A Monarch’s Reluctance to Relinquish Power

In the twilight years of Emperor Zhenzong’s reign (r. 997–1022), the Song Dynasty faced a crisis of governance. The emperor, plagued by chronic illness, became increasingly incapable of managing state affairs, yet he stubbornly clung to power. When officials dared suggest abdication in favor of the crown prince, they faced exile or dismissal—until the renowned statesman Kou Zhun devised an unconventional plan.

Teaming with the emperor’s trusted eunuch Zhou Huaizheng, Kou fabricated a celestial decree—a “heavenly letter”—warning that Zhenzong’s refusal to step down would shorten his life. The superstitious emperor, shaken, initially agreed to abdicate. But when Zhou pressed him on the promised transition during an outing to the palace gardens on Er Yue Er (the 2nd day of the 2nd lunar month), Zhenzong erupted in fury. In a dramatic act of defiance, Zhou stabbed himself with a vegetable-digging knife, crying, “If Your Majesty doubts my loyalty, I shall cut out my heart for you to see!”

The incident hastened Zhenzong’s death. Zhou survived his wounds, only to be executed by the empress dowager for “treason.” Kou Zhun, implicated in the plot, was purged from office. This episode, recorded in Sima Guang’s Sushui Jiwen, reveals more than a power struggle—it opens a window into the rituals and seasonal rhythms of Song court life, particularly the long-forgotten Tiao Cai Jie (Vegetable-Picking Festival).

The “Vegetable-Picking Festival”: A Royal Spring Ritual

On Er Yue Er, the Song imperial family participated in an elaborate botanical game. Palace staff prepared ornate planters (hu) filled with wild greens—shepherd’s purse, sow thistle, and other edible plants—each paired with a silk scroll identifying the species. Participants, from empresses to eunuchs, competed to guess the plants correctly:

– For nobility: Correct guesses earned pearl-encrusted prizes; mistakes went unpunished.
– For servants: Errors meant lighthearted penalties—reciting poetry, singing, or drinking cold water.

This Tiao Cai (挑菜, “selecting vegetables”) ritual blended botany, gambling, and seasonal celebration. As Wulin Jiushi notes, aristocrats replicated the game in private gardens, while commoners simply foraged wild greens—a practice immortalized in paintings like Zhao Boju’s Spring Outing in the Imperial Garden.

The knives used to harvest these greens carried unexpected significance. When Zhou Huaizheng stabbed himself, he seized a tool meant for royal recreation—a symbol of how imperial rituals could suddenly intersect with deadly politics.

From Courtly Games to Public Celebrations

Beyond the palace walls, Er Yue Er marked the beginning of spring’s communal festivities:

### 1. “Dragon Heads Raised” (Long Tai Tou)
Though this phrase originated later in the Yuan Dynasty, Song people celebrated with seasonal foods:
– “Dragon Whiskers”: Fine noodles
– “Dragon Ears”: Dumplings
– “Dragon Scales”: Scaled-patterned pancakes

### 2. Private Gardens Open to All
From mid-February to early March (Hanshi Festival), wealthy families like that of a Jiangnan artisan opened their gardens to the public. Visitors enjoyed:
– Archery and swing sets
– Prize competitions (e.g., winning jade hairpins for games)
– A rare chance for commoners to admire elite horticulture

Historian Sima Guang, after retiring to Luoyang, allowed crowds into his modest “Garden of Solitary Joy”—though he refused tips offered by admirers.

The Social Legacy of Seasonal Cycles

The Song calendar wove agricultural, political, and spiritual life into a cohesive tapestry:

– Zhonghe Festival (1st day of 2nd month): Officials presented farming manuals to the emperor, emphasizing Confucian ideals of agrarian virtue.
– She Ri (Spring Prayer Day): Calculated as the 5th Wu day after Lichun, this movable feast featured:
– She Jiu: Ritual wine believed to cure deafness or hasten children’s speech
– Taboos: Sleeping late risked a “yellow face”; eating pickles doomed brides to embarrassing flatulence!

These traditions—from Zhou Huaizheng’s fatal confrontation to children’s garlic-necklaces for “quick calculation”—show how the Song Dynasty balanced cosmic order with human whimsy. Today, as China revives interest in traditional festivals, the long-lost Tiao Cai Jie reminds us that history’s most enduring legacies often grow from the humblest seeds—whether wild greens or acts of defiance.