To be fair.
From the mere fact that Wang Yifang, a sixth-rank official, was granted a standalone biography, Li Shimin found his thoughts drifting far and wide.
He thought of the deeper meaning behind the expansion of the imperial examinations.
He thought of what reforms might follow once more officials of humble origins entered the bureaucracy.
He thought of the role of learning itself—and, ultimately, what Huaxia culture truly meant.
At the same time, Zhang Liang's rebellion revealed another corner of its truth, leaving Li Shimin feeling a mixture of pity, resentment, and regret.
And then—
With a single turn of phrase, the later generations tossed out that teasing, casual rhetorical question.
In an instant, Li Shimin felt an overwhelming urge to draw his bow and seize his sword.
What do you mean by the similarity of history?
What do you mean by overturning the cart in the inner quarters?
For the first time in his life, Li Shimin hated the fact that this light screen separated him from later generations by more than a thousand years.
Otherwise, he truly would have liked to personally introduce those descendants to the Heavenly Strategist General's massive bow, peerless sword, and the green steed beneath his thighs.
And almost immediately, Li Shimin understood something else.
Why, in the histories of later ages, did he explode in rage at Wei Zheng's remonstrations, shouting that he would "kill that damned peasant"?
The answer was obvious.
Back then, what had truly ignited his fury must have been this same sense of humiliation and vexation.
From Li Shimin's perspective, if you wanted to talk about Zhang Liang, then talk about Zhang Liang.
Why take such a sharp turn and drag him into it?
Because of this, Li Shimin turned his head and glanced at Wei Zheng.
Wei Zheng had spent half a year in the northern regions handling affairs. The journey had been arduous, so upon returning he had taken a full month to rest. At this moment, he was still somewhat out of the loop, quietly pulling Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui aside to ask what was going on.
Unfortunately for him, Fang and Du were bent over the light screen, copying furiously, as if their hands were glued in place.
Still…
Li Shimin felt that he probably wouldn't truly lose his temper at Wei Zheng anymore.
Wei Zheng did, after all, have good reason to call Wang Yifang "upright." His remonstrations struck the heart of the matter without being grating; the distinction between ruler and minister was always clear.
Completely unlike these people of later generations.
Just listening to their wording, Li Shimin could practically smell the instigating tone between the lines.
But… there was nothing to be done.
Wei Zheng was someone he could reach.
Later generations were not.
Wei Zheng, though stubborn, was still a Tang minister. He still sought something—just not petty gain or base profit.
Later generations, on the other hand, sought nothing at all.
If they were pleased, they praised.
If displeased, they mocked.
And if the light screen were to vanish suddenly, the one left panicking would be Li Shimin himself.
Thus, amid Liu Rengui's confusion and Wei Zheng's puzzlement, the entire Ganlu Hall fell into an awkward silence.
Out of the corners of the ministers' eyes, Li Shimin paced back and forth beside the imperial couch—two steps, then another—
Before suddenly snapping out a kick and sending a nearby screen crashing to the floor.
Only after venting a bit of his pent-up irritation did Li Shimin return to his seat, face cold and expression stiff.
Sun Simiao, utterly unafraid, spoke calmly:
"If Your Majesty is angry, it would be better to curse it out."
"Suppressing anger only harms the body."
Li Shimin ground his teeth:
"I! Am! Not! Angry!"
Sun Simiao nodded perfunctorily. Using the small table by the couch, he pulled out a charcoal pencil and swiftly wrote out a prescription.
"Decoct in warm water. One dose morning and evening. Three days to disperse pent-up anger."
Only then did he leisurely sit down.
The prescription was immediately crumpled into a ball in Li Shimin's hand, clearly about to be thrown away.
But after a pause, he unfolded it again, neatly folded it, and tucked it into his sleeve—snorting heavily all the while.
Seeing that His Majesty had more or less settled down, the others finally dared to speak.
Li Shiji could barely restrain himself as he shook his head and sighed to Su Dingfang:
"Zhang Liang and I were once colleagues. In the beginning, he even followed me in pledging allegiance to His Majesty."
"Only after many twists and turns did he earn even modest merit."
Su Dingfang felt a trace of envy.
Strictly speaking, the greatest difference between himself and Li Shiji lay precisely here.
