Chapter 27: Li Chengqian's Choice and Li Shimin's Leisure

Zhaoling Mausoleum is an imperial resting place that carries the dignity and deep emotions of the Great Tang imperial family. The last time Li Chengqian visited this site was during the passing of Empress Zhangsun. In his heart, his mother was like the warm sunshine that illuminated his formative years; now that she rested within Zhaoling, the land held a profound and sacred significance for him. It was precisely for this reason that he chose to develop Xianyang, as if being there kept him closer to her.

Zhaoling is located on Mount Jiuzong in Liquan County, Xianyang. The mountain stands abrupt and majestic, its main peak piercing the clouds like the dignity of a monarch. Most remarkably, nine mountain ridges radiate evenly from the main peak. Viewed from the southeast, these ridges resemble nine colossal dragons, robust and imposing, guarding the main peak like a natural barrier. It is as if the heavens crafted this site specifically for an imperial mausoleum. Construction began in the tenth year of the Zhenguan era, consuming the immense efforts of countless master craftsmen; the project was so vast that it remains unfinished to this day.

Li Chengqian stood quietly to the side, watching with solemn eyes as the soldiers carried the coffin of Li Shimin slowly toward the mausoleum. His gaze was filled with deep sorrow and reluctance, and he found himself following behind them. The funeral procession was grave and stately; the rhythmic, heavy footsteps of the soldiers seemed to strike at the hearts of all who heard them.

Suddenly, an official in the procession turned around and caught sight of Li Chengqian. He asked in shock, "Why are you following us?"

His voice was not loud, but in the quiet procession, it rippled like a stone cast into a still pond. When Li Chengqian turned at the sound, the official’s face turned deathly pale upon recognizing him. His legs went weak, and he immediately knelt in terror, trembling as he cried out, "Your Majesty!"

At this exclamation, the orderly procession erupted into a stir. Only then did the crowd realize with astonishment that the Emperor was not in the palace presiding over the funeral, but had secretly followed the procession to Zhaoling. The officials looked at one another, yet no one dared to voice a word of censure. A profound silence fell, broken only by the wind, which seemed to echo the shock of this sudden turn of events.

Seeing the soldiers move to set down the coffin and kneel upon hearing the cry, Li Chengqian stepped forward and raised a hand to stop them. "No need for formalities. Continue inside," he said, his voice steady and firm.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" the soldiers responded in unison. Their voices echoed through the valley as they resumed their march.

Li Chengqian cast a slow glance at the officials behind him and said with a solemn expression, "Rise, all of you. Attend to your duties. I have come to Zhaoling to visit the Empress."

Fifty-nine-year-old Liu Hongji hesitated, then stepped forward and bowed. "Your Majesty, this action may not conform to ritual. I hope Your Majesty will reconsider."

Li Chengqian frowned slightly, a flicker of determination crossing his eyes. "My mind is made up. No more need be said." With that, he stepped forward to follow the coffin into the depths of Zhaoling.

The ministers left kneeling outside looked at each other, their faces filled with shock and bewilderment. Yuchi Jingde furrowed his brow and leaned toward Li Ji, lowering his voice. "Look at His Majesty... what are we to do?"

Li Ji, equally helpless, replied in a low tone, "His Majesty has made his decision; what can we do? We can only hope no trouble arises." They exchanged glances, each seeing a sense of relief in the other—relief that Li Shimin had not come along. They knew that ascending Zhaoling required a devout heart; one could not ride in a carriage but had to walk every step of the way. The journey was exceptionally arduous and demanded great physical stamina—perhaps that was why mostly military generals were present, while the civil officials remained in the capital to manage the funeral rites.

As they looked at one another, they did not notice Li Jing watching them quietly from behind, his deep eyes filled with contemplation. *His Majesty’s actions are bound to stir a storm,* Li Jing thought to himself.

As they entered the mausoleum, the eternal lamps were lit one by one. The dim, flickering light began to dispel the ink-black darkness of the tomb. Though the light was faint, it was enough to reveal their surroundings. As an imperial tomb, its scale was grand and its atmosphere extraordinary. Strangely, however, it did not feel eerie to Li Chengqian. The tomb passages were wide and long, like a tunnel through time leading into the depths of history. The walls were adorned with exquisite murals, their vibrant colors and delicate brushwork telling the glorious history of the Great Tang and the honor of the imperial house.

