Inside the Ganlu Hall, long after the light screen had faded, Emperor Li Shimin sat motionless, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeve.
Had his impromptu idea actually been one step behind the Marquis of Wu, Zhuge Liang?
He struggled to accept that a man from the ancient Shu Han era had beaten him to the punch by singgle step.
Sun Simiao, the revered King of Medicine, didn't care about imperial rivalries. He stood undisturbed by the geopolitical drama. As far as he was concerned, the future generations hadn't said much about the legendary Guizhi Tang prescription.
However, for a master physician like Sun Simiao, the tiny breadcrumbs of information were enough to trigger a revelation.
Take the Kidney Qi Pill, for example. The future commentator mentioned it had room for improvement. The modern version was called the Liuwei Dihuang Pill. The name itself was a dead giveaway. It translated to the Six-Ingredient Rehmannia Pill. That meant it only had six primary herbs.
Sun Simiao possessed a flawless memory. He knew the original ancient Kidney Qi Pill required eight primary herbs.
So, which two herbs did the future pediatricians cut out? Furthermore, how did dropping those two ingredients alter the specific ratios of the remaining six?
This seemed like a simple math problem on the surface. In reality, it was a medical puzzle. Sun Simiao decided this was the homework assignment to toss at the Imperial Medical Bureau. It would finally give those lazy apprentices something meaningful to do.
Subtracting two herbs sounded easy. However, balancing the subsequent pharmacological conflicts and ensuring the remaining herbs still complemented each other would test the skill level of every doctor in the bureau.
More importantly, Sun Simiao was moved by the analytical perspective of the future generations.
He loved their concept of practical medicine.
The pharmacological breakdown provided by the light screen was simple, visual, and easy to grasp. It treated the human body like a battlefield and the herbs like military supply lines.
The word "practical" held weight. It meant being grounded in reality. It meant seeking the truth. It required a doctor to focus on the physical fulfillment of a task.
This sparked clarity in Sun Simiao's mind. Medicine fundamentally had to stand on the side of the patient. A doctor had to use the logic of medicine to decode the logic of the illness. The goal was restoring the patient to health.
If one wanted to legitimize the study of medicine, the first step was gaining a thorough understanding of the human body.
The future generations had casually dropped terms like blood circulation and vascular permeability. These concepts were unheard of in the current era. They sounded like sorcery.
To understand them, one needed anatomy.
Sun Simiao thought back to the anatomical charts from the Song Dynasty shown on the light screen. He felt disgust. The artistic quality of those internal organ drawings was a tragedy. They looked like the scribbles of a blind child.
Sun Simiao rubbed his chin. He turned his head and locked his eyes onto Yan Liben.
Yan Liben, the court artist, was currently frowning. He kept scanning the pavilion floor, searching for something he had definitely just been holding a moment ago.
Where is it? I just had it in my hand. This hall is not that big. Did it grow legs and walk away?
When he finally met Sun Simiao's gaze, he offered a polite, confused smile and nodded.
Sun Simiao flashed back an eager smile.
Yan Liben possessed a realistic painting technique. If someone with his talent refused to draw anatomical dissection charts, it would be a loss for medical science.
Sun Simiao stroked his white beard. He began to scheme. Should he ask the Emperor to issue a direct royal decree? Or should he try to persuade the artist through logic and emotional blackmail?
Still glancing around the room, Yan Liben suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. He had no idea why. The artist grew more confused. It was strange. The Ganlu Hall was not that large. There was no wind. Where exactly had his rough sketches blown off to?
---
Back on the throne, Li Shimin felt a lingering regret about losing the medical spotlight to Zhuge Liang.
He pushed the feeling aside. It was a minor annoyance.
The light screen was gone now. Li Shimin waved his hand, signaling for the assembled court officials to wrap up and leave.
This was the standard operating procedure inside the Ganlu Hall. After a viewing session, the Emperor usually kept one or two key military advisors behind to discuss grand strategy in private. The rest of the officials would scatter. They were expected to go home, write detailed reports on whatever future technology caught their interest, and submit them for the Emperor to review later.
Today was no different.
"Yaoshi, please remain. Maogong, stay as well."
The two legendary generals stood still.
The rest of the civil and military officials bowed and began leaving the hall in groups.
The departure of Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui was particularly noticeable. Fang Xuanling was usually a man of grace and dignity. Today, he slammed his transcribed notes onto a table, gave the Emperor the most rushed bow imaginable, and grabbed Du Ruhui by the sleeve. He dragged his fellow prime minister toward the exit. He wanted to go home and study future mathematics.
Du Ruhui was halfway out the heavy wooden doors before his brain registered what was happening. He twisted his body around, offered a loud farewell to the Emperor, and allowed himself to be dragged into the courtyard.
Yan Lide, the Minister of Works, was acting the same way. He organized his copied engineering blueprints. He was desperate to run back to the Directorate of Works, catalog the new designs, and start building things immediately.
He also planned to stick to his original strategy. He was going to drag his younger brother, Yan Liben, into the engineering department to act as a drafting assistant.
Yan Lide reached out and grabbed his brother's arm. He pulled.
Nothing happened.
He pulled again. Still nothing.
"Brother, are you glued to the floor or something?" Yan Lide muttered, completely confused.
He intended to drag his brother out and pitch him a vision of their future shaping the empire's infrastructure. He did not expect Yan Liben to stand there with his feet seemingly nailed to the floorboards.
Yan Liben ignored his older brother's confused stare. The artist stepped forward, raised his hands, and bowed deeply to the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, I excel at detailed line-drawing," Yan Liben announced. "If Your Majesty plans to discuss military strategy with the two state dukes, please allow me to stay and listen. I wish to sketch a detailed map of the regions you intend to evaluate."
Yan Lide stared at his brother in shock.
He remembered how much Yan Liben used to despise serving as a royal painter. His brother used to view it as a demeaning chore. While his attitude had softened slightly in recent years, he had never shown this level of enthusiasm for drawing maps.
Li Shimin looked down at Yan Liben. A subtle smile played on the Emperor's lips.
"Granted."
Yan Lide could only leave alone, completely baffled. Was this still the same brother he had grown up with? The same brother who used to complain every single time the Emperor asked him to paint something? The same brother who would rather hide in his studio than attend court functions?
Now he was volunteering to draw maps. For free. Without being asked.
Yan Lide shook his head. Either his brother had been replaced by a doppelganger, or the light screen had done something to his brain.
---
Li Shimin ignored the eager artist. He pulled a large, rolled-up leather map across his desk. He pondered for a second before getting to the point.
"The day before yesterday, an urgent military dispatch arrived from Liangzhou," Li Shimin said. "The savage Tuyuhun bandits have invaded Shanzhou. Their forces are currently prowling along the banks of the Huangshui River."
Li Jing calmly stroked his beard. As the Minister of War, he naturally handled all incoming military intelligence. He knew the contents of that report.
Shanzhou was the front door to the Tuyuhun Kingdom. The Tang Empire had constructed Shancheng and Huangshuicheng in that region for one purpose. They housed garrisons designed to block Tuyuhun raiding parties.
If Shanzhou fell, the enemy cavalry could drive into the heart of the Tang domain. They could march north and devastate Liangzhou. They could swing east and pillage the wealthy Longyou corridor. It would be a disaster for the border economy.
Fortunately, Li Daliang was currently serving as the Governor General of Liangzhou. He was a reliable nail that Li Shimin had hammