The border between Jiangzhou and Jinzhou: Taiping Pass.

Night’s curtain hung gently over the scene. A gauzy mist draped itself across the ranges; daylight had drowned beyond the Yellow River. In the empty wilderness, all was desolate. Taiping Pass was the vital thoroughfare from Hedong to the Yellow River’s Dragon Gate Ford, and had been the object of military contention time and again. After countless wars, the fortress was now in a sorry state — the battlements crumbled, the walls stripped bare, the gaps wide enough for a dog to leap through with ease.

And now, the supreme ruler of all this land was strolling at a leisurely pace along those battered walls.

Li Shimin — the warrior-emperor who had forged the Tang Empire with his own hands — was just thirty-one years old this year, only one year older than Xuanzang, in the very prime of his life. He wore a purple-red round-collared short-sleeved robe and a soft-winged black cloth cap, with black boots on his feet. His features were handsome, with two neatly trimmed upswept mustaches that gave him an air of martial decisiveness. His whole person was like an upright, vigorous spear. Years of military campaigns had honed him to a state of powerful fitness; the muscles of his arms and even his face were full of strength.

Not far behind him, senior ministers including Right Vice-Chancellor Pei Ji, Left Vice-Chancellor Du Ruhui, Minister of Personnel Chang Sun Wuji, and Secretary-Monitor Wei Zheng followed, watching him pace along the battlements. Beside Pei Ji stood an elderly monk draped in a red kasaya robe.

Below the pass, Right Martial Guard Grand General and Duke of Wu, Yuchi Jingde, commanded the Sixteen Guard Imperial Army — over a thousand men who secured Taiping Pass without a single gap.

Three li below the pass wall was Li Shimin’s field camp, tents stretching as far as the eye could see, with shouts of men and neighing of horses. Li Shimin was not without his difficulties — it wasn’t that he wanted to camp in the wilderness. This inspection of the Hedong Circuit had brought five thousand Imperial Guards, plus the eunuchs, palace ladies, and imperial relatives and nobles in his retinue, along with the great ministers of court and their servants, and the local servants and laborers provided by the prefectures and counties — a force of seven or eight thousand in all. After leaving Jiangzhou, the nearest town large enough to house such a party was Jinzhou City, a full hundred and sixty or seventy li away, with no sizable settlements in between. Reaching the boundary of the two prefectures, Li Shimin had been struck by a passing impulse, recalling that Taiping Pass was not far, and ordered the camp set up below the pass.

“Possessing all under heaven as I do — yet in the depths of the night, I find myself transported back to those days of iron cavalry and autumn winds!” Li Shimin said with feeling. “Ministers, look — this Taiping Pass still bears traces of my earlier days!”

Pei Ji smiled. “Does Your Majesty refer to the day you captured Taiping Pass and broke through Dragon Gate Ford to enter the heartland?”

Pei Ji was fifty-nine years old this year, with a prosperous, genial face and an ever-present smile. He was the first Chancellor of the Tang dynasty and, though the position had changed hands several times, it kept returning to him — for a simple reason. The new Tang was desperately short of money, grain, warhorses, and cloth — short of everything — and Pei Ji’s greatest talent was financial management. From the Wude era to the Zhenguan era, he had administered the not-especially-prosperous national coffers and kept them running in good order. Li Yuan and he had been childhood companions, inseparable. After Li Shimin came to the throne, he had given Chang Sun Wuji a turn as Chancellor but soon discovered that no one in the entire court could match Pei Ji when it came to managing money and supplies, so he had promoted him back to the position.

“Indeed!” Li Shimin laughed, pointing to a gap in the wall not far off. “Do you remember? That gap is where I ordered the catapults to batter through the wall, and then I was the first to leap through into the city. Oh — Wuji, the one right behind me was you, wasn’t it?”

Chang Sun Wuji was Li Shimin’s brother-in-law, two years his senior, and the two had grown up together since childhood, deeply attached. He smiled. “I was third — Liu Hongji was right behind you.”

Li Shimin blanked for a moment, then pointed at him and broke into laughter. “Wuji, I honestly can’t tell whether you’re being artless or clever — playing that game with me.”

The ministers all understood immediately, and their hearts tensed. The old monk creased his brow slightly but said nothing.

Liu Hongji was one of Li Shimin’s most loyal and beloved generals. When Li Shimin was still the second son of the Taiyuan Garrison Commander, he and Liu Hongji were so close they “rode side by side when going out and shared the same bed when coming in.” In the first year of Zhenguan, immediately after Li Shimin ascended the throne, the Prince of Yian, Li Xiaochanglue had rebelled. Liu Hongji had been on close terms with Li Xiaochang, became entangled in the affair, and Li Shimin — after swiftly suppressing Li Xiaochang — was nevertheless furious with Liu Hongji and stripped him of his rank and title.

