LFHYB -Chapter 55 Preparing to Send People to the South Sea

Awkward.

He curled his toes tightly.

“Li Yuan beat Li Erlang badly, and now Li Erlang can’t even get up?” Yang Guang sounded a little surprised upon hearing the report.

The scout said, “Your Majesty, after Li Erlang and Li Sanlang returned to the residence, they informed the Duke of Tang about the upcoming promotion. The Duke of Tang, after explaining the story of Li Yannian, became angry and wanted to beat Li Sanlang. Li Erlang, worried that Li Sanlang was weak and couldn’t withstand the punishment, voluntarily took double the blows himself, so his injuries were rather severe.”

The scout hesitated for a moment, then continued, “The Duke of Tang also said… that Li Yannian was Emperor Wu of Han’s male favorite…”

With a wave of his hand, the fruit plates and cups on Yang Guang’s desk toppled and shattered.

Yang Guang sneered, “What? Li Yuan thinks I have improper intentions toward Li Sanlang?!”

The scout quickly kowtowed and said, “The Duke of Tang probably didn’t mean that. He was only scolding Li Sanlang for being reckless, flattering Your Majesty, and dishonoring the Tang residence’s family traditions.”

Yang Guang took a deep breath, forcing down his anger. “And what did Li Erlang and Li Sanlang say?”

The scout replied, “Li Erlang and Li Sanlang defended themselves, saying they only treated Your Majesty like a father, and Your Majesty treated them like sons. There was no flattery involved.”

Yang Guang fell silent for a long while, then ordered the palace staff to clean up the broken pieces and sent the scout back to the Duke of Tang’s residence.

He dismissed the rest of the palace attendants and bent over to read the memorial submitted by Li Xuanba.

After a long while, Yang Guang sighed, “I should have directly reprimanded Li Yuan.”

He had thought Li Yuan was a calculating man—by chastising his son, it would be like chastising him. Who would have thought Li Yuan would pass all the blame onto the young Li Shimin and Li Xuanba, even causing Li Shimin to receive a severe beating.

Yang Guang recalled that when his aunt was alive, there had been a major embarrassment because Li Yuan and the old lady favored Li Jiancheng.

It was proper according to ritual for Li Erlang and Li Sanlang to yield to their elder legitimate brother. Although Yang Guang himself had seized succession, he did not wish others to challenge propriety.

However, since Li Erlang and Li Sanlang were closer to him, seeing them beaten and insulted—and recalling the Tang residence’s favoritism—he couldn’t help feeling displeased with Li Yuan’s actions.

“If I don’t directly punish Li Yuan, I should at least punish Li Jiancheng. Li Erlang and Li Sanlang should not be involved,” Yang Guang said again. “It seems that in the Tang residence, only Li Yuan and Li Jiancheng are worth disciplining.”

…

This time, Li Xuanba came to Luoyang to expand the printing shop and soap workshop business to the Eastern Capital.

Yang Guang disliked returning to Daxing. Apart from the southern and northern tours, he spent most of his time in the Eastern Capital. During the Daye era, the Eastern Capital was more prosperous than the main capital. Merchants from the Western Regions and foreign envoys gathered there, making it easier for Li Xuanba to earn and spend money.

Although Li Shimin had been beaten, Li Yuan had used his hands, so the swelling on his back and buttocks was severe but would heal quickly.

Seeing that his second brother was fine, Li Xuanba let him lie down and pass the time reading military texts like casual books while he went out to inspect the businesses.

The Eastern Capital was newly built. Even the mansions granted to nobles were more spacious, and the workshops behind the market shops were larger than those in Daxing.

The printing workshop was located inside the market, while the soap workshop remained in a suburban estate of the Eastern Capital.

Because Yang Guang imposed more corvée labor, some families unable to bear the burden sold themselves into servitude. Li Xuanba took the opportunity to acquire some of these people to staff the Luoyang workshops. The workshops were already in operation.

Li Xuanba first inspected the suburban soap workshop, then returned to the city to chat briefly with the proofreaders in the printing workshop.

