Chapter 120 The Twilight of the Zhenguan Era, The Promise of Penglai
The winter of the twenty-second year of the Zhenguan era seemed longer and colder than in previous years. The charcoal fire in the Liangyi Hall burned day and night, and the fragrance of medicine mixed with agarwood could not mask the increasingly heavy aura of decay.
Li Shimin spent most of his time lying on his couch. His once sharp, hawk-like gaze now often appeared unfocused and weary. Only occasionally, when he heard Crown Prince Li Chengqian reporting on important state affairs, or when he saw Wang Yi approaching with a bowl of medicine, would a fleeting glimmer of light appear in his eyes. His hair was almost entirely white, and his face was gaunt. Only his straight nose and occasionally tightly pursed lips still faintly retained the bearing of the former Grand General of Heavenly Strategy and Emperor Zhenguan.
Wang Yi stayed by Li Shimin's side almost every step of the way. Qixia Garden was long forgotten; the quiet study and herb garden seemed like another world altogether. She personally tested and fed him medicine, massaged his aching limbs from prolonged bed rest, and when he was in slightly better spirits, chatted with him or sat quietly beside him, watching him drift off to sleep. Her face remained serene, revealing little emotion, but deep within her always clear and bright eyes lay a complex and indescribable mix of feelings: concern, scrutiny, and perhaps… a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of relief at the imminent completion of her mission, and… a touch of melancholy?
The affairs of state had been almost entirely handed over to Crown Prince Li Chengqian. Li Chengqian would come to pay his respects daily, providing a concise report on important matters and receiving his father's final instructions. Li Shimin listened attentively, but rarely offered specific opinions, often simply nodding and saying, "You handle it as you see fit," or occasionally reminding him, "Don't be too hasty; stability is paramount." He knew his son was now capable of handling things independently, even more adept at wielding power than he had been at his age, and also...lacking some of the "benevolence" and flexibility he had once cherished. But he was powerless and unwilling to interfere further. This empire was about to be completely handed over to Chengqian.
The construction of the mausoleum, under the personal supervision of Prince Li Zhi, was progressing day and night and was nearing completion. Li Zhi handled the matter with utmost care, personally overseeing every detail, both to fulfill his filial duty and perhaps to keep himself busy, avoiding being overwhelmed by the grief of losing his father and the uncertainty of the future. He would occasionally visit his father, but always in a hurry, offering his greetings before quietly withdrawing, leaving more time for the Crown Prince and… Master Wang. He knew that in the final moments of his father's life, what he needed most was his brother's reports and Master Wang's company.
That day, fine snowflakes began to fall outside the window again. Inside the palace, the charcoal fire burned brightly, and Li Shimin seemed to be in better spirits than usual after taking his medicine. He asked the eunuch to help him sit up slightly, leaning against the thick, soft pillows, and looked at Wang Yi sitting beside him on the couch.
“Zhenren,” his voice was low and hoarse, yet exceptionally clear, “you’ve had a tough time these past few days.
"Your Majesty is too kind. This is merely my duty." Wang Yi lowered his eyes and gently wiped his withered hands with a warm handkerchief.
Li Shimin remained silent for a moment, his gaze seemingly piercing through the palace ceiling, looking towards the distant void. "I... have spent half my life in battle and the other half in governing the country. I have experienced moments of exhilaration and revenge, as well as moments of regret and remorse. I have witnessed mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and I have seen nations pay tribute. Now, looking back... it all seems like a grand dream."
Wang Yi didn't respond, but just listened quietly.
“I often think of the ‘Penglai’ you told me about back then.” Li Shimin suddenly turned his gaze back to her, his eyes revealing an almost childlike curiosity and longing. “Is there... truly no such trouble there? Is it really possible to... stay together forever, carefree and at ease?”
Wang Yi's heart stirred, and she met his gaze. In his eyes, she saw a final romantic imagination and longing for the unknown beyond the realm of an old man nearing the end of his life—a longing that transcended even the emperor's status and the father-son/ruler-subject relationship. Perhaps, deep in his heart, the "Penglai" she had casually described was no longer just a fairyland overseas, but an ultimate refuge for pure peace and freedom from all responsibility and constraints.
She nodded, her voice soft yet firm: "Yes, Your Majesty. There are no court intrigues, no fratricide, no unbearable burdens. Only the sea and sky merge into one, the clouds drift and roll, where one can quietly watch the sunrise and sunset, where one can... stay together for a long time."