“Your Majesty,” Wei Zheng said suddenly with a solemn expression, “the reign title of our dynasty is Zhenguan — and what does Zhenguan mean? Heaven and earth perpetually display their patterns to guide mankind — hence, Zhenguan: ‘correct observation.’ In the three years since Your Majesty’s enthronement, it is only natural to purify all under heaven and exalt the righteous path. From the seventh year of Daye to the present — seventeen years of chaos — the great furnace of heaven and earth has smelted and discarded so many heroes and talents. Some are undeniably without excuse; others were simply overtaken by circumstance. Your Majesty has adopted the reign name Zhenguan to open wide the ears of sage governance and reassess the merits and faults of men. I submit that Liu Hongji’s stripping of titles was not due to the magnitude of his crime, but because Your Majesty cared for him so deeply that resentment came in equal measure. To govern the realm without relying on the law, but being consumed instead by personal feelings — is this fitting?”

Li Shimin was silenced.

Liu Hongji had not, in truth, committed any great crime. It was simply that Li Shimin felt a sense of grievance toward him — they were so close, yet you went and cultivated private ties with that rebel Li Xiaochang — and in a moment of rage, he had dealt with Liu Hongji. But now that Wei Zheng had made his point, recalling Liu Hongji’s many qualities, Li Shimin let out a quiet sigh and waved his hand. “Xuancheng is right. Let Hongji’s rank and position be restored.” He gently stroked the city wall. “When I see this wall, I am transported back to fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the Grand Emperor, crossing Dragon Gate together — those people, those events, pass before my eyes like figures in a lantern. Indeed, as Xuancheng said: Zhenguan is the purification of all under heaven, the exaltation of the righteous path. Very well — after returning to the capital, let us re-examine the charges against those ministers and officials who ran afoul of the law, making every effort to ensure that merit is not obscured. In particular, those soldiers who rendered service to our Great Tang — it would be best to leave them an honorable name for posterity.”

“Your Majesty’s benevolence is boundless.” Chang Sun Wuji and Wei Zheng bowed together.

Pei Ji’s heart gave a sudden lurch. Before he could quite make sense of it, Li Shimin smiled at him. “Pei Minister, I recall that you were not with me on the Dragon Gate line that day, am I right?”

“That is so.” Pei Ji said helplessly. “I was with Liu Wenjing, besieging Puzhou City to pin down Qu Tu Tong. It was precisely because Puzhou’s walls were too solid and could not be taken that Your Majesty devised the strategy of dividing forces, joining the Grand Emperor in crossing the Yellow River at Dragon Gate and entering Chang’an.”

At the sound of the name “Liu Wenjing,” Du Ruhui, Chang Sun Wuji, and Wei Zheng all fell silent.

Li Shimin nodded thoughtfully. “Liu Wenjing… how many years since I’ve heard that name? This man’s service was beyond measure, and his offenses are equally difficult to excuse. After we return… let that also be discussed.”

In an instant all color drained from Pei Ji’s face. In a flash the mountains and rivers before him lost their hues, and one thought turned over and over in his mind: Your Majesty… how ruthless. The business of Liu Hongji was only the lead-in to this… He finally means to move against me…

The ministers regarded him with various expressions — some pitying, some mocking — and none spoke. Pei Ji cast a beseeching glance at the old monk. The old monk’s expression remained unchanged; the corners of his mouth seemed to carry a faint smile.

Liu Wenjing was the deepest thorn embedded in Pei Ji’s heart — so it had been in Liu Wenjing’s lifetime, and so it was even more so after his death. When Li Yuan was Taiyuan Garrison Commander, Liu Wenjing was the county magistrate of Jinyang and had been on the closest terms with Pei Ji — the two of them had jointly devised the great scheme of Li Yuan’s rebellion against the Sui. The difference between them was that Liu Wenjing was Li Shimin’s most devoted partisan, while Pei Ji was Li Yuan’s childhood companion.

After Li Yuan became emperor and meritorious service was tallied, Pei Ji was ranked first and Liu Wenjing second. Liu Wenjing was a man of surpassingly brilliant talent, but he was not broad-minded, and he deeply resented Pei Ji’s rank being above his own. In every court discussion, if Pei Ji was for something, he was against it; if Pei Ji was against something, he was unfailingly for it. The rift between them deepened until, on one occasion, Liu Wenjing was drinking with his younger brother Liu Wenqi; both drunk, he drew a sword and struck a pillar, shouting, “I’ll have Pei Ji’s head yet!”

At this, Pei Ji knew: between the two of them, it would end only in death. At that time, Liu Wenqi’s household was plagued by disturbances believed to be supernatural; Liu Wenqi summoned a shaman who, at night, with hair disheveled and a sword between his teeth, performed rituals to drive out the evil. Pei Ji then bribed the brother of one of Liu Wenjing’s neglected concubines to submit a formal accusation that Liu Wenjing was harboring assassins and plotting rebellion.

