Chapter 73: The Third Invitation

“This cannot be allowed. The empire has only just settled and begun to prosper; how can we stir up more trouble?” With a sweep of his long sleeves, Li Shimin resolutely refused Cai Cong’s request.

“What is one family’s grief compared to the cries of an entire province? I ask to be appointed to oversee relief efforts in Shandong, with full power over life and death,” Cai Cong continued, unwavering. Those who feast upon the people’s flesh are never despised—so long as they possess the ability to rule. But those who lack talent and instead bleed the people dry to fill their own coffers are guilty beyond forgiveness.

“What should be done now?” Li Shimin gazed into Cai Cong’s eyes for a long while before speaking.

“Repair the waterworks, locate sources of water, provide relief to the suffering. Should anyone obstruct the process… execute them!” Cai Cong’s words were steeped in murderous intent, transforming his demeanor entirely. Having been away from bloodshed for so long, he nearly forgot that he was once a notorious outlaw, whose word decided life and death, who slew men as easily as chickens.

“Excessive slaughter does the empire no good. That is precisely why I strive to govern in peace, avoiding the raising of arms lightly.”

“When killing is necessary, kill. The realm cannot be stabilized with mere benevolence. I request full power over life and death, to carve out a path of survival for the people of Shandong.” Cai Cong interrupted Li Shimin, making his petition for the third time, his gaze unwavering, his expression unchanged.

Li Shimin turned to look outside the grand hall, and after a long silence, spoke coldly: “Since you are so determined, I will grant your wish. Tomorrow you will receive imperial instructions, placing you in charge of Shandong. Do not disappoint me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

Li Shimin sent Cai Cong out of the palace; at such a critical moment, he could not stay overnight in the inner chambers, lest it give the impression that Li Shimin was personally directing his actions—something that would harm everyone involved.

Empress Zhangsun hesitated several times, her intelligence keen enough to discern the heavy murderous intent in Cai Cong’s heart. She feared his journey to Shandong would turn the province into a river of blood. Yet Li Shimin had already consented, and the inner palace was forbidden from interfering in state affairs; so she kept her silence.

Upon returning to his estate, Cai Cong ordered his men to take the token he had received from Li Shimin and head for the academy and the Xiaohuan Mountain barracks, while he himself waited for the Tang sun to rise.

At dawn, Winter Bamboo helped him don fitted armor, strapped a short sword to his waist, and saddled a small horse. With a solemn expression, Cai Cong rode toward the imperial palace.

Under the covered walkways, a group of ministers whispered among themselves; the censors watched closely, ready to report anyone who breached propriety.

The sound of armor plates scraping suddenly drew attention. Even military officials wore court attire, not armor, when attending court—was war about to break out?

Cai Cong strode forward, his face cold and distant. A censor stepped up to reprimand him: “You come to court not in official attire but in armor—this is a grave violation of protocol, Lord Chang’an. I must report this to His Majesty.”

Cai Cong looked at him silently, standing beneath the colonnade without uttering a word, which infuriated the censor, who cursed him as a disrespectful wretch.

“Court ceremony begins! Officials, prepare to pay homage!” The procession entered in order, and after the acclamation, the censor eagerly stepped forward to submit his complaint against Cai Cong. Yet before he could speak, Yan Dong strode forward and announced, “By imperial decree, Cai Cong is summoned!”

“Your servant Cai Cong receives the decree!” Cai Cong advanced and knelt solemnly.

“The Emperor commands: Shandong is afflicted by severe drought; the people are destitute, outlaws roam, and the situation is precarious. Disaster relief cannot be delayed. Lord Chang’an, Cai Cong, is appointed imperial envoy, commanding five thousand troops to oversee all affairs in Shandong. You are granted power over life and death, with authority equal to a general. Use it judiciously, do not abuse it. This is the imperial will.”

“I obey the decree. I take my leave.” Cai Cong spoke coldly, accepting the decree and seal, striding from the palace. Some officials were so shocked by the scene that they could barely utter a word; one cried out about a stomachache, only to be met with Li Shimin’s icy gaze and the imperial physician entering with a chest, frightening him nearly out of his wits.

