LFHYB -Chapter 174 Li Jing’s Quick Thinking

Wu Di and Han Gou’s battle ended in mutual injury.

Li Xuanba and Li Shimin’s quarrel ended with Li Shimin in a clear advantage—Li Xuanba was too tired from the journey to argue and, after a brief quarrel, went to wash up and rest.

He hurried back, expecting to assist his brother in the siege, but found that once his brother had issued the order, the city was taken in a single day. Li Xuanba had rushed for nothing.

He remembered that historically, Liang Shidu wasn’t that incompetent.

Li Xuanba slept off his fatigue for a day, then took over his brother’s post-siege civic duties.

Li Shimin could finally free his hands to consolidate the experience of these green troops, gradually turning them into veteran soldiers.

Li Xuanba led people to clear the battlefield, repair buildings and city walls, and speak with the city’s scholars and families to understand local conditions.

Once he understood the situation, Li Xuanba realized why his brother could capture Shuofang City in a single day.

Though historically Shuofang City was an important fortress against the Eastern Turks, peace had prevailed between the Eastern Turks and the Sui dynasty for over ten years. Its military significance had greatly diminished, and defenses were weak.

Even though Liang Shidu had just seized the city and mobilized civilians to repair the walls, the city was far from a “stronghold.” His troops were inadequate in number and training, and there hadn’t been enough time to develop them.

However, historically, Liang Shidu had few achievements; he only remained because he was the Eastern Turks’ watchdog, which is why the Tang dynasty dealt with him last.

During the internal unrest of the first year of Zhenguan, the Eastern Turks sent envoys; Emperor Taizong of Tang tried to persuade Liang Shidu to surrender, but he refused. In the second year of Zhenguan, the Tang dynasty destroyed Liang Shidu.

In the third year of Zhenguan, Tang Taizong sent Li Jing to attack the Eastern Turkic Khaganate; in the fourth year of Zhenguan, the Tang dynasty annihilated the Eastern Turks.

Since in this timeline the Eastern Turks had already declined, Liang Shidu naturally exited the stage of history very quickly.

If one were to judge Liang Shidu purely by his own abilities and strength, he was probably the sort of person Li Shimin couldn’t even be bothered to spare a second glance at.

Li Xuanba asked Zong Luohao, “Speaking of which, what about Liang Shidu? You didn’t catch him?”

Zong Luohao replied with an unlucky expression, “We scared him half to death while chasing him. He fell off his horse and died.”

Li Xuanba was surprised. “Then how did you calculate the merit? Did each of you cut off a piece of the corpse?”

Zong Luohao said disdainfully, “How childish would that be? We brought Liang Shidu’s body to our lord, and our lord had us draw lots.”

Li Xuanba was speechless. Drawing lots wasn’t childish?

But judging by Zong Luohao’s expression, it seemed they were quite willing to accept this method.

Letting luck decide who received this free, unearned merit—perhaps they thought it very fair?

Li Xuanba personally felt that splitting the merit evenly would have been better, but since his second brother did it this way, perhaps he had his own reasons.

Li Xuanba asked, “Then who drew the winning lot?”

Zong Luohao said, “Our lord.”

Li Xuanba: “……”

Zong Luohao continued, “Then our lord divided the merit equally among us.”

Li Xuanba: “……”

He’d been mistaken—his second brother had no reason at all.

Li Xuanba even suspected that his second brother had cheated while drawing lots, that the result had already been decided beforehand and he was just toying with his subordinates.

Li Xuanba stopped paying attention to how Li Shimin distributed merit. If anything really went wrong, it would be his second brother’s problem to deal with anyway.

Besides, before rejoining their father, there was no way that distributing merit would cause trouble.

Now that it was approaching early summer, if they worked hard, it was still possible to plant another season of millet and beans.

After clearing the fields around the city, Li Xuanba urged the people to reclaim land and plant supplemental crops.

He checked the household registers and discovered that Shuo Fang Commandery had suffered severe population loss.

