LFHYB -Chapter 209 This Is the Heart of the People United

The first batch of imperial physicians quickly reached the affected counties.

When they inquired with the local populace about the epidemic, the people were astonished.

More and more people were indeed falling ill with the same disease, and the people had already begun self-rescue. In the counties, local officials were busy. After Li Shimin’s core team left He You and Long You, the remaining local officials were competent and responsible. In villages where imperial authority had not yet reached, villagers were voluntarily isolating the sick under the guidance of village elders, doing everything they could to survive.

This kind of “self-organization” was naturally harsh, but it reflected the survival wisdom of the lower-class populace with no resistance to the epidemic.

Village elders generally knew a little about herbal medicine. Along with villagers who doubled as fortune-tellers, they often acted as barefoot doctors in the village.

When the epidemic broke out, besides coldly driving the sick into the mountains to isolate them from the village, they also collected herbs and brewed medicinal soups for the villagers.

Most of the herbs were usually ineffective, and sometimes they even added superstitious ingredients, like incense ash or soil from under deity statues. But in those times, wealthy villagers would contribute rice, flour, and treasured sugar cubes into the “big pot medicine,” so to the villagers, the “big pot medicine” seemed genuinely effective.

In ancient times, most illnesses stemmed from malnutrition. To increase resistance to epidemics, improving nutrition was also necessary.

In the modern West, a doctor once discovered a kind of universal remedy called “sugar water,” which worked better for the poor and less effectively for the wealthy. Later scientific research confirmed what should have been common sense: nutrition affects recovery. Modern society applies this principle concretely—sometimes just a single bottle of glucose can cure minor ailments.

When the common people noticed signs of the epidemic, they tried hard to save themselves. But when faced with a virulent disease, their self-rescue efforts only bought them enough time to escape to non-epidemic areas.

After that, they either were stopped and left to die, or they spread the disease further.

Most of the time, what the imperial court did was simply block their efforts to survive. That’s why when the imperial physicians arrived with medicine to help prevent the epidemic, the epidemic zones initially panicked.

Fortunately, Longxi was Li Shimin’s stronghold. Upon hearing that the current emperor was the young General Li, although they were alarmed, they did not immediately resist.

After repeatedly confirming that even people in the epidemic zones could receive medicine rather than be killed, and asking again, “Is it really General Li who became emperor?” and “Is it really Marshal Li who sent you?” their emotions stabilized.

Sun Simiao did not go to the epicenter of the epidemic but came to the quarantine areas on the outskirts of the epidemic zone to personally meet the elders sent by each village.

“Yes, it’s ‘Righteousness Soaring to the Heavens’—Li Erlang—who became emperor. The Turks also have the plague, and His Majesty went to the grasslands to block the sick Turks north of the Yellow River. ‘Virtuous and Benevolent’ Li Sanlang is now chancellor. You may have heard of Prime Chancellor Xiao He or Chancellor Zhuge; Li Sanlang is now that kind of chancellor, governing the empire from the capital. You may have heard my name—I’m Sun Simiao. I came early on with His Majesty and the chancellor to Longyou as a physician.”

Sun Simiao calmly lied, ignoring the hesitant glances of the other imperial physicians nearby.

Li Shimin was not yet officially emperor. Although he effectively held imperial power, he was still technically crown prince.

Li Xuanba was not the chancellor. He was the Prince of Jin, acting as regent, wielding more power than a chancellor but not holding office in the Three Departments.

But Sun Simiao knew that the people could not understand the intricacies of the court; they only knew the emperor was supreme, and the chancellor came next.

So Li Shimin had to be emperor, and Li Xuanba had to be chancellor.

When Sun Simiao left the capital, he reported his concerns to Li Xuanba and explained the lies he might tell.

Li Xuanba said, “As long as it reassures the people, Sun Physician can say whatever he wants. Anything else, let my brother handle it.”

Sun Simiao couldn’t help but laugh and cry: “Prince of Jin, you shouldn’t say you’ll handle everything.”

Li Xuanba replied matter-of-factly, “If the sky falls, the emperor will bear it. Even though my second brother is not yet emperor, if the sky falls, the elder brother should bear it first.”

All of Sun Simiao’s worries vanished in laughter.

He knew that Li Xuanba was still the same Li Sanlang, and the Li Shimin he trusted was still the original Li Erlang. That was why he dared to take this risk and shoulder this responsibility.

Some of the other imperial physicians initially disapproved of Sun Simiao’s approach.

Calling the crown prince the emperor, calling the Prince of Jin the chancellor—fine. The prince and the empress (oops, he meant the prince and the empress) both agreed; Sun Simiao was merely following orders.