Li Shimin's eyes brightened for a moment, then dimmed again, tinged with a deeper twilight. "It's a pity... I can't go. I am the emperor, the Son of Heaven of the Tang Dynasty, my final resting place... is in Zhaoling, in the history books, in... this vast land."
Wang Yi gently held his cold hand and whispered, "Your Majesty, if you are willing... in your... final moments, I can take you to see it. To see the real 'Penglai'."
She finally uttered the promise she had prepared and hesitated over for so long. Taking him "back" was her initial goal, an explanation to her daughters, and perhaps also to a corner of her own heart. Now, the time seemed ripe.
Li Shimin's body trembled almost imperceptibly. He gripped Wang Yi's hand tightly, with a strength unlike that of a dying old man. He stared intently into her eyes, as if trying to discern truth from falsehood and see through all the secrets beneath her calm exterior.
After a long while, he slowly let go, exhaled a long, weary breath, and closed his eyes.
“Alright.” His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it carried a strange calmness and resolve. “When I… am exhausted and my life is over, then, Master… take me to see that ‘Penglai’. I want… to be with you forever.”
These words don't sound like an emperor's entrustment to his subject; they sound more like a man's final plea and promise to his beloved woman. They transcend the boundaries between ruler and subject, even transcending life and death.
Wang Yi felt as if something had gently struck her heart, creating a subtle yet lasting ripple. Looking at the once powerful and influential old man before her, now as fragile as a candle in the wind, she nodded solemnly: "Your subject obeys the decree."
This "obeying the imperial decree" is no longer merely the obedience of a subject to the monarch.
Since that day, Li Shimin's spirits seemed to have deteriorated further, and he spent increasingly longer periods in a coma. But when he occasionally woke up and saw Wang Yi by his side, his eyes would become exceptionally gentle and peaceful, as if he were truly looking forward to that "rendezvous with Penglai."
Li Chengqian keenly sensed the increasingly subtle, almost interdependent atmosphere between his father and Master Wang. He felt a strange, inexplicable emotion. But he didn't interfere; in fact, he instructed the palace servants to fulfill all of Master Wang's requests without the slightest neglect. He knew that his father needed this special comfort in his final days.
He also handled state affairs with even greater diligence, firmly grasping control of the court. The appeasement and further weakening of the remaining powerful families were carried out simultaneously, with more sophisticated methods. He also placed greater trust in his younger brother, Li Zhi, entrusting him with some important but less sensitive state affairs—both as training and as a gesture. He wanted to ensure that, in the final moments of the power transition, the imperial machinery could operate smoothly without any mishaps.
In the late spring of the twenty-third year of the Zhenguan era, the Liangyi Hall was filled with an overwhelming, pungent smell of medicine and agarwood, the air so thick it seemed you could wring water out of it. Outside, spring was in full bloom, a riot of flowers, yet none of it penetrated the palace shrouded in the shadow of death. The eunuchs and palace maids all stood with their breath held, heads bowed, barely daring to breathe.
On the imperial throne, Li Shimin was at his final moment. He was emaciated, his eyes sunken, but his eyes, when they occasionally opened, still emitted a piercing light—the last clarity and strength of a great emperor before the candle of his life was about to burn out.
He knew his time was near. He had summoned the prime minister and other high-ranking officials a few days prior to arrange his affairs after death. Now, it was time to see his sons.
"Summon...the Crown Prince, the Prince of Jin." His voice was hoarse and weak, yet it carried an undeniable authority.
The eunuch quickly bowed and withdrew. A short while later, Crown Prince Li Chengqian and Prince Li Zhi, one after the other, hurried into the inner palace. Both were dressed in mourning clothes, their faces somber, their eyes slightly red. Li Chengqian's steps were steady, but his tightly pursed lips betrayed his inner turmoil; Li Zhi, on the other hand, appeared even more sorrowful, his gaze towards his father filled with filial piety and reluctance.
The two brothers knelt before the dragon throne, kowtowed and said, "Your subjects pay their respects to Your Majesty."
Li Shimin's gaze slowly swept over his two sons, lingering for a moment on Li Chengqian's resolute yet weary face, then lingering on Li Zhi's gentle yet worried eyes. He laboriously raised his withered hand, gesturing for them to come closer.
