Chapter Forty-Two: Li Zhi’s Intentions

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Fulai had left, and all matters in Anfu Hall were now managed by Xiao He. For a time, she found it difficult to adjust. The greatest challenge was that Xiao He was illiterate, so she struggled to handle many things properly. However, there was one advantage: the palace maids here got along harmoniously, and Lady Zheng would help her with various tasks.

Recently, Xiao He had begun joining Shangguan Wan’er and Lady Zheng in reading and writing lessons, which Li Yuechen was quite pleased to see. Having cultured attendants meant she wouldn't have to worry about them being deceived when sent out.

Li Yuechen borrowed a hoe from the Ministry of Revenue and tended her garden. The ideal time for fertilizing was after the Beginning of Autumn, so there was still time—no need to rush.

One thing, however, struck Li Yuechen as rather amusing: her second brother Li Xian’s eldest son had been born! He still had no wife; this son was born to a concubine. Li Yuechen went for a look and noticed that Li Xian’s attitude toward his son was rather indifferent.

It seemed that in this era, sons born to concubines were about as valued as bonuses thrown in with a purchase. Still, a child was a continuation of the bloodline, and Li Xian seemed pleased enough.

Li Yuechen, for her part, showed great fondness for the child. Seeing his little sister so delighted with the baby, Li Xian himself looked at the child a few more times. But Li Yuechen doubted whether her brother, still only seventeen or eighteen, was up to the task of raising a child.

…

Two days later, Li Yuechen visited the home of Liu Rengui. After checking on her recent training progress, the master and disciple engaged in a war game on the sand table to test Li Yuechen’s grasp of military strategy.

She had already read all the military books Liu Rengui had given her, and her comprehension was decent; at the very least, her ability to discuss strategy on paper—or rather, on the sand table—had improved greatly. Across the sand table, their mock battle was evenly matched.

Looking up at the sun, which was nearly at its zenith, Liu Rengui set down his stick with a cheerful smile. “Your Highness is accustomed to three meals a day. Why not have lunch at my humble residence today?”

Li Yuechen looked up. “But Master, your family just ate. Can you manage another meal so soon?”

“Hahaha, no need to worry, Your Highness. My household now does the same: a light breakfast, one meal at noon, and one at dusk,” Liu Rengui explained with a smile.

“That’s good,” Li Yuechen nodded. “Has Master ever tried hotpot?”

“Naturally! Shall we have hotpot today?”

“I’ll leave it to Master to arrange,” Li Yuechen replied with a smile.

At lunch, the table seated only Liu Rengui and Li Yuechen; his family had been sent to eat in the back hall. After all, she was a princess—no matter what, Liu Rengui couldn’t have his family dine at the same table as royalty.

The two ate and conversed, the atmosphere harmonious. Yet, at the perfect moment, Liu Rengui abruptly changed the subject, “Lately, it seems His Majesty intends to appoint Ashina Duzhi as Grand General of the Left Vanguard and Commander of Fuyan, with the purpose of assembling the Five Dulu. Your Highness is aware of this?”

Li Yuechen, just about to pop a piece of lamb into her mouth, froze, her mind racing.

Why is he telling me this?

She couldn’t fathom what was happening. Was it really appropriate for a court official to discuss such matters with a princess?

Her years of reading hadn’t been in vain; she understood the implications behind his words.

The Tang court’s policy toward its surrounding minorities was generally one of appeasement, but its management was notoriously lax. Nominally, these tribes had to accept the oversight and command of the local Protectorate, but in practice, they operated much like autonomous regions, enjoying significant administrative and fiscal autonomy.

Tribal leaders often served as governors or commanders, and these posts could be inherited. Such regions were known as “loose-rein prefectures,” and Fuyan was one of them.

Currently, the Western Turks consisted of ten clans, split into left and right factions. The right was called the Five Nushibi, and the left, the Five Dulu—these were the very ones Liu Rengui mentioned.

The factions were far from harmonious, constantly fighting over grain, people, and land.

Now, it seemed Li Zhi wanted to broker peace. But what did all this have to do with her?

She’d heard about these matters during court news but had never intended to get involved.

