My father, Li Shimin, please call me Crown Prince

Chapter 396 I, Li Chengqian, am determined to feast at this Hongmen Banquet.

Changsun Wuji's idea was actually quite good.

Under the guise of paying respects to Empress Zhangsun, the Crown Prince was sent to offer sacrifices.

From any perspective, Li Chengqian had no possibility of refusing, and was even unable to refuse.

The only difficulty is that Li Shimin could not possibly agree to this.

When Changsun Wuji's words touched upon "the name of Empress Changsun," Li Shimin's jade paperweight suddenly made a crisp sound.

The flame on the gilded beast-head candlestick trembled violently, highlighting the sharp angles of his suddenly taut jawline, and the strand of new white at his temples looked like frost and snow in the candlelight.

"presumptuous!"

The sharp shout pierced the somber atmosphere of the palace, startling the bronze bells on the eaves, which trembled wildly in the night wind.

As Li Shimin turned around, the sound of his black dragon robe sweeping across the floor tiles was even more chilling than the dripping water from a water clock. He stared at the cold light emanating from the gold-embroidered xiezhi pattern on the hem of Changsun Wuji's robe, and suddenly recalled the banks of the Wei River in the ninth year of the Wude era, when he single-handedly repelled the Turks, and the amulet that Empress Changsun herself had embroidered hung at his waist.

“Guanyinbi…” His throat bobbed, the name like an icicle stuck in his mouth, impossible to melt or swallow. On the day of her burial at Zhaoling in the tenth year of Zhenguan, he leaned on the coffin and looked at the old jade hairpin in her hair. The twin lotus flowers carved on the hairpin had been worn away by time, just like their life from their childhood to becoming emperor and empress.

Before she died, she held his hand and said, "May Your Majesty be close to virtuous men and keep away from petty men." If he were to use her name to plot against his own son now, wouldn't that be crushing the "benevolent ruler" that she sought all her life on the altar?

The copy of "Zhenguan Zhengyao" on the desk was blown open by the night wind, and the page stopped at the "Accepting Advice" chapter. The scene of Empress Zhangsun advising him to dismiss Wei Zheng suddenly appeared in his mind: she was dressed in ordinary clothes and bowed to congratulate him, saying, "When the ruler is wise, the ministers are upright. Wei Zheng is upright now because of Your Majesty's wisdom."

If he were to use his beloved wife's name to commit treacherous acts now, how could he face those ever-clear eyes in the afterlife?
Li Shimin walked up to the "Tribute of All Nations" painting and pressed his fingertips heavily on the painting.

The dent was from when he was drunk a few days ago. At that time, Li Chengqian had just brought back news of victory from Goryeo. Someone in the court shouted, "The Crown Prince is like His Majesty!" He smiled and raised his cup, but his fingernails dug into his palm.

The word "like himself" was like a venomous snake coiled in his heart.

He knew all too well what "being like oneself" meant.

The lingering echo of the bowstring vibrating when he drew his arrow at Xuanwu Gate still startles him awake in the middle of the night.

The ruthlessness and scheming in Li Chengqian's eyes, even the way he held the military tally, were strikingly similar to his reflection in the mirror. But back then, he faced Li Jiancheng's relentless pressure; now, Li Chengqian is merely showing signs of ambition, and he's already using his father's position to raise the butcher's knife?

Changsun Wuji's words were like a blunt knife, cutting open the scars he had deliberately kept hidden.

On the fourth day of the sixth month of the ninth year of Wude, he rushed into Xuanwu Gate with Yuchi Gong. When he saw Li Jiancheng lying in a pool of blood, the image that flashed through his mind was the soft touch of his mother, Dou, on his head before she died.

If we were to take action against Li Chengqian at the Temple of Agriculture now, would he also see Guanyinbi smiling at him as she held the infant Chengqian in her arms the moment he ordered the capture of the Crown Prince?
When the water clock dripped at the third quarter of the hour of Chou (1-3 AM), the sound of the molten copper dripping suddenly overlapped with the sound of swords clashing in my memory.

He recalled how, when Li Chengqian was ten years old, he smashed an inkstone at the Hongwen Academy and cried, "I want to fight the Turks like my father."

