Zhang Fei wasn't exactly the deep-thinking type, but as he stared at the glowing screen, something heavy settled in his chest.
Great generals should not die like this.
If a warrior had to die, let it be on a battlefield like Talas, bleeding out beneath foreign skies in an earth-shaking clash between empires. Or like Huo Qubing, burning so brilliantly that even Heaven grew jealous and claimed him at the peak of his glory.
But never like this. Standing at the front lines, ready to fight, only to be stabbed in the back by some scheming eunuch.
That was a miserable way to die.
"Has this Li Longji lost his mind?" Zhang Fei muttered, folding his thick arms across his chest. "Is he actually afraid his own army might win the war or something?"
Liu Bei, seated nearby, gave him a tired look. "Perhaps old age has finally caught up to him."
Zhuge Liang lightly waved his feather fan, retrieving information from an earlier broadcast. "I recall the future generations ranking emperors by the length of their reigns. Our own Liu Shan ruled for forty-one years, ranking eighth. Xuanzong's reign lasted even longer, placing him seventh."
"Furthermore," Zhuge Liang continued, his analytical mind assembling the timeline, "when Wang Zhongsi first entered the palace as a child, Xuanzong was already on the throne. By the time that loyal commander was slandered to death, the Emperor had reigned for over three decades. Even by the most conservative estimates, when this An-Shi Rebellion erupts, Xuanzong has to be pushing well past sixty years of age."
Zhang Fei slapped his thigh.
"Ah, now I get it!"
Zhang Fei's eyes lit up with sudden comprehension, he continued his commentary.
"It's exactly like when Big Brother got so tilted that he rage-quit his tactical senses and burned our entire army to the ground at Yiling!"
"This Li Longji boy, just threw a tantrum and permanently severed his own empire's legs!"
Liu Bei nearly choked on his tea.
He spun around, face flushing crimson. "Hey... Yide, why are you dragging me into this? I already told you, that was a calculated strategic gamble!"
He paused stiffly before muttering through clenched teeth, "...I just happened to roll terribly and lost."
"This Li Longji fellow is blindly trusting slander to settle personal grievances. That's not the same thing."
Still, Liu Bei's feelings toward this Tang Emperor remained complicated.
Though later generations would honor him as Emperor Zhaolie, he understood better than anyone the vast gulf between Shu-Han and the Great Tang.
Which was precisely why watching Li Longji tear apart such a colossal empire with his own hands felt almost painful to witness.
The treasures you cast aside so carelessly are the very things I would have bled to possess.
Fa Zheng, utterly unconcerned with the moral tragedy of it all, was practically leaning across the table, eyes fixed eagerly on the screen.
"Man... just hurry up already," he urged, leaning forward. "How many times has this Li Longji boy said he'll personally lead the campaign now?"
"Let's see for ourselves how a Great Tang Emperor actually commands an army!"
[Lightscreen]
[Li Longji's grand declaration of leading the campaign in person was like a CEO promising a massive bonus so the workers would grind themselves to death, or like Cao Cao pointing to phantom plums to quench his soldiers' thirst.
It was never meant to be real. Just a quick shot of morale.
Anyone who actually believed they were getting that bonus, or that the Emperor was putting on armor and riding to war, had already been scammed.
But with a hundred thousand troops gathered at Tongguan Pass, and both commanding generals already executed by a single stroke of Li Longji's blade, the situation had become... awkward.
After all, he obviously couldn't command a frontline defense by remote control from his palace in Chang'an.
So someone still had to take the blame... ah, no, sorry. Someone had to take charge.
Let's review the casualties.
Feng Changqing had returned from the Anxi frontier for a routine debriefing, threw his loyal heart onto the table, and got his head chopped off for it. Gao Xianzhi had technically retired to Chang'an, was violently drafted into a hopeless situation, and shared the exact same fate.
Consequently, when Li Longji gazed over his assembled officials to appoint a new vanguard commander, every single minister suddenly found the floorboards intensely fascinating. They buried their heads, terrified of making eye contact and catching the Emperor's fatal aggro.
At the absolute last moment, someone timidly spoke up.
