Military doctrine says: Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated.
Li Shimin had always believed that when it came to the words "know yourself," he had done quite well.
For example, before the founding of the Tang, during the wars to pacify the realm, many of the fierce generals under his command had advised him repeatedly not to place himself in danger. He, of course, ignored them completely.
The result was that after the wars to unify the realm were finished, six of his mounts had died one after another on the battlefield—yet he himself had never once suffered a serious injury.
Fond of taking risks, yet never meeting danger.
This was Du Ruhui's casual assessment of his command style during idle conversation in the past.
Li Shimin took great pride in this.
After all, winning once after taking a risk might be luck.
But taking risks every time and still laughing at the end could only mean one thing: the Heavenly Strategist Grand General truly understood both himself and his enemy.
The same was true in governing the state.
He could endure the humiliation at the Wei River when advancing, and when retreating he could rest the people, even swallowing locusts himself as an example to the populace.
Yet through the explanations of later generations, he had gradually come to see just how much he had failed when it came to educating his sons.
Wei Zheng hesitated, but in the end still spoke up:
"Your Majesty, when father and son come to conflict, there is always a cause.
Or perhaps the cause lies here: the father teaches the son with righteousness, yet the father himself did not come from righteousness."
Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui immediately glanced sideways, gaining a new understanding of just how hard Wei Zheng's neck truly was.
Was this really something one could say to the emperor's face?
The origin of this saying was actually quite orthodox, coming from a dialogue between Mencius and Gongsun Chou, discussing the concept of changing sons to educate them.
The word "righteousness" here should be understood as strict norms.
That is to say, if a biological father strictly educates his own son, the son will inevitably complain:
"Father, you demand this and that from me—but you yourself never set a proper example."
But spoken at this moment, the words were painfully sharp.
After all, everyone knew that the root of the Xuanwu Gate Incident could be summed up in just two words:
Crown Prince.
And what was a crown prince?
Precisely someone "produced from righteousness."
Thus this sentence was a perfect double entendre—criticizing Li Shimin for failing to set an example for the crown prince, while also subtly pointing out that Xuanwu Gate itself had set a disastrous precedent for later generations of the Li-Tang house.
When combined with Wei Zheng's background, Du Ruhui—despite his deep trust in His Majesty's magnanimity—instinctively still broke into a cold sweat for Wei Zheng's head.
As expected, Li Shimin's complexion paled by several degrees.
Unexpectedly, however, there was no surge of anger on that pale face.
In the end, Li Shimin let out a low sigh. Without looking at Wei Zheng, who was stiffening his neck, he instead turned toward the map of Tang territory beside him and said:
"To seek the welfare of all under Heaven—this is the true righteousness of a Son of Heaven."
Wei Zheng pondered for a moment, then nodded.
This allowed Du Ruhui to finally let out a breath of relief. What was more, Wei Zheng did not dwell excessively on the matter, instead continuing:
"Mencius also said: between father and son, one should not reproach goodness.
To reproach goodness leads to estrangement."
"Previously, Your Majesty showed signs of demanding perfection and reproaching goodness in your treatment of the Crown Prince."
Li Shimin sighed inwardly.
He had read this chapter of Mencius before, yet never imagined it would apply to himself so perfectly.
Mencius believed that the relationship between father and son should not be mixed with that of teacher and student. Because once one assumes the role of a teacher, one inevitably demands perfection from the student.
But in doing so, resentment arises—father grows angry, son grows resentful, hearts drift apart. In the end, the father ceases to be a father, the teacher ceases to be a teacher.
This is what is called abandoning the root to chase the branches.
After a moment of contemplation, Li Shimin spoke slowly:
"Xuancheng, stay in the palace today and dine with me."
Wei Zheng clasped his hands in salute, understanding that His Majesty likely wished to discuss the education of the crown prince further.
As for Liu Renyuan, Wei Zheng did not say much.
After all, the man had not yet entered official service, and since the emperor now knew of him, he would surely be properly employed.
Likewise, the failures of Gaozong's reign in managing the Korean Peninsula would also serve as reference for future court strategies.
All of these were matters already laid bare. Wei Zheng was tactful enough to know that further words were unnecessary.
[Lightscreen]
[However, Liu Renyuan was not the only one who performed brilliantly on the Korean Peninsula yet failed to leave a name in official history.
After Tang destroyed Goguryeo, the war did not truly end, for remnants of Goguryeo forces continued guerrilla warfare across the old territories.
And here things become interesting.
