Zhang Fei couldn't articulate anything especially profound, but one thought kept circling in his head:
A famous general should not die like this.
If he were to die, it should be on a battlefield between nations, like Talas—fighting to the last breath.
Or like the Champion Marquis, snatched away by fate itself, brilliant and blazing.
But never like this—standing guard against an enemy, only to be murdered by palace slander, his life ended by eunuchs far from the front.
"That Emperor Xuanzong is way too impatient," Zhang Fei muttered to himself.
"Is he afraid the Tong Pass army might actually win or something?"
Liu Bei glanced at him and replied casually,
"Maybe Emperor Xuanzong is just old."
Hearing that, Kongming nodded thoughtfully and added,
"There's an old comparison of emperors' reign lengths. Liu Shan ruled for forty-one years, ranking eighth. Xuanzong ruled even longer—seventh overall."
"When Wang Zhongsi entered the palace as a youth, Xuanzong was already on the throne. By the time Wang was slandered to death, Xuanzong had reigned over thirty years…"
"And by the time the An Lushan Rebellion broke out, even counting conservatively, Xuanzong was already over sixty."
"Oh, then I get it," Zhang Fei said, still grumbling.
"Just like when Big Brother lost his temper and burned Yiling to the ground."
"One rage—and Xuanzong slashed Great Tang three times with his own hand."
Liu Bei had been deep in thought, but hearing that, he snapped back irritably,
"I told you already, that was a gamble… I just lost."
"Xuanzong listened to slander to settle private grudges. That's not the same thing."
Truth be told, Liu Bei's feelings toward Emperor Xuanzong were complicated in the extreme.
Even if Liu Bei himself was later honored as Emperor Zhaolie, emperors were still not all the same.
The difference between them could be vast.
And so mixed into his thoughts was a deep, aching regret:
What you throw away as worn shoes, others would treasure as priceless jade.
Fa Zheng, on the other hand, didn't care at all. He was only here for the spectacle.
"Hurry up, hurry up," he urged eagerly.
"How many times has Xuanzong said he'll personally lead the campaign now?"
"Let's see for ourselves how a Great Tang emperor goes to war!"
[Lightscreen]
[Xuanzong's so-called "personal campaign" was like a modern boss promising a bonus, or like Cao Cao's "quenching thirst by imagining plums."
It was never meant to be real.
Believe it, and you lose.
But with a hundred thousand troops gathered at Tong Pass, and both commanding generals already executed by a single stroke of Xuanzong's blade, the situation had become… awkward.
After all, Xuanzong couldn't command Tong Pass remotely from Chang'an.
Someone still had to take the blame—
Ah, no—someone had to take charge.
Feng Changqing had returned from Anxi to report for duty, his loyalty crashing headfirst into disaster.
Gao Xianzhi had been recalled to Chang'an to take up an official post, with no way to refuse.
Now, as Xuanzong searched for a new commander for Tong Pass, every official in court lowered their heads, terrified of being selected.
At the critical moment, someone spoke up:
"Isn't the Hexi Jiedushi, Duke of Liang—Geshu Han—currently in Chang'an?"
The court breathed a collective sigh of relief. Officials rushed to list Geshu Han's victories, and Xuanzong quickly issued an imperial edict summoning him.
But why was Geshu Han in Chang'an in the first place?
After Wang Zhongsi was slandered to death, Geshu Han temporarily took over as Hexi Jiedushi.
Faced with Xuanzong's obsession with Stone Fort City, he employed a strategy of building strongholds and grinding forward—constructing Yinglong City nearby and slowly encroaching until Stone Fort finally fell, securing his official appointment.
Afterward, as Hexi Jiedushi, Geshu Han crushed several Tibetan cities, seized the Nine Bends of the Yellow River, and expanded Tang territory once more. For a time, he was riding high.
Then fate turned.
Geshu Han was undeniably a great general—but in private life, he embodied three vices perfectly: greed, heavy drinking, and indulgence.
At the start of 755, while inspecting Hengzhou in bitter winter weather, he took a hot bath to warm himself.
He suffered a stroke.
His body was partially paralyzed, and he was rushed to Chang'an to recover.
From a modern medical perspective, Geshu Han was almost certainly suffering from high blood pressure. Cold weather causes capillaries to constrict, raising blood pressure. A sudden hot bath causes surface vessels to expand rapidly, drawing blood inward.
Meanwhile, cerebral arteries remain constricted. The surge in blood either ruptures vessels—causing a hemorrhagic stroke—or blocks them, causing ischemia.
Geshu Han was fortunate. He likely suffered the latter, which was survivable.
After half a year in Chang'an, his condition gradually improved. He was even preparing to request permission to return to his post—
When the An Lushan Rebellion erupted.
Gao Xianzhi and Feng Changqing were executed.
And Xuanzong's edict arrived at his bedside.]
After silently condemning Xuanzong's empty promises, Li Shimin turned his gaze to Sun Simiao.
The Medicine King wasn't surprised. If the vision was accurate, anyone suffering head ailments would fear such an outcome.
After a moment's thought, Sun Simiao nodded.
"Overindulgence in rich foods and alcohol weakens the spleen, stirs liver wind, and sends yang energy surging upward. Blood is forced to rise—thus arises the ailment of the head. This matches what later generations call high blood pressure."
