Ganlu Hall descended into complete chaos.
Li Ji instantly forgot all of his complaints about screen time. The revelation was so absurdly enormous that his mind struggled to keep up with it. His mouth hung slightly open as he stared at the light screen, still trying to decide whether he had actually heard it correctly.
"Holy shit... this is too big. I think my brain just crashed."
Nearby, Su Dingfang swallowed whatever remarks he had been preparing about his terrible luck.
Am I even supposed to know something like this?
He glanced around nervously, half expecting someone to arrest him simply for being present when the secret was revealed.
Even Li Jing froze. His hand stopped halfway to his beard as he looked from Li Shimin to Zhangsun Wuji and back again, quickly calculating the safest possible place to focus his attention. After a moment, he settled on the ceiling.
You two are too loud... oh boy.
Yuchi Jingde somehow managed to maintain a perfectly expressionless face. Unfortunately, his eyes had widened to proportions his face had never previously attempted.
Across the hall, Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui exchanged a single glance.
Fang Xuanling, tell me you have an explanation.
What explanation? I do not have one. This is too sudden and far too... actually, never mind.
An entire conversation passed between them in the span of a heartbeat. Both men lowered their heads at the same moment and began studying their completely blank scrolls with the intense concentration of scholars searching for a grammatical error that did not exist.
Qin Shubao suddenly bent forward in his chair and clutched his stomach.
"Ah! My old wound!" he groaned dramatically. "It is acting up again!"
Yuchi Jingde glanced at him without turning his head.
"That wound is from twenty years ago, Shubao."
"It is remarkably persistent," Qin Shubao replied without missing a beat. He tightened his grip on his stomach and groaned again. "And it tends to flare up whenever I hear something I was never meant to hear."
Not far away, Yan Lide felt his hand twitch involuntarily. He immediately lowered his head and began drawing perfectly straight lines across a sheet of parchment. When he risked a glance at his younger brother, he nearly suffered heart failure on the spot.
Yan Liben was painting.
Not casually painting, either. He was painting with the fervor of a man receiving divine revelation. His brush flew across the page while excitement flushed his face. Every stroke carefully preserved this exact moment of imperial humiliation for future generations.
Yan Lide hissed through his teeth.
"Liben. Put the brush down."
"Brother, this is history," Yan Liben whispered back, his eyes shining. "Future generations will thank me."
"They will thank us by laughing while our entire family is thrown into prison. Put it down."
"Just one more stroke."
"Liben."
Fortunately for the artist, the two principal victims of the unfolding disaster were far too distracted to notice that unauthorized historical documentation was already underway.
"Deposed Empress Wang to crown Wu? Crowning Wu Zetian? As Empress? Not Empress Dowager?"
Li Shimin was on his feet. His voice had done something it very rarely did.
The light screen was perfectly clear. The narrator's voice left no room for creative interpretation. Li Shimin now understood exactly what had happened in the years following his death.
In the span of one breath, the composed and open-minded ruler of the Zhenguan era ceased to exist. What replaced him was a man who was extremely, personally upset.
"How could he!"
"How is this possible!"
"How dare he!"
A specific line from the narrator came back to him with sudden, terrible clarity.
Emperor Li Zhi felt completely satisfied after his frequent visits to a local nunnery.
At the time Li Shimin had filed this away as an eccentric and slightly embarrassing hobby. He already knew later generations mocked Li Zhi for tweaking temple names and padding posthumous titles with unnecessary words. The nunnery detail had seemed like more of the same, a minor character quirk, nothing alarming.
He now understood that he had been catastrophically wrong.
"What nunnery!" Li Shimin's foot connected with his desk. "He was meeting secretly with Consort Wu!"
Fang Xuanling kept his head down. He buried his complete agreement somewhere deep in his chest and pretended he had not heard a word.
Du Ruhui genuinely wanted to say something helpful. He could not locate a single safe entry point into this particular conversation.
Every minister in the room had a first-rate political mind. The math took approximately three seconds. Only five years separated the death of Li Shimin from the controversial installation of Empress Wu. If you worked backward from that, the question of when exactly the crown prince and his father's consort had begun their arrangement produced an answer that fell somewhere between scandalous and treasonous.
Li Shimin had done the exact same calculation. His jaw was working with an audible tension.
"Draft an imperial decree!"
He stopped.
He had absolutely no idea what to put in it.
The current state of the timeline presented a significant problem. Prince Zhi was a toddler still mastering the basics of locomotion. The future Empress Wu was a six-year-old child. Crown Prince Chengqian had just turned eleven.
