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

The late spring rain slanted across the Chiwen of Liangyi Hall, making the gilded wind chimes hanging on the eaves shatter.

As Zhang Jianzhi left, the crisp sound of his official boots crushing puddles gradually faded away. Li Zhi was lying on the carved bed wrapped in a gold-woven brocade quilt. His bony fingers unconsciously scratched the dragon pattern on the green jade pillow. The dent caused by years of rubbing now looked like a bleeding wound.

The armchair three meters away was covered with a thin layer of dust, and the gilded back with dragon patterns shone with a cold light.

Half a month ago, he forced himself to sit on the chair to discuss matters despite his illness. The hard seat hurt his spine, and the gilded dragon seemed to have lost its majesty and turned into two entwined snakes.

Moving the gaze upwards, a portrait of Emperor Taizong holding the Black Armor Army Tiger Talisman was hung high up, but his eyebrows and eyes beneath the crown were blurred into ink in the dim light.

Emperor Gaozong's face was also blurry, and the two portraits became two shadows in the candlelight.

"Your Majesty, it's time to take your medicine."

The voice of the palace maid was like a light falling leaf.

Li Zhi waved his hand, and the slight sound of the celadon medicine bowl resting on the rosewood table caused tiny ripples in the dead silence of the hall.

The sound of rain grew heavier, Li Zhi closed his eyes, but the disputes in the court surged like a tide.

The secret reports flying on Wu Tianyan's desk, Zhang Jianzhi's broken tablet in the court, Ma Qi's smile... these images twisted into a vortex in the darkness, engulfing Li Xian's timid face.

Can the son holding a scroll in the Hongwenguan really intimidate Pei Yan, Cheng Wuting and other ruthless ministers?

The unfinished policy paper on Li Xian's desk still had some childish ink on it. How could it have any trace of imperial aura?

His memory suddenly flashed back to the Xianqing period, when he and Wu Meiniang sat on the dragon throne together, listening to the officials cheering "Long live the emperor".

The way she lowered her eyes and wrote down the memorial showed the gentleness of a girl, but also a hidden sharpness.

Over the years, even he was secretly shocked by her decisiveness in dealing with the rebellion in the West and her ruthlessness in governing the court.

But compared to a powerful minister usurping the throne and changing the hands of the country, entrusting the country to the woman with whom he had four sons was perhaps the only way to preserve the Li Tang bloodline.

Time passes quietly with the sound of the copper clock ticking.

During this year, Li Zhi changed the reign title on his sickbed, from "Yongchun" to "Hongdao" and then to the current "Kaiyao".

Every time I pick up a pen, it feels like I am using my last bit of strength to gamble with fate.

When the Imperial Astronomical Bureau reported the unusual phenomenon of Mars guarding the heart, he stared at the newly engraved "Kai Yao" seal and suddenly coughed up blood, staining the bright yellow edict red.

The blood spread out on the last stroke of the word "kai", as if splashing an ominous cinnabar on the future of the Tang Dynasty.

In the spring of the first year of Kaiyao, the morning light penetrated the carved lattice windows and cast tiny spots of light on the golden bricks.

Wang Can knelt under the Panlong Pillar, the black python-patterned hem of his clothes blending into the dark patterns of the floor tiles. Only the gold-and-silver Jinyiwei badge around his waist shone with a cold light.

The spy leader who had followed him for fifteen years now had a look of anxiety and confusion in his eyes.

"Let's go back to Luoyang."

Li Zhi leaned against the dragon-patterned table, and every word he spoke was like spitting out bloody jade beads. "Take everything... away."

Wang Can suddenly looked up, only to see a strange relief emerging on the emperor's face, which was as pale as paper.

Thirty-seven years of blood and glory collapsed under this decree.

In front of the vermilion lacquer gate of the Jinyiwei Beizhenfu Division, the imperial guards with embroidered spring swords hanging from their waists looked panicked. Some of them silently took off their swords, while others clutched the transfer orders with their knuckles turning white.