I recall the way this child looked when he was fourteen and regent, deep in thought.

Those fragments of warmth crushed by power now gleam blindingly in the candlelight.

He could tolerate the crown prince forming factions and be wary of the crown prince holding military power, but he could not use "motherhood," the softest weapon, to drive his son to a dead end.

When Changsun Wuji picked up the official gazette, Li Shimin's gaze fell on the four words "The Crown Prince saved me."

The eulogies written by folk writers were like a red-hot iron, searing his fingertips. The triple-crop rice policy was indeed Li Chengqian's sharpest weapon, but this weapon cut not only through the people's plight, but also through the very boundaries of his authority as a monarch.

"If I use Guanyinbi's name, how will the people view me?" He suddenly laughed, his laughter tinged with self-mockery and hoarseness. "They have just elevated Chengqian to the status of Shennong, and I am setting up a scheme in his mother's name. Wouldn't that confirm my 'lack of virtue as a ruler'?"

The night outside the window was as dark as ink, and the palace walls of Taiji Palace showed a cold and hard outline under the moonlight, just like the emperor's heart that he had to harden at this moment.

During the Wei River Alliance, he single-handedly repelled the enemy, relying on the support of the people.

During the reign of Emperor Zhenguan, he created a prosperous era by respecting the principle that "water can carry a boat."

If, in the struggle for imperial power, one were to exploit the virtuous reputation of a deceased wife and destroy the illusion of "filial piety and parental love" in the hearts of the people, the popular support brought by the three harvests of rice would instantly turn into a raging fire of public resentment.

He may not care how history records the "Xuanwu Gate Incident," but he cannot care whether the name "Zhenguan" will be tarnished in his hands.

"Your Majesty, please calm your anger!" Changsun Wuji knelt down with a thud, the sound of his forehead hitting the gold brick startling the night owl perched on the beam. He stared at the wax seeping into the cracks of the floor tiles, remembering how his sister had hated extravagance, even allowing only half a piece of gold-embroidered fabric for the Empress's robe.

Now he wants to use her good reputation to set up a trap, just like using the peace charm she embroidered herself to hold poisoned wine.

As the memories of the dead gradually returned, looking at His Majesty's appearance, Changsun Wuji suddenly recalled some past events.

Before the pear blossoms in Xianheng Hall had all fallen, my younger sister always loved to sit under the eaves and teach him to read "Admonitions for Women." She would point to the "Women's Virtues" chapter and chuckle, "Brother, when you become prime minister in the future, you must not learn from those powerful ministers who mistreat the people."

At that time, he was still a young man who followed Li Shimin in conquering the world. He wore a peace charm embroidered by his younger sister on his waist and always thought that power and family affection could grow together like the twin lotus flowers in her hair.

Until the sixth year of the Zhenguan era, when he strongly advised the emperor to dismiss him from his position as prime minister, his sister sighed softly behind the screen: "Brother Wuji, you ultimately value the etiquette between ruler and subject more than the affection between brother and sister."

The fate of the Guanlong aristocratic families, the struggle for succession between the Prince of Wei and the Prince of Jin, and His Majesty's waning control.

These thoughts raced through his mind like a revolving lantern.

But when Li Shimin shouted "Insolence!", all his political calculations shattered into dust. He suddenly remembered that rainy night when he was keeping vigil at Zhaoling Mausoleum, and how he wept bitterly before his sister's memorial tablet.

Now, the same guilt overwhelms him like a tidal wave.

"Your Majesty, I have misspoke." He lay prostrate on the ground, his voice trembling like a withered leaf in the autumn wind.

The mythical beast pattern on the hem of his robe was distorted by the candlelight, as if it were breaking free from the brocade bindings and pecking at his conscience. He remembered his sister pointing to the annotation in "Zhenguan Zhengyao" that said, "Be close to virtuous ministers and keep away from petty men," and saying to him, "Brother, the danger of powerful ministers lies in forgetting their original intentions."

Only then did he realize that he had long since lost his sister, who had sewed quiver for him in the military tent, while he was in the labyrinth of power.

