LFHYB -Chapter 219 Emperor Taizong’s Later Years and Governance Problems

When the new emperor of the Tang ascended the throne, the people sang and danced with joy, crying tears of happiness. This scene was destined to be vividly recorded in the history books.

And it wasn’t just the history books—Yan Liben was already sketching it in his mind.

Upon returning to Chang’an, his older brother Yan Lide was entrusted by Li Xuanba to handle the actual painting work.

Yan Lide’s reputation as a painter in his era was comparable to Yan Liben’s. In fact, the Tang imperial family in actual history appreciated Yan Lide’s art even more.

Most of Yan Lide’s works were commissioned for political purposes—for instance, depicting meetings between southwestern minority leaders and Emperor Taizong, or Princess Wencheng entering Tibet. Therefore, after a dynastic change, very few copies were preserved, which is why his fame later faded.

Li Xuanba wanted to ensure that reproductions of Yan Lide’s work would survive, making it harder for Yan Liben to claim the title of “Sage of Painting.”

The title of “Sage of Painting” might not necessarily belong to Wu Daozi, nor necessarily to Yan Liben—that was the fun of it.

However, Li Xuanba knew it would be difficult for Yan Lide to compete for this title. Not only was Yan Lide a painter, but he was also an architect. The mausoleums of Emperor Gaozu and Emperor Taizong were both designed and built under his supervision. In his later years, like most emperors, Emperor Taizong began indulging in luxurious palaces and villas, all constructed under Yan Lide’s guidance.

Even though in this timeline, Li Shimin wouldn’t build too many unnecessary palaces, city repairs, irrigation, and basic infrastructure projects were scheduled ten years into Li Xuanba’s “plan,” let alone that his older brother genuinely wanted to live in a grand house.

Although some of Yuwen Kai’s relatives were skilled craftsmen, none were architects like Yuwen Kai. In the future, all large-scale Tang construction projects would be led by Yan Lide, the “architect” recognized in history. He would be extremely busy.

Currently, Yan Lide had already begun supervising construction at Tangquan Palace.

After returning to the palace, Li Shimin did not immediately move into Daxing Palace, choosing instead to stay in his former Eastern Palace as crown prince, out of respect for the retired Emperor Li Yuan.

Once the weather warmed, Li Shimin would hold a grand moving ceremony for Li Yuan, officially taking residence in this palace, which had belonged to the emperors since Sui Wendi.

“Although Emperor Yang of Sui rarely lived in Daxing Palace after his accession—it was quite desolate,” said Li Xuanba. “Father is so considerate; he’s warming the house for you first.”

Li Shimin wanted to speak but hesitated, remaining silent.

The fervent public sentiment had given him a nightmare all night: he dreamt of the scene when Emperor Yang of Jiangdu was beheaded by Wang Bo, except in the dream, the person on the stage was himself.

Luckily, the nightmare ended somewhat comically—his younger brother suddenly leapt forward, telling Wang Bo he had executed the wrong person. Wang Bo slapped his head and admitted his mistake, untying him, and then he woke up. Otherwise, he had no idea how he could have faced Wang Bo.

Perhaps it was better to never meet him in person, he thought, grimacing.

Only now did Li Shimin understand why his brother had told him back then not to witness Wang Bo executing Emperor Yang of Sui.

At that time, he was not yet emperor and had felt that his brother was underestimating him. What harm could it do to watch? How could it be worse than the bloodshed on the battlefield?

Now, having just become emperor, he had produced such a ridiculous nightmare—what a hassle.

Fortunately, Li Shimin was broad-minded; even nightmares ended in humorous conclusions, so no real psychological shadow was cast.

Seeing his elder brother not respond, Li Xuanba curiously asked, “Were you too excited after ascending the throne and didn’t sleep well? Are you a child?”

Li Shimin replied helplessly, “Anyone who becomes emperor would be overly excited—what does that have to do with being a child? But I wasn’t overexcited.”

