[Lightscreen]
[Liu Rengui handled the case impartially—and was demoted.
Li Yifu collected power and pleasure alike—and stood firm as Mount Tai.
Li Zhi's selective enforcement of the law was a blunt announcement to the entire empire:
this is a good dog, and I, the Son of Heaven, am personally keeping him.
Yet the reason the world can still move forward is precisely because there are always people who stubbornly believe that justice outweighs power—and are willing to practice that belief to the bitter end.
This time, the one who stepped out to slap Li Zhi across the face was a sixth-rank Attending Censor.
His name was Wang Yifang.
Wang Yifang was already a known figure, not some nobody or some mystery.
He had once been evaluated by Wei Zheng himself.
"Wei Zheng cherished his talent—
and only regretted that he was too upright."
And who, exactly, was Wei Zheng?
He was the greatest roaster of the Zhenguan era.
According to statistics compiled in Essentials of Government of the Zhenguan Era, Wei Zheng submitted fifty recorded remonstrations to Emperor Taizong, including eleven lengthy memorials—and those were only the ones that made it into the books.
As for the blunt, face-to-face criticisms that never made it onto paper?
Countless.
Historical records estimate that over his lifetime, Wei Zheng delivered "several hundred thousand characters" worth of remonstrance to Li Shimin.
At one point, Emperor Taizong was so furious he reportedly jumped to his feet and shouted:
"One day I'll kill that damned peasant!"
If someone capable of driving an emperor to that point described another man as "too upright," one could easily imagine just how iron-headed that person must have been.
Wang Yifang himself came from poverty.
His father died early, and he was raised single-handedly by his mother. Fortunately, he excelled in his studies and took first place in the imperial examinations during the Zhenguan years, earning the admiration of none other than Wei Zheng, who was serving as chief examiner at the time.
Wei Zheng, pleased and impressed, felt a rare urge to grow closer.
As it happened, he had a niece—of suitable age, proper appearance, and still unmarried—so he personally proposed the match.
Wang Yifang was deeply moved.
And then he refused.
Not long after that, Wei Zheng fell ill and passed away.
Immediately afterward, his name was dragged into Hou Junji's rebellion case.
Wei Zheng had once recommended Hou Junji to Emperor Taizong, praising him as having the makings of a prime minister.
Hou Junji later rebelled.
Wei Zheng had also enthusiastically praised Du Zhenglun, calling his talent unmatched in past or present. Taizong promoted him heavily—only for Du Zhenglun to turn out to have "useless" written all over his face.
As if that weren't enough, someone secretly reported that Wei Zheng had been showing his remonstrative drafts to the historian Chu Suiliang.
The former suggested factionalism.
The latter hinted at chasing posthumous fame.
When those two accusations collided, emotions flared and reason lost its footing.
Emperor Taizong personally issued an edict canceling the engagement between Princess Hengshan and Wei Shuyu, and even went so far as to destroy Wei Zheng's tombstone.
And it was at this exact moment that Wang Yifang appeared at Wei Zheng's door—this time, proposing marriage to Wei Zheng's niece.
His explanation was clear and unwavering.
He had refused the match earlier because marrying into the household of a sitting chancellor could appear as forming political cliques, which would harm Wei Zheng's reputation.
Now that Wei Zheng was gone, he proposed in order to repay his benefactor's kindness.
Contemporaries praised him for possessing the bearing of a true gentleman.
Less than a year later, after failing to conquer Goguryeo, Emperor Taizong effectively slapped himself in the face.
He reinstated Wei Zheng's honors, restored the tombstone, personally performed sacrificial rites, and personally visited and rewarded Wei Zheng's family.
Wang Yifang's act of loyalty during Wei Zheng's darkest hour earned him Taizong's notice—and made him a favored figure in the emperor's eyes.
Unfortunately, Wang Yifang's luck was scarcely better than Wei Zheng's.
The year after Wei Zheng's tombstone was restored, someone accused Zhang Liang, one of the Lingyan Pavilion meritorious officials, of rebellion.
Li Shimin acted swiftly.
Zhang Liang was executed almost immediately.
Wang Yifang, who had been friendly with Zhang Liang in daily life, was implicated by association and demoted to Ji'an Assistant Magistrate of Danzhou.
