Troubles Within and Threats Without

On the fifteenth day of the first month in the ninth year of Zhaoning. The Imperial Palace of Great Tang was festively decorated with lanterns and colored streamers, yet beneath the glow of countless festival lanterns, many murky corners remained that had never once seen the light. By now, Emperor Zhao of Tang had grown from a small child into a valiant youth. Far taller than peers his age, at first glance he almost looked like a grown man. He sat in his study, seemingly absorbed in reading, yet within the flame before him was an ant-sized figure delivering a report through a thin thread of divine sense. At a certain point, Emperor Zhao's brows twitched upward, and he replied, "He went to the Empress Dowager's bedchamber again?!" At that instant, unmistakable murderous intent flashed in the young Son of Heaven's eyes. Right then, the study door pushed open silently, and a palace maid walked in, saying, "Your Majesty, it is time for your Yuan-Nourishing Broth." Emperor Zhao took the white jade nine-dragon bowl and drank it down in one gulp, immediately feeling spiritual energy begin to emanate continuously from the acupoints within his body. He set the bowl back onto the tray, and the young maid withdrew. Yet in the brief moments she had been inside, her divine sense had swept across every corner of the study. Emperor Zhao knew full well that this was an informant planted by his side. There were countless such eyes and ears around him, and inspections like this occurred at least seven or eight times a day. Yet a sovereign of the mortal realm had his own methods. Even under such airtight vigilance, Emperor Zhao still managed to nurture his own confidants. Once the maid departed, the figure in the candle flame emerged once more and reported, "Word just came in—that man has already left the Empress Dowager's bedchamber." A flush of blood suddenly surged across Emperor Zhao's face before settling back to normal. He declared, "Prepare my palanquin. I shall pay respects to the Empress Mother!" Receiving the command, the maids outside carried forward an enclosed palanquin and attended Emperor Zhao as he stepped in. The imperial palace was colossal and deep. Light flickered across the palanquin curtains along the way, and before reaching the Empress Dowager's bedchamber, they passed through a suffocatingly long stretch of pitch darkness. A full two quarters of an hour later, the palanquin finally stopped. Emperor Zhao entered the bedchamber and paid his respects. The Empress Dowager still looked like an eighteen-year-old maiden, the passing years leaving not the slightest trace upon her face or figure. Her expression was calm and composed, yet the young Son of Heaven caught sight of a lingering blush at the corners of her eyes. The Empress Dowager dismissed the servants, then asked, "Why come so late? Is there a matter of concern?" Emperor Zhao suddenly trembled slightly, gritting his teeth. "Empress Mother, when will there ever be an end to these days of being bullied like this?" The smile vanished from the Empress Dowager's face at once. She scolded, "Who taught you to say such things?" "No one taught me—it is my own thinking!" Emperor Zhao held his head high with stubborn defiance, revealing in that moment that he was, after all, still just a child. The Empress Dowager's face turned livid, and she said coldly, "Then you are forbidden from ever thinking it again! Go back. Study and cultivate diligently, so that in the future you may become an enlightened monarch." Emperor Zhao ground his teeth. "I am nothing more than a puppet, but let that be! If things continue like this, by the time I grow up, will Great Tang even still exist? Without Great Tang, what kind of Tang Son of Heaven could there be?" The Empress Dowager frowned. "Who told you all this?" "The King of Jin acts against all reason and decency, throwing the imperial court into chaos while the realm's common folk can barely survive! The Nine Kingdoms harbor wild ambitions, and warlord regimes carve up the land everywhere. The territory Great Tang actually holds doesn't even amount to ten thousand li! With such pitiful soil, how many soldiers can we support, how many subjects can we sustain? These are glaring facts—does anyone need to tell me? I only had to read a few history books to see it all clearly!" The Empress Dowager let out a soft sigh and said, "He has his own difficulties as well, and over these years he has already done well enough. Go back now. Focus first on your studies, and learn statecraft properly from the court ministers. Which affair of state isn't vastly complicated? It is not something a child like you can understand." Emperor Zhao silently offered a bow and turned to leave. "Stop!" the Empress Dowager called after him. Emperor Zhao halted, but did not turn around. The Empress Dowager said slowly, "The people you employ in secret are nothing more than peddlers of empty talk. Relying on them to achieve great things will never work." Emperor Zhao shuddered all over, but said nothing, walking straight out. The Empress Dowager let out a gentle sigh. At that moment, a figure stepped out from the rear palace—none other than the Regent King, who was supposed to have already left. His face was filled with anger as he stared at the palace doors and let out a heavy snort. The Empress Dowager came to his side, gently taking his arm, and said, "He is still young, after all, and he doesn't know the true relationship between the two of you. When he grows up and learns everything, it will naturally get better." The Regent King's face remained frosty, and he said slowly, "This boy was born untamable and rebellious to the bone. I fear even when he grows up, he will never warm to us. Let us do this: he has reached the appropriate age, so arrange an imperial marriage within the year. Siring a Crown Prince early is the only way to put the realm's minds at ease." At the words "Crown Prince," the Empress Dowager's face instantly went slightly pale. Early the next morning, clear reciting echoed in Emperor Zhao's study. Seated across from him was a Confucian scholar of distinguished bearing, his eyes half-closed and his head gently swaying as he listened to Emperor Zhao recite his texts. Yet beneath the sound of reading, divine senses were quietly exchanging