Chapter Seven: Careful Planning Before Action (Part Two)

“Seventh Brother, it’s so early—shouldn’t you be at home studying? What brings you here to my place?”

The Prince of Zhou’s residence and the Prince of Lu’s mansion were actually not far apart, separated by only one street. Yet, the two brothers rarely visited each other. Most of the time, it was the younger brother, Li Xian, paying his respects during festivals and holidays. As for Li Xian, he had never set foot in the Prince of Zhou’s house. Today happened to be a rest day, and Li Xian had originally planned to invite a group of young scholars to his home for a gathering. But just as the gates opened, Li Xian arrived. Unable to avoid the visit, Li Xian greeted him, but irritation simmered beneath his courtesy. Without waiting for Li Xian to approach and pay his respects, he spoke in a rather unfriendly tone.

How rude! Li Xian had intended to greet his brother with a beaming smile, but was met with this abrupt question. Even knowing Li Xian’s temper, he couldn’t help but feel disgruntled. Still, he had come with a purpose today and wasn’t about to be derailed by such trifles. Maintaining his smile, he stepped forward, bowed, and said, “You’re right, Sixth Brother. I apologize for intruding so early. I hope you won’t mind.”

“Hm. Since you’re here, let’s talk inside.”

Normally, when Li Xian scolded, Li Xian would retort, and after a brief quarrel, things would end with Li Xian in tears. But today, not only did Li Xian refrain from arguing, he was exceptionally respectful, which took Li Xian by surprise. Glancing sidelong at his brother, he didn’t immediately send him away, but after a moment’s thought, he motioned him inside with a casual wave of his hand.

“After you, Sixth Brother.”

Li Xian didn’t mind his brother’s offhanded manner, but smiled, bowed, and walked up the steps, shoulder to shoulder with Li Xian through the gate. In silence, they entered the second hall, sat down as host and guest, while servants hurried to serve fragrant tea and a variety of delicacies.

“So, Seventh Brother, what brings you here? Please speak plainly—I have little patience for circles.”

Li Xian’s unusual deference did little to change Li Xian’s low opinion of his brother. As soon as the servants withdrew, he didn’t bother to invite Li Xian to drink, but looked him over and asked bluntly for his purpose.

“You ask well, Sixth Brother. I heard you’ll be sent to rule Qi Prefecture in the spring. It might be so sudden that I won’t have time to see you off, so I came early to spend some time with you.” Li Xian had come prepared and wasn’t moved by Li Xian’s impatience or rudeness. He spoke with a touch of reluctance on his face.

At the mention of being sent away, Li Xian’s anger flared. He snorted coldly and glared at Li Xian, his face shifting through several expressions before he finally fell silent. And who could blame him? The system of sending princes to govern fiefdoms was an established tradition in the empire, but in practice, it was not so simple. For sons born of concubines, they were generally dispatched as soon as they were granted their titles. But for legitimate sons, the rule was less rigid. From the founding emperor onward, Li Shimin had not left the capital as a prince, nor had Emperor Gaozong when he was Prince Jin. His full-blood brother, Prince Wei, only went to his fief after failing to win the succession. In this reign, princes born of concubines had been sent off before age ten, but legitimate sons like Li Xian, though granted titles, remained in the capital as nominal commanders. In this light, Li Xian’s impending assignment stood out starkly.

According to the regulations, a prince sent to his fief would be made governor of a top-ranking prefecture, ruling over thirty thousand households—a comfortable nest for those with no ambition for the throne, but for one with aspirations, exile in all but name. Take Qi Prefecture, for example: it was close to the capital, a day and a half by fast horse, but far from the center of power. Once there, he would be barred from participating in government. For Li Xian, who wished to compete with the Crown Prince Li Hong, this was a deadly blow. Though the imperial edict had not yet arrived, he had heard rumors, and knew that Empress Wu was behind it. The decision was all but final. He had been smoldering with anger for days, so when Li Xian brought it up, the wound stung anew.

“Seventh Brother, are you here to gloat?”

The children of the imperial family matured quickly, and Li Xian was no exception. Though Li Xian’s words made him see stars with rage, he didn’t burst out in a fury. After a long silence, he exhaled heavily and, face dark, asked in a cold voice.

“You misunderstand, Sixth Brother. I wouldn’t dare. I have a few words that might be of some help to you.”