Which was to say—
Hainan Island.
Nominally a demotion.
In practice, exile.
Wang Yifang voiced no complaints.
He worked diligently and, on Hainan Island, established the first school in its recorded history, teaching the local people the customs and learning of Huaxia civilization—cementing Hainan as an inseparable part of the cultural sphere.]
Wei Zheng stroked his beard, wearing a puzzled expression.
"The greatest… roaster?"
Somehow, it didn't quite sound like praise.
Fang Xuanling tried to interpret it literally.
"'Roast' implies reprimand and sharp rebuke, with forceful breath and righteous indignation," he reasoned carefully.
"Perhaps later generations use the term to praise Lord Xuancheng's remonstrations as thunderous and awe-inspiring, rooted firmly in justice."
"And those who are virtuous, learned, and advanced in years are often called 'great.'"
Wei Zheng imagined it for a moment and found the evolving meanings of later generations' words both amusing and oddly precise.
Thus reassured, he turned to Li Shimin and solemnly declared:
"Your servant shall constantly remain vigilant and reflect upon himself—
not only to be Your Majesty's roaster, but also to be his own."
"Only then may I depart this world without disgracing the title of Great Roaster."
Li Shimin opened his mouth.
He really wanted to say that this was completely unnecessary.
But understanding that no man was perfect, he could only nod helplessly.
Wei Zheng, on the other hand, was in high spirits.
He even dragged Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui into it, urging the two chancellors not to forget to supervise His Majesty as well.
Let us all strive to become The Greatest Master roasters of the Zhenguan era.
Li Shimin's expression turned slightly bitter.
He had already seen the future statistics.
Several hundred thousand characters of remonstrance.
Wei Zheng truly could remonstrate, dared to remonstrate, and remonstrated fiercely.
No wonder later generations crowned him with that title.
Strangely enough, this realization made Li Shimin feel a little proud.
If I can tolerate hundreds of thousands of words of harsh advice, what can't I tolerate?
And yet later generations still called me petty?
Where exactly was I petty?
The atmosphere in the Ganlu Hall abruptly cooled when the light curtain displayed the words:
"Destroyed Wei Zheng's tombstone."
The calmest person present was actually Hou Junji.
Or rather—since the previous secret meeting, Hou Junji had already given up struggling.
The Crown Prince's rebellion dragged me in. What was I supposed to do?
All I can do now is serve His Majesty well, clear his doubts, and absolutely refuse to get involved in whether the heir is Chengqian or Li Zhi.
At the same time, Hou Junji cast a grateful glance at Wei Zheng.
Who would've thought? Wei Zheng once praised me as having the talent of a prime minister. Truly discerning eyes.
Wei Zheng, however, had no attention to spare for interpreting Hou Junji's look.
Watching his own tombstone be destroyed and rebuilt, he instead sincerely praised:
"This Wang Yifang is truly a gentleman.
Your Majesty's promotion of the examination system has produced such officials—this is Great Tang's fortune."
Li Shimin nodded lightly.
Unwilling to fawn, steadfast in justice, born poor yet refusing to cling to the powerful—Wang Yifang exemplified exactly what the examination system was meant to cultivate.
After the praise, Wei Zheng's expression grew uneasy.
"Later generations are not wrong. In this matter, your servant indeed carried the suspicion of seeking fame."
Wei Zheng harbored little resentment over his posthumous treatment.
If one could remonstrate hundreds of thousands of words and still die peacefully, that alone proved he had met a magnanimous ruler.
But he also understood better than anyone—
A remonstrant must never err.
Seeing Wei Zheng embarrassed was rare.
Li Shimin savored it briefly before consoling him.
"Xuancheng is without fault. Rather, it was I who failed you."
"You were not some reincarnated star-lord from later novels—having private sentiments is only human."
"That the realm was pacified was not solely my talent, but also Shubao and Jingde's bloodshed, Kemin and Xuanling's strategies, and Yaoshi's solitary defense of the southern frontier."
"So it is with this court. This is not my Zhenguan, but our Zhenguan."
"Your writings recording its achievements—how could they be wrong? The memorials of you all should enter the official records."
Wasn't the relationship between ruler and minister just like water and boat?
