[Lightscreen]
[By the time of the Song dynasty, Li Jing's status had already become rather transcendent.
His military treatises were ranked among the Seven Military Classics, and he himself was enshrined as one of the Ten Philosophers of the Martial Temple. Incense and sacrifices were never lacking.
The Song also practiced a system of restraining the military with civil authority. Whether you could actually fight or not, military texts still had to be read.
As a result, Li Jing's name in the Song was thunderous—"household-famous" would not be an exaggeration.
But then why is it that when modern people talk about Sui–Tang history, the figures they're most familiar with are Qin Qiong and Yuchi Jingde—the door gods pasted up during the New Year—while Li Jing seems to vanish into the background?
There's no mystery to it. It's simply because Li Jing's "rank" at that point was a bit too high.
Tang poetry, Song lyrics, Yuan drama, Ming novels—this is something everyone knows.
Unlike Tang poetry and Song lyrics, which focused on personal expression, Ming-era chaptered novels leaned far more heavily toward commercial appeal.
After the great success of the supernatural novel Journey to the West, Ming booksellers waved stacks of shining silver and commissioned a string of follow-up works: Journey to the East, Journey to the South, Journey to the North. All were warmly received. The Investiture of the Gods likewise belonged to this wave of trend-following works.
Water Margin spawned the well-known tales of the Hu Family Generals, the Yang Family Generals, the Xue Family Generals, the Yue Family Generals, and so on.
Even more works imitated Romance of the Three Kingdoms: from Records of the Eastern Zhou Kingdoms to Song Taizu's Three Campaigns Against Southern Tang, history from the Eastern Zhou all the way to the Song was practically written through in full.
From this lineage alone, one can see what mattered most in later Ming novel-writing.
Following trends.
And as for the two novels that told the history of the Sui–Tang period—Romance of the Tang and Romance of Sui and Tang—if a certain "educated" content creator were to review them, the verdict would be:
Good news: it's stitched together.
Bad news: it's stitched together entirely.
In characterization, they learned from Water Margin.
In setting, they learned from Journey to the West.
In narrative structure, they learned from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
First came the "heroization" of characters.
Take the setup of the Eighteen Heroes of Sui and Tang: the top-ranked hero, Li Yuanba, was the Buddhist guardian deity Golden-Winged Great Peng reincarnated; the third-ranked hero, Pei Yuanqing, was Nezha reborn; the sixteenth hero, Qin Qiong, was the Star of Broken Armies incarnate; the seventeenth, Yuchi Jingde, the incarnation of the Black Killing Star.
And Li Shimin was the Ziwei Star reborn, while Wei Zheng and Xu Maogong were the Left and Right Minister Stars of Heaven incarnated in the mortal world.
Warlord chaos was turned into immortals dueling with divine powers. If you followed this logic, Dou Jiande—who nearly defeated Li Shimin—would at least have to be the reincarnation of the Emperor Gouchen, and Li Yuan would presumably be the Jade Emperor come down to earth.
The plot itself became increasingly supernatural.
Li Yuanba wielded twin hammers weighing eight hundred jin each, rode the divine steed "Ten-Thousand-Li Cloud," and at the Battle of Purple Gold Mountain killed 1.2 million soldiers single-handedly.
Qin Qiong's twin maces weighed 130 jin. Yuchi Jingde's steel whips weighed 120 jin. If your weapon didn't weigh at least a hundred jin, you'd be embarrassed to even say hello.
Speaking of Tang III even went for a crossover: Li Jing personally invited the Monkey King and the Old Mother of Mount Li to annihilate the enemy—leaving one to wonder whether the Sui dynasty had violated some celestial law.
In narrative structure, because of the massive success of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, any later "hero drama" almost had to include a strategist figure.
In early operatic romances, since Zhuge Liang used Daoist techniques—borrowing the east wind at Red Cliffs, and later attempting to extend his life at Wuzhang Plains—the role of the strategist gradually overlapped with that of a Daoist priest. Later writers all followed suit.
The ultimate victim of this was Li Ji.
In the early stories' Wagang stronghold faction, from a popularity standpoint, only one person could plausibly fill that role: Li Ji.
