A brief, heavy silence fell over the Chengdu Prefectural Office.
Zhang Song's question hung in the air like dust that refused to settle.
An emperor lost in indulgence with his consorts.
Generals skilled only at flattery.
A chancellor elevated through imperial relatives.
Military authority treated like worn-out shoes, tossed aside when inconvenient.
Whether the Tang under this Xuanzong was truly strong or weak, they could not personally feel.
But two traits were painfully obvious.
Extravagant.
And diseased.
At last, Liu Bei spoke softly, his voice steady but cold:
"This… is the face of a fallen state."
...
In Sun Simiao's eyes, the fury boiling within the ruler of the Great Tang rose higher and higher.
At first, the emperor had lounged lazily upon the couch.
That ease vanished.
He stood.
Paced.
Clenched his fists, lips pressed tight.
Finally, unable to endure it any longer, Li Shimin stormed toward the glowing light curtain, seized a brush, and poured his rage onto the page.
But when the numbers of the Three Frontier Garrisons appeared—
Li Shimin's hand began to tremble.
He looked as if he wanted to curse aloud, but before a single word escaped, it felt as though a hammer struck his skull. His temples throbbed violently, as if they were about to burst.
He staggered backward.
Zhangsun Wuji caught him at once.
Without waiting for anyone to speak, Sun Simiao had already reached into the pouch at his waist, pulled out a small ceramic bottle, and deftly removed a black-and-yellow pill, feeding it to the emperor.
Hou Junji poured a cup of clear water and carefully helped Li Shimin drink.
Only then did Zhangsun Wuji finally ask,
"Medicine King, this pill is…?"
"Wild chrysanthemum, Tang pine herb, bezoar, pearl powder as the main ingredients, with supporting herbs," Sun Simiao replied smoothly.
"It is called Qingre Pill."
As for Li Shimin's face twisting in bitterness from the medicine's taste—
Sun Simiao did not care in the slightest.
Medicine, after all, was never sweet.
Let His Majesty rest for now.
Du Ruhui frowned, puzzled.
"But where is the famed chancellor Zhang Jiuling? When traitors threaten the state, should loyal and brave ministers not unite to eliminate them?"
As for the sordid affairs between An Lushan, Xuanzong, and that Yang consort—
Du Ruhui forced himself to look away.
Yet in his heart, he knew:
The face of the Great Tang had been completely lost.
Lost not only to later generations—
But absurdly, even to people hundreds of years earlier.
When he imagined Zhuge Liang witnessing these events with his own eyes, Du Ruhui felt an overwhelming urge:
Would riding eight hundred li at top speed to the Wuhou Shrine in Chengdu to explain himself… help at all?
"He should have been dismissed long ago."
Fang Xuanling pierced the truth effortlessly.
"If such a worthy chancellor had not been removed, how could this creature ever rise to become a military governor?"
Du Ruhui fell silent, then finally said with forced hope,
"One can only pray he met a good end."
Wei Zheng snorted coldly.
"Unite loyal men to remove traitors? Given how this beast is treated, when the time comes, it's hard to say who will be labeled the traitor."
The civil officials fell into collective silence.
When imperial will stood in the way, what could ministers do?
Faced with a Tang so thoroughly abused, neither civil nor military officials had the energy to care about the unfamiliar names drifting across the light curtain.
[ Lightscreen]
[From the moment Zhang Jiuling declared, "This creature will surely bring chaos to Youzhou,"
to the year 755 CE when rebellion formally erupted—
An Lushan's treason became an open secret of the Great Tang.
In 754, after Yang Guozhong blocked An Lushan's appointment as chancellor, An Lushan did not grow angry.
That same year, he promoted over five hundred generals and more than two thousand colonel-rank officers in one sweep.
When the promotion list reached Chang'an, the city exploded in uproar. Even commoners believed An Lushan's rebellious intent was undeniable.
Yet Xuanzong did not believe it—and approved the list.
Shortly afterward, in February of 755, An Lushan's deputy, He Qianian, returned to the capital to report in his stead.
On An Lushan's behalf, he made a new request:
That over thirty Han generals of the Fanyang Army be replaced entirely with foreign commanders.
The generals of the three Hedong prefectures, who entered the capital alongside him, jointly opposed this and submitted memorials in protest:
"Your Majesty, are you blind? Even three-year-old children in Chang'an know An Lushan is going to rebel!"
Xuanzong's response was to approve An Lushan's request—and accuse the generals of jealousy toward talent.
Thus, the court fell silent.
If the emperor was already like this, what could anyone do except obey?
In this atmosphere, Chancellor Yang Guozhong made a decision he believed to be brilliant:
"If I force An Lushan to rebel, won't everything resolve itself?"
Convinced of his flawless plan, Yang Guozhong acted immediately.
Without Xuanzong's knowledge, he ordered a forcible search of An Lushan's residence in Chang'an, arrested An Lushan's retainers, interrogated them—and executed them.
At this time, Xuanzong had just granted a marriage to An Lushan's eldest son and invited An Lushan to attend the ceremony.
An Qingzong, already in Chang'an preparing to wed Princess Rongyi, learned of the incident and immediately sent word back to Hebei at top speed.
To An Lushan, Yang Guozhong's actions could only mean one thing:
They were done with imperial approval.
If he went to Chang'an, the wedding feast would end with a shattered cup as signal—and blades reducing him to minced meat.
Thus, An Lushan feigned illness, refused to enter the capital, and began preparing for rebellion in earnest.
Half a year later, under the banner of "Purging the Court and Executing Yang Guozhong," An Lushan and Shi Siming raised their armies in Hebei.
Thus began the An Lushan Rebellion—
eight years of cataclysm,
with no true victor.]