Without hesitation, he recounted the nightmare to Li Xuanba and complained that Wang Bo’s beheading of Emperor Yang of Sui was probably too shocking for any emperor throughout history.

Many deposed emperors of previous dynasties had died, but an emperor beheaded by a rising commoner was a first.

Li Xuanba did not console him, laughing so hard he could barely breathe: “I was even in your dream? What do you mean ‘tied up the wrong person’? What kind of nightmare is that?”

Li Shimin crossed his arms. “It was indeed terrifying and infuriating—so much that I wanted to exile Wang Bo for tying up the wrong person!”

Li Xuanba said, “Wang Bo had already taken a small boat and exiled himself abroad. Consider it done.”

Li Shimin rolled his eyes. Yes, yes, Wang Bo was gone. The only one left was the scholar Wang Yun of the Langya Wang clan.

Li Xuanba thought for a moment and switched to his inner voice: [But in your later years, you also built palaces and personally campaigned against Goguryeo. Unfortunately, you didn’t rebuild the Grand Canal and only invaded Goguryeo once, which only sparked one rebellion. So the people won’t be beheading you—don’t be afraid.]

Li Shimin screamed: “Shut up!”

Li Xuanba didn’t stop, enumerating the palaces Emperor Taizong built in his later years.

In short, Taizong spent ten years stabilizing the surrounding barbarian territories, achieving the title of “Heavenly Khan,” and then spent another three or four years restoring the people’s livelihood, bringing Chang’an’s grain prices nearly to the level of the Han dynasty’s Wen and Jing periods.

Although many regions of the Tang were still undeveloped, with numerous administrative issues, even succession alone could trouble the emperor. After tens of years of stress, Emperor Taizong finally relaxed: “I’ve been emperor for over a decade—can’t I enjoy a little?”

Thus, the frugal and benevolent Taizong, who usually accepted counsel humbly, no longer wanted advice. He started building large houses, levying labor, and enjoying himself.

In the 14th year of the Zhenguan era, Emperor Taizong mobilized over one million laborers to build Cuiwei Palace. However, the location was poorly chosen, it was uncomfortable to live in, and the palace was eventually abandoned. Yan Lide was consequently dismissed from office.

In the 18th year of the Zhenguan era, Emperor Taizong of Tang again ordered Yan Lide to build the Tangquan Palace at the foot of Mount Li, which later became the famous Huaqing Palace. That same year, Emperor Taizong began preparing for a personal campaign against Goguryeo, again imposing massive corvée labor. Yan Lide was tasked not only with building Tangquan Palace but also overseeing the construction of large ships.

In the 21st year of Zhenguan, in April, Emperor Taizong ordered Yan Lide to renovate Cuiwei Palace based on the Taihe Palace; in July, he ordered Yan Lide to build Yuhua Palace on the foundation of Renzhi Palace…

All these palaces were newly constructed on the ruins of old palaces, not to mention the expansions of existing palaces and the construction of imperial retreats, such as Jiucheng Palace, expanded from Renshou Palace.

Even without reviewing other historical records, just going through the biography of Yan Lide—a relatively obscure figure in history—shows how much corvée labor Emperor Taizong mobilized in his later years.

As for Emperor Taizong, after building these palaces, he somewhat regretted it, leaving some palaces unused or even opening them to the public—the labor had already been done.

[Of course, the ministers offered advice. But this time, Emperor Taizong, who used to accept counsel humbly, refused to heed it and uttered a famous line for the ages: “When the people have nothing to do, they grow arrogant; when they are put to labor, they are easily managed.” Alas, many have heard this line, but few know it came from the same Emperor Taizong who once said, “Water can overturn a boat.”]

Li Shimin had already started to run, trying to escape the reach of his brother’s thoughts.

How could Li Xuanba let him run? Of course, he chased Li Shimin around the small courtyard of the Eastern Palace.