Li Chengqian and Li Zhi quickly crawled forward on their knees, one on each side, and grasped their father's cold hands.
“Chengqian… Zhinu…” Li Shimin’s voice was broken and intermittent, but exceptionally clear, each word as if he had used up all his strength, “I… am about to die.”
"Father!" Li Chengqian choked with emotion, "You will surely recover!"
Li Zhi burst into tears, tightly gripping his father's hand, unable to speak.
Li Shimin gently shook his head, his gaze focusing on Li Chengqian's face: "Chengqian...you have done very well these years. Even better than I did back then...you were a bit ruthless, but...I can rest assured that this empire is in your hands."
He paused, took a few breaths, and then turned to Li Zhi: "Zhi Nu... you were very good too. That night at Xuanwu Gate... you did well, you did the right thing."
Mentioning "Xuanwu Gate" caused both Li Chengqian and Li Zhi to shudder. It was the deepest scar between the brothers, and an indelible pain in their father's heart.
Li Shimin's gaze became distant, as if he had traveled through time and space, seeing the bloody morning decades ago that changed his life and the fate of the empire. "Back then... at Xuanwu Gate, I... killed Jiancheng and Yuanji. For self-preservation, and for... this world. But the knot in my heart... has never been truly untied. Fratricide... is ultimately a human tragedy."
His gaze returned to his two sons, a mixture of relief and satisfaction in his eyes: "But you...you showed me a different possibility. It was the same Xuanwu Gate Incident, the same power struggle...Chengqian, though you pressed forward relentlessly, you never truly intended to kill Zhinu, and even...you were willing to give him a choice. Zhinu, you...you chose the most difficult, yet also the most correct, path. You didn't go mad like Li Tai, nor like...like I did back then...you preserved brotherly affection and also protected the country."
Li Shimin's voice suddenly rose a few decibels, filled with a kind of dying excitement: "You... have done better than me! Zhinu, you have done... better than I did back then! You have shown me that this throne, this power, does not necessarily have to be stained with the blood of one's closest relatives! I... am very gratified, truly gratified..."
He coughed violently, and Li Chengqian and Li Zhi hurriedly patted his back to help him catch his breath, tears welling up in their eyes.
After a long while, Li Shimin finally calmed down. His breathing was even weaker, but his eyes were unusually bright. He tightly grasped the hands of his two sons and put the three of their hands together.
"Chengqian, Zhinu... promise me." His gaze swept over the two brothers' faces. "From now on... no matter what happens, you must remember what I said tonight. You are brothers, born of the same mother, connected by blood. This empire needs you brothers to work together to protect it. Chengqian, you are the emperor, you must be tolerant, treat Zhinu well, trust him, and use him. Zhinu, you are a prince, my son, and also your elder brother's subject. You must do your utmost to assist your elder brother, and never have any disloyalty!"
"Your subject obeys the decree!" "Your subject obeys the decree!" Li Chengqian and Li Zhi responded in unison, their voices choked with emotion, yet resolute. At this moment, all the barriers, suspicions, and shadows of the past seemed to melt away like ice and snow in their father's dying entrustment and approval.
Li Shimin seemed to have relieved his greatest worry, a weary yet serene smile appearing on his face. He slowly released his grip, his gaze falling on Wang Yi, who had been quietly standing in the shadows at the foot of the couch.
“Real person…” he called out, his voice as soft as a whisper.
Wang Yi stepped forward and knelt down beside the couch.
"I... have a pact with the True Man." Li Shimin looked at Wang Yi, his eyes filled with undisguised trust and an almost childlike expectation. "At my... final moment, the True Man will take me... back to 'Penglai.' To be together forever..."
Upon hearing this, both Li Chengqian and Li Zhi were startled and turned sharply to look at Wang Yi, their eyes filled with disbelief. Penglai? That legendary overseas fairy mountain? Father Emperor wants to meet with Master Wang…
Wang Yi met Li Shimin's gaze, then looked at the two shocked princes, and slowly nodded, his voice clear and calm: "Yes, Your Majesty. I remember the agreement."
Li Shimin smiled with satisfaction. He looked again at Li Chengqian and Li Zhi, and with his last strength, clearly said, "Chengqian, Zhinu, listen. After my death, if my body is still alive, bury me in Zhaoling according to the rites, to be buried with your mother. If..."