Chinese characters are pictographs; typesetters didn’t need to read—they only needed to match the shapes. But proofreaders did need to know the characters, so efficiency and accuracy were much higher.

Even now, it was still difficult for students from poor families to find official positions. They could only submit applications to the households of noble families, hoping for a chance.

Some small or branch families also needed to serve as retainers for the noble households, waiting to be recommended.

The once-famous Wang and Xie families: before Xie An rose to fame, he had served in the Wang family.

Many scholars had to find work while waiting for opportunities. As long as they were literate, work was easy to find: copying books, writing letters for others, selling calligraphy and paintings, managing accounts. Scholars were scarce resources, so they could always find something to do.

Originally, copying books in bookstores was the main way scholars earned a living. After the rise of printing, they lamented the loss of income. Unexpectedly, the Tang residence’s printing shops hired even more scholars than before.

The scholars no longer needed to copy books; they just sat in the workshops proofreading. With so many books being printed, proofreading tasks were urgent and required many scholars. Aside from the unpleasant smell of ink, they were well-fed and housed, with bonuses—quite a good arrangement.

Poor students no longer complained and competed fiercely for these positions.

It was not easy to find a place in the capital with meals and lodging provided. Moreover, it was the Tang residence’s shop, offering a chance to meet nobles. Perhaps one day a noble would notice them and recruit them as household clerks.

Li Xuanba indeed intended to use proofreading positions to recruit overlooked talent from poor families. Otherwise, he could have assigned the Tang residence’s servants to be proofreaders. Most servants were literate and only needed a monthly salary, costing less.

Before printing technology, it was extremely difficult for poor scholars to advance, and talent rarely emerged. He knew the chances of finding overlooked talent were slim, so he preferred to follow historical precedent and approach literate students directly.

But his second brother already had his own subordinates, and Li Xuanba needed manpower himself.

Li Jiancheng’s subordinates focused only on securing the position of the eldest son; even his second brother couldn’t win them over, let alone himself. Li Xuanba considered his own character and decided to recruit from poor but literate students.

Liu Bang and Zhu Yuanzhang managed to pick founding ministers from among their poor companions. While innate conditions matter, training afterward is also crucial. Li Xuanba wasn’t forming founding ministers—he was just a minor prince’s official. As long as someone was literate, clever, and of good character, he could find useful people.

Now, Li Xuanba was quite satisfied with the proofreading master in front of him.

The proofreading master’s name was Yan Zhen, courtesy name Zishi. He had no relation to the Yan family who wrote Yan Family Instructions.

Being from a humble family did not mean being an ordinary commoner. Yan Zhen came from an official family background: his grandfather had served as a county magistrate during the Chen dynasty, and his father led a life of study and farming at home. Now, Yan Zhen was properly a member of the lower gentry.

Yan Zhen also wanted to take the imperial examination route. But the imperial exams in the Sui dynasty were similar to the recommendation system: without a recommendation from a fifth-rank official, Yan Zhen wouldn’t even qualify to take the exams.

Yan Zhen was ambitious and proud, always thinking that his talent was exceptional and that a noble would surely recognize him. So he gathered some money and came to the Eastern Capital looking for opportunities.

Li Xuanba didn’t recall seeing anyone named Yan Zhen in the historical records.

Perhaps he had hit a wall and slunk back home, or perhaps he got his wish and became an official whose name simply didn’t make it into the annals.

Yan Zhen’s learning was average, a common problem among scholars from humble families. But he was quick-witted and humble when needed. Among the proofreading masters Li Xuanba had recruited, he was one of the rare ones who could get along well with the craftsmen in the printing workshop.

Yan Zhen had a good relationship with the craftsmen; it wasn’t a performance for show. In this era, people cared a lot about social status. They wouldn’t expect the young masters of the Tang Duke’s household to favor such “unconventional” types.

Although Li Xuanba was now the third young master of the Tang Duke’s household, his soul was still that of an ordinary small-town citizen from a past life, so he found Yan Zhen appealing.

