Li Shimin faked his death? Then I will be powerful enough to conquer the world!

At the center of power in the empire, the Taiji Hall stands majestically, quietly overlooking the changing world.

The flying eaves and brackets are stacked and intertwined, reaching into the sky, demonstrating unparalleled momentum.

The sunlight penetrates the colorful glazed window panes, casting mottled bright spots on the mirror-like golden brick floor. As the shadow of the sun moves, the light spots also dance.

Incense curls up in the hall, precious sandalwood burns slowly in the copper furnace, and the rich aroma lingers.

His Majesty sat upright on the high dragon throne, looking down with interest at the heated debate among the civil and military officials below, with a scrutinizing look in his eyes.

Zhang Xuanwei was among the court officials and looked a little thin.

From the beginning of the court meeting, his eyes were drawn to Your Majesty as if by a magnet.

At this moment, His Majesty's back was straight, like a standing pine tree, his face was rosy and shiny, full of energy, and his every move showed the majesty of an emperor.

But every time when the night fell and everything was silent, Zhang Xuanwei climbed up to the observatory and looked up at the vast starry sky. The Ziwei star, which symbolized the emperor's fate, was tottering in the inky black night sky, dim and could go out at any time.

The emperor's appearance corresponding to this strange constellation is exactly the same as the high-spirited Majesty in front of him.

But Zhang Xuanwei had seen the same scene once many years ago. He broke out in a cold sweat, and a strong sense of foreboding lingered in his heart like a haze.

Li Chunfeng was standing next to Zhang Xuanwei and noticed something was wrong with him. Zhang Xuanwei looked solemn, with a furrowed brow and a wandering gaze.

Li Chunfeng gently tugged at his sleeve, leaned slightly to the side, and asked in a low, concerned voice, "Xuanwei, what's wrong? You're so lost in thought, what are you thinking about?"

Zhang Xuanwei suddenly came back to his senses, shook his head in panic, and said with forced composure: "Nothing, I was just too focused on stargazing last night, which exhausted my mind and made me a little tired."

The prince returned to the palace again.

From then on, he would go to Liangyi Hall every morning to pay his respects to His Majesty.

During this period, His Majesty seemed to have a special liking for the Liangyi Palace, and he chose to stay in this palace most of the time.

Li Jingyi stood quietly by, watching Li Chengqian sitting on the armchair, his fingers stroking the armrests repeatedly, his movements slow, as if he was lost in some unspeakable contemplation.

Many times, Li Jingyi's throat rolled and the words were on the tip of his tongue, but when his gaze met his father's deep eyes, at that moment, all his courage seemed to be swept away by a gust of wind, and he was ultimately unable to utter the words.

Ever since he poisoned that seemingly ordinary armrest, he has been like a frightened bird, always paying attention to his father's every move.

Every time he saw his father touching the armrest, his heart would instantly rise to his throat. He was so nervous that he almost suffocated, as if he could hear his own rapid heartbeat.

He didn't know how many times he had clearly caught the glint of tears in his father's eyes. Those tears seemed to be filled with endless sorrow, piercing his heart.

It was late at night and everything was silent. Li Jingyi tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.

The image of my father stroking the armrest always appears involuntarily in my mind, lingering like a ghost.

He couldn't help but wonder if his father had seen through everything and knew that he had put a deadly poison on the armrest?

In the late summer of the eighteenth year of Qianwu, the scorching sun cast dappled light on the large dragon bed.

His Majesty lay there quietly, his eyes empty, slowly scanning every corner of the hall.

From the exquisite murals on the walls, which depict the magnificent scenes of our ancestors expanding the territory, to the neatly arranged exquisite ornaments, to the dragon bed beneath him.

A tear slowly slid down the corner of his eye, sparkling with crystal light under the sunlight.

At this moment, he felt mixed emotions and was overwhelmed with emotion. It turned out that even though he was the emperor and owned everything in the world, he still had unspeakable pain.

