Chapter 1: His Majesty Has Passed Away!

“Your Highness, the Crown Prince! Your Highness!”

A frantic shout rolled in like thunder from afar, filled with panic and urgency. Before Li Chengqian could fully emerge from his thoughts, a figure burst into the hall like a runaway horse, barging straight in without waiting to be announced.

Li Chengqian had been intently tending to the "flowers and plants" before him, but the sudden intrusion interrupted his concentration. He furrowed his brows slightly, set down the small shovel in his hand, and looked toward the armored guard standing before him.

The black armor gleamed coldly under the sunlight, but the guard’s expression was fraught with anxiety.

Curiosity stirred within Li Chengqian as he asked, “What’s wrong, Xianhuai? Why the fuss? Has the sky fallen?”

He casually grabbed the silk cloth from the basin and leisurely wiped the soil off his hands—soil still moist, leaving streaks of brown on the silk.

“Your Highness, it’s terrible news—the sky truly has fallen! Word from Chang’an is that His Majesty has passed away!”

At the first hearing of this news, disbelief painted Li Chengqian’s face.

His eyes widened as if he had just heard the most absurd thing on earth. The silk cloth slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, gathering the dust there.

“Xianhuai, are you certain this news is true?”

Zhang Xianhuai nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Your Highness, you know we have some members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard stationed in Chang’an. This news comes straight from our brothers inside the palace—it is absolutely true.”

“I’ve heard the palace is now under martial law, with the imperial guards patrolling everywhere. The atmosphere is tense!”

“Lord Changsun currently controls the palace. Since His Majesty’s passing was so sudden, to avoid unrest, Lord Changsun has strictly ordered that no mourning be publicly announced.”

“I believe Lord Changsun, being your maternal uncle, is likely waiting for Your Highness to return and take command of the situation,” Zhang Xianhuai speculated, looking at Li Chengqian, hoping the Crown Prince would have a response.

Li Chengqian listened carefully to the report, his brow furrowing even deeper.

He paced back and forth in the hall, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. After all, he had studied history; though not a complete master of the Twenty-Four Histories, his understanding was considerable.

This was Li Shimin—the illustrious emperor known throughout history. How could he have died so suddenly, without warning?

The most critical point was that it was only the fifteenth year of the Zhenguan era!

He had transmigrated as Li Chengqian, and the moment he opened his eyes, Li Shimin had held him in his arms—a miraculous beginning.

Since arriving in this era, he had cautiously played the role of a Crown Prince uninterested in imperial power, instead absorbed in curious skills and amusements.

Thanks to his efforts, Empress Zhangsun only passed away in the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, altering the original historical trajectory.

Li Shimin favored Prince Wei, Li Tai, and Li Chengqian had no interest in competing with the emperor, quietly building his own strength in the shadows.

Like a hunter concealed in the dark, he patiently awaited the right moment, ready to bring his army forward and rightfully claim the position of the first heir of the Tang Dynasty.

But now, Li Shimin had suddenly died? Li Chengqian felt lost, uncertain even how to feel.

To the people, Li Shimin was a capable emperor who brought about the Zhenguan prosperity and made the Tang Dynasty flourish.

But to him personally, he was an unfit father who lavished all his affection on Li Tai, leaving Li Chengqian, the Crown Prince, in a perpetual awkward position.

Not just the historical Li Chengqian, but even his current self found it hard to accept Li Shimin’s inexplicable favoritism.

Perhaps only his mother could understand all his grievances. Thinking of this, he sighed with a heavy heart, the breath filled with helplessness and sorrow.

“My uncle may be my blood relative, but that doesn’t mean he’s acting in my interest.”

“Bear in mind, my uncle is not only the Minister of Works, but also the head of the Changsun family—a newly risen noble house.”

Li Chengqian spoke slowly, his gaze growing profound.

“Li Tai will likely cause some trouble still. My uncle won’t support Li Tai’s ascension; there’s nothing for him to gain from that.”

Closing his eyes, Li Chengqian continued analyzing the tangled possibilities, trying to make sense of the chaotic situation.

Zhang Xianhuai scratched his head in confusion and asked, “Your Highness, you are the Crown Prince! If His Majesty has passed, why wouldn’t you ascend the throne?”

“Of course not. This throne is mine to sit upon. It’s just a matter of bargaining with the noble families and ministers over interests.”

Li Chengqian opened his eyes, a resolute gleam flashing within.

“Don’t rush back to Chang’an yet. Let them squabble a bit more. Go fetch Master Qi and tell him I have important matters to discuss.”

Li Chengqian gave Zhang Xianhuai a look filled with unquestionable authority.

Though puzzled, Zhang Xianhuai respectfully bowed and swiftly left to summon Master Qi.

Li Chengqian quietly gazed at the crops growing inside the glass-covered greenhouses before him, imagining that next year’s yield might multiply.

Indeed, these greenhouses held what were considered the transmigrator’s treasures—potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn.

Ever since he had some power in his youth, he had been passionate about investing in fleets to sail and seek out these high-yield crops.

Sometimes, when funds ran short, he shamelessly borrowed from Empress Zhangsun.

Fortunately, these crops were not hard to find, but the difficulty lay in that during this period, they were not yet as high-yield as in later centuries.

Yet compared to the Tang Dynasty’s existing crops, they were still astonishing.

Take potatoes, for example; all transmigrators praised them as simple, easy to cultivate, and high-yield.

But in truth, when Li Chengqian earnestly planted potatoes, he realized the predecessors had perhaps misled him.

