Chapter Thirty-One: Deep Bonds Between Sovereign and Subject

Emperor Li Er was caught between two minds: on one hand, he was skeptical about whether Fang Jun was a "rabbit"—a euphemism for a homosexual—and on the other, he was deeply infuriated by the assault on Liu Lei.

A few days ago, his fifth son had been soundly beaten by Fang Jun. Li Er, who prided himself on his keen perception, had been tricked by that little brat Fang Jun (or so Li Er believed). Instead of upholding justice for his own son, he had ended up ordering his own son to be severely caned. Could there be a more muddle-headed father than that? This had already caused Li Er to lose face, though he had suppressed his rage at the time.

The result of his restraint was that Fang Jun had become increasingly unscrupulous. No sooner had he finished beating the fifth prince than he turned around and struck the fourth? While it wasn't a direct physical assault like the one on the fifth, the humiliation of being slapped in the face in front of a crowd was just as bad, and in some ways, even more detestable.

"I am the master of all under heaven," he thought. "Even if my sons aren't masters of the world, they should at least be shown minimal respect!" Yet, what did he get? No respect, just a giant foot stomping on their faces. The fifth son was a lost cause, so his reputation hardly mattered, but the fourth was different. Li Er had high hopes for this, his most favored son.

Every official in the court knew that Liu Lei was a staunch supporter of the Prince of Wei, Li Tai. To beat Liu Lei in public was to slap Li Tai across the face. How could Li Tai maintain any authority before the courtiers after this? Li Er felt stifled and deeply frustrated.

Why? Because of that same old dilemma. Fang Xuanling had been working himself to the bone dealing with the aftermath of the snow disaster and had fallen ill with a cold. Li Er had strictly ordered him to return home to recuperate. In such a state, how could he possibly bring himself to punish Fang Jun severely? If he didn't punish him, he couldn't vent his spleen; if he punished him too harshly, he felt he would be failing his old comrade, Fang Xuanling.

Emperor Li Er was so conflicted that he became irritable, lashing out at two eunuchs and casting a pall of gloom over the Taiji Palace. Everyone walked on eggshells, terrified that a single slip would invite the Emperor's wrath.

Li Er was still brooding when the old eunuch Wang De entered the hall with a steady gait. Wang De bowed and softly explained what had transpired at the Yeting Palace.

Li Er let out a cold snort. "Have these filthy wretches grown guts of steel? Do they think the forbidden palace is masterless and they can do whatever they please? Investigate this thoroughly. Punish anyone involved without mercy! As for the female official who forced the woman to her death, grant her death! Exterminate the male members of her clan to the third degree and exile them to Lingnan, and send the women to the Music Conservatory. See to it yourself!"

Since the passing of Empress Zhangsun, Li Er had been consumed by grief. Despite repeated petitions from his ministers to appoint a new Empress, he had rejected them all. In his heart, the only Empress of the Great Tang Empire could ever be his gentle, intelligent, and tender Guanyin-bi. No one else was worthy.

When the Empress was alive, the forbidden palace had been serene and harmonious, allowing Li Er to focus on his grand designs and imperial ambitions. But she had been dead for only a few days, and already the palace was a cesspool of corruption and chaos, even leading to a forced suicide. How could Li Er not be furious? He would use this opportunity to carry out a rigorous purge.

"As you command." Wang De withdrew. No sooner had he turned than an attendant hurried in, reporting, "Your Majesty, Chancellor Fang is outside the palace gate with his second son, Fang Jun, requesting an audience."

Emperor Li Er felt an immediate wave of irritation. *What is this? Afraid I'll punish your son, so you've rushed here to plead for him? You feel heart-wrenched when I punish your son, but do you think I don't feel the same when your son beats mine?*

Regardless of his anger, he had to respect Fang Xuanling. Li Er waved a hand dismissively. "Let them in."

The attendant hesitated, stammering, "Well... Fang Jun has been carried here. His legs appear to be injured, and he cannot walk. If he is to enter the hall, he will have to be carried in..."

