The layout of Tang Chang'an was square and orderly, with three city gates on each side for entry and exit.
But if you asked the common people of Tang what truly counted as Chang'an's main gate, the answer was almost always the same.
"Mingde Gate."
On the southern side of Chang'an stood Anhua Gate, Mingde Gate, and Qixia Gate, with Mingde Gate positioned at the very center.
Mingde Gate had five passageways. People of the time called it the Five Roads of the Son of Heaven, and it was also known as the National Gate.
Passing through Mingde Gate led directly to Zhuque Avenue, which ran north to south. Because it lay on Chang'an's central axis, stretched more than five thousand paces from north to south, and spanned over a hundred paces in width, it was also known as Heavenly Street.
Following this road north led to Zhuque Gate of the Imperial City. Continuing north through the Imperial City brought one to Chengtian Gate of the Palace City.
After entering Chengtian Gate and passing through Jiade Gate and Taiji Gate, one could proceed straight to Taiji Hall to pay audience to the co-ruler of All Under Heaven, the Son of Heaven of Great Tang, the Heavenly Khagan revered by countless states.
For foreign envoys, walking this entire route before finally meeting the Heavenly Khagan was already an honor to boast of when they returned home.
For victorious soldiers, marching along Heavenly Street to show their merits, presenting captives at Zhuque Gate, and then having their commander enter Taiji Hall to report achievements was likewise the height of glory.
Therefore, when the returning army temporarily stationed at the western gate heard the imperial order to circle half of Chang'an and enter through the southern gate, not a single man complained. Instead, they stretched their necks eagerly, growing even more impatient with anticipation.
"Xuebo, last year when we captured Jieli in that great victory, why did His Majesty not issue such an order?"
After dismounting and bowing to hear the imperial envoy read out the oral decree, Pei Xingjian asked curiously.
In the army, the only man Pei Xingjian would address as Xuebo, a title equivalent to a revered teacher, was Li Jing.
Training troops in Liangzhou, negotiating with the locals, buying off informants, gathering intelligence, then splitting forces to advance into Qinghai for the decisive battle, capturing the enemy leader, and finally rushing back without pause.
At sixty one years old, with white beard flowing, Li Jing's eyes were still sharp, but the fatigue beneath them could no longer be hidden.
With Pei Xingjian's assistance, Li Jing mounted his horse again. Hearing his disciple's question, he shook his head.
"His Majesty has always acted decisively. When we won at Dingxiang, the whole realm praised it, yet His Majesty called it vengeance washed away."
"Matters of washing away humiliation cannot be delayed."
He paused to catch his breath, then turned to instruct a deputy to pass down the order for the returning army to change route and head south to Mingde Gate.
Listening to the cheers of his troops, a fleeting smile crossed Li Jing's face.
Seeing that Pei Xingjian had also mounted the small green horse specially found for him, Li Jing tugged the reins to set his own mount moving and continued.
"But this time, destroying Tuyuhun is a true merit for the state. Naturally, we must take Heavenly Street and present captives at Zhuque Gate."
"To strengthen the might of Great Tang."
He bit down hard on the words "strengthen the might," then glanced at Pei Xingjian.
Half a year of wind and frost in Liangzhou still could not erase the youthfulness from that face. After all, the boy was only thirteen. Seeing this, Li Jing felt a trace of envy and spoke with deeper meaning.
"Once we enter Chang'an, you must remember to restrain yourself and not act rashly. Today's display of power and acclaim will not be the last."
Pei Xingjian nodded in a daze.
In the campaign against Tuyuhun, he had rarely charged at the front. But whether it was in formulating strategy, tending to wounded soldiers, or handling captives after victory, Li Jing and the others had not kept anything from him.
These experiences gradually stripped away the vanity he once carried as the so called prodigy of Hongwen Hall. A steadiness now showed through that did not match his youthful face.
Riding his small horse, lightly urging it to keep pace with Xuebo, Pei Xingjian felt a rush of emotions.
He still remembered last year, when His Majesty accepted captives at Shuntian Gate. The entire Chang'an had gone mad with celebration. The noble youths at Hongwen Hall had scattered to follow their parents to watch.
Pei Xingjian, afraid of being crushed in the crowd and unwilling to spend money for a wine tower seat, had instead stayed alone in Hongwen Hall, practicing calligraphy through a long and difficult day.
That day, he had sworn to make his name through literary fame.
As for earning merit on horseback, his father and elder brothers' fates had made him wary.
Yet fate was unpredictable. In just one short year, Pei Shouyue had become one of those being watched.
Time seemed to pass especially quickly while lost in such thoughts. Before he could replay them even five times, a thunderous roar exploded in his ears.
It was the cheers of men and women, old and young alike. The voices were chaotic, yet filled with overwhelming joy.
