Among the many states of the Spring and Autumn period, Jin was the most powerful. Its founding ruler was the son of King Wu of Zhou, Ji Fa, and at one time, it had even borne the name "Tang." With formidable national strength, Jin often suppressed the states of Qi, Chu, and Qin. It wasn't until over six centuries later, when Zhao, Han, and Wei partitioned Jin, that the state truly perished. Yet though Jin fell, its bureaucratic system, script, and calendrical science lived on through its successors.
The emperor conferred the title of Prince of Jin upon his second son, a move that hinted strongly at designating an heir. As the legitimate firstborn, Li Zhang's appointment raised no objections. The fifth prince, meanwhile, was named Prince of Zhao—a subtle directive to support his elder brother, their shared blood a symbol of unity. The third and fourth princes, both prominent among the emperor's concubine-born sons, had long assisted in state affairs; after many years of marriage, it was high time they received their titles.
As for the ninth prince... the messenger merely reported that His Majesty praised Li Ce's twenty-year vigil over the imperial mausoleum—his devotion, like a filial bird's loyalty, had moved heaven itself. "Filial piety and brotherly respect" were the cornerstones of governance; to bestow a title upon such virtue was to win the people's hearts.
But Li Ce—was he truly worthy? Worthy of receiving a princely title before his elder siblings? Worthy of a designation second only to the Prince of Jin?
While the messenger hurried off to prepare for the imperial edict, Prince Zhao, Li Jing, muttered in sudden realization, "So... guarding the tomb wins you a princely title now?"
Lounging lazily upon a meditation cushion, he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You're doomed. Can you imagine the envy? What will Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth think? And their wives? The former princesses, now all upgraded to royal consorts—at family gatherings, the new ones kneel while they dine. They'll be seething with jealousy."
Though his rank was slightly lower and he ought to have knelt to take his leave, Li Ce seemed momentarily stunned. There was no visible joy on his face—only a murmur to himself, "How did this happen?"
Clearly, he was not a man who foresaw every twist. He had predicted that the emperor would suppress Li Long by elevating others, but had not imagined he would be among them.
"Indeed!" Li Jing slapped his thigh. "If I were you, I'd rush to Father and decline the title. Who knows? He might praise you even more for your humility. In all of history, those who drew envy never lived long."
"I won't," Li Ce shook his head. "I will go and give thanks."
"And what if others object?" Li Jing asked.
"That is their concern."Li Ce's voice was soft and gentle, yet it carried a chilling resolve.
Realizing persuasion was futile, Li Jing helplessly tucked the Taishan stone back into his sleeve and muttered, "Just make sure you live long enough to move into your new residence. And build it far from mine."
At the residence of Prince Su, his aides could no longer sit still. Messengers came and went in constant flux, each bringing graver news than the last.
Though the emperor voiced no censure toward Li Long, the enfeoffment of five princes—each title laden with implication—spoke volumes. To elevate was only a prelude to the fall.
"What will they do?" Li Long asked, seething with rage.
"The courtiers are shrewd," one aide replied. "They may ride the wind, and to curry favor, might even fabricate charges against Your Highness."
The emperor had not pursued the matter of the willow branches switched along the imperial path. To the people, he still seemed magnanimous and forgiving. But his actions hinted otherwise—a clear message: his trust in Prince Su had waned, and favor now shifted to his other sons.
While the steward offered a calm analysis, Li Long could not compose himself. He slammed the table with both fists, his spirit sinking. "It seems… I should never have returned to the capital."
"One possible path," another adviser proposed, "is to strike before they do. The Ninth Prince is currently convalescing in the capital, and the mausoleum lies unguarded. Your Highness might request to oversee it yourself."
It was a strategy of self-inflicted sacrifice for survival. So long as Li Ce remained unwell, Li Long would be bound to the mausoleum. Should Li Ce perish, he might well spend the rest of his life in the mountains of Jiuzong. Titles, ambitions, imperial aspirations—all would vanish into mist.
