Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter Thirty: Li Shimin Has Actually Lost a Battle

Several months passed in the blink of an eye. Each day, Li Mingyu studied and practiced diligently, and he had already begun to grasp the fundamentals of the spear technique. During this period, Li Shimin also came to stay for a while in this mountain village—not only did he come, but his wife, Lady Zhangsun, accompanied him as well.

Lady Zhangsun would later be celebrated through the ages as the illustrious Empress of Virtue and Culture of the Great Tang. The two of them lingered in the mountains for over a month, spending their days wandering through the hills and rivers, enjoying a carefree and contented life. Through their conversations, Li Mingyu slowly came to understand the situation beyond the mountains, and at last, the true reason Li Shimin had abandoned his post as Grand Commander of the Right Route to live in seclusion here became clear to him.

It turned out that, with the full support of the Guanlong aristocracy, Li Yuan had effortlessly seized Chang’an and gained control over most of the Guanzhong region. He installed Yang You, grandson of Emperor Yang of Sui, as puppet emperor, posthumously honoring Yang Guang as Retired Emperor, changed the era name to Yining, and styled himself King of Tang and Grand Chancellor.

Not long after, news arrived that Emperor Yang of Sui had been killed in Jiangdu by Yuwen Huaji, who then proclaimed himself Grand Chancellor, led his army north, and prepared for a decisive battle with Li Mi. Seeing the opportunity was ripe, Li Yuan deposed Yang You and declared himself emperor, founding the Tang dynasty with the era name Wude.

But even Guanzhong was not at peace. In Li Yuan’s ancestral lands of Longxi, a man named Xue Ju rose in rebellion. Renowned for his unmatched valor, he styled himself the Hegemon King of Western Qin and adopted the era name Qinxing.

Xue Ju gathered bandits to his side, plundered government horses, and his army swept all before it, breaking every city in its path. First, he crushed the Sui general Huangfu Wan and subdued the Qiang chieftain Zhong Lisu, which greatly strengthened his forces. Next, he seized the regions of Shan and Kuo. In just over ten days, he occupied the whole of Longxi and commanded 130,000 soldiers, though he boasted of 300,000.

How could one tolerate another snoring beside one’s bed? And with Longxi being Li Yuan’s ancestral home, now lost to Xue Ju, how could Li Yuan remain idle? He ordered his second son, Li Shimin, to lead a great army against Xue Ju.

Li Shimin commanded 30,000 troops and advanced in grand array to Gaozhi City. At first, he struck swiftly and defeated Xue Ju, slaughtering thousands. Seeing that Xue Ju’s forces were numerous but short on supplies and eager for a quick battle, Li Shimin devised a plan to hold the city, wear down the enemy, and wait for the right moment.

Unfortunately, at this time, Li Shimin’s reputation was not yet established, nor did he have enough seniority to command the loyalty of his deputy chief secretary Liu Wenjing and deputy general Yin Kaishan. The two had always been close to his elder brother Li Jiancheng and merely paid lip service to Li Shimin’s authority.

Later, as misfortune would have it, Li Shimin fell gravely ill. Liu and Yin seized full control of military and civil affairs; they had always opposed Li Shimin’s strategy, believing Xue Ju was nothing special and that the time was ripe to press the attack and annihilate the enemy. Now, with Li Shimin bedridden and eager to claim credit, the two rashly led the army out to engage Xue Ju in open battle.

True to his title as Hegemon King of Western Qin, Xue Ju proved invincible, crushing them utterly. Sixty percent of the Tang army perished, the rest were wounded, and even famous generals like Murong Luo Hou, Li Anyuan, and Liu Hongji were captured alive.

Gaozhi City was lost, and with their forces decimated by Liu and Yin’s defeat, Li Shimin had no choice but to retreat to Chang’an, sick and in disarray. Such crippling losses were a devastating blow to the fledgling Tang empire; emboldened by his victory, Xue Ju’s forces threatened Chang’an itself. Li Yuan and the Guanlong nobility were thrown into panic, fearful that Xue Ju would besiege the city, and even considered fleeing the capital.

