LFHYB -Chapter 78 Closing His Eyes at the Height of the Sui Dynasty

This entire journey had been very taxing for Li Yuan as well.

He had fought on the battlefield alongside other veteran generals and endured rain of arrows, but he had never suffered so greatly.

Although the Crown Prince had made preparations, the strong winds and hail made visibility extremely poor. Li Yuan almost got lost and only barely found the main army again.

Most of the guards who froze to death perished while lost.

Li Yuan was very relieved that Li Jiancheng had not come along this time.

He briefly told his two sons about the Crown Prince’s condition, then without changing clothes or taking a bath, he collapsed onto his bed and quickly began snoring.

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba had the servants help Li Yuan change and remove his boots, but his snoring did not stop; he slept soundly.

After leaving, Li Xuanba held Hangu and preened his feathers, his expression heavy.

Wu Di kept nudging Li Xuanba with his head, but Li Xuanba did not respond.

Although Li Shimin also felt heavy-hearted, he still joked to tease his brother: “Why do you look so sad? So you were really close to the Crown Prince, huh?”

Li Xuanba remained silent for a long time. Only when Wu Di nudged Hangu off Li Xuanba’s lap, and then poked his chin with his beak, did Li Xuanba speak in his mind: [Most historical records were written centuries later. By the time they were written, earlier sources may have been lost in wars, so events recorded in history books are not necessarily accurate. The only thing certain in history books is usually the posthumous evaluation of historical figures.]

Li Shimin knew that the “historical record” Li Xuanba referred to was actually the “Book of Heaven.”

He said, “Didn’t you already know about this? Prophecies cannot be taken literally. And even if the prophecy is true, the future changes depending on the actions of those who know it. Why are you thinking about this now?”

Li Xuanba held Wu Di’s mischievous head with one hand, and comforted Hangu, who was snuggling beside him and squeaking pitifully, with the other.

[The Zizhi Tongjian states: In July, entering autumn, Emperor Yang of Sui returned east from Zhangye. When passing through Dàdòu Bá Valley, he encountered snow and wind so severe that over half the soldiers froze to death, and eight or nine out of ten horses and donkeys perished.]

[I knew of this, and had planned to tell the Crown Prince and father only after they arrived in Zhangye. Only upon arriving in Zhangye could I learn how variable the weather in Dàdòu Bá Valley could be.]

[Second Brother, if Father had died in that snowstorm, would you…]

Li Shimin patted Li Xuanba’s head firmly.

Li Xuanba covered his head with both hands. “Ouch.”

Li Shimin frowned. “Did you summon this weather? Was it your plan to march forcibly? Do you think I am unreasonable? You only told me these things about the future because you trust me, right?”

Li Xuanba lowered his head. “Sigh… I know. I just sometimes let my mind wander.”

Li Shimin said, “You didn’t tell the Crown Prince or Father, yet the Crown Prince still noticed the unusual weather and warned Your Majesty. What use would it have been if you had told them in advance?”

Li Xuanba thought for a moment, then said, “The use is that I tried. Even if this event happens again in the future, I won’t take the blame.”

Li Shimin: “….” He was a little reluctant to comfort his troubled younger brother.

Li Shimin said, “Now, you don’t have to take the blame. It’s not your fault.”

Li Xuanba sighed again.

Fortunately, Li Yuan was unharmed.

He could not die now. If he died, Li Jiancheng would become Duke of Tang.

The Sui Dynasty fell too quickly. At that time, he and Second Brother were too young to have their own private forces. If Li Jiancheng became Duke of Tang, they couldn’t even keep the properties they held.

Moreover, Li Xuanba had to admit that in his heart, he didn’t want Li Yuan to die either.

His parents in his previous life had been far worse—so much worse than Li Yuan. Back then, he never wished for them to die.

Li Shimin patted his brother’s head again. “The Crown Prince is only sick. It may not be serious.”

Li Xuanba said, “I really wasn’t worried about the Crown Prince.”

Li Shimin: “Good. You weren’t worried. Now rest a little. Tomorrow we’ll visit the Crown Prince.”

He picked up Wu Di, who had been causing trouble in Li Xuanba’s lap, and called Hangu, who was still sulking.