"Your Majesty... is not the Duke of Liang, the Military Governor of Hexi, Geshu Han, currently residing in the capital?"
A collective sigh of relief swept through the court. The ministers practically tripped over each other racing to list Geshu Han's legendary achievements, and Li Longji enthusiastically drafted the official decree.
But here's the question. Why exactly was a hardened border warlord like Geshu Han chilling in Chang'an during a national crisis?
After Wang Zhongsi was slandered to death, Geshu Han stepped up as acting Military Governor of Hexi. Faced with Li Longji's obsession with capturing the Tibetan stronghold of Shibao, Geshu Han didn't rely on flashy tactics. Instead, he went all-in on overwhelming logistics and a brutal turtling strategy.
He systematically established a heavy supply chain, constructed the massive Yinglong Fort nearby as a hard-spawn point, and slowly, agonizingly bled the Tibetan defenders dry until he finally captured Shibao, officially securing his permanent rank.
Riding that momentum, Geshu Han weaponized the Hexi border army to shatter several more Tibetan cities, reclaiming the vital Nine Bends of the Yellow River and actively expanding the empire's borders. For a brief moment, Geshu Han stood at the apex of the military world.
But fate has a funny way of pulling the rug out.
While Geshu Han was undeniably a master of warfare, his private life was a disaster. He hit the unholy trifecta of vice: wildly corrupt, a rampant alcoholic, and entirely unrestrained in his physical indulgences.
In the freezing early months of 755 AD, while inspecting the northern garrisons in Hengzhou, the general decided to treat himself to a scalding hot bath after prolonged exposure to bitter cold.
The result was catastrophic.
He suffered a severe stroke that left him temporarily paralyzed, forcing an emergency medical evacuation back to Chang'an.
From a modern medical perspective, given his lifestyle, Geshu Han was absolutely suffering from severe hypertension. Extreme cold causes the body's peripheral capillaries to constrict, spiking internal blood pressure. If you suddenly plunge that over-pressurized system into a scalding bath, the surface capillaries violently expand, causing a massive volume of blood to rush through the body.
Meanwhile, the deeper cerebral arteries haven't warmed up yet, they are still tightly constricted. This tidal wave of blood either ruptures the delicate brain vessels (hemorrhagic stroke), or causes severe blockages leading to brain ischemia (ischemic stroke)
Fortunately for Geshu Han, his case leaned toward the latter, meaning recovery was still possible.
After six months of intensive care in the capital, the veteran general slowly regained his motor functions. He was literally packing his bags, preparing to petition the Emperor to return to his frontier post.
And that was the exact moment the An Lushan Rebellion detonated. Gao Xianzhi and Feng Changqing lost their heads. Xuanzong's desperate draft notice landed directly on his lap.]
Silently cursing Xuanzong's cowardice, Li Shimin turned his gaze toward Sun Simiao.
The King of Medicine showed no surprise at the Emperor's attention. If the glowing screen spoke true, then the "Head Wind" troubling Li Shimin sounded dangerously similar to what the future generations called hypertension.
Sun Simiao stroked his white beard and gave a thoughtful nod.
"Excessive consumption of rich meats and strong wine weakens the spleen's ability to regulate vital energy. Once stagnation accumulates, the Liver Wind rises. When Liver Yang surges upward, the blood follows it toward the head."
"The resulting symptoms align closely with this illness the future generations describe."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"As General Geshu Han's sudden paralysis matches the Yellow Emperor's Inner Classic description: 'When extreme cold isolates and lingers, the blood coagulates. When it coagulates, the pathways are entirely blocked.'"
Sun Simiao paused, his eyes gleaming with academic fascination.
"However, their terminology is incredibly novel. They use the word 'vessels' to describe the energetic meridians, and this concept of... 'capillaries'..."
The elderly physician extended his hand, staring at the faint blue lines running beneath his weathered skin, lost in deep thought. Micro-meridians? Physical tubes carrying the blood itself?
Li Shimin, entirely uninterested in the theoretical mechanics of blood flow, cut straight to the practical issue. "What about the bathing?"
He absolutely refused to accept a future where he became a paralyzed invalid, helplessly carried out of a wooden tub by a squad of panicked eunuchs. The mere thought was intolerable.
