Chapter 105: Forgiveness

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Gao Lishi watched the two figures—one tall, one small—disappear around the street corner. The smile on his face gradually faded. Every word of their earlier conversation lingered in his ears. The emperor was well aware of these matters; what was called “intimate affairs” of the palace were never kept from him.

Throughout history, emperors who ruled for forty years were few and far between. At such an age, various sinister forces inevitably emerged, scheming about matters after their passing. Only he knew that the current emperor’s health was robust—he could manage several consorts and still play polo vigorously. Though he believed in Taoism, he never indulged in those mystical elixirs. His longevity was likely to disappoint those who harbored ulterior motives.

Likewise, Gao Lishi himself had reached the end of his own lifespan and had no concern for the next generation. His loyalty was firmly fixed on one person alone; all others were enemies, indistinguishable from one another.

With this resolve, he turned back, intending to return to the palace. He had been out long enough today and needed to remind the emperor it was time to return.

Suddenly, a deep voice sounded behind him: “Lord Gao, Lord Gao.”

He turned to see the newcomer. Although Gao was not short, this man was easily over half a head taller, clad in finely crafted armor, resembling a mighty guardian statue.

“General, what’s the matter?”

General Chen Xuanli of the Longwu Army clasped his hands in salute and hurriedly said, “It’s bad—the Tibetan delegation has offended the crown prince’s imperial carriage.”

“Let’s go; accompany me to the carriage,” Gao said, realizing the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, he led the general inside. Emperor Li Longji, his face stern, listened carefully and his expression turned cold.

“Did they say why?”

“They claim it was to perform a ritual on behalf of their prince, the eldest brother,” Chen Xuanli replied flatly, as if a stone had been thrown into mud.

Li Longji seemed to hear a joke. The Tibetan delegations visited Chang’an frequently, especially in recent years. Their requests were always the same—renewing treaties and such. When they were weak, they sought to preserve their lands on paper; when the crisis passed, they tore up those documents like worthless scraps. There was no such easy deal in the world.

As for the nominal half-sister of the emperor, he had barely met her. She was raised in the palace by his uncle Emperor Zhongzong from a young age and was married off by imperial decree. Later, when his own father ascended the throne, he also recognized her as a foster daughter. That was during turbulent times when the court needed a stable external environment, including when Li Longji first took control of governance.

But everyone knew it was merely a political compromise. The Tibetans never ceased their incursions. Only after defeats did they ask for peace in the name of the princess. Over time, their words grew more humble, until thirteen years ago, the princess died in her residence. At that moment, Tang’s national strength reached unprecedented heights, and both sides dropped the last veil, entering a relentless struggle to the death.

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Is this no longer bearable? Li Longji sneered and asked, “How did the crown prince handle it?”

Gao Lishi glanced nervously at Chen Xuanli. This was a difficult question. Although the crown prince’s position appeared firm, no one could truly fathom the emperor’s mind. If any ill thoughts were stirred, even mere rebellious feelings could be fatal.

“According to the Yulin Army envoy who reported this, the crown prince ordered someone to send a message while directing the Tibetan envoys to visit the Ministry of Rites and the Court of Diplomatic Reception. But today, the heads of these departments have all been ordered out of the city. It’s likely the envoys will return empty-handed,” Chen Xuanli answered honestly.

Li Longji responded with a non-committal “hmm,” showing no intention to act immediately.

“Has Yang Guozhong left the city yet?”

Gao Lishi seemed accustomed to the emperor’s erratic thinking and replied softly, “He held grand banquets at his residence yesterday and the day before, supposedly farewells. There may be another one today.”

“And you? No summons?”

“I was just about to mention that. After serving the evening meal, I thought to step out briefly, if Your Majesty permits?”

Li Longji wore an unwilling expression. “You agreed already—why ask me?”

“Just half an hour,” Gao Lishi begged, lowering his face.

“What banquet takes half an hour to eat?”

“Thirty minutes. Nighttime forbids riding horses at speed; even at my fastest, a round trip takes some effort. It wouldn’t do to merely show my face and leave.”

“Fine, don’t pretend. I’ll give you two hours—no need to rush.”

Li Longji made a sweeping gesture, as if brushing away an annoying fly.

Gao Lishi felt as if granted great mercy and cooperated, sighing in relief. “I knew Your Majesty was lenient, which is why I agreed to Doctor Yang’s request first—afraid he’d come bother us in the palace again.”

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“It’s just crying. I don’t know which fool he listened to. Luckily, he has a good temper; he cried for over an hour without stopping. Tell me, where does a man find so many tears?” Li Longji truly did not understand.

“Just a little trick. If anyone wants to watch, I can cry that long too—though afterward, my eyes sting badly.”

Li Longji was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered, shaking his head. “If he doesn’t leave, Li Genun’s illness won’t improve. So many affairs in court, none of them easy.”

Gao Lishi had no answer to this. Like Chen Xuanli, he lowered his head silently. Chen had been waiting for the emperor’s response, but the two spoke as if chatting about trivial matters. Chen was utterly helpless yet powerless.

Li Longji glanced at him and finally sighed. “You’ve praised me as lenient, so I can’t ignore it. Very well, I was going to test his nature. You, however, are too soft-hearted.”

“Conceal your talents and bide your time—conceal your talents and bide your time. After all this, he hasn’t dared to make a proper decision. With such a disposition, how can I entrust this realm to him in the future?”

“The crown prince is kind and filial but has never been involved in military affairs. It’s understandable he finds it difficult to speak boldly,” Gao Lishi said, finally relaxing.

The emperor hoped his son would emulate himself and bear the responsibilities befitting a crown prince. Yet after fifteen years, Li Heng’s temper had been worn down, leaving no spirit for such burdens.

Moreover, in matters involving war between two states, could he truly take charge? Gao Lishi knew well this was a stalemate only the emperor’s command could break.

With a solemn expression, Li Longji made his final decree: “Issue an edict—since the crown prince was performing a ritual on behalf of Heaven, offending his imperial carriage is tantamount to attempted assassination. All Tibetan envoys below deputy envoy rank shall be executed; the chief envoy is to be escorted out of the capital without delay or detainment.”

After a pause, he added, “The imperial guards protecting the crown prince’s carriage shall be dismissed from office and demoted to common soldiers. None of you need to attend to this matter further. Isn’t Gao Xianzhi leading the Right Yulin Guard? Let him handle it; as a frontier general with a fierce spirit, his presence will prevent such incidents.”

This was a blow even to the imperial army. Gao Lishi respectfully acknowledged and hurried out to summon others, so as to prevent any further serious developments.