After the summer harvest, the county magistrate of Lantian County would always visit the Yun family to pay respects to the Minister of War. This was proper etiquette, and every magistrate in each term did so. This year, the topic of conversation with Yun Ye was the problem of managing unruly people.

The county magistrate was very distressed. In previous years, mobilizing the people for corvée labor only required a single document from the county office. Now it was different—he needed to clearly tell them which specific article in national law stipulated they must perform corvée labor at this particular time of year. Those who couldn’t explain clearly would be refused, and dispatched clerks even faced the danger of being beaten.

Throughout the countryside were merit-earning veterans and literate farmers. If you couldn’t persuade them, no one paid any attention to the county office. The magistrate very much wanted to ask whether such a high official as the Minister of War had any good methods for dealing with the current situation.

“No. In the end, it’s that Great Tang’s laws can’t keep up with the changes among the common people, so now officials are left speechless by the people’s questions. I’m a bit better off—the tenant farmers are just planning to invest in the Yun family’s merchant caravans, not planning to stop growing crops for me. Now there’s a manpower shortage everywhere. Summer is the perfect time for brewing wine, but we can’t find enough manpower. Even the Yun family servants are taking turns—it’s quite embarrassing to talk about.”

He couldn’t put on official airs with his hometown’s parent official. The man had come wearing simple clothes and a small hat, carrying a box of pastries to seek advice, so Yun Ye couldn’t help but patiently console him. He came merely to demonstrate his achievements, hoping his superiors would notice his hard work—that was satisfaction enough. As for how to govern the people, he didn’t need anyone teaching him what to do.

After treating him to fine wine and good food, the magistrate sat drunk in his carriage preparing to return home, especially after conversing at length with the Minister of War at the Yun family residence and being seen by almost everyone. Only then did he leave with satisfaction.

Yun Ye knew he was a prop. Being a prop naturally required the self-awareness of a prop—he must satisfy the actor to fulfill his responsibility as a prop.

Not only did Yun Ye say this, but Li Er had recently said the same thing. He said he was now just a human-shaped seal, only needing to stamp the imperial seal on memorials. When his mood was good, he’d agree; when his mood was bad, he wouldn’t agree. If he was extremely angry, he’d write a severe rebuke on the memorial. No matter what he did, he found the results wouldn’t differ much from the content of memorials sent up by the Three Departments.

Fang Xuanling could finally retire, because Li Chengqian had taken over the Central Secretariat. Zhangsun Wuji, his sword still sharp, continued serving as Left Vice Minister of the Chancellery. The Department of State Affairs had no chief—Minister of Revenue Chu Suiliang served as Left Vice Minister, while Minister of War Yun Ye served as Right Vice Minister. Being evenly matched, the two factions had no choice but to move from opposition toward cooperation. Yun Ye couldn’t perpetually keep Zhangsun Chong sidelined, and Zhangsun Wuji couldn’t forbid Xu Jingzong from making his mark in the Chancellery.

Whether Li Chengqian, Zhangsun Wuji, or Yun Ye—they were actually all the people most familiar with Li Er. Memorials and documents emerging from these three already possessed legitimacy. Li Er’s opinions had even become less important. Thus Li Er, who controlled the power of the Sixteen Guards, never allowed anyone to touch them even slightly.

Two years had passed. Great Tang’s officials had become very accepting of the current situation. Officials of the Zhangsun faction had grown accustomed to being challenged by Yun Ye and Xu Jingzong. Officials of the Yun Ye faction had also grown accustomed to being questioned by Zhangsun Wuji and Chu Suiliang. As for Li Chengqian, he helped whichever side was right. Matters that truly couldn’t be decided would be handed to Li Er for him to handle as he wished.

Great Tang was too vast—so vast that Li Er alone simply had no way to attend to everything. The Secretariat daily needed to burn documents weighing up to three thousand jin. The imperial palace had demolished Xuanwu Gate and installed the enormous Secretariat on this empty ground occupying a full thirty mu. The gloom and bloodshed of years past had been surrounded by bustling clerks.

Li Er, wearing a long robe, strolled along the white jade railings of Wanmin Palace. At his feet was the vast empire he ruled. This was an extremely ordinary morning. Everywhere below him were bustling crowds. An astonishing number of officials helped him govern this most enormous nation. Li Er’s routine was now extremely regular—like an old farmer, rising at dawn and resting at dusk. Li Xiang held a brocade box following behind him, containing Li Er’s favorite grape wine. When his hand extended, Li Xiang would quickly hand the wine cup to his grandfather.