After mentally putting Yan Zhen under his wing, Li Xuanba often discussed classics with him, helping to shore up Yan Zhen’s weaknesses.

Through this interaction, he realized that although Yan Zhen was of a “humble family” and his father practiced farming and study at home, his mother was skilled in business. In fact, they were not short of money. Yan Zhen had worked hard to get into the printing workshop as a proofreading master to study the Confucian classics annotated by Teacher Gao and Teacher Yuwen.

Though he could have purchased printed editions, Yan Zhen thought that working as a proofreader—seeing the classics repeated every day—would save money, improve memorization efficiency, and allow him to converse with the craftsmen, which was far more interesting than studying alone.

Li Xuanba asked, “You’re careful with money—it seems you have a knack for business. How about I have you do business for me?”

Yan Zhen smiled: “Being able to serve Third Young Master is already a great fortune. Business is no issue. If I fail in life, I’d return home and inherit my mother’s trade anyway.”

Li Xuanba asked, “What if it’s far away, doing business with foreign lands?”

Yan Zhen’s smile grew wider: “Doing business in foreign lands? Then I’m no ordinary merchant. Third Young Master, are you going to make me your retainer?”

Li Xuanba said, “I’m still young and not qualified to take on retainers. But if you’re willing to help me, when the time comes I can take retainers, you’ll be one of them.”

Hearing Li Xuanba’s affirmation, Yan Zhen couldn’t smile anymore.

When they first met, Li Xuanba had seemed silent and stern, not childlike. But after a few more encounters, Yan Zhen realized that Li Xuanba was quite talkative and occasionally joked, so he felt comfortable speaking freely with him.

Still, Li Xuanba was young. Though Yan Zhen had heard of the Third Young Master’s scholarly reputation, he had thought Li Xuanba was just a prodigy in studies. He hadn’t expected Li Xuanba to actually intend to recruit him as a retainer.

Yan Zhen said solemnly, “If Third Young Master esteems me, I am willing to serve loyally. But… have you not reconsidered? Given your position, when you grow up it would be easy to select a literate youth from a modest family as your retainer.”

Li Xuanba replied, “I choose people not by family background, but by personal affinity.”

Yan Zhen was momentarily stunned, then gave a wry smile: “Affinity, not talent?”

Li Xuanba half-jokingly said, “You haven’t yet shown your talent. How could I judge it? So this time, I’m giving you a chance to demonstrate your strengths.”

Yan Zhen sighed and bowed: “I am humbled. But… please, Third Young Master, give me this opportunity!”

Li Xuanba said, “Very well. But first, write to your parents. If they believe ‘while parents live, do not travel far,’ then prioritize filial duty. I can find other work for you.”

Yan Zhen said, “My elder brother looks after my parents. Since I came to the Eastern Capital, my parents have joked that I might as well not exist and should seek my own path. If it really doesn’t work out, I’ll return, kowtow, and ask for a portion of the family property to do business. So Third Young Master, rest assured.”

Li Xuanba said, “Then come along. I’ll introduce you to the work you’ll do.”

Li Xuanba brought Yan Zhen to his own resting room in the printing workshop and handed him a scroll of manuscript.

The manuscript recorded information about the various countries in the South Seas.

Li Xuanba said, “His Majesty will soon send Agricultural Supervisor Chang Jun and Yu Department Officer Wang Junzheng as envoys to the Red Earth Country. I’ve arranged that you accompany them as a merchant and collect some local specialties along the way.”

The Red Earth Country corresponds to the Malay Peninsula in later times, i.e., Southeast Asia.

Yan Zhen had thought Li Xuanba wanted to collect traditional maritime goods like ivory and spices. But the items Li Xuanba marked in each country were actually crops still seen in the Sui dynasty—wheat, rice, sugarcane, and so on.

Yan Zhen asked curiously, “Third Young Master, may I know why you’ve chosen these specialties? So I know what standards to follow.”