Li Er’s eyelid twitched. *This Fang Jun is truly insidious and despicable! To think I once believed he was a loyal and honest soul—I was truly blind!*

In his mind, Fang Xuanling was the epitome of a refined gentleman. Even in the heat of political debate, he was always soft-spoken and never lost his temper. How could such a man come up with such a pathetic "bitter meat" ruse to escape punishment? It must be that little scoundrel Fang Jun, anticipating that he would be punished, who concocted this scheme to deceive him. His heart deserved to be punished!

Suppressing his rage, Li Er nodded calmly. "Very well, bring him in. I should like to see just how badly he is injured that he cannot even walk."

The attendant left. Wang De, who was about to depart, was stopped by Li Er: "Go and check on that Lady Wu. If she is not in danger of dying, send her to the Fang residence when the Chancellor leaves."

"Understood." Wang De bowed and left.

A moment later, footsteps echoed outside the hall. Li Er, suppressing his inner fire, sat upright and gritted his teeth, eager to see how Fang Jun would perform his little drama.

Fang Xuanling, his hair and beard turned gray, looked haggard from his cold. Even his usually straight back was slightly hunched. He walked into the hall with unsteady steps, and after only a few paces, he collapsed to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground. His voice trembled as he cried, "Your subject has failed to discipline his house, allowing my son to act with such audacity. My crime is worthy of death..."

In an instant, the rage in Li Er’s heart vanished like snow in boiling water. He remembered how, back in the military camp north of the Wei River, Fang Xuanling had been so full of vigor and dashing charm. Time had flown; in the blink of an eye, the elegant scholar of his youth was now sixty, his jade-like grace replaced by the weariness and decay of age.

Li Er’s emotions stirred. He rose from his throne, hurried down the white marble steps, and reached out to support Fang Xuanling by the arms. "Xuanling, why do you do this? We are sovereign and subject in name, but our bond is closer than brothers. I once swore to share wealth and honor with you all! Do you think those were empty words? By kneeling before me today, are you trying to break my heart?"

These words moved Fang Xuanling to tears. The two men held each other, sighing with deep emotion.

Fang Jun, lying on the stretcher, remained calm, though he was inwardly struck with admiration. If there was any emperor in history who knew how to win hearts, it was Li Shimin.

*The hare dies, the hound is cooked; the birds are gone, the bow is stored away.* This was the inescapable fate of almost every founding emperor. Only two had managed to keep their vows to share the spoils with the brothers who helped them build their empires: Zhao Kuangyin and Li Shimin.

Was it because their moral character was superior? Absolutely not. One had stained the Xuanwu Gate with blood, murdering his brothers and forcing his father to abdicate to seize the throne—hardly the model of filial piety. The other had donned the yellow robe while the old emperor lay dying, stealing another's empire—hardly the model of loyalty.

Their characters were arguably the worst of the worst, yet these two men were remarkably generous to their meritorious officials. Zhao Kuangyin used the "release of military power over a cup of wine," merely stripping them of their commands while granting them high offices and noble status. Li Shimin was even more magnanimous, allowing his generals to retain their commands, ultimately carving out the peerless reputation of "Heavenly Khan."

What a man...

Fang Jun had also experienced the political world and knew that human hearts were the hardest things to fathom. He understood the eternal truth that one must always be on guard. Yet, if he were in their shoes, he didn't think he would have the nerve to do the same. He would probably have launched a purge to eliminate those proud, unruly generals for peace of mind, just like Liu Bang or Zhu Yuanzhang...

Lost in thought, he shifted slightly, and a stabbing pain from his buttocks caused him to let out a sharp cry of "Ouch!"

The intimate exchange between the sovereign and his minister was abruptly cut short. Fang Xuanling, in a fit of rage, turned and slapped Fang Jun on the back of his head. "You little brat! What are you howling about?"

Fang Jun looked helpless, only to hear Emperor Li Er say in a faint, dry voice, "Don't hit him in the head; you'll make him stupid. You can hit him on the rear; it doesn't matter how you hit that. And once you're done, there are still recommendation tickets to be had..."