Chapter Eighteen: Reflections on My Daughter

When Li Yuechen arrived at the Hall of Yan Ying, she saw her mother, Empress Wu Zetian, sitting on the couch with her father, chatting and sipping tea. In this chilly weather, a small stove simmered tea on the table, giving off just enough warmth to those nearby.

The tea in the kettle bubbled softly, its strange fragrance—heightened by various spices—wafting through the entire palace. She had to admit, the aroma was indeed invigorating, clearing the mind.

Seeing Li Yuechen enter, her father Li Zhi beamed and waved her over. “Come here, Chen’er! Sit with me and Meiniang and keep us company.”

Li Yuechen responded cheerfully, skipping the formalities and sitting cross-legged beside them on the couch.

Wu Zetian turned to her with curiosity. “You usually come morning and evening. Why have you come just after midday today?”

“Hehe, I’ve invented something new and brought it to present to Father and Mother!” Li Yuechen put on her most proud and expectant face.

Seeing her “praise me!” expression, Li Zhi played along, asking, “Oh? What have you made this time?”

Li Yuechen lifted her head and called toward the doorway, “Eunuch Fu, bring it in!”

“At once!” Eunuch Fu answered, promptly carrying in her newly crafted curved-beam plow. “Your Majesty, Your Grace, please take a look.”

Wu Zetian rose to inspect the object, tilting her head. “Is this...a plow?”

“That’s right!” Li Yuechen nodded proudly. “Impressive, aren’t I?”

Li Zhi also stood, rolling two health balls in his left hand, and examined the plow. “Chen’er, why did you shape the plow beam this way?”

“Yesterday at the spring plowing ceremony, I saw both of you working the old plow and soon drenched in sweat, exhausted. I thought, if I could make it easier to handle, then next year during the ceremony, you wouldn’t have to work so hard.”

Her explanation piqued Li Zhi’s curiosity. “A small change like this can have such an effect?”

Wu Zetian was equally skeptical. After all, it was just a straight beam made curved—how could it make such a difference?

“I believe it can!” Li Yuechen explained, “When I practice boxing with Master, I always find it easier to punch upward than straight forward!”

As she spoke, Li Yuechen demonstrated with an uppercut, then a straight punch.

Seeing her demonstration, Li Zhi smiled and nodded. “Chen’er, you may have a point.”

Still, his expression showed he wasn’t taking it too seriously. But since his beloved daughter had worked so hard, he didn’t want to dismiss it outright. With a wave, he said, “Take this to Yan Liben and have him test it.”

Zhang Chengxin, standing by, bowed in response. “As you command.”

After all, an emperor could be indulgent if it made his daughter happy, even if it meant making his ministers jump through a few hoops.

Witnessing this, Li Yuechen made a silent vow: she would work even harder to turn Li Zhi into a doting father!

Speaking of Yan Liben, she had heard of him since coming to this era. Apparently, the portraits of the twenty-four heroes in Lingyan Pavilion were all his work—a true master artist. Now he was Right Chancellor and Director of Works, essentially Minister of Public Works.

Years ago, Li Zhi and Wu Zetian had whimsically renamed all official positions—what was once the Secretariat and Chancellery were now called the Eastern and Western Terrace, among other things. Though there were undoubtedly deeper reasons, in Li Yuechen’s view, the imperial couple simply had a late-blooming adolescent streak, making the bureaucracy a confusing maze.

With that matter settled, Li Zhi sat down again as the tea finished brewing. He sipped his tea and played with his daughter. He was so indulgent now that even when she tugged at his beard for fun, he didn't get angry.

“Father, shall we play a game?” she suggested.

“Of course! What game does Chen’er want to play?”

“Follow me, do this...” she said, showing him the moves.

Wu Zetian, after sipping her tea, went over to the desk to review memorials, occasionally pausing to spin the health balls in her palm. As she pondered the matters reported in the documents, the sound of clapping and the recitation of a rhyme came from nearby.

“You clap one, I clap one, a child comes to play cockfighting; you clap two, I clap two, two children go fishing for bait; you clap three...”