Li Yuan ordered an interrogation. Liu Wenjing, entirely unruffled, actually said, “At the time of the uprising I held the position of Marshal; now Pei Ji has risen to Vice-Chancellor. My titles and rewards are no different from those of anyone else. Having campaigned east and west with my family left behind unprotected — I do indeed harbor discontent.”

Li Yuan was furious. “This statement by Liu Wenjing,” he declared, “clearly reveals a rebellious heart.”

At the time, the consensus among court officials was that Liu Wenjing was merely venting grievances, and Li Shimin also spoke forcefully in his defense. In the end, Pei Ji delivered one sentence: “Liu Wenjing’s talent and resourcefulness are indeed superior to all others’, but by nature he is suspicious and treacherous, reckless when angered, and his malicious words and wayward conduct have already shown themselves. The realm is not yet settled, powerful enemies remain without, and if he is pardoned today, he will surely become a problem in the future.”

Li Yuan thereupon made up his mind and executed both Liu Wenjing and Liu Wenqi.

This was the greatest thorn in Pei Ji’s heart. He knew that Li Yuan had executed Liu Wenjing as a favor to him, and that the court’s officials were far from satisfied — especially Li Shimin. When Li Shimin was the Prince of Qin, Pei Ji had had no reason to worry about him. But now this second prince of the Li family was the emperor…

If he intended to rehabilitate Liu Wenjing, where would that leave Pei Ji?

The chill on Pei Ji’s body deepened, penetrating muscle and bone, leaving him completely cold.

While he was still in this daze, Li Shimin had already descended from the wall and, under Yuchi Jingde’s protection, was walking slowly back toward the main camp. The desolate mountain wilderness, the cold moon illuminating dark peaks, the cry of wild beasts echoing from the distant mountains, wind blowing through the long grass with a rustling sound.

The great camp in the distance gradually grew quiet. After a day’s labors, soldiers and the various camp followers had mostly retired early. Only the relief guard patrols moved in neat formation at the camp gate, crossing one another’s paths, their iron-plated armor ringing out.

Pei Ji followed behind, caught up in a few steps to that old monk, and said in a low voice, “Master Fa Ya, you must help save this old man’s life!”

The old monk was none other than Kong Cheng’s teacher, Fa Ya. Fa Ya smiled. “At this moment, my lord, did you not see all this coming from the very instant of the Xuanwu Gate coup? Since the grand plan was set, why be seized by panic now that the moment is upon us?”

Pei Ji wiped the perspiration from his forehead and said quietly, “Whether this plan can succeed is still in doubt. And even if it does — can it save my life?”

Fa Ya said mildly, “This contest has entered its end game. There is no longer anyone in the world capable of breaking it. This old monk guarantees that my lord will not die.”

Only then did Pei Ji feel some measure of calm, and the breeze blowing over him made him realize that his chest and back were soaked completely through.

Just then, the Li Shimin walking ahead gave a start and pointed to the eastern sky. “Ministers — what is that?”

Everyone looked up in astonishment. There in the dark sky, with the cold moon slanting across it, the mountains crouching below — two lamp-like objects were drifting slowly across the half-darkness, looking for all the world like moving stars!

“Could those be meteors?” Chang Sun Wuji said.

“They couldn’t be.” Du Ruhui shook his head. “Meteors vanish in an instant — nothing like this speed. Perhaps they are sky lanterns released somewhere by ordinary people?”

Li Shimin laughed. “It’s not New Year’s Eve or the Lantern Festival — why would anyone be releasing sky lanterns? Come, let’s have a look.”

Everyone together craned their necks to watch. Those two drifting lights appeared to be quite far, yet they floated and soared on the wind, coming directly toward where everyone was standing. As they drew near, everyone’s scalps prickled and their hair stood on end — these were no lanterns. They were clearly two people!

“Protect His Majesty!” Yuchi Jingde bellowed, snatching his steel mace from his back. The Imperial Guards surged from both sides, surrounding everyone three layers deep: the first rank holding broad swords, the second cranking crossbows with horizontal stirrups, the third wielding composite longbows with steel-tipped war arrows fitted to the strings. The guards accompanying the imperial procession were drawn primarily from the elite cavalry guards, supplemented by Yuchi Jingde’s handpicked men from the other fifteen guard units — the finest soldiers in the world. In the space of a few breaths a complete, airtight defensive formation was established.

“Hold — let’s watch a moment.” Li Shimin, who had weathered storms far greater than this, was supremely composed and waved a hand to stop Yuchi Jingde.

By now the two figures moving through the sky were less than a li away. They were deeply strange — robes and hems billowing gently, their bearing entirely unhurried, walking at leisure through the air as though strolling — though for some reason they were both encased in what appeared to be a flame-like radiance. The two took no notice whatsoever of the army arrayed in battle formation below, drifting forward serenely. In the blink of an eye they were within a hundred fathoms — well within bowshot — and everyone could see them with ever-greater clarity. All were seized with dread.