Outside the palace gates, the carriage sped to Xiaohuan Mountain, where five thousand elite troops stood ready for Cai Cong’s address.

“The disaster is urgent; you have seen the hellscape outside Chang’an’s walls—how much worse must Shandong be? Where are the Golden Touch Commanders?”

“We are here!” A man, thin as a monkey, called out loudly. Beside him were several equally gaunt men and a dozen dressed in convict attire.

“Your clan’s grave-robbing crimes are innumerable. Today you have a chance to atone—are you willing?” Cai Cong declared loudly. The comprehensive history had revealed countless hidden sects, but none so reviled as the tomb robbers; regardless of their explanations, their infamy remained.

“We are willing!” The thin man knelt, howling—if he could redeem the Golden Touch Commanders, his name would go down in history.

“Good. The situation is dire; we set out immediately.”

Cai Cong glanced guiltily at his worried sister in the crowd before turning to the carriage. Li Shimin had arranged for the court to deliberate all day, keeping everyone inside so no one could send word outside—he, too, had to hurry.

The army marched swiftly for a day, covering a hundred miles before setting camp. Gan Xinda led a team to secretly return, and after two more days, Old Meng led another to ambush in place. Cai Cong was ruthless; anyone attempting to leak information would find death outside Chang’an.

Meanwhile, in Liangzhou, Meng Baolai had become one of Li Youliang’s chief generals. The Liangzhou barracks were open to him, and he, with Master Bieshan—one in civil, the other in martial affairs—became trusted confidants of Li Youliang.

“The prince has already made arrangements with Xieli Khan. Tomorrow I will raise the banner of rebellion, and he will send troops in support. We’ll seize the surrounding provinces, then march on Chang’an. When I am emperor, Bieshan, you will be my Left Prime Minister, Meng Da, you will be Grand General Protector, and all of you will be ennobled as dukes and marquises.”

Li Youliang sat in the governor’s mansion, fantasizing about sitting upon the dragon throne, reigning over the empire. The others were equally jubilant, fond of comparing themselves to Liu Bang, the Han emperor—if butchers and menial servants could rise to riches with Liu Bang, they believed they could too.

“In that case, we owe our thanks to the prince.” That man spat several times, then laughed, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your rewards! Ha ha…”

“Yes, good! I’ll make you a Duke of the Realm. Ha ha ha…” Li Youliang laughed heartily, bestowing titles as if they cost nothing.

“My official rank is too low as well—if possible, could I have a promotion?” A cold voice sounded, immediately provoking a chorus of curses.

Li Youliang glared, startled at first, then burst out laughing, “Ha ha ha… Yuwen Shiji, you’ve come at just the right time. Tomorrow I’ll sacrifice you to the banners, ensuring my victory.”

“Hmph! Li Youliang, you have enjoyed imperial favor yet conspire to rebel—according to the law, you must be executed! Surrender now, lest you endure unnecessary suffering.”

Yuwen Shiji spoke boldly, flanked by armored warriors with blades and spears. After a month of frustration at the inn, he could finally exercise his authority as acting governor.

“You overestimate yourself! Do you think your handful of men can seize my great Liangzhou?” Li Youliang sneered, then barked with murderous intent, “Men, seize Yuwen Shiji and his followers!”

At his command, people poured out of the governor’s mansion, and in an instant the two sides faced off. Weapons gleamed coldly, the scent of death thickened, and even the air seemed to freeze.

“Heh, ever since Li Shimin sent you, I’ve been waiting for this moment. Do you think your few men can stop me? In a short time, my troops outside will march in—then you’ll be chopped to pieces! But if you surrender now, I’ll grant you the rank of Grand General. What do you say?”

Li Youliang was delighted, looking down at Yuwen Shiji as if he had already surrendered. Yuwen Shiji glanced at him disdainfully and replied, “You think you can rebel against the throne? Guards, seize these traitors. Any who resist—kill without mercy!”

At his command, his soldiers charged—this was their moment to win glory and honors. Li Youliang, enraged by the scene, shouted, “Kill them! Ten taels of silver for every enemy slain, a hundred for Yuwen Shiji!”