Chapter 1: In the Era of Zhenguan, Who Spoke of Martial Virtue?

Year 2 of the Zhenguan Era, Chang’an, inside the Taiji Palace.

“Father, believe me, I absolutely didn’t do this!” On the Ganlu Hall stage, the nine-year-old Second Prince Li Kuan glared indignantly at the astonished Emperor Li Shimin, loudly defending himself against accusations of having beaten his younger brother Li Ke today.

“Hmph!” Wearing his usual attire, Li Shimin, seeing his son deny everything, picked up from the nearby desk the very weapon the “culprit” had used—a wooden stick as thick as an arm—and tossed it in front of Li Kuan. “Recognize this? According to Duan De’s report, a certain pavilion in Lizheng Hall seems to have been damaged. Several fence pillars are missing. You, brat, explain this to me.”

Clang! The sound of the wooden stick hitting the floor.

A sudden sinking feeling stirred within Li Kuan.

“Father…” quick-witted from birth, Li Kuan suddenly looked sorrowful and said, “Could it be that we, father and son, have come to such suspicion?”

Watching his son continue to play the fool, Li Shimin took a deep breath, suddenly realizing he had heard these words somewhere before.

Long ago, his own father Li Yuan had proposed sending him and his elder brother to Luoyang to raise the imperial banner, so they wouldn’t fight to the death. At the time, Li Shimin had answered his father in much the same way.

Hmm… the little rascal has taken a lesson to heart and put it to use…

“You little brat!” Li Shimin glared fiercely at his own “Li Er.” Putting on an air of stern authority, he coldly ordered, “Go apologize to your younger brother! You scared him so badly he caught a cold!”

Poor Li Ke, trembling even at the sight of himself now; one could only imagine how much torment he had suffered at this brat’s hands earlier.

“Father, if I may say so, since we share the same parents, it was Li Ke who dared to order the palace maids to wade through freezing water to fetch the wooden ball he carelessly dropped. I only forced him to feel what it’s like. So why am I to blame?” Li Kuan crossed his arms, giving up pretense as he stared defiantly at Li Shimin.

“You…” Li Shimin was about to raise his hand when he saw the brat had already slyly retreated to the doorway. He pursed his lips, then spoke slowly, “Little wretch, it’s good you have such compassion, but…”

“Water can carry a boat, but it can also overturn it.” Li Kuan boldly interrupted his father’s “but,” looking up with a rebellious glint. “Father, who said that?”

Li Shimin’s face flushed red.

Dammit, this brat has stabbed right into his lungs.

He had long used that saying from Xunzi as his motto, constantly reminding those around him, making it his own well-known phrase.

Now, it was being used against him…

Li Shimin felt an itch in his toes, the urge to kick someone rising.

“Furthermore,” Li Kuan, a master of temperature control, didn’t allow the emperor’s face to fully redden. Though his father’s expression darkened, he calmly defended himself, “I only scared him with the stick. That kid hadn’t even entered the water before he wet himself. You say he caught a cold? Hah! Catching a cold from wetting his own pants isn’t even recorded in the annals!”

“Cough, cough…” Suddenly, from behind the folding screen, a few coughs sounded—those of the court historian responsible for recording the emperor’s daily life, reminding the quarreling father and son of his presence.

It wasn’t that he sought attention, but…

If he truly recorded this father-son exchange as it happened, and it were passed down through the ages...

He dared not imagine the amusement it would bring.

“Hey! Record it truthfully! Or I’ll report you tomorrow!” Li Kuan shouted toward the historian behind the screen.

“Who do you think you’re filing reports with?” Emperor Li Shimin squinted at his somewhat unruly son.

“I’ll find Wei Zheng to expose you!” Li Kuan shouted back.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past, and Li Kuan felt a sharp blow to his backside.

“Ow!” Li Kuan clutched his rear, glaring at Li Shimin, who had silently appeared by his side with a grim expression. “Father! That was a sneak attack! The eldest is alone—no honor in that!”

Honor? Sorry, it was already the second year of Zhenguan!

“You brat, come here,” Li Shimin said as he turned and picked up the wooden stick again. “Let me teach you what honor means!”

I, Li Shimin, not only uphold honor but have it in abundance!

“Wind tight, pull hard!” Seeing his father take such a stance, Li Kuan knew his control had failed. Without hesitation, he spun around and charged out of the hall like a wild bull, pounding footsteps echoing.

Leaving Li Shimin standing there stunned.

“Wind tight… pull hard?!”

Dropping the stick, Li Shimin began to ponder. When he joined the Wagang Fort rebellion long ago, he considered himself an upright and honorable hero. How did he end up with such a little scoundrel constantly mouthing “wind tight, pull hard”?

He couldn’t figure it out—truly, he couldn’t.

In the end, Li Shimin could only attribute all this to the time he left young Li Kuan in Longyou to be cared for by his mother while he campaigned across the realm. Perhaps she had been too doting, too lenient in discipline, which led to this mess...

Thinking of his mother, a wave of melancholy swept over Li Shimin.

He wondered if she, resting beneath the earth, knew about the troubles between himself, his elder brother, and his fourth brother—and if she blamed him for it...

With these thoughts, Li Shimin stood silently at the entrance of Ganlu Hall, gazing out at the steep chill of early spring, the world still bleak and desolate. Not a word escaped his lips.