These two strange figures were deeply unnatural. Their faces were hidden behind fearsome demon masks, and at the openings for the eyes and mouth were hollow voids from which pale fire burned. As they looked down at the crowd below, they seemed almost to be grinning.

“What manner of demon dares disturb the imperial procession?” Without waiting for Li Shimin’s command, Yuchi Jingde roared, “Loose!”

Three hundred crossbows twanged simultaneously. Three hundred bolts shrieked through the air like a sudden downpour. These crossbows had a range of three hundred paces and tremendous penetrating power; the humming of the volley deafened all present, and the dense rain of bolts swallowed the two figures whole.

Thuds and impacts sounded. By visual estimate, at least thirty bolts had pierced the bodies of the two figures. Both shapes lurched and spiraled briefly in midair — and just as everyone expected them to come crashing down, they came sauntering forward once more, bold as ever.

Now all present were shaken to the core. These two had at least seventeen or eighteen crossbow bolts in their bodies. Any other person would have died seventeen or eighteen times over — yet they showed not the faintest reaction.

Li Shimin was shaken too. He turned to those around him. “Ministers — what in the world is happening? How can there be people in this world who cannot be shot dead?”

“Loose again!” Yuchi Jingde, the iron-blooded general, refused to believe it. The longbowmen released their strings; heavy steel-tipped arrows thudded out, riddling the two figures with holes, yet the two remained silent, riding the wind forward.

“General Guo — stop!” Fa Ya urgently restrained Yuchi Jingde and said quietly to Li Shimin, “Your Majesty, I believe these two demon-things in the sky are not human beings!”

“Not human beings?” Li Shimin froze.

Though in this era, almost everyone except eccentric figures like the Grand Astrologer Fu Yi believed in gods, demons, and spirits — and many among those present had even encountered supernatural disturbances in their own households — not one of them had ever actually seen a demon in person.

Fa Ya smiled wryly. “This old monk cannot say clearly either — I only sense that these two figures carry the aura of ghosts, something not of the human world.”

Li Shimin and the others were at a loss; they thought privately that there was no need to say that — if it were of the human world, it would have been shot dead by now. But Fa Ya had followed the Li family from the time Li Yuan was Taiyuan Garrison Commander, loyal and steadfast. The old monk was a man of deep resourcefulness who had an almost universal command of knowledge. Li Shimin trusted him considerably, and immediately asked, “Master, since they are demons, is there a means to drive them away?”

“There is.” Fa Ya said. “So long as something circulates through the three realms of rebirth, be it ghost or god, this poor monk has a way to subdue it.”

“Then we impose upon the Master!” Li Shimin was overjoyed.

“By your command.”

Fa Ya was just about to speak when the two demon-things in the sky suddenly broke into loud laughter and called out, “Great Tang Son of Heaven — we come from the realm of the dead to pay our respects! And the welcome that greets us is bows and crossbows?”

At these words, the two demon-things drifted slowly down to the ground. They stood over six feet tall, swathed in black robes, their faces covered by ferocious masks, their eye sockets and mouths venting wisps of pale radiance. Standing in that wilderness under the broad moon, they looked all the more spectral and terrifying. The dozens of arrow shafts still protruding from their bodies only added to their uncanniness.

The Imperial Guards surged forward, shepherding Li Shimin back fifty fathoms, where they held their formation.

Li Shimin frowned, waved the soldiers aside to clear a path, and then stepped forward under his ministers’ protection, pressing his fists together in courtesy. “How do you two address yourselves? What do you mean by coming from the realm of the dead to see me?”

“Ha ha,” one of the demon-things said. “We have no names. We are spirit soldiers under the command of the Yan Mouluo, King of the Ni Li Underworld Purgatory. By the Yan Mouluo’s command, we have come to inform the Great Tang Son of Heaven that there is a lawsuit pending in Ni Li Purgatory. We respectfully ask that Your Majesty appear in Ni Li Purgatory before the fifteenth of the fourth month to respond to the charges.”

“Ni Li Purgatory? The Yan Mouluo?” Li Shimin was bewildered and looked to Fa Ya.

Fa Ya naturally knew, and gave a low explanation of the origins of Ni Li Purgatory and the Yan Mouluo. Everyone was shaken, and Chang Sun Wuji cried out in anger, “How brazen, you spirit soldiers! Even if your Yan Mouluo rules the underworld, our Great Tang Son of Heaven is the supreme lord of the human world — how is he subject to your jurisdiction?”

The spirit soldier laughed coldly. “May I ask Lord Chang Sun — is there anyone who does not die?”

Chang Sun Wuji was silenced.

