“Your fellow disciple Tang Jianxi told me that after Empress Xiaoxian died, the Late Emperor began killing people. What kind of people did he kill?”

Yan Sanhe stood with hands behind her back.

“In your eyes, he killed meritorious officials and capable generals, chilling the hearts of the world; in his eyes, he killed those who posed a threat to the kingdom and state, those whose achievements overshadowed their master.

For whom did he kill?

For himself, and also for the sons and grandsons of the Zhao Family. He wanted the Zhao Family’s kingdom to be passed down generation after generation.

You, as Crown Prince, not only failed to understand his painstaking efforts, to stand at his side and advance and retreat together with him, but instead believed your teacher’s words—that you should appropriately remonstrate from the sidelines.

Your every word and deed were indeed benevolent and filial.

But this bit of benevolence and filial piety, compared to your Zhao Family’s kingdom, wasn’t even enough to fill the gaps between teeth.

Your teacher taught you that being true to your own conscience was sufficient.

What is conscience? Can it be eaten or sold? Can someone with conscience sit firmly on the kingdom’s throne?”

Yan Sanhe sneered coldly.

“Truly conscientious people can’t even reach that high position!”

The crow’s pitch-black eyes trembled slightly, the light in its pupils fading infinitesimally, while deeply hidden sorrow gradually emerged, bit by bit.

Yan Sanhe’s hands at her sides clenched tightly.

“The two words ‘benevolence’ and ‘filial piety’ aren’t wrong—it depends on whom they’re applied to. Was the Late Emperor a benevolent and filial person? Clearly not.

With your benevolence and filial piety, you won the love of the officials, while he became the tyrant of ‘when birds are gone, good bows are stored away’;

You acted for everyone, he acted for the Zhao Family’s small family; you used your goodness wanting to compensate for his evil.

But you forgot one point—he is sovereign, you are subject; he is father, you are son. A son doesn’t speak of his father’s faults, a subject doesn’t speak of his sovereign’s faults. This was a naked challenge to his authority.

In the way of being human, there’s goodness and filial piety.

In the way of being sovereign: those who follow him prosper, those who oppose him perish.

Your remonstrations, subtle and understated, went against him; thus your position in his heart naturally and imperceptibly declined.

In this round, you appeared to win but actually lost.”

Yan Sanhe paused briefly, then continued slowly:

“In this matter, there was an even more fatal point. Do you know what it was? It was age.

The Late Emperor grew old.

A person’s aging is something no one can prevent, yet you were in your prime, spirited and vigorous.

If you were ordinary father and son, the old father would merely sigh: My son has grown!

But in the imperial family, aging means the transfer and loss of power, and also means that you, this Crown Prince, even doing nothing, appeared in his eyes to harbor disloyal intentions.

What is power?

It’s having one’s word carry the weight of nine bronze tripods, it’s the power of life and death, it’s wealth, it’s women, it’s reverence, it’s this empire of ten thousand li and nine provinces.

Could a ruthless person like the Late Emperor, who struggled so hard to achieve his day of ruling the world, willingly hand it over?

Never.

He wouldn’t yield a single thread, even if that person was his own legitimate son.

The sovereign’s heart is like the sea—it cannot contain even a leaf-sized boat. So his making things difficult for you was inevitable; your dilemma was also inevitable.

Actually, this wasn’t a bad thing.

The Late Emperor’s wariness, difficulties, and suppression were, for you who had traveled smoothly all your life, excellent tempering and forging. So after the Tang Qiling case, you were forced to mature overnight.

But it wasn’t enough—far from enough.”

The crow’s wings fluttered lightly, interrupting Yan Sanhe’s words.

Yan Sanhe looked into the crow’s pupils and discovered that the sorrow in its black pupils was growing thicker and thicker, its beak slightly open, as if wanting to dispute something.

What more was there to dispute?

She was quiet for a while, then continued:

“There are two identical stones. One became a paving stone on a bridge, trampled by people; one became a Buddha statue, worshipped by ten thousand.

The paving stone was indignant and asked the Buddha statue: Why can you be elevated and revered?

