Chapter 58: The Royal Lesson

After the meeting dispersed, Cai Cong automatically and obediently made his way towards the inner palace. Before leaving, Li Shimin had given him a threatening glance, silently warning: “If you dare walk away like that, you’re dead.” Cai Cong understood at once, returning a look that promised, “I’m coming right away, just spare my life, will you?” Only then did Li Shimin leave, satisfied.

When Cai Cong reached the imperial study, Li Shimin was practicing calligraphy. As an emperor with ambition and ideals, he demanded of himself both civil and martial excellence, mastery of song and dance—and indeed, he accomplished all these. Cai Cong waited until Li Shimin finished, his heart full of contentment, before sidling up, face thick with flattery, and lavishly praised the emperor’s calligraphy as capturing the very essence of Wang Xizhi’s art. Old Li accepted the compliment with a pleased and self-satisfied smile.

But then his tone turned cold. “Was it you who set the fire?”

“It certainly wasn’t me, Your Majesty,” Cai Cong replied, standing tall, “but it was I who gave the order.” It was true—he hadn’t set the fire himself; someone else had.

“You have some courage, at least,” Li Shimin nodded, satisfied. “If you’d dared lie to me, I’d have sent you out to be executed on the spot.” He scrutinized Cai Cong—this young man was truly hard to read. He had a kind heart, that much was clear, yet his actions could be ruthless and merciless, as if he’d stop at nothing to wipe out his enemies.

“Tell me, what use is that clever head of yours? Burning down the mansions of three ministers—how could you go so far? If I hadn’t seen that you meant no harm to lives, I wouldn’t tolerate you. They insulted your mother; you could have avenged her, but you made such a scene—how do you expect to have any standing in the court now?”

Li Shimin spoke with disappointment, as though lamenting a jade uncarved. If Du Ruhui hadn’t reported that only the outer courtyards were burned and no one was hurt, he truly would have had Cai Cong executed.

“I didn’t want things to go this far!” Cai Cong protested, “I only wanted to make sure their families went hungry for a while, just to see how arrogant they’d be then. The fire was just a side note—I merely meant for a few rooms to be burned, just to make a point. Who knew they’d misunderstand and burn down three whole mansions? I’m honestly quite upset about it.”

Cai Cong spoke with apparent forthrightness, though there was little trace of actual regret. Truth be told, while he hadn’t intended the fire to be so large, the result pleased him all the same.

Li Shimin sent him flying with a heavy kick that made Cai Cong feel as if his insides were ablaze, the pain beyond words.

Li Shimin’s gaze was icy. “I spare you out of regard for your talent, but that’s no excuse for reckless behavior. Such a grave mistake—if you show no sign of remorse, how can you face the Crown Prince, who begged for you through the night, or the Empress, who nearly fainted from worry when she heard you’d set fire to the Duke’s mansion?”

Struggling to rise, Cai Cong now truly understood what it meant for an emperor’s might to be as fathomless as the abyss. The kick was nothing—the look in Li Shimin’s eyes was what terrified him. The fate of life and death in a single imperial word—such is the power of a monarch.

“I deserve death. Is Her Majesty the Empress unharmed? She suffers from asthma—if my actions caused her illness, I’d be damned beyond redemption.” Cai Cong’s concern was genuine; he repaid kindness doubly to those who treated him well.

This young man was one who distinguished clearly between gratitude and enmity, repaying both in kind. The Empress, Zhangsun, suffered from asthma and died in the tenth year of the Zhenguan era—after her death, there was no longer anyone who could restrain Li Shimin’s swelling ambition. Thereafter, his imperial aspirations knew no bounds. As the Heavenly Khan, he gradually ceased to heed his ministers’ counsel, grew arrogant and extravagant, and embarked on lavish construction projects. Had Zhangsun still lived, how could he have done so?

“At least you have some conscience. The Empress is currently recuperating in the inner palace—you may go and pay your respects. But remember—do not agitate her again, or I’ll personally see you dead.” Li Shimin threatened once more. After beating Cai Cong, he felt much better; in his eyes, Cai Cong’s mother had been weak and indulgent, leaving him poorly disciplined and thus so extreme in temperament.