Li Shiji had risen to fame at Wagang before submitting to the Emperor.
If not for the light screen's revelations, Su Dingfang would probably still be loitering around Kuangdao Prefecture, watching others compete in tug-of-war.
Though he was eventually reused during Gaozong's reign, the light screen had made it very clear—
Li Shiji would rise to the position of chancellor and later earn the great merit of destroying Goguryeo.
By comparison, Su Dingfang's resolve hardened.
I will be a great general of the Zhenguan era.
What does mere posthumous fame matter?
One day, I'll make Li Shiji serve as my deputy—that would be true fulfillment!
Li Shiji, unaware of the ambitions churning in Su Dingfang's heart, continued his lament:
"When I next see Zhang Liang, I must admonish him in person."
"A dignified commandery duke, capable of guarding a region—yet unable to control his own house."
"To become a joke passed down to later generations… truly shameful."
From the imperial couch came a loud "Hmph!"
Li Shiji wanted to explain that he hadn't meant it that way—but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that any explanation would only make things worse.
So he lowered his head and shut his mouth.
Su Dingfang chuckled softly and shook his head.
Watching the light screen, he couldn't help feeling that every person's fate truly was different.
Wang Yifang, guided by his mother's teachings, upheld justice, spoke frankly, taught and nurtured others. Though his career was rocky, his name endured in history.
Zhang Liang, meanwhile—his wife licentious, obsessed with witchcraft, deluded by prophecies—met death and extermination of his clan, becoming a laughingstock for all ages.
It seemed that a man's achievements could not rely solely on personal effort.
Su Dingfang then glanced curiously at Liu Rengui.
Both were late bloomers.
Yet Su Dingfang had fought from Liaodong all the way to Central Asia, enduring countless campaigns to earn his later reputation.
This one, however, seemed to need only… a single battle?
…
Watching the later generations' rhetorical question on the screen, Pang Tong shook his head with a sigh.
"I've discovered that this Li Shimin still has considerable room for improvement."
Liu Bei looked intrigued.
"What makes you say that, Shiyuan?"
Pang Tong spoke slowly, voicing a hypothesis:
"If Yide were to serve as a remonstrance official in the Tang dynasty…"
Liu Bei pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
"Shiyuan, you forget—Li Shimin, like Cao Cao, suffers from chronic headaches."
The subject of their discussion, Zhang Fei, was immediately displeased:
"If that Tang emperor can say it, why can't I?"
Then, losing interest, Zhang Fei waved a hand dismissively.
"But honestly, what a mess this Tang dynasty is."
"A son marrying his father's concubine. A father taking his son's wife."
"Now there's even a case of a wife carrying on with an adopted son."
"Everything else about Tang is fine—but these relationships are too damn complicated. It scares me."
"Next thing you know, it'll be mother and daughter serving one man."
Liu Bei hesitated.
"That… shouldn't happen, right?"
Yet deep down, a vague thought surfaced in his mind.
That old scoundrel Cao, who once aspired to be General Who Conquers the West, might actually have been very well suited to being born in the Tang dynasty.
[Lightscreen]
[Returning to Liu Rengui.
When Liu Rengui was demoted to Qingzhou, the Tang dynasty's war in Liaodong was at its height.
Facing Goguryeo, Tang spared no effort.
From the Heavenly Strategist Emperor's personal campaigns, to Gaozong's early strategy of fortified defenses and relentless harassment, Tang continuously sought to weaken Goguryeo's strength.
At the same time, adhering to the principle of "ally with the distant, strike the nearby," Tang cultivated friendly relations with Silla and Baekje on the Liaodong Peninsula, agreeing to jointly attack Goguryeo.
However, the Korean Peninsula stood isolated overseas.
A small landmass, crowded with three states—while to the west loomed the watchful Tang, and to the east lurked Wa, ever eager for a landing point.
Under such a complex situation, the peninsula's fragile balance inevitably collapsed.
Goguryeo secretly allied with Baekje's king, Buyeo Uija, using territory as bait, intending to destroy Silla first and divide the spoils.
Knowing it could not resist, Silla immediately sent envoys to Tang:
"Dad! Someone's hitting me!"
And Gaozong responded by opening with an ultimate move—
Su Dingfang personally went to war!]