In the Ganlu Hall
Within the Ganlu Hall, the atmosphere was anything but sweet.
Zhangsun Wuji and the senior ministers stood to the side, eyes carefully lowered, watching the Emperor of Tang pace back and forth across the polished floor—barefoot.
Li Shimin's brows were sharply angled, his expression dark and restless, like deep water before a storm. Each time the light-screen flickered, he let out a short, indignant huff through his nose, as if personally offended by several centuries of historical commentary.
Fang Xuanling sat cross-legged nearby, brush moving steadily across bamboo slips, pretending—very professionally—not to notice his emperor's growing irritation.
Du Ruhui broke the silence with tactful enthusiasm.
"Your Majesty, the celestial screen addresses you as the 'Emperor of a Thousand Ages.' Such a title is rare even across the full sweep of history."
Li Shimin stopped pacing.
His brow smoothed just a fraction.
"If it is praise," he said slowly, "then why use such a ridiculous nickname?"
He did not say the rest aloud, but his thoughts were loud enough: If they truly admired me, 'Heavenly General' would have been perfectly acceptable. Or 'Sage Emperor.' Or literally anything else.
Fang Xuanling, without looking up, added gently,
"Perhaps the screen compares Your Majesty to a Phoenix—symbol of virtue and rebirth. And since Your Majesty is the second son of the Li family, 'Li Erfeng' may be… an affectionate designation."
This explanation hovered somewhere between logic and desperation.
Li Shimin snorted, unconvinced—but no longer furious. His expression soon shifted, however, into something far more serious.
"Will I truly issue many amnesties in the future?" he asked, voice low. "I once said amnesties are 'the luck of villains and the misfortune of gentlemen.'"
He stopped pacing, planted his feet, and declared with sudden authority:
"From this day forward, the abolition of the general amnesty shall begin with me!"
The ministers straightened instantly.
History trembled.
In the Shu Camp
Far away, in another time, another hall buzzed with confusion.
"Is this Li Shimin truly worthy of being called the 'Emperor of a Thousand Ages'?" Liu Bei asked, skepticism written plainly on his face.
After all, founding emperors of the Han had not received such titles. Why should a Tang ruler?
Pang Tong tilted his head. "Perhaps because of the Reign of Zhenguan?"
"Because of prosperity and technological advancement?" Kongming murmured, fingers folded thoughtfully.
"Because he conquered foreign tribes and expanded the borders?" Guan Yu added.
Zhang Fei, however, slapped his thigh and laughed.
"Brother, at least Ah Dou is better than Liu Zhang! Liu Zhang issued an amnesty every year—Ah Dou waited two full years!"
Liu Bei opened his mouth… then closed it.
He found he had no rebuttal.
Talent, Power, and a Very Sharp Tongue
The light-screen resumed its steady narration.
[With a stable environment, the Chancellor began his governance by seeking talent.]
[He invited the hermit Du Wei, who pretended to be deaf. When spoken to, Du Wei heard nothing; when ignored, he heard everything. The Chancellor eventually persuaded him through heartfelt letters.]
[When the rebel Yong Kai kidnapped the talented Zhang Yi and sent him to Sun Quan, the Chancellor made Zhang Yi's return the first demand of the renewed alliance.]
Liu Bei's eyes sharpened.
"Sun Quan had dealings with Yong Kai?" His political instincts flared instantly. "That brother-in-law of mine never stays out of trouble."
"How hard can it be?" Zhang Fei bellowed. "Give me eight hundred men! I'll take Yong Kai's head and personally deliver it to our 'Ten-Thousand-Man Brother-in-Law'!"
The light-screen pressed on, unperturbed by Zhang Fei's enthusiasm.
[To streamline governance, the Chancellor centralized authority in his own office. Thus arose the saying: 'All great matters in Shu were decided by Liang.']
[Liu Shan himself once said: 'Administration belongs to the Zhuge clan; sacrifices belong to me.']
[In effect, the Chancellor became the 'Imperial Father.']
The hall grew quiet.
Even Liu Bei felt the weight of that sentence.