Since both the Empress and he himself were connected by fate to this young man, it was now his duty to discipline him. Had he not seen how anxious the Empress had become? A lesson was needed, to teach him right from wrong.

Cai Cong was already well acquainted with the way to the Qingning Palace and soon arrived at Zhangsun’s quarters. After announcing himself and receiving permission, he entered.

The Empress Zhangsun was half-reclined on a couch, a soft silk coverlet draped over her, looking utterly weary and drained. Her cheeks were flushed, and with every breath her brows knit involuntarily—a sure sign her asthma had flared.

“Your servant pays respects, Your Majesty. How are you feeling?”

“Rise. Come here.” Zhangsun beckoned him closer. Cai Cong hurried to obey, but suddenly her eyes flashed with anger. She drew a rattan cane from behind her and began raining blows on Cai Cong’s head and shoulders.

“How dare you act so recklessly! Today you set fire to a house—will you slaughter an entire family tomorrow?” She scolded him between gasps, striking again and again. Cai Cong tried to shield himself, but the cane landed wherever it pleased.

“Spare me, Your Majesty! It hurts!”

Tears and snot streamed down Cai Cong’s face—not out of weakness, but from sheer pain. The Empress showed no mercy; his clothes were torn, his hands and legs lashed raw.

“Now you know pain? Did you think of others’ pain when you set that fire? They insulted your mother—why not take it out on the men involved? Did you ever consider that the servants are people too? Four lives lost in the flames—where was your compassion from the Weishui River bank then?”

The Empress scolded and wept as she beat him. Clever and mischievous as he was, she was fond of him—perhaps that was why her anger was so fierce.

Outside, Li Shimin and the Crown Prince Li Chengqian peered anxiously through the door. “Father, is that really my mother?” Li Chengqian asked in terror.

“That’s your mother indeed! Two years ago, when you fell from a tree at your own manor, you were beaten just like this—have you forgotten?” Li Shimin replied, surprised. In all their years together, Zhangsun had always been gentle and understanding; this was only the second time he’d seen her lose control.

“Father, perhaps you should intervene. I’m afraid to go in—what if Mother beats me too?” Li Chengqian said anxiously. He couldn’t remember ever being beaten, but his mother’s fury now frightened him.

“If you want to go, be my guest. Your mother won’t let me see her like this.” Li Shimin kept his eyes fixed on the scene within; last time, after she’d lost control and beaten Li Chengqian, she’d been so mortified she wouldn’t share his chambers for a month. He had no wish to repeat the experience.

Inside, Zhangsun’s blows came harder and faster, her breaths growing rougher, until at last she collapsed weakly against the couch, the cane dropping from her hand. Cai Cong rushed forward to support her, shouting for help, “Quick, summon the imperial physician!”

Li Shimin burst in at once, cradling Zhangsun in his arms. “Guanyin, are you all right? Quickly—fetch the imperial physician!”

“Crown Prince, open the windows. What are you all standing around for? Remove all the braziers and incense!” Cai Cong commanded through his pain. During an asthma attack, fresh air was essential—yet even in later ages, no cure would be found for such a stubborn ailment.

Qingning Palace was thrown into chaos. Every maid and eunuch was in a panic—the Empress had fainted. Cai Cong knelt at the door, while Li Chengqian wept inconsolably.

Li Shimin’s face was dark and menacing, his anger so palpable it made the imperial physicians tremble.

“How is the Empress?” Li Shimin demanded as soon as the pulse was checked.

“Her Majesty is in no immediate danger—this is an old ailment. With rest and calm, she will recover. But in future, she must avoid great joy or sorrow, or else… or else she could suffocate from blocked air,” the chief physician replied, kneeling and not daring to move.

Li Shimin kicked the physician away in fury, roaring, “Men! Drag this useless lot out and behead them! What use are you to me if you cannot cure my Empress!”