If you say Gaozong was shrewd, then with his own hand he facilitated the complete loosening of control over the Ungjin Commandery, giving Silla an opportunity.
But if you say Gaozong was foolish, then once warfare was involved he became indecisive—yet purely in terms of diplomacy, he was more than capable of arm-wrestling with the "Li Erfeng" himself.
After the defeat at Dafeichuan, while suffering headaches over Tubo, Gaozong also keenly sensed something amiss in the atmosphere on the Korean Peninsula:
Goguryeo remnants were stirring, Silla was restless—was the next step to contact Wa and jointly attack Tang forces once again?
At this time, the Tang treasury was not flush, making it difficult to support a large expeditionary campaign.
Thus Gaozong chose another path and summoned Guo Wusong, ordering him to lead a mission to Wa.
This was not Guo Wusong's first mission to Wa.
After the Battle of Baekgang, Li Zhi had already attempted to establish Tang as the "big brother" by sending Guo Wusong to Wa.
However, Wa had been utterly terrified by the battle, firmly believing Tang would soon destroy them, and thus refused to receive him.
Now, facing the possibility of renewed turmoil in Haedong, Li Zhi hardened his resolve.
Despite strained finances, he allocated two thousand men and forty-seven warships to Guo Wusong, ordering him to succeed at all costs.
This was a textbook case of writing "peaceful envoy," read as "armed intimidation."
Guo Wusong understood this well. Learning from his previous rejection, after leading his fleet to Tsushima Island, he first dispatched a small boat to notify Wa.
The content of the notice is unknown. Wa's own records state it was a "demand for court attendance," making Guo Wusong's attitude clear—and frightening Wa thoroughly.
After notifying that he was not there to fight, Guo Wusong ignored Wa's reaction entirely, forcibly sailing the fleet to the vicinity of Biji Island and knocking open Wa's national gate.
What followed was highly intriguing.
One month after Guo Wusong arrived in Wa, Emperor Tenji died.
Afterward, Guo Wusong and his party simply stayed.
They admired flowers, drank wine, and lingered until late May of the following year, when Guo Wusong accepted 1,673 bolts of shi silk, 2,852 bolts of cloth, and 666 jin of cotton—only then did the delegation finally set sail home, reluctant to leave.
Wa's own histories describe these goods as "lavish bestowals."
The shi silk was Wa's domestic silk, functioning much like Han-era currency-cloth—it could be spent directly within Wa.
For comparison, when Wa later cautiously re-entered the Korean Peninsula and attempted to curry favor with Balhae, the most generous gift amounted to only seventy bolts of shi silk.
Compared to the neatly counted 1,600-plus bolts Guo Wusong carried off, it is hard not to suspect that this was nearly the entirety of Wa's treasury.
All of the above appears in the Old and New Books of Tang.
But when combined with Wa's own historical records, the matter becomes far more interesting.]
Li Shimin's brow relaxed, and a trace of a smile returned to his face.
Wei Zheng, on the other hand, found himself uncertain.
"This conduct… seems excessively domineering."
"Beasts—what right have they to speak of domination?"
Li Shimin replied with a smiling shake of the head.
"Having studied Tang for centuries, yet not understanding loyalty and righteousness.
Having read our Huaxia classics for over a thousand years, yet not understanding ritual and propriety."
"Beasts wearing human hats—what virtue can they speak of?"
Li Shimin's words immediately drew Wei Zheng's attention, and he was just about to debate when the emperor continued calmly:
"Moreover—this Wa state later invaded Huaxia lands.
Is this how they repaid the enlightenment bestowed by Sui and Tang?"
Mention of later generations rendered Wei Zheng momentarily speechless.
If Wa were truly a vassal state, there would be room for discussion—but once their later crimes were raised, even Wei Zheng could not defend them.
Especially since the accusations came from the descendant within the light screen.
On one side: a Huaxia descendant who held nothing back and showed deep emotion toward their ancestors.
On the other: wolf-hearted ingrates who repaid Sui and Tang's grace with betrayal.
The choice was obvious.
Wei Zheng fell silent.
Yet as he watched the subsequent developments in Wa, he frowned again.
"If Guo Wusong truly acted in this manner… it is indeed inappropriate."
Wei Zheng never concealed his advocacy of the Kingly Way.
What is the Kingly Way?
Impartiality, fairness—the great and open path.
Mencius explained it best: above, officials govern with clarity; below, the people understand honor and ritual.
Its core is governing the world through benevolence and righteousness.