Sun Simiao waved off the concern with a reassuring smile. "Your Majesty has no need to fret. The winters in Chang'an are rarely extreme, and whenever you bathe, the imperial attendants ensure the chamber is heated with heavy charcoal braziers. As long as you do not subject a freezing body to boiling water, or a sweating body to freezing water, you are perfectly safe."
But before Li Shimin could fully exhale, Sun Simiao delivered the critical follow-up.
"Furthermore, Your Majesty must stringently adhere to your dietary restrictions. Most importantly, you must avoid extreme bouts of rage. Giving in to fury agitates the Liver Wind, which will immediately trigger and worsen your Head Wind."
As he spoke, Sun Simiao's gaze drifted pointedly to the floor, where a crushed, flattened silver wine cup, recently hurled by a furiously tilted Emperor, lay abandoned.
Li Shimin let out a dry, awkward cough. The diet he could somewhat manage. But avoiding rage?
He shot a sideways glance at the glowing screen. Well, at the very least, I won't be losing my temper today.
His heart was already numb to Li Longji's disaster decision-making. Even if this broadcast ended with Geshu Han being dragged out and executed next, Li Shimin figured he would just slow-clap and praise his 'good grandson's' unyielding consistency. Good job. Well done. Truly worthy of my bloodline.
Meanwhile, within the government offices of Chengdu, Zhang Zhongjing was writing furiously.
His brush moved nonstop across the parchment as he attempted to reconcile traditional medical theory with the strange biological knowledge revealed by the future.
Zhuge Liang stepped beside him, smiling faintly.
"Physician Zhang, when exactly will your Treatise on Cold Pathogenic Diseases be ready for my desk? The sooner you finalize the manuscript, the sooner we can utilize our new printing presses to distribute it and bless the realm."
Without even slowing his writing, Zhang Zhongjing replied with practiced familiarity.
Soon. It's almost done."
Zhuge Liang laughed softly and closed his feather fan.
"Last year, you claimed it was 'almost done.' At the winter solstice, it was 'almost done.' And here we are again."
"Could it be that these fleeting glimpses of future medical knowledge have triggered yet another paradigm shift in your theories?"
This time, Zhang Zhongjing openly nodded.
"That Map of the Five Viscera cleared away confusion that had troubled me for decades. Calling it a mere glimpse hardly does it justice."
Zhuge Liang did not press the matter further.
Instead, he quietly observed the old physician at work while a bold thought slowly formed in his mind.
The ancient medical texts contained highly detailed chapters on the intestines, the stomach, the skeletal structure, and the exact measurements of internal organs.
Such precise, physical mapping couldn't possibly be derived from feeling a patient's pulse or consulting spirits.
During the reign of Wang Mang, the state had actively dissected the corpses of executed criminals, using bamboo splints to physically trace the blood vessels and measure the internal organs to advance surgical knowledge.
Now that Shu-Han possessed the industrial capacity to mass-produce high-quality paper and print thousands of books, perhaps it was time to quietly re-authorize anatomical dissections? If they truly wanted to master the physical mechanics of the human body, they needed to look inside it.
[Lightscreen]
[When the imperial draft notice arrived, Geshu Han immediately refused the appointment. He fought desperately to avoid taking command.
He wasn't an idiot. The blood of Gao Xianzhi and Feng Changqing was still wet on the battlements of Tongguan. Accepting command under such circumstances was tantamount to political suicide.
After a prolonged, exhausting tug-of-war, the Prime Minister Yang Guozhong personally visited Geshu Han's estate.
As Geshu Han's primary political patron and financial backer, Yang Guozhong understood exactly how reluctant the veteran general was. Only after repeated persuasion, promises of support, and enormous financial incentives did he finally convince Geshu Han to leave his sickbed and accept the post.
Even so, Geshu Han refused to take command unconditionally.
He presented Li Longji with a single,non-negotiable ultimatum: If you want me to hold the pass, I demand total, autocratic authority over all military and logistical operations at Tongguan Pass.
By this point, the Tang court no longer possessed another commander capable of replacing him. Holding his nose, Li Longji stamped the decree and agreed.
