examination.

My name is Zhao Zhi. There's no one under heaven I can't handle, whether it's Empress Dowager Xiao of the Liao, Li Yuanhao of Western Xia, the Uighurs of Xizhou, or the various Tibetan tribes.

Even Liu E, the young empress dowager with the talents of Empress Lü and Wu Zetian, but none of their wickedness, is mine... Ahem. You want to wear imperial robes and attend court? Then wear them.

Make the Great Song mighty enough to swallow mountains and rivers, make every place touched by sun and moon Song territory, let the fierce generals of the Great Song fight through a hundred battles, let its scholars wear tall hats and flowing robes, and make every nation in the world come to pay tribute. That is my goal.

In the imperial court hall of the palace in Bianjing: "Your Majesty, Your Highness the Empress Dowager, envoys from the Byzantine Empire, the Holy Roman Empire, the Abbasid Caliphate, the Ghaznavid dynasty, the Fatimid Caliphate, the Samanid dynasty, the Chola kingdom, and other nations have come to pay their respects."