Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Counterattack (Part One)

If it were another occasion, and she could be the center of attention among the ministers as she was now, Wu Meiniang’s heart would surely be ablaze with pride, for this was the goal she had always pursued. Yet at this very moment, the scrutiny of the ministers felt as if her heart were aflame, unable to erupt but stifling all the same. The heat within her surged uncontrollably, her expression remained composed, but her eyes flickered with sharp brilliance—like flashes of lightning and thunder heralding an impending storm.

Wu Meiniang had always prided herself on her skillful use of conversation to steer the course of events. Whether it was winning favor in the harem or using trusted allies like Li Yifu to strike at political foes, she had never failed. From the initial rivals, Empress Wang and Consort Xiao, to her most recent adversary, Shangguan Yi, each had been defeated decisively. But today, her tactic not only failed to achieve its purpose, it was turned against her—and by Li Xian, someone she had never considered significant. This, above all, infuriated her.

Though Li Xian was her own son, Wu Meiniang had rarely paid him much attention. In her eyes, he was an unremarkable, incapable child, lacking in both temperament and talent; to call him mediocre would not be an exaggeration. Even when he showed ferocity during the previous case of the imperial prison, Wu Meiniang dismissed it as the influence of his ambitious and capable younger brother, Li Xian. Thus, all her arrangements centered on Li Xian, never expecting that Li Xian, whom she considered insignificant, would deliver her such a shocking “surprise.”

The purpose of killing the chicken is not for the chicken itself, but to warn the monkey. In Wu Meiniang’s plan, the young eunuch Zhang Dekai was the “chicken,” as was her supposedly incompetent son Li Xian. Killing these two “chickens” was meant to serve as a warning to the unruly “monkey,” Li Xian. The arrangement was sound enough; barring any unforeseen events, Li Xian would surely quiet down for a time, giving Wu Meiniang the opportunity she needed to recover from the losses and mitigate the negative impact of the imperial prison case. However, plans always fail to keep pace with change. The “chicken,” Li Xian, showed no awareness of his role and instead stirred up trouble, turning what should have been a perfect situation into a mess, leaving Wu Meiniang, the “chef,” at a loss.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness the Empress, we humble ministers are ashamed.”

In the midst of a strange silence, Xu Jingzong, the attendant who had stood quietly by, suddenly stepped forward, bowed to the Emperor and Empress, and sighed.

“What prompts you to say this, Prime Minister Xu?” Wu Meiniang, uncertain how to respond to the Emperor's question—she did not wish to allow Li Xian to practice martial arts, but could not find a suitable reason to oppose him—felt caught in a dilemma. Seeing Xu Jingzong step forward, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief and quickly spoke, before the Emperor could reply.

“The Prince of Lu spoke truly: Our Great Tang is surrounded by unrest, with frequent wars. As ministers, we have failed to secure the nation, so much so that the prince must practice martial arts to defend it. We are remiss, deeply ashamed.” Xu Jingzong, a seasoned minister of three reigns, was sharp-minded and clearly understood Wu Meiniang’s intent. By feigning remorse, he cleverly closed off the excuse for Li Xian to practice martial arts—the underlying message being: permitting Li Xian to do so signals imperial dissatisfaction with the ministers’ incompetence. In other words, granting Li Xian permission would be an indictment of the ministers’ abilities. Such a heavy charge was more than the Emperor, lacking in wisdom, could bear; even an enlightened ruler like Taizong would hesitate to accept it lightly.

“Prime Minister Xu is devoted to the country and has rendered great service; you must not blame yourself so.” Wu Meiniang’s mind was meticulous, far beyond ordinary. She immediately grasped the true meaning of Xu Jingzong’s words. After consoling him, she wasted no time and, before the Emperor could speak, threw out her trump card: “Your Majesty, I recall that when Taizong was alive, the deposed Crown Prince Li Chengqian once requested to join the battle, and Taizong replied: ‘This is not something for children to intervene in.’ That scene remains vivid in my memory. Does Your Majesty recall?”

“Ah, this, this...” The Emperor’s agreement to Li Xian’s request was driven purely by paternal affection, not a deep consideration. Xu Jingzong’s intervention revealed deeper implications. Moreover, when the deposed Crown Prince Li Chengqian requested to join the battle, the Emperor had served at Taizong’s side and knew well that Taizong had indeed replied thus. Ever proud of his filial devotion, the Emperor did not wish to contradict Taizong’s will, though he sensed that the matter was not as grave as Xu Jingzong made it out to be. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

What a cunning old fox—he bites hard! Li Xian was well aware of Xu Jingzong’s intractability, but never expected him to be so relentless. Watching the situation he had painstakingly cultivated shattered by Xu Jingzong’s few words, Li Xian grew anxious, but he knew now was not the time to panic. Only calmness could yield a solution. Thus, as Xu Jingzong and Wu Meiniang played their duet, Li Xian suppressed his irritation and his mind raced, preparing his response while the Emperor hesitated.

