Chapter Twenty-Four: An Unintentional Willow Takes Root

The Grand Princess of the Tang Dynasty Radiant Sun 4824 words 2026-04-11 14:55:15

Li Yuechen had no idea how Li Zhi and his wife discussed matters with the ministers, but two days later, an imperial edict was issued: Xue Rengui was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force to the Luosuo Road, with Ashina Daozhen, Deputy General of the Right Guard, and Guo Daifeng, General of the Left Guard, as his lieutenants. An army of one hundred thousand was to march straight towards Tibet!

To give the campaign a more legitimate pretext, they raised the banner of helping Tuyuhun restore its kingdom, promising that once Tibet was subdued again, King Murong Nuohobo of Tuyuhun would be sent back.

Li Yuechen had read a great deal of the court histories and was quite familiar with this Murong's story. In the fifth year of Xianqing, five years before Li Yuechen was born, Tibet launched a massive invasion of Tuyuhun. King Murong Nuohobo, together with his wife, Princess Honghua, and several thousand households, fled to Liangzhou and appealed to the Tang dynasty for help.

At that time, Li Zhi ordered Zheng Rentai and Su Dingfang to assemble forces in Liangzhou, both to protect the remnants of Tuyuhun and to prepare for war. However, Li Zhi did not attack Tibet directly; instead, he sent envoys to strongly condemn Lu Dongzan for his act of invading another country’s territory.

Li Zhi's thinking was that if Lu Dongzan dared to kill the envoys or invade the Tang, he would have a justified reason to attack. Yet, the cunning Lu Dongzan received the envoy courteously, and even sent his own envoy to the Tang court, censuring Tuyuhun for dragging the Tang into what was essentially a fight between two countries.

Thus, the two sides never fought, and the lands of Tuyuhun were annexed by Tibet.

In fact, last year, many ministers had already petitioned for a campaign against Tibet to help Tuyuhun reclaim its homeland. However, Yan Liben advised against it, citing severe drought and poor harvests, arguing that the state could not bear the burden of military action. Consequently, the order from Li Zhi and Wu Zetian to relocate the people of Tuyuhun to the Qilian Mountains was not carried out.

Li Yuechen did not know whether, in this era, such an order would be good or bad if implemented, but she knew that in the future, the Qilian Mountains would become a prosperous region. If it could be developed well in this age, it would have a tremendous positive impact on the Tang economy.

Still, she was in no position to offer such advice to Li Zhi and Wu Zetian. First, she had no idea if the Qilian Mountains of this period were the same as in the future; second, as she often reminded herself, it was best for her—a mere child—not to get involved in such affairs.

Although, since Wu Zetian had not yet taken the throne, the imperial family was not as strict about women or others discussing state matters, it was still wise not to attract suspicion. After all, the cautionary tales from the Han Dynasty about Empress Lü were still fresh in everyone’s memory…

Li Zhi's orders were swiftly executed. Yet, at this point, it was difficult to say whether the edict came from Li Zhi or Wu Zetian. The imperial couple stayed secluded in the Yan Ying Hall all day long, so who could know the truth?

However, Li Yuechen tended to believe it was her own mother, Wu Zetian, who made the decision, for Li Zhi's health was truly poor now—he could barely see the words on the page and spent most days playing with his ball in the palace.

It was worth noting that the folding chair Li Yuechen had designed was very popular with her parents; the Yan Ying Hall now had these chairs and higher desks, though it was unclear if they would actually improve the efficiency of reviewing memorials.

This, in fact, was one reason Li Yuechen liked the Tang dynasty: its open and inclusive policies. They adopted whatever was useful. Now, in the streets of Chang’an, a Han person could walk around in “barbarian” attire without being scolded—in fact, it was considered fashionable. Ethnicity was not a barrier to official appointment; many court ministers were not Han.

There was an amusing incident related to this. The eldest son of the Turkic chieftain was currently a hostage in the Tang. Early this year, Li Zhi decreed that he serve as an attendant to Li Hong, the crown prince. Most ministers had no objection, except for Xu Qidan, an official of the Western Secretariat, who stood up and protested, “Your Majesty, this is too much! The Crown Prince should be attended by men of virtue and learning, not by barbarians from the frontier!” Li Zhi was not inclined to argue over such a trivial matter, lest he be berated by the censors, so he simply waved the protest away.

