Postscript: May every Li Wei meet her Li Zhi.
To everyone who has read this far:
I am Li Xin.
As the last line fell to the page, I seemed to hear the sound of Princess Taiping's rattle-drum echoing from a thousand years ago. This story began with an obsession—I wanted to give that woman, deliberately obscured in male-dominated history books, a complete moon.
The historical Wu Zetian abdicated alone at the Yingxian Palace at the age of eighty-two. Before her death, she relinquished her imperial title and referred to herself only as "Empress Zetian the Great Sage." She won the world, but lost all her closest relatives.
The Li Wei I created wanted both power and the person who would give her candied fruit when her medicine tasted bitter.
As I wrote this ending, a petal fell from the crabapple tree outside the window. It reminded me of the plum blossom, wet with rain, that Wu Zetian—no, Li Wei—picked up at Ganye Temple.
The initial motivation for creating this story was resentment. Resentment that the powerful and shrewd empress of history could only be remembered in later generations as a "hen crowing at dawn." Resentment that the talented woman who wrote "seeing red as green" at Ganye Temple ultimately lived a lonely life.
I think: Why can't we have both?
And so, Li Wei came into being.
She possesses the wisdom of a modern person, yet retains a longing for love. She can command respect in the court, and she also knows how to shed tears at her lover's bedside. Her strength is not cold and hard, but rather a profound understanding of the world without being cynical.
As for Li Zhi, I gave him the most precious quality—the ability to appreciate a strong partner. His love was not about possession, but about fulfillment; not about charity, but about standing shoulder to shoulder. Such a man deserved Wu Zetian's deep affection.
I ultimately didn't write about Li Dan, mainly because I increasingly felt the difficulties Li Wei faced as a mother, and after much consideration, I decided to omit her. Princess Anding's identity hasn't been fully confirmed yet, so I also chose to omit her.
In this story:
I described the wind-related illness as a curable, intractable disease.
Let the Grand Canal become a testament to love.
• To make primary schools a bridge to peace
Transforming the Imperial Seal of the State into the deepest love letter
These alterations are not intended to overturn history, but rather to create a parallel universe outside the established historical records. In this world, a woman's talent does not have to be exchanged for loneliness, and an emperor's deep affection does not have to be paid for with an early death.
Many of my friends say this is "ideal love." It is indeed ideal, but not impossible.
I especially want to say to female readers: Look, Wu Zetian's focused concentration while reviewing memorials is beautiful, and her gentleness while testing medicine for Li Zhi is also beautiful. We don't need to choose between career and love, just as the sun and moon never compete for brilliance, simply because they share the same sky.
Thank you:
Accompanying Li Wei from Ganye Temple to Daming Palace
Overjoyed at Li Zhi's recovery, I wept.
• Amused by Taiping's rattle drum
Leave a comment at the "Sun and Moon Shining Together" section.
Thank you to everyone who has come this far.
It is you who gave Li Wei's story warmth, and allowed the glorious era of the sun and moon shining together to live on forever in words.
Finally, please allow me to offer my blessings in the name of Li Xin:
May every Li Wei striving in the workplace meet a Li Zhi who understands your aspirations;
May every Wu Zetian struggling in the deep palace be able to wait for the emperor who says, "I will share the mountains and rivers with you."
May all sincere feelings transcend time and space and see the light of day.
The story may end, but the love will not.
May they in the other world be forever happy and healthy.
Li Xin
During the season of falling flowers in Chang'an
(Let this crabapple blossom drift towards the plum grove at Ganye Temple—go and see for me the lovers who stroll hand in hand, gazing upon the landscape.)
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