Wu Di obediently nestled in Li Shimin’s arm. Hangu tucked in his wings like a walking chicken and waddled after Li Shimin out of the study.

Li Xuanba leaned back onto the couch and sighed.

He closed his eyes, recalling this part of the record, finally understanding why this segment of history had been inaccurately recorded.

Sima Guang mentioned this account in Zizhi Tongjian Kao Yi. In the Di Ji (Imperial Records), it says the incident happened on the eighth day of the sixth month, while Yang Guang was on his way to Zhangye.

However, Sima Guang believed that even if the west was cold, it would be impossible for snow to fall and freeze people and livestock to death in the height of June, so he suspected an error in the record. In fact, it was likely that those who froze to death were people on Yang Guang’s return trip from Zhangye back to Daxing, passing through the Da Dou Ba Gu Valley again. By then it was already July, entering autumn, when frostbite deaths were far more plausible.

Thus, in Zizhi Tongjian, he recorded the event as having occurred in July.

People of the Song dynasty could only imagine the northwest for their whole lives. Sima Guang did not know that Da Dou Ba Gu was around 4,000 meters above sea level, or that the winds and hail in the mountains were not snowstorms, but freezing rain mixed with ice pellets.

Yang Guang also did not realize that the valley floor in the northwest could be scorching in summer while the mountaintops were in winter. The guards and palace maids with him were still dressed in thin summer clothes.

At an altitude of 4,000 meters, extreme weather in midsummer could indeed be fatal.

Although Yang Guang wore thin clothing when ascending, his caravan—like a traveling palace—was stocked with enough clothes, charcoal, and food. Even in a full-blown snowstorm, he would not die.

It was only the guards who froze to death.

Thanks to the Crown Prince’s advice and precautions, only about one-tenth of the men died this time.

Yet Yang Guang was not happy.

He did not know that most of the guards he brought would freeze to death. All he knew was that, by not heeding the Crown Prince’s advice, a tenth of the guards had died, and many of the consorts, concubines, and princesses traveling with him had fallen ill from the cold.

As emperor, Yang Guang could not afford to make mistakes.

At that time, his refusal to listen to the Crown Prince was also because of the principle that “an emperor cannot err.”

Though the Han dynasty concept of cosmic response to the emperor’s virtue was no longer state orthodoxy, many still believed in it.

If an impossible extreme weather event occurred—like snow in midsummer—it must be a sign of the emperor’s misrule.

When Yang Zhao advised Yang Guang that local people warned of strong winds and hail in Da Dou Ba Gu, Yang Guang’s first reaction was that someone was spreading false rumors to deceive the people and should be executed.

Snow and hail in midsummer? And it just happened when he was passing through Da Dou Ba Gu?

In Yang Guang’s mind, this was not a “weather issue” but a “political issue,” a “conspiracy” meant to undermine his prestige.

Even assuming extreme weather did occur, he still had to cross Da Dou Ba Gu to demonstrate his fearlessness.

Seeing Yang Guang enraged by the hailstorm, Yu Shiji, after several discussions with the ailing Crown Prince Yang Zhao, told Yang Guang: “This midsummer hail must be caused by evil spirits. Luckily, the Crown Prince foresaw it and prepared in advance. Your Majesty, with the might of the Great Sui, broke through the barrier of these malevolent forces, protecting our army completely.”

Yang Guang was overjoyed: “Minister Yu speaks excellently!”

He then summoned sorcerers to treat the Crown Prince, the consorts, and the princesses. The sorcerers claimed it was the ghost of Yang Yong causing the storm. The hail was Yang Yong’s doing, and the sickness of the Crown Prince and other royals was also his work.

When Li Xuanba went to visit Yang Zhao, he heard about this.

Yang Zhao sighed deeply: “Wouldn’t it have been better if the Tuqiu Hun Khan, in a desperate bid, had summoned his tribal shamans to obstruct the Sui emperor’s personal expedition?”

When he asked Yu Shiji to report, he had chosen exactly this excuse. But his father did not use the excuse he had chosen; instead, he used the ghost of his long-dead uncle as a shield.

Li Xuanba said, “Perhaps Your Majesty not only sought an excuse, but was also half-convinced that ghosts were at work.”