What made Li Xuanba sigh even more was that the lost registered population hadn’t fled into the mountains or been hidden by powerful clans—they were truly gone.

Bandits, Turks, and marauding soldiers—these made rural farmers live in constant peril. Some were seized as conscripts, some were killed, and some fled.

He redistributed land to the people of Shuo Fang Commandery, yet few came to claim it.

Li Xuanba had originally thought they still distrusted the newly arrived Sui general. Only after speaking with the local gentry did he realize that there were truly only this many people left.

“They really don’t trust you yet. But what does distrust matter? The land still has to be farmed. Otherwise, when there are no wild grasses or tree leaves left at the end of the year, they’ll all starve to death. This really is all that remains of Shuo Fang’s people.”

The largest local clan was also surnamed Yuwen—the relatives of the late Minister of Works, Yuwen Kai. They had no kinship ties with Yuwen Shu or Yuwen Bi.

Yuwen Kai was a renowned architect; both Daxing City and Luoyang City were built under his supervision.

He was a pure craftsman. Under Emperor Wen of Sui, he was a capable official, building the capital and frontier strongholds. Under Yang Guang, he became a sycophant, abetting extravagance and tyranny.

When Shuo Fang City was built, although they could not invite Yuwen Kai himself, a high-ranking court official, members of the Yuwen clan had participated in the design.

Li Shimin originally disliked the Yuwen family.

Seeing the rice paste and flour paste used to glue stones to the city walls, how could he have any goodwill toward the Yuwen clan that oversaw the repairs?

Li Xuanba’s moral standards were sometimes lower than Li Shimin’s. He summoned the Yuwen family, hoping they would help restore the livelihood of Shuo Fang Commandery.

In a feudal era, the grassroots level was essentially controlled by local powerful clans. With the Yuwen family—Shuo Fang’s local strongmen—helping out, Li Xuanba’s control of the commandery would be much easier.

However, when Li Xuanba went to summon the Yuwen family, he discovered that their numbers were very small.

This was abnormal.

Yuwen Kai had been Minister of Works, a high-ranking Sui official. His clan should have been a powerful force in their ancestral lands.

Moreover, even before Yuwen Kai served as Minister of Works for the Sui, members of his family had already been generals under Northern Zhou—their wealth and status spanned more than three generations.

An elderly man with graying hair and beard sighed. “What Yuwen clan is there anymore? The young men, women, and children of the family were all killed by Liang Shidu.”

Seeing that Li Xuanba was willing to ask about his clan, the old man felt a sense of relief.

Those who remained had built city walls for Liang Shidu and had indeed stood on the opposite side of the Marquis of Champions’ brothers.

Only if Li Xuanba sympathized with their suffering and allowed members of their clan to serve under the Marquis of Champions could their family survive.

Li Xuanba quietly listened as the old man recounted the tragedies suffered by the Yuwen clan.

Liang Shidu was also a powerful local magnate of Shuo Fang. However, the Yuwen clan had people serving at court, making them stronger than the Liang family, which was merely tyrannical at the local level.

Furthermore, the Yuwen clan was an official family. They did not act with the same lawless abandon as local bullies and occasionally even sheltered scholars in Shuo Fang who were hostile to the Liang family.

After the Sui emperor was killed and Liang Shidu rebelled, there was no longer any need to fear the Yuwen clan’s court connections. Liang Shidu directly turned his blade on them to consolidate his authority.

If that were all, it might have ended there. By offering up more people and money, the Yuwen clan could still have preserved itself.

But warlords in times of chaos, eager to display their power, were worse than beasts.

Liang family men were killed or enslaved, and the women were violated and turned into servant girls—this could still be considered ordinary persecution.

“Liang Shidu… he ate my grandson.”

When the old man said this, his tone was flat and his eyes empty. Not a single tear fell; there was no visible sorrow or anger.

“He said that Shuo Fang lacked supplies, that there wasn’t enough good meat at generals’ banquets. Children of official families have the tenderest flesh, perfect to go with wine.”

