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

In the late autumn of the first year of Jingyun, the Hu merchants in the West Market of Chang'an were busy packing Tibetan felt and Persian glass into warehouses in preparation for the coming cold snow.

Yet, the chill of the Taiji Palace, deep within the imperial city, was even more bone-chilling than the cold wind outside the Great Wall. Li Dan sat on the throne at Chengtian Gate, watching the officials below arguing endlessly over the price of grain transported to the imperial court. His fingers unconsciously stroked the Taotie pattern on the armrests of the dragon throne. It was not until Princess Taiping coughed lightly that he stammered, as if awakened, "The princess is absolutely right. Let us proceed accordingly."

Standing in the east corridor, Li Longji took it all in. He wore a brocade robe trimmed with ermine, and a jade belt around his waist held a double fish amulet, a token of his position as regent.

But when Princess Taiping's maid walked through the crowd holding her handwritten edict, even the white-haired Minister of Revenue had to bow to take it. The fish token that symbolized the crown prince's power seemed like an insignificant toy.

"Your Highness, the Princess has just had three Imperial Censors executed in Wannian County Prison," the eunuch reported in a low voice, his voice trembling, "because they impeached a corrupt servant in her mansion."

Li Longji casually fiddled with the jade pendant at his waist. "Got it. Have someone prepare a carriage and go to Dongming Temple."

Dongming Temple is a deserted Taoist temple located on the bank of Qujiang Lake in the south of Chang'an City.

But since Mr. Qi retired here three years ago, this place has become the place where the prince stays most often.

Pushing open the mottled vermilion lacquer door, I saw Mr. Qi sitting under the ginkgo tree, stroking a bronze talisman in his hand. The sunlight fell on him through the golden gaps in the leaves, making him look like he was covered by a layer of dust from time.

"Teacher." Li Longji bowed, but his eyes involuntarily glanced at the military token.

It was a palm-sized copper talisman, its edges rubbed to a shine. The front had neither the common tiger or leopard patterns nor the dragon patterns that symbolized imperial power, but two intersecting patterns - the left side looked like a hammer head, and the right side looked like a sickle, with a vague "Wu" character engraved at the intersection.

It was this seemingly ordinary military token that caused the entire army to boil three days ago.

That day, he followed Mr. Qi's instructions and took the military token to see the General of the Left Yulin Guard.

He thought it would take some talking and was even prepared for violence, but the moment he took out his military token, the iron-blooded general who had fought for more than ten years suddenly knelt down in the snow with a plop. The crisp sound of his armor hitting the frozen ground startled the winter sparrows on the branches and flew away.

"In the seventh year of the Qianwu reign, my grandfather saw this talisman!" The general's voice was filled with tears, and he placed his hands on the ground and kowtowed repeatedly. "Before his death, my grandfather said that seeing this talisman was like seeing Emperor Wu in person. Even if it meant going through fire and water, I would obey his orders!"

Upon hearing the news, the soldiers in the camp rushed over and knelt down in a sea of ​​people.

A lame old soldier tremblingly took out a rubbing of the military token and compared it with the bronze token in his hand. When he confirmed that it was correct, the entire camp erupted in thunderous shouts: "The Qianwu spirit will never be forgotten!

It was then that Li Longji realized that these people were not loyal to him, the crown prince, but to the military token engraved with a hammer and sickle, and to Emperor Qianwu, who was not from their lineage.

"Teacher, today at the court, the emperor approved my aunt's request and replaced the governor of Hexi with her son-in-law."

Li Longji sat down on the stone bench, his tone filled with undisguised irritation, "If this continues, within half a year, all the border army generals will probably become her confidants."

Mr. Qi looked up at him, and a sharp light suddenly flashed in his turbid eyes: "Your Highness, who do you think the Hexi Jiedushi will recognize when he sees this military token?" He handed over the military token. The copper token was cold to the touch, as if it still carried the chill of time.

Li Longji took the military token, his fingertips touching the crossed hammer and sickle, and suddenly remembered an old document he had encountered in Luoyang the previous year. It was a worm-eaten scroll of the "Qianwu Shilu," which recorded a curious event: during the reign of Emperor Wu, he neither offered sacrifices to heaven nor built palaces. Instead, he had artisans cast a hundred hammer-and-sickle military tokens and distributed them to border commanders, stating, "All soldiers and horses under heaven should fight for the people, not for any one individual or family."

"This old minister was instructed by the late Emperor: 'If in the future there are traitors who bring disaster to the country, use this talisman to summon the loyal and brave throughout the world, cleanse the emperor's court, and bring peace to the people.'"