But could the villagers in the worst-hit areas of Heryou, Longxi, really believe that the current emperor was Li Erlang and the chancellor was Li Sanlang, and that they were there to save them rather than harm them?

Only after gaining the people’s trust did Sun Simiao explain to the subordinate physicians why he acted this way.

“You may still remember, in the early years of the Daye era, Emperor Yang of Sui defeated the Tuyuhun and established the prefectures of Xihai, Heyuan, Shanshan, and Qiemo. That was the first time the crown prince and the Prince of Jin made a name for themselves.” Sun Simiao showed a thoughtful expression.

Li Xuanba had been weak since childhood. When he went to Zhangye, he used exotic medicines from the Western Regions as bait to convince Sun Simiao to accompany him. He had witnessed how the two brothers governed Longyou and Heryou.

Emperor Yang of Sui’s conquest of Tuyuhun and establishment of Xihai and other prefectures should have been a great achievement.

But Emperor Yang had a peculiar talent: no matter how good a thing was, he could ruin it to incite public anger.

When he established the Xihai prefectures, he forced minor offenders from across the empire to settle in the frontier. The frontier had no food, so he ordered the residents of Guanzhong, Longyou, and Heryou to supply grain for these settlers.

This extra forced labor not only took away the people’s grain but also required them to deliver it themselves to the frontier.

The frontier was far, sparsely populated, and full of bandits. When the emperor issued this order, he was preparing to attack Goguryeo, so the army did not protect the grain transporters. If grain was lost en route, officials would requisition it locally.

After repeated troubles, grain was gone, and farmers disappeared.

Longyou, being nearest, suffered the most. Before the people in the east and south became restless due to the campaign against Goguryeo, the northern people had already fallen into poverty.

As for Heryou, already not wealthy, the situation worsened.

Emperor Yang had always been harsh toward people near the capital. Residents near the western capital were forcibly sent to develop the frontier, while residents near the eastern capital were sent to dig canals and build palaces. Both groups felt the “comfort of being a capital dweller.”

At that time, Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were suppressing bandits in the Central Plains and had gained their reputations of “Righteousness Soaring to the Heavens” and “Virtuous and Benevolent.”

Later, Li Shimin and Li Xuanba reached Zhangye, and by plundering the Turks, they ensured that the people of the He–You region barely went hungry.

When Li Shimin’s jurisdiction expanded to Longyou, the bandit problem there was swiftly resolved. Even the waterworks that had been neglected for over a decade under the Sui dynasty were repaired, and during times of scarcity, the government provided grain loans without interest.

The common people didn’t know many characters with deep meanings; among the few they could remember were “Yi” (Righteousness) and “De” (Virtue).

For the upper echelons, Li Shimin’s nickname “Invincible in Battle” and Li Xuanba’s “Master Planner” were the highest forms of praise—and more accurate.

Yet, among the common folk in any region who had heard of them, the only things they retained firmly in their hearts were “Yi” and “De.”

Li Shimin was loyal and protected those who followed him, ensuring they would not starve.

Li Xuanba was virtuous and exceptionally kind to the people, always implementing the policies they most urgently needed.

Sun Simiao said, “He–You and Longyou have suffered so terribly under Emperor Yang of Sui that the people were on the brink of death. At their most desperate moment, His Highness the Crown Prince brought them ‘lofty righteousness’, and His Highness the Prince of Jin brought them ‘profound virtue’, rescuing them from utter devastation. When they heard that the Central Plains were in chaos, yet He–You and Longyou remained peaceful—as if under wise governance—they were even more grateful to the Crown Prince and the Prince of Jin.”

Sun Simiao paused, then smiled and said, “The people may be simple, but they know who treats them well. So as long as we tell them that His Highness the Crown Prince is the Emperor, and His Highness the Prince of Jin is the Chancellor, they will trust us and support us.”

The imperial physicians watched the corner of Sun Simiao’s mouth curve upward, even as his eyes reddened, and felt warmth in their hearts and a prickle in their noses.

Many of the imperial physicians were from the north. When Emperor Yang established new commanderies and counties, he forcibly requisitioned grain and labor—even from their hometowns. Though they possessed a skill and most had official backgrounds, sparing them from total ruin, the suffering of their neighbors and kin, even nearly ten years later, remained vivid in memory—like wounds that never fully healed, tender to the touch.

One physician murmured, “This is the will of the people.”

Sun Simiao nodded. “Exactly. That’s why, though His Highness the Prince of Jin only asked us to contain the epidemic, we should do more. Otherwise, the trust that the Crown Prince and Prince of Jin have cultivated among the people over all these years will be wasted.”

Sun Simiao smiled again, with pride tinged by a hint of emotion: “They were still children when they governed He–You and Longyou. Even then, in the hearts of the people, they were men of lofty righteousness and profound virtue. We must not damage that image.”

The imperial physicians and the accompanying folk doctors bowed to Sun Simiao. They said nothing, but all was understood.

If the Emperor and the Chancellor had the will to save the people, how could these physicians not devote themselves entirely to healing and aiding the dying?

Sun Simiao looked at his subordinates and felt a surge of fervor and a sense of heroic ambition.

He had long become a Daoist, and aside from his devotion to medicine, he was detached from worldly desires and completely indifferent to fame or wealth.

When Emperor Wen of Sui once summoned him for office, Sun Simiao hid in Mount Taibai, unwilling to let official duties restrict his freedom.

Until he met the miraculous twin brothers, Li Shimin and Li Xuanba.

Li Shimin was probably the youngest “medical troublemaker” he had ever encountered. Even now, faint red marks remained on his arm from the teeth marks that had slowly faded.

Li Shimin bit his arm and refused to let go. Li Xuanba, struggling to rise despite the difficulty, delivered a hard headbutt to his younger brother.

Li Shimin cried while apologizing, nearly fainting, removing the golden ring from his neck and pressing it into Li Xuanba’s hand as compensation. Then he embraced his brother, crying further and smearing his tears and snot onto him.

Li Xuanba struggled with all his might, only to be firmly pinned by his twin older brother, eventually feigning death like a fish floating to the surface with eyes rolled back.

Sun Simiao had never encountered such amusing “medical troublemakers.” He could not be angry at all and instead felt compassion, growing closer to the two of them over time.

Looking back then, he could never have imagined that he would eventually become a trusted courtier beside the Emperor, nearly ennobled.

Official duties certainly imposed restrictions and limited freedom.

Yet the “restrictions” brought by Li Er and Li San felt surprisingly good.

He never imagined the day when ambition would surge within him. Sun Simiao thought wryly, yet his expression was not one of mockery.

……

“The imperial physician dispatch system needs to be codified in writing,” said Li Xuanba. After preparing logistics for his older brother, he handed subsequent affairs to their mother. He shifted his focus to the epidemic.

He had taken the lead, and their mother was capable; even as a novice, she handled things adeptly.

Li Xuanba brought out the local medical regulations he had long discussed with his brother, formalizing the periodic reporting of local epidemics. The rotation of imperial physicians to local areas was also preliminarily planned.

Before leaving Chang’an, Li Shimin stayed up many nights with Li Xuanba, contributing to this initial plan.

The remaining details would have to be filled in by the court officials.

Du Ruhui sighed, “With this system, future epidemics can be suppressed in their infancy, preventing harm to the people.”

Fang Qiao nodded, stroking his beard, eyes full of hope.

Li Xuanba, however, sneered: “Don’t even think about it. A good system needs capable executors. This epidemic prevention system is only effective while my brother is in power. The next emperor will be useless. My brother has experienced the chaos of the late Sui, and knows the people cannot be oppressed. But his children, born into comfort and wealth, will not see the humble, dust-like commoners. If only considering the cost to the court, saving lowly people whose value is less than cattle and sheep is not worth it. Better to fence them in, let them all die, and the epidemic is gone.”

Du Ruhui and Fang Qiao turned pale.

They held their foreheads in despair, wanting to speak but finding no words.

If anyone else had said this, they would have refuted it. But Li Xuanba spoke with such certainty that all they could do was sigh.

Du Ruhui said wearily, “Just because it’s the next generation of emperors, does that mean the system falls apart?”

Li Xuanba replied coldly, “Yes.”

After Emperor Taizong of Tang, whether it was accomplished rulers like Emperor Gaozong or emperors of the mid-to-late Tang, their approach to epidemics was always the same: wait and see.

Because an emperor’s achievements were measured only by securing the throne and expanding territory, and later generations evaluated emperors only by those same standards.

Just as at the end of Emperor Wu of Han’s reign, when the people suffered so much that the population halved, later generations would still think of him as “the First Emperor of Han” rather than “Emperor Wen,” who improved people’s lives. By contributions to posterity, Emperor Wu indeed deserved the title “First Emperor of Han.”

For future generations, the benefits of expanding territory and “progress with epochal significance” could be enjoyed, while the deaths and suffering of contemporaneous commoners didn’t matter to them. In fact, if “progress with epochal significance” required the sacrifice of a generation, it was better that the ancestors bore it all—the later generations would be happier.

An emperor’s immediate need was to secure the throne and maintain a luxurious lifestyle; his long-term ambition was fame that would endure through the ages.