Yang Zhao coughed violently, as if trying to expel his lungs.

He forced a bitter smile: “Indeed, Father may really have believed it was the work of ghosts. He still did not trust the locals—he truly did not realize how cold the high mountains in the northwest could be in midsummer.”

Li Xuanba said: “Cousin, don’t worry. Rest well.”

Li Shimin said: “Yes, cousin, you will get better.”

Yang Zhao shook his head and coughed again, heavily.

He held a handkerchief to his mouth. The fabric was stained with layers of old and fresh blood, forming dark and bright red blotches, like stones glowing red under the sunset.

Li Xuanba watched the bloodstains and slightly curled the fingers resting on his knee.

When the pulmonary capillaries rupture, one coughs up blood—this was already severe pneumonia.

“I know my own body. Only now do I regret not heeding Dade’s advice to stay in the capital,” Yang Zhao wiped the blood from his mouth, seeming a bit relieved, speaking more smoothly, “But it’s too late to dwell on that. Cousins, I ask a favor of you.”

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba exchanged glances.

Li Shimin said: “Cousin, speak. If it is within our power and does not harm our interests, we will do it.”

Yang Zhao smiled: “You are sincere and honest, without a trace of deceit. It is precisely for this that I am at ease. I hope you will properly guide A-Hai, so that he may become Crown Prince before my son grows up.”

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were slightly surprised. But upon reflection, they understood Yang Zhao’s reasoning.

Yang Zhao himself then explained: “My father favors my eldest legitimate son, Yang Tan. Considering Father’s capricious nature, he might try to bypass all his sons and make Yang Tan Crown Prince.”

“A-Hai is already past twenty and holds considerable power at court. If I don’t survive this, he becomes Father’s eldest legitimate son; the third son is only two, but when Yang Tan grows up, so will he. As a prince, he cannot help but have expectations for the throne.”

“Yang Tan is not only one generation junior to A-Hai and the third son, but among his peers, his younger brother You’er is the true eldest. You’er’s mother comes from the prestigious Jingzhao Wei clan, with her family’s support. Yang Tan’s mother is deceased and was only a commoner.”

“Father also loves A-Hai. But A-Hai’s character is like Father’s—equally capricious. If he were just a prince, it might be fine, but as heir apparent, Father would never tolerate A-Hai’s flamboyant personality.”

Yang Zhao’s eyes glazed slightly, as if the figures of his brother and sons appeared before him.

“Please tell A-Hai that the Crown Prince is born with only half the power of the emperor. He must always be cautious and low-key, so as not to make the emperor feel threatened. Remember, remember—only then can he secure his position as Crown Prince.”

“If A-Hai is made Crown Prince before my children and my third brother, then as long as my children and my third brother do not rebel, their lives will be spared.”

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba listened to Yang Zhao’s heartfelt words—words they really shouldn’t have been hearing as outsiders—and felt their hearts heavy with complicated emotions.

They both understood the unspoken implications in Yang Zhao’s words.

If Yang Xian, who should naturally inherit the Crown Prince’s position, did not become Crown Prince, then Yang Zhao’s son would have to contend with his uncles, possibly even killing relatives—and perhaps even killing each other.

Yang Zhao would rather see his children forgo the throne than risk their lives.

Li Shimin lowered his head in silence.

The Crown Prince had planned for everything, yet he could never have predicted that, in just fifteen years, his father would let the mighty Sui Dynasty collapse.

Before his brothers or sons even had a chance to turn on each other, the Sui Dynasty was already gone.

Li Xuanba said, “If we can, we will persuade them.”

Li Shimin nodded in agreement. “Yes.”

Yang Zhao smiled faintly. “Your words alone are enough. If, in the end, you cannot persuade them, you must at least protect yourselves. Do not get entangled in the struggle for the throne. By staying neutral and in high positions, you might at least help preserve a thread of my bloodline. Any one of Tan’er, Tong’er, or You’er—whether commoner or exiled—just let them live, and that will be enough.”

When Yang Zhao realized he might not survive, he had already prepared for the worst: the complete end of his lineage.

As long as his father did not allow his second brother to succeed to the Crown Prince position according to the usual rules, his sons would inevitably be drawn into the succession struggle. Based on the brutal fights for the throne among uncles and elders, the losers would surely be exterminated.

