Chapter 6: History Takes a Branching Path

East Road Academy, Grain Storage Hall.

The books sent by Tan Chun suited Jia Cong perfectly; he devoured them eagerly, striving to understand this world as quickly as possible.

Zhi Shao smiled as she neatly stacked the two stacks of Snow Wave paper on the upper shelf of the green bamboo bookcase, making it convenient for Jia Cong to use.

This green bamboo bookcase had been quietly salvaged by Zhi Shao from a nearby storage room filled with discarded household items.

Though Zhi Shao knew nothing of calligraphy, seeing the pure, luminous Snow Wave paper and comparing it to the coarse raw paper Jia Cong had used before, she knew it was something extraordinary.

“I’ve long heard that Third Miss is straightforward and generous, but I never expected her to be so kind—sending so many books and paper to Third Young Master. It’s good that someone in this household still cares for him.”

Jia Cong turned to look at Zhi Shao and saw her jet-black hair tied into twin buns, adorned with a single pomegranate-bead dangling hairpin of silver.

A cold breeze slipped through the window crack, stirring the strands at her temples; a few hairs clung to her delicate, upturned nose, giving her a playful, youthful charm.

Her light green silk padded jacket was thin, and the outer blue satin-lined vest had been washed until faded, yet it did not make her look poor—only accentuated her slender, graceful figure.

Jia Cong said, “Third sister stands out among her sisters; she often laments being a woman—if she had been born a man, she would have been one who could uphold the family.”

His ministers and generals had all been slaughtered, and his descendants nearly wiped out.

Over these years, Zhi Shao has followed him through hardship and toil; if he meets no good end, neither will she. Thinking of this, Jia Cong felt added pressure.

…

He steadied his mind and refocused his attention on the book in his hands.

Jia She has cut off his access to books; he is trapped in the East Road Academy, enduring humiliation—and when that day comes, even if he escapes death, will he not end up a beggar despised by all?

In truth, this outcome is not surprising: Li Jiancheng was the imperial heir by imperial decree, the eldest legitimate son, the universally recognized crown prince under ancestral law—his claim was beyond dispute.

In the original timeline, the mighty Li Shimin became the loser, imprisoned for life in a palace outside Taiyuan.

Here, history still includes the Tang and Song dynasties, but key turning points diverge sharply from the original timeline.

Like Bao Yu or Jia Huan—who have personal maids to wash their clothes? They rely on the coarse maids outside the courtyard. Not like him, where one maid serves eight roles.

Jia Cong watched her back and sighed; Zhi Shao’s life with him has never been easy.

In this timeline, the shocking Xuanwu Gate Incident ended with Li Jiancheng as the victor.

How unjust—something must be planned early.

Jia Cong was moved by her words; it felt good to be cared for in someone’s heart. He wanted to say something, but Zhi Shao refilled his tea, gathered a few garments, and went out to wash them.

Soon, the desk was piled with five or six open books; he took notes on paper, sometimes sketching a few lines. The more he read, the more stunned he became.

“When the Three Springs depart, all flowers fade; the earth lies vast and white, clean and bare.” Based on what Jia Cong has seen and heard these past days, the collapse of this great house will come no later than seven or eight years.

Though he had prepared himself, the deviation and brutality of this history far exceeded his expectations.

Zhi Shao’s eyes sparkled: “I don’t care whether Third Miss is outstanding—I only love that she keeps Third Young Master in her thoughts. If more people here were like her, your life would be easier.”

Anecdotes about his jealousy of his brother’s towering achievements could never shake Li Jiancheng’s position as crown prince; Li Shimin’s eventual victory at Xuanwu Gate was largely a matter of chance.

The mystery has always been debated, but history is written by the victors—the truth is long lost.

In this timeline, the original victor became a treacherous, evil figure, while the loser became a wise monarch who founded a golden age—the logic of history here is not surprising.

Li Jiancheng ascended the throne as Emperor Taizong, ruled for twenty-one years, and forged a prosperous era rivaling the Zhenguan golden age.

The origin of history took a branching path; countless brilliant scholars and generals once famed in the annals are now forgotten, or utterly erased by time’s dust.

