Chapter Twenty-Four: The Righteous Cause of Celestial Strategy

“Heaven and earth are mysterious and yellow, the universe vast and wild, the sun and moon wax and wane, constellations spread across the sky, cold comes, heat departs, autumn harvest, winter... store?”

A sharp crack resounded.

“Ouch! Who hit me?” A boy of about ten years old, wincing in pain, rubbed the back of his head. As he turned, the book in his hands fell to the ground.

“Simpleton, you got it wrong. It's ‘autumn harvest, winter storage.’ ‘Storage’ means to collect and store, not the ‘Daoist Canon.’”

Behind him, a man in a white robe laughed as he tossed a pine nut over.

Li Fu and Yang Zixu had just stepped into the gates of the Tiance Mansion and witnessed this scene.

“Chu Ge, you’re bullying Xu Xianghe again,” Yang Zixu teased the young man.

“Zixu? Aren’t you supposed to be staying in the Shangling Academy? Why are you here again? Aren’t you afraid Director Yang will put you under house arrest?” Chu Ge dropped the pine nut from his hand, patted his palms, and smiled.

“I heard from Brother Yang Ning yesterday that you returned. So, tell me, after your victory in the northwest, didn’t you bring me any gifts?” Yang Zixu asked.

“What good things can I find among the Rongdi for you? But, this time I did seize a longbow from a deputy commander of the Rongdi. I’ll give it to you later,” Chu Ge replied helplessly.

Chu Ge was long used to such requests. Though Yang Zixu was still a student at Shangling Academy, he and Xu Xianghe had been playing in the Tiance Mansion since childhood; it could be said Tiance was their second home.

“The Rongdi live by herding, so their bows are naturally excellent. A deputy commander’s bow, hmm… not bad, it’s a fine thing,” Yang Zixu nodded in satisfaction.

Nearby, the young Xu Xianghe suddenly interjected, “Chu Ge, you’re biased! I fancied that bow yesterday, why not give it to me?”

“Haha, you should focus on your studies,” Chu Ge patted Xu Xianghe’s small head with a smile.

“I don’t like studying, I want to learn how to fight,” Xu Xianghe grumbled, pouting.

“Simpleton, you don’t even understand the Tiance Creed: ‘Eradicate all evildoers,’ how can you learn to fight?” Chu Ge affectionately picked up the book from the ground and handed it back to the child. “Study well, and you’ll be like your father someday.”

...

“This must be this year’s top scholar in the Lantern Festival Imperial Examination?” Chu Ge glanced at Li Fu, who was scrutinizing the massive stone tablet at the entrance, and spoke.

“I am Li Fu. Greetings,” Li Fu withdrew his gaze from the stone tablet and responded politely.

---

“Well, save the pleasantries for later. Let’s call Jiang Moyuan and have a good drink together. You two must be lucky to have returned after three months with the army. Today, let’s celebrate properly,” Yang Zixu interrupted their conversation.

“You brat, drinking here in Tiance Mansion—do you want Brother Yang to whip you with the teaching stick?” Chu Ge chuckled. This young master had a reputation for mischief; everyone in Eastern Capital knew that the son of the Divine General’s Mansion was unruly.

“Let’s go, we’ll find Jiang Moyuan in the rear courtyard,” said Yang Zixu, pulling Li Fu along.

The place wasn’t large, much smaller than Shangling Academy, but its scenery far surpassed the academy. According to Yang Zixu, Tiance Mansion’s landscape was the best in the capital.

In fact, Tiance was divided into two areas. Chang’an Street marked the boundary. At its deepest end, adjoining the Daming Palace, was the administrative section, core of Tiance. There, the three Divine Generals, twelve Military Lords, and twenty-four Censors managed daily affairs. Yet, the Lord Martial rarely returned.

Where they now stood was the Tiance Academy, located at the head of Chang’an Street.

Passing through the front hall, Li Fu and his companions entered the student dormitories of Tiance Academy. Yang Zixu was right: the scenery here was magnificent. Early spring had come, but the chill lingered; plum blossoms bloomed quietly—white, pink, red—crowding the branches in lively clusters.

Li Fu gazed silently at the beautiful sea of blossoms. Petals from the plum grove carpeted the ground like a delicate rug.

Though the national flower of Tang was not the plum, the plum’s unyielding spirit and strength were cherished. No matter how harsh the conditions, it maintained its character. Thus, the plum blossom was beloved by the Tang aristocracy, who saw themselves reflected in it.