Xu Qidan then said, “Chancellor Zhangsun Wuji is your maternal relative, Your Majesty. Should the family’s ancestral tomb be destroyed because of the crimes of his descendants?” This referred to the Tang’s frequent practice of ordering the destruction of a traitor’s ancestral tombs. Zhangsun Wuji had been convicted of treason, and regardless of the truth, that was the official charge. In the Tang, it was common for the state to order the destruction of a criminal’s family tombs as punishment. Thus, Zhangsun Wuji’s family tomb had been destroyed when he was accused of treason.

Xu Qidan’s suggestion was ultimately adopted by Li Zhi, who ordered the tomb restored. This was something Li Yuechen greatly appreciated. Coming from a civilized society, she found the idea of desecrating ancestral tombs utterly unacceptable. She had originally intended, when she grew older, to persuade Li Zhi to abolish the practice, but now that someone else had already spoken up, she could only be glad.

With nothing much to do, Li Yuechen spent her days, aside from her unfailing martial arts training, writing Journey to the West. She had already reached the chapter of the Spider Cave, and there was still some way to go before she finished.

Li Zhi and Wu Zetian had become her most devoted readers. Every time a new chapter was completed, they would immediately have Zhang Chengxin fetch it; they were thoroughly hooked.

This arrangement suited Li Yuechen quite well; as long as she kept the emperor and empress entertained, her own life would remain comfortable. But her peace lasted only a few days before new troubles arose.

Because of the Tibetan campaign, Xue Rengui was reassigned from the Protectorate of Andong. Many in the former Goguryeo territories, already unhappy with Tang rule, seized the opportunity to revolt. Jian Moucen supported An Shun, a grandson of the last Goguryeo king, as the new monarch, raising the banner of rebellion.

Li Yuechen learned this from Eunuch Fu. In this era, unless it was a state secret, palace servants were often the best informed.

At first, Li Yuechen was worried; now the Tang army faced the prospect of fighting on two fronts. But then she shook her head—many people from Goguryeo had already been relocated to the interior, and those who remained could hardly stir up much trouble. At worst, it would be a minor nuisance.

With that thought, she returned to writing her Journey to the West.

Seeing her resume her work, Shangguan Wan’er, who was resting her chin on the table beside her, could not help but ask, “Aren’t you worried, Your Highness?”

“What is there to worry about? When the Tang was founded, enemies surrounded us on all sides, but now none do not submit. If anyone should worry, it’s them!” Li Yuechen replied serenely, tossing the hair that hung in front of her.

Hearing this, Eunuch Fu’s eyes flashed with admiration. Shangguan Wan’er blinked her large eyes, lost in thought.

Two days passed in a flash, and Li Yuechen finally finished the Spider Cave chapter. That morning, after practicing yoga with Shangguan Wan’er and her two elder sisters, she ate a little, had Lady Zheng copy out the new chapter, then went to train in the courtyard.

After lunch, she took the newly transcribed chapter to find Li Zhi and Wu Zetian, only to discover they were not in Yan Ying Hall. She grabbed a passing maid. “Where are my parents?”

“Your Highness, His Majesty and Her Majesty are both in the Xuanzheng Hall,” the maid replied with a bow.

“Court is still in session?”

“Indeed.”

It was already past noon—unusually late for court to still be in session. Could something important have happened?

Curious, Li Yuechen sneaked into the Xuanzheng Hall from the back door, slipped into the side corridor, and prepared to eavesdrop. The ministers could not see her, but Li Zhi on the dragon throne and Wu Zetian behind the beaded curtain could both spot her.

But the imperial couple never objected to Li Yuechen sneaking into the hall; if she wanted to listen, so be it. In fact, in her first year, Li Zhi had even carried her into court.

Li Zhi glanced over and saw Li Yuechen sticking out her tongue at him, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. The health ball in his hand seemed to spin a little faster.

Wu Zetian raised a hand and gestured for silence, and Li Yuechen nodded in understanding.

“Ahem…” Li Zhi cleared his throat. “We have deliberated for two days. Now, since none of you have any objections, it is settled! Gao Kan is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Prefecture Expedition, Li Jingxing, Commander-in-Chief of the Yanshan Route, to suppress An Shun! This time, we must…”

“Dong, dong, dong…” Before he could finish, a rhythmic drumming sounded from the Danfeng Gate above.