When weighing emperors across history, fierce remonstrants like Wei Zheng and towering generals like Li Jing all met good ends—forming the legends of Zhenguan.
As for destroying the tombstone…
Let it serve as a warning.
If necessary, he'd just keep Xuancheng for dinner tonight and apologize properly.
Patting Wei Zheng on the shoulder, Li Shimin smiled with genuine ease.
Newly arrived Liu Rengui felt that, at this moment, the emperor shone with an almost blinding radiance.
After having dealt with all this, Li Shimin turned to the next matter—
Zhang Liang's rebellion.
His head started to ache.
[Lightscreen]
[Relying on outstanding political achievements, Wang Yifang was exceptionally promoted by Li Zhi in 656, returning to the capital as an Attending Censor.
But seeing the emperor openly take sides, Wang Yifang could no longer sit still.
After drafting his memorial, he hesitated.
Hainan Island for ten years did not break my resolve…
but if I implicate Mother again, what then?
His mother was a remarkable woman.
She cited the story of Wang Ling's mother, who would rather commit suicide than see her son submit to Xiang Yu.
"If you can speak for righteousness today," she said,
"then as your mother, I would die without regret."
With his mother's support, Wang Yifang stepped forward calmly in court and remonstrated, arguing that Li Zhi, as ruler of all under Heaven, must serve as a moral example and should sentence the treacherous minister Li Yifu to death according to Tang law.
Li Zhi flipped through the statutes.
Then convicted Wang Yifang of offending his superior.
He demoted him to Assistant Officer of Laizhou, once again protecting Li Yifu.
Upon reaching Laizhou, Wang Yifang resigned outright.
He opened a private academy, educated students, and cared for his aging mother.
Not long after his mother passed away peacefully, Wang Yifang himself fell ill and died at the age of fifty-five.
His life rose and fell repeatedly.
He never rose above the sixth rank.
Yet the Old Book of Tang granted him a biography of his own—marking him as a defining embodiment of early Tang literary integrity.
As for Zhang Liang's rebellion, it may have been the most absurd case of the late Zhenguan era.
After executing Zhang Liang, even Li Shimin admitted that Zhang Liang's "rebellious form had not yet taken shape," and that he "regretted it to this day."
Still, Zhang Liang himself was far from clean.
Five hundred adopted sons, stockpiled weapons, dabbling in prophetic texts—none of it resembled the behavior of a normal man.
Strip the case down to its core, and it was simple.
Zhang Liang came from poverty and once farmed for a living.
After rising to prominence, the first thing he did was abandon his original wife and marry a younger, more beautiful woman surnamed Li.
The Old Book of Tang described Lady Li with two words:
Lewd. Arrogant.
She was called lewd because she slept with several of Zhang Liang's adopted sons—calling her "Mother" by day and "Madam" by night.
One particularly notable adopted son was Zhang Shenji, formerly a pen seller, handsome, talented in song and dance.
Lady Li took a liking to him, had Zhang Liang adopt him, and brought him into the household for nightly revelry.
As their bond deepened, Lady Li sought the greatest benefit for her beloved.
Her method?
Witchcraft and prophecy.
With the help of his adopted sons, Zhang Liang conveniently "decoded" two prophecies:
Lady Li bore the fate of a royal consort.
Zhang Shenji was destined for great nobility.
The implications were terrifyingly explicit.
Yet Zhang Liang swallowed it whole.
He grew obsessed with sorcery, and soon gathered several fortune-telling frauds around him.
After much closed-door scheming, Zhang Liang reached a revelation:
I have Heaven's mandate.
Things spiraled quickly.
When reported, the sorcerers—sharp enough to survive—sold Zhang Liang out on the spot before the imperial investigators.
In a feudal age, equality and rule of law were hard ideals.
Zhang Liang died, and that was that.
What made it tragic was that he had survived the fall of Sui, passed through the Xuanwu Gate Incident, governed well during Zhenguan, suppressed local tyrants, and aided the poor—earning Wang Yifang's friendship.
Yet this grassroots talent ultimately capsized in his own household.
History, it seemed, always loved its echoes.
Don't you think so, right?
Li Shimin.Li Shimin.
Li Zhi.