[Do you know “blessed hands, blessed feet”? In the 16th year of Zhenguan, the people harmed themselves to escape corvée labor. That was your imperial decree: “From now on, anyone who harms themselves will be punished according to the law, and still be subjected to labor.” The next year, you built Tangquan Palace and prepared to campaign against Goguryeo.]

[According to records, in the 16th year of Zhenguan, the population of the empire was sixteen million. For just one palace, you needed a million laborers. You had to build palaces and wage war against Goguryeo—where would so many people come from? The people of Jiannan Circuit missed the autumn harvest due to forced labor. “The people sold their fields and houses, sold their children but still could not pay; grain prices soared.” No wonder rebellions broke out!]

Li Shimin ran while looking back and shouted, “What does this have to do with me?! I didn’t do it!”

Li Xuanba said, “Then why are you running? You didn’t do it anyway.”

Li Shimin actually stopped. He plopped down on the ground, crossed his legs, and rested his hands on his knees. “Makes sense. Keep going. I’ll laugh at him with you.”

Li Xuanba’s bright smile vanished instantly, and his high spirits became flat.

Li Shimin pulled his disinterested brother to sit opposite him on the ground. “Don’t run—go on, go on, tell me the next part in your mind.”

Li Xuanba: [Nothing much—just suppress rebellions, ease the labor burden, and pacify popular resentment.]

“Oh.” Li Shimin also felt a bit dull.

Once he stopped thinking of the “Emperor Taizong” in his brother’s words as himself, he could listen to the other “Emperor Taizong” doing poorly and find amusement in criticizing him.

So he began sharply evaluating the policies and faults of the other Emperor Taizong while asking his brother for details.

Li Xuanba, annoyed, tried to leave several times but was dragged back by Li Shimin.

Li Xuanba: “Do we really have to sit on this cold ground to talk about this?”

Li Shimin stood up, leaving the dust on his clothes alone, and dragged his brother inside, loudly instructing the palace servants—who had long avoided the scene—to add firewood.

“Wow, he’s completely unleashed! Sounds fun. Being a foolish emperor really is kind of fun.”

“Heh, this foolish emperor is for you—will you take it?”

“With you helping, I don’t have to suffer and can still be a good wise ruler. I won’t be a foolish emperor. Haven’t you already used our father’s name to build Tangquan Palace through labor in lieu of relief? It’s all yours now.”

“Huh? How did it become my job?”

“Honestly, I like hunting. Help me figure out a way to hold at least one large hunt each year without exhausting the people or wasting money.”

“Brother, are you sick? Don’t assign me weird tasks! Although I am already planning to report and hold an annual hunt on the grasslands with foreign tribes to display royal prestige and strengthen relations with the tribes, that has nothing to do with satisfying your hunting desires!”

“See? I told you—you can do it.”

“Get lost!”

“Hahaha!”

Li Shimin laughed uproariously on the couch, rocking back and forth. Li Xuanba looked thoroughly exasperated.

Once Li Shimin had laughed enough, Li Xuanba calmly said, “Regarding your negligent governance in later years, many have defended you: building a few more palaces than other emperors is fine—you are still a wise emperor; the rebellion in Jiannan Circuit was caused by officials, not you; the people evading corvée labor was due to the system of taxation and service, which would have troubled any emperor; the Sichuanese were lazy and fragile, unable to endure twenty days of labor, selling children and land—basically, a bunch of giant infants taking advantage of your kindness…”

Li Shimin raised his hand to interrupt: “Wait. The first part was objective, but the last line—what’s that? Who would say such malicious things?”

Li Xuanba said, “Later generations, living far from the poverty of ordinary people, are even more distant than we, born to privileged households. They admire you—famous young general, heroic yet tragic, eternal wise emperor, shining moonlight—they love you, so they always defend you. Naturally, those who cause you trouble in their eyes are seen as misbehaving subjects.”