I don't know when it started, but my sister's memories have been fading away.

For Changsun Wuji, it was more of an identity.

But clearly, he and his sister had such a good relationship back then.

That 'How dare you!'

This caused Changsun Wuji to suddenly wake up.

That's my own sister! How could I use her name to harm her child?

Changsun Wuji secretly raised his head and saw the desolation in the Emperor's back. He suddenly remembered that after the Xuanwu Gate Incident in the ninth year of Wude, his sister knelt in front of him holding the newborn Li Chengqian: "Brother Wuji, please protect Chengqian. He is the Emperor's eldest son and the apple of my eye."

He had promised so readily then, but now he was to personally offer this precious child to the altar. "Issue the decree."

Li Shimin suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with weariness yet unusually firm.

"The matter of offering three harvests of rice at the Altar of the God of Agriculture is approved. The Crown Prince shall lead all officials there. The Right Golden Guard and the Imperial Guard shall each send three thousand men to be stationed on both sides outside the altar. They shall not move without my decree."

Changsun Wuji looked up in surprise, only to see Li Shimin had already walked to the window, gazing at the night sky in the direction of Zhaoling.

There were no stars there, only thick clouds shrouding the mountains. He recalled how His Majesty had once climbed the Lingyan Pavilion alone on the anniversary of Empress Zhangsun's death, sitting in front of her portrait until dawn, clutching in his hand a fragment of the "Admonitions for Women" that she had copied during her lifetime.

"Wuji."

Li Shimin's voice suddenly became as soft as the night breeze: "Chengqian is my son and the Crown Prince of the Tang Dynasty. Even if we want to pluck this thorny fruit, we shouldn't do so in his mother's name."

As he turned around, the tears in his eyes were blurred by the light and shadow: "Guanyinbi has never asked me for anything in her life. I cannot let her watch us, father and son, kill each other in the afterlife."

Silence returned to the palace, broken only by the dripping of the water clock and the distant clanging of the night watchman's clapper. Li Shimin picked up the wolf-hair brush from the table, its tip hovering over the blank imperial edict, remaining motionless for a long time.

Ink dripped onto the three characters "Xian Nong Tan" (Altar of Agriculture), spreading out in a dark ripple, just like the surging, unspeakable imperial heart he felt at that moment.

Power and strategy can be used to scheme against the world, but they cannot calculate the warmth flowing in one's blood.

A blade can sever rebellion, but it cannot sever the lingering sandalwood scent left by the person beside you in bed.

Li Shimin neither wanted nor was willing to win in this way.

Even if we win, what then? How will we face Guanyinbi when we go to the underworld?

He can't do something like that.
-
The following day, Li Shimin's edict arrived at Daming Palace.

Li Chengqian frowned slightly and summoned everyone to discuss the matter.

“Your Highness, the imperial edict clearly states that ‘the seeds of triple-crop rice are a national treasure and should be offered as a sacrifice to Heaven at the Altar of the God of Agriculture, with the Crown Prince presiding over the ceremony and all officials in attendance.’”

Du He lowered his voice: "But I have learned that the Imperial Guards have sealed off Yongle Ward and Jing'an Ward around the Temple of Agriculture today, saying that they are 'clearing out irrelevant people in preparation for the grand ceremony'."

Zhao Jie sneered: "Blocking up the markets? Your Majesty has turned the mandala into a jar! When Emperor Wen of Sui set up the 'Feast at Hongmen' to capture the Turkic envoy, he also cleared the area before taking action!"

"Your Highness, we must not go! Once we step into the Temple of Agriculture, the Right Golden Guard will be blocked outside. If His Majesty wants to make a move, we won't even have a chance to draw our swords!"

Anyone with eyes can see that this is His Majesty's scheme.

Or perhaps it was a sacrificial ceremony performed for the crown prince.

The method of using the Crown Prince's three-crop rice harvest will still be adopted.

If we can capture the Crown Prince, imprison him, or even control him, what use would having more troops be?

