Chapter 50: The Hundred Family Surnames (Wishing all readers a Happy New Year!)

The concept of the “marriage-restricted families” only emerged during Li Zhi’s reign. Li Yuechen knew somewhat about this—during this era, the political system was still dominated by the aristocracy, with many families boasting deep roots and longstanding heritage.

For example, those known as the Five Surnames and Seven Prominent Families. Back then, a man named Li Yifu, who was highly favored by his father Li Zhi and his mother Wu Zetian, eventually became prime minister. He felt he had finally gained a powerful backing, but his family lacked profound heritage, so he sought to marry into these aristocratic clans to strengthen his own.

Yet, these grand families looked down on everyone; to them, even the imperial Li clan was nothing but upstarts from the countryside, unworthy of attention. How could a mere prime minister hope to marry into their ranks? They refused him without hesitation.

Li Yifu, furious, joined forces with his allies and lodged complaints with Li Zhi. Eventually, Li Zhi issued a decree, naming several of these prominent families—seven surnames, ten households—and forbade them from intermarrying!

Once this decree was announced, the named families seized the opportunity before it took effect to spark a frenzy of marriages. Many ceremonies were rushed, with every step streamlined, so as to intermarry as much as possible before the prohibition was enforced.

After the decree was in place, the targeted families were not diminished; instead, they used it as a badge of honor. Outside, as soon as one claimed to be from a marriage-restricted family, others immediately knew they belonged to an aristocratic clan recognized even by the emperor.

It was said that dynasties flow like water, but noble families stand firm as iron. To outsiders, these aristocratic clans were far more formidable than the imperial family. Many men, in hopes of marrying a daughter from one of these clans, would willingly spend their entire fortune—such was the depth of their legacy.

They say the emperor’s daughters never worry about marriage, but in this era, even they do. For talented young men, their first choice was not to marry a princess, but to wed a noblewoman from an aristocratic family. And talented women preferred marrying noble sons over imperial princes. Such was the prevailing social atmosphere.

Li Yuechen nodded and grinned, “No matter, I’ll find a chance for revenge later!”

Liu Huang was startled, “How will you do it?”

“Do I need to teach you?” Li Yuechen retorted. “Wait for him to walk at night, throw a sack over his head, and give him a few solid blows!”

Liu Huang’s eyes lit up, “That’s a great idea!”

“Ahem, I didn’t say anything!” Li Yuechen reminded him.

“Of course, of course!” Liu Huang laughed. “I thought of it myself; I never met Your Highness today!”

Li Yuechen nodded approvingly, waved her hand, and instructed the Jinwu Guards driving the carriage to return to the palace.

Watching the departing carriage, Liu Huang bowed slightly, then turned to leave.

On her way back, Li Yuechen lowered her head in thought. From her perspective, she too disliked the feudal system and these aristocratic clans. But now, as a member of the imperial family, by principle, she helped her kin rather than uphold ideals, so her dislike for the aristocratic clans was even stronger.

Not for any other reason, but simply because these clans were thoroughly unlikable. Arrogant and domineering, they looked down on all other surnames, judging nobility by bloodline and birth.

Even after years of suppression by Li Zhi and Wu Zetian, their political influence at court was not as strong as before. Yet in society, their prestige remained undiminished compared to the founding days or Taizong’s reign.

At this moment, Li Yuechen pondered a question: if these aristocratic clans continued developing, would the country eventually evolve into a caste-like system?

It was not an unfounded worry; if these families united, they truly had the power to overthrow imperial authority.

But to erase their influence was not something that could be accomplished overnight. The main reason was that in their own territories, these families reigned as local emperors.

For example, in Taiyuan, one might not know who the emperor was, but everyone knew the Wang family! Such a system allowed these clans to entrench themselves, wealthy, powerful, and armed—their influence could not be easily removed.

Now, as an imperial princess, Li Yuechen naturally considered things from the perspective of the royal family. If she could deal with these clans, it would stabilize imperial power—surely Li Zhi and Wu Zetian would be pleased.

She knew she couldn’t accomplish this yet, but no matter; at least she could find ways to vex them a little.

That way, not only would she be happy, but Li Zhi and Wu Zetian would be too. And when the imperial couple was happy, they’d surely be even fonder of her!

