Chapter Three: A World Divided by Life and Death (Part Two)

Emperor Gaozong of Tang, Li Zhi, lived a life of indulgence and was ceaseless in his pursuit of women, yet his offspring were not numerous; in all, he fathered eight sons and four daughters. Among them, Princess Anding met the most tragic fate—barely a month old, she was strangled to death by Empress Wu, who then used her as a pawn to frame Empress Wang. The eldest son, Li Zhong, had been deposed as Crown Prince in the sixth year of Yonghui and only months ago had been ordered to die. Excluding Princess Taiping, who had not yet been born, there now remained only seven sons and two daughters, most of them born to Empress Wu—the fifth son, Li Hong, aged fourteen; the sixth, Li Xian, aged twelve; the seventh, Li Xian, aged ten; and the eighth, Li Xu Lun, not yet three. Of all the sons, the most gifted was Li Xian—the sixth son, styled Mingyun, possessed a keen intelligence from a young age: he could write essays at five, compose poetry at seven, and had an extraordinary memory. The ministers greatly praised him for his talent, yet his temperament was too forceful, his tolerance limited, and he would always voice his displeasure at any injustice.

Although Li Xian was highly talented for his age, Li Xian had never liked this brother of his, whether in his previous life or in this one. Every meeting between them ended in discord, and it was almost always the overbearing Li Xian who stirred up conflict. Yet, in the end, it was usually the weaker Li Xian who suffered for it. In the past, if Li Xian scolded him like this, Li Xian would never back down and would retort, resulting in a quarrel that left the less eloquent Li Xian in tears. But today, Li Xian’s mind was troubled, and he had no heart for bickering. Nor did he wish to stir up any trouble at this moment. He simply nodded lightly, walked over to Li Hong’s couch, and stood by quietly, as if he had not heard Li Xian’s rebuke at all.

“Hmph! Caught a chill, did you? That’s just laziness. If you know you’re weak, why don’t you exercise? Useless!”

Seeing Li Xian remain silent, Li Xian felt as if he had punched the air—his disappointment deepened, and his face darkened. He glared at Li Xian and continued to berate him relentlessly.

How tedious! The current Li Xian was no longer the boy he once was. With memories of three lifetimes, how could he be provoked by such childish squabbles? He didn’t even bother to glance at Li Xian, standing calmly in place, unmoved.

“Sixth Brother, how can you speak so? Seventh Brother is unwell; as his elders, we should be more considerate.”

Li Xian said nothing, but Li Hong, reclining on his couch, could not bear it. Li Hong had always been frail, often bedridden, and the last thing he could tolerate was being called “weak.” Hearing Li Xian’s words, it was clear he was being swept into the same category. Though Li Hong was gentle by nature, he could not let this pass. With a frown, he spoke with a hint of displeasure.

“The Crown Prince is right, but Seventh Brother has always been lazy. As his brothers, we must admonish him; otherwise, it would reflect poorly on the imperial family.” Now that Li Hong had spoken, Li Xian realized he had been inappropriate. Yet, stubborn by nature, he would not apologize. Moreover, he looked down on the sickly Crown Prince and refused to yield, so he replied forcefully.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

Li Hong was no good at arguing. Hearing Li Xian’s words grow more and more unreasonable, his displeasure rose, bringing a flush to his face, and he began to cough uncontrollably.

Quarreling again! What is there to quarrel about? Sigh, what can you possibly gain? In the end, won’t you both be sent to your deaths by a single cup of poisoned wine from Mother? And then, it will all benefit that boy Li Dan! Li Xian had no desire to be drawn into his brothers’ dispute. Besides, he had yet to decide his own path forward; now was no time to waste on squabbles. Yet, thinking of his brothers’ eventual tragic ends, so similar to his own, pity stirred within him. Shaking his head with a bitter smile, he stepped forward and said, “Crown Prince, Sixth Brother only means well. I will take your advice to heart and strive to improve.”

“To have faults and correct them, to have none and be encouraged? Well said! Zengzi once said, ‘Each day I examine myself thrice.’ That is precisely the meaning. Seventh Brother, your studies have improved lately—very good!” Li Hong, always studious, was first surprised by Li Xian’s words, then clapped his hands in approval, forgetting his earlier argument with Li Xian. “To have faults and correct them, to have none and be encouraged” is from Zhu Xi’s later Song dynasty “Collected Annotations”—at this time, not only Zhu Xi but even his great-great-grandfather had not been born yet. For Li Xian, whose studies had always been mediocre, to utter such words was indeed refreshing.

Damn, I’ve let it slip! Hearing Li Hong’s praise, Li Xian was at first stunned, then realized he had borrowed from later generations. Embarrassed, he quickly replied, “Crown Prince flatters me. I am ashamed, truly ashamed.”

Even Li Xian did not expect his usually mediocre brother to say something so philosophical. He raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth as if to retort, but found himself at a loss. He could only shake his sleeves in frustration, his face sullen, and ignored Li Hong and Li Xian’s cheerful exchange.

“Correct, correct, strive, strive…”

Li Xian quieted down, but little Li Xu Lun, cradled in his nursemaid’s arms, became excited, waving his hands and feet and babbling. His delight made his brothers burst into laughter, and the tense atmosphere in the hall melted away.

“You lot…”

The princes’ laughter was so loud that Emperor Li Zhi, pacing in the rear hall, was immediately alerted. He turned to see his sons laughing heartily, suspicion rising in his heart. He was about to ask what was happening when a palace maid rushed in, breathless, exclaiming, “A princess is born! Congratulations, Your Majesty, mother and daughter are both safe!”