Li Yuanchang nodded in agreement: "Zhao Jie is right. Do you remember the rebellion of Yang Wengan in the seventh year of Wude? Emperor Gaozu also summoned Crown Prince Jiancheng to Renzhi Palace for a 'questioning session,' but in reality, he had already prepared an ambush. Now Your Majesty is using the same trick again. The altar of the Temple of Agriculture is probably even more dangerous than the stone steps of Renzhi Palace."

Li Chengqian suddenly laughed, and his laughter echoed through the empty palace.

He rose and walked into the hall, his black python robe trailing across the gold-brick floor.

"Tongguan has twenty cannons, Luoyang is garrisoned with 30,000 Liao soldiers, Chang'an has 60,000 elite troops, and 200,000 Liaodong troops are ready for battle. My Right Jinwu Guard controls the eight gates of Chang'an, and the gunpowder workshop has 5,000 elite soldiers on guard day and night. If Father really wants to take action, would he choose a place like the Temple of Agriculture?"

Du He stepped forward and whispered, "Your Highness, all's fair in war. Didn't His Majesty choose the palace for the Xuanwu Gate Incident back then? Now, with 30,000 Imperial Guards, plus the loyal old troops of the Golden Guard, what if they set up an ambush at the altar..."

Li Yuanchang frowned: "Your Highness, how can the heart of an emperor be measured by kinship? Back then, Emperor Wu of Han instigated the witchcraft incident for Crown Prince Wei, did he ever think of his own flesh and blood?"

"Emperor Wu of Han?"

Li Chengqian sneered, picked up the official gazette from the table, and pointed his finger at the four characters "Crown Prince, save me."

"That's because Crown Prince Wei doesn't have rice seeds for three harvests a year. Right now, rice in Chang'an costs four coins a bushel, and the people worship me like Shennong. If Your Majesty were to arrest me during the Heaven-worshiping ceremony, wouldn't that confirm your 'lack of imperial virtue'? The Shandong gentry are already dissatisfied with the Guanzhong aristocracy, and they will surely use this as an excuse to make trouble. If the canal transport from Jiangnan were to stop, what would the millions of soldiers and civilians in Guanzhong eat?"

Zhao Jie was still puzzled: "But what if Your Majesty uses force to imprison His Highness?"

Li Chengqian chuckled.

"Didn't the imperial edict say that the Right Jinwu Guard and the Yulin Army would each send three thousand men to be stationed on both sides outside the altar?"

"Three thousand soldiers are enough. In a place like the Temple of Agriculture, surely three thousand soldiers can protect me?"

"Moreover, if His Majesty really takes action, it will be a good thing for us."

Li Chengqian had enough confidence, which stemmed from his trust in his own martial prowess.

Perhaps because he had been the crown prince for so long, always in command, many people had forgotten that when the lame crown prince sat on his horse, he was an invincible general on the battlefield.

Whether it's Yuchi Jingde or Cheng Yaojin.

They were top-notch generals of the Tang Dynasty, but Li Chengqian didn't take them seriously.

Of course, if Erfeng really makes a move, Li Chengqian's main intention is not to fight her to the death.

If he wants to retreat, who can stop him without artillery?

Conversely, if Erfeng truly becomes confused and takes action during the Heavenly Sacrifice, then the 'righteous cause' will fall to Li Chengqian's side.

If they had gone through Xuanwu Gate at that time, that would have been the truly legitimate way to 'purge the emperor's inner circle'.

"My subordinate understands."

Du He suddenly bowed: "His Majesty does not want to kill Your Highness, but to force Your Highness to 'lose virtue.' If Your Highness refuses to attend the sacrifice, it will be 'disregarding national laws and showing no respect for the emperor.' If Your Highness goes with a large army, it will be 'your rebellious intentions are known to all.' Only..."

Li Chengqian continued, "The only solution is to deal with it calmly."

"This is a gamble, a gamble that His Majesty would not dare to bear the infamy of killing his son during the sacrificial ceremony, and a gamble that the people's support for the three-crop rice harvest is substantial enough."

Upon seeing this, Zhao Jie hurriedly said, "But Your Highness, what if His Majesty truly intends to kill us..."

Li Chengqian shook his head slightly: "It would be even better if it were done."

(End of this chapter)