Li Longji was shocked. Since he was a child, he had only heard stories about Wu Zetian's usurpation of the Tang Dynasty, mostly about how Wu Zetian poisoned her own children and slaughtered members of the imperial family.

The prosperous eras of Zhenguan and Qianwu were too far away from him.

But the enthusiasm of the Yulin Guards that day was not fake, the yellowed rubbings in the old soldier's hands were not fake, and this military token that could make the rebellious general bow down to them was not fake.

The refugees who were allocated land during the Qianwu Dynasty remember it, the farmers who were exempted from harsh taxes due to Emperor Wu’s reforms remember it, and more importantly, the soldiers in the army remember it.

"Your Majesty said that the hammer represents the craftsmen and the sickle represents the farmers. This world belongs to them."

"Back then, he relied on these two things to turn refugees into soldiers and make food grow in the barren land."

Li Longji suddenly remembered the "Qianwu spirit" that Mr. Qi often talked about.

It is said that at that time the gates of Chang'an were not closed all night, and peddlers dared to argue about state affairs on Zhuque Street.

It is said that the soldiers in Longyou can eat from the same pot with the generals, and when it comes to rewards, only their battle records are considered, not their official ranks.

It is said that the caravans came with goods from various countries not because they were afraid of the powerful, but because the market in the Qianwu Dynasty was the fairest and the taxes were the lightest.

"But what do these... have to do with the current situation?" Li Longji clenched the military token tightly, and the sharp edges of the copper token made his palm hurt.

"Your Highness, why do you think Princess Taiping dares to act so arrogantly?" Mr. Qi asked. "Because she feels that since the Empress ascended to the throne, it's not impossible for a woman to hold power. Because she feels that the court is full of her confidants, and most of the generals in the army are her followers. But she forgets another tradition in the army—the reverence for this military token."

He stood up and looked at Mount Zhongnan in the distance. "During the Qianwu era, soldiers slept with the hammer and sickle as their pillows. It wasn't because they were afraid of the imperial power, but because they believed in what Emperor Wu said, 'Fight for the people.'"

"Most of these generals' fathers have received favors from the Qianwu Dynasty. They may try to curry favor with Princess Taiping, or they may be wary of the imperial power, but once they see this military token, their blood will be awakened."

Li Longji stood up suddenly. He finally understood that Mr. Qi asked him to meet the generals with the military order not to take advantage of the situation, but to let him see clearly that the real power in this world is not in the power struggles in the deep palace, but in the hearts of the soldiers and civilians who remember the "Qianwu Spirit".

Mr. Qi put the military token back into his sleeve and looked towards Chang'an. "Princess Taiping always thought that the Empress's ascension to the throne had blocked the path for women to take power."

"But she doesn't understand that what the people really dislike is not women in power, but harsh and tyrannical rule."

"During the Qianwu reign, Emperor Wu ensured that orphans had food to eat, refugees had farmland to farm, and soldiers had dignity. Even if he had said he wanted to pass the throne to a woman, no one would have objected."

He turned to look at Li Longji, his eyes filled with hope: "Your Highness, do you know why everyone was so confident during the Qianwu period? Because they believed that life would get better and better, and that the court would support them."

"Right now, your aunt is busy eliminating dissidents, and your father is busy protecting himself. But what are the people hoping for? They just hope that someone can restore the glory of Qianwu."

The setting sun cast long shadows on the two men. The Qujiang Lake in the distance rippled with golden waves, reminiscent of the Qianwu era described by Mr. Qi, when "everyone had a smile on their face."

Li Longji looked towards Chang'an, where a storm was brewing - Princess Taiping's power was intertwined and the undercurrents in the court were turbulent, but he suddenly was no longer afraid.

Because he knew that what he held in his hand was not an ordinary military token.

It was a fire that used a hammer to smash injustice, a sickle to harvest hope, and left for this land.

That is what Emperor Qianwu left behind.

"Teacher," Li Longji said with an unprecedented firmness in his voice, "Tomorrow, accompany me to meet the general of the Right Guard."

Mr. Qi smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes filled with the afterglow of the setting sun: "Okay. Let them see that the fire of Qianwu is still burning."

As the night deepened, the streets of Chang'an gradually quieted down, with only the footsteps of the patrolling Jinwu Guards, tapping out a steady rhythm on the stone pavement.

Behind those tightly closed windows, countless people are reminiscing about the era when "everyone was confident", and countless people are looking forward to a new storm that can blow away the haze that has enveloped the imperial city.