If Guo Wusong merely happened upon events, Wei Zheng would say nothing—but if he actively intervened, then such conduct seemed to violate benevolence.
Before Li Shimin could respond, Li Jing shook his head in opposition.
"I believe this conduct was appropriate."
"Seizing their wealth benefits Tang's people; pacifying their lands secures Tang's borders.
Both can be called benevolence toward our people."
"And furthermore—"
Li Jing's eyes narrowed slightly, sharp as a hawk's:
"The Goguryeo remnants and Silla intended to ally with Wa.
Later generations confirm this—thus it was true."
"To know and not act would be unrighteous.
Thus Tang envoys forcefully knocking on their gates, intimidating their sinister hearts and extinguishing the threat of Wa's blades—this too is benevolence."
For a time, Li Jing and Wei Zheng stood sharply opposed, neither yielding.
Li Shimin, however, thought of the brotherly alliance between Liao and Song.
Seen this way, Guo Wusong's takings could be considered war reparations, could they not?
With this thought, Li Shimin spoke leisurely:
"If Wa had not instigated matters, how could Baekje have caused so many troubles?"
"And without Baekje's troubles, perhaps Goguryeo could have been conquered years earlier."
"Years of corvée deaths, financial losses, and soldier compensation—costing over a hundred million.
This payment is not even a fraction—how can it be called unbenevolent?"
Li Jing froze for a moment, then burst into laughter, clapping his hands and loudly praising His Majesty's benevolence.
Wei Zheng frowned, feeling something was slightly off—but unable to pinpoint it.
"And besides—"
Li Shimin spread his hands calmly.
"The death of the Wa king was due to his own guilty fear before Tang's heavenly might.
What does it have to do with our envoy?"
[Lightscreen]
[According to Wa's own historical records, shortly after Guo Wusong arrived, Wa entered the Jinshin Rebellion.
The cause was simple: defeat at Baekgang damaged Emperor Tenji's authority.
His brother, Prince Ōama, gained increasing political influence and in 668 was named Crown Prince.
Soon after Guo Wusong's arrival, the gravely ill Emperor Tenji announced a new appointment:
He named his own son, Prince Ōtomo, as Chancellor—effectively prime minister.
This hollowed out the Crown Prince's power.
Still uneasy, Tenji summoned Ōama and said:
"I am about to die. I intend to pass the throne to you."
Tenji himself was a master of power struggles, having survived the revolt of Prince Koga, the Soga Ishikawamaro incident, and the Arima Prince affair.
Ōama understood immediately. He declined, recommended Prince Ōtomo instead, and even became a monk to avoid suspicion.
After Tenji's death, Ōtomo did not intend to spare his uncle.
The conflict escalated into open warfare.
In the end, the out-of-power Ōama defeated Ōtomo, who commanded the government army, and forced his own nephew to commit suicide.
After Ōama's victory, Guo Wusong departed—his ships heavy with wealth.
Wa had many rebellions, but few where rebels overturned the central army. Guo Wusong's role remains unknown.
Ōama ascended the throne as Emperor Tenmu and once again pushed Tang-style reforms, fully modeling Wa after Tang.
He was also the first Wa emperor to adopt era names and formally replaced Wa's calendar with Tang's Yuanjia calendar.
His end was also Tang-flavored: after his death, his niece and empress seized power, becoming Empress Jitō.
She ruled seven years, abdicated to her grandson, became the first retired emperor, and ruled jointly.
Brotherly strife, empress enthronement, dual rule, abdication—
it is impossible not to think of Zhao Kuangyin and Zhao Guangyi, or Wu Zetian and Li Zhi.
Unfortunately, because Central Plains dynasties lacked maritime interest, Guo Wusong—who may have altered Wa's history—does not appear in Tang records, only in Wa's.
Some believe he was a Tang general from Ungjin who acted on impulse.
Yet Wa's records state he carried an imperial letter, beginning with:
"The Great Tang Emperor respectfully inquires of the King of Wa…"
Wa later considered this humiliating—they had already styled themselves "Heavenly Emperor," yet Li Zhi demoted them to "King."
Thus Guo Wusong was clearly an official envoy, and his conduct bore the unmistakable imprint of a Strong Tang.]
In the imperial garden of Bianliang, Zhao Guangyi stared at the light screen, sweat prickling the back of his neck.
Without looking up, he knew his elder brother's gaze was sharp upon him.
And thinking of the jade axe at his brother's waist, Zhao Guangyi's mind fell into chaos.