Looking out, every face was lit with celebration. Every gaze held admiration.
Some scholars acted the part of mad poets, using wine as ink, striking cups and singing wildly, bold and unrestrained, leading others in song.
Some young women wore the look of first love, bright eyes glancing about, exchanging meaningful looks, their voices blending like orioles and swallows.
Horses trod upon flowers that paved the road like brocade. Soldiers wore sachets that left lingering fragrance.
Only then did Pei Xingjian truly understand the meaning of Xuebo's earlier words.
But his wildly rising smile sent all thoughts of restraint and caution straight out of his mind.
Mad poets sang of his merit.
Young women admired him.
He nearly wanted to stretch out his arms and gather all this glory into his embrace, drowning in it completely.
But soon, the victorious soldiers began singing together the song they had already sung countless times on the road.
"Receiving the command from the sovereign, we go to punish rebel ministers.
All sing the Song of Breaking Formations, together to celebrate a peaceful age."
Three thousand voices roared the song with all their might, exploding in Pei Xingjian's ears and snapping him back to clarity.
When he turned his head, he met Li Xuebo's eyes, deep and still like an ancient well.
Amid such a thunderous chorus, no words could be spoken. Pei Xingjian only saw the general nod slightly at him, then join in the singing himself.
Pei Xingjian felt a trace of shame, but it was quickly replaced by a new ambition.
One day, he would be like Xuebo. One day, all of Chang'an would thunder with cheers for him alone.
Humming the Song of Breaking Formations, now fully awake, Pei Xingjian even had the leisure to turn his head and observe the captives escorted in formation.
The Tuyuhun khan and his relatives. Leaders of various tribes and their sons. The shamans who handled sacrifices and divination. And some numb faced, ragged slave workers. These craftsmen were the most valuable assets of those tribal chiefs.
The people of Chang'an did not bother humiliating the enemy. Unlike the Eastern Turks who had once reached the Wei River, most citizens barely even knew how to correctly pronounce "Tuyuhun."
Thus the Tuyuhun nobles showed varied reactions. Some trembled like sieves. Some looked around in curiosity. Others grinned foolishly and muttered nonsense.
Pei Xingjian could not help but worry.
It was said that Khan Fuyun had fled swiftly. Xue Rengui, whose horsemanship was slightly lacking, failed to catch him and was forced to fire artillery to block him.
Unexpectedly, that usually inaccurate cannon scored a lucky hit, blasting Fuyun's guards to pieces and frightening his horse into panic.
Fuyun fell from his horse and became dazed and foolish, like a simpleton.
How could he perform a dance for His Majesty like this?
In theory, Xue Rengui, for capturing Fuyun, should have returned to present captives and rank second in honors.
But Xue Rengui had righteously declared that Qinghai still needed full pacification and that Tibetan envoys sent to probe the situation needed handling. Thus he stayed behind and sent Pei Xingjian back with Li Jing.
So now, Pei Xingjian felt some tension.
The flower lined Heavenly Street was soon traversed. The towering Zhuque Gate loomed ahead.
Imperial Guards had already formed ranks along the wide avenue, clearing a massive open space before the gate tower.
From Pei Xingjian's low vantage, he could only see the imperial canopy and fans, and barely make out the various robes. The most striking were two figures at the front, one in reddish yellow, one in bright yellow. These were likely His Majesty and the Crown Prince.
His heart tightened.
Guided by the guards, Pei Xingjian carefully dismounted and followed behind Li Jing step by step, afraid of making a mistake.
Though he had not witnessed the Shuntian Gate ceremony, he knew the process well from history.
First, Li Jing formally reported victory. The speech was long and ritualized, repeated by officials for both imperial hearing and public proclamation.
This report also served as a summary of the campaign. The names of Su Dingfang and Xue Rengui were included. Pei Xingjian also heard his own name.
Though his merit was not great, he had at least been named before the Son of Heaven, which filled him with excitement.
As expected, the use of gunpowder and related matters were brushed over lightly. The people of Chang'an could not tell the difference anyway.
When the report ended, Li Shimin on the gate tower showed mild surprise.
"Fuyun has become a simpleton?"
No problem. In fact, a foolish Fuyun was even more beneficial for Tang control of Qinghai. The only regret was that he could not perform alongside Jieli.
After a brief aside, the ritual proceeded, and the captives were brought forward.
Li Shimin had seen many barbarians, arrogant and savage alike. But without exception, those presented as captives beneath the imperial city became compliant and skilled in song and dance.
The Tang had no kneeling for officials, but slaves and captives were the exception.
These former masters of Qinghai, who had ruled for over two hundred years, now knelt like the meekest lambs, allowing the victors to do as they wished.
