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

The setting sun shone like blood, splashing on the banks of the Wei River outside Chang'an City. The wind blew up gravel, mixed with the pungent smell of blood, and hit Mr. Qi's cheek fiercely.

The shouting and killing sounds around made people's eardrums hurt. The roars of the Uighur cavalry, the crisp sound of horses' hooves crushing bones, and the clanging of weapons colliding formed an impenetrable web of death.

But those Uighur knights who once dominated the grasslands of the Western Regions now fell down in droves like cut wheat stalks.

Mr. Qi looked at the absurd scene in front of him, and suddenly Chang'an during the Qianwu period flashed before his eyes.

At that time, he followed His Majesty on Suzaku Street to watch the nations coming to pay homage.

The Tubo envoy held a golden Buddha statue, the Silla students wore Confucian robes and bowed in salute, and the Uighur Khan personally led a war horse to present the most powerful steed to Your Majesty.

In Chang'an at that time, the Hu merchants on Zhuque Street could speak fluent Chinese, the fragrance of the grape wine in the West Market spread for ten miles, and the bells of the Daming Palace could be heard as far as Xinfeng City, a hundred miles away.

But now, the Huihe people, who once had to look up to the Tang Dynasty, dared to rush to the city of Chang'an with sabers and plunder the people in the suburbs, while the Tang soldiers wearing Ming Guang armor on the city walls stood motionless like stone sculptures.

"Grand Master, look at this world!" Zhang Xuanwei, who was standing beside him, suddenly grabbed Mr. Qi's sleeve. The old man's hands trembled like leaves in the autumn wind, and his voice was full of tears. "If it were during the Qianwu period, when Your Majesty returned, how could these barbarians dare to be so presumptuous?"

"Back then, when General Qin Ruzhao led 3,000 troops to war, the Uighurs dismounted and knelt upon seeing his banners. Now, they dare to draw their swords and kill and burn outside Chang'an!"

Mr. Qi did not say anything, but just looked at the village not far away that was set on fire by the Uighur cavalry with a heavy gaze.

Thick smoke billowed, turning half the sky grey and black. Faintly, one could hear the cries of women and children carried by the wind, piercing their hearts like needles.

"Thirty thousand rolls of silk!" Zhang Xuanwei's voice suddenly rose, filled with extreme anger and despair. "That's six months' worth of food for the people of Guanzhong! They helped the Tang Dynasty quell the rebellion, only to turn around and put knives on the necks of the people. They're not allies, they're jackals!"

"How majestic was our great Tang Dynasty in the past? Emperor Taizong annihilated the Eastern Turks and conquered Gaochang. Your Majesty commanded the whole world. Even Empress Wu Zetian was able to keep the Turks from crossing the Yin Mountains."

"But what about now? Now we have to rely on the mercy of the barbarians to survive, and use the blood and sweat of the people to feed jackals. Is this still the Tang Dynasty that all nations came to pay tribute to? Grand Tutor Qi, tell me, is this still Tang Dynasty land?"

Zhang Xuanwei's words hit Mr. Qi's heart like a heavy hammer. He started coughing violently, and his chest hurt.

"Why..." Mr. Qi murmured in a low voice, his voice hoarse and uncharacteristically his own. "Why are they just watching? They are the people of the Tang Dynasty, this is Tang Dynasty land. They hold Tang Dynasty weapons in their hands and wear Tang Dynasty armor on their bodies. Why can't they draw their swords?"

Zhang Xuanwei sighed, his voice filled with sadness: "Grand Master, don't you understand? The court today is no longer the court of the past."

"Your Majesty experienced the An-Shi Rebellion when he was young and is afraid. He fears another war, fears that the military governors will take advantage of the situation to cause rebellion, and fears that the Uighurs will attack Chang'an in return."

"Those generals were afraid, too. They were afraid that if they defeated the Uighurs, they would offend the Khan. They were also afraid that if they lost, they would lose their official hats."

"In their hearts, the word 'Tang Dynasty' has long since disappeared. They only care about their own official positions and military power."

Mr. Qi closed his eyes. How powerful had the Tang Dynasty, the dynasty he had spent his entire life protecting, ever been?

During the Zhenguan reign, people did not pick up lost items on the road and did not lock their doors at night; during the Qianwu reign, rice was fat and millet was white, and both public and private granaries were full.

But the decline was so fast that he was caught off guard.

He was accustomed to the prosperity of the Tang Dynasty and always thought that such a prosperous era would last for thousands of years.

But now, he watched helplessly as the Tang Dynasty gradually fell into the abyss. From the Celestial Empire where all nations came to pay tribute, it had become what it is today. Was the Tang Dynasty weak? No, the Tang Dynasty was not weak at all. The Tang Dynasty still had more than a million armored soldiers.

Unfortunately, they were all waiting and watching to see what the outcome would be, and the military governors were all holding their own troops.

The defeat of the Uighurs did not make Mr. Qi feel happy at all.

He looked at the mountains in the distance, thought of the Hexi Corridor occupied by Tubo, and the people who were displaced in the war.

Even if we drive these Uighurs away today, what will happen?

The people of Hexi were still suffering under the rule of the Tibetans, the governor of Hebei still had his own army and was very powerful. The taxes imposed by the imperial court were becoming heavier and heavier, and the people's lives were becoming more and more difficult.

Is there really any need for such a Tang Dynasty to exist?

As soon as this thought came to mind, it was like a knife stabbing Mr. Qi's heart.

He shook his head violently, trying to get rid of the horrible thought.

But the reality before him shattered his beliefs time and time again.

The Tang army on the top of the city remained motionless, and there was no expression on the faces of the soldiers, as if the fighting below the city had nothing to do with them.

Zhang Xuanwei leaned against a dead tree, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. "Look, we're powerless, yet we're here weeping for the Tang Dynasty, while those military commanders holding military power stand by and watch coldly from the top of the city walls. How ridiculous, how pathetic!"

Mr. Qi did not respond, but slowly raised his head and looked towards the top of Chang'an City.

His gaze passed through the dense crowd of soldiers and fell on the figure in the purple robe in the center of the city wall - that was Guo Ziyi.

Guo Linggong, the hero who once single-handedly repelled the Hehe and quelled the rebellion, was now standing on the top of the city wall, holding a long sword in his hand, looking down at the city with a serious look.

His hair has turned completely white and his face is covered with wrinkles, but his straight back still reveals the majesty of a veteran.

But now, this former god of war can only stand on the top of the city wall, watching the bloody battle below the city and watching the Uighurs wreak havoc on the land of the Tang Dynasty.

Mr. Qi knew that Guo Ziyi was feeling more upset and anxious than anyone else.

But as a military governor, he had to obey the orders of the court and consider the overall situation, and he could not send troops on his own.

This helplessness and frustration are probably more painful than killing him.

"We will not give up an inch of our vast land."

Mr. Qi suddenly spoke.