“Father, I have something to say, though I am unsure if it is appropriate.” Before the Emperor could respond, Li Xian stepped forward and spoke loudly.

“My son, speak freely. I am listening.” The Emperor, lacking in decisiveness, was unsure how to handle the joint pressure from Xu Jingzong and Wu Meiniang. Li Xian’s interruption was a welcome diversion.

“Father, the sages have said: ‘It is rare for a man to live to seventy.’ This means that human life is limited and difficult to extend. Though our generals are many, most are already of advanced age: Li Ji, General Li, is seventy; Su Dingfang, General Su, is seventy-two; Liu Rengui, Judge Liu, is sixty-three; Xue Rengui, General Xue, though younger, is over fifty. These are the heroes who lead our armies, but where are their successors? Though there are promising young talents like Cheng Wuting, most lack experience and may not carry such great responsibility. Is our realm truly at peace? No. To the west, Tibet watches like a tiger; to the north, the Turks threaten; to the south, the Dong Liao stir trouble; to the east, Goguryeo remains rampant. Though none are mortal threats, they are persistent as maggots in the bone, hard to dispel. If we do not prioritize military affairs, how can the land be at peace? I am unworthy, and even if I practice martial arts, I may not succeed. Yet, as a son of the imperial family, my pursuit of martial prowess may serve as an example to the court and nation. If this can ease my father’s burden even a little, I dare not shirk. I humbly beg for your grace, Father!” Li Xian bowed calmly, speaking fluently and persuasively, citing examples and expressing sincere intent. His words stirred all who listened.

“Father, Seventh Brother’s loyalty to the court is clear; I am deeply moved and beg you to grant his wish to serve.” As soon as Li Xian finished, Li Xian immediately stood up in full support.

“Father, I believe Seventh Brother’s intent is noble; let him try.” Crown Prince Li Hong, having previously failed to win Li Xian over, had grown indifferent to him. Earlier, when Li Xian was under attack, Li Hong made no move to help. However, seeing his two brothers openly challenge Wu Meiniang, Li Hong’s stance shifted. Compared to sibling rivalry, he was more wary of Wu Meiniang’s interference in politics, so he was glad to see her thwarted. If Wu Meiniang were to be locked in conflict with Li Xian and Li Xian from then on, it would suit Li Hong perfectly. Thus, he unhesitatingly stepped forward to support Li Xian.

With Li Hong and Li Xian taking the stage, the situation gradually evolved into the three princes confronting Wu Meiniang. The ministers looked on dumbfounded, each harboring their own thoughts but none daring to speak out at such a sensitive moment. All silently chose to observe, even Xu Jingzong, the steadfast supporter of the Empress, kept his mouth shut and watched from the sidelines.

“Very well. Since Xian has such resolve, how could I not support him? I grant his request!” The Emperor, always swayed by emotion, was moved by Li Xian’s passionate speech and the support of his other two sons. His spirits soared, and without further hesitation, he struck his palm and agreed to Li Xian’s pursuit of martial arts.

“Your Majesty, Xian’s loyalty is commendable. This matter should be announced to the world by imperial edict, so as not to let Xian’s filial devotion go unrecognized.” Seeing the Emperor grant Li Xian’s request, a shadow flashed across Wu Meiniang’s face. She pursed her lips and suddenly, with a smile, interjected.

“Excellent, very good! Meiniang’s suggestion pleases me greatly. I shall have an edict drafted and proclaim it to the realm, to promote the martial spirit of our Great Tang!” The Emperor, having granted Li Xian’s request out of impulse and oblivious to Wu Meiniang’s opinion, had worried she might take offense. Hearing her speak thus, he was overjoyed and readily agreed.

Announce to the world? Ha, another trap set for me—how interesting! Li Xian’s mind was keen; he immediately understood Wu Meiniang’s intention. Martial prowess may secure the nation, but it cannot ensure peaceful governance. By making Li Xian a model of martial ambition, she meant to exclude him from the line of succession. If his pursuit of martial arts was mere pretense, he would eventually slip, and when that happened, even without the Empress intervening, the censors’ impeachment would be enough to put him in hot water.

“I thank Father and Mother for their great kindness. I shall study diligently and strive not to disappoint their expectations.” Though Li Xian saw through Wu Meiniang’s malicious intent, he paid it no mind, for this was a pretext for his own independence. He bowed in thanks without hesitation.

“Good, Xian’s dedication merits reward. Let us conclude today’s affairs here.” Seeing that all was settled, the Emperor was eager to return to the palace for rest and spoke a closing remark.

“Your Majesty, wait! Your humble servant has a memorial to submit!” Before the Emperor could rise, someone suddenly stepped out, knelt before the throne, and announced loudly. Everyone looked and saw that the intruder was Yuan Wanqing, leaving them all stunned…