Chapter 69: Li Longji's Attempt to Win Over

Xingqing Palace.

This place was once Li Longji's favorite palace, where he and Yang Guifei enjoyed moonlit evenings, drinking and making merry. Every pavilion, terrace, tower, and hall bore witness to the most flourishing years of the High Tang.

But now, it feels especially desolate.

The palace walls remain, the scenery remains, but the master living here has gone from the exalted Son of Heaven to a powerless retired emperor.

The palace eunuchs and maids have also been mostly replaced by the new emperor Li Heng; those who remain are all cautious, afraid to say more than a word.

The whole Xingqing Palace is permeated with a sense of decline and melancholy, like the sun setting behind the western hills.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) followed the old eunuch down the long palace corridor, feeling as if a huge stone weighed on his heart.

Seeing the new emperor Li Heng, he feared the other's suspicion and political tricks; but seeing the retired emperor Li Longji, he feared the other's 'emotional card'.

One is a cold political test, the other a tangled web of personal feelings. For Wang Xiu, the latter is even harder to handle than the former.

In a small hall of Xingqing Palace, he saw Li Longji.

This man, once vigorous and the founder of the Kaiyuan Prosperous Era, has now become a frail old man in his twilight years.

He wore a loose Daoist robe, his hair was white, his frame thin, his face covered with deep wrinkles and age spots.

Only in those eyes, which once looked down on the world, did a flicker of unwillingness and loneliness occasionally appear.

"Subject, Wang Hui, pays respects to the Retired Emperor." Wang Hui knelt and performed the salute.

"Rise, Hui'er." Li Longji's voice was hoarse and aged. He did not refer to himself as 'I' (the imperial 'Zhen'), and he addressed Wang Hui with the affectionate 'Hui'er'.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu)'s heart skipped a beat; he silently thought, 'Oh no.' This old man, right off the bat, is playing the emotional card!

"Please be seated." Li Longji waved his hand.

After Wang Hui thanked him, he carefully sat on the embroidered cushion beside him.

"I heard you went to see the emperor today?" Li Longji asked seemingly casually.

"Yes, Your Majesty summoned me and inquired about some matters concerning my son Wang Ce in the army." Wang Hui dared not conceal anything and answered truthfully.

"Hmph, he seems quite concerned about your son." Li Longji gave a cold snort, his tone hinting at a subtle bitterness and jealousy.

"Back then, on the road to Shu, if it weren't for you and Chen Xuanli and the others guarding my carriage, this old bone of mine would have died halfway. This favor— I suspect Li Heng has long forgotten it."

Wang Xiu's heart leapt to his throat. How should he respond to this?

To say 'yes' would be to echo the Retired Emperor and criticize the current sovereign; if it got out, it would be a death sentence.

To say 'no' would be to deny the Retired Emperor, to rebuff his face; equally, it would be courting death.

This is practically a death sentence!

Wang Xiu's mind raced, yet his face showed just the right amount of panic and sorrow.

"Retired Emperor, you overpraise him! The emperor is a benevolent and filial ruler, burdened with myriad affairs, naturally he keeps the Retired Emperor in his heart.

I am merely a lowly official; to be able to accompany and escort the Retired Emperor is my duty, indeed my blessing—I dare not speak of gratitude.

He skillfully sidestepped the trap in Li Longji's words, praising the new emperor while expressing his 'loyalty' to the former lord, placing himself in the position of a pure, politically naive 'loyal subject'.

Li Longji glanced at him, seeming neither to approve nor disapprove of the answer. He sighed, his tone growing even more forlorn.

"Forget it, let's not talk about him. Hui'er, lately I keep dreaming of the days in Shu. Though we were displaced, people's hearts were united then. Not like now—this palace is cold and empty, with no one who can speak sincerely.

He looked at Wang Hui, his eyes full of expectation and the intent to win him over.

"Your father Wang Jin was a man of great talent. His 'Annan Strategy' back then, upon reflection, remains extraordinarily brilliant. It's a pity he died too early; had he assisted me, how could we have come to this calamity?

"You, his son, have also inherited his talent. I am old and useless, but the realm of the Tang Dynasty is ultimately my Li family's. I hope you can, like your father, serve the emperor well, so that he does not follow my old path.

These words were spoken sincerely and from the heart, as if he were not an unwilling retired emperor but a truly concerned old father worrying for the state and his son's future.

But Wang Hui, within it, heard another layer of meaning.

"To assist the emperor, do not let him follow my old path'— on the surface it shows concern, but in reality it hints that Li Heng's rule is problematic and needs someone like Wang Hui, an 'old minister,' to 'correct' it. This is setting a trap, hoping to bind him to his side and make him a spokesman in court.

Wang Hui's heart had sunk to the bottom. He finally understood why, in history, so many officials caught between new and old rulers met bad ends. It's not a matter of picking sides; merely existing is itself a mistake.

He could no longer stay in Chang'an—not even for an extra day.

"Your teachings, Retired Emperor, I will never forget, subject." Wang Hui knelt again, his voice choking, "I am shallow in talent and learning, I dare not compare to my father. I only wish to fulfill my duties, to relieve the emperor's worries, to repay the heavenly grace of the Retired Emperor and the emperor. I… I have no other thoughts.

Li Longji looked at his pathetic, useless appearance; the hint of expectation in his eyes gradually turned to disappointment. He perhaps never imagined that a hero like Wang Jin could produce such a worthless son.

"Enough, enough. You may withdraw. I am tired." Li Longji waved his hand listlessly.

"Subject, I take my leave."

Wang Hui, as if granted a pardon, bowed his body and stepped out of the hall step by step. Only after leaving the gate of Xingqing Palace did he dare straighten his back and exhale a long breath of foul air.

Today's experience was more exhausting than fighting a battle.

Walking home, he felt utterly drained. He looked up at the sky—Chang'an's heavens were gray and murky, pressing down so hard he could barely breathe.

Just as he turned a street corner, out of the corner of his eye he caught a familiar figure flashing past on the second floor of a nearby teahouse.

It was Guo Ziyi.

Guo Ziyi also saw him, merely giving a slight nod before looking away.

But Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) read a complex meaning from that glance—sympathy? A reminder? Or… a warning?

Wang Xiu's heart rose again. He knew that having seen both the new emperor and the Retired Emperor today, this matter would likely soon spread throughout Chang'an's political circles; no official in the court is foolish—they all have their own information channels.

He quickened his steps; all he wanted now was to rush home, for home was the only place where he felt safe, and he must accelerate his plans.

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