The Buddha statue said: See how many strikes you were carved with, then look at how many strikes I was carved with. If even one fewer carving had been made, I couldn’t have become a Buddha statue.”

Yan Sanhe looked at the crow.

“But you—from childhood to adulthood, everything was too smooth. Whatever you wanted, you could obtain. You didn’t need to fight or seize—people would compete to deliver it into your hands.

Have you seen wild dogs fighting over food?

A pack of nearly starved wild dogs, facing a fist-sized piece of meat—whoever eats that meat gets to live.

Tell me, what kind of dog could survive?

The one with the sharpest claws, the most pointed teeth, the most starved, the strongest will to survive, the most desperate in combat, the one that least follows rules.

Any dog that was even slightly softhearted, moved slower, didn’t use its full strength—none would snatch that meat.

What is this called?

This is called the strong prevail, the weak are eliminated.”

Yan Sanhe smiled lightly.

“Looking across the world, you were actually already one of the strongest in this world. But don’t forget—Zhao Ji in the North was stronger than you.

Where was he stronger? Stronger in his will.

What is will?

Simply put, it’s determination and perseverance.

When did Zhao Ji develop his ambition to seize the succession? Do you know?

How deeply did he hide this ambition? Do you know?

To what lengths could he go for this ambition? Do you know?

This stone—how many times was it carved for the sake of sitting on the throne? Do you know?”

The crow emitted several low calls from its beak. Hearing them, Yan Sanhe felt sorrow rise from within, and her tone involuntarily softened.

“Do you know how Lu Shi evaluated you?

He said: It’s not that his heart was tender or his methods insufficient, but truly that person’s ambition was so great, methods so ruthless, planning so deep that looking across the world, not one person could compare.

Zhao Lin, think carefully—what was his growing environment?

At sixteen or seventeen he was enfeoffed as a prince, stationed long-term in the North. The North was extremely cold, extremely harsh, and from time to time required fighting wars with foreign tribes.

In war, it’s either you die or I survive. To stay alive, you must fight desperately, must calculate, must be more ferocious than wild beasts.

Each time the bitter wind struck his face was another carving by heaven; each battle with enemies was another carving by heaven.

Twenty-some years of weathering and tempering—think about it, how many times did heaven carve him?

A Zhao Ji with extremely strong will, extremely strong ambition, extremely strong strategy, who was also unscrupulous and unconcerned with right or wrong—how could you, someone raised in the deep palace, growing up in the deep palace, holding benevolence and filial piety above your head, ever be his match?

Therefore, your failure was inevitable!”

The crow shuddered violently, its beak clamped tightly shut, as if unable to believe what it had just heard—that last sentence.

“The third reason for your inevitable failure…”

Yan Sanhe smiled bleakly. “Was your teacher, Tang Qiling.

Tang Qiling was a good teacher—learned and brilliantly talented. But he shouldn’t have taught you. It could even be said he misled you.

He had you first be a son, then be the Crown Prince.

Completely wrong.

The imperial family has no father-son relationship!

He taught you to be upright, to have backbone and spine, but emperors play at political craft.

Political craft means schemes and methods—speaking of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust, while behind the scenes practicing conspiracy and intrigue.

Therefore, he could teach a good student but couldn’t teach a qualified sovereign. If you’d had a different teacher, the kingdom in your hands wouldn’t have been seized.

Tang Qiling’s first wife died early, and he never remarried for the rest of his life. What does this indicate?

It indicates he was a person who valued loyalty and righteousness.

He was such a person, so naturally, you whom he taught were also such a person.

And throughout history, how many who valued loyalty and righteousness had good endings?”

Yan Sanhe sighed deeply.

“Therefore, when Tang Qiling was appointed by the Late Emperor as your teacher, cause and effect had already been planted.”

Crown Princess Liang Shi—I had already given her a name in earlier text. Because I saw a reader comment that the Crown Princess deserved a good name, in my excitement I forgot to check my notes and gave her another name. How careless of me.

Let me unify this: the Crown Princess is called Liang Sunyi!

There are still some bugs in the text, such as timeline issues. After the book is finished, I’ll proofread it again and slowly revise!