Each mural was a masterpiece: some depicted figures, others scenes or mythical legends. The figures were lifelike—some with flowing robes, others radiating majesty. The scenes were captured in meticulous detail, from the luxury and bustle of court banquets to the clashing steel and galloping horses of the battlefield.

Looking at the murals, Li Chengqian could not help but marvel, "Such murals are truly the work of the gods; they must have cost countless craftsmen their lifeblood."

On the ceiling were lifelike stone carvings. The auspicious beasts and birds seemed to stand guard over the tomb, each in a different posture—some spreading their wings to take flight, others standing in awe-inspiring poses. Every line testified to the supreme skill of the artisans.

Following the procession and the pre-marked signs, Li Chengqian carefully navigated the labyrinthine tomb passages until they reached the main chamber. Two massive stone coffins sat in the center, one already sealed. The exterior of the coffin was exquisitely carved with a phoenix perched on a phoenix tree (wutong). The feathers were so finely detailed that they seemed to tremble, as if the bird were about to soar. The stone relief was painted in brilliant colors—red as fire, gold as light—intertwining to make the phoenix appear vivid and alive.

The coffin was sealed shut. Looking at this familiar yet distant resting place, Li Chengqian’s mind filled with the image of his mother’s voice and smile. Thinking of the mother who had been so kind to him now lying there alone, a wave of grief washed over him, nearly drowning him. His eyes reddened, his lips trembled, and he whispered, "Mother, your child has come to see you..."

At that moment, Li Shimin’s coffin was slowly lowered into the other stone sarcophagus. Then, precious funerary objects were carefully placed atop it. An official in charge of the placement picked up an exquisite piece of jade and remarked to his colleague, "This was a favorite of His Majesty’s in life; see that it is placed properly." The grave goods—gold, silver, jade, and ancient calligraphy—were all priceless, bearing witness to the prosperity of the Tang and the reverence held for Li Shimin.

Then, with a heavy sound, the stone sarcophagus slowly closed. It was designed with intricate mechanisms; once shut, it could not be opened from the outside. If anyone attempted to force it, the tomb’s traps would be triggered, with unimaginable consequences.

Li Chengqian watched it all in silence. Seeing his father and mother lying there, a sense of profound loneliness spread from the depths of his heart, as if he were the only person left in the world. He took a deep breath and said to the soldiers, "Guard this place well. Do not let the Emperor and Empress be disturbed."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" the soldiers responded in unison.

After everything was arranged, Li Chengqian stood for a while, as if to etch the moment into his memory forever. Then, he took a deep breath and ordered the soldiers to seal the tomb gate. His voice was hoarse. "Let them rest here in peace for all eternity."

The soldiers obeyed and began to slowly push the heavy door shut. Having already revealed his identity, Li Chengqian did not want to waste time or engage in any more tedious, complex rituals. He ordered the procession to return to Chang'an immediately. He also instructed Wen Ruchu to send someone to ride posthaste to the capital and notify Chancellor Fang and Grand Tutor Qi to conclude the funeral as quickly as possible.

In Li Chengqian’s view, the Great Tang was at a critical juncture of development and needed to focus its energy on nation-building rather than wasting it on empty formalities. He told Wen Ruchu, "National affairs are paramount. Keep the funeral simple; do not be bound by convention or waste the people's resources."

Wen Ruchu nodded, "Your Majesty is wise. I shall make the arrangements at once."

Watching the figure depart, Li Chengqian thought to himself: *Once a person is gone, no matter how luxurious the rituals, they are but smoke and mirrors, devoid of real meaning. Only by making the Great Tang strong and prosperous will the spirits of my parents truly rest in peace.*

He knew that simplifying Li Shimin’s funeral would inevitably cause a massive uproar. The noble clans would certainly seize this opportunity to attack his lack of filial piety before the world. He didn't even care to hold his own coronation ceremony. He did not care for rumors, nor did he fear the ambitions or conspiracies of the clans. He held fast to his belief: The Son of Heaven should be defined by the strength of his troops and the quality of his horses, not by Confucian rituals used to maintain status. He wanted to save wealth to develop the military and expand the borders, making the map of the Great Tang ever wider—that was his true goal.