With this in mind, Li Yuechen put on a silly, innocent smile. “Why does Master bring this up with me? I don’t understand court affairs!”

But Liu Rengui, looking as if he saw through everything, stroked his beard and said, “If Your Highness doesn’t understand, why do you visit the throne room every few days to listen to the proceedings?”

Li Yuechen’s eyes widened. “How did Master know?”

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“Hahahaha…” Liu Rengui burst out laughing. “I didn’t know at first, but I noticed His Majesty glancing toward the screen during court and grew curious. Now that I’ve asked, it’s clear—it was Your Highness!”

Damn! I’ve been tricked!

Li Yuechen was startled, then resigned. He had quite the nerve, daring to test even her. He must have a death wish.

Still, as his disciple, she had no intention of reporting her master to the emperor.

She shoved the lamb into her mouth, then looked up. “Master is clever! But I only go because I’m bored, listening in on court just to pass the time.”

Liu Rengui acted as though he hadn’t heard, continuing, “What is Your Highness’s opinion on the matter?”

Sit and watch, obviously!

Li Yuechen’s principle was to listen and observe, speaking as little as possible, and to avoid involvement in court affairs whenever possible. But, considering that people like Liu Rengui might influence the emperor’s decisions, she offered, “Your disciple believes, owing to recent droughts, this is not the time to wage war.”

After all, the battle of Dafeichuan had been a thorn in Li Zhi’s side. If he let his temper get the better of him and insisted on sending troops, it could spell disaster for the nation.

Her comment was simply to state her view. War affected not only soldiers’ lives but also had far-reaching effects on the economy and people’s livelihoods. Now was certainly not the time for military action.

Liu Rengui nodded, rolling the health ball Li Yuechen had given him. “I share Your Highness’s view. I trust His Majesty knows this as well.”

So why on earth did you test me today?

Alas, Li Yuechen never did work out Liu Rengui’s motives. After lunch, she took her leave.

On the carriage ride home, she leaned against the doorframe, pondering why Liu Rengui had acted as he had.

By rights, as a minister, even if he discovered her eavesdropping on court, he ought not to have brought it up. If she were a man, perhaps he’d be considering whom to align with—after all, with a master-disciple bond, if she were to rise, his future would be secure.

But she was a woman! Wu Zetian hadn’t even ascended the throne yet—surely he didn’t expect a princess to inherit the throne?

No matter how she thought about it, the whole affair felt bizarre. Liu Rengui was a shrewd old hand in court; why would he act so recklessly?

Wait! Suddenly, Li Yuechen felt she’d spotted a blind spot. Was she simply overthinking?

One premise: Liu Rengui knew her character well and understood his disciple would never complain to the emperor about him.

Then, could this whole thing have been a straightforward lesson?

Historically, though no woman had yet become emperor, there had been female generals! The most recent was Princess Pingyang at the founding of the dynasty, who had even been buried with military honors.

If that was his intention…

Li Yuechen bit her lower lip. Did he want her to command troops?

It was entirely possible. In this era, legacy was everything. He’d often lamented that neither his sons nor grandsons were suited to inherit his mantle.

So, did he want her to carry on his legacy?

At this, Li Yuechen nodded slightly to herself. Clever, as always!

…

Back at Anfu Hall, Shangguan Wan’er ran over. “Your Highness, teach me to fly a kite!”

“There’s no wind today, not ideal for kites,” Li Yuechen replied, glancing upward. “Shall I call the two princesses and we play shuttlecock instead?”

“Yes, yes!” Shangguan Wan’er nodded happily. “That sounds fun too!”

“Go fetch the princesses, then. I’ll wait outside,” Li Yuechen said, patting her head with a smile.

“Yes, Your Highness!” Shangguan Wan’er ran off to fetch Princess Xuancheng and Princess Yiyang.

Outside the hall, Li Yuechen glanced about, thinking it might be fun to build a parkour training ground in the palace. Of course, in this era, one couldn’t hope to leap between skyscrapers, but a training ground wasn’t out of the question.

Still, the thought left her a bit resigned. Who knew how people in the other world would report her death?

“Shocking! Parkour expert slips on soap and falls from the fourteenth floor while cleaning windows at home!”