And so a battlefield commander was recast as a spell-wielding strategist. Even his courtesy name was altered: Maogong (written 懋功) was replaced with the easier Maogong (茂公), simply because the original character was inconvenient to write.
In the end, the dignified Duke of Ying became the heretical Daoist Xu Maogong in popular romances.
And once you insert a legitimate Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King Li into a half-divine story like this, Li Jing naturally had to have his presence cut down as much as possible to keep the narrative from collapsing.
What's more, Romance of Sui and Tang focused its plot on the struggle for the Central Plains. Li Jing's campaigns in the south against Xiao Xian were off the main stage and thus further diluted.
The Eighteen Rebel Kings of Romance of Sui and Tang were also basically copied straight from the Eighteen Lords of Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
The novel even added a reincarnation revenge couple: Yang Yuhuan was the reincarnation of Sui Emperor Yang Guang, and Li Longji was the reincarnation of Yang Guang's favored consort Zhu Guier.
Their reincarnation a century later was meant both to continue an old romance and to seek revenge against the Li-Tang house that had destroyed the Sui.
This vulgar plot was likewise stitched straight from The Erotic History of Emperor Yang of Sui. One could only say that the ancients had quite the imagination.]
Li Shimin's heart had never been as restless as it was at this moment.
Damn it—I really want to see Journey to the West with my own eyes…
Although governing through civil means was now Li Shimin's main work, no one could blame him for wanting to read a bit of supernatural fiction in his spare time to relax.
After all, what the Light Screen had previously shown was essentially In Search of the Supernatural.
He hadn't seen these Ming novels, but by Li Shimin's own judgment, In Search of the Supernatural was wildly uneven in quality, and mostly composed of short pieces—hardly satisfying at all.
How enjoyable would a long novel be, with a continuous plot and solid quality? Li Shimin didn't even dare to imagine it.
Qin Qiong, meanwhile, hadn't expected his own name to appear.
"So I became a door god."
Posting door gods was already a traditional custom. As Qin Qiong knew it, the Tang populace currently painted door gods as Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, or as Shentu and Yulei—but posting the two of them hadn't yet become common.
"I can't compare with General Yaoshi," Yuchi Jingde said, his envy undisguised, and even tinged with a trace of resentment.
In terms of imperial favor, they were both dukes—so how did it end up that one became a heavenly marshal, while the other was left guarding commoners' doors?
Qin Qiong keenly sensed his old comrade's thoughts. Looking at the two door-god images on the Light Screen that barely resembled them, he said softly:
"The duty of a door god—small as protecting household peace, great as guarding the gates of the realm—how is that a bad thing?"
Only then did Yuchi Jingde's resentment fade.
Immediately afterward, Li Yuanba's "battle record" left everyone torn between laughter and disbelief.
If you told them of a fierce general who conducted a long-distance raid, charged alone into enemy ranks, and beheaded nearly a hundred foes, they would praise him as a true warrior.
But Li Yuanba's exploits were so absurd that no one believed them for a second. One glance was enough to see they were pure fabrication.
"But who exactly is this Li Yuanba?" Fang Xuanling searched his memory in vain.
"Perhaps the emperor's younger brother, Prince Wei of Huai," Du Ruhui suggested.
"Even Emperor Xuanzong later had to avoid the character xuan because of the Qing emperors' taboos. Prince Wei's name, Xuanba, might have been changed to Yuanba to avoid a taboo."
Du Ruhui also quickly worked out the internal logic of the story.
"With such martial prowess, who could possibly restrain this Yuanba?"
"Most likely he died young, just like Prince Wei."
Otherwise, a man who could behead 1.2 million enemies alone would probably conquer the entire world in under a year.
What followed came so fast it left everyone dizzy.
Su Dingfang wondered who on earth fought from horseback wielding hammers—and what kind of divine steed could carry an eight-hundred-jin weapon?
Qin Qiong and Yuchi Jingde both objected: when we go into battle, we fight with lances on horseback and blades on foot—since when did we switch between maces and whips?
Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui inferred that this Pei Yuanqing was likely Pei Xingyan, known as a "match for ten thousand men."
They then started heckling: Nezha was General Yaoshi's third son—so by that logic, wasn't Li Jing also Pei Xingyan's father?