With this thought, Li Yuechen resolved that she must do something to make the emperor smile.

...

Returning to Anfu Hall, Li Yuechen sat down, resting her chin on her hands, pondering what she could do now.

There were many possibilities—for example, she could develop commerce, gradually undermining these clans’ businesses and maliciously acquiring them.

But on reflection, such things couldn’t be accomplished immediately; it would take gradual development.

Ultimately, the key lay in reducing their social influence, making the common people realize that these so-called nobles were nothing without imperial support!

Li Yuechen propped her chin, gazing outside at Linbo Pavilion, thinking aloud, “Seven surnames, ten families… seven surnames… surnames… Hundred Family Surnames!”

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers.

Of course, the Hundred Family Surnames would work—put all their surnames after Li, and the emperor would be delighted!

With this idea, Li Yuechen took up a brush to write.

But as she was about to begin, she paused.

She only remembered the first four lines of the Hundred Family Surnames, nothing beyond that—how could she proceed?

After some thought, she wrote down “Li, Wu, Liu, Yang”—her father’s surname first, her mother second, maternal grandmother’s Yang, and for rhyme, her master’s Liu—surely that wasn’t too much?

Li, Wu, Liu, Yang, Zhou, Wu, Zheng, Wang—this rhymed well enough.

Feng, Chen, Chu, Wei, and then… Cui, Lu, Fan, Zhang?

At this point, Li Yuechen stopped. She couldn’t remember the rest!

Scratching her head, she pondered how to continue, when Shangguan Wan’er happened to pass by.

Li Yuechen blinked—yes, Shangguan Wan’er could help! After all, she was a future literary talent, known as the female prime minister—her abilities surely weren’t lacking!

With this, Li Yuechen beckoned, “Wan’er, bring me the ‘Genealogy Records’ and help me with something!”

“Yes!” came the reply.

Shangguan Wan’er lifted her dainty feet and ran to the bookshelf to search.

The “Genealogy Records” was compiled during Taizong’s reign, recording various surnames and families. With this book, one could check the surnames in use.

Soon, Shangguan Wan’er returned, carrying a large scroll.

Li Yuechen waved for her to sit down, and whispered, “Wan’er, I need your help with something.”

“Your Highness, please instruct me! If I can do it, I will!” Shangguan Wan’er replied.

Li Yuechen nodded. “Just take these two lines as a model, and compile the surnames recorded in the Genealogy Records in this format, making sure they rhyme.”

“This…” Shangguan Wan’er hesitated. “I’m not sure if I can accomplish it…”

“No matter, just do your best.” Li Yuechen glanced around. “If you can’t, I won’t punish you. But if you succeed, I’ll give you plenty of canned food this year—eat as much as you like!”

Shangguan Wan’er’s eyes brightened, and she nodded, “Alright, I’ll do my utmost!”

“Excellent!” Li Yuechen reached out and ruffled her hair.

“What does ‘excellent’ mean?”

“It means you’re amazing!”

...

Seven days passed in a blink, and Li Yuechen, as usual, went to the court for news.

There was little noteworthy recently, except that Lu Xu, a censor from the Ministry of Personnel, reported his son Lu Yuan was assaulted while walking at night, the culprit not found, and asked His Majesty to order a thorough investigation.

On the dragon throne, Li Zhi—had his daughter not been behind the screen—might have hurled his health ball in frustration.

What nonsense? Your son gets beaten up and you bring it to me? Should I mediate when you quarrel with your wife?

Li Zhi scolded Lu Xu sharply and then declared the session over, storming off behind the screen and picking up Li Yuechen.

Lu Xu felt aggrieved; he’d already informed the Court of Judicial Review. They had sent investigators, and the whole case was clearly premeditated. The assailant threw a sack over the head, delivered several blows, and fled—no robbery, no molestation, making it extremely hard to trace.

Hence, Lu Xu brought the matter to court. In earlier times, perhaps Li Zhi would have cared. But now, since Lu Xu’s father Lu Chengqing had died, and the officialdom had its tradition of cooling interest, Lu Xu’s influence was much diminished.

The likelihood was that the case would fade away.

Yet Li Yuechen noted that throughout the court session, her master Liu Rengui sat silently with eyes closed, as if asleep, never uttering a word.