After speaking, the old man sat in silence for a while, then added, “Not only my grandson—many children of the Yuwen clan, many children in the city, all became their wine accompaniments.”

Li Xuanba said, “There is no shortage of grain in the city.”

The old man replied, “No shortage of grain—just a shortage of good meat to go with wine. That’s what he said.”

Li Xuanba said, “Elder, I understand.”

He clasped his hands and left. The next day, he dug up Liang Shidu, who had already been buried, and hung the corpse in the middle of the main street.

Even if Li Shimin despised an enemy general, he would never deliberately humiliate a defeated foe. After Liang Shidu’s body was brought back, Li Shimin had it buried properly and granted amnesty to all members of the Liang family.

Li Xuanba, however, had the entire Liang family arrested.

Including women and children, all of them were bound.

When Li Shimin heard the news and rushed back to the city from the training grounds, Li Xuanba had already ordered the execution of Liang Shidu’s entire family. The bodies of the women and children were burned to ashes; the remains of the generals were hung up together with Liang Shidu.

Li Xuanba ordered all those whose children had been eaten by this group to step forward. Knife by knife, they cut flesh from Liang Shidu and the others, and then fed it to dogs.

“All of you who participated in abducting children for food—tell me the names of every commander involved. I will make them pay with their lives for your children,” Li Xuanba said to the frenzied crowd carving flesh. “No one can save them. Even if the army mutinies, I will still kill them.”

Li Shimin walked up behind Li Xuanba, wanting to speak but stopping himself.

With his back to his second brother, Li Xuanba said, “In times of chaos, it’s normal for rebel troops and bandits to kill. It’s normal to seize able-bodied men. It’s normal to vent anger by slaughtering cities during war. I can’t be bothered to police those things. As long as they kneel at your feet, I can calmly work with them as colleagues—even become friends with them.”

He turned to face Li Shimin. “When grain runs short, I can even turn a blind eye to using human flesh as provisions. People in a chaotic age are beasts—you can’t expect them to have much of a moral sense.”

“But when grain is plentiful, yet they take pleasure in eating human flesh—that’s worse than beasts,” Li Xuanba said coldly. “Beasts can put clothes back on and become human again. But things that aren’t even beasts must die.”

Li Shimin sighed. “You should at least have told me in advance.”

“No,” Li Xuanba said. “I kill people, you punish me—that’s how you deal with potential mutiny in the army. You’ve taken in many of Liang Shidu’s soldiers; they’ll be useful in the future. I only killed a few whose crimes were truly unforgivable. It won’t have much impact.”

“How could I punish you?” Li Shimin asked.

“You can’t punish me because of this matter,” Li Xuanba replied. “But you must punish me on the grounds that I killed without orders and disobeyed military discipline.”

Li Shimin understood his brother’s meaning. He also knew his brother was right—but he didn’t want to do it.

Li Xuanba didn’t care whether his second brother agreed or not. He drafted the punitive military order himself, signed his brother’s name, didn’t even bother stamping the seal, and issued it.

He fined his own salary, sentenced himself to confinement, and demoted his own rank. Then he took the money from his punishment and, in his second brother’s name, used it to placate those among Liang Shidu’s former subordinates whose crimes were not beyond redemption.

For example, those who had eaten human flesh but only as part of a banquet—people who hadn’t personally abducted anyone, nor written detailed “心得” on the experience of eating human flesh.

The newly absorbed troops did indeed cause unrest.

But after Li Xuanba punished himself and paid compensation, the disturbance quickly subsided. Some of Liang Shidu’s former commanders even proactively reported truly heinous offenders around them, in order to prove they hadn’t been complicit.

Li Shimin let his younger brother have his way.

When Li Xuanba shut himself indoors, Li Shimin also shut himself away, lying on his couch and staring blankly at the ceiling beams.

Although Li Xuanba was “confined,” his subordinates still came and went freely.