Li Xuanba asked, “Your father farmed and studied. Have you worked the land with him?”

Yan Zhen said, “I have.”

Li Xuanba asked, “Do you know anything about breeding and selecting seeds?”

Yan Zhen thought for a moment, then exclaimed in realization: “You can’t keep using the same seeds from your own fields year after year; yields decrease over time. My father often exchanged seeds with nearby farmers, sometimes planting the same type collected from different places in one field. Third Young Master wants to introduce foreign seeds?”

Li Xuanba hadn’t expected Yan Zhen to hit the nail on the head. Clearly, Yan Zhen’s father’s ‘farming and studying’ wasn’t just for show—he was serious about agriculture.

Li Xuanba became somewhat curious about Yan Zhen’s father.

The son of a county magistrate was also from an official family and had married the daughter of a wealthy merchant, so the family’s resources were certainly sufficient. A person like that seriously studying agriculture—if nurtured properly—might even be able to write a treatise on farming.

Li Xuanba said, “I asked you to collect foreign crops because I wanted to experiment with crossbreeding them with crops from Central China to see if we could cultivate better varieties. Besides, some of their local specialty crops might also be transplantable to Central China.”

Although Li Xuanba had never personally farmed, he knew a little about farming from popular discussions online. He understood that the more diverse a country’s grain seeds were, the better—and that many high-yield crops were products of hybridization.

Although most of the famine-resistant, high-yield crops in later times came from the Americas, it would have been extremely difficult for him to seek them out unless his brother became emperor. Still, there were many crops from Southeast and South Asia that could be introduced.

For example, sugarcane and coarse cotton.

China had cultivated sugarcane very early on, but the technology for making sugar was underdeveloped, so sugarcane was mostly consumed by extracting the juice directly.

The varieties of sugarcane from Southeast and South Asia were superior, with higher juice yields and unique sugar-making techniques.

High-ranking officials in the Sui and Tang dynasties were all fond of sweets, and Emperor Taizong was no exception.

Emperor Taizong once sent people to India to obtain better sugarcane varieties and learn sugar-making techniques. After the “students” returned, Tang’s sugar-making technology quickly surpassed that of the Western Regions and India.

Li Xuanba took care of this for his brother first, so that by the time his brother could eat sugar, he would be tired of sweets and not crave them in old age.

The high blood pressure, high blood sugar, and diabetes in the Li family mostly came from indulgence in food. Li Xuanba truly worried about regulating his second brother’s diet.

Li Xuanba’s scientific literacy was not high. Even if he introduced crops from Southeast Asia, he could not make major breakthroughs in Tang agricultural technology.

Sending Yan Zhen to collect specialty crops from foreign lands was mostly a ruse—to create the appearance of concern for the state while simultaneously boosting his own reputation as a conscientious and patriotic figure.

Although in the future he would become a prince of the Tang, reputation in the Sui dynasty was irrelevant. But having a reputation for caring about the state would make it easier to recruit talent.

However, Li Xuanba sending Yan Zhen with the envoy to the Red Land Kingdom to collect specialty crops from the Eastern Sea nations was only the first step in his plan.

After Yan Zhen made several trips abroad, Li Xuanba would reveal his true intent, asking him to collect forbidden materials.

For example, weapons, armor, and horses.

The countries of the South Sea had long exchanged with Central China, and their iron-smelting technology had advanced; some horse breeds in Southeast and South Asia were comparable to those of the Western Regions; and in warship technology, the South Sea nations were far ahead.

At the beginning of the Tang dynasty, there would be a naval battle with Wa (Japan)—the Battle of Baijiangkou. Although this took place in Emperor Gaozong’s reign historically, Li Xuanba wanted to see if he could prepare Tang’s warships in advance, allowing his brother to strike the Japanese homeland before they provoked the Tang.

Historically, when Wa drew a map of the Tang dynasty, they shamelessly depicted Kyushu as Tang territory, even claiming themselves as Tang subjects.

Li Xuanba, being well-intentioned, wanted to correct their misunderstanding.

