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

In the first year of the Jiushi era in Luoyang City, the autumn wind was carrying the moisture of the Luo River over the vermilion walls of the imperial city.

When the eunuch from the Ministry of Internal Affairs held the bright yellow imperial edict and read out in a sharp voice on the red steps of the Purple Palace, "Appoint Prince Li Xian of Luling as the Crown Prince", the breathing of all the officials in the palace almost stopped for a moment at the same time.

A thin layer of sweat was oozing out of the palm of the Minister of Personnel's imperial sceptre. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Vice Minister of Rites beside him quietly adjusting his hat - a layer of fine beads of sweat was clearly visible on his forehead under the black gauze.

No one dared to look up at the woman on the throne, but everyone had the same thought in their hearts.

This imperial edict was like a key that opened a secret lock that had been sealed for many years.

When Xu Jingye started his rebellion in Yangzhou, he shouted "Give me back the King of Luling". Now, he was granted the title by the female emperor herself.

When the court was dismissed, as soon as Prince Li Dan's carriage left the Duanmen Gate, Minister Cui, who was traveling with him, grabbed the reins.

"Your Highness," Minister Cui's voice was lowered to a whisper than the sound of horse hooves, "look at the lamps on the throne. I'm afraid half a lamp will be burning less tonight."

Li Dan pulled the corners of his mouth and showed a smile that was uglier than crying - he knew better than anyone that his mother made his brother the crown prince not out of kindness, but because the influence of Di Renjie's dying words "The relationship between aunt and nephew cannot be compared to that between mother and son" was still lingering in the court.

The renovation of the East Palace was faster than expected.

On the night Li Xian moved into Shaoyang Courtyard, he specially ordered people to place three eternal lamps, one for offering sacrifices to heaven, one for offering sacrifices to earth, and the last one facing the direction of Chang'an.

He stroked the "Crown Prince's Seal" on the table, and rubbed his fingertips over the coiled dragon pattern on the seal button. He suddenly remembered that when he was deposed twenty years ago, his mother also sat on the throne like this, watching coldly as he was dragged out of Luoyang City by the eunuchs.

At that time, he thought he would die in the thatched cottage in Fangzhou, but he didn't expect that after many twists and turns, he would return to the center of power.

But the peaceful days did not last long, and news came from the palace: His Majesty, in accordance with the wishes of Lord Di, let Minister of Autumn Zhang Jianzhi take over as the Prime Minister of Fengge Luantai.

When the news reached Zhang's residence, this old minister, who was nearly 70 years old, was copying "Lanting Preface" in his study. His brush paused at the line "Life and death are also great", and the ink drop spread out as a small black dot on the rice paper.

He put down his pen, looked out the window at the half-dead sycamore tree, and suddenly smiled at his son, saying, "As long as Di Gong is in heaven, someone will eventually have to shoulder the burden of this world."

At that time, the Tang Dynasty was quietly changing the world.

In her early years, Wu Zetian sent Wang Xiaojie to guard the Middle East, and ordered Lou Shide to manage the border of Constantinople. The copper coins in the treasury flowed to the border like water.

Now that the border troubles have been resolved, Your Majesty has stopped the expansion of military farms in the Middle East and has cut the garrison in Constantinople by 30%. The copper materials that were supposed to be made into military weapons have instead flowed into the mints of various states.

Silk merchants in Jiangnan discovered that 30% of this year's tax silver was newly minted "Dazu Yuanbao", which was so fine that it could reflect a person's reflection.

Luoyang's West Market was becoming increasingly bustling. In the afternoon at the Hu merchants' market, Persians were weighing pepper on small gilded scales. Nearby, an old man selling Hu pancakes lifted the lid of his stove, and white steam, tinged with the aroma of sesame, filled the street.

A clerk in a green robe, clutching his monthly salary in copper coins, hesitated in front of a silk shop. His wife had said the day before that she wanted to get a piece of Yuezhou silk to make a new skirt. "Life is more relaxed now than during the Zhenguan era."

The old man selling Hubing sprinkled a handful of chopped green onions on his regular customers and said, "I heard that the granaries in Jingzhao Prefecture had enough corn to last three years."

Such gossip gradually spread from the marketplace to the officialdom. A young censor at the Censorate, copying old files in his duty room, came across a disaster relief document from the Yonghui reign and couldn't help but mutter to his colleagues, "During the Qianfeng years, there was a severe drought in Guanzhong, and one dou of rice could be exchanged for two bolts of cloth."

"Now that Your Majesty has exempted tea taxes in Jiangnan, even tea farmers in Shu can wear silk shirts."

Before he could finish his words, the old censor glared back at him: "Be careful with your words! Do you think you can just compare His Majesty's reign title?"

But the scale in the hearts of the people is clearer than the laws in the court.

On the winter solstice, the Luoyang County Magistrate was inspecting the night market when he saw an old night watchman squatting in front of a wonton stall, drinking soup with two drops of sesame oil floating in his bowl. "Look, sir," the old man pointed at the house across the way, "that family was renting a house last year, but this year they've bought half an acre of land."