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Just imagining such a headline, Li Yuechen felt that time travel wasn’t so bad—at least in this era, she couldn’t possibly fall from a fourteenth floor.

Before long, Shangguan Wan’er arrived with the two princesses, shuttlecock in hand, and they began to play together.

…

Meanwhile, in Renshou Hall, Liu Rengui was reporting his encounter with Li Yuechen to Li Zhi and Wu Zetian. Today, only the three of them were present, not even the attendant official—meaning this conversation would not be recorded in the annals of history.

After Liu Rengui finished his report, Li Zhi, reclining in a rocking chair, rotated a health ball in his hand, his smile unchanged. “Minister Liu, do you believe Chen’er has the talent to assume great military responsibility?”

Liu Rengui bowed. “At present, Her Highness is quick-witted, perceptive, and possesses a strategic mind. During our war games, she demonstrated remarkable vision. However, when it comes to attitude…”

He paused, searching for the right words.

“No need to hesitate; with no outsiders here today, you may speak freely,” Li Zhi said.

Liu Rengui continued, “I have observed in Her Highness a certain playfulness toward life. She is undoubtedly gifted, but seems rather averse to trouble.”

Li Zhi nodded with a smile. “That’s quite true!”

After some more discussion, Liu Rengui took his leave.

Now only Li Zhi and Wu Zetian remained in Renshou Hall.

After a moment of silence, Wu Zetian set down her brush and looked up. “Why did you have Liu Zhengze test Chen’er?”

From his rocking chair, Li Zhi grinned. “I thought you’d resist asking, Meiniang!”

Wu Zetian sighed. “Don’t tease. What’s your true reason?”

Li Zhi let out a small sigh. “Hong’er is indeed kind and filial, but his nature is rather inflexible. As an official, he might protect the people well, but to be an emperor, he’s too soft.”

“So this test of Chen’er was because…”

Li Zhi nodded. “Chen’er is steadfast and disciplined, with strategic vision—she has an emperor’s talent! If only she weren’t a woman… But with such ability, she could be a great general. Most importantly, she’s on good terms with her brothers. If, in the future, she can assist Hong’er, the empire will be secure.”

Wu Zetian seemed puzzled. “But Chen’er is still young—how can you be sure she isn’t inflexible?”

Li Zhi stopped turning the health ball. “If Chen’er were inflexible, she would have pleaded on Helan Minzhi’s behalf from the start!”

At this, Wu Zetian stiffened, her eyes wide. “How did Your Majesty know…”

She fell silent before finishing her question.

Li Zhi smirked, revealing neat rows of teeth. “In this world, what can be hidden from me?”

Wu Zetian was stunned for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Then I suppose you know why we kept it from you?”

“You!” Li Zhi shot her a look and shook his head. “I know you and Chen’er kept it from me for my sake, but in the future, you mustn’t hide things from me again!”

Wu Zetian smiled gently. “I understand.”

Li Zhi resumed rolling the health ball. “Take the recent drought, for example. Chen’er thought to increase grain yields. Hong’er, most likely, would simply open the granaries. In any case, if Chen’er and Hong’er can cooperate in the future, they’ll be like you and Empress Dugu—another ruler behind the scenes of the Tang Dynasty!”

Hearing this, Wu Zetian fully understood his intention.

She knew her husband well; Li Zhi, still under the influence of Zhangsun Wuji, trusted those closest to him more than the entire court of ministers.

For instance, herself.

Perhaps it was precisely for this reason that she, like Empress Dugu, could govern the country alongside him.

Now, he wanted to find such an aide for the crown prince. Unable to find one outside, he turned his gaze to his own youngest daughter.

Yet her face betrayed a hint of worry. “But Chen’er will eventually have to marry…”

“Marry?”

Li Zhi suddenly turned sharply, his eyes wide with disbelief—as if he had never considered this possibility.

Wu Zetian couldn’t fathom his reaction. “Why such a look?”

Li Zhi lowered his eyes, the health ball spinning rapidly in his hand. “I… can’t bear it!”

Seeing his bashful expression, Wu Zetian found it endearing. She smiled, “You can’t bear for Chen’er to marry?”

“In the whole world, only someone more outstanding than I deserves Chen’er!” Li Zhi declared.