Li Shimin had mostly recovered, rubbing his temples.
But seeing Xuanzong stand against the entire world for An Lushan—
That familiar pain returned instantly.
Thankfully, the lingering bitterness of the medicine seemed to dull the headache.
Still, Li Shimin jumped up, furious:
"Is this An Lushan some fox demon named Azi? How else could he so thoroughly enchant the emperor's mind?!"
"I once believed Yang Yuhuan alone corrupted the court—
but now it seems the blame lies squarely with Xuanzong and An Lushan!"
Only after much persuasion did the ministers finally calm him.
Hou Junji spoke with deep agreement:
"If this is so, then the Three Hedong Garrisons were not traitors.
It was An Lushan's own confidants seizing control that allowed him total command."
This realization was precisely what made it unbearable.
Fang Xuanling recited grimly:
"An Lushan's rebellion—
the people knew,
the officials knew,
the generals knew.
It was an open secret."
Du Ruhui disagreed slightly:
"Xuanzong also knew.
He simply… did not believe."
Whether Xuanzong truly believed—or dared not believe—
Du Ruhui did not know.
But it had become irrelevant.
Shaking his head, he said,
"Who would have thought such a cataclysm would arise from something so simple?"
Indeed, simple.
A chancellor acting in secret.
A frontier general with treacherous intent.
A fragile trust between adopted father and son shattered by coincidence.
Wei Zheng summarized bitterly:
"Had Yang Guozhong acted before An Lushan planted his own people, the outcome might have differed."
"Now that the beast has grown fangs—
it is too late."
For a moment, Wei Zheng even felt sorrow for the loyal ministers of that Tang era:
The supreme emperor himself had become the traitor's greatest shield.
Who could restrain him?
At last, Li Shimin asked quietly:
"After a century of glory…
where were the men of Tang's iron spirit?"
...
Zhang Fei hesitated.
"This Xuanzong…
he's not actually a fool, is he?"
To Zhang Fei, this was like handing a blade to a bandit—pure suicide.
Zhao Yun pressed his lips together.
"Even so, the Tang stood strong for over a hundred years.
It should not lack loyal bones."
Such a prosperous dynasty, still admired centuries later, should surely have men willing to die for it.
How could one traitor rise so easily?
Xu Shu popped a roasted peanut into his mouth and chuckled.
"Perhaps…
the loyal hearts died first,
and the good bones turned to white ones."
[ Lightscreen]
[In truth, knowledge of An Lushan's treason spread far beyond Chang'an—it was known across the realm.
In early Tang, if one spoke of war gods, Li Jing, Li Shiji, and Su Dingfang stood unrivaled.
But in Xuanzong's era, only one man deserved that title:
Wang Zhongsi.
Wang Zhongsi was Xuanzong's first adopted son—by seniority, An Lushan's elder brother.
His biological father, Wang Haibin, achieved great merit fighting the Tibetans but died in battle after allied forces failed to reinforce him.
Xuanzong mourned deeply and brought Wang Haibin's son, Wang Xun, into the palace as an adopted son.
Xuanzong personally renamed him Wang Zhongsi, commanding him to remember his father always—and promised him:
"You will be my Huo Qubing.
When you grow up, you shall be a great general."
Xuanzong regarded Wang Zhongsi as his Huo Qubing.
Wang Zhongsi held himself to the same standard.
As an adult, he enforced strict discipline, loved his soldiers as his children, and charged first into battle. His prestige was immense.
In the seventeenth year of Kaiyuan, the Tibetans suffered repeated defeats and morale wavered.
Facing crisis, the Tibetan ruler personally went to the front lines and reviewed troops at Yubiao River.
Stationed in Zhangye, Wang Zhongsi instantly recognized the opportunity.
That night, he assembled seven hundred elite crossbowmen, determined to reenact Huo Qubing's legendary strike.
Each man rode three horses, armored and helmed, galloping through the night.
Fog rose thick in the freezing western darkness—but Wang Zhongsi judged the route precisely, covering three hundred li in one night.
As they reached Yubiao River, the fog suddenly cleared—
Before them stood twenty thousand Tibetan guards.
Neither side expected to encounter the enemy at such proximity.
Tang officers panicked, urging retreat to deploy crossbows.
Wang Zhongsi roared:
"Not a single step back!
Shoot until arrows are spent!
No one moves—
watch me break them!"
With that, the divine general charged alone into the enemy ranks.
Those who blocked him fell.
Tibetan troops erupted in chaos.
The seven hundred Tang soldiers abandoned their crossbows without hesitation and followed him into the fray.
Banners crowded the sky, spears formed forests—
Yet none could stop Wang Zhongsi.
A Tibetan general on a white horse attempted to rally morale—
He was cut down instantly.
The Tibetan ruler, like Sun Quan of old, climbed high ground to assess the Tang force.
But the retreat of his central banner shattered already fragile morale.
Seizing the moment, Wang Zhongsi routed twenty thousand men with seven hundred, beheading thousands and erecting a jingguan on the spot to terrify the enemy.
Then the seven hundred returned calmly to Zhangye, driving tens of thousands of captured cattle and sheep.
Afterward, Wang Zhongsi crushed Xi and Khitan forces, subjugated thirty-six Khitan tribes, and drove the Tibetans into avoidance.
Western regions trembled at his name.
As the emperor's adopted son and an unmatched general, Wang Zhongsi enjoyed Xuanzong's absolute trust—and repaid it with unmatched victories.
For a time, it truly seemed another bond like Han Wudi and Huo Qubing had been reborn.]
In the Ganlu Hall, Li Shimin suddenly felt no pain in head or legs.
He stood, voice ringing with admiration:
"This—
this is what deserves to be called a divine general of the Great Tang!"