In Ganlu Hall, a map of the Korean Peninsula was rolled out across the table.
Using maps brought back from "later generations," Li Shimin had personally redrawn several localized military charts. The one before them now was a Liaodong map—modern cartographic standards as the base, current prefectures layered on top, and the power boundaries of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla marked out cleanly.
Li Jing studied it for a moment, then picked up a charcoal pencil and added the Tang army's advance routes with a few swift strokes.
Everyone had gradually grown used to this future-style military mapping. One arrow—direction of advance. Clear. Brutally efficient.
Li Shimin looked it over and gave a fair assessment.
"If Baekje weren't in revolt… multiple fronts like this might barely work."
Li Jing nodded. He privately felt the mobilization was excessive, but if the goal was to end the war decisively in one blow, it wasn't unreasonable.
He added several horizontal lines across Baekje's territory—except for Sabi City, which he deliberately left untouched.
Just like that, the entire peninsula's situation became painfully obvious.
As an afterthought, Li Jing marked a westward arrow from the direction of Wa (Japan).
Li Shimin sighed.
"The tripod balance has collapsed. It's already this dangerous."
Later historians would call the peninsula's situation a "fragile equilibrium." Li Shimin now felt that term was almost charitable.
Based on current intelligence, Goguryeo was powerful—but not powerful enough to swallow both Baekje and Silla outright.
Baekje's founder had fled from Goguryeo, making it—barely—a Han-affiliated state. Silla, on the other hand, was founded by native peninsula tribes.
So Baekje and Silla only pretended to be allies. And now it turned out Baekje had been secretly colluding with Wa. As for Silla? Probably no cleaner.
Li Shimin frowned, seized by a rare urge to flip the table.
"A scrap of land, yet crawling with demons and monsters!"
Li Jing, unfazed, continued drawing. After thinking for a moment, he pulled an arrow westward from the Liaodong front.
"This is when Xue Rengui fired his three arrows that pacified Tianshan."
"He wasn't alone—Xiao Siye advanced with him, as Su Lie's deputy."
"So one force must've been redeployed north from Liaodong to suppress rebellion."
With a few more strokes, the entire northeastern situation of the Tang Empire lay exposed.
Li Shimin sighed again.
"If only Baekje—no, if only the Ungjin Commandery were stable…"
He didn't finish the sentence. No one needed him to.
If Ungjin were secure inside and out, it could reinforce the Goguryeo front to the north, chop off Wa's reaching claws to the east, and pin Silla in place. The peninsula might still be salvageable.
But now…
"That Wa empress," Li Shimin said coldly, slamming the table. "Her ambition is written all over her face."
"In my lifetime, I will drag her into this hall and make her explain—personally—her desire to invade China."
Ambition wasn't the problem. He liked crushing ambition.
More importantly… a rare foreign empress.
Li Shimin's interest in Wa rose another notch.
[Lightscreen]
[An imperial edict went out. Liu Rengui—previously a commoner—was reinstated.
Along with the edict came a private order from Li Yifu, commanding Liu Renyuan, the garrison commander of Sabi City, to find an excuse and execute Liu Rengui under military law.
It had to be said—Li Yifu's obsession with Liu Rengui was truly devoted. Wherever Liu Rengui went, Li Yifu followed like a shadow.
Liu Rengui. Liu Renyuan. They sounded like brothers.
They weren't related in the slightest.
Liu Renyuan's ancestor was Liu Yuan—the founder of Former Zhao during the Wei–Jin period. Also called Han-Zhao. After all, Xiongnu Liu was still Liu, and Xiongnu Han was still Han. Perfectly logical.
Faced with the prime minister's long-distance assassination request, Liu Renyuan chose the simplest response.
He ignored it.
The Ungjin Commandery was about to become a hollow shell, and now they wanted to start infighting? Could they show even a shred of backbone?
Liu Renyuan had once served as Li Shimin's personal guard. Records said he once fought a ferocious beast barehanded to protect the emperor—and lived. Upright by nature, he lacked the political power to confront Li Yifu openly, but he had zero interest in being Li Yifu's dog.
So Liu Rengui lived.
Meanwhile, Silla's attitude grew… complicated.
When Goguryeo and Baekje were beating them senseless, Silla clung to Tang like a drowning man hugging driftwood. But once Tang troops arrived and stabilized the peninsula, Silla suddenly grew distant from their "Great Tang Father."
When Tang forces fought the Baekje restoration army to the death, Silla withdrew first and watched from the sidelines.
When Li Zhi demanded reinforcements, Silla sent a few hundred men as a token gesture.
When Su Dingfang ordered a joint assault on Goguryeo, Silla did send troops—who fled every battle, then returned asking Tang for rewards and supplies.
Su Dingfang nearly lost his temper. Progress on the southern front crawled.
Elsewhere, another campaign advanced in parallel.