Li Long donned his court attire and presented his tally at the palace gate. An eunuch led him toward the Hall of Purple Radiance. The path from the gates to the hall was long. Though the sky was not overcast, a light rain began to fall.
"Please wait a moment, Your Highness. I shall fetch an umbrella," the eunuch said, scurrying off.
Li Long stood motionless, head tilted upward, eyes fixed upon the grand palace. A man of war, he cared little for rain, but as he was about to appear before the emperor, it was best to remain presentable. Otherwise, those censorial officials would again cry misconduct—seemingly their only refrain.
As he stood in silence, he noticed a figure approaching along the wide path.
Fair-faced and solemn, the young man bore a striking resemblance to the emperor. He wore a cerulean robe embroidered with mountains and spirits, a flawless obsidian jade pendant at his waist, tied with a white jade sash. His posture was erect, his head slightly bowed—not out of humility, but because he was reading.
It was the second prince, Li Zhang.
In his left hand he held a crimson bamboo-handled umbrella; in his right, a book. His expression was tranquil as still water; his steps as gentle as the spring breeze. Eyes never straying from the page, he strolled leisurely through the palace corridor, occasionally flipping a page, engrossed.
Behind him trailed attendants, eunuchs, and maids, none daring to disturb his peace.
As Li Zhang neared, Li Long couldn't help but speak, attempting familiarity."So it's you, Second Brother."
Li Zhang did not halt, merely walked past without pause.Li Long, whose hearing was sharp, caught a faint response: "Mm."
A single syllable. Emotionless, airy, as if Li Long were no more than a tree by the roadside—unworthy of attention or interaction.
Li Long's face flushed crimson. Fortunately, all present kept their heads lowered, and none witnessed his embarrassment.
After this, he could stand there no longer. Abandoning the eunuch, he strode toward the Hall of Purple Radiance.
The emperor was deep in council with his ministers. Li Long waited for half an hour before being summoned.
Kneeling, he made his request—to guard the mausoleum out of concern for Li Ce, claiming his own robust health and sincere filial devotion.
The emperor frowned slightly and exchanged a glance with Gao Fu before responding, "Your timing is unfortunate. I have already granted this duty to Li Zhang."
Li Zhang?
Li Long froze as if struck by lightning.
He had returned to the capital because of Li Zhang's manipulation. Driven by resentment, he sought to marry Ye Jiao of the Duke of Anguo's household, even orchestrating the switch of willow branches. And yet, every time, he had lost—lost so completely that even the princely title went to Li Zhang.
Now that he had won, instead of consolidating power in the capital, Li Zhang chose to depart for the mausoleum?
So the imperial tomb had become a coveted position?
No—it wasn't a question of doubt. It was fear.
Li Zhang had foreseen his every move and blocked the path before he could take a step.
Thunder roared within Li Long's mind, leaving him drained, furious, and powerless. Sweat dripped down his brow.
He recalled the corridor and Li Zhang's cold "Mm."It had sounded like a death sentence.
In Li Zhang's eyes, he was already dead.
"Li Long," the emperor called, pulling him back from his chaotic thoughts. "Look at these."
What?
Li Long raised his head in confusion, only to see a stack of memorials two feet high upon the imperial desk.
The emperor opened one and began to read aloud:"Impeachment of Prince Su for misappropriation of military rations.""Impeachment of Prince Su for embezzling army pay.""Impeachment of Prince Su for nepotism and courtly manipulation.""Impeachment of Prince Su for unauthorized troop deployments…"
With each sentence, he tossed the memorial aside for Li Long to read himself.
Li Long felt an icy chill seep through his very bones.
So fast. The censors and courtiers moved so swiftly.
They no longer accused him of petty improprieties. Every word now carried the weight of grave crimes.
The emperor could not be bothered to read them all. Shaking his head, he sighed—his face, in that instant, seemed to age by a decade.
"This realm does not belong to the Li family," he said quietly. "It belongs to the people. If the people do not revere you, if the court does not trust you, then there is little I can do."