“Ah…”

Li Zhi spun around in shock and joy, staring at the breathless maidservant with his mouth wide open. After a long daze, he burst into laughter, saying, “Good, they’re safe! Since both mother and daughter are safe, I shall name the little princess ‘Taiping’ and declare a general amnesty across the empire. Someone, draw up the edict, quickly!”

“Congratulations, Father!”
“Congratulations, Father!”
…

The three princes, elated at gaining a new sister, saw their father’s joy and dared not delay, crowding forward to offer their congratulations.

A general amnesty? Why such urgency? Oh, so that’s it! Following his brothers, Li Xian congratulated his father, but his mind was already working. He soon surmised the true purpose behind his father’s actions—it was all for one man: Shangguan Yi, Vice Minister of the Secretariat.

Shangguan Yi, a native of Shan County, was born in Jiangdu. His father, Shangguan Hong, had served as Vice Supervisor of the Jiangdu Palace but died in the chaos caused by Yuwen Huaji. Shangguan Yi, still a child, survived by hiding. Growing older, he studied Buddhist texts, mastering the “Three Treatises” and dabbling in classics and history, excelling at literary composition. In the first year of Zhenguan under Emperor Taizong (627), he was recommended by Yang Ren Gong, then Chief Secretary of the Grand Governor’s Office in Yangzhou, to take the metropolitan examination in Chang’an. Shangguan Yi succeeded with two policy essays, “On Seeking Worthy Men” and “On Severity and Leniency in Punishment,” and was appointed Academician at the Hongwen Academy, later promoted to Registrar at the Imperial Library. When Emperor Gaozong ascended the throne, Shangguan Yi was made Palace Attendant to the Crown Prince in the first year of Xianqing (656), Instructor-in-Chief in the fourth year (660), Vice Minister of the Secretariat in the first year of Longshuo (661), and Yellow Gate Attendant and Chancellor in the second year (662).

Shangguan Yi was exceptionally talented and upright, daring to admonish the emperor. In the first year of the Linde era, while Empress Wu was pregnant and recuperating in the palace, Shangguan Yi secretly memorialized Emperor Gaozong, warning that Empress Wu’s monopolization of power was harmful to the state and urging her removal. Gaozong agreed and ordered Shangguan Yi to draft the edict for her deposition. Unfortunately, the matter was leaked by a palace eunuch, and Empress Wu, upon learning of it, was furious. She bypassed the emperor, found a pretext, and had Shangguan Yi’s entire family arrested. After three interrogations, they were to be executed as soon as spring came.

Though Emperor Gaozong was weak-willed, he was not without understanding. He did not support the execution of Shangguan Yi’s family but, cowed by his wife, dared not openly intervene. Thus, seizing the occasion of Empress Wu’s childbirth, he hurried to declare a general amnesty, planning to use this opportunity to save Shangguan Yi’s family.

Because of his youth, Li Xian had little direct contact with Shangguan Yi, seeing him only during the annual year-end banquets. Nevertheless, he had read many of Shangguan Yi’s poems and admired his character, deeply pitying his unjust fate. In his previous life, after ascending the throne for the second time, Li Xian’s very first act of rehabilitation was to redress Shangguan Yi’s case, posthumously naming him Chancellor of the Secretariat. The memories were still fresh. Now, with the chance to save Shangguan Yi himself, Li Xian was determined not to let it slip by.

What to do—act, or not act? Li Xian truly wanted to save Shangguan Yi, but he feared inciting Empress Wu’s wrath. If he failed and lost his own life as a result, it would hardly be worth it. He had experienced enough of Empress Wu’s cruelty in his previous life, and even with the added cunning of his later years, he had no confidence in outmaneuvering her—not yet, at least. Still, a true man must know what to do and what to refrain from. Heaven had granted him this chance to begin anew. If he did not try, would it not be a waste of his second life? As the eunuch in charge was about to finalize the edict, Li Xian’s thoughts wrestled fiercely, but at last, the mind of his later life prevailed. He resolved to take the risk and see if he could change his own tragic fate.

“Father, your son believes that this general amnesty is a benevolent act, showing compassion for your people. You are kind, Father; I dare not fall behind. Since there are many prisoners in the imperial prison, I request permission to go and spread your benevolence, and beg Your Majesty to grant this favor.” As the eunuch finished drafting the edict and affixed the imperial seal, Li Xian could no longer remain silent. He stepped forward and spoke boldly.

“This…”

Emperor Gaozong had intended to use this opportunity to release Shangguan Yi; otherwise, he would not have rushed to order the edict. Yet, once the edict was ready, he hesitated, unsure whether to promulgate it immediately. According to Tang protocol, an edict was not legally binding until countersigned by the Chancellery, and the current Chancellor, Xu Jingzong, was a staunch supporter of Empress Wu. Gaozong had no confidence that Xu Jingzong would sign this edict. Just as he was brooding over this, Li Xian’s sudden petition caught him off guard—he was at a loss for words.

“Seventh Brother, enough nonsense!”

Before Emperor Gaozong could reply, Li Xian stepped forward, pointing at Li Xian and sharply rebuking him.

“Seventh Brother, Father has his plans. State affairs are not to be spoken of lightly.”

Even Li Hong, rare for him, sided with Li Xian, though he was more tactful, leaving Li Xian some room.

“Father, I am willing. Please grant me this favor,”

Li Xian pressed on, undeterred by his brothers’ opposition.

“Hmm…”

Emperor Gaozong, never one for decisive action, found himself wavering as his three sons disagreed. He looked at one, then another, his mouth open but unable to utter a single word…