Tang Suzong…
To Li Shimin, it was an imperial title that felt both familiar and oddly distant.
He paused for a moment, rifling through memory, then recalled it—
Ah.
Wasn't this the emperor who established the Martial Temple?
Li Shimin's expression remained calm. He cleared his throat lightly and said, almost casually:
"I wonder what the Marquis Wu would think, hearing this."
As for Fang Guan's abilities, Li Shimin never believed in them to begin with.
When judging Emperor Xuanzong's court, Li Shimin had long since developed a brutally simple rule:
The closer a minister stood to Xuanzong, the higher the chance he was a useless wine-sack who survived on intrigue.
True generals came from the border commands.
Loyal, cautious officials emerged from Changshan, Pingyuan, Hedong, Luoyang—
But never Chang'an.
So Fang Guan's competence?
That deserved a very large question mark.
"A talentless man like this," Li Shimin said flatly,
"would at most earn a wry smile from the Marquis Wu."
Fang Xuanling, however, felt a different kind of unease. Zhuge Liang might only sigh in resignation—but Fang Guan himself?
He hesitated, then spoke uncertainly:
"This Fang Guan… his surname is Fang as well. Could he be…?"
Du Ruhui laughed and deliberately made light of himself to ease the tension:
"Brother Xuanling, why worry? As long as one's descendants don't rebel, enjoying wealth and peace is already a blessing."
The logic was sound, and Fang Xuanling could only let the thought go.
Besides—even if Fang Guan really were his descendant, that was still far better than the endless royal farces of the Li clan, wasn't it?
The thought was somewhat irreverent, but instead of guilt, Fang Xuanling found his heart oddly calmer.
Du Ruhui's sentiment earned nods all around.
After all, with Du Ruhui himself as the precedent—dying early, only for his son to later rebel—everyone's expectations for their children had long since dropped to rock bottom.
Hou Junji, after realizing just how fortunate he himself had been, grew noticeably more humble and began earnestly consulting Li Jing about the military situation.
Chang'an had to be retaken.
That was unquestionable.
The question was how ?
Li Jing believed they could entirely replicate Cui Qianyou's tactics on the Guanzhong Plain.
After all, Chang'an was still the capital of the Great Tang.
"Once the rebels take Chang'an," Li Jing said,
"arrogance will surely follow.
Feign defeat, lure them out, then encircle them with frontier troops.
Forcing them to abandon the city would be the optimal strategy."
Hou Junji nodded in agreement—but then raised the key question:
"And who will command it?"
Three enemy generals had already been slain. Who remained capable of leading such an army?
And more importantly—who would dare?
[ Lightscreen]
[Fang Guan was a black stain Tang Suzong preferred not to remember.
After proclaiming himself emperor at Lingwu, Suzong quickly scraped together a respectable force.
Reinforcements arrived from Hexi, Longyou, and Anxi, giving him close to He had nearly 60,000 battle-hardened troops.
How to use this hard-earned foundation to establish authority became Suzong's greatest concern.
And then Fang Guan, relying purely on eloquence, thoroughly bewitched the emperor.
Suzong not only granted Fang Guan special favor, but allowed him to participate in all major military decisions.
Thus began Fang Guan's brief, legendary, and utterly absurd in few months. His career path looked like this:
June: An unknown official in Chang'an.
July: Promoted to chancellor simply by following Xuanzong in flight.
August: Won Suzong's complete trust through rhetoric alone.
September: Appointed Commander for the Reconquest of the Western Capital and Defense of the Pu and Tong Passes.
October: Volunteered himself as Grand Marshal of All Under Heaven's Armies to retake the Two Capitals.
Suzong agreed.
In just four months, Fang Guan went from idle vice minister to dual-jiedushi and Grand Marshal of All Forces.
Suzong even granted him the right to establish a personal headquarters.
As a result, Deng Jingshan, Song Ruosi, Jia Zhi, Liu Zhi, and a whole entourage of men who had never fought a war in their lives flooded into Fang Guan's command staff.
Someone warned Fang Guan:
"The rebels possess elite Yeluohe troops. We must proceed cautiously."
Fang Guan's response?
"They may be many—but can they match my Liu Zhi?"]
Chengdu
"Li Heng truly is Xuanzong's own flesh and blood."
Zhang Fei had assumed that with a new emperor, things might finally settle down.
Unfortunately—
Not at all.
Even Liu Bei began doubting himself:
"Tang appointments to chancellorship… are they always this casual?"
Under Xuanzong, merit didn't matter—only proximity to the imperial carriage.
Under Suzong, merit still didn't matter—only eloquence.
Liu Bei couldn't help recalling someone else:
"Such favor… even Zhao Kuo reborn would envy it."
Zhao Kuo, after all, owed his meteoric rise not just to eloquence, but to his father Zhao She's military legacy.
But Fang Guan?
Nothing.
Just a mouth.
Liu Bei turned to his own strategist and laughed:
"Compared to this, I have truly treated Kongming poorly."
It was only a joke, and Zhuge Liang laughed along:
"Had my lord possessed sixty thousand elite troops when I emerged from seclusion,
how could rebels have troubled us?"
Fa Zheng watched their harmony with envy—and genuine admiration.
"When Kongming left Longzhong, he already carried the fame of the Longzhong Plan across the realm."
"Fang Guan possesses only vulgar talk.
How could he ever be compared to Kongming?"
Fang Guan's words, translated plainly, amounted to:
What the hell are Yeluohe troops anyway?
No strategy.
No contingency.
Just arrogance.
Grand Marshal of All Armies—
Yet he spoke like a street loafer.
And still dared invoke Zhuge Liang?
Fa Zheng hadn't even been this arrogant back in Yi Province, when he disdained everyone.