Focusing only on the present, while ignoring the “macro-level” governance costs for the lower classes, was the simplest and easiest path. It allowed them to keep living in luxury while gaining eternal renown, and the people of future generations wouldn’t care how their subjects fared.

Which kind of emperor would be foolish enough to give a useless sick commoner a chance to survive?

Wild weeds, when they wither, are dug up and buried in the soil; by next spring, more weeds will sprout.

To worry about weeds is simply not worth it.

“So don’t think about what happens after us, after we die. Most likely, people and governance alike will vanish.” Li Xuanba spoke at length about how later generations judged a “good emperor,” then calmly added, “Don’t overthink it. Just do what needs to be done now, and serve well under Emperor Taizong in the Zhenguan era.”

Fang Qiao sighed, and Du Ruhui rubbed his forehead.

Du Ruhui said, “Li San, your second brother hasn’t even become emperor yet, don’t start calling him by his temple name already.”

Fang Qiao: “……” He hadn’t even noticed that.

Li Xuanba said expressionlessly, “What’s the big deal? Before leaving the capital, my second brother insisted I sleep in the same room with him and forced me to discuss what posthumous title to give me. He thought ‘Xian’ (Virtuous) suited me, but in past princely posthumous titles, it wasn’t ideal. ‘Yi’ (Benign) suited me best, yet he still thought ‘Xian’ was better. This same circular discussion lasted a whole hour.”

Du Ruhui and Fang Qiao: “……”

Though they had long known this was how Li Shimin and Li Xuanba behaved, every time, their actions still proved they could be even more over the top.

Faced with these twin brothers, serving in the Zhenguan era didn’t seem like an easy task.

“Shut up and do your job,” Du Ruhui said harshly.

Fang Qiao shot Li Xuanba a warning look, supporting Du Ruhui.

Li Xuanba drew a cross with his lips.

Shut up, fine—why get mad? Wait until my second brother comes back; then he can be the one yelled at. Isn’t he even more extreme than me?

Under the combined threats of Fang Qiao and Du Ruhui, Li Xuanba finally stopped running off-topic.

The local medical system and the dispatch of imperial physicians were quickly finalized. Though Li Shimin’s army had military doctors accompanying them, if any of the tribes on the steppe that had submitted to Tang were in epidemic zones, Li Xuanba also sent imperial doctors to assist.

Khagan Shibi was now nominally loyal to Li Shimin, following him against Khagan Xieli.

When he received a support team of imperial physicians sent from Chang’an, he was completely stunned.

There’s… really such a thing?

But even they themselves didn’t care if their herders got sick.

Herders were like weeds—if they died, they could just get more elsewhere. While it wasn’t impossible to do without herders, sick individuals could simply be discarded. Steppe tribes were nomadic; epidemics spread easily, so they never worried about disease prevention.

Li Shimin laughed, patting Shibi Khagan on the shoulder. “You are now a Khagan recognized by the Tang. You must follow Tang rules. Even if you don’t care about your herders’ lives, right now you’re at war. Aren’t you worried about disease when your herders are so close to the front?”

Only then did Shibi Khagan gratefully accept Chang’an’s goodwill.

After persuading Shibi Khagan to support Tang epidemic prevention, Li Shimin’s expression darkened as soon as he returned to his tent.

He said to Changsun Kangning, “A-Xuan is so benevolent, wanting to help even sick Turks, yet these barbarians are ungrateful, complaining that A-Xuan is meddlesome!”

Changsun Kangning said, “Water can carry a boat but can also capsize it; the same goes for barbarians. I believe the herders have hearts too. They know it is Tang that saved them, and in the future they will be loyal to Tang.”

Li Shimin grumbled indignantly, “I know, but I’m still angry. I’ve decided—after Shibi Khagan dies, I will give him a bad posthumous title!”

Changsun Kangning couldn’t help laughing: “Good, I support you!”

Speaking of posthumous titles, Li Shimin began nagging again: “Ah, what posthumous title should A-Xuan have? Guanyin, come help me… ah, don’t run away!”

Changsun Kangning covered her ears and dashed outside the tent: “I’m not listening! So annoying! Go back to the capital and discuss it with Third Brother! I’m going to play with Sister Yuwen!”

Li Shimin reached out, but her sleeve slipped through his fingers; he couldn’t grab her.

He stomped furiously: “Guanyin finds me annoying! She actually finds me annoying! How dare she find me annoying!”

He shouted after her retreating figure.

Changsun Kangning, covering her ears, heard him and replied loudly: “But you are annoying! There are still decades before Third Brother gets his posthumous title, why nag now? Annoying, annoying, annoying! Ah, Sister Yuwen, save me!”