She looked up to see the emperor, the ruler of the land, sitting face to face with his daughter, clapping in rhythm and reciting the nursery rhyme.

She said nothing, simply watching the two with a flat expression.

When the rhyme ended, Li Zhi laughed heartily and lifted his daughter high into the air, pretending not to see Wu Zetian’s look.

Wu Zetian took a deep breath. “If Your Majesty is truly so idle, would you not rather discuss state affairs with me?”

Without turning around, Li Zhi lazily poured another cup of tea for himself and his daughter. “What is it?”

“The Protectorate of Andong reports that the Goguryeo people are resisting our rule and many are rebelling…”

“Well, that was to be expected.” Li Zhi raised his teacup and clinked it lightly with his daughter’s as if toasting with wine. “What does Chen’er think we should do?”

Li Yuechen, still caught up in the thrill of playing, momentarily forgot she was just a child. Without thinking, she set down her cup and answered, “We should establish the Tang dynasty’s rule and teach them to speak our court language…”

She realized her slip and looked up to see both parents watching her.

Li Yuechen froze, inwardly panicking. Damn, this is bad! Why would you ask a child about matters of state? Will I be suspected and eliminated as a future threat?

Yet Wu Zetian seemed intrigued rather than suspicious. “And then?”

Li Zhi, too, looked at her with interest, waiting for her to continue.

But Li Yuechen dared not say more. After a few seconds of silence, she blinked her bright eyes and said, “And then…that’s it.”

Both parents coughed awkwardly, as if doused with cold water.

Li Yuechen eyed them nervously, wondering what to do next.

Li Zhi chuckled, reaching out to pat her head. “Chen’er is truly clever—an excellent suggestion!”

“Indeed,” Wu Zetian agreed, though she sighed. “But such a plan cannot yield immediate results. Does Your Majesty have a more urgent strategy?”

The two of them began discussing state affairs, while Li Yuechen’s mind raced. Had her words aroused their suspicion? On reflection, perhaps not. Children in this era matured quickly—Yang Guang, the future Emperor Yang of Sui, commanded troops at thirteen; Gan Luo was made a high official at twelve; and then there were prodigies like Cao Chong and Luo Binwang, whose intellect rivaled adults’ at age six or seven.

Still, Li Yuechen resolved not to stand out too much. Creating health balls and the curved plow could be attributed to filial piety, but meddling in affairs of state could be dangerous if she was ever seen as a threat.

Yet neither Li Zhi nor Wu Zetian seemed troubled by her comment. Instead, they earnestly discussed possible responses to the Andong situation.

Based on her years of observing them, Li Yuechen judged that they probably weren’t overthinking it. She had always displayed intelligence, and she did read a lot of history—coming up with an immature idea wasn’t too surprising.

Seeing them engrossed in their discussion, Li Yuechen excused herself. “I won’t disturb you further. I’ll take my leave.”

“Go on,” Wu Zetian said with a nod.

Li Zhi patted her head. “Next time, Father will play with you again!”

Li Yuechen agreed, then paused at the door, realizing she hadn’t properly saluted. Instead of a formal bow, she made a big heart shape with her hands over her head. “Your daughter takes her leave!”

Wu Zetian’s face darkened instantly, but Li Zhi laughed and mimicked the gesture, making a heart above his head.

Once outside the Hall of Yan Ying, Li Yuechen breathed a sigh of relief.

Hopefully, her mother’s image hadn’t been shattered—otherwise, the coming days would be difficult.

While logic suggested her early-deceased sister probably hadn’t been killed by Wu Zetian, that didn’t mean her mother wasn’t ruthless. Just look at her uncles.

After her maternal grandfather died, Lady Rongguo struggled to raise three daughters alone. Wu Zetian’s two older half-brothers and two cousins not only withheld any inheritance but would bully the widowed mother and her children, possibly even laying hands on Wu Zetian.

When Wu Zetian became empress, she should have promoted her family, as was customary. Instead, she submitted a memorial insisting that as empress, she should follow the example of virtuous empresses of the past and keep her family in check to prevent another powerful relative like Zhangsun Wuji. By way of setting an example, she had her brothers sent to remote, impoverished counties to oversee poverty alleviation.