Li Xian met his brother’s chilly gaze and shook his head calmly. His young face was solemn.

“Oh?” Li Xian, only two years older, was already far more renowned at court and in the capital than Li Xian, known for his brilliance and quick wit. He looked down on his brother’s mediocrity and had often berated him for it. Now, hearing that Li Xian might be able to help him, he was taken aback. He studied him with a complex expression—surprise, doubt, and a hint of confusion and embarrassment all mingled together. After a long pause, he finally spat out a single word: “Speak.”

Here we go, another skeptic. Li Xian had expected this reaction. After all, when someone so dull suddenly becomes eloquent, who wouldn’t be suspicious? Not just the brilliant Li Xian, even the maids serving in Li Xian’s quarters had noticed something was amiss.

If he could help it, Li Xian would never have adopted this new persona, but circumstances left him no choice. If he didn’t use Li Xian’s influence to prevent Shangguan Yi’s untimely death, the so-called “Two Sages Reigning Together” would be next. Li Xian remembered clearly: in the second year of Delin, on the ninth day of the first month, Emperor Gaozong was forced to issue an edict allowing Empress Wu to rule jointly. The next day, at the first court session after New Year, Wu Meiniang, fresh from her postpartum confinement and brandishing the execution of the Shangguan family, presided over affairs alongside Gaozong. From then on, state affairs gradually came under her control, laying the groundwork for her future usurpation. If Li Xian wished to avoid the fate that awaited him, he had to act decisively over the matter of Shangguan Yi, both to disrupt Wu’s plans and to give Emperor Gaozong a foothold for resistance. Whether this could succeed depended greatly on Li Xian, which was exactly why Li Xian had come to persuade him.

Delicate matters must be discussed with care, and Li Xian certainly couldn’t speak openly in front of servants. He glanced around to hint at the need for privacy, but Li Xian didn’t catch on, leaving Li Xian quite exasperated. With no other choice, he smiled and changed the subject: “Sixth Brother, your servants here are really something—so spirited and capable, I’m envious. My own lot are hopeless, no matter how I try to teach them. Pure dead weight. It’s shameful.”

“Oh? Hahaha, Seventh Brother, you jest, but I quite like this joke. All of you, did you hear? Since the Prince of Zhou has praised you, I won’t be stingy. Go to the accounts office and collect your reward—five hundred coins each, and half a day off. Go on.”

Li Xian was sharp. He immediately understood Li Xian’s roundabout hint. Laughing heartily, he clapped his hands and, under the pretext of rewarding them, sent all the servants out.

Five hundred coins was no small sum—most servants might not save that much in a whole year—so excitement rippled through them. After thanking both princes profusely, they hurried off to the accounts office, and the hall was soon quiet, leaving only the two brothers facing each other.

“Whatever you have to say, Seventh Brother, speak plainly now—I’m listening.” Once the servants were gone, Li Xian narrowed his eyes and urged him in a flat tone.

“Very well. Sixth Brother, you are learned in history, which I have long admired. But tell me, are you familiar with the story of Empress Lu?”

At this, Li Xian's face darkened. He had studied history since childhood and knew well the tale of Empress Lu’s usurpation during the Han dynasty. He raised a finger as if to rebuke his brother, but held back at the last moment, his face black with anger. After a long, tense silence, he ground out, “Seventh Brother, you’re bold indeed, to compare our mother to Empress Lu. Are you not afraid I’ll report you?”

“Would you, Sixth Brother?” Li Xian shrugged indifferently and, without waiting for a reply, continued, “Such self-destructive actions are beneath even a fool like me—let alone someone as wise as you.”

At these words, Li Xian fell silent again, but his face grew grimmer—flushing red and paling in turns, his eyes flashing with worry that he made no effort to conceal. From childhood, his intelligence had won him Emperor Gaozong’s favor, but never Empress Wu’s. Rumor in the palace held that he was the son of Empress Wu’s elder sister, Lady Wu Shun. As a boy of less than ten, he’d once stormed off to confront Empress Wu about these whispers, earning her lasting enmity. She had scolded him over the smallest matters ever since; their relationship was cold in the extreme. Now, as he was about to be sent away, everyone knew who was behind it. With all these grievances, Li Xian harbored little affection for his mother. Yet, until he understood his brother’s intentions, he remained silent—his best and only option.