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

The city of Chang'an was shrouded in lead-gray clouds. The Chiwen of the Taiji Palace pierced the low-hanging sky, and the copper bells on the eaves made a hollow echo in the draft.

Li Zhi leaned against the imperial couch decorated with coiled dragons, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the gilded copper incense burner with dragon patterns. Wisps of green smoke rose up, outlining unpredictable shadows on the shark silk screen, just like the court he had been in charge of for decades - the surface was as calm as a mirror, but secretly there was an undercurrent surging that could subvert the world.

Sporadic hawking sounds came from the streets in the distance, but they seemed particularly faint in the rain, as if even the hustle and bustle of the city was swallowed up by the depressing atmosphere.

On the sandalwood desk in the Liangyi Hall, the list of officials was spread out and covered with red marks.

Li Zhi's hand holding the wolf-hair brush trembled slightly, and the cinnabar spread on the rice paper like solidified blood stains.

Since he ascended the throne, he has been like a tightrope walker, maneuvering between the aristocratic families and the poor, the civil officials and the military generals.

He promoted students from poor families to serve in the three ministries, placed children of royal families in the Censorate, and deliberately allowed the northern and southern gentry to attack each other.

Now, every court meeting of the six ministries is a chess game carefully arranged by him. Various forces are testing the bottom line between memorials and impeachments, but they don’t know that all moves are under his control.

On the desk was the secret report he received yesterday, which detailed the private dealings between certain noble families and officials, which made the wrinkles between his brows even deeper.

"Your Majesty, all the old files of the Jinwu Guard have been retrieved."

Zhang Xiaojing's voice cut through the silence.

The parchment file had a stale and moldy smell. Li Zhi opened the military register from the Zhenguan period. The three large cinnabar characters "Jinwuwei" were still eye-catching between the yellowed pages.

The admonition written by Emperor Taizong himself is clearly visible on the paper: "The selection of sons of nobles and meritorious officials to serve in the imperial guards is not out of favor, but to curb their arrogance and indulgence according to military rules."

At that time, the armor of the Jinwu Guards was bright, and when the cavalry patrolled the city, even the dust on Suzaku Street did not dare to fly.

But as time went by, those pampered children from aristocratic families actually regarded the important task of guarding the imperial city as a plaything to show off their status.

There is still a shocking record in the official gazette of the Qianwu period: the General of the Central Guards trampled civilians to death on his horse, and was finally sentenced to a fine of 20 strings of cash.

Li Zhi read these old news word by word, and felt disgusted, as if he saw the arrogant and debauched faces of those children from aristocratic families in the past.

The rain suddenly picked up speed, bean-sized raindrops pounding the glazed tiles like the clashing of war drums. Li Zhi stroked Li Chengqian's handwritten edict on reducing the army. His brother's vigorous handwriting pierced through the paper: "The Jinwu Guard is wasting money and food. Ninety percent of its personnel shall be reduced, and the remaining troops shall be relocated to Xianyang."

Today, outside the Xianyang sanatorium, more than a hundred old, weak and disabled soldiers are guarding with swords in hand. The dragging footsteps during patrols have long lost their former sharpness.

The imperial guards, once famous throughout the world, have been reduced to menial servants who take care of the sickbed.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the former glory of the Jinwu Guard in his mind, but all that emerged was the dilapidated scene of today, which made him more determined to rebuild.

"Call the Minister of War!" Li Zhi suddenly stood up, and his black dragon robe swept the bamboo slips on the table.

When Wu Tianyan hurried into the palace, he saw the emperor staring at the location of Xianyang on the map, with a burning flame in his eyes.

"I want to rebuild the Jinwu Guard."

"Seventy percent of the troops will be selected from the sons of aristocratic families, and thirty percent will be recruited from humble backgrounds. I must train a formidable and combat-ready imperial army!"

His voice was low and powerful, with undeniable authority.

