Chapter 15

The next day, before dawn, the old, broken gate of Wang Jin's house was about to be trampled by the people coming to offer congratulations and gifts.

The emperor's reward, personally delivered by a eunuch from the Palace Service, filled ten large chests. The gleaming gold and flowing Shu brocade dazzled the neighbors who came to look, making them unable to keep their eyes open.

Next, an official from the Jingzhao Prefecture arrived, respectfully presenting a property deed. It was an emperor-bestowed residence located in the most prosperous Yongxing Ward of Luoyang—a grand three-courtyard mansion with carved beams and painted pillars, extraordinarily imposing.

The congratulatory gift from Prince Liaoyang Li Duozuo also arrived, sent by his trusted steward: two fine horses, ten servants, and a generous sum of gift money.

Even his former colleagues from the Armory Bureau each brought gifts, visiting with fawning smiles. The goat-bearded Zhao De, who once mocked Wang Jin in every way, now fawned like a lapdog, repeatedly calling him 'Attendant Wang' in an overly affectionate tone.

Wang Jin's wife, Lady Li, had never seen such a spectacle; she was so excited she didn't know what to do with her hands and feet, merely following behind her husband, constantly returning the greetings.

Wang Xiu controlled Wang Jin, handling everything flawlessly. On his face hung a perfectly modest smile—neither overly elated nor excessively distant. This composure made the visitors feel he was unfathomably deep.

After a round of seeing guests off, it was not until mid-morning that the courtyard finally grew quiet.

Wang Xiu had no time to enjoy this sudden wealth; he knew his true test had only just begun.

He changed into the brand-new uniform of a Hanlin Attendant—a blue round-collared robe and a Jin Xian cap—his bearing instantly transforming from a low-ranking military officer into an elegant civil official.

"Husband, are you really going to the Eastern Palace?" Lady Li straightened his robes, her eyes full of worry and reluctance.

She was just an ordinary woman, unfamiliar with court affairs, but she also knew that the Eastern Palace, beside the crown prince, was the most honored—and most perilous—place in the world.

Wang Jin (Wang Xiu) took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile: "Don't worry, I'm just going on duty. Manage the new house at home and wait for my return."

Having comforted his wife, Wang Jin boarded the carriage sent by Li Duozuo, escorted by two new servants, and headed for the Eastern Palace.

The Eastern Palace, the residence and office complex of the crown prince, lies on the east side of Huangcheng, vast in scale, magnificent in appearance, essentially a separate little imperial city.

The guards at the gate checked Wang Jin's waist plaque and credentials, then respectfully let him pass and assigned a little yellow gate attendant to guide him inside.

Passing through layer after layer of palace gates and walking down a jade-paved corridor, Wang Xiu felt as if he had entered a golden cage. Everyone here wore a mask of respectful detachment, even their footsteps betraying a tense, restrained caution.

The little yellow gate attendant led him to the front of a hall called the Chongwen Pavilion.

"Attendant Wang, the Crown Prince is currently reading inside; please wait a moment while I go in to announce you."

"Thank you for the trouble," Wang Jin said, clasping his hands politely.

He stood outside the hall, observing the building. The Chongwen Pavilion is the Eastern Palace's library and study, housing tens of thousands of scrolls. At that moment he could faintly hear a young, impatient voice coming from within.

"What good is reading the Book of Rites? Such and such, endless chatter! If I wanted to know how to govern the state, I'd be better off spending three days in a military camp than reading ten years of dead books!"

Next came an aged, helpless voice trying to soothe him.

"Your Highness, the sages say, 'Cultivate oneself, regulate the family, govern the state, bring peace to the world.' The Book of Rites is a Confucian classic; it speaks of the fundamental ethics and morals, the very foundation of a ruler. You……"

"Enough, enough! Master Li, I've grown calluses on my ears from hearing this spiel!"

Before the words finished, a sharp 'slap' sounded, as if a book had been violently slammed onto the desk.

Wang Jin's (Wang Xiu's) brow furrowed slightly.

It seems Emperor Li Sheng's remark that the crown prince is 'hot-tempered' was far too courteous.

This isn't just hot-tempered; it's outright violent and ignorant.

Just then, the little yellow gate attendant who had gone in to announce him came running out, face pale with fright, bowing to Wang Jin: "Attendant Wang, the Crown Prince… the Crown Prince summons you inside."

Wang Jin adjusted his robes, took a deep breath, and stepped into the Chongwen Pavilion.

Inside the hall, bright light fell upon rows of tall bookshelves packed with various scrolls. The air was filled with a faint scent of ink and old bamboo slips.

A young man dressed in apricot-yellow crown prince robes, his visage heroic yet his brows furrowed with hostility, stood irritably before the desk, several torn bamboo scrolls scattered at his feet.

Opposite him, an old minister with white beard and hair bent over sorrowfully, picking up the bamboo slips one by one.

Without a doubt, that young man was the current crown prince, Li Chongjun.

And that old minister was surely one of the crown prince's teachers.

"Your subject, Hanlin Attendant Wang Jin, pays respects to the Crown Prince." Wang Jin stepped forward, bowed at a ninety-degree angle, and performed the standard great salute.

Li Chongjun glanced at him askance, sizing him up from head to toe, his tone utterly devoid of concealed contempt.