“So long as a being moves through the six paths of rebirth — be it born from the womb, from an egg, from moisture, or from spontaneous transformation — from the great phoenix and heavenly dragon down to the smallest insect — unless it has attained the fruit of arhatship, after death it must enter Ni Li Purgatory to be judged by the Book of Life and Death across the six paths, and thereafter proceed to its proper destination in the cycle of rebirth. The Great Tang Son of Heaven is supreme lord of the human world, yet he too has not transcended birth, old age, illness, and death — how is he beyond our king’s jurisdiction?” the spirit soldier said coldly.

Li Shimin’s vision blurred repeatedly. The scene felt impossibly strange — as though he were in a dream. He raised a hand to stop Chang Sun Wuji and asked, “As you say, there is a lawsuit in Ni Li Purgatory for which I must appear and make my defense. What lawsuit is this?”

“There are those called the late Crown Prince Jiancheng and the late Prince of Qi, Yuanji, whose allotted years were exhausted in the ninth year of Wude, and who died and entered Ni Li Purgatory. The Yan Mouluo was on the verge of ordering their return to the cycle of rebirth when both refused the judgment, saying they had died at the hands of another, with earthly grievances unresolved, and filed a complaint accusing you before the Yan Mouluo’s court. Therefore the Yan Mouluo has commanded the two of us to summon the Great Tang Son of Heaven, and asks most earnestly that you appear in Ni Li Purgatory before the fifteenth of the fourth month to respond to the charges.”

The moment those words fell, the crowd erupted in commotion.

Li Jiancheng! Li Yuanji! Those two names were unquestionably forbidden in the Zhenguan court. Li Shimin had killed Li Jiancheng with his own bow; Li Yuanji had been killed by Yuchi Jingde. Li Jiancheng’s six sons — the eldest having died in childhood — all five remaining sons had been executed by Li Shimin, and Li Yuanji’s five sons were likewise killed at the same time. The male lines of both families had been wiped out to the last. This meant Li Shimin had the blood of his own full brothers on his hands. Li Shimin himself understood this very well, and so did the ministers under him: whatever greatness this ruler might achieve in the future, however prosperous a realm he might govern, at the juncture of human ethics and natural order, he would face forever — from within himself, from others, and from the judgment of history — an unending reckoning.

If Liu Wenjing was the deepest thorn lodged in Pei Ji’s heart, then Jiancheng and Yuanji were the eternal thorn in Li Shimin’s — buried in his lungs, his marrow, in a thousand years of history yet to be written.

In this moment, everyone was thunderstruck — emperor, ministers, generals, soldiers — not one dared to speak, not one knew what to say. Every body trembled. Thick, suffocating dread rose from the depths of every heart. They wished they had never come to this place, never heard these words. They would have gladly cut off their own ears.

“Outrageous—” Yuchi Jingde was in a violent fury, his steel mace in hand and about to charge forward and batter those two spirit soldiers to pieces.

“General Guo — no!” Fa Ya urgently pulled him back, and said quietly, “Let this old monk use the Buddha’s teaching to subdue them. You must not go forward.”

Yuchi Jingde collected himself. These two demon-things hadn’t flinched from crossbow bolts — would they fear his steel mace?

“Master, take care.” He lowered his voice in warning.

“No matter.” Fa Ya shook out his kasaya, strode forward into the open wilderness, and sat cross-legged on the ground. Both palms pressed together, he began to murmur incantations, then suddenly gave a great shout: “Human world and underworld walk separate paths! Petty demons — be gone!” He threw out: “Away—”

His arm swept outward. A bolt of golden light flashed. Both demon-things instantly burst into flame; their towering forms struggled briefly in the fire, letting out eerie hissing shrieks, then with a boom the flames scattered, and the two demon-things vanished without a trace.

Yuchi Jingde personally carried his steel mace over to investigate. On the ground lay a heap of paper ash, scattered sparks still burning. He prodded it with the mace, and on a half-surviving scrap of paper, a few words were visible: …For example, all the grass, trees, groves, rice-hemp stalks, bamboo thickets, mountains, stones, and dust-motes of the three-thousand great-thousand worlds — count each thing as one river; take each grain of sand from each river as one world; within each world, one dust-mote as one kalpa; within each kalpa, count all accumulated dust as kalpas…

“Your Majesty…” He turned back — and found Li Shimin staring blankly at the dying embers on the ground, looking as if he had been turned to stone.

The next morning at the chen hour, the procession broke camp and set off. The journey was unspeakably gloomy. Every man and woman in it trembled with unease beneath Li Shimin’s silence. Seven or eight thousand people — and apart from the clop of hooves, the tramp of feet, and the groan of cart wheels, not a single person dared raise their voice.

The roads of Hedong were rugged and difficult, carved through the gorge of the Fen River valley, with the distant Fen roaring and crashing as though it were sweeping away the crowd’s anxiety. Jinzhou City lay ahead, a mere few dozen li — yet it was not until dusk that the procession at last reached the outskirts.