***

Meanwhile, in the Songhua Pavilion, Li Shimin was enjoying a comfortable foot bath on the second floor. The room was filled with steam, and two mature, graceful women were busy at his side, skillfully massaging his limbs to improve his circulation.

One smiled and said, "Sir, you must take good care of your body." The other added, "Indeed, our technique is guaranteed to make you feel comfortable."

Li Shimin squinted his eyes in contentment and laughed, "Haha, your skills are truly excellent." The precise pressure made him feel invigorated, as if every pore were rejoicing. Litchi wood burned in the brazier below, releasing waves of warmth. The room was enveloped in steam, like a fairyland on earth. As he enjoyed the foot bath and sauna, the sensation made him tremble with delight. He felt like the world’s premier practitioner of longevity, and there was nothing more wonderful than this.

Yet, for some reason, while lost in his comfort, Li Shimin suddenly sneezed. He found it strange and muttered, "What the devil? Why would I sneeze?"

Just then, the waiter from the Songhe Tower knocked on the door and said respectfully, "Sir, the funeral procession from Chang'an has returned! You must dress quickly and head back!"

Li Shimin, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them wide, a flash of surprise in his gaze. He hurriedly asked, "What time is it?"

The waiter replied, "It is not yet noon, sir!"

Li Shimin frowned, feeling annoyed. *The procession returned so quickly?* he thought. He had estimated that the round trip to Zhaoling, combined with the complex rituals, would take until at least tomorrow. That they had returned today completely disrupted his plans.

He replied to the waiter with some dissatisfaction, "I see."

Though reluctant, Li Shimin dressed slowly. He grumbled to himself, "Damn it, I haven't enjoyed enough yet." However, he had to admit that after the massage and sauna, he felt refreshed, his body radiating a warmth that made him feel years younger. The two women’s skills were indeed impressive.

Dressed, he left the Songhe Tower, returned to his room, and sat in a chair, leisurely waiting for his three old companions to return. However, he did not notice that after he left, the owner of the Songhe Tower emerged from a corner, holding a small notebook. With a serious expression, he began to record: "During the mourning period for the late Emperor, someone in the funeral procession was enjoying a sauna and foot bath on the second floor of my shop."

As he wrote, he recalled Li Shimin’s appearance and continued: "From Chang'an, name unknown, rank unknown, appears to be an aide to the Duke of Ying." He carefully recalled Li Shimin’s features and build, whispering to himself, "Appearance and build, firmly memorized."

After finishing, he signed at the bottom: "Xianyang Brocade Guard, Agent 12003, submitted."

A while later, Yuchi Jingde, Li Ji, and another general returned, dragging their exhausted bodies. As soon as they entered, they saw Li Shimin sitting in the parlor, leisurely sipping white spirits, with a steaming whole roasted lamb on the table, its alluring aroma filling the air.

Seeing them, Li Shimin laughed, "You're here? I just ordered this! I was waiting for you!"

Looking at the relaxed Li Shimin, Li Ji patted his forehead in despair, his face filled with worry. "Your Majesty! Do you know what day it is?"

Li Shimin asked, full of confusion, "What day is it?"

Li Ji said with a bitter face, "It is your mourning period! Your own mourning period! You are eating and drinking like this! What if the Crown Prince finds out and punishes us? And Your Majesty! You are supposedly my personal guard!" He felt like crying as he spoke, his heart filled with anxiety.

Li Shimin, however, seemed entirely unconcerned. He waved his hand and said, "Oh, Chengqian is far away in Chang'an, how could he control me? In all the world, where is there a case of a son punishing his father? Don't worry, if anything happens, I will protect you!"

Yuchi Jingde gulped, nervous. "That's not it, Your Majesty! The Crown Prince came with the funeral procession! If he finds out we were drinking heavily and eating meat during your mourning period, I suspect none of the three of us will escape!"

Hearing this, Li Shimin’s expression shifted, and his brow furrowed. "What? That rebellious son came too?"