Other parts of Wa were too poor and distant, but Kyushu was quite good and could be allowed to join the Tang.

Since Li Xuanba’s transmigration, he had focused on himself and his immediate family.

Preparing for the Tang-Wa naval battle was currently the only great undertaking he could do that would benefit future generations.

Inventions like printing or collecting superior seeds, while beneficial in the present, had negligible impact on the overall course of Chinese history whether done sooner or later.

He would not tell Yan Zhen these objectives now.

Only if Yan Zhen successfully completed the current assignments and truly became a trusted confidant would Li Xuanba hand over the subsequent plans to him.

In the future, all of Li Xuanba’s confidants would be sent to sea for training.

Life on land was too stable; the sea would better temper one’s will.

Li Xuanba had low requirements for those who followed him—strong will mattered more than background or knowledge.

He was not even worried about subordinates being ambitious, because if they did harbor ambitions and tried to rebel during Taizong’s reign, it would just serve as a learning experience for them.

Li Xuanba would treat his subordinates well, fattening them up. If their ambitions became too great, he could just eliminate them, replenishing the Tang treasury, which was so poor in the early Tang that even rats caused trouble.

While Li Xuanba was explaining matters of the South Sea to Yan Zhen, a broad-shouldered, ruddy-faced man knocked at the door.

Li Xuanba opened the door, let him in, and said to Yan Zhen, “Go back and memorize this book thoroughly, and learn some of the South Sea languages from foreign residents. The envoy will depart soon. It’s better to cram than to know nothing.”

Yan Zhen joked, “Third Master should have told me earlier, to give me more preparation time.”

Li Xuanba said, “Consider this a test for you.”

Yan Zhen sighed, “Then I must work hard.”

After assigning the work, Li Xuanba left with the broad-shouldered man.

The man acted as a guard, driving the carriage for Li Xuanba.

Li Xuanba sat beside him, pretending to learn how to drive.

As he aged, he had to learn both horse-riding and carriage driving.

This broad-shouldered man had joined the Duke Tang Mansion during last year’s flood. He was skilled at driving carriages, so Li Xuanba brought him over specifically to teach himself and his second brother.

Once the carriage moved, the two drivers spoke quietly, so that even without barriers, others could barely hear.

Li Xuanba said, “Xiang Gu, thank you for your effort.”

Xiang Gu, still slightly fearful, said, “His Majesty was very angry.”

He informed Li Xuanba of events at the palace, asking, “Is it really okay to say this?”

From the moment Xiang Gu entered the Duke Tang Mansion, Li Xuanba had already discovered his identity.

Li Xuanba’s perception was sharp; Xiang Gu’s attempts at secret eavesdropping were immediately detected.

Li Xuanba did not expose him immediately, but instead located Xiang Gu’s family and brought them under his control.

Xiang Gu had believed himself an orphan, but in fact he had been separated from his family. They had fled the flood, and Li Xuanba had taken them in.

Later, Li Xuanba revealed the truth to Xiang Gu. Had he not found Xiang Gu’s family, he likely would have handed him over to his father for punishment.

Xiang Gu did not know how Li Xuanba had located his family. But now that his family was safe, even if he did not wish to serve Li Xuanba, Li Xuanba could reveal the truth and the emperor would no longer trust him.

Moreover, he had already been exposed. His end would either be at the hands of the emperor or at the hands of the Duke of Tang.

In the past, Xiang Gu was not afraid of death.

But now he had family—family who were still searching for him. After they thought he was dead, his family even fled with his memorial tablet. Xiang Gu suddenly had a weak spot.

Yang Guang placing spies in various households was just a trivial move. In truth, his control over these spies was extremely poor.

Whether nobles or old aristocratic families, they had just emerged from the chaos of the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties. Their mansions were filled with private soldiers, fortified like iron buckets. How could Yang Guang possibly gather any useful information?

Xiang Gu had originally intended to just give perfunctory reports, saying he had been sent far away by the Duke of Tang and could not overhear anything significant about the Duke’s household.