His sons were too young. Even if they succeeded in the succession, they would likely only be puppets. Then the disaster of the Sui replacing the Northern Zhou could happen again.

Yang Zhao was extremely clever—too clever. This made him utterly despairing about the future after his death.

Li Xuanba said, “Alright, I promise you. If what you fear comes to pass, I will do everything I can to preserve at least one of your bloodline, and ensure he lives in wealth and comfort until the end of his life.”

Li Shimin’s brow twitched.

Yang Zhao suddenly propped himself up: “You actually promised?”

Li Xuanba said, “Cousin, since you asked this of me, I had no choice but to agree.”

Yang Zhao closed his eyes, tears spilling from the corners: “Dade… Cousin, I apologize again for having wrongly suspected you before.”

He had thought that Li Xuanba and Li Shimin might reluctantly agree, perhaps doing what they could to save his bloodline if circumstances allowed—that alone would have been the limit.

In fact, he had entrusted this matter to more than just Li Xuanba and Li Shimin. Anyone who came to visit him and whom he could trust with their character had been entrusted with the care of his children.

The struggle for succession was dangerous: whoever seized power could wipe out the others. Yang Zhao did not trust anyone to risk their own safety just to save his children, but as a father, he had to do something for them. So he cast a wide net—any chance was worth taking.

All who heard his entrustment either spoke vaguely or did not dare comfort him, only telling him to “rest easy” and that “your illness will get better.”

Only his cousin Li Xuanba—whom he had once misjudged as “scheming and secretive”—actually agreed.

And Li Xuanba’s promise was not merely that his descendants would survive, but that they would live in wealth and comfort until the end.

“Cousin…” Yang Zhao could not help but embrace Li Xuanba, sobbing.

Li Xuanba reached out to pat the parts of Yang Zhao’s back he could not reach: “Cousin, you’ve helped me so much; this is what I should do.”

Li Xuanba thought: [Give the Crown Prince some comfort. He really has helped us a great deal. And we should fulfill our promise.]

Li Shimin: “…Hmm.”

Yang Zhao wept, “Thank you… thank you…”

Li Xuanba persuaded Yang Zhao to lie down again, spoke with him briefly, and then left with Li Shimin.

After they left, Yang Zhao exhaled a long sigh.

He called his trusted attendant: “Tell Father everything that happened by my bedside today, word for word.”

The attendant hesitated, “Even your worries about the succession struggle?”

Yang Zhao gritted his teeth. “Tell him everything!”

After speaking, as if using his last ounce of strength, his voice barely audible: “Father, this is my final counsel… Please… please, listen…”

On the 17th day of the sixth month in the fifth year of the Daye era, Crown Prince Yang Zhao of Sui fell into a high fever and lost consciousness, dying amid the shouts of exorcists.

On the same day, Emperor Yang Guang of Sui arrived at Yanzhi Mountain to meet the kings and envoys of twenty-seven Western Regions states.

Yang Guang ordered the noble women of Wuwei and Zhangye to dress magnificently and line the roads for the occasion. Local authorities inspected their attire and carriages; if anything was not splendid or proper, they were forced to change.

The Western kings and envoys wore gold and jade, singing and dancing, presenting treasures.

The carriages of the noblewomen sent to observe the meeting, as ordered by Yang Guang, blocked the roads for dozens of miles. The Western kings and envoys, seeing the women’s beauty and luxurious garments and carriages, praised the power of the Sui Dynasty.

When Yang Zhao closed his eyes in pain, Yang Guang was joyfully receiving the thousands of miles of land offered by the Western kings and envoys.

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba had been called to accompany Yang Guang. But Li Xuanba was ill at the time, so they did not attend the event, only learning later about the grand land-offering ceremony.

“A-Xuan, of the several thousand miles of land nominally offered to Sui, how much will actually fall into Sui’s hands?”

“Who knows? In any case, Sui’s strength is at its peak right now.”

“Oh.”

“A-Xuan, how is our cousin, the Crown Prince? When we left, he seemed stable. Knowing today’s events, he would have been very pleased. Perhaps feeling happy, he might even recover some health.”

“I don’t know. Too far away—how would I know?”

“Sigh…”