Chapter 63: The Agony of Monarch and Minister

After reassuring his old subordinates, Li Shimin finally turned his attention to the Left Guard. Looking at the eyes filled with reverence and fervor, Li Shimin felt a deep satisfaction at their genuine respect for him.

“I am greatly pleased with your performance!” He placed one hand on the battlements and spoke in a voice that echoed with authority.

“To defend the Great Tang! To expand our borders!”

The soldiers of the Left Guard immediately shouted at the top of their lungs, unable to contain their excitement—the emperor himself had praised them! This was glory enough to honor their ancestors.

“I hope you will remain neither arrogant nor complacent, and in the future, bring merit to the Great Tang, receive titles, and secure honor for your families. You have done well today, and rewards shall be bestowed soon. Now go and tend to your wounds. Earl of Chang’an, follow me back to the palace.”

With those words, Li Shimin disappeared from the city wall. The Black Armored Army, dejected, withdrew without daring to remove their masks. Meng Baolai and Xu Jie walked away arm in arm, each wearing a blissful smile. The people of Chang’an, watching the scene, could only grumble in frustration.

In Li Shimin’s study, he and top figures of the Great Tang—Zhangsun Wuji, Gao Shilian, Li Jing, Li Ji, and the ever-resourceful Fang and Du—gazed intently at Cai Cong, like a pack of brigands eyeing a helpless bride.

“Your Majesty, uncles, if you have something to say, just say it! Don’t look at me like that—you’re making my skin crawl. What do you intend to do with me?” Cai Cong cupped his hands in a respectful greeting, eyeing these rough men with apprehension.

“Tell us—is this an isolated case, or can it be implemented army-wide? In just three months, these undistinguished recruits have become so formidable. Can this truly be rolled out to the whole army?”

Li Jing, a grandee of the military, glared with bloodshot eyes, his voice tinged with hope. The others looked eagerly to Cai Cong. Li Ji and Yuchi Gong gripped their ceremonial tablets, ready to beat him half to death should he dare say no.

Faced with this band of tough men, Li Shimin’s expression remained the calmest, though he was fingering a jade scepter—what for? Cai Cong swallowed nervously and stammered, “If this is the standard you expect, then it's no problem to implement it throughout the army. The only issue is that a thousand men are not enough for the task.”

“What do you mean by ‘this standard’? Could it be they can become even more formidable?” Li Ji could not restrain himself, howling as he lifted Cai Cong off his feet.

“Put me down! Don’t get so excited you drop me to my death. This is just the beginning—they haven’t even completed the basic training yet. How could they be considered truly formidable?” Cai Cong answered as gently as he could. Li Ji let him go, and he landed hard on his backside.

Before he could even utter a curse, he saw the old ministers weeping with joy as they congratulated Li Shimin. Witnessing this, Cai Cong rubbed his sore backside and decided not to pursue the matter further.

These men had built the Great Tang with their own hands, yet—because of the nation’s limited strength—they had to watch as foreign tribes plundered the land of China. None could understand the pain in their hearts; naturally, they yearned for the empire to grow strong.

Li Shimin’s smile was both aged and weary—hard to imagine in a man of thirty, his laughter carried the weight of an eighty-year-old warlord. Suddenly, he stopped smiling and, looking down at Cai Cong, spoke each word with deliberation: “Earl of Chang’an, I want this implemented in all sixteen guards as quickly as possible. Whatever you need, I will provide. Tell me—can I trust you?”

“Why would Your Majesty not trust your servant? Beyond training, the most important thing is to instill loyalty to the sovereign and love for the nation. These troops are Your Majesty’s army, the army of the Great Tang. Should anyone seek to deceive or betray the emperor, to undermine the dynasty, unless it becomes as tyrannical as the late Sui, I believe the soldiers themselves would bind the culprit and deliver him to the court.”

“Good, very good. But will such measures not undermine the authority of generals? Might it not impede their command?” Li Shimin, pleased, voiced his concern.