But Li Xuanba made him occasionally relay small domestic matters of the Duke of Tang’s household to the emperor. This way, it showed that he was indeed not trusted with important tasks and could not access core secrets, while also giving him a bit of presence in front of Yang Guang, to confuse the emperor’s judgment.

The messages Li Xuanba had Xiang Gu send to Yang Guang mostly concerned petty matters, like family favoritism or how strictly Li Yuan treated him and Li Shimin.

These pieces of information were harmless to the Duke of Tang’s household and useless to Yang Guang. Yang Guang only considered Xiang Gu a minor spy, reporting trivialities on schedule like the others, never suspecting that even these small details were being falsified.

This time, Li Xuanba instructed Xiang Gu to embellish the reports about punishments.

Xiang Gu asked curiously, “Master, you are so young—do you really intend to degrade yourself?”

Li Xuanba smiled: “It’s not self-degradation. It’s simply to let His Majesty know that if he wants to strike at the Duke of Tang’s household, he shouldn’t start with me or my second brother. We are mere pawns; striking at us would accomplish nothing. On the contrary, if he wants to split up the Duke of Tang’s household in the future, he will need to treat my brother and me well.”

Xiang Gu felt a chill run down his spine.

Could Third Young Master be thinking of competing with his elder brother for the position in the Duke of Tang’s household at such a young age?

Was he vying for the Duke of Tang’s inheritance on behalf of Second Young Master—or… no, Third Young Master and Second Young Master were very close; he would never harm him.

Xiang Gu suppressed his horrifying speculation.

Li Xuanba said, “I will send Yan Zhen with the envoy to the Chitu Kingdom on behalf of the Sui dynasty, to handle certain matters in the South Seas for me. If you are interested, you may come along.”

Xiang Gu replied, “I will follow Master’s arrangements.”

Li Xuanba shook his head: “I genuinely want to cultivate you. The Chitu Kingdom is far away, and even if the ship follows the coast, danger may still arise. If I sent you directly, I would worry you might suspect that I intend to get rid of you, so I asked for your own decision.”

Xiang Gu’s face turned uneasy: “N-no, how could I ever think so?”

Li Xuanba said, “In the future, all my people will make a voyage at sea. If you wish to go, you will come with me. If not, it’s fine—you can continue practicing horseback riding and archery and follow my second brother. Don’t worry, you’ve helped me greatly; I won’t treat you unfairly.”

Xiang Gu gritted his teeth and made his choice: “Please allow me to follow Master! I am willing to go to the South Seas!”

Although Xiang Gu’s heart leaned more toward Second Young Master, even though Third Young Master had given him the choice, how could he dare to choose otherwise?

Li Xuanba said, “Very well. Prepare yourself. You won’t get seasick, will you?”

Xiang Gu said, “I know how to swim.”

Li Xuanba replied, “Swimming is of no use at sea; just don’t get seasick.”

Li Xuanba then explained some precautions for the voyage: “Your mission will differ from Yan Zhen’s; I will tell you after we return.”

Li Xuanba knew that although he had given Xiang Gu a choice, Xiang Gu dared not decide for himself. But it didn’t matter—he had already given him the option. Xiang Gu’s own hesitation meant he would end up following Li Xuanba in the end.

If Xiang Gu had the courage to declare he would follow his second brother, Li Xuanba would have given him a chance.

Unfortunately, that chance was gone.

After returning home, Li Xuanba recounted the day’s events to Li Shimin, who was still lying prone.

Li Shimin exclaimed, “You really know how to brag—daring to say all this, and you’re not even disgusted?”

Li Xuanba: [The emperor himself is not disgusted, so why should I, the victim, be?]

Li Shimin asked, “Will it work? Will he sympathize with us and stop bothering us?”

Li Xuanba smiled: [Wait and see. I’m also curious what he will do.]

Not long after, Yang Guang stripped Li Xuanba of his official post.