The county magistrate looked at the lights shining through the window papers of every household, and suddenly remembered that when His Majesty visited Shangyang Palace at the beginning of the year, when his carriage passed through Tianjin Bridge, a flower girl holding peonies stopped the carriage and shouted not "Long live the emperor" but "Thank you, Your Majesty, for letting us have enough to eat."

Time flies and it is the first year of Shenlong.

In the first month of the lunar year, light snow was falling in Luoyang, and the morning mist in the Ziwei Palace always carried a bitter smell of medicine.

Since late autumn last year, Your Majesty has rarely attended court, and most government affairs have been reported to you by the Minister of Fengge.

The eunuchs said privately that they often heard coughing coming from the Changsheng Palace at night, and the director of the Imperial Medical Bureau ran to the palace every few days, transporting the medicine residue out on carts.

The Zhang brothers became the most powerful.

Zhang Yizhi stood in the corridor of Hanyuan Hall wearing a purple robe, playing with a jade-handled fly whisk sent as tribute from the Western Regions, and watching officials coming to give him gifts like a revolving lantern.

His elder brother Zhang Changzong had just received a house awarded by His Majesty the day before yesterday. It was located inside Dingding Gate, and its carved beams and painted rafters were even more magnificent than the prince's mansion.

"Is there any movement from Prince Luling's side?" Zhang Yizhi asked his subordinates with a sidelong glance, his tone nonchalant.

He could not forget that last month, he mentioned to the emperor that "the prince's servant bullied men and women", and the next day he heard that the prince had killed the servant with his own stick.

Li Xian's life was like walking on thin ice.

He placed a bronze Buddha statue in the warm room of the Eastern Palace and bowed to it every morning and evening. Last night, he dreamed of his mother sitting in front of a bronze mirror, her white hair gleaming brighter than snow. He woke with a startled sweat soaking through his shirt.

A personal official came in with ginseng soup and whispered, "Your Highness, Princess Anle has sent someone to ask you to ask for the position of Governor for her husband."

Li Xian's hand holding the soup bowl trembled, and the ginseng slices fell into the bowl: "Tell the princess to behave herself."

He didn't dare say it, but last year it was because his daughter, the prince consort and his son were talking about His Majesty in a restaurant that the Zhang brothers reported it to His Majesty.

That day, his mother summoned him to the Changsheng Palace. Through the mica screen, her voice was like ice: "You, my sons and daughters-in-law, none of you can learn the rules."

His mind was blank at the time, and he only thought about not being deposed again. He turned around and ordered his son, who had just reached adulthood, to be beaten to death.

Not long after, news came from the palace that Princess Anle had died in childbirth. When Li Xian rushed to the princess's residence, the baby had died before she could even cry, and her face was as white as a sheet of paper.

He stood in front of the mourning hall and suddenly remembered that twenty years ago in Fangzhou, his daughter had just learned to walk and stepped on his shadow and called out "Aye." Now the shadow is still there, but the person is gone.

When the news reached Changsheng Palace, Wu Zetian was leaning on the couch reading "Book of Zhou".

Zhang Changzong was reading a memorial at the side. When it came to the prince killing his son and the princess's death, the jade ruyi in her hand fell to the ground with a clang.

"How could he really do that?" her voice trembled. When she brought Li Xian back from Fangzhou, she had shown him the pomegranate tree she had planted herself, as if to say that mother and son were mother and son after all. But now it seemed that the tree had long since withered and died under the frost of power.

The eunuch came in to change the tea and saw His Majesty staring at the bronze mirror in a daze.

The woman in the mirror had a face full of wrinkles, and her white hair at the temples was covered with gold foil, but the light in her eyes was much dimmer than when she was young.

"Order it," she suddenly said, her voice so soft it sounded like a sigh, "to have the Crown Prince come to see me tomorrow."

The next day, Li Xian knelt on the floor tiles of the Changsheng Hall, listening to his mother's cough coming from behind the screen.

"Do you realize your mistake?" Wu Zetian's voice drifted over the scent of medicine. Li Xian kowtowed until his forehead flushed red: "Your son...your son is incompetent."

He waited for his mother's rebuke and was even prepared for the decree of his dethronement, but there was no sound from behind the screen.

After a long time, a very light sigh was heard: "Get up." Wu Zetian's voice was full of fatigue. "From now on... take care of your own children."

When Li Xian looked up, he saw a bright yellow corner of clothes flash behind the screen.

He suddenly remembered that when he was a child, his mother held him in her arms and picked cherries in the imperial garden, saying that when he grew up, he would be the first to taste all the cherries in the world.

At that time, the sunlight fell on his mother's phoenix crown, and the golden light was so bright that he couldn't open his eyes. But now, this golden light has long been ground into ashes by the years.

Snow was still falling outside the hall. Li Xian walked out of the Hall of Eternal Life on the accumulated snow and saw Zhang Jianzhi standing under the corridor waiting for him.

The old minister bowed to him without saying anything, but just pointed at the sun in the sky.

The sun was just emerging from behind the clouds, illuminating the snow, as if it wanted to warm up even the dark corners of the imperial city.