Li Shimin had placed Chengqian under rigorous instruction. The boy was currently working through the classics, practicing archery, and learning swordplay. His foundation in both martial and literary arts was still being laid, but he was already impressive enough that the young Wu girl had apparently gasped in admiration during a recent court banquet, according to what Empress Zhangsun had mentioned with visible pride.
As for little Prince Zhi, the boy could not reliably manage his own nose yet.
A profound exhaustion settled over Li Shimin. He felt genuinely tired.
Salvation arrived from an unexpected angle.
Zhangsun Wuji threw himself to the floor. The Chancellor wrapped both arms around Li Shimin's leg and began crying with extraordinary conviction.
"Your Majesty!" His voice echoed through the hall. "My loyalty to the Great Tang has never wavered! Even if it appears that I engineered military failures in the west to obstruct a campaign, every action I took was for the long-term stability of the dynasty!"
Li Shimin looked down at him. To his annoyance, he could actually follow the logic. Prince Li Zhi was Zhangsun Wuji's nephew. If his nephew eventually became involved in a political scandal significant enough to elevate a former imperial consort to the position of Empress, an uncle in Zhangsun Wuji's position might very well feel compelled to intervene.
The methods were deeply questionable. The motivation was at least understandable.
Li Shimin bent down and took Zhangsun Wuji by the shoulders.
"I know where your heart lies, Wuji. I understand your..."
The light screen chose that exact moment to continue.
[In 659 CE, Zhangsun Wuji was accused of treason, exiled to Qian Prefecture, and ultimately compelled to take his own life. ]
The timing could not have been worse.
The summer air in Chang'an was warm and heavy. Zhangsun Wuji felt cold from head to toe.
Only days earlier, he had visited the inner palace on some routine matter. He had spoken with his sister. He had chatted with young Chengqian. He had even met the six-year-old girl whom the light screen claimed would one day rule the empire.
Before leaving, he had picked up his toddler nephew Li Zhi, wiped the child's face clean with the sleeve of his own court robe, and bid him farewell.
Apparently, history intended to repay that devotion with forced suicide in exile.
The Chancellor's composure disintegrated instantly. His crying reached a level of volume and sincerity that would have earned respect from the very toddler he had cleaned up.
"Your Majesty!" He clung even tighter. "When have I ever harbored a single disloyal thought?"
No one in the hall could answer that question. The entire scenario sounded ridiculous. The Zhangsun clan already occupied the highest levels of wealth, influence, and prestige available in the empire. Rebellion was usually driven by ambition or desperation. Nobody could identify either motive.
Several officials exchanged glances. Then, almost simultaneously, their eyes drifted toward Hou Junji.
Hou Junji was glowing. His eyes sparkled. His expression carried the unmistakable satisfaction of a man watching someone else inherit the future disaster he had been expecting for himself.
The ministers nodded silently.
Yes. That one. That one looked much more likely.
Meanwhile, Zhangsun Wuji refused to release the emperor's leg. His grip tightened further.
Watching his Chancellor reduced to this state actually cooled Li Shimin's anger considerably. The emperor looked down at his sleeve, which had acquired a substantial contribution from Zhangsun Wuji's tears, and attempted to discreetly reclaim his leg. The attempt failed completely. Zhangsun Wuji's hold was immovable.
"You are correct, Wuji." Li Shimin sighed. "There must be political circumstances we have yet to see."
His tone was warm. He genuinely meant part of it. The rest remained under review.
Privately, Li Shimin had already concluded that restoring Zhangsun Wuji to full authority required considerably more information. At the very least, he wanted to understand what kind of uncle-nephew conflict could possibly produce such a spectacular outcome.
Fortunately, the Tang court was not short on talented officials.
As for Wang Wendu, the hall had collectively decided he was no longer important enough to discuss.
After several rounds of reassurance, Zhangsun Wuji finally released his grip.
He wiped his face one last time on Li Shimin's sleeve, stood up, and returned to his position with as much dignity as circumstances allowed.
Hou Junji immediately moved to stand beside him.
"The accusations against the Duke of Qi are obviously fabricated," Hou Junji said solemnly.
His tone projected sincerity. His eyes projected something else entirely.
Zhangsun Wuji froze. The moment he heard the word accusations, he turned slowly toward the general.
The anticipation in Hou Junji's eyes was visible from several paces away. It was losing a fierce battle against the urge to laugh.
Zhangsun Wuji made no attempt to hide his disgust. Had the emperor not explicitly forbidden discussions about future events, he would have resolved the conversation physically.
Instead, he took one large, deliberate step sideways. Then another. Creating as much distance as possible between himself and the still-grinning Hou Junji.
