I have already established my power and prestige, so how did Li Shimin come back to life?

In Chang'an in the first year of Jianzhong, the autumn wind blew dead leaves across the eaves of the Taiji Hall, and the copper bells on the eaves made intermittent whimpers in the wind, which was very much like the atmosphere of the capital at the moment.

The mottled parts of the palace walls were covered with moss, and the vermilion paint that was once used to show majesty had peeled off in large chunks, revealing the gray bricks and stones underneath - this was the imperial city of the Tang Dynasty that once attracted all nations to pay tribute, but now it was left in a desolate state.

Inside the hall, all the civil and military officials stood with their heads bowed, their purple robes and jade belts unable to hide their fatigue, and the dust on the soles of their boots seemed to still carry the smell of gunpowder from the wars between the feudal states.

Since the An-Shi Rebellion, the imperial court had long lost control over the local areas. The military governors had their own troops and withheld taxes. Even the food and wages in the capital were often cut off. The so-called "government orders cannot leave Chang'an" had long been a known helplessness to both the court and the people.

In this dead silence, there was a sound of dragging footsteps outside the hall.

A figure staggered into the hall. Everyone looked up and saw that the person was wearing a tattered linen shirt, covered in patches, revealing dark skin in places. The hems of his trousers were torn and stained with dirt and dust.

His hair was dry and yellow like grass, tied haphazardly behind his head with a hemp rope. His face was covered with wrinkles and weather frost, but his eyes were the only thing that shone surprisingly brightly in the dim hall, as if burning with an eternal fire.

The old man's eyes slowly swept over the people in the hall, his cracked lips slightly raised, revealing a bloodshot smile.

He cleared his already hoarse throat. His voice was not loud, but it exploded in the hall like a stone thrown into a calm lake: "The Anxi army has not surrendered, nor has it died. Anxi still belongs to the Tang Dynasty!"

This short sentence made all the civil and military officials in the court freeze in an instant.

Anxi, that name that was so distant and almost forgotten, now opened up everyone's dusty memories.

"You...what did you say?"

The Minister of Revenue asked in a trembling voice, his eyes full of disbelief.

The old man raised his hand, his bony fingers pointing westward, as if he could penetrate the palace walls and see the Gobi Desert thousands of miles away. "I am the grain officer for the Anxi Army. The Tibetans besieged us for three years. When our water supply was cut off, we drank snowwater. When we ran out of fodder, we boiled the leather from our armor. Soldiers died in droves, yet not a single one of us surrendered."

"Last month, the general sent someone to break out. After three months of marching and crossing three snow-capped mountains, we finally returned to Chang'an. The four Anxi towns, Qiuci, Yutian, Shule, and Yanqi, are still in our hands! The flag flying over the city walls is still the flag of the Great Tang Dynasty!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of suppressed sobs suddenly broke out in the Tai Chi Hall.

Some people covered their faces with their hands, tears streaming from between their fingers; some people held onto the pillars of the palace, their bodies trembling uncontrollably; even the usually majestic prime minister had red eyes and turned his head away to wipe his eyes.

Now, the dynasty is declining and the feudal lords are fighting for power. They can only survive in the city of Chang'an. Even the news of an isolated army can make them lose their composure.

The old man looked at the scene before him, tears welling in his cloudy eyes. He slowly knelt down and kowtowed in the direction of the dragon throne: "As long as the Anxi Army survives, we will defend the Western Regions for the Tang Dynasty, waiting for Your Majesty to send troops, for the Central Plains to be stabilized, and for the Tang Dynasty's flag to be raised all over Hexi again!"

"Your Majesty, Chang'an is closer than the sun!"

However, the Anxi Army's perseverance ultimately failed to reverse the decline of the Tang Dynasty.

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye it is the first year of Qianfu, nearly a hundred years have passed since the first year of Jianzhong.

During these hundred years, the Tang Dynasty was like a huge ship drifting in a storm, and the eunuchs' power became increasingly serious. From Li Fuguo during the reign of Emperor Suzong to Qiu Shiliang and Tian Lingzi later, the eunuchs were even able to depose and enthrone emperors, and the court was filled with chaos.

The separatist rule of the feudal lords reached its peak. Jiedushi such as Zhu Wen and Li Keyong had hundreds of thousands of troops and attacked each other, causing unrest in the Central Plains. Coupled with years of famine, the Yellow River burst its banks, and locust plagues, the people had no harvest and could only sell their children. Refugees were everywhere, and people's livelihood was in extreme poverty.