Pursuit of Knowledge

The birth of Li Zhi seemed to bring a powerful wave of fortune to the Great Tang, or at least, so Li Shimin believed. To begin with, in the very year of Li Zhi’s birth, the Tang managed to eliminate Liang Shidu, who had carved out his own territory in Mongolia, and successfully occupied a location perfectly suited for counterattacking the Turks.

Soon after, the Turks suffered consecutive years of snow and drought, compounded by a series of internal uprisings. Several tribes defected to the Tang. Seizing the opportunity, Li Shimin launched a campaign against the Turks and, by March of the fourth year of the Zhenguan era, had utterly destroyed them.

Everything unfolded so smoothly it was almost unbelievable, even to Li Shimin himself. Coupled with Li Zhi’s remarkable development—walking at eight months, weaned at nine, speaking at ten—Li Shimin was all the more convinced it was Li Zhi’s birth that had ushered in this wave of good fortune for the empire.

So, not long after Li Zhi’s second birthday, Li Shimin could not wait to grant him the title of Prince of Jin. Though Li Zhi had yet to be assigned his own fief, among the imperial children he was already a figure set apart.

Having just turned three by traditional reckoning, Li Zhi knew he should seize this opportunity to make a strong impression and secure his standing in Li Shimin’s heart. After some thought, he proactively addressed Li Shimin: “Father Emperor, your son wishes to study. Would you invite a tutor for me?”

Li Shimin was puzzled by this request and asked, “Why are you so eager to read, Zhinü? Don’t you wish to play with your brothers and sisters for a few more years?”

Li Zhi thought: I’d like nothing more than to play a couple more years, but I can’t get along with that band of little brats. Rather than wasting my days in boredom, I might as well start learning early and make up for my previous life’s shortcomings in the arts.

So he shook his head and replied earnestly, “Father, your son finds no joy in endless play. I wish to read and learn my letters.”

Recalling Li Zhi’s many extraordinary traits, Li Shimin began to suspect the child was unusually mature. After a moment’s hesitation, he agreed, “Since you are so determined, your father will seek out a worthy teacher for you. But you mustn’t let Father down!”

Li Zhi actually felt a touch nervous at this. In his former life he hadn’t been hopeless in the arts, but he’d never excelled either. What if, in this new life, he failed to impress Li Shimin because of it? But now that things had come to this, there was no backing down. He nodded resolutely and said, “I will study diligently, Father, and I won’t disappoint you.”

Li Shimin, seeing Li Zhi’s resolve, had nothing more to add. In his view, as long as Li Zhi was willing to learn, even if his progress was slow, it was more than acceptable.

However, neither Li Shimin nor Li Zhi himself expected that the road to learning would be anything but smooth.

“Teacher, does teaching me to read make you unhappy?” Li Zhi asked, watching the instructor seated across from him.

The teacher was momentarily taken aback by the question, staring blankly for several breaths before replying, “Why would Your Highness think so?”

Li Zhi looked at him with complete seriousness. “Because, from the moment you entered the study, you’ve worn a stern face.”

Upon hearing this, the teacher thought, This child, small as he is, makes quite a fuss. Is he criticizing me for not offering a smile? His expression grew even more severe as he responded, “A teacher’s duty is to guide, instruct, and resolve doubts—how can I wear frivolous expressions and disgrace the dignity of learning?”

I am here to impart knowledge. If I am not serious, how can I honor my calling?

Li Zhi said, “But I have only just begun learning, and your constant sternness frightens me so much I cannot concentrate.”

At these words, the teacher had had enough. “A student should compose himself, focus his mind, see with his eyes, recite with his mouth, listen with his ears, and reflect in silence—how can you be distracted by other things? Why are you watching my expression instead of your studies?”

Li Zhi thought: Every time I look up, that grim face scares me half to death—how am I supposed to learn?

He quickly said, “Teacher, to me you are like a lion or a tiger—I am so afraid, I cannot study.”

So to me, you’re as intimidating as a tiger; just looking at you makes learning impossible.

This incensed the teacher. With all the seriousness he brought to his vocation, he only wanted the child to take his studies seriously—and now the boy compared him to a beast?

He scrutinized Li Zhi again and concluded the child couldn’t even distinguish friend from foe, much less be suited for lessons. Rising to his feet, he said, “Your Highness is still too young and childlike—perhaps it would be best to wait two more years before beginning your education. I will inform His Majesty.” Without another word, he strode off.

Li Zhi could only stare after him in astonishment, thinking: Is this old man out of his mind?

All I wanted was a more relaxed environment for learning, not to stare at a debt collector’s face all day—how does that make me unfit to study? Could he not consider the feelings of a child?

While Li Zhi was still stewing over his teacher’s lack of empathy, the instructor had already reported the matter to Li Shimin. To his credit, teachers of this era were truly conscientious; he recounted the entire episode to Li Shimin and concluded, “In my opinion, the Prince of Jin is still too young for formal instruction.”

Li Shimin’s mind was troubled by this report. Teachers, in their pursuit of discipline, all maintained stern expressions during lessons. Li Zhi, however, had been raised in luxury and had never encountered a harsh face in his life. Even if he switched to another teacher, the result might be the same.

Was it better to wait two years and let him join his brothers in their studies? With that, Li Shimin gently reassured the teacher, saying he would consider the matter, and dismissed him.

But Li Zhi was the apple of Li Shimin’s eye, and after the teacher left, he went straight to the Taiji Palace to find the glum child.

Scooping Li Zhi into his arms, Li Shimin asked, “Why are you so downcast, Zhinü?”

Li Zhi replied, “Father, today’s teacher never smiled while teaching, and it frightened me.”

As he carried Li Zhi toward Empress Zhangsun, Li Shimin explained, “You may not know this, but teachers always behave so. Otherwise, how would their students be obedient?”

Li Zhi thought: I don’t care about the others; my teacher mustn’t glare at me—I owe him nothing.

So he said, “But Father and Mother never show me such faces, and yet I am always obedient, am I not?”