---
Inside the Chengdu government office, the atmosphere was considerably more relaxed.
At some point during the broadcast, Liu Bei had quietly slipped out of the main hall, made his way to the provincial kitchens, and returned carrying a large ceramic jar filled with freshly roasted, shelled peanuts.
The leading figures of Shu Han promptly abandoned any pretense of formality. Chairs were dragged into a rough circle. The peanut jar was placed in the middle. A pot of tea brewed beside it. It was the kind of setup usually reserved for late-night storytelling sessions, not imperial broadcasts.
Zhang Fei grabbed a handful of peanuts, tossed two into his mouth, and chewed with obvious satisfaction.
"Are we really getting this level of imperial scandal for free?" he said through the peanuts. "If I had known the Tang dynasty was this entertaining, I would have paid more attention earlier."
Fa Zheng smiled with the contentment of a man who appreciated quality entertainment. He reached for his tea and took a sip before answering.
"At a teahouse, gossip this good would cost you at least five bowls of the premium stuff. And the storyteller would still stretch it out over three sessions."
"Three sessions?" Zhang Fei snorted. "This is a one-night special. We are getting the whole thing in one sitting."
Even Liu Bei had abandoned much of his usual posture of measured dignity. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.
"So this Empress Wu eventually proclaims herself Emperor," he said slowly. "Did Li Zhi actually support that, or did she..."
He drew one finger slowly across his throat. The gesture required no elaboration.
Zhang Fei's eyes widened. "You think she killed him?"
"I am not saying anything," Liu Bei replied quickly. "I am just asking questions."
Fa Zheng chuckled. "My Lord, you are asking questions while sitting in a government office surrounded by your own ministers. That is basically saying something."
"Then I am not saying anything," Liu Bei said firmly.
Zhang Fei cackled. "Big brother, you just did the finger across the throat thing. You are definitely saying something."
"I am saying nothing."
"Your finger said plenty."
Liu Bei grabbed a peanut and threw it at Zhang Fei's head.
Zhuge Liang held a single peanut between his fingers and examined it with the concentration he normally reserved for military maps. He had been quiet throughout the exchange, watching the light screen and occasionally stroking his chin.
"Based on the narrator's overall assessment," he said finally, "Emperor Gaozong was far from mediocre."
He popped the peanut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
"The logic is straightforward. He spent enormous political capital to elevate Wu Zetian to Empress. That was already a massive scandal. But helping her become Emperor? That would mean undermining his own dynasty. His own bloodline. Li Zhi was not that foolish."
Zhang Fei waved his hand. "Maybe he was just... you know... under her influence. Women can be very persuasive."
Zhuge Liang raised an eyebrow. "Yide, do you have personal experience with that?"
Zhang Fei opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"I am just saying," he muttered, reaching for more peanuts. "I am not saying anything specific."
"Your face said plenty," Fa Zheng said, grinning.
Zhang Fei threw a peanut at him.
Liu Bei shook his head, still watching the screen. "Honestly, though, the Li Tang imperial family reminds me of Cao Cao's bloodline."
Zhuge Liang immediately shook his head. "Cao Cao is far too different. He was lenient with himself and hesitated at critical moments. Li Shimin tolerated direct criticism to a legendary degree and pushed into the Western Regions despite fierce opposition from his court. They are not comparable."
"I am not talking about Li Shimin," Zhang Fei said quickly. "I mean Li Zhi. He reminds me of Cao Rui."
Zhuge Liang paused.
Zhang Fei leaned forward, pleased that he had finally reached the point he wanted to make.
"The records say Cao Rui was deeply affected by his mother's death. Left lasting psychological scars. I am just saying Li Zhi appears to have the same problem."
Zhuge Liang tapped his fan against his forehead. He mentally retraced the timeline. Empress Zhangsun died early. After that, Li Shimin was busy with the empire, campaigns, and rebellious sons. Did Wu Zetian fill the void left by a mother who died too early and a father who was too distant and too terrifying?
He glanced at Zhang Zhongjing, who was sitting quietly nearby, holding a peanut up to the light and examining it with the same clinical seriousness he would give to a patient.
Zhuge Liang decided that asking Zhang Zhongjing to diagnose imperial psychological problems was not going to produce useful results. The physician's skills were better suited to treating actual illnesses, not the peculiar dysfunctions of imperial family trees.
Zhang Fei misinterpreted the sigh and the tap of the fan. Assuming he had said something foolish, he quickly tried to recover.
"Look, all I meant was that when it comes to raising balanced children, Li Shimin cannot compare to my big brother and the Military Advisor."