Li Zhi, having just dealt with Zhangsun Wuji, was deeply moved by his wife’s high-mindedness and agreed without hesitation.

All four brothers were transferred to famously destitute regions, ordered to assume their posts without delay.

Within a year, her two biological brothers, Wu Yuanqing and Wu Yuanshuang, had both died in quick succession. Li Yuechen would never believe there was nothing fishy about that!

No wonder later generations said the Tang dynasty was rife with fratricidal strife—the evidence certainly supported it.

As she walked back, Li Yuechen took a few deep breaths, reminding herself to remain calm and never draw too much attention in the future.

...

Meanwhile, after Li Yuechen left, Li Zhi and Wu Zetian exchanged a glance and both smiled.

“She’s truly my daughter—able to look far ahead even at this young age,” Li Zhi praised.

Wu Zetian nodded. “She’s always been that way. At such an age, to resist temptation and devote her rewards to filial piety shows upright character.”

Li Zhi poured her a cup of tea. “According to Fu Lai’s usual reports, though she is attached to her family, she is in truth a calm and steady person.”

Wu Zetian smiled again. “Just like Hong’er.”

“At this age, Hong’er was not her equal,” Li Zhi shook his head. “Kind and filial, calm in temperament, and with foresight...the makings of a ruler.”

Wu Zetian was momentarily surprised, then smiled. “Isn’t that too high a compliment?”

Li Zhi shook his head. “In my reign, there have been many wars; the empire’s expansion is reaching its limits. If a ruler who can maintain what we’ve achieved succeeds me, our realm will be secure!”

“Let’s not speak of the future,” Wu Zetian said, taking his hand. “Right now, Your Majesty is still in good health!”

Li Zhi laughed, shaking his head. “I am growing old. Illness plagues me. I can no longer personally attend to state affairs—what health is there to speak of?”

“Your Majesty…”

Li Zhi pulled her into his arms, a broad smile on his face, interrupting her. “It doesn’t matter. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are part of life. With Meiniang by my side, I have nothing more to wish for!”

Wu Zetian’s eyes grew moist, but she said nothing more, simply embracing him tightly.

...

Back at the Hall of Chengxiang, Li Yuechen decided not to waste any more brainpower on this. Whatever the future held, she would deal with it as it came.

The key was to never act recklessly again—she would strive to make both Li Zhi and Wu Zetian the most doting parents in history!

Ideally, she’d also turn her brothers into the ultimate little sister fans!

She wanted nothing to do with state affairs—let them stay far away!

With her plans set, Li Yuechen settled down to read and practice her calligraphy.

As for what solution her parents reached regarding the Goguryeo problem, she didn’t know.

All she learned was that in May, Li Zhi issued an edict, relocating thirty-eight thousand two hundred households of Goguryeo people, along with their livestock, to the regions west of the Yangtze and Huai Rivers, as well as Bingzhou and Liangzhou. The impoverished could remain in Andong. The Andong Protectorate was also instructed to improve irrigation and farmland during slack farming seasons, thus securing Tang rule. As long as no further trouble arose, this area would be fully integrated into the Tang realm.

Moreover, Li Zhi ordered that the newcomers be taught the Tang court language and treated as Tang citizens.

This was no secret, and Li Yuechen soon learned of it.

But she didn’t care about such national matters. She was far more upset about something else.

Namely, that nine out of ten ministers at court were now spinning health balls in their hands!

Whenever she passed through the outer court, she’d see everyone—from top officials to lowly clerks—playing with shiny health balls.

That was bad enough, but now people in Chang’an were picking it up as well.

Whether she visited Master Liu Rengui or Lady Rongguo, she’d see people strolling the streets, spinning two health balls in their hands.

Every time she witnessed this, Li Yuechen would frown miserably.

Damn it—where are my royalties? How come I haven’t received a single coin?

Just as she was starting to like life in this era, Li Yuechen once again felt that coming to ancient times was pure bad luck!