He decreed that since Li Jiancheng, as the eldest legitimate son of the Duke of Tang’s household, had no official position, to maintain proper order among siblings, Li Jiancheng would take over Li Xuanba’s place in the music office.

To compensate Li Xuanba, both he and Li Shimin were promoted half a rank in the scattered officialdom.

Yang Guang also specially reminded Li Xuanba that “composing lyrics on imperial orders” remained his duty, but it was merely a request from elders to juniors, unrelated to ministerial affairs. He was told not to take it too seriously, treat it as a hobby, and not let it interfere with studies or damage his health.

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were still young boys. Even if Li Xuanba passed the imperial exam and Li Shimin hunted a tiger, their age and experience were limited.

Even if they were granted scattered official ranks due to Li Yuan’s achievements, and even if they became “dafu” of the fifth rank or above, others in court would not be particularly surprised.

Receiving office by paternal favor was normal—even direct grants of county or regional posts were not unusual.

But Yang Guang granting official positions to Li Shimin and Li Xuanba was not a reward for Li Yuan; it was purely in recognition of the two boys themselves. This was notable.

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba had just received ninth-rank scattered official posts, and within a month or two, they leaped to seventh-rank supervisors of Suide. Their promotion speed was unattainable for ordinary officials.

Previously, some had mocked Li Xuanba for “flaunting new talents.” Yang Guang first removed his office, then promoted him in scattered rank, immediately silencing the critics.

Thus, the court sighed again: the emperor had no intention of humiliating Li Xuanba; it was just coincidental.

Since Emperor Wu of Han established the office of Xielv Duyi (coordinator of music and rites), countless scholars from prestigious families held this position. Xielv ultimately involved composing music, which was inseparable from ritual—composing music was equivalent to establishing rites. It was not a trivial post.

The emperor didn’t seem to have thought too much about it; he only realized something was off after someone pointed it out.

Hmm… wait, if the emperor realized something was wrong, then why did he still let Li Jiancheng continue serving as Xielv Lang?!

People at court were confused.

Had the emperor realized it or not? Did he want to clarify, or confirm? Or did he think he had no ill intention, but others misunderstood his dissatisfaction with the Duke of Tang, so he deliberately let the Duke’s legitimate eldest son hold the position to show that he was upright and had no ill will?

Li Yuan felt a surge of blood clog in his throat.

He cursed, “How is this being upright? Clearly, he thinks the previous slap wasn’t enough and wants to further humiliate me!”

Li Shimin rolled his eyes.

“When they humiliated me and A-Xuan, you said it was our fault. Now that our elder brother is put in this position, why don’t you blame him? Father really is biased.”

Privately, Li Shimin whispered to Li Xuanba, “Father won’t be as biased in the future as Grandmother was, right?”

Li Xuanba said, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not the Duke of Tang anyway.”

Li Shimin pouted, “You should be comforting me, saying Father won’t be biased.”

Li Xuanba said, “The system of legitimate eldest sons inheriting titles is an obstacle you can’t bypass. It’s useless to worry about it now. Didn’t you say it yourself? Just do what you can.”

Li Shimin frowned, “But is that the same? It’s not! That’s Father… our Father…”

Li Xuanba said, “Ah, are you about to cry again?”

Li Shimin covered his eyes, rubbed them hard, then put his hands down, “I’m not crying.”

Seeing his second brother like this, Li Xuanba, who had wanted to make him less trusting of Li Yuan early on, felt a bit reluctant.

Li Xuanba comforted him, “But Father being angry this time isn’t because he’s biased toward our brother. Rather, His Majesty slapped our family twice—it’s even more humiliating.”

Li Shimin was at a loss for words.

After a while, he grabbed a cushion, hugged it, rolled back and forth on the seat, and groaned softly, “Ah!! His Majesty really… ah!!!!”

He rolled for a bit, sat up, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously, “This rotten cowardly Sui Dynasty, let’s rebel!”

Li Xuanba rolled his eyes at his second brother and, ignoring his nonsense, picked up his brush to continue writing the travel guide for Yan Zhen and Xiang Gu.

