Chapter 31: The Heart of an Emperor

It could be said that this was the most intimate, most unsightly part of Li Shimin’s imperial statecraft, torn open in its raw, bloody form and laid bare before the Crown Prince, who stood there challenging him.

For a moment, the Ganlu Palace fell into silence once more. The candlelight stretched the shadows of father and son long across the floor like an ancient, frozen mural, yet they stood in wordless confrontation. Within the vast Taiji Palace, only the sound of Li Chengqian’s heavy, fearful breathing echoed through the hall.

In truth, although he had just delivered such a naked, sharp-tongued interrogation, he had already discussed these matters in detail with Zhao Mu at the "Heavenly Realm." He knew deep down that his father’s actions were certainly not driven by the reasons he had loudly proclaimed. Yet, to uncover his father’s most honest answer, he had been forced to use the most devastating, heart-piercing words. That was why he had acted with such deliberate intent. He only wanted to know what the heart of an emperor truly looked like.

Now that he knew, Li Chengqian felt as if he had descended into madness, muttering to himself incessantly. "It was... merely the Emperor... wanting to know if the Crown Prince would rebel?"

In that instant, influenced by Li Shimin’s understated explanation, Li Chengqian felt as if he had been split in two: one half was the heir to the Great Tang, the Crown Prince; the other was merely Li Chengqian. Was this, then, what all emperors were like?

It seemed as though Li Shimin saw in Li Chengqian the very scene he himself had once experienced. In Li Shimin’s eyes, a look of unmasked, wild joy appeared. As an emperor, Li Shimin knew that the heart of an emperor within Crown Prince Li Chengqian had begun to take root and sprout. He had not expected that today’s events would yield such a harvest for Chengqian. Even less did he anticipate that, under the provocation of being relentlessly questioned by this brat without a shred of reverence, he had—in a moment of awkwardness—unconsciously displayed the true posture of an emperor. Yet, it had resulted in a benefit for his son.

For a time, Li Shimin was both angry and amused. He was angry that his own son had managed to make him feel so awkward today, but he was amused by the thought that... with careful cultivation, the future of the Great Tang’s throne was secure.

Just as Li Shimin was lost in a myriad of emotions, Li Chengqian finally began to stir back to clarity. Though it had only been a fleeting moment, he felt as if an entire lifetime had passed. Looking at his father, who was now beaming with joy, and recalling his own actions in the Ganlu Palace earlier, a strange sensation welled up within him.

He had long imagined what the consequences of his actions today might be. He had expected to be reprimanded in open court, to be stripped of his position in the Eastern Palace, or even to be imprisoned and forced to drink a cup of poisoned wine. He had rehearsed the scene countless times in his mind: his father’s thunderous rage, the slamming of the table, and himself, standing beneath the crushing weight of imperial authority, desperately clinging to the dignity of a crown prince, arguing his case until he finally collapsed in despair.

Having just experienced the most intense and reckless outburst of his life, Li Chengqian had poured out years of pent-up resentment, fear, and grievances, even turning the deepest, most secret ambitions and obsessions he held for the Eastern Palace into the sharpest of blades, piercing straight at the most powerful, fearful, and awe-inspiring figure in his world: the supreme Emperor of the Great Tang. He had even roared, "I ask Your Majesty to address me as the Crown Prince!" stripping away the tender veil of familial affection to expose the raw, brutal power struggle between father and son.

He had expected that this would surely provoke the Emperor into a thunderous, overwhelming suppression. But instead... he never imagined his father would react this way.

Li Chengqian’s heart trembled violently, his throat choked with emotion. The icy fury that had originally filled his father’s eyes had completely thawed, replaced by a warmth he had almost forgotten. With tear-filled eyes, Li Chengqian stared blankly at Li Shimin. That gaze seemed to transcend time, falling upon the father who, when he was a toddler and had fallen while learning to walk, would rush over to lift him up and soothe him.

Because in his father’s eyes, there was no anger, no disappointment, and no cold imperial detachment—only a profound tenderness that seemed to pierce through the dust of the years.

"Fa... Father..." Li Chengqian choked out, his voice thick with congestion. With a soft thud, he collapsed to his knees. The grievances, fears, and the pain of being misunderstood, accumulated over so many years, burst forth like a dam breaking. At this moment, he was no longer the stubborn heir who had just roared for his title, nor the resentful Crown Prince; he was merely a child collapsing before his father.

Li Chengqian knelt, quietly embracing Li Shimin, his body trembling uncontrollably. Blood from a wound on his forehead, cut by a memorial, mingled with his tears as they slid down his face. Li Shimin looked down quietly at his weeping son. Those surging tears, those trembling shoulders, and that choked cry of "Father" were like a stone cast into a deep pool, sending ripples through his own, otherwise unshakable, heart.

"Chengqian..." A pair of warm, strong hands gripped Li Chengqian’s trembling shoulders. "Get up."

Li Shimin’s voice was low and slightly husky, no longer carrying the weight of imperial authority, but the tone of a father speaking to his son. Li Chengqian, as if guided by some hidden strength in those words, stumbled to his feet. But when he saw his father’s face so close, and the white frost at his temples that looked so piercing under the candlelight, his eyes blurred with tears once more.

In Li Shimin’s deep eyes, reflecting the wretched state of his son, the anger and scrutiny of the past were gone, replaced only by a profound sense of pity.

"Look at you, and you still want me to address you as Crown Prince..." Li Shimin’s voice held a long-lost indulgence and the reproach of a father toward a child’s mischief. "You storm the palace in armor and brandish weapons, shouting insolent words, only to end up sobbing in my arms?"

As Li Shimin spoke with a touch of teasing, he raised his hand and, with a natural motion, used the sleeve of his bright yellow dragon robe to gently wipe away the remaining tears and bloodstains from Li Chengqian’s face. His movements were clumsy, yet incredibly gentle, as if possessed by an instinctive, newfound caution—the tenderness of one who has reclaimed what was almost lost.

Li Chengqian trembled all over, looking at his father in disbelief. The slight sting as the sleeve brushed against the wound on his forehead told him with absolute clarity that this was real. Almost subconsciously, Li Chengqian grabbed the arm Li Shimin had placed on his shoulder, as if terrified that this moment might vanish into thin air.

"Fa... Father...!" His voice was nearly shattered; he could barely stand.