Rounding the western side of the great hall, on Vermillion Bird Avenue they were erecting a massive statue. This was something Li Er had long hoped would appear, also the product of Yun Ye’s flattery—a huge granite-carved statue now about to be erected.

“Xiang’er, what kind of place do you think the distant islands are? Can they really block the empire’s fleet’s conquest?” Li Er took a sip of wine and asked Li Xiang behind him.

“In reply to Your Majesty, the distant islands are just sea islands in the distance—nothing else strange about them. Last year when the Naval Bureau’s secret agents returned from the distant islands, they said just this one sentence. From the travelogue of nearly a hundred thousand words they recorded, you can see it’s truly so—the distant islands are just sea islands in the distance.”

Li Er nodded in agreement. Court affairs had finally settled down. There was much less intrigue but much more unknown. The empire’s focus now began pushing roads toward remote prefectures and counties. Li Er understood clearly that only by strengthening communication could an empire avoid instantly falling into disintegration.

Zhangsun Wuji was lifting his robes and climbing the steps. His graying hair appeared so glaring in the sunlight. Now white-haired old officials in court were already very rare. Zhangsun Wuji had finally endured until becoming a person of high virtue and prestige.

Li Er smiled coldly, put away his wine cup, and returned to Wanmin Palace with Li Xiang. If he guessed correctly, Zhangsun Wuji’s visit today would still be to discuss the ownership issue of the East Sea Fleet.

The South Sea Fleet was untouchable, so the powerful East Sea Fleet became Zhangsun Wuji’s only demand. But Zhang Liang was very uncooperative in this matter, completely ignoring the Zhangsun faction’s demands. He insisted that only His Majesty the Emperor’s decree could decide everything. As for documents from the Three Departments, he didn’t recognize them. He placed himself in the position of the imperial family’s house servant, awaiting Li Er’s decision.

Zhangsun held the constantly drooling and acting spoiled Li Zhi, strolling by Taiye Pool. She now appeared much younger than previous years. Perhaps because her son had become a small child again, her mood had also returned to when Li Zhi was six years old.

A bird of paradise flew out from the huge bird cage, perched on a finger, and called twice. Li Zhi picked up a rock and threw it at the bird of paradise. The bird shrieked and flew up, constantly circling over Taiye Pool.

“Songtsen Gampo is dead? If I remember correctly, he’s only thirty-two years old this year. How could he die of illness so young? Who is the current Tsenpo of Tubo? How does Gar Tongtsen handle himself?”

After reading the document, Li Er asked Zhangsun Wuji with a smile.

“Your Majesty is correct. Songtsen Gampo is indeed only thirty-two this year. It’s said he died from a headache illness that literally pained him to death. Songtsen Gampo’s son Gungsong Gungtsen died young years ago, so the Tubo throne passed to his grandson. Because of his young age, power continues to be administered by Grand Minister Gar Tongtsen, who manages Tubo’s military and political affairs.”

“So the one who truly calls the shots in Tubo is Gar Tongtsen?”

“Indeed so, Your Majesty.”

After walking a circuit around the great hall, Li Er said with a smile to Zhangsun Wuji: “Transmit my decree—dispatch envoys to offer condolences. At the same time, confer upon Gar Tongtsen the title of Zi King, and upon his son Lun Qinling the title of Lu Marquis, with a fief of thirty thousand households.”

Zhangsun Wuji said expressionlessly: “Gar Tongtsen is also an outstanding hero of his generation. If Your Majesty does this, he may very likely lead troops to war in order to divert domestic conflicts. The first target would be our Great Tang’s Hexi territory. Xue Rengui in Khotan and Su Dingfang in Hexi are no match for this person. This minister believes Marquis Yun should go on campaign.”

Li Er waved his hand: “He won’t. Wuji, when it comes to governance you’re an all-rounder, but when it comes to military affairs, you’d better speak less—you make a fool of yourself whenever you speak. At this time, Gar Tongtsen needs to glorify his own military achievements. There’s a ninety percent chance the place he can attack is Tianzhu. Him wanting to attack Hexi or send troops through the Blackstone Valley—in the end it’s a delusion. He won’t make such a choice. Once he fails in great battle with our dynasty, what awaits him may very likely be death and clan extermination!”

Zhangsun Wuji left Wanmin Palace holding the Emperor’s decree, his heart extremely melancholy. At the time he most needed allies, Songtsen Gampo had died, and Gar Tongtsen had no choice but to hastily send troops. The Emperor was right—Gar Tongtsen’s target was Tianzhu.