Looking at the plum grove, Li Fu understood why the stone tablet in the front hall was engraved with “Eradicate all evildoers for Tiance.” This was Tiance’s unyielding spirit.

Many from the Tiance Academy were still away, stationed with the northwest army. Though the invasion of the Rongdi had been repelled, the northwest threat lingered.

Since the founding of Tang eight hundred years ago, the borders had never been truly peaceful. The Rongdi in the northwest eyed them hungrily; in the south was Yan, and in the north the barbarians, persistent as a rash.

Over the centuries, the Rongdi and barbarians had grown stronger, forming an alliance twenty years prior, nearly rivaling Tang. This led to endless wars at the borders, sapping the nation’s strength.

Internally, Tang was not united. The Divine Strategy Mansion, led by the Shangguan clan, secretly opposed Tiance. Since the reign of the Empress Dowager, the court had endured three bloody purges. The white jade steps before the Hall of Supreme Harmony still bore faint reddish stains—traces of bloodshed.

The struggle for the throne was always accompanied by slaughter; none could remain untouched. The wise Lord Changsun, or the Divine General Xue, all perished amid the turbulence.

Whether the Divine Strategy Mansion, the ancient Imperial Forest Army, or the regional garrisons, from commanders to generals, the iron blood had long faded. Defeats on the field, sycophancy in the court—each grew worse.

Tiance, on the other hand, constantly mobilized forces across Tang, striving to defend its borders. In the past decade alone, a million Tiance soldiers had died in battle. Countless soldiers marched to the frontier, only to sleep there forever.

The Lord Martial’s tireless efforts brought not honor but increased suspicion from the royal family. In the northwest campaign, Tiance’s provisions were cut off, seventy thousand troops fought the Rongdi on empty stomachs. Had the Lord Martial not forcibly requisitioned taxes from four southeastern counties, the army would have perished by their own hands before the enemy even arrived.

Beyond the plum grove, the scenery by the eastern wing caught Li Fu’s attention: a pond clogged with silt, dotted with fallen plum petals and a few withered branches.

“It’s said the soil at Shangling Academy was poor, so the Grand Tutor dug this pond here. The lotus seeds inside were personally planted by the Grand Tutor,” Chu Ge explained.

---

“That’s right, the Master loved lotus flowers too,” Li Fu smiled. For days, he had wondered if the Master was the Grand Tutor. Now, seeing the lotus pond, he understood: the Master was indeed the Grand Tutor.

The lotus pond before the Master’s house in Rice Fragrance Village was identical to this one. And here, too, stood an unremarkable small thatched hut.

Behind the hut lay a vast stretch of wasteland, overgrown with weeds, where several massive stone tablets rose at a slant from the tall grass. The scene clashed with the ancient simplicity of Shangling Academy.

Li Fu was puzzled—how could this place be so overgrown? Driven by curiosity, he walked over.

...

“Don’t bother looking. There’s nothing worth seeing here—it’s all royal graves.”

Yang Zixu was used to it; the wild grass had been there since he could remember, never tended. It was so when the Grand Tutor lived here, and it remained unchanged.

“This is where the deposed Crown Prince is buried?” Li Fu stopped and examined the stone tablets.

“Yes. It’s said Emperor Taizong buried the deposed Crown Prince here. But few know that more than one royal is interred here,” Yang Zixu glanced at the broken tablets and sneered.

“It’s hard to understand why the Lord Martial and Grand Tutor chose this spot for Shanglin Garden,” Yang Zixu mused.

“Does the royal family never care about their buried kin?” Li Fu asked.

“Royal family? Would you care where those who tried to kill you are buried?” Yang Zixu shot Li Fu a glance. “But when the Lord Martial founded Shanglin Garden, he said: ‘No matter what, they are still descendants of Taizong.’ So Shanglin Garden stands guard here, as Tiance guards Tang.”

...

Over two hundred and thirty years since Tang’s founding, through the prosperous reigns of Taizu, Taizong, and Gaozong, followed by Emperor Wu’s change of dynasty name and the current ruler, each era was stained with royal blood. Even the white jade steps of the Hall of Supreme Harmony had been tinged brown, the color fading but never gone.

“Let’s go, let’s have a look outside,” Li Fu recalled the events chronicled in the books from Rice Fragrance Village, his heart trembling.

Shanglin Garden was nothing more than the tomb of those who had failed.