"Are you Wang Jin? The one who, relying on a single memorial, leapt from a lowly clerk in the Armory Bureau straight to the position of Hanlin Attendant?"

He put the question in an extremely rude manner.

Wang Xiu's heart sank. It seemed the Crown Prince harbored hostility and distrust toward this person sent by his 'father emperor'.

"I dare not accept credit; it is all due to the emperor's grace." Wang Jin lowered his head even further.

"Hmph, father emperor…" Li Chongjun gave a cold laugh filled with complex emotions, "The father emperor looks upon you differently. He sent you to assist me, fearing I am ignorant and unlearned, lest I bring him shame."

He stepped closer to Wang Jin, looking down at him with eyes full of provocation.

"I ask you, regarding your memorial on the Yaozhou barbarians, I have also read it. It is logical and thorough, but it's mere armchair strategy! You, a civilian scholar who has never set foot on a battlefield, on what basis do you claim Yaozhou will surely rebel? And on what basis do you believe your combined suppression-and-pacification strategy will definitely work?"

"What if those barbarians, awed by might but unmoved by virtue, reject your approach entirely and instead seize the chance to grow stronger—can you bear that responsibility?"

This question was nearly identical to the one Emperor Li Sheng had asked him the previous night.

But the asker was different, the tone different, and the sense of pressure entirely otherwise.

Li Sheng is the emperor; his question is a test.

But Li Chongjun is the crown prince; his question is meant to make things difficult, to pick a fight!

Wang Jin (Wang Xiu) knew this was the first hurdle upon entering the Eastern Palace; if he answered poorly, his future days would likely be fraught with difficulty.

He did not answer immediately, but instead respectfully bowed to the white-haired old minister and asked, "May I dare ask who you are, sir?"

The old man stared for a moment, then replied, "I am Li Zhao, the Crown Prince's Junior Tutor."

Li Zhao!

Wang Xiu's heart jolted again. This was none other than the famed Tang Dynasty literary figure Li Zhao, one of the 'Four Friends of Literature' and a renowned statesman! He never expected to meet him here.

Wang Jin's (Wang Xiu's) face immediately showed utter reverence.

"So you are Minister Li! I am remiss in my respects!" He bowed deeply again, "Your literary works are peerless, your virtue and prestige towering—you are the model for us scholars."

That piece of flattery was laid on just right.

Li Zhao, long accustomed to high office, had heard every sort of flattery, but Wang Jin's clear, sincere gaze stirred a faint fondness in him. He glanced at the pushy crown prince, then at the unassuming yet unpretentious Wang Jin, and couldn't help sighing inwardly.

Seeing Wang Jin ignore him and instead try to ingratiate himself with Li Zhao, Li Chongjun's face darkened even further.

Wang Jin! I'm asking you a question!

Wang Jin turned to face the Crown Prince again, but rather than answering directly, he threw back a question:

May I ask, Your Highness, even a lion uses its full strength when hunting a rabbit. If Your Highness were a general facing a pack of hungry wolves, would you choose to charge straight in and fight to the death, ending in mutual loss? Or would you first lure them with food, wait for them to relax their guard, then strike with thunderous tactics, divide and conquer, destroying them one by one?

His analogy was simple and clear, yet it pointed directly to the crux.

Li Chongjun was stunned, his first impulse to shout, "Of course I'd charge in and kill them all!" But as the words reached his lips, he felt that would make him seem overly rash.

He hesitated.

Wang Jin (Wang Xiu) gave him no time to think and continued speaking:

The Yaozhou barbarians are to our Tang Dynasty merely a skin rash, not a mortal danger. To deploy a hundred‑thousand strong army and expend a million in grain and treasure for such a petty ailment would be a pyrrhic victory even if we won; with an empty treasury and weakened borders, would we not be inviting the northern Turks and the western Tubo to laugh at us?

Therefore, my strategy: 'pacify' is the means, 'suppress' the goal! Pacify means to settle it in one battle, to win the greatest victory at the smallest cost! It is to let all under heaven see that our Tang Dynasty possesses not only thunderous might but also a bodhisattva's heart.

This is not empty talk on paper; it is a yang stratagem! It is the kingly way!

His words rang out loud and clear, forceful and resonant.

In the entire Chongwen Hall, even a dropped pin could be heard.

Li Jiao stared at Wang Jin, his cloudy old eyes suddenly flashing with a sharp light.

What a yang stratagem! What a kingly way!

This young man's insight is deep and his scope vast, far beyond his imagination!

Li Chongjun was also stunned. Though he was quick‑tempered, he was not stupid. He understood Wang Jin's words and had to admit they made perfect sense.

The hostility on his face faded, but was replaced by a more complex emotion.

"That sounds nice," he said, curling his lip, trying to save face, "but it's just empty talk from someone who's never been on the battlefield."

He turned and walked back to his seat, his voice tinged with irritation.

"What annoys me now is not that trifling Yaozhou matter. It's the Wei clan and that despicable Anle! They constantly poison the father emperor's ear, saying I am not his trueborn son and plotting rebellion! Moreover, many court officials are Wu Sansi's partisans, everywhere opposing me! As this crown prince, I feel utterly stifled!"

He slammed his fist on the table, his eyes filled with repressed anger and anxiety.

"Wang Jin, you claim to have the talent to govern the world—so tell me, how should I break this predicament I now face?!"