Wu Tianyan's official boots scraped against the blue bricks, making a small sound. "Your Majesty, the treasury is short of money and grain. Rashly expanding the army..."

"Money and food?"

Li Zhi suddenly sneered, shaking the candlelight on the table. "Back when the Five Clans and Seven Families controlled the salt and iron transport and monopolized half of the country's taxes, did anyone ever say that there was a shortage of money and grain?"

"Look at these! Back then, the Pei family in Hedong privately minted copper coins, and the Zheng family in Xingyang seized thousands of acres of fertile farmland. These aristocratic families are still in their infancy. If we don't take precautions soon..."

"I cannot leave this difficult problem to future generations."

The voice stopped abruptly, and only the sound of rain outside the window became more and more rapid.

Wu Tianyan looked at the emperor and sighed inwardly, but he also understood that his majesty's worries were not unreasonable.

On the day the decree was issued, the city of Chang'an was in an uproar.

In the tavern in Pingkangfang, the children of wealthy families were still somewhat reluctant.

But now, they all respect the orders of the court.

When they learned that the selected candidates could be directly awarded an eighth-rank military position, and could enter and leave the palace and meet the emperor, their feelings suddenly changed.

The head of the Hedong Pei family summoned all the clan members to give them a lecture overnight. The Xingyang Zheng family dug out military books that had been hidden for many years. Some scholars from poor families even gave up their studies and joined the army just for a chance to make a name for themselves.

People are talking about this big event on the streets and alleys. Some are looking forward to new opportunities, while others are worried about future changes.

On the training ground, the scorching sun made the loess hot.

The young masters of the aristocratic families took off their brocade robes and practiced riding and shooting in coarse cloth shorts, their sweat-soaked backs showing salt stains.

The children from poor families held their spears tightly, their eyes burning with the desire to change their fate.

When he saw the eldest son of the Pei family being punished to kneel under the scorching sun for poor training, but gritting his teeth and refusing to beg for mercy, a smile of relief finally appeared on the corner of his mouth.

He knew that in the future, the noble families could only serve as loyal dogs of the imperial court.

In the Liangyi Hall late at night, the candlelight stretched Li Zhi's figure very long.

He spread out a bright yellow silk, dipped his wolf hair brush in cinnabar, and wrote stroke by stroke: "When the Tang Dynasty rises, the aristocratic family rises; when the Tang Dynasty falls, the aristocratic family falls."

Before the ink had dried, thunder exploded outside the window, illuminating the portraits of Li Shimin and Li Chengqian on the wall.

In a trance, his father's eyes seemed to carry the majesty of the Zhenguan period, and his brother's eyes seemed to hide the decisiveness of the Qianwu period. And he, the prince who was once considered cowardly by the world, finally walked out of his own path to becoming an emperor.

He gazed at the portrait, silently recounting the hardships and difficulties of those years, as if reporting his achievements to his ancestors.

When the last decree was signed, Li Zhi leaned back on the Panlong Chair and listened to the ticking of the night watchman.

Over the years, he has been walking on thin ice in the turbulent court, and every step he takes is extremely difficult.

Li Shimin's Zhenguan era was brilliant, and Li Chengqian's iron-blooded methods shocked everyone, but he could only find a unique balance under heavy pressure.

At this moment, he was physically and mentally exhausted, but also felt relieved.

"Go, invite the Queen of Heaven to Liangyi Hall."

Li Zhi looked at the sky which was gradually getting brighter in the east.

Perhaps, this was the last game he set up for the Tang Dynasty and also the most crucial move.

When Wu Zetian stepped into the palace gate on the morning dew, the morning light penetrated the clouds and intertwined the figures of the two people.

At this moment, the gears of history began to turn, and the fate of the Tang Dynasty was about to usher in a new chapter.

In the Liangyi Hall, Li Zhi's face was a little flushed.

Looking at Wu Meiniang who walked in.

He smiled.

"Mei Niang, don't review the memorials today. The flowers in the imperial garden are blooming. Come with me and enjoy the flowers."