Nonsense—supporting scholars from Longyou hadn’t arrived yet, and there was a mountain of official business to handle. How could he really lie around doing nothing?

Thus, Li Xuanba was extremely angry at his second brother for slacking off. He marched in with two swaggering young falcons and hurled them at his brother one by one.

“Do you know how heavy they are?!” Li Shimin was hit once and dodged the second.

“I know,” Li Xuanba said coldly. “That’s why I threw them at you. Why are you slacking off? Do you want to work me to death?”

Li Shimin pushed away Wudi, who was flapping onto him, sat up cross-legged, and said, “I’m not slacking off. I’m thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Li Xuanba asked, sitting beside him and pulling Han Gou into his arms.

Li Shimin said, “When you were young, you told me that the chaos at the end of the Tang dynasty was like this. Is it really like Shuofang City?”

“More or less,” Li Xuanba replied. “To those brainless military men, eating human flesh is the quickest way to intimidate others.”

After Xue Ju proclaimed himself king, his sons Xue Ming and Xue Rengao were like that as well—using cannibalism to cow their subordinates. Whoever disobeyed would be eaten.

Later generations said that Li Shimin had already accepted their surrender and even went sightseeing hand in hand with the Xue family, yet Li Yuan still killed Xue Rengao—and that Li Yuan was wrong.

But in Li Xuanba’s view, regardless of Li Yuan’s reasons, Xue Rengao deserved to die.

Exchanging children for food is driven by hunger; even using human flesh as army rations can be attributed to hunger. But people like Xue Rengao, who lacked neither grain nor meat yet still ate human flesh—no death could be too cruel for them.

Li Xuanba had once asked Xue Ming whether he liked eating human flesh. At that time, Xue Ming was just an ordinary son of a powerful family. He turned pale with terror and asked why Li Xuanba would say something so horrifying.

Although Xue Ming had already shown signs of greed and volatility, before he came to power—while still striving upward, having his achievements stolen by his father—he was still a normal person who understood propriety, righteousness, and shame.

Li Xuanba did not condemn people for crimes not yet committed, just as when he was young he still wished to be a harmonious brother with Li Jiancheng and Li Yuanji. He treated Xue Ming well, often assigning him studies, telling him not to disgrace the Hedong Xue clan—so much so that Xue Ming would turn pale at the sight of him, barely daring to breathe.

But once crimes have already been committed, they must be purged.

So what if the army mutinies?

So what if some commanders become disloyal?

Kill first.

“Anyway, I’ve got you to cover things up,” Li Xuanba said.

Li Shimin gave a bitter smile. “Couldn’t you at least tell me first? If you say kill, would I ever say no?”

“I was afraid you’d lose your temper and go carve a few slices yourself,” Li Xuanba replied. “Some things I can do—you can’t. If you’re going to be emperor, don’t be willful. Even people who disgust you to the bone—you’ll still have to preserve their wealth and honor.”

“Start learning that from now on.”

Li Shimin fell silent for a moment, then turned his head and said, “You didn’t do it because you don’t trust me, did you?”

Li Xuanba frowned. “Brother, what are you talking about? Are you sick or something?”

Having been scolded, Li Shimin looked extremely awkward.

Li Xuanba eyed him suspiciously. “You think I don’t trust you? I did it because I know you’d be filled with righteous indignation, then blame yourself for not noticing such a tragedy, and end up letting your anger take over and doing something irrational. That’s why I struck first. If I act, you can still calm things down. If you act, then all we can do is fight another war.”

“Seriously, seriously? Second Brother, you’re not even emperor yet and your paranoia is already this bad?” Li Xuanba looked utterly disgusted and shuffled away as if he’d seen something filthy.

Li Shimin: “……”

His fists clenched.

No need to endure it anymore. Li Shimin lunged forward and gave his younger brother a solid beating.

“Can you stop acting on your own all the time?! Can’t you at least tell me beforehand?!”

“What? You sent Han Gou to deliver a message? Wasn’t your timing way too tight?! I couldn’t even make it back in time riding at full speed!”