Xue Rengui's three arrows were indeed magnificent—but his superior, Zheng Rentai, advanced recklessly. Over ten thousand Tang elite cavalry were buried alive in a blizzard, creating a disaster so absurd it became a national joke.
The scattered Tiele Nine Tribes began reuniting. Li Zhi urgently dispatched Qibi Heli—himself of Tiele origin—to suppress them.
Qibi Heli was the northern commander against Goguryeo and had already fought his way to Pyongyang's gates. One edict later, he withdrew.
Goguryeo breathed again.
The northern front collapsed. Yeon Gaesomun—who in later Korean dramas would spend every episode shooting arrows into Li Shimin's eyes—seized the chance. With superior numbers, he encircled Tang forces.
Pang Xiaotai, marching commander of Okjeo Circuit, fought to the death with five thousand Bai troops and thirteen of his own sons.
They all fell.
North: broken. South: stalled.
Silla: scheming.
Wa: watching hungrily.
Baekje restoration forces: still causing trouble.
The peninsula was a complete mess—worse than Jinbei.
At the war's outset, Emperor Gaozong had been full of ambition. Now, this rotting situation drained him utterly. Add in a heaven-sent blizzard, and withdrawal felt… reasonable.
He even decided Baekje wasn't worth holding. Liu Rengui was ordered not to defend it, but to retreat into Silla and discuss withdrawal plans with the Silla king.
Liu Rengui disagreed.
Before Tang arrived, the peninsula was a three-way standoff. If Tang left and Baekje revived, it would still be a three-way standoff.
So what was the point of coming?
He held his ground—and sent a long memorial that made Gaozong straighten his spine again.
His suggestion was simple: hold position and wait for change. And he trusted the Silla king about as far as he could throw him.
Silla's "let the clam and snipe fight so the fisherman profits" scheme was so blatant it was practically slapping him in the face.
His judgment was quickly proven right.
Wa sent troops.]
Chengdu
Zhuge Kongming sighed.
"A thousand-foot dike collapses from an ant's hole.
A hundred-foot hall burns from a spark in a crack."
"Gaozong's stinginess with military rewards rotted Baekje from within."
"Zheng Rentai's greed let Goguryeo recover."
He shook his head, wondering if Su Dingfang ever regretted allowing his troops to loot Sabi City.
Excuses were endless—but conquering Baekje was meant to expand the realm, to make its people Han subjects. If their hearts weren't won, what expansion was this?
At that thought, Kongming glanced at Zhang Fei with faint approval.
After reaching Yong and Liang, Yi De had swiftly noticed Han–Qiang tensions. He truly had changed.
"By this count—" Zhang Fei suddenly slapped Pang Tong's shoulder, eyes wide. "Goguryeo defeated three emperors?!"
Pang Tong rubbed his shoulder and sighed.
"We thought one campaign would settle ten years of work."
"Instead—no reconnaissance before battle, endless chaos during it, and pulling generals away mid-fight."
"Yi De said Li Zhi's biggest flaw was occasional irrationality. Seems he wasn't wrong."
"Trying to guard both ends—and guarding neither."
Pang Tong paused, regret flickering.
"If Su Dingfang had restrained himself… if Gaozong had chosen the northern commander more carefully… perhaps…"
He imagined a Tang victory that didn't bleed manpower dry. Perhaps history itself might've shifted.
Kongming didn't agree.
What looked like coincidence was really systemic failure—lack of rewards, unworthy nobles, an emperor with shallow strategic vision.
Each problem could fill an essay. Each should warn future generations.
But as he put brush to paper, Kongming froze.
Tang hadn't learned from Han's mistakes.
He set the brush down with a sigh.
Relying on later generations to learn was unrealistic. Tang itself had proven that.
True solutions had been stated on the Light Screen many times already:
"To not advance is to retreat. This is the way of the world."
Engineering. Mathematics. Medicine. Literature.
All must advance—what later ages would simply call progress.
At this moment, Kongming felt his understanding deepen.
Nearby, Liu Bei stroked his beard, thinking about Liu Renyuan's background.
"Xiongnu Han is still Han," he murmured. No—if you honor Han, then you are Han.
"To dwell among barbarians yet revere Huaxia—this, too, is Huaxia."
Ganlu Hall
Li Shimin sighed, feeling like he was watching this war while tied hand and foot.
Attack Goguryeo right after Baekje fell? Too rash.
Four-pronged advance by land and sea? Too many troops.
Pulling commanders mid-war and getting Pang Xiaotai killed?
He wanted to dive into the Light Screen and shove his son aside.
Can you even command? Let me do it!
But then he remembered—this was his son.
And who taught him?
For the first time, Li Shimin felt this deeply:
Teaching child is hard.
Still… some things had been done right.
He glanced at Liu Rengui.
Reusing disgraced officials. Listening to remonstrance.
Thinking of Feng Changqing in Emperor Xuanzong's era, Li Shimin sighed.
Compared to that… Li Zhi wasn't doing too badly.