Jinzhou Prefect Zhao Yuankai had long since led the city’s elders out thirty li to wait in welcome. Zhao Yuankai was Pei Ji’s son-in-law, and knowing that his father-in-law’s days were difficult, he had seized on the emperor’s visit, determined to give His Majesty a grand surprise and in one stroke turn the imperial impression of both son-in-law and father-in-law around.

The imperial carriage rolled slowly forward. Li Shimin was sitting inside, lost in thought with Chang Sun Wuji for company, when he suddenly heard a tremendous rolling shout: “Ten thousand years to the Emperor — ten thousand, ten thousand, ten thousand years!”

Li Shimin started, ordered a eunuch to pull back the curtain, and was immediately taken aback. Kneeling on both sides of the road was a crowd of white-haired… people in yellow — over four or five hundred of them. He looked more carefully and realized they were all elderly men and women well past sixty or seventy years of age, dressed in yellow gauze single robes, kneeling and trembling — though whether from failing strength or the chill evening wind he could not tell.

“What is the meaning of this?” Li Shimin asked.

A eunuch went to inquire and returned shortly. A civil official of about forty years, dressed in a scarlet official robe with a silver fish-pouch at his waist, came hurrying to the side of the imperial carriage and knelt. “Your subject, Jinzhou Prefect Zhao Yuankai, pays his respects to the Emperor.”

“Ah, so it is Minister Zhao — rise!” Li Shimin knew him as Pei Ji’s son-in-law, to whose second daughter Pei Ji had married him. “I ask you — why are there so many elderly people kneeling by the road?”

Zhao Yuankai’s face was all smiles. “These are the elders of Jinzhou City. Hearing that Your Majesty is conducting an inspection of the Hedong Circuit, they all wished to catch a glimpse of the imperial visage. Your subject took it upon himself to make arrangements — dressing them uniformly in yellow gauze robes to welcome Your Majesty along the roadside.”

Li Shimin was immediately annoyed. With a belly full of frustration and nowhere to put it, he struck the carriage rim with a heavy blow and shouted, “You serve as Prefect, standing in for me as shepherd of this locality. In ordinary times you ought to be performing acts of respect and care for the aged. But look at these people — not a single one of them is under seventy or eighty years old! They are all old enough to be my own father! You made them walk thirty li and kneel in the mud for half a day just to welcome me?”

Zhao Yuankai was dumbfounded. He fell to his knees, repeatedly kowtowing.

Li Shimin grew more heated as he spoke. “Where is your own father? Where is your own father? Has he come to kneel and welcome me? Could you bear to make him walk thirty li and kneel for an entire day? Love your own elders, and extend that love to the elders of others — where have all the years of poetry and scholarship gone in you?”

Zhao Yuankai dissolved in tears and sobbing prostrations.

Li Shimin was about to continue, but Chang Sun Wuji quickly interposed, “Your Majesty, Zhao Yuankai acted without malicious intent. A light reprimand is sufficient; too severe a rebuke might make Lord Pei and the late Lord Zhao lose face.”

Li Shimin bit back his anger with a grunt. “This Zhao Yuankai — how capable he once was! And his wife, too, was a woman of honor and courage. How has he sunk to this level of muddle-headedness?”

Chang Sun Wuji said nothing. Zhao Yuankai was indeed something of a figure in the early Tang court. Of noble family — his father had served as a Vice-Chancellor under the Sui — he had in his early years married a daughter of the Cui family, the premier noble clan of Hedong. The Cui family were strict observers of propriety; Zhao Yuankai was deeply respectful of his Cui wife, and even at home at a banquet he would not allow himself to speak or smile carelessly — in every movement, every halt, every article of dress, he observed proper decorum.

Then came the chaos at the Sui’s end. When the rebel Yuwen Huaji rose against the dynasty, Zhao Yuankai had tried to flee back to Chang’an, but on the road he encountered bandits. Lady Cui was seized. The bandit leader intended to take her as a concubine; she refused. The bandit tore her clothing and bound her to the bed, about to force himself upon her. Lady Cui pretended to agree and had him release her. After dressing herself, she took the bandit’s own sword and declared, “If you wish to kill me, knives and saws are welcome. If you push me any further, come and try!” The enraged bandit had her shot dead with a volley of arrows. Zhao Yuankai later captured the bandit chief who had killed his wife and personally dismembered him as a sacrifice before Lady Cui’s spirit tablet.

Hearing of this, Pei Ji was moved by Lady Cui’s fidelity and honor and by Zhao Yuankai’s devoted love, and gave him his second daughter in marriage.

Li Shimin had no particular intention of making an issue of this with Zhao Yuankai. He waved him off and ordered carriages sent to take the elders home properly.

The imperial carriage rolled on. At the city gate, Li Shimin was met with another shock: the gate tower was festooned with red and yellow silk, dressed out in brilliant colors stretching for two li.

