Chapter 19

Ignoring the pleas for mercy from Zhishi Sili, the two warriors dragged him away without hesitation. As for his attendants, upon being informed that Jieli had broken his word and that the Tang Dynasty was unafraid of war, they were driven out of Chang’an by a flurry of blows.

When the court was dismissed and the officials began to withdraw, Cai Cong yawned and followed the crowd toward the exit. Suddenly, Yan Dong called out loudly, “Middle Counselor Cai, please remain. His Majesty summons you to the Imperial Study.”

“Little Lord Cai, Eunuch Yan is calling for you!” an official beside Cai Cong gave him a nudge. Only then did Cai Cong come to his senses—so the summons was for him!

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Is His Majesty inviting me to dine with him? You know, children can’t go hungry,” Cai Cong replied in a loud, playful tone, waving his hand. The people around him chuckled knowingly—this boy was truly bold.

“Heh heh… Little Lord Cai, come with me. Perhaps His Majesty will reward you with imperial cuisine!” Yan Dong cackled. Indeed, it was only when hungry that Cai Cong behaved like a true child.

Cai Cong shot him a look of disdain. What was so special about imperial cuisine? In later times, any random food street could easily outshine the Tang Dynasty’s finest palace fare. He’d rather have two steamed buns than be treated to the so-called imperial meal.

At the entrance of the Imperial Study stood four young eunuchs and sixteen Imperial Guards. Yan Dong went in to report, instructing Cai Cong to wait under the veranda. But how could he possibly behave himself?

After only a few minutes, he began glancing this way and that, occasionally admiring the elegantly dressed court ladies passing by, then ambling over to the Imperial Guards to tap their armor and ask, with tireless inquisitiveness, whether it was heavy, if they were tired, whether their legs ached from standing so long. “If your legs are sore, don’t force yourselves—rest for a bit, soak your feet in some hot water. That’s the way to be comfortable,” he advised, his face radiating bliss as he spoke.

The guards around him began to change color, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads. Day after day, they were used to the fatigue of standing guard, but after Cai Cong’s words, they suddenly felt their legs go weak, overwhelmed by the urge to sit down and rest right there.

“You’re all drenched in sweat—thirsty, aren’t you? Let me tell you, if you had a mouthful of wine right now, it would be perfect. One sip, and it would feel as if every organ in your body had been refreshed. Ah, so satisfying!” With that, Cai Cong took out a small gourd hanging at his waist, shook his foot, and took a hearty swig of salt water.

At last, one of the guards couldn’t take it anymore. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he said quickly, “Brothers, keep watch over the study. I’m off to use the latrine—back in a moment.” He dashed off, as though afraid someone might beat him to it.

“Little Lord Cai, His Majesty summons you. Hurry up!” Yan Dong appeared at some point, his face expressionless as he looked at Cai Cong.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. You all take your time standing there. With that heavy armor, your feet might be unbearably sore soon. Don’t take a tumble now,” Cai Cong said suggestively as he walked away, leaving the guards’ faces even more contorted, as if ants were crawling up their legs.

The Imperial Study was spacious but not ostentatious; with the empire newly settled, Li Shimin had to set an example. Upon entering, Cai Cong bowed and said, “Your servant Cai Cong greets Your Majesty.”

He waited for some time, but Li Shimin did not give the command to rise, so Cai Cong remained bent at the waist. Stealing a glance upward, he saw Li Shimin grinning mischievously at him.

“Your Majesty, I beg leave to retire to the countryside,” Cai Cong said awkwardly, for this body of his was not as robust as it once was, and he was already growing uncomfortable from bowing for so long.

Li Shimin had just taken a sip of tea; hearing this, he spat it all over Yan Dong. But neither master nor servant minded—they both clutched their stomachs and roared with laughter.

“All right, stand up. How can you, so young, talk of retiring? What, then, of all the aged ministers at court?” Li Shimin said, exasperated.

“That’s hardly the same. Your Majesty would never tease those ministers the way you do a child like me,” Cai Cong muttered under his breath, though Li Shimin heard every word.

“And yet, you just now were toying with the imperial guards. They stand long hours on rotation; why must you torment them further?” Li Shimin’s tone turned stern, a wave of authority making Cai Cong shrink back instinctively.

But he quickly raised his head and protested, “My good intentions are mistaken for malice! I didn’t torment them—I was testing their willpower.”

“Their willpower?”

“Yes, perseverance. Through words alone, you can make someone feel exhausted, even if they are used to standing watch every day. It’s the power of suggestion that makes them think they can’t endure. That one fellow who ran off—he lacks the grit for real responsibility.”

Cai Cong spoke with careless frankness. Li Shimin only smiled, offering no reply, while Yan Dong quietly withdrew from the study.

“I’ve heard that in ancient times there were sages born with innate wisdom. I never thought I’d see one with my own eyes today. But as far as I know, two months ago you were still muddle-headed. How did you suddenly become so clever? Tell me, which school of thought is behind you?” Li Shimin asked calmly, a note of wonder in his voice as he gazed into Cai Cong’s eyes.

“I do wonder,” Cai Cong replied, scratching his head in frustration. “After the chaos of the Five Barbarians and the wars at the end of the Sui, after so much turmoil, how can you be so sure that any school of thought has survived?”

It seemed that people in power, when faced with something beyond their control, always suspected a conspiracy—if not a small one, then a grand one. Was there no room left for hope or beauty in their hearts?

“Tradition passes like a torch through chaos. Some schools even provoke conflict for their own ends. If noble families could survive a thousand years, why not those who hide even deeper? Speak, boy, which school do you serve? I am not without tolerance—if your teachings are sound, I will accept them,” Li Shimin boasted of his magnanimity, but in his heart, Cai Cong sneered. As if an emperor’s word could decide such things! Since Confucianism became supreme, any school wishing to survive had to don its garb. Try to establish another school, and even your throne would not be secure. Such talk could only fool a child—Cai Cong had no intention of humoring him.

“But I truly am not the heir to any school! Think about it, Your Majesty—what kind of school would send an eight-year-old child out into the world? That would be madness!”

Cai Cong wore a look of utter helplessness. Just then, a silvery laugh sounded from behind the screen, but it ceased almost immediately.

Li Shimin’s expression darkened. “If there is no school or sect guiding you, how did you become so intelligent and perceptive?”

“From the age of four, I began pondering—what is the sky? What is the earth? Why was I born? Where does the passage of time halt? Who was I before my birth, and who am I after? Why do the myriad things of the world exist as they do?”

A trace of bewilderment softened Cai Cong’s eyes, though wisdom shone in his gaze. Those inside and outside the screen all drew a sharp breath in unison. A four-year-old pondering questions worthy of Qu Yuan’s ‘Heavenly Questions’—it was almost beyond belief.