Liu Bei's brow furrowed. It was the expression of a man who had just received a compliment that somehow sounded suspiciously like a warning.
"Yide," Liu Bei said carefully, "was that a compliment or an insult?"
"It was definitely a compliment," Zhang Fei said.
"It sounded like you were saying something about my children."
"I was not saying anything about your children. I was saying Li Shimin's children are a mess. Your children are fine. Probably."
"Probably?"
"Definitely. Definitely fine."
Zhuge Liang sighed. "Yide, perhaps you should stop talking."
"Fine," Zhang Fei grumbled. "I will just eat peanuts and watch the scandal."
He grabbed another handful.
[Lightscreen]
[For Li Zhi, deposing Empress Wang and elevating Wu Zetian marked the dividing line of his reign. Everything before it belonged to one chapter of his life. Everything after belonged to another.
The logic behind the decision was relatively straightforward. For the first time since inheriting the throne, Li Zhi had broken free of the political influence Zhangsun Wuji had exercised over him. He was finally ruling on his own terms.
The changes came quickly. He adopted a new era name. He elevated Luoyang to the status of co-capital, creating a dual-capital administrative system. He introduced a series of major reforms and began exercising imperial authority with a confidence and independence that had not previously been possible.
He also had not forgotten the humiliation of the sabotaged Western Turk campaign. That debt still needed to be paid.
Now, let us talk about Su Dingfang, because this is where things get interesting.
During that disastrous expedition that Cheng Yaojin and Wang Wendu had methodically undermined, Su Dingfang's five-hundred-rider rear assault had been the only moment in the entire campaign when someone on the Tang side appeared genuinely interested in winning. Li Zhi recognized talent when he saw it.
In 657 CE, he appointed Su Dingfang Supreme Commander of the Ili Circuit Expeditionary Force.
The final destruction of the Western Turkic Khaganate was now officially underway.
The Tang launched a coordinated two-pronged offensive. Su Dingfang commanded the main force from the Yanran Protectorate, advancing west through the Altai Mountains toward the heart of the Western Turkic realm. At the same time, two of Little Lu's distant cousins, Ashina Mishe and Ashina Buzhen, both of whom had aligned themselves with the Tang, led a secondary army out of Xi Prefecture.
Su Dingfang was fifty-seven years old.
By that point, he had made himself a promise. He would erase the stain of the previous campaign. He would carve his name into history so deeply that it could never be removed.
The first obstacle in his path was the Mukun tribe of the Western Turks.
The historical record summarizes the battle in two words: utterly destroyed.
The casualty report is scarcely longer. "Tens of thousands of tents surrendered." Translated into practical terms, that meant roughly forty to fifty thousand people submitted almost immediately.
Su Dingfang pacified the tribe, recruited a thousand of its finest cavalry into his own army, and continued west without slowing his advance.
Now, here is where the real story begins. This is where Su Dingfang showed everyone why he had been waiting all those years.
Eventually, the Tang army encountered the main Western Turkic host near the modern Irtysh River.
Little Lu did not underestimate the threat. He mobilized one hundred thousand cavalry.
Su Dingfang looked at that number and responded with a decision that bordered on provocation.
His army numbered only a little over ten thousand men, and a significant portion of that force consisted of Uyghur auxiliaries. Facing odds of nearly ten to one, he deliberately divided his army. The infantry formed one battle line. The cavalry formed another. The two forces stood separated rather than supporting each other directly.
To Little Lu, Supreme Khan of the Western Turks, the deployment looked like open contempt.
And that, my friends, was exactly the point.
The insult struck precisely as intended. Enraged, Shaboluo Khan personally took command of the attack. One hundred thousand cavalry thundered toward the Tang infantry formations, fully intending to crush them beneath sheer momentum and teach the arrogant Tang commander a lesson in steppe arithmetic.
Now, let us analyze this. Little Lu's strategy was entirely conventional. Nomadic armies had relied on it for generations. Isolate the smaller infantry force. Destroy it through speed and shock. Then turn on the cavalry and overwhelm the survivors through superior numbers.
Clean. Simple. Proven.
Little Lu watched the battlefield unfold and felt completely certain that the battle was already won.
But here is the thing about Su Dingfang. He had been waiting for this moment for thirty years. Thirty years of watching from the sidelines. Thirty years of sweeping streets in Chang'an. Thirty years of wondering when his chance would come.
And when it finally arrived, he did not just want to win. He wanted to make a statement. He wanted everyone who had ever doubted him to remember this moment.
He wanted to show the world that when you give Su Dingfang an army, he does not just defeat you. He makes you regret ever standing in his path. ]