Li Shimin swallowed his displeasure and entered the city. Zhao Yuankai had already mobilized two wealthy households in the city to vacate their residences, and the two properties combined, with several hundred rooms in all, barely sufficed for the emperor’s accommodation. That was tolerable enough — but as Li Shimin made his way through, everywhere he turned he caught the smell of fresh paint; hundreds of rooms had been redone from top to bottom in all their splendor.

Li Shimin was annoyed again. “Where is Zhao Yuankai?”

The eunuch went out to ask and returned with an answer: “Your Majesty — Prefect Zhao has been raising several hundred sheep and several thousand fish. He is presently going door to door distributing them to the imperial relatives.”

Li Shimin’s anger boiled over. He slammed his teacup down with a bang and shouted, “Bring him to me!”

At this point Pei Ji had just settled into his quarters when a eunuch with close connections to him in Li Shimin’s inner circle immediately sent word over. Pei Ji broke out in a cold sweat at once, grabbed hold of Fa Ya, and ran toward the main residence where Li Shimin was staying. Along the way, Prefect Zhao came trotting toward them; upon seeing Pei Ji, he bent at once in a deep bow. “Yuankai greets his father-in-law.”

“Forget it, forget it.” Pei Ji was sweating heavily. He said in a low voice, “What were you doing? Why make all this such an extravagant affair?”

Zhao Yuankai wore a look of grievance. “Father-in-law, I have committed no impropriety! Every ceremony and arrangement follows the regulations of the former dynasty. How can an imperial inspection proceed without proper ceremony?”

“You…” Pei Ji looked to the sky and sighed, full of unsaid bitterness.

The group reached the main hall. Li Shimin was still furious, and the moment he laid eyes on Zhao Yuankai, his anger had nowhere else to go. “Zhao Yuankai — I ask you: what did my proclamation say one month ago, when it was sent to all of Hedong Circuit?”

“Your Majesty’s proclamation ordered that local governments prepare for the imperial reception, with every matter conducted in a spirit of simplicity, without extravagance, and above all without troubling the populace.” Zhao Yuankai replied with an air of righteousness.

“And what did you do?” Li Shimin’s anger was reaching its peak.

“I have not exceeded proper rites.” Zhao Yuankai said. “As this is the first inspection of Hedong Circuit by either of our dynasty’s first two emperors, there is no established precedent. I had no choice but to take the former dynasty as my guide for all arrangements. Your Majesty ordered that the populace not be disturbed — I have not dared to cause any significant alarm to the local area. In all things, simplicity is my standard.”

“The former dynasty…” Li Shimin’s nose was practically bent sideways with anger. “You are comparing me to Emperor Yang of the Sui? Emperor Yang’s southern tours had millions of conscripted laborers digging canals — are you planning to dig a canal through these mountains for me to sail my dragon barge up? Emperor Yang showed no mercy to the common people’s strength, and it brought chaos across the realm — do you want to exhaust the people and squander their wealth so that all of Great Tang’s common folk spit in my face?”

Zhao Yuankai was immediately terrified out of his wits, prostrating himself at once. “Your subject harbors no such thought whatsoever!”

Pei Ji was sweating from head to foot, and precisely because it was his own son-in-law at issue, he was not well positioned to argue — so he desperately signaled with his eyes to Chang Sun Wuji. Chang Sun Wuji sighed. “Your Majesty — this matter is not entirely Prefect Zhao’s fault. Neither the Grand Emperor nor Your Majesty has ever visited Hedong before; in particular, Your Majesty has not left the capital region on an inspection tour in the three years since your enthronement. Local officials simply have no experience of receiving the imperial procession. Prefect Zhao is a man of integrity, and though he is somewhat rigid about the forms of propriety, he would not dare to exhaust the people’s wealth.”

Li Shimin was still huffy, and pointed at Zhao Yuankai: “When I traveled through Heluo, passing through several prefectures, all necessary supplies were drawn from official resources — not so much as a single coin was taken from ordinary people. I’ll say nothing of having the elder population suffer in the cold for no reason — where did the sheep and fish you raised come from? Obviously they were requisitioned from common people’s households. The money spent redecoration of the courtyards and rooms — where did it come from? Either state funds or extorted from the common people. Where did the silk and cloth and labor for decorating the city gate come from? You must submit regulated taxes to your superiors — would you dare withhold from them? That means you re-collected them from the people. This is the corrupt practice of the fallen Sui — how can our dynasty continue it?”

Zhao Yuankai, thoroughly mortified, knocked his head repeatedly: “Your subject… understands Your Majesty’s intent.”

Li Shimin thereupon made his ruling: stripping Zhao Yuankai of the Jinzhou Prefect position, ordering the government office to compensate at the original price everything requisitioned from the common people, and simultaneously ordering Du Ruhui to send a dispatch to all prefectures and counties along the route, citing this as a warning example.