Perhaps the Zhao Song clan’s destiny was too strong to be swept away by history’s chaos—Zhao Kuangyin still donned the yellow robe at Chenqiao Post.

But history veered again in the following decades: Emperor Taizu of Song, wary of potential threats, kept his brothers confined to the post of Prefect of Kaifeng, where they withered and died in gloom.

Thus, countless scholars and generals from the original timeline were mercilessly erased by this historical branch—some vanished into obscurity, only one in ten preserved any trace of their glory.

The Song dynasty endured until the Jingkang era, when the Jin army marched south, captured the two emperors, and killed Prince Kang Zhao Gou in Xiangzhou; the Zhao Song exhausted its last breath of fate.

Countless loyalist armies and righteous men crossed the river southward, facing the Jin across the water; at the final moment of extinction, the Han men’s courage surged—loyal, fierce, blazing like fire.

They finally outlasted the Jin—then the Mongol cavalry swept across the land; the banks of the Yangtze became a blood-soaked battlefield. In cycles of conquest and recovery lasting one hundred and fifty years, this era is known as the Southern Crossing and National Defense.

Warlords, while fighting the barbarians, never ceased vying for supreme command of the Southern Crossing forces; banners changed on city walls, the lands south of the Yangtze changed hands multiple times, and the martial spirit of power far surpassed previous eras.

Until eighty years ago, the Mongol cavalry once again breached the Yangtze’s natural defenses, ravaged Jiangnan, and gained unstoppable momentum—the Han people of Jiangnan faced imminent ruin.

It is said that chaos always produces extraordinary heroes; at this time, a mysterious organization called the Hidden Gate suddenly emerged, becoming the pivotal force that turned the tide of the world.

The Hidden Gate used preaching and secret societies to recruit extraordinary individuals; its followers spread across the land, assassinating Mongol generals, burning grain supplies, gathering military intelligence, and uniting anti-Mongol Han armies, becoming the vanguard of resistance.

Among the anti-Mongol Han forces, a general named Li Tianling rose to prominence—he possessed profound strategy, commanded troops like a god, and repeatedly crushed Mongol cavalry, his prestige rising daily.

Rumors claimed Li Tianling had deep ties to the Hidden Gate—that it was the Hidden Gate that provided him with vast intelligence, enabling his invincibility on the battlefield. But whether this was true, no one could say for certain.

Regardless of the rumors, Li Tianling was indeed a once-in-a-generation hero; within ten years, he destroyed the Zhang Chu and Chen Han states and unified half of southern China.

He then led his army north into the Central Plains, raising the slogan: “Expel the barbarians, restore China, establish order, and save the people.” He rallied Han men north and south to rebuild the land.

Li Tianling seized the tide of destiny, and in another ten years, marched north to seize Shandong, Henan, and Tongguan; advanced west to occupy Shanxi, northern Shaanxi, Guanzhong, and Gansu.

With a sweeping momentum over the Central Plains, his forces turned toward the Mongol Yuan capital—only one final battle remained to decide the fate of the world.

Just as the world’s fate hung in the balance, a Hidden Gate master assassinated the Mongol emperor Toghon Temür; the Yuan army plunged into chaos, and Li Tianling seized the moment to storm the capital, swiftly pacifying the realm.

Li Tianling then founded the Great Zhou, becoming Emperor Taizu. In the first five years of his reign, he accomplished two great deeds.

First, he pursued and exterminated the remaining Yuan forces, ensuring the Mongols would never again dare to pasture horses southward.

Second, he uncovered the Hidden Gate’s plot to rebel and usurp the throne, executed its disciples and followers, banned the Hidden Gate throughout the Great Zhou, and decreed: anyone who joined the Hidden Gate shall be killed without mercy.

Now, sixty years since the founding of the Great Zhou, four emperors have ruled; the realm has known peace, the state is prosperous, and the dynasty has entered its era of flourishing splendor.

Outside the window, the night sky was ink-blue, the bright moon hung high; the charcoal in the brazier glowed red, flickering faintly. Beside him, Zhi Shao yawned, nearly asleep.

Jia Cong looked at the scattered books on his desk, thinking of this world’s strange and magnificent past, his heart could not settle.

The novel has been contracted; I am fully focused on writing. A new author—please favorite and support.

(End of Chapter)