[The Chancellor personally tutored Liu Shan, hand-copying classics such as Guanzi and The Six Secret Teachings.]
[When Cao Pi sent letters urging surrender, the Chancellor brought them directly to Liu Shan and publicly refuted them in his essay, Righteous Discussion.]
[In later legends, this was dramatized into the famous scene of Kongming scolding Wang Lang to death. Let us appreciate it.]
The hall fell utterly silent as the scene unfolded on the screen.
Kongming's face slowly reddened—starting from the ears.
Zhang Fei, by contrast, was howling with laughter.
"Well scolded! Truly well scolded!" he roared. "Military Advisor, I never knew you could curse better than us!"
He began enthusiastically reciting the lines:
"Grey-bearded old thief!"
"White-headed ruffian!"
"Dog with a broken spine!"
"Barking like a mangy cur!"
Zhang Fei then sucked in a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and thundered, perfectly imitating the screen:
"I HAVE NEVER SEEN A MAN WITH SUCH THICK SKIN AND UTTER SHAMELESSNESS!"
Dust rained down from the ceiling beams.
Kongming went pale—not from fear, but from secondhand embarrassment.
Pang Tong laughed so hard he nearly spilled his tea, slapping Kongming's shoulder.
"Only now do I understand," he gasped, "the true sharpness of the Dragon's tongue!"
The light-screen's tone softened, turning solemn.
[When Liu Bei passed away, Shu-Han stood at the edge of collapse.]
[In just two and a half years, the Chancellor pulled the state back from the abyss.]
[Granaries were filled. The south was pacified. Administration was purified. Dujiangyan was dredged once more.]
[Records state: 'Fields were cleared, granaries were full, weapons were sharp, and resources abundant.']
[All this was achieved in thirty months—before the Memorial on the Case for War was submitted.]
[Zhuge Liang died at Wuzhang Plains. Born during the chaos of the Ten Eunuchs, he never witnessed the prosperity of the Han—yet gave his life to forge a new Han, bright as the rising sun.]
Pang Tong, who had laughed moments earlier, now wept openly.
Only now did he understand the phrase "Ambition Like a Swan."
To Pang Tong, brilliance meant survival.
To Kongming, brilliance meant choosing the hardest road—and walking it to the end.
He offered his sleeve for Kongming to wipe his eyes.
Kongming glanced down… at the visible mucus staining the silk—and felt profound regret.
The light-screen concluded gently.
[Thirty years after the fall of Shu-Han, the renowned writer Zuo Si arrived in Chengdu. What he saw there overturned all expectations. With his own eyes, he witnessed a true Land of Abundance—a city prosperous, orderly, and alive—its foundations unmistakably laid by the Chancellor himself. Moved, Zuo Si composed the Shu Du Fu, recording in detail the richness and vitality of Shu, proving that even decades after the state's fall, Zhuge Liang's governance still nourished the land.]
[Approximately four hundred and sixty years later, the "Immortal Poet" Li Bai departed Shu, "carrying a sword to leave the country, bidding farewell to kin for distant travel." He left with lofty ambitions and a heart full of dreams. Yet thirty years after that departure, the An–Shi Rebellion shattered those dreams completely. When Li Bai was condemned to exile, news reached him that Emperor Xuanzong had fled south—fleeing not elsewhere, but to Chengdu, Li Bai's spiritual homeland.]
[Thus, in despair and longing, Li Bai wrote of the magnificent scenery of Chengdu that had appeared countless times in his dreams:
"Nine heavens open up a Chengdu;
ten thousand households and a thousand gates enter the painting…"]
[He continued:
"The waters are green, the skies are clear, and not a speck of dust is raised;
the scenery is warm and surpasses even the Three Qin.
The fireworks of ten thousand realms follow the jade carriage,
coming west to add spring to the Jin River.
Jiange Pass stands as the northern gate of Shu;
the retired Emperor's returning horses gather like clouds.
The young Emperor opens the Purple Limit in Chang'an,
while twin sun and moon hang high, illuminating the universe."]
The hall remained silent long after the words faded.
Glory, after all, does not always belong to those who conquer.
Sometimes, it belongs to those who endure—and make others endure with them.