The greatest challenge was soil fertility. Only prime farmland at this time could barely meet the nutrient needs of potatoes. Irrigation and planting techniques were also limited.

Every stage demanded meticulous control; a slight misstep would drastically reduce output.

Fortunately, he was the Crown Prince, and one who had neither rebelled nor caused trouble.

Apart from his fondness for peculiar inventions and pastimes, he had no flaws.

Early on, Li Shimin had stationed him in Xianyang.

There, he established an agricultural bureau dedicated to studying how to increase crop yields and adapt cultivation to local conditions.

He gathered experienced farmers and learned scholars from across the land to join this great endeavor.

Thanks to years of research, the yields of these high-yield crops soared.

Potato yields rose from an initial 500 jin per mu to 1,500 jin—tripling the output.

Only Li Chengqian knew the hardships behind this: each failure, each trial, bore the sweat and tears of countless people.

Corn’s output was the lowest among the three, but still impressive compared to the era’s usual crops.

Looking at the thriving seedlings, Li Chengqian squinted thoughtfully.

He envisioned the common people of the Tang, nourished by these crops, living free from want, the nation flourishing.

It was hard to imagine how powerful the Tang would become thanks to these innovations.

But for now, they must not be disseminated widely. They must never fall into the hands of the noble families—once they control this, the consequences would be dire.

Soon, a middle-aged man in white robes strolled slowly into the hall, his posture elegant and steps steady, each movement exuding calm composure.

Upon seeing Li Chengqian, he respectfully bowed and said, “Your Highness.”

His voice was gentle and humble, like a spring breeze.

Li Chengqian nodded. “Master Qi, the Embroidered Uniform Guard has reported His Majesty’s passing. You must know by now.”

Master Qi nodded, his eyes grave. “I am aware, Your Highness. But the waters in Chang’an run deep and murky—the silt and water are thoroughly stirred up. You must wait for a while until the silt settles again; only then can we see clearly what lies beneath.”

“I understand, Master Qi. I called you here to ask—how are the tasks I entrusted to you progressing?”

Li Chengqian looked at him with anticipation.

Master Qi smiled lightly, producing a ledger from his sleeve. Opening it, he said, “Your Highness, you may well be the wealthiest person in the Tang outside of the noble families—perhaps even wealthier than they are.”

“Seven days ago, we sold the last batch of glazed goods to the noble families, earning 43,580,000 strings of cash. Currently, we have 653,210,000 strings of cash available for use.”

Hearing this figure, even Li Chengqian drew a sharp breath.

He knew he had amassed considerable wealth over the years, but had never imagined it reached such staggering sums.

Keep in mind, the Tang treasury’s annual revenue barely exceeded 30 million strings.

Yet even with this, Master Qi said he might still be less wealthy than the noble families—their riches were truly unfathomable.

Li Chengqian silently resolved: the Five Surnames and Seven Notables must be destroyed!

They were like parasites leeching off the Tang’s foundation, steadily eroding the state’s roots.

“Well done. Have our troops been fully armored?”

Li Chengqian inquired, knowing that the army’s equipment was crucial to his plans.

Master Qi paused, then replied, “Your Highness, fully equipping everyone with heavy armor is not easy. Iron is scarce, and even with money, it’s not guaranteed.”

“Currently, the 105,000 soldiers in the Xianyang garrison are all equipped with light armor.”

“The 5,000 soldiers of the Divine Machine Battalion are also fully outfitted with light armor, but their main strength lies in their firearms.”

“The Ministry of Works has been working day and night. Each soldier now has a hand cannon and ten rounds of ammunition, though we are still some way from your goal of having two hand cannons per soldier firing alternately. But the craftsmen are diligently improving technology and production efficiency.”

“The 3,000 heavy cavalry are fully equipped.”

“Your Highness, you should see them! Mounted on their tall warhorses, they look like gods of war descended to earth. They may rival even the Black Armor Army.”

“The 9,000 logistics troops are also fully equipped with light armor. If unrest breaks out in Chang’an, Your Highness can deploy forces at any time to restore order.”

“While full heavy armor for all is impossible, full light armor is quite feasible!”

Hearing this, Li Chengqian finally relaxed completely.

Though he was Crown Prince, as the saying goes, “Having parents is not as good as having oneself.”

The soldiers of the three major battalions were unlike those of the court—each was a genuine farmer’s son, with clean backgrounds.

Li Chengqian had personally sent men from village to village to recruit them.

He treated these soldiers like brothers; they not only ate the best food but used the best equipment.

Each soldier underwent rigorous training, becoming elite troops.

This was a force unshackled by anyone, answering only to Li Chengqian himself.

Once tempered in battle, these elite soldiers would be his ultimate weapon.

This was all in preparation to strike at the powerful noble families—not having to argue endlessly at court. If the court failed to dispatch troops, Li Chengqian had his private army.

Li Shimin would never have imagined that his seemingly idle, wayward Crown Prince had quietly established his own power base in Xianyang.

This was a perilous position; in any dynasty, a Crown Prince discovered amassing forces like this was taboo.

Supporting so many men was an astronomical burden, requiring flawless secrecy with no slip-ups.

Yet Li Chengqian had formed the Embroidered Uniform Guard at seven years old. By the time he and Li Shimin petitioned to conduct research on strange techniques in Xianyang, the entire city, top to bottom, had become the Crown Prince’s realm.

Those not aligned with the Crown Prince had long since been buried beneath two-meter-high grass.

His influence was like an invisible net spread across Xianyang, growing unseen—and this would soon become his strongest weapon in the coming power struggle.