At this moment, he couldn't help but feel that being an ordinary citizen, working from sunrise to sunset, guarding a few acres of land, and living happily with his family might also be a rare happiness.

His thoughts were like a wild horse running away, drifting far away.

He thought of Luoyang and the palace hidden underground.

He thought of the sickle officer, the commander-in-chief, and even more so, the emperor who had extended a helping hand without hesitation and saved him from the dire straits when he was about to starve to death.

He secretly felt lucky that it was not His Majesty who had to go through all this.

The Crown Prince's current actions are truly heartbreaking. Even His Majesty would find it difficult to guard against the schemes of his own son.

After all, how could a father in this world be so worried and wary of his son all day long?

He felt that if his death could bring peace to the world and ensure that the Tang Dynasty would remain stable for thousands of years, then it would be a worthy death and extremely worthwhile.

In a trance, his thoughts went back to his youth, and he remembered the days when he worked hard in the fields.

At that time, he was just a country bumpkin struggling for food and clothing. He sweated profusely under the scorching sun every day, but still had no food to eat and no clothes to wear.

The coarse linen clothes he wore were covered with patches and looked tattered, and the straw sandals on his feet had holes in them.

If it weren't for the appreciation and promotion of Your Majesty and the Marshal, how could we be where we are today?

Once, he thought he had long bid farewell to those difficult years and never wanted to go back to the past.

But now, he longs to be under the scorching sun again, holding a hoe, cultivating the land, and feeling the solidity of being down to earth again.

Thinking of this, his eyes gradually became calm, as if he had finally found a spiritual home after experiencing many vicissitudes of life.

He slowly closed his eyes and his breathing became weaker.

Just like that, he passed away quietly on his bed in Ganlu Palace, with no one around him. Only the breeze outside the window blew gently, as if sighing for his departure.

On August 23, the eighteenth year of Qianwu, the early morning sun filled the imperial palace. Inside the Taiji Hall, all the civil and military officials had already lined up in an orderly manner, dressed in court robes, with solemn expressions, waiting for His Majesty to come to court.

But time passed minute by minute, and His Majesty, who was usually punctual, was still not here.

Li Jingyou's heartbeat also accelerated involuntarily.

He led a group of civil and military officials and hurried to Ganlu Palace. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed in the empty palace corridors.

Everyone arrived at the door of Ganlu Palace. Li Jingyou raised his hand and knocked respectfully on the door, once, twice...

The voice echoed in the silent hall, but there was dead silence in the hall, without a single response.

Li Jingyou and Wang Wen looked at each other, hesitated for a moment, and then slowly pushed open the door of the palace.

I saw His Majesty lying quietly on the big bed, his face as pale as paper, without a trace of blood, he had died of a sudden illness.

For a moment, the hall was filled with weeping sounds, and all the civil and military officials knelt on the ground, crying like rain.

The news of His Majesty's death spread throughout the world in an instant.

When the people heard the bad news, they were all shocked.

On the streets and alleys, people were whispering to each other, with expressions of disbelief on their faces.

The emperor who single-handedly changed the fate of the lower-class people in the Tang Dynasty, the emperor who was deeply respected by all the people, actually passed away so suddenly?

In an instant, countless people spontaneously rushed over from all directions. They carried the elderly and children, walked hurriedly, and gathered outside the palace gate.

They were dressed in plain clothes, with white cloth on their heads, their faces were filled with sorrow, their eyes were filled with sadness, and they were reluctant to leave for a long time.

Seeing this, the soldiers came forward to persuade the people with earnest words, but the people remained unmoved.

Still standing in front of the palace gate, expressing endless grief for His Majesty in his own way.

Some people knelt on the ground and cried bitterly, their tears soaking the ground; some people prayed silently, hoping that the spirit of His Majesty in heaven would protect the Tang Dynasty.

The soldiers had no choice but to report the situation. The entire Tang Dynasty was immersed in an atmosphere of grief.