The Southern Consolidation and Strategic Patience

Following the conquest of the Southern Tang in 975, only two nominally independent regimes remained in southern China: Wuyue and Zhang-Quan (also called Qingyuan Army). Conventional wisdom suggested Emperor Taizu of Song (Zhao Kuangyin) should swiftly eliminate these holdouts to complete southern unification. Yet, uncharacteristically, he allowed them to persist—a decision rooted in pragmatism and long-term strategy.

Wuyue’s ruler, Qian Chu, had proven his loyalty by actively supporting the Song campaign against Southern Tang, even besieging Jinling (Nanjing) as a key ally. Meanwhile, Chen Hongjin of Zhang-Quan had long positioned himself as a vassal, sending tributes and his son to Kaifeng to reaffirm submission after Southern Tang’s fall (as recorded in Xu Zizhi Tongjian Changbian). Crushing such compliant regimes, while militarily straightforward, would undermine Taizu’s reputation for magnanimity and his vision of “peaceful unification.”

A revealing incident sealed this approach: Southern Tang’s last ruler, Li Yu, had warned Qian Chu in a letter, “Today it is me; tomorrow it will be you. Once Wuyue is absorbed, what reward awaits you? Merely a commoner’s robe in Daliang (Kaifeng).” Qian Chu forwarded this to Taizu—a shrewd move to preempt suspicion. The emperor, unwilling to validate Li Yu’s prophecy, opted for patience, confident these regimes would eventually surrender voluntarily.

The Luoyang Gambit: A Contested Vision

In early 976, Taizu announced an inspection tour to Luoyang, ostensibly to worship at his father’s tomb and conduct suburban sacrifices. His true intent, however, was clear: relocating the capital westward. The proposal ignited fierce opposition.

Li Fu, an imperial diarist, submitted an eight-point memorial (Xu Zizhi Tongjian Changbian), citing Luoyang’s decayed infrastructure, inadequate granaries, and logistical nightmares. Taizu ignored him. Next, military commander Li Huaizhong argued that Kaifeng’s Grand Canal sustained the empire, transporting millions of hu of grain annually to feed the capital’s armies. Abandoning this lifeline would be folly. Again, Taizu stood firm.

The climax came when Taizu’s brother (and heir apparent), Zhao Guangyi (later Emperor Taizong), objected. Taizu revealed his deeper rationale: “Moving west is about leveraging natural barriers—mountains and rivers—to reduce armies and emulate the stability of Zhou and Han dynasties.” Guangyi countered with a Confucian axiom: “Rule depends on virtue, not terrain.” Stunned into silence, Taizu eventually relented but prophesied: “Within a century, the people’s strength will be exhausted.”

Kaifeng vs. Luoyang: The Geopolitical Calculus

### Why Kaifeng?
1. Historical Momentum: Inherited from Later Zhou, Kaifeng had been rebuilt by Emperor Shizong into a triple-layered metropolis (outer city, inner city, imperial city), ready to host a unified empire.
2. Economic Arteries: Four critical canals—especially the Bian River—linked the Yangtze Delta’s wealth to the capital, feeding its massive garrison (half the national army). As Taizu quipped to Qian Chu: “My three treasure belts? The Bian, Huimin, and Guangji Canals.”
3. Military Reality: Post-938, the loss of the Sixteen Prefectures to the Khitan Liao left the Central Plains exposed. Kaifeng’s eastern position was vital for rapid response, despite being a “four-battleground” flatland vulnerable to cavalry raids.

### Luoyang’s Fading Glory
Though a natural fortress ringed by mountains and passes (Mangshan to the north, Luoshui to the south), Luoyang had declined since the An Lushan Rebellion (755–763). Its canals were silted; supplying a capital there would strain an already fragile system. As geographer Vaughan Cornish later theorized, a capital needed crossroads, granaries, and defenses—Luoyang now offered only the last.

The Hidden Power Struggle

Beneath the geographic debate simmered a dynastic crisis. By 976, Zhao Guangyi had spent 16 years as Kaifeng’s mayor, cultivating a vast network. His influence was palpable: even the blunt general Dang Jin, known for releasing captive birds, groveled when confronting Guangyi’s falconer (“Care for it diligently—keep it safe from cats and dogs!”).

Historian Wang Fuzhi (Song Lun) argued that Taizu, sensing his brother’s encroaching power, saw relocation as a way to escape Guangyi’s shadow without open conflict. The “virtue over terrain” rebuttal may have been a pretext; Taizu’s retreat suggests either defeat in this political duel or a theatrical warning to his ambitious sibling.

Epilogue: A Legacy of Unanswered Questions

Taizu returned to Kaifeng in April 976—and died mysteriously months later, succeeded by Guangyi (Taizong). The “axe and candle shadow” incident, shrouded in intrigue, became one of history’s great unsolved mysteries. Had the capital moved, Song’s fate might have diverged; instead, Kaifeng’s vulnerabilities were laid bare when the Jurchen Jin sacked it in 1127. Taizu’s prophecy of exhausted resources eerily foreshadowed the Northern Song’s collapse.

The 976 debate thus transcended urban planning: it was a pivotal moment where geography, power, and dynasty intersected, leaving echoes through Chinese history.