“All you know is being willful, being willful! Are you trying to piss me to death?!”

“I already said I wouldn’t punish you, and you still went and forged my signature to issue orders! When I become emperor, are you going to start writing imperial edicts yourself too?!”

Li Xuanba squatted down, clutching his head in defense.

Grinding his teeth, Li Shimin said, “Do you have any idea how worried I was watching you kill people?! You’re soft-hearted by nature—how can you stand that kind of bloodshed?! What if you got so frightened you fell ill?! I haven’t slept peacefully these past few days!”

Still squatting with his head covered, Li Xuanba replied in utter disbelief, “Soft-hearted? Frightened sick? Brother, what nonsense are you spouting?”

“Still talking back!”

Li Shimin pressed his head down and continued knocking on it.

Li Xuanba was furious.

In the original timeline, even if Li Shimin didn’t understand his actions, he was the kind who protected his own—there was no way he’d punish him.

His own second brother had been “poisoned” by him day in and day out. Forget punishment—if he’d learned of this, he would’ve personally picked up a blade and killed people himself.

But in this era, using cannibalism to intimidate subordinates was normal. It would’ve been strange if he hadn’t been enraged enough to kill. If Second Brother did such a thing personally, he’d instead be condemned by aristocratic clans and generals for cruelty—killing surrendered enemies.

That was the moral framework of the time. Commoners could be slaughtered at will, but once surrendered generals or officials had been promised mercy, reneging on that promise meant being a fickle, contemptible man. That was why Li Yuan was often criticized.

Of course, Li Yuan had his own defense: Li Shimin agreed not to kill surrendered officials—not me. The Prince of Qin doesn’t get to decide for the emperor. Logically, it still held water.

And now Second Brother was saying he didn’t trust him? Was his brain broken?

After Li Shimin finished beating him and vented the pent-up anger in his chest, Li Xuanba lowered his arms and silently made a note in his mental little ledger.

Just wait. Tomorrow I’ll write to Mother and Teacher. Second Brother, you’re finished.

“Tsk, honestly—this chaotic age is so annoying,” Li Shimin said, returning to his usual lively self. He flopped backward onto the couch, lying spread-eagle. “A-Xuan, let’s hurry up and put an end to this chaos.”

Li Xuanba said, “Sounds great. I believe you’ll win every battle. But what about logistics and grain supplies?”

Li Shimin said, “Sustain the war with war.”

Li Xuanba said, “Then wouldn’t all our effort building a reputation as loyal ministers of the Great Sui be for nothing? What if Father swoops in and takes the credit? After he proclaims himself emperor, he could technically strip us of our military authority.”

Li Shimin rolled around on the couch. “Aaahhh, so annoying! If only that table-nephew in Luoyang were a bit dumber and just enfeoffed the two of us as princes. Then we could use the banner of Great Sui as tiger skin—Father wouldn’t be able to command us.”

Li Xuanba sighed. “Yeah. Stop thinking so much and get up to work already!” Bang—he punched his second brother on the head.

“Oh.” Li Shimin weakly crawled up, lips drooping, and went out to work.

That afternoon, the envoy from Luoyang finally found where Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were and arrived carrying an imperial edict.

Li Shimin stared at the decree: “Prince of Longxi?”

Li Xuanba stared at his: “Prince of Taiyuan?”

The brothers spoke in unison: “Tang Duke?!!!!!”

The two heads leaning together twisted at the same time, staring at each other.

“Uh, Second Brother, looks like you really can sustain the war with war now. So—where do we fight first?”

“Damn it!”

……

While Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were shocking the Luoyang mini-court with their outrageous maneuvers, the long-missing Chai Shao was in Chengdu… petting a white bear.

The white bears in Chengdu were very strange—black ears, black paws, and a pair of black eye circles. Extremely cute.

As for why Chai Shao, who’d gone to Longxi to seek refuge with Li Shimin, was now in Chengdu—well, that had to do with Li Jing, who was lying on a bamboo chair nearby sipping tea.