Li Shimin spent two days in Jinzhou, surveying the conditions of the surrounding populace, and was fairly satisfied — he could see that this Zhao Yuankai was not a man of wholesale incompetence. His anger somewhat relieved by this, on the day of his departure from Jinzhou he specifically invited both Pei Ji and Chang Sun Wuji to share his imperial carriage.

Pei Ji was overwhelmed with gratitude and repeatedly declined the honor — this was treatment not afforded to any ordinary person. Even the two intimate and trusted ministers Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui were only invited to ride together when there was specific business to discuss. Day to day, only Chang Sun Wuji enjoyed this privilege.

Li Shimin ordered Chang Sun Wuji to help Pei Ji in, and smiled. “Minister Pei was the foremost senior official of the Wude era. Wuji is also completely loyal to me. For a seat of honor on the imperial carriage, apart from the two of you, who else would be worthy?”

Pei Ji’s sweat started again, this time even more acute than the terror at Taiping Pass. Li Shimin’s words, read on the surface, were generous praise — but the subtext Pei Ji heard with perfect clarity: “You were the Grand Emperor’s man. Wuji is my man.”

“Alas, I dealt with Yuankai this time — Minister Pei, please don’t take it to heart.” Li Shimin sighed. “Our dynasty was founded in difficult circumstances, its foundations not yet deep, the people’s lives still meager. If local officials fail to care for the people’s strength, collapse is not far away.”

“Your Majesty acted rightly — how could I have the slightest grievance?” Pei Ji said carefully. “In these years I have come to understand deeply how hard-pressed our dynasty truly is. In grain alone — if not for the great granaries left behind by the former Sui, purely on the land rents collected by the prefectures and counties, we would be utterly in the red. The common people’s capacity is like a volcanic fire — once pressed too far, a dynasty as powerful as the former Sui can collapse in a single morning. That precedent is before us — how could I dare do anything but exert the utmost caution?”

“Well spoken, Minister Pei!” Li Shimin always admired Pei Ji’s abilities. In his view, the Chancellor’s position did not demand supreme competence so much as the ability to coordinate all parties at court and knit everyone into a unified force — and in this, Pei Ji’s abilities were truly exceptional. “Yuankai, though diligent and loyal, is somewhat rigid in his adherence to old ways, too steeped in the official style of the former Sui. My relieving him of his post is meant to give him a chance for serious reflection. I have already issued an order for Puzhou Prefect Du Chuke to come and take up the Jinzhou post.”

“I will give him strict instruction.” Pei Ji nodded. He knew this son-in-law’s flaws himself — slightly bookish, not skilled at gauging what superiors expected, and this time had managed to flatter the horse directly on its hoof. But as long as he himself did not fall, the man could be rehabilitated. Being relieved of a post for now was no great catastrophe.

“Oh — Minister Pei, Yuankai is the husband of your second daughter, is he not?” Li Shimin asked. “How many daughters do you have?”

Pei Ji’s heart sank. He forced a smile. “Your subject has three daughters. The second is married to Yuankai.”

“And the eldest?” Li Shimin smiled.

“The eldest is married to the third son of Duan Zhixuan.” Pei Ji answered.

Duan Zhixuan was one of Li Shimin’s most loyal and devoted generals, a participant in the Xuanwu Gate coup, enfeoffed in the first year of Zhenguan as Left Spirited Cavalry Grand General and Duke of Fan. His discipline of troops was strict; Li Shimin had praised him as equal to Zhou Yafu himself. Would Li Shimin not know that his own daughter had been married to Duan Zhixuan’s son? A flash of foreboding passed through Pei Ji’s heart.

Li Shimin nodded. “And the third daughter?”

“Ah…” Pei Ji’s face immediately went red, and he could not find words.

“Your Majesty,” Chang Sun Wuji said quietly, “Lady Pei the third went missing four years ago.”

“Oh?” Li Shimin raised an eyebrow. “Gone missing? Did something untoward happen?”

Pei Ji had no recourse. He also knew that Li Shimin could not possibly be unaware of this, so he lowered his voice and said, “Your subject’s third daughter… In the ninth year of Wude, was lured by a monk, and eloped with him… Your subject sent people to investigate, but… on account of the embarrassment, it was not something to speak of openly.”

Li Shimin was taken aback, then burst out in sudden anger. “What manner of wayward monk is this — flouting monastic discipline and actually seducing an official’s daughter?”

Pei Ji was sweating profusely, his old face scarlet with humiliation. “Your subject does not know his Buddhist name. That day a rite was being performed in your subject’s household, and monks from Zhuangyan Temple had been invited — this monk mingled in among them, and somehow… Ah.”

His lips trembled, and he said no more. Li Shimin nodded with understanding and did not press further.

Pei Ji kept on his face an expression of shame and anger. In his heart, though, he felt as if a drum mallet were pounding frantically inside him, and one thought turned over and over: He knows… He knows… Chang Jie, Chang Jie — if the entire grand plan is ruined because of you, this old man swears he will cut you to pieces.