Both Li Zhi and the ministers instinctively paused, looking outside. Hiding behind the screen, Li Yuechen listened carefully and recognized the military report drum.

This sound signified the arrival of military dispatches. The doors had to be opened at once, allowing the messenger to ride directly to the threshold. If it was an urgent “eight hundred li express,” the messenger could ride straight to the hall doors.

Hearing the drum, Li Zhi paused, waiting for the messenger to arrive.

“Report—!”

A martial courier, with two long feathers in his cap, rushed to the entrance, surrendered his weapons to the palace guards, showed his credentials, and ran into the hall.

Standing below the dragon throne, he saluted and, still panting, announced, “Your Majesty, a personal letter from Deputy General Zhang Peng, left in charge at the Andong Protectorate!”

“Present it!” Li Zhi commanded.

Zhang Chengxin quickly took the letter and brought it to Li Zhi. With his failing eyesight, Li Zhi had to hold it close to make out the words, his expression shifting as he read.

The assembled court watched curiously, Li Hong at the forefront. Behind the screen, Li Yuechen observed Li Zhi’s face, trying to glean something from his expression.

After about two minutes, Li Zhi suddenly leaned back and burst into laughter. “Ha ha ha ha…”

His sudden mirth startled the ministers; Li Hong looked up sharply, unsure what had happened.

Li Zhi laughed so heartily he lost his grip on his health ball, which thudded to the floor. Zhang Chengxin hurried to retrieve it and placed it back in his hand. Li Zhi then handed him the letter, waving for him to read aloud.

Zhang Chengxin stood to the side and read in a loud voice:

“To report to Your Majesty, An Shun and Jian Moucen rebelled with their followers a few days ago! Yet, since Lord Xue assumed office, he has secured our Tang lands, cared for orphans, supported the elderly, suppressed bandits and thieves, promoted and employed talented people from Goguryeo, and rewarded the virtuous. Thus, An Shun’s rebellion found almost no response! He is now besieged by our forces in Anshi City and will soon be defeated—further victories to come!”

After the reading, Zhang Chengxin respectfully returned the letter.

Li Zhi gestured for him to pass it to the empress. The ministers below exchanged astonished glances, especially Gao Kan and Li Jingxing, who had just been appointed.

“Ha ha ha…” Li Zhi laughed again.

The ministers, their spirits lifted, joined in, and the Xuanzheng Hall rang with laughter, nearly raising the roof.

Li Zhi could not stop laughing, and Wu Zetian behind the beaded curtain covered her mouth, smiling. Behind the screen, Li Yuechen wanted to laugh but could not. Who would have thought her casual suggestion would yield such quick results? The people of this era were far too easily swayed.

But now, Li Zhi and Wu Zetian’s attention would surely return to her—whether this was good or bad, she could not say. For a moment, Li Yuechen felt uneasy.

After a long while, Li Zhi’s laughter subsided, his face flushed. The ministers forced themselves to stop, though a few still shook with silent mirth.

Li Zhi took a deep breath and, still smiling, asked, “Esteemed ministers, how should we handle this situation?”

Yan Liben stepped forward, raising his tablet. “Your Majesty, though this plot failed, we must not be careless. Someone should be appointed as Protector-General of Andong.”

Li Zhi nodded. “That makes sense. Any recommendations?”

“I still recommend Left Guard General Gao Kan,” Yan Liben replied.

“Any objections?” Li Zhi glanced around.

The hall was silent. Gao Kan had been slated to suppress the rebellion anyway; only his title had changed, not his task.

With the matter settled, Li Zhi gave a few instructions, then declared court dismissed.

Hand in hand with Wu Zetian, he came to the corridor, his smile growing as he saw Li Yuechen still standing behind the screen.

“Chen’er, you truly are my lucky star!” Li Zhi reached out and patted her head.

Li Yuechen forced a smile. “Did I really achieve merit?”

“You did!” Li Zhi replied solemnly. “Great merit!”

“As long as I can help Father and Mother, I am happy,” Li Yuechen answered awkwardly, but inside she was frantically warning herself: Damn it, from now on I’ll never speak carelessly again! Please, let today’s events never be traced back to me!