Li Jing was a true scion of the Longxi Li clan—not the Tang Duke household’s “borrowed” version. He was the nephew of the great Sui general Han Qinhu. In his youth, Han Qinhu had already called him a “seed of a great general,” and he was highly valued by Yang Su, who praised him everywhere as a man with the talent to assist a king.

Unfortunately, precisely because Yang Su valued him, Yang Guang—who feared Yang Su—never made heavy use of this famous aristocratic scion. Still, relying on his own ability, Li Jing became the Assistant Administrator of Mayi Commandery in his forties.

Since Li Jing was a “seed of a great general,” he naturally saw at a glance that Li Yuan intended to rebel.

However, he believed the conditions for Li Yuan’s uprising were not yet ripe, so he thought he still had plenty of time to slowly gather evidence. When he felt his evidence was sufficient, he planned to go to Jiangdu to report Li Yuan.

Crossing north and south alone was extremely difficult, so Li Jing first went to the Western Capital to inform the acting governor there, who would then send him—or someone else—to Jiangdu to report to the emperor.

Li Jing had another reason for choosing the Western Capital first: he believed that once Li Yuan rose in rebellion, he would certainly march straight on the Western Capital. By warning it in advance, the city could prepare its defenses.

Who would have thought that Li Jing’s judgment would be wrong? Li Yuan launched his rebellion early. The roads from Taiyuan to the Western Capital were full of obstacles, making travel extremely difficult.

Even more unexpectedly, when Li Jing left Mayi Commandery, Yang Guang had already been reduced to ashes in Jiangdu.

When Li Jing learned this disastrous news just outside the Western Capital: “???”

With Yang Guang dead, the two young imperial grandsons of Great Sui clearly had no hope of saving the dynasty.

Li Jing was exceptionally talented, yet he had never managed to realize his ambitions. He did not want to die.

Now that the emperor was dead, he no longer cared about loyalty to the Great Sui. Looking across the entire realm, Li Yuan—who had sons like Li Shimin and Li Xuanba, a pair of qilin-like prodigies—was the one most likely to become emperor.

Continuing on to the Western Capital to report secret intelligence was impossible. He had already been delayed on the road for so long, and Li Yuan had inexplicably risen in rebellion ahead of schedule. His information had long since lost its timeliness. Even if he reached the Western Capital, no one would take him seriously, and he would never again be accepted by Li Yuan as a loyal minister of the Sui.

But returning to Taiyuan to defect to Li Yuan was also impossible.

As the Grand Administrator of Taiyuan and Pacification Commissioner of Shanxi, Li Yuan was Li Jing’s nominal superior. Li Jing knew all too well how petty Li Yuan could be—there was no way he would let someone like him off, someone who had secretly slipped away to report him.

Just as Li Jing was caught between two dilemmas, he ran into Chai Shao, who had also fled in secret.

A flash of inspiration struck Li Jing; a plan formed in his mind.

After playing with the black-ringed white bear for a while, Chai Shao sighed to Li Jing.
“Will Second Young Master Li and Third Young Master Li really send people to Chengdu to persuade them to surrender?”

Li Jing replied unhurriedly, “The people they sent should already be on the road. Don’t rush.”

Chai Shao said worriedly, “You’ve already persuaded and taken over Shu. Why can’t you just go straight to Longxi to find Second Young Master and Third Young Master? Why must we wait for them here? My wife must already know I’ve gone missing—she must be frantic.”

Li Jing said, “The moment you and I leave, Shu will immediately rebel again. The reason I convinced them to submit was precisely because I said that the Champion Marquis’s brothers would send people to take over Shu. I need to borrow your identity to make them believe it. Wait a little longer—soon.”

He looked westward, narrowed his eyes, and continued sipping his tea at an unhurried pace.

Reporting secrets? Don’t be ridiculous. He had come to Shu together with Chai Shao to build merit and achievements, to throw in his lot with the Champion Marquis Li Shimin, whose might shook the entire realm.