Li Xuanba chuckled: “But no matter how much they love you, they cannot go back to the Tang to serve the labor for the so-called ‘troublesome subjects.’ Even if the common people of that time were called ‘troublesome,’ so what? They will still rebel if they must, and still shake the foundation of the Tang dynasty if they must.”

“Frozen ground doesn’t happen overnight. Besides an incompetent emperor, what brings down a dynasty is land policy that makes life impossible for the people. Every rebellion is followed by serious land concentration and loss of court credibility; every rebellion shortens the dynasty’s life…”

Before Li Xuanba could finish, Li Shimin cut in: “Then let’s follow your motto: ‘Set a small goal first’—let’s aim for not a single rebellion during the Zhenguan era!”

Li Xuanba’s smile disappeared again: “Do you know how many natural disasters occurred during Zhenguan?”

Li Shimin grinned: “That’s why I still have you! Besides you, I have Xiao Wu. Brothers united are as strong as metal. I’ll send Xiao Wu out to supervise officials in disaster relief!”

Li Xuanba asked seriously, “Do you know that Xiao Wu is getting married next month?”

Li Shimin nodded. “What nonsense are you saying? How would I not know? I still have to confer his wife as the Princess of Chu. He’ll come back when it’s time to get married, and after the wedding, he’ll take his wife along.”

Li Xuanba: “…As long as you’re happy.”

Li Shimin was shocked. “You’re not defending Xiao Wu?! You actually agreed?!”

Li Xuanba put on the exact same serious expression Li Shimin had just had: “Of course. We’re all so busy, why should Xiao Wu get a wedding leave? Besides, didn’t you allow him to take sister-in-law along? Consider it a honeymoon, a chance to travel and enjoy the scenery.”

Li Shimin: “…As long as you’re happy.”

Ah, Xiao Wu really has a mischievous mind. Huh? Was this my idea? Yes… I’m mischievous too.

Li Shimin, who originally felt the heavy pressure of being pushed to the throne by public opinion, suddenly felt relieved when he realized that even the Tang Taizong next door could be considered a “bright and virtuous ruler of a thousand ages” despite not doing everything perfectly.

“From now on, you should tell me more about what happens next door. It’ll make me happy.”

“Huh?”

Li Xuanba realized his brother was serious, and the fun of spoiling the story instantly diminished.

Over twenty years had passed, yet his brother was still immune to spoilers? This wouldn’t do! His life was still long, and it wouldn’t be fun unless he tormented Second Brother a little.

Li Shimin grabbed the utterly frustrated Li Xuanba and went to see Li Zhiyun, telling him about the important responsibilities ahead.

Xiao Wu, you’ve grown up. It’s time to shoulder heavy responsibilities on behalf of your brother. Second Brother believes in you!

“So, did the Tang Taizong you ‘saw’ eventually reflect on his mistakes?”

“Yes, he said…”

“Since I ascended the throne, I have instituted many things.

Magnificent clothing and ornaments, brocade and jewels, endless as before—this is not to indulge desire;

Carved beams and pillars, high terraces and deep pools, all requiring labor—this is not to practice thrift;

Dogs, horses, falcons, all brought from afar—this is not to exercise restraint;

Repeated imperial excursions, laboring the people—this is not to humble myself.

These acts are my great faults. Do not follow them as proper conduct hereafter.”

— Di Fan, Tang Dynasty, 22nd year of Zhenguan, compiled by Li Shimin

Li Shimin held his brother’s hand and gazed into the distance, his eyes deep and contemplative.

He had barely reached adulthood and no one had taught him how to be a good emperor. Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing.

Yet in another timeline, the version of himself who had lived a full life—gains and losses alike—but was still revered as a wise ruler, might serve as his “imperial teacher.”

“Do you remember the full text of Di Fan?”

“Yes.”

“Write it down for me.”

“Okay.”

In this timeline, Tang Taizong—the cultured emperor, the new emperor Li Erlang of the Tang—humbly received instruction.