“No need to worry, Sire. As long as military orders do not harm the people or violate the laws of Tang, what soldier would defy his general? Military law is harsh—disobedience means death.” Cai Cong spoke gravely; this was no trivial matter, and the officers present looked grim.

“You may withdraw for now. Reflect on what you need and how long it will take to implement this in all sixteen guards. The Empress has not seen you for two months and was asking after you just yesterday. Go visit her before you leave.” Only after a moment’s silence did Li Shimin speak.

“Understood, Your Majesty. I miss the Empress as well. I’ll take my leave.” Cai Cong replied cheerfully. It was his greatest wish to be a favored noble with powerful backing. In five thousand years of Chinese history, how many emperors lived long lives? Those who did either collapsed in decadence or exhaustion—most met early ends.

After Cai Cong left, silence fell upon the study. No one spoke, for this was, in essence, a weakening of everyone’s military power—a matter of utmost gravity.

“If what Cai Cong says is feasible, it would be a blessing beyond measure,” Li Jing suddenly declared. He had no choice but to speak; otherwise, Li Shimin might suspect the loyalty of his ministers.

“I know it’s a boon to the country and people. Yet, if enacted, it would be a great injustice to you, my old friends. When we fought to found this realm, I promised to share prosperity with you all. If I do this, the world may say that ruler and ministers are at odds,” Li Shimin sighed, his face troubled.

“Your Majesty overthinks. The world knows of your care for us. The way to strengthen the army must be carried out. Throughout history, dynasties fall for two reasons: tyranny and weak rulers, or when ministers grow too strong and power slips away. If the Tang army is loyal to the sovereign and loves the nation, then as long as the crown prince is well taught, our dynasty could last from three generations to ten thousand,” Gao Shilian spoke with a fervor in his eyes; the dream of Qin Shi Huang had long been the aspiration of rulers and loyal subjects.

Li Shimin shook his head with a smile. “In the past, such dreams were unrealistic. Do not forget, human hearts are fickle, and Heaven’s will is inscrutable—too many variables. The mighty Qin, with loyal soldiers, fell after only two emperors because of one Zhao Gao.”

“Even so, strengthening the army brings only benefit. The Turks are not far off—each time I think of them my heart aches, and I long to take Jieli’s head for a wine cup,” Yuchi Gong said through gritted teeth. This was not only the shame of Tang, but a lifelong stain for all generals.

“We beg Your Majesty to reform and strengthen the army!”

At the mention of the Turks, every face turned grim, and all pleaded in unison with Li Shimin.

Hatred flashed in Li Shimin’s eyes as he smashed the table before him with one fist. “Strengthen the army and reform! I will crush the Turks!”

“Your Majesty is wise!”

All responded in unison. If they were to act, they would do so thoroughly. Li Shimin’s determination was unwavering; he only feared being accused of discarding his meritorious ministers once their purpose was served. Now, with this record, it would be clear the ministers themselves requested the reforms, not the emperor’s coercion. Everyone would have peace of mind.

“Your Majesty, officials in Liangzhou report that King of Changle, Li Youliang, is keeping death warriors and colluding with the Turks, possibly plotting rebellion,” Du Ruhui said, submitting a memorial to Li Shimin.

Li Youliang was of the same generation as Li Yuan, the son of Li Yuan’s sixth uncle—a man known for his cruelty, exiled to govern Liangzhou by Li Yuan, to the misery of the local people and passing merchants.

Li Shimin set aside the memorial and sighed, “My royal uncle does have a quick temper, but that alone does not prove treasonous intent. Is there any evidence of rebellion?”

“None as yet. However, the King of Changle often travels with a hundred men, and his arrogance is notorious. Last April, he repelled a Turkic incursion, but lately, he’s been seen frequently with Turks at his residence. I propose we send someone to investigate,” Du Ruhui replied swiftly. This was as good as open rebellion, but one must never state things so bluntly—always leave oneself an escape route.

“In that case, send someone to investigate in secret. If the accusations are true, punishment will be severe,” Li Shimin said calmly. He had executed his own brothers; did his cousin uncle dare stir up trouble?

(End of this chapter)