Yuchi Jingde added loudly:
"And Pei Xingyan was killed by Wang Shichong. General Yaoshi followed His Majesty in defeating Wang Shichong—does that count as avenging his son?"
Su Lie joined in teasing Li Jing as well:
"So the old general can even summon the Old Mother of Mount Li? Tonight I'll go back and set up an altar to the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King first!"
The cult of the Old Mother of Mount Li had already flourished in the Former Han, so everyone was familiar with it.
The comments became so outrageous that even Li Jing looked flustered, arguing back with the others.
Only Li Shimin watched with great amusement.
"It's a pity later generations didn't say how heavy my weapon was, or what my fine steed was named."
When he had read In Search of the Supernatural, he had already thought how nice it would be to be the protagonist.
In one story, a fox spirit named A-Zi could "take the form of a perfect wife." Li Shimin had been quite curious just how stunning that transformation might be.
Now that he knew his own conquests had been written into such tales, his curiosity was boundless.
"I wonder how later generations will depict my heroic charge through enemy formations?"
The Tang emperor was very interested.
The only person in the hall who felt like crying was Li Ji.
When he saw the Right Minister Star of Heaven descend under the name Xu Maogong, Li Ji had a very bad feeling.
After all, he really had once borne the surname Xu, and Maogong was a homophone of Maogong.
At first, he thought it might be some taboo or perhaps some heinous crime committed by later generations.
Instead, he had been written into a heretical Daoist.
Li Ji was furious beyond measure.
It was only after Li Shimin spoke to console him that his mood finally turned.
"Maogong is compared with Marquis Wu of Zhuge. That suggests his legacy lies in strategy. Courage and wisdom combined—what regret could there be?"
No wonder later generations praised his loyalty and righteousness. All of Li Ji's dissatisfaction vanished instantly.
The same treatment as Marquis Wu—what was there left to complain about?
Having comforted Li Ji, Li Shimin then burst out laughing at the Light Screen's content.
"Yang Guang reincarnated as Yang Yuhuan?"
"The Erotic History of Emperor Yang?"
"These later literati—what bizarre imaginations! I only regret that Yang Guang himself never lived to see it!"
…
Zhuge Liang, however, found himself thinking along a different line.
"For the common people, the words of official histories are simply too obscure."
"And so, although there are records of famous generals and worthy ministers, the people do not know their lives. What is passed down by word of mouth inevitably becomes distorted."
"But if one were to use plain language, to explain the lives of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing, to tell of their campaigns against the Xiongnu—it might also be feasible."
This was one of the insights Zhuge Liang had gained recently while teaching at the small academy.
He could only spare time to teach once every ten days, yet the students waited eagerly each time.
Why?
Because it was interesting. Because the classics taught in other courses were simply too obscure.
The most typical example was mathematical texts. The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art was manageable, having already been expanded and annotated in the Former Han.
But The Zhoubi Suanjing, which required foundations in mathematics and calendrical science to understand, had forced Zhuge Liang to personally begin writing annotations—otherwise, it was impossible to teach.
Liu Bei followed Zhuge Liang's line of thought as well.
"Recently in Chengdu, I've noticed that when the people rest after meals, all they talk about are spirits and ghosts."
"If there were writings similar to these novels, letting the people know that Wei and Huo achieved merit through study and bravery, not divine favor, it would be of great benefit."
Pang Tong nodded in agreement.
"Better to rely on diligence than on ghosts; better to set one's own lofty ambitions than to consult shamans."
"Only… literacy is difficult."
On this point, Zhang Song was full of confidence.
"Now that the granaries are full, the people of Chengdu wish to know propriety and honor."
"Just last month, a student from the small academy asked me—said that his father now had surplus wealth and wished to find a place to learn literacy."
"In my humble view, by early next year at the latest, the character schools the Military Adviser spoke of earlier can be opened."
These character schools had been part of Zhuge Liang's earlier plans—schools that taught only literacy. The investment required was quite low, but for now, labor was needed everywhere in Chengdu, so the plan had yet to be implemented.
Liu Bei laughed happily and slapped his thigh.
"Then let us record this matter first."
"Praising the merits of Wei and Huo, inspiring a love of learning and a desire to enlist—this too is a way to restore the Han."