At that moment, the people, who had remained solemn for the ceremony, could no longer contain themselves. At first, scattered shouts arose. Soon, it became a tidal roar toward Zhuque Gate.
"Long live the Emperor!"
Amid this imperfect chorus, Li Shimin closed his eyes in contentment. Then he clearly heard a discordant note.
Frowning, he looked and quickly found the source.
At the center of the captives, the former khan of Qinghai, Busabo Khan, ruler of Tuyuhun, Murong Fuyun.
He was kneeling there, hands raised, imitating the common people, shouting "Long live the Emperor" in clumsy Guanzhong speech, smiling broadly.
Li Shimin suddenly felt that a foolish Fuyun was not bad at all.
It was even rather amusing.
Presenting captives. Declaring crimes. Deciding fates.
The main commander entered the ancestral temple to report. The khan was then presented at the Grand Ancestral Temple.
Thus, the campaign against Tuyuhun officially came to an end.
Before nightfall, palace eunuchs had already cleared out the courtyard next to Jieli's.
Gaunt faced Jieli climbed onto the wall and watched as the eunuchs hastily cleaned the yard. Soon, a fat man with a strong stench of animal fat was shoved inside, along with several attendants dressed as steppe people.
Though confined in the palace, Jieli knew of Tang's campaign against Tuyuhun.
Could this be the Tuyuhun khan?
He had long known Tuyuhun could not block Tang's blade. But in his imagination, they could flee north if defeated. How had they fallen even faster than he had?
Thus, the former eastern Turkic overlord leaned over the wall and cursed loudly in Turkic. Then he switched to refined speech.
"How were you defeated?"
He then saw the fat man seem startled, pull his finger from his mouth, turn, and shout loudly.
"Long live the Emperor!"
The clear, loud shout startled Jieli so badly that he fell from the wall.
The man across seemed to find it hilarious and kept shouting it repeatedly.
Jieli lay on the ground, too lazy to get up. He rubbed his belly, which had not been properly filled in nearly a year. Listening to the shouts next door, countless sorrows rose in his heart.
After another great victory, Li Shimin handled matters with practiced ease.
He sent eunuchs to report the good news to the Retired Emperor. He ordered Empress Zhangsun to return and rest, as there would be a victory banquet that evening.
The Round Altar also needed sacrifice. Li Shimin ordered the ritual officials to proceed first and combine ceremonies later.
Then he summoned Li Jing and Pei Xingjian to Ganlu Hall.
Sitting back in his familiar chair, Li Jing let out a long breath. His expression was clearly more relaxed.
Seeing this, Li Shimin joked.
"If Yaoshi cannot bear the strain, you might as well seal the talisman and write military books instead."
Li Jing understood at once. Sealing the talisman meant sealing military authority and no longer going on campaign.
Absolutely not.
"Your Majesty, I just presented captives in armor and on horseback. Tonight I can still eat ten jin of meat with a dou of rice."
Li Shimin laughed loudly. Pei Xingjian, who had been as quiet as a quail, also relaxed a little.
Then Li Shimin asked the question on everyone's mind.
"How powerful are the gunpowder weapons?"
"There is nothing under heaven that can withstand their edge," Li Jing said solemnly.
Without waiting for Li Shimin to speak, he looked toward the map that haunted his dreams.
With such a new weapon, using it against barbarians was like using heavenly might. Perhaps only the far western empires could test the true limits of gunpowder.
If not for his age, Li Jing truly wished to lead Tang's armies against those great western powers, to see whether their heavy infantry formations could withstand firearms and elite cavalry.
But then his gaze drifted to the boundless seas on the map, and another thought surfaced.
"Your Majesty, how fares the Deng and Lai naval forces?"
Speaking of this, Li Shimin could not hide his smile.
"Liu Rengui and Li Shiji each lead a fleet. They range across the Bohai Sea, knocking on the gates of Baekje and Goguryeo, proclaiming sea borders."
He paused, smiling even wider.
"Baekje has submitted and sent envoys to repair relations. As for Goguryeo, Liu Rengui reported destroying several hundred fishing boats. He said it is not worth claiming merit."
Li Jing fell silent, then rose and said.
"Your Majesty established the Deng and Lai fleet to secure the eastern seas."
"But the southern seas are also rich. If we are to develop them, a fleet should be established at Zhuya. Your Majesty may lack a commander to hold it."
"Xue Rengui and Su Dingfang have both risen to fame in Qinghai. Under them are countless brave and capable men."
"I request to go to Deng and Lai to study naval warfare. Once accomplished, I will guard Zhuya for Great Tang and open the Southern Seas."
Li Shimin was surprised. Considering the old general's age, he wanted to refuse. But before he could speak, Li Jing cut in.
"Though I am old, later generations have told me I still have seventeen years of life. That is enough."
Pei Xingjian looked left and right, his face full of confusion.