After such a disastrous defeat, someone had to take the blame. Though Li Shimin had been too ill to command and the deputies had acted without his orders, Liu and Yin were close allies of Li Jiancheng. Now that Li Jiancheng had been named Crown Prince and was troubled by his brother’s rising influence, he seized the opportunity to suppress Li Shimin. After Li Yuan’s enthronement, Li Jiancheng had been appointed Crown Prince, assisting with state and military affairs and enjoying Li Yuan’s deep trust.

With ulterior motives, Li Jiancheng exaggerated the consequences of Li Shimin’s defeat. Some at court even proposed executing Li Shimin to appease Xue Ju and negotiate peace. The Crown Prince rallied the full force of the Guanlong nobles to suppress his brother; Liu and Yin firmly insisted they had acted under Li Shimin’s orders, and the court denounced him in unison. Unable to defend himself, Li Shimin was forced to leave Chang’an to escape the storm.

At that time, all of Guanzhong was either under the control of the local aristocracy or in Xue Ju’s hands. There was nowhere for Li Shimin to find peace. Recalling that his younger brother Xuanba lived in seclusion in a remote valley, he decided to take his wife, Lady Zhangsun, and, under the pretense of visiting his brother, sought refuge in the mountains.

Lady Zhangsun was of exquisite beauty, her features delicate as a painted portrait, rosy lips and white teeth, as fresh and lovely as a lotus just emerged from water. Standing beside the handsome and spirited Li Shimin, they seemed the perfect match, a union of jade and harp.

The villagers knew nothing of their true identities—only that the elder brother, known as Second Master Li, had come from afar to visit his younger brother, Third Master Li. Their attire, bearing, and manners were unlike those of ordinary folk; yet both husband and wife were warm, courteous, and scholarly, always greeting even the humblest villagers with gentle smiles, devoid of any aristocratic arrogance.

Li Shimin himself loved the simplicity and tranquility of the local life, especially at this low point in his career, having been battered by his brother’s oppression and the ministers’ censure. Weary in both body and spirit, he found rare solace here, savoring the peace and comfort of country living. Taking himself as a commoner, he often chatted with old farmers about crops, discussed hunting with the woodsmen, and exchanged small talk with the village elders.

The villagers were deeply impressed that such a noble gentleman would humble himself to converse with them about everyday matters like farming and hunting. His amiable nature and elegant conversation won their hearts. Li Shimin’s magnanimity and wit, his effortless use of classical allusions and sparkling repartee, left the villagers feeling as if a spring breeze had passed through, growing ever more respectful and fond of him. With his natural charisma, he soon became the spiritual pillar of the village, his prestige even beginning to surpass that of Li Xuanba, who had lived there for years.

His wife, Lady Zhangsun, was gentle and refined, intelligent and sincere, her beauty matched by her kindness. The village women all adored her, treating her almost as their own daughter.

She was especially good to Mingyu, caring for him as if he were her own child, attentive and thoughtful in every detail. Having been raised roughly by Li Xuanba since childhood and rarely tasted a mother’s love, Li Mingyu was deeply moved, and already regarded Lady Zhangsun with the respect one reserves for a mother.

Yet there was one thing that left Mingyu quite embarrassed: Lady Zhangsun always treated him as a little child, often holding him in her arms and showering him with affection. Perhaps, having been married for several years without bearing children, and still in her early twenties, her motherly instincts were overflowing. At this age, even stray kittens and puppies could stir a girl’s compassion, let alone a child as adorable as a painted doll.

Poor Li Mingyu, with his two lifetimes together adding up to over thirty years, was now coddled daily like a toddler—held, coaxed, and almost spoon-fed at every meal. How could he not feel awkward, yet he could not bring himself to protest, for fear of hurting Lady Zhangsun’s feelings.