"As for Geshu Han, his condition aligns with the Inner Canon: 'Cold remains, blood congeals; congealment blocks the vessels.'"
"The later explanation is novel. What they call blood vessels likely refers to meridians… but these 'capillaries'…"
He stretched out his hand, staring at the veins on the back of it in thought.
Meridians?
Li Shimin, however, cared more about something else.
"That bathing…"
He had no desire to someday be carried helplessly from a bath by palace attendants.
Sun Simiao waved the concern aside.
"Your Majesty need not worry. Chang'an winters are mild, and you bathe with braziers for warmth. So long as you do not bathe hot after cold exposure, or cold after heat, there is no danger."
Then he added solemnly,
"And Your Majesty must remember: restrain diet and anger. Stirring liver wind only worsens head ailments."
As he spoke, Sun Simiao glanced pointedly at a wine cup shattered on the floor—thrown earlier by Li Shimin.
Li Shimin laughed awkwardly. Abstaining from food was hard.
As for anger…
He glanced at the glowing screen and felt that, at least today, he wouldn't be losing his temper.
His heart was already numb.
Even if Geshu Han were executed next…
Li Shimin clenched his fist slightly.
He could only sigh and say: worthy indeed of my descendants.
In the Chengdu prefectural office, Physician Zhang was also taking notes, writing as he pondered.
He marveled at later medical understanding—and at the concept of stroke itself.
Kongming leaned over with a smile.
"Physician Zhang, when will the Treatise on Cold Damage be ready? We could print it and benefit all under Heaven."
Zhang Zhongjing wrote with his right hand, stroked his beard with his left, and replied casually,
"Soon."
Kongming laughed.
"You said 'soon' last year. You said 'soon' at year's end. And now again."
"Have these fragments of later medicine inspired new insights?"
Zhang Zhongjing nodded without hesitation and sighed.
"The Five Viscera Diagram alone has lifted much of the fog. How could it be mere fragments?"
Kongming didn't press further. He watched Zhang write, while a long-brewing thought churned in his own mind.
The Inner Canon contains sections on intestines, sinews, bones, and pulse measurement—structured too clearly to be divine guesswork.
During Wang Mang's era, executed prisoners were dissected, bamboo rods used to trace vessels, organs measured to treat illness.
Now, with paper and printing…
If medicine were to advance further, perhaps dissection must once again be undertaken.
[Lightscreen]
[Geshu Han refused Xuanzong's summons outright.
After all, Feng and Gao's heads were still hanging from Tong Pass.
He wasn't stupid.
After much back-and-forth, Yang Guozhong—Geshu Han's primary patron—personally visited him, persuading him with emotion and wealth.
Geshu Han finally agreed, but with conditions.
"I'll take command—but Tong Pass affairs are mine alone."
Chang'an had no one else left. Xuanzong pinched his nose and agreed.
After assuming command, Geshu Han made another request.
"Your Majesty, I want to kill someone."
"Who?"
An Sishun.
Back in 746, when Wang Zhongsi held both Hexi and Longyou commands, he promoted An Sishun as Chief Military Officer and appointed Geshu Han as his deputy.
An Sishun, of the Nine Surnames of Zhaowu, was disciplined and upright.
Geshu Han, a Turk, was indulgent and licentious.
They despised each other—for ten years.
After An Lushan rebelled, An Sishun survived only because he had repeatedly reported his adopted brother's treason. He was summoned to Chang'an.
Geshu Han was furious.
He bluntly petitioned for An Sishun's execution.
Xuanzong dared not refuse. He ordered forged letters implicating An Sishun, arranged for a courier to be "captured" at Tong Pass.
With "evidence in hand," Geshu Han accused An Sishun of seven crimes.
Xuanzong issued the death order without hesitation. An Sishun and An Yuanzhen were executed; their families exiled to Lingnan.
Only then did Geshu Han settle down to work.
He assembled eighty thousand troops from Hexi and Longyou, joining the hundred thousand imperial guards raised by Feng and Gao.
Thus began a six-month stalemate at Tong Pass against a hundred thousand rebel troops.
While Geshu Han and An Lushan stared each other down beneath Tong Pass, Hebei erupted.
When An Lushan first marched south, local officials surrendered under pressure.
Once he left—
They tore down his banners and raised Tang's once more.
"We rebel—for Tang!"
Hebei's loyalist forces peaked near two hundred thousand.
And the leader they chose—
A name everyone knows:
Hebei has a loyal man.
His name—
Yan Zhenqing.]
"A fine drama indeed," Li Shimin said calmly.
At this point, nothing Xuanzong did could surprise him.
Feeding loyal ministers to wolves?
Entirely in character.
He wondered whether Xuanzong ever regretted killing Feng and Gao so easily, when faced with Geshu Han's threats.
Then Li Shimin spoke with measured judgment:
"Xuanzong wavers without resolve. His chancellor lacks virtue and talent. Geshu Han's actions are no different from bargaining with a tiger."
A fed wolf should bite the enemy.
If not—
Xuanzong, who had already killed Feng, Gao, and An, would hardly mind adding another head to Tong Pass.
Li Shimin shook his head—then smiled faintly.
"But the hearts of Hebei's righteous people…"
"That," he said softly,
"Is the real Great Tang."