Those files recording the secrets of countless officials were secretly transported to Luoyang by ox carts. The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs of Zhuque Street, and the dust raised seemed to be wrapped in secrets.

The news spread like wildfire in Chang'an.

On Zhuque Street, an old man selling Hu pancakes clutched his dough and muttered to himself, "With the Jinyiwei gone, who will keep an eye on those corrupt officials from now on?"

In the West Market tavern, scholars and scholars slammed their hands in shock and asked, "Your Majesty, are you going to destroy your own eyes and ears?"

Officials from the six ministries held the secret letters tightly in their sleeves, trying to guess the emperor's intentions.

Only Wang Can's carriage, wrapped in thick oilcloth, drove towards the secret party's secret stronghold in the night. The sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone road was like the hum of history turning pages.

Inside the Lizheng Hall, the aroma of camphor was as thick as fog.

Wu Meiniang's fingertips slid across the twined branches on the gilded armrest, and every mark reminded her of the weight of power.

Shangguan Wan'er's voice trembled in the silence: "Empress, the Jinyiwei have withdrawn, and the secret files handed over by Wang Can..."

Before she finished speaking, Wu Meiniang suddenly pressed down the memorial on the table and used her fingernails to make a crescent-shaped indentation on Xue Ji's thin golden body.

She looked at the darkening sky outside the window and thought of the morning bell of Ganye Temple twenty years ago. At that time, she had never imagined that this fang symbolizing imperial supervision would fall into her hands in this way.

Could it be that Your Majesty... As soon as this thought came to her mind, she suppressed it - Li Zhi was the emperor of the Tang Dynasty after all, how could he be willing to hand over the country?

When the night watch drum first sounded, the candlelight in Ganlu Hall dyed the window paper blood red.

Wu Meiniang stepped over the threshold and saw Li Zhi leaning against the shark silk tent. His bony collarbone looked like a dead branch under his moon-white nightgown.

The medicine in the bowl had already cooled down completely, but there was still a few wisps of steam rising from it.

"Mei Niang..." The voice he called her seemed to come from far away.

"Come closer, let me take another look at you."

Wu Meiniang's throat tightened, and the eloquent words that had once dominated the court were now stuck in her chest.

She walked slowly forward, her skirt brushing the cool tile floor. Li Zhi's skinny hand suddenly grasped her wrist, his strength weak but firm. "Do you remember the oath we swore in this hall during the Linde era?"

As the candlelight flickered, tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm afraid I won't be able to see the glorious era... But you must promise me to preserve the roots of the Li Tang Dynasty."

Zhang Xiaojing lifted the bead curtain, and the copper nails on the black armor flickered in the candlelight, but the sandalwood box in his hand did not move at all.

When the lid of the box was opened, the four seal characters "不良帅印" on the jade seal reflected the candlelight, like four dancing flames.

The moment Wu Meiniang's fingertips touched the seal, thunder roared outside the palace. The lightning illuminated the pleased smile on Li Zhi's face, and also the surging waves in her eyes.

"From today on, the Bad People will only obey the orders of the Queen."

Li Zhi's voice was shattered by thunder, but every word was clear, "It's time for someone else to shoulder the burden of the Li Tang Dynasty..."

His head slowly tilted to one side, and the twelve layers of gauze curtains in front of the couch moved without wind, shrouding the figures of the two people in a hazy shroud.

Wu Meiniang's hand holding the seal trembled slightly, and the cold jade was gradually warmed by the temperature of her palm.

Torrential rain was pouring outside the window, washing away the eaves and brackets of the Daming Palace. A power transformation that would last for hundreds of years was starting from this small seal, quietly changing the fate of the Tang Dynasty.

"Mei Niang, from now on, if I am no longer able to do anything, the Tang Dynasty will depend on you."

"Also, Mei Niang, you must be lenient with Princess Yunhe. The other members of the royal family don't matter. They need to be disciplined."

"Only Princess Yunhe, as long as the bloodline of the late emperor lives on, they will always be invaluable in the Tang Dynasty."

"This oath will last until the fall of the Tang Dynasty."