Yuwen Zhu, who was riding her horse for a stroll, sighed, grabbed Changsun Kangning’s hand, and lifted her onto her small horse. The two girls trotted off with the clatter of hooves, leaving Li Shimin alone, stomping and fuming helplessly.

He grabbed the passing Changsun Wuji and yelled, “Your sister actually said I’m annoying!”

Changsun Wuji: “……” Do you even realize how annoying you are?

And Xieli Khagan? Why hasn’t he sent troops yet? You’ve gathered all these forces and just hide!

If you don’t show up soon, that bastard Li Er will start deciding posthumous titles for me out of boredom!

The often-complained-about Khagan Xieli was also quite annoyed.

How should he put it? Li Shimin had been pressing right at his doorstep, and morally and politically, he should respond. But Xieli Khagan was no fool—his two older brothers, who had already submitted under Li Shimin, had firsthand experience to tell him that Li Shimin might occasionally get a name wrong, but he never misused a nickname. Li Shimin was truly “invincible in battle.”

There had always been people in the Turks who refused to obey him. Once Shibi Khagan returned, the loyalty of his men became unstable. Under these circumstances, charging Li Shimin—was he trying to earn Li Shimin a reputation as the “Khagan Who Captures the Turk Twice”?

If the young Khagan was also counted, that would make it the third time!

A fight was out of the question. Xieli Khagan knew exactly his own strength. The Turks were nowhere near as powerful as they had been under Shibi Khagan, and Li Shimin was not Yang Guang, the Sui emperor.

Yet if he did nothing, his influence in the Turks would continue to decline. If he delayed too long, the Khaganate itself might collapse.

“So annoying,” muttered the burly Xieli Khagan, often holding his head in despair when alone.

He even entertained the absurd thought: “If I had been the one captured back then, and my brother were now the Khagan, then he could worry, and I could just stir trouble for him.”

Just as Xieli Khagan was brooding, a scout returned with news: the Tang army flags were already in sight!

“Khagan! Should we flee or fight? Speak clearly, quickly!”

Xieli Khagan was stunned.

“Huh? I haven’t gone after Li Shimin yet, and he’s already found me?!”

Li Shimin, seeing the super-grand Turkic command tent that even tens of thousands of Turk cavalry couldn’t conceal, was also surprised.

The intelligence from Ye Hu had been at least two weeks late; he had assumed Xieli Khagan had already withdrawn, leaving only the rear guard behind.

This raid was just meant to give the “Grassland Allied Forces,” who had not achieved significant victories, a notable win to boost the morale of troops frustrated by Xieli Khagan’s avoidance of battle.

Why hadn’t Xieli Khagan moved for half a month? What was he waiting for? To lure me in?

Pei Xingyan also spotted the Turkic command tent and quickly said, “My lord! Do not advance rashly! There may be a trap!”

Suddenly, Li Shimin shifted his stance, standing up on the saddle.

Pei Xingyan: “???”

Changsun Wuji wanted to scream but feared startling Li Shimin’s horse.

Li Shimin’s feet slipped, and he sat back down on the saddle.

He smiled lightly: “The enemy is scattered; there should be no trap. Xieli Khagan is just too lazy to move his camp. Beat the drums! All troops, hear the orders! Prepare to engage the enemy! Qin Shubao…”

Qin Shubao, called by name, did not even finish hearing Li Shimin’s command before leading the 200 Xuan Armor troops under his command straight into a headlong charge, leaving his lord far behind.

Li Shimin touched his nose: “Impatient. I’m not going to be the vanguard this time. All of Xieli Khagan’s horses are still tethered—his army can be scattered easily without my personal command.”

Changsun Wuji, who knew Li Shimin best, said resignedly: “If you really didn’t want to go, you wouldn’t bother explaining so much.”

“All right then.”

Li Shimin turned his horse around and mounted the war chariot with the battle drum.

“I won’t be the vanguard this time; I will drum for and encourage the troops!”

“Once Qin Shubao charges into the enemy camp, Zong Luohu, Xue Shaoxuan, and Luo Shixin will each lead a unit of Xuan Armor troops to continue the assault!”

“Yes!”

“Pei Shoujing leads the infantry to attack in square formation!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Changsun Wuji, take a light cavalry unit around the rear and seek the opportunity to strike! Confident?”

“No problem.”

Li Shimin smiled: “Then, gentlemen…”

He swung his hands and struck the drum forcefully.

“Charge!”

All the soldiers, including incorporated Turkic and Huihe warriors, raised their weapons and flared their eyes.

“Kill!!!!!”