...

After court, Li Zhi carried Li Yuechen about, their playful banter sweeping away the gloom from the throne room.

Wu Zetian knew Li Zhi had long disliked those clans, so she didn’t put on a stern face today; instead, she joined Li Zhi and Li Yuechen in their games.

After lunch, they called in their youngest son, Li Lun, and the four played mahjong together.

They played into the evening, when Li Yuechen finally returned to Anfu Hall.

Barefoot on the wooden floor of the hall, the heat dissipated at last.

Just as she was about to lie down for a rest, Shangguan Wan’er came running, “Your Highness, I’ve finished!”

“Oh?” Li Yuechen turned, “Bring it here!”

Shangguan Wan’er handed her a folded scroll, and Li Yuechen opened it.

Li, Wu, Liu, Yang, Zhou, Wu, Zheng, Wang. Feng, Chen, Chu, Wei, Cui, Lu, Fan, Zhang. Zhu, Cao, Lü, Hua, Fang, Xie, Kong, Jiang…

The whole piece was neatly compiled, rhymed perfectly, and flowed smoothly when recited!

Li Yuechen spread her arms and hugged her, patting her back, “Ha ha, Wan’er, you’re amazing!”

Shangguan Wan’er froze at first, cheeks flushed, hands raised and lowered, unsure whether to hug Li Yuechen back.

But Li Yuechen was unconcerned; releasing her, she grinned, “Tomorrow, prepare the writing materials for me—I’ll transcribe this and show it to Father and Mother!”

“Yes!”

In high spirits, Li Yuechen waved her hand, “Someone, prepare the barbecue grill—we’ll roast meat tonight!”

Then she took Shangguan Wan’er’s hand, “Come, let’s roast together!”

...

This barbecue didn’t attract much attention; Li Zhi heard about it and merely smiled, not coming to join.

The next morning, Li Yuechen rose as usual to practice, and after lunch, carefully transcribed Shangguan Wan’er’s Hundred Family Surnames, then rode her little tricycle straight to Renshou Hall.

At the entrance, she greeted Zhang Chengxin, and dashed inside.

Reaching the desk, she vaulted over it, landing beside Li Zhi.

“Well, you seem in good spirits today, Chen’er,” Li Zhi smiled.

Li Yuechen perched on the arm of his rocking chair, “Father, Wan’er and I composed a rhyme together.”

“Wan’er?” Li Zhi paused. “Oh, your reading companion… What sort of rhyme did you make?”

Li Yuechen lay back, resting her head on his chest. “I saw the ‘Genealogy Records’ compiled by the late emperor, and turned the surnames into a rhyme—the Hundred Family Surnames!”

With that, she flipped off the chair and handed the scroll to Wu Zetian, “Father’s eyesight isn’t good; Mother, please read it.”

Wu Zetian cared little for rhymes, but since it was handed to her, she opened it to look.

Her casual expression turned serious after a few lines.

Li Zhi, in his rocking chair, glanced over, “Meiniang, read it aloud for me.”

Wu Zetian nodded and began to recite slowly.

Li Zhi had expected only amusement, but as she recited, his expression grew solemn.

Li Yuechen, as if oblivious, waited until Wu Zetian finished, then strutted to Li Zhi, “Father, well? Am I not clever?”

Wu Zetian, behind the desk, asked, “Did you write this yourself?”

“The beginning is mine, the rest is Wan’er’s—we did it together!” Li Yuechen replied.

Her main reason for answering thus was to avoid her parents thinking she was truly talented, and pressing her to study the Four Books and Five Classics. She credited half to Wan’er, implying her talents were average—not suited for classical study.

Li Zhi narrowed his eyes, rolling the health ball twice, then took the scroll from Wu Zetian, reading it himself.

Wu Zetian asked, “Why did you place your grandmother’s surname after Liu?”

“For rhyme’s sake! That’s why Master’s Liu comes first,” Li Yuechen answered.

“Exactly!”

Li Zhi, reading in his rocking chair, suddenly laughed, “Chen’er just arranged their surnames for the rhyme—only for the rhyme!”

Seeing he understood, Li Yuechen also smiled.

Yes, this princess did it for rhyme—no hidden motives whatsoever!