He paused, his gaze returning to Wang Yi, filled with boundless imagination: "If the True Man... takes my physical body to fulfill our promise at Penglai, then erect a cenotaph for me at Zhaoling. Inside the coffin, there's no need to place my clothes; only... the phoenix-patterned jade pendant I personally placed on your mother's head during our wedding, and... the dragon-patterned jade pendant the Empress gave me in return. Let them... stand in place of me and the Empress, forever together at Zhaoling. I... and the True Man, will go to Penglai overseas, to live a carefree life..."
His voice trailed off, until it was completely silent. Li Shimin slowly closed his eyes, a peaceful and contented smile on his face, as if he could already see the beautiful scenery of Penglai.
“Father Emperor!” Li Chengqian and Li Zhi burst into tears and collapsed before the imperial bed.
Just as Li Shimin slowly closed his eyes, Wang Yi, who had been kneeling by the bed, suddenly reached out and gently grasped Li Shimin's already cold hand. An extremely faint, pale blue halo, barely perceptible only at close range, quietly rose from her sleeve, quickly spreading and completely enveloping her and Li Shimin's bodies.
Through his teary eyes, Li Chengqian seemed to glimpse a strange blue light. He looked up abruptly, but the blue light vanished in an instant, like an illusion. And on the dragon bed, his father's body... along with the figure of Master Wang, had vanished into thin air! Only an empty brocade quilt remained, along with a faint aura in the air, a mixture of medicinal fragrance and a strange energy.
Li Chengqian and Li Zhi were stunned, forgetting to cry, staring blankly at the empty dragon bed, as if they were in the most bizarre dream.
After a long while, Li Chengqian slowly came to his senses. He took a deep breath, suppressing the overwhelming shock and countless questions churning within him. He looked at his younger brother, Li Zhi, whose face was equally horrified. The two brothers' eyes met, and they both saw disbelief in each other's eyes, but even more so, a sense of awe and... obedience to their father's last wishes.
Li Chengqian stood up, wiping away the tears on his face, regaining the dignity and composure of the crown prince. He walked to the dragon bed, carefully examined it for a moment, and confirmed that his father and Wang Zhenren had indeed "disappeared." Only then did he turn to Li Zhi, and to the eunuchs and high-ranking officials who had rushed into the hall upon hearing the news and were equally terrified by the scene before them, and spoke in a deep voice. His voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable, authoritative force:
"By imperial decree: Emperor Taizong Wen passed away on the day of Ji Si in the fourth month of the twenty-third year of Zhenguan, at the hour of Chen 3:40. His soul has returned to the immortal Penglai Mountain. In accordance with the late emperor's last will, a cenotaph shall be built at Zhaoling, with the dragon and phoenix jade pendants of the emperor and empress buried with him, to be worshipped forever. The national mourning shall be observed in accordance with the established system, and the whole country shall mourn."
He offered no explanation for the inexplicable disappearance, but instead, in the most authoritative tone, declared his father's final "destination" and arrangements as a fait accompli. He sealed the promise of "Penglai" and "eternal companionship," along with the mysterious disappearance of Master Wang, within the highest secrets of the royal family and the heavy fog of history.
Li Zhi immediately understood his elder brother's intention. He suppressed his shock and bowed, replying, "Your subject obeys."
Although everyone in the hall was filled with surprise and doubt, no one dared to object under the clear direction set by the new emperor and the Prince of Jin. They could only bury their shock and confusion deep in their hearts and follow orders.
The Zhenguan era thus came to an end, its glorious yet mysterious curtain falling in a manner almost mythical. The Heavenly Khan who ushered in this golden age did not rest in the tomb he personally chose, but instead went with a mysterious woman to a "rendezvous with Penglai," a journey whose true destination remains unknown, yet is destined to be endlessly speculated upon by later generations.
The new era belonging to Li Chengqian, after the initial shock and complex emotions surrounding his father's final choice, officially began amidst national mourning and remembrance of the late emperor's "departure." The new interpretation of Xuanwu Gate, the edict of brotherly unity, and the figure that vanished forever in a pale blue halo would become the deepest and most complex underlying theme and driving force in the heart of the new emperor.
Springtime in Chang'an, tinged with sadness and an indescribable air of mystery, slowly faded away. A new chapter in history had already begun.
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