After venting quietly, Li Shimin positioned a cushion under his chest, wriggled like a caterpillar to the desk, and propped his chin on it: “Why do you care so much about barbarian lands?”

Li Xuanba, writing as he spoke, said, “Barbarian lands? Do you know about the Four Great Ancient Civilizations?”

Li Shimin said, “Every time you ask if I know something, it’s obvious I don’t. So why do you ask pointless questions?”

Li Xuanba’s brush made a dot of ink on the paper.

He looked at his second brother and rolled his eyes: “The world is vast. Although Great Tang stands at the top, other civilizations also have merits.”

Li Shimin said, “Great Tang doesn’t even exist yet. A-Xuan, shouldn’t you speak to me sincerely?”

“Oh.” Li Xuanba switched to telepathy. [Here, let me draw you a world map.]

Although Li Xuanba couldn’t draw a detailed map, the outline of the world map was fine.

He sketched a rough world map and marked the local specialties of different regions.

He wasn’t good at world history and didn’t know the development level of countries during Sui and Tang, so he could only infer based on descriptions from Western traders.

Moreover, given the technology level of Sui and Tang, there wouldn’t have been much contact with foreign lands anyway, so his current knowledge was sufficient.

Li Shimin’s eyes lit up: “The world is this big? I wish all of it belonged to us!”

Li Xuanba was about to explain why Tang’s territory couldn’t expand too much, but Li Shimin shook his head: “No, if the territory is too vast, it’s unmanageable. If the court issues edicts, and it takes months for messengers on fast horses to deliver them, then the land is nominally ours but practically autonomous. Forced control does more harm than good.”

Li Xuanba sighed.

Li Shimin asked curiously, “Why the sigh? You don’t want to let go of so much land? Don’t bite off more than you can chew—don’t be greedy.”

Li Xuanba shook his head and smiled: “People in later generations stand on the shoulders of their predecessors and can’t fully see the situation. They think that if you had an army, you could conquer the world.”

Li Shimin asked, “Has anyone unified the world in later generations?”

Li Xuanba shook his head: “Even later generations couldn’t do it.”

Li Shimin chuckled: “If even later generations can’t do it, why do they think their ancestors could? If the present is worse than the past, then future generations are too useless. They should be confident—they shouldn’t expect their ancestors to be better at things they themselves can’t do.”

Li Xuanba gave his second brother a thumbs up: “I need to remember that line.”

Li Shimin said, “Go ahead and remember it.”

He sat up and stretched lazily: “Even if we can’t conquer the world, there are other ways to serve my Central Plains. Someday, let’s go overseas—I want to see how vast the world really is!”

Li Xuanba’s expression darkened: “I don’t think you’ll succeed.”

Li Shimin smiled, saying nothing.

They already had an unspoken understanding about some things, but Li Shimin didn’t want to voice it or ask questions.

He was still young; there was no need to think so far ahead. He just wanted to enjoy each day happily.

Let future worries be handled by his future self.

If there are no troubles around him now, why trouble himself unnecessarily?

“Quick, tell me about the South Sea!” Li Shimin urged. “You’ve piqued my interest, I want to send people there too. What about Brother Du and Brother Fang?”

Li Xuanba twitched at the corner of his mouth: “They’re not your subordinates yet. Don’t force them to resent you in the future.”

“Hahahahaha!” Li Shimin laughed heartily.

Li Xuanba sighed, speechless.

Their second brother was still so young, yet already had a habit of bullying his “ministers”?

The child’s character is set by age three; my second brother at nine is already hopeless.

Hopeless, can’t save him—let him face death. Farewell.

Li Xuanba’s lips curved in a smile: “But we can at least ask if they’re interested. They’re not likely to catch the emperor’s attention now, won’t hold high office. Better to wander outside for a while than waste ten-plus years at home.”

Li Shimin grabbed his brother’s shoulders and winked: “Come, let’s discuss how to trick them.”

The two faces, looking almost identical, broke into the same mischievous grin.