But the moment Geshu Han officially assumed his post, he instantly leveraged his new dictatorial power to hand Xuanzong a fresh request: Your Majesty, there is a man I need you to kill.
The target was General An Sishun.
The bad blood ran deep. Back in 746 AD, when Wang Zhongsi controlled the entire northwest theater, he appointed An Sishun as commander of the Datou Army while assigning Geshu Han beneath him.
The two men could not have been more different. An Sishun, descended from the Sogdian Nine Surnames of Zhaowu, was known for his strict discipline and uncompromising character. Geshu Han, of Turkic descent, was infamous for his rampant alcoholism and chaotic lifestyle.
Over time, their disagreements evolved into a bitter, toxic rivalry that had burned for an entire decade.
By the time An Lushan rebelled, An Sishun had already spent two years frantically sending memorials to the throne, warning the Emperor that rebellion was coming. Although he was technically An Lushan's cousin, his warnings had been so persistent that Xuanzong spared his life and merely stripped him of command before recalling him to the capital.
This wasn't good enough for Geshu Han. He wanted his old rival in the dirt. Utilizing his new, unchecked authority, Geshu Han blatantly fabricated a 'secret treasonous letter' from An Lushan to An Sishun, miraculously ensuring that the courier was intercepted by his own guards right outside Tongguan Pass.
Armed with this 'irrefutable proof,' Geshu Han officially petitioned the throne, listing seven unforgivable crimes committed by An Sishun.
Desperate to keep his sole remaining frontline commander happy, Li Longji didn't even bother investigating.
He immediately ordered An Sishun and his brother executed, and exiled their entire families to the malarial swamps of Lingnan.
Only after removing his old rival did Geshu Han fully turn his attention toward the war.
At Tongguan, he reorganized the defense line with remarkable efficiency. The eighty thousand hardened frontier troops withdrawn from Hexi and Longxi were merged with the one hundred thousand fragile capital troops. Digging into the stone, he successfully stonewalled An Lushan's elite rebel army for six grueling months.
Yet while both sides remained locked in stalemate outside the pass, the geopolitical landscape behind the rebel lines was beginning to detonate.
When An Lushan first swept southward, many Tang officials throughout Hebei surrendered almost immediately after witnessing the size of the rebel army.
But the moment An Lushan's main forces marched over the horizon, those same officials immediately tore down the rebel banners, hoisted the flag of the Great Tang, and declared a massive counter-insurgency.
At their absolute peak, the Hebei loyalist militias swelled to an astonishing force of nearly two hundred thousand men.
And the man they unanimously elected to lead this massive, anti-rebel coalition is a figure we are all deeply familiar with:
Hebei still possessed loyal men. And the greatest among them was named Yan Zhenqing.]
"Well. That was certainly a spectacle," Li Shimin remarked, showing little surprise.
By now, Li Longji had demonstrated a remarkable talent for disaster. After everything the broadcasts had revealed, Li Shimin no longer felt any particular urge to grow angry over each new absurdity.
Compared to the chaos that had already unfolded, sacrificing a loyal general simply to settle an old political grudge barely seemed shocking anymore.
For this era of the Tang, it almost felt expected.
"Still," Li Shimin continued evenly, "Li Longji has surrendered all authority to others. His Prime Minister is corrupt and incompetent, and Geshu Han is exploiting the crisis for personal revenge."
His expression remained cold and analytical.
"If you choose to sacrifice a loyal man to satisfy a dangerous subordinate, then that subordinate had better reward you with victory."
Otherwise, the consequences would be obvious. Li Shimin understood Li Longji well enough by now. The Emperor who had already executed Gao Xianzhi, Feng Changqing, and An Sishun would not hesitate to add a fourth severed head to Tongguan's walls if Geshu Han failed to deliver.
But as his gaze shifted toward the final lines upon the screen, the coldness in Li Shimin's eyes slowly faded.
A faint, genuine smile appeared on his face.
"The loyalty of the common people... the determination of those Hebei militias..."
He spoke quietly, yet pride lingered within his voice.
"That is the true foundation of the Great Tang."