thoughts. "Traitors bring ruin to the state, yet their power is immense. What guidance can you offer me, Teacher?" The scholar replied placidly, "This matter is simple. Great Tang is the master of all under heaven, where the grand tide of destiny lies. Your Majesty need only climb high and raise your arm in a rallying cry, and people of insight across the realm will flock to your side in droves!" "Yet the villainous king holds absolute sway over court and realm. Who can shake him?" The scholar remained as calm and unhurried as an immortal. "This is easy as turning one's hand! Today, the realm appears formidable outside but is hollow within, and the Imperial Guard is all flash and no substance. Thus, we need only secure powerful aid from outside and lead an army into the capital. The Imperial Guard will surely scatter at the mere rumor, and the villain will readily offer his neck." Emperor Zhao brightened. "Then who can shoulder such a momentous task?" The scholar said, "There are three readily available candidates. The premier choice is naturally Wei Yuan, Regional Military Governor of Qingming and Regional Military Governor of Yizhou! Next is Regional Military Governor of Zhenshan, Li Zhi, and Regional Military Governor of Huaiyang, Cui Encheng. Win over just one of them, and the realm will be secured." "Then how can we make them serve the imperial house?" "Serving Great Tang is their duty in the first place! Without the imperial court's investiture, where would the three of them get their titles as regional military governors? However, since Your Majesty is benevolent, if you are willing to bestow additional grace, then in this minister's humble opinion, why not bestow imperial kinswomen upon them in marriage? That way, their descendants would carry imperial blood. Given such heavenly grace, how could they dare not weep tears of gratitude?" Emperor Zhao finally nodded. "These are truly the words of a seasoned statesman planning for the realm. Teacher, your learning truly encompasses heaven and earth." The scholar smiled with modest restraint. "Without this small measure of skill, how could I dare presume to occupy the station of Imperial Preceptor?" Emperor Zhao then said, "Zhou Houli, Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Entertainments, is my maternal uncle's son. I have heard that he has been intelligent from youth, well-mannered, and skilled in poetry and prose. Can this man shoulder a great mission?" The scholar said, "I have read his poems; they possess the soaring spirit of a great swan. He is a talent worth cultivating. Your Majesty can issue an oral edict and dispatch him as an envoy to the three regions. Success will be within our grasp." Emperor Zhao harbored some hesitation: "This man has never shouldered heavy responsibilities before, having only held leisurely posts. Is it appropriate to suddenly entrust him with such a grave task? If word leaks out, the consequences would be catastrophic." "The First Human Sovereign hailed from origins no better than a slave, and the Gaozu of our dynasty was merely a county clerk before raising his banner. Great leaders can all rise from humble beginnings, so a lack of experience does not matter. As long as he is a true talent, given proper honing, he will naturally display his brilliance." Emperor Zhao was greatly heartened. "Indeed, that makes complete sense!" In Qingming Immortal City, Wei Yuan looked at several official documents on the desk before him, feeling a deep headache. One case involved a secret order placed for a batch of yellow robes kept in reserve. The issue was that even the fabric was specially crafted: the silk threads all came from silkworm groves reserved exclusively for the Tang imperial court, and the looms were imperial looms procured specifically for this purpose. Though far less advanced than Qingming looms, the silk produced had a distinct and unmistakable weave. This was by no means as simple as ordering a few garments; it was an order encompassing the entire industrial chain—from raw silk to fabric, dyeing, and tailoring. Tracing the matter upward led directly to Feng Chutang and Wang Hu. The officials in charge could investigate no further and reported it straight to Wei Yuan. Another matter concerned a small team that made a special expedition to the Domain of the Mountain Folk to unearth several blocks of raw jade with a hundred-thousand-year history. Through various high-end techniques, they artificially aged the jade by eighty thousand years, transforming it into an antiquity dating back one hundred and eighty thousand years. What made it even more outrageous was that they deemed artificial aging and dyeing insufficient—they actually imbued the jade with karma from one hundred and eighty thousand years ago! No matter who appraised it, they would conclude this was an exceedingly rare ancient relic from one hundred and eighty thousand years in the past. The very first time a shared sovereign of the human race ever used an imperial jade seal was precisely one hundred and eighty thousand years ago. That seal had been passed down to this day and was none other than the imperial seal of the Tang dynasty. Tracing this matter upward led right to Ji Liuli—besides her, no one else had the skill to attach karma from one hundred and eighty thousand years ago to raw jade. Looking further, investigators discovered she had teamed up with Feng Tingyu and was currently scouring the world for master craftsmen skilled in seal engraving. Naturally, Ji Liuli insisted there was zero connection between the two and that it was purely a coincidence. Looking over these files, Wei Yuan felt a throbbing headache. Inside his mindscape world, a group of people was tirelessly composing folk prophecies and burying bronze statues; outside the mindscape world, another crowd was tailoring imperial robes and hunting for imperial jade. Troubles within and threats without—it was nothing short of that. Right in the middle of his headache, Wei Yuan suddenly sneezed. Pinching his fingers to divine on the spot, his face immediately darkened with wrath, and he muttered, "Why is there always some unruly peasant plotting against Us?" At that very moment, a seemingly ordinary merchant caravan had just passed through the western gate of Tangdu, heading steadily in the direction of Jin and Zhao.