Chapter Two: Memories

Inside the command tent.

Li Kong was a little bewildered.

Though he couldn’t claim to have mastered all the intricacies of Tang dynasty history, he was intimately familiar with the Zhenguan era, especially the twenty-four founding heroes of the Lingyan Pavilion.

Li Ji, originally named Xu Maogong, later changed his surname to Xu. After siding with the House of Li, his military achievements earned him the imperial surname, becoming Li Shiji. When Li Shimin ascended the throne, wishing to avoid certain taboos, he was renamed Li Ji and granted the title Duke of England.

Because of his calm wisdom and unfathomable resourcefulness, Li Ji became Li Shimin’s most trusted confidant. Although everyone knew of the legendary reputations of Fang Xuanling’s strategy and Du Ruhui’s decisive judgment, and the unyielding Wei Zheng, and even Changsun Wuji’s dominance at court, few realized that, in Li Shimin’s heart, Li Ji was the one he relied on most.

But what puzzled Li Kong was this: as far as he knew, Li Ji had only two sons, the eldest Li Zhen and the younger Li Siwen. Could he be one of them?

At that moment, the sound of Cheng Yaojin’s sigh drifted through the tent. Soon after, Li Kong heard the man’s gruff, exasperated voice: “Listen, nephew, I know your mother’s death weighs heavy on your heart, especially with that old codger Li Ji’s attitude—no wonder you’re angry and humiliated. But whatever the case, he's still your father. As the eldest son of the Li family, running off to the frontier without a word is the height of unfilial conduct. If His Majesty hears of this, won’t he have your skin?”

Eldest son? Am I Li Zhen?

Li Kong said nothing, though his mind was awhirl with thoughts.

Seeing his silence, Cheng Yaojin walked over to the bedside, his voice solemn: “Li Kong, listen to me. When you get back, go straight to your father, kneel, and admit your fault. It’s not about right or wrong—it’s simply what a son must do.”

Boom—

As these words were spoken, Li Kong’s mind exploded. A flood of memories surged into him like a tidal wave, overwhelming his already fragile body. Unable to bear the pain, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Faintly, he heard Cheng Yaojin’s anxious roar, likely calling for the army physician—the old man who could barely walk without assistance.

…

The carriage swayed as it rolled onward, rain pattering fitfully against the canvas. A chill wind swept through, bringing with it a biting cold.

Li Kong groaned and opened his eyes, feeling as if the bones in his back might snap from the jolting ride.

After a while, his vision cleared and he began to sort through the memories flooding his mind—remnants left by the body’s former soul.

He too was called Li Kong, courtesy name Yunfeng, the eldest son of Li Ji. Yet as an illegitimate child, his position in the household was tenuous at best. After all, his mother had only been a maidservant in the Li family.

It was said that this maid had been given to Li Ji by Shan Xiongxin when Li Ji first joined the Second Worthies’ Manor, to ensure his bloodline. Back then, the manor was famed throughout the land, arousing the Sui dynasty’s suspicion. Li Ji, forced to seek refuge there after killing a corrupt official, had become an outlaw. In such perilous times, leaving behind descendants was a blessing, so Li Ji did not refuse. Thus, Li Kong was born, a little “bandit” of the Second Worthies’ Manor.

Later, when Li Yuan raised his standard in rebellion and the empire was thrown into chaos, the Second Worthies’ Manor became an object of desire for all. Yet Shan Xiongxin was no ordinary man—he allied with Zhai Rang and gathered forces at Wagang Stronghold, becoming a formidable contender. Li Kong was only two years old then.

Afterward, they joined the Tang. Not until Li Yuan crowned himself emperor did Li Ji take another wife and father a son, Li Zhen. The once-treasured only child, Li Kong, suddenly found himself in an awkward position. He was five years old that year.

What followed was a tale of bitterness.

The legitimate Lady of England could not abide a mere maidservant holding any esteem in the household, so she oppressed her at every turn. Even though Li Ji was aware, he turned a blind eye, for the maid had been a gift from Shan Xiongxin—a man who had nearly killed Li Shimin while following Wang Shichong. Had it not been for the sake of his own reputation, Li Ji might have disposed of her long ago.

Early this year, Li Kong’s mother finally died, imprisoned by Lady England for ten days and nights, starved to death. Li Kong raised a furor in the Duke’s manor, publicly declaring a severance of father and son. The scandal was so great it even reached Li Shimin, who had just ascended the throne the previous year.

Just as Li Shimin was about to punish him, Li Kong vanished without a trace.

The next thing Li Kong recalled were the events of the past half year.

Though these were the memories of his predecessor, their souls had merged. Deep down, Li Kong felt a trace of resentment toward Li Ji, the future great minister of the Lingyan Pavilion—enough to drive a wedge between father and son.

It also dawned on Li Kong why history made no mention of him. The official histories of the Tang were compiled under Li Shimin’s direction; a “disgraceful son” who marred Li Ji’s reputation was best omitted.

Had he not transmigrated, his predecessor would have died on the steppe, his body lost and forgotten by all. But now…

“Li Ji, I will make you regret this!”

With a wild cry in his heart, Li Kong lifted the carriage curtain. Rain fell in ever-thickening strands outside, the look in his eyes growing darker.

But soon all emotion faded, replaced by a calm acceptance. Having crossed the threshold of life and death, he could now remain unshaken even if Mount Tai collapsed before him. He had mastered his emotions to perfection.

At present, Li Ji was Li Shimin’s new favorite, his rank eclipsing even Qin Qiong and Li Jing. Others like Cheng Yaojin and Yuchi Gong were no match for him; perhaps only Changsun Wuji could rival him, and even then, only just. Now was not the time to break with Li Ji—there was nothing to be gained.

Yet a true man knows when to bend and when to stand tall. People care not for the process, only the outcome. This, Li Kong understood well.

He let the curtain fall, leaned back against the carriage wall, and narrowed his eyes in thought, already plotting his next move.

Clearly, Cheng Yaojin was leading the group back to Chang’an. Soon, Li Kong would have to face his “dear father,” perhaps even Li Shimin himself. With his predecessor having caused such a scandal, how best to navigate the coming storm was a matter of utmost urgency.

Suddenly, Cheng Yaojin’s distinctive booming voice rang out: “Stop! Everyone set up camp on the high ground nearby. We’ll rest today and continue tomorrow.”

Shortly after, slow and steady footsteps approached.

The carriage curtain was lifted, and a thoroughly soaked Cheng Yaojin ducked inside. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. At least after returning to Chang’an, I can die with some dignity!” Li Kong replied with a smile.

“You… Never mind, I won’t lecture you further. But you did wipe out a thousand-strong Turkic detachment at your last post. That’s no small feat. His Majesty won’t make things hard for you; even your father may look at you differently.”

“Is that so? Then I suppose I have something to look forward to…”