[ Lightscreen]
[Thus began the Battle of Chen Tao Slope—under this absurd and farcical prelude.
Fang Guan led fifty thousand elite troops, divided into three columns, marching toward Chang'an.
Li Guangjin commanded the Northern Army, advancing from Fengtian.
Fang Guan and Liu Guizhe led the Central Army from Wugong.
Together, these forces totaled forty thousand men and served as the vanguard.
A Southern Army of ten thousand, led by Yang Xiwén, advanced from Yishou.
The rebels opposing them?
An Shouzhong, one of An Lushan's Four Fierce Generals—
With merely ten thousand troops.
The two sides met at Chen Tao Slope.
The historical records offer few details—but when An Shouzhong saw the Tang army, he was likely dumbfounded.
No one could have imagined—
It turned out Fang Guan was a traditionalist. A very old-school traditionalist. With Suzong's backing, he had built war-chariots based on descriptions from the Spring and Autumn Period—centuries out of date.
He planned to have 2,000 oxen pull these chariots into the enemy lines, followed by infantry. This was his 'genius' masterstroke
That was Fang Guan's "brilliant" plan.
Reality, however, was less cooperative.
An Shouzhong did not politely wait to be gored by elderly oxen.
He ordered his soldiers to strike shields with blades and raise deafening shouts, terrifying the oxen and slowing their advance.
Then light cavalry closed in, hurling torches into the chariot formation.
Chaos erupted.
The panicked oxen turned and stampeded—straight back into Tang ranks.
Men trampled men.
An Shouzhong seized the moment and charged.
Within half a day, the forty thousand Tang troops were utterly shattered.
The Southern Army entered the battlefield a day later.
By then, An Shouzhong rode the momentum of total victory.
Yang Xiwén, their commander, saw the situation and promptly surrendered.
In one single battle, Fang Guan obliterated the fragile foundation Li Heng had stitched together.
Forced into desperation, Li Heng would later seek aid from the Uyghurs.
Chen Tao Slope—also known as Chen Tao—
Was where Du Fu, en route to pledge allegiance to Tang Suzong, was captured by the rebels.
Later, he wrote Lament at Chen Tao:
In early winter, sons of ten commanderies,
Their blood turned Chen Tao's marsh into water.
The fields lay vast, the sky clear—no sounds of battle,
Forty thousand righteous troops died in a single day.]
Ganlu Hall
"In early winter, sons of ten commanderies…"
Du Ruhui felt the brush in his hand grow unbearably heavy.
He had once believed that the collapse of a century-long golden age would be spectacular and thunderous.
Instead—
It was emperors made foolish, ministers misleading the state, and rebels driven by greed.
And now, the last remaining strength of High Tang—
Was finished off by a man who could only talk.
The Hexi, Longyou, and Anxi garrisons—
One hundred and thirty thousand elite frontier troops—
Once meant to awe a hundred nations.
Now, by a single order at Tong Pass, and one retrograde fantasy at Chen Tao—
They were utterly destroyed.
The most elite soldiers of the empire died without dignity.
"How can such dog-brained men be entrusted with great affairs?!"
Hou Junji finally exploded.
He hadn't forgotten—
Anxi Protectorate sat at Gaochang.
And who conquered Gaochang?
Him.
Those troops had been meant as a bridgehead into Central Asia—
And now they were gone.
The ministers seethed.
Yet Li Shimin seemed unnervingly calm.
"Unfit to accomplish anything."
That was his verdict.
Wei Zheng followed sharply:
"More than unfit! If he possessed any self-awareness, he should hang himself to preserve his name!"
Li Shimin looked over, his voice quiet:
"I was speaking of Suzong."
Wei Zheng fell silent.
Li Shimin turned forward:
"This Suzong—ambitious but incompetent.
No wonder he and Fang Guan recognized one another."
Wei Zheng dared not speak, though inwardly he agreed.
Li Shimin's thinking went further still:
"With this army gone, Suzong has nothing left to rely on.
Among Tang's regional forces, only…"
"Guo Ziyi and Li Guangbi's Hedong armies?"
Realization struck.
"No wonder Suzong sought help from the Uyghurs."
Li Shimin paced, tapping his temple:
"But why would the Uyghurs help Suzong instead of An Lushan?"
"To seize the Son of Heaven and command the realm?"
Du Ruhui intervened before the speculation grew too dark:
"Perhaps the Uyghurs still fear Tang's might…"
Li Shimin smiled faintly:
"They fear Tang's armies."
"Not Tang's virtue."
He understood this lesson well—
From Illig Qaghan,
From every defeated enemy he had ever faced.
Chengdu.
"This Du Gongbu truly lived a life of misfortune…"
Zhuge Liang worried for this friend—
Watching him through the light-screen centuries later.
In later ages, Du Fu would wander Chengdu, visiting Zhuge Liang's relics, mourning him.
They would never meet.
A pity.
Liu Bei felt deep resonance with the poet:
"A heart that worries for the state and the people—
a thousand times better than Fang Guan."
Xu Shu could barely stand to look:
"Such men, clinging to outdated methods,
only inflate the rebels' hollow fame."
Zhao Yun calculated quietly:
"After this battle, Tang's official forces equal—or slightly trail—the rebels."
"The rebels hold the Two Capitals, which Tang must reclaim.
Offense and defense have reversed."
And the light-screen's casual remark felt disturbingly familiar.
Unable to suppress rebellion—
Seeking aid from barbarians—
If the barbarians win, they grow uncontrollable.
If they lose, the emperor becomes their scapegoat.
The An Lushan Rebellion grew ever more tangled.
To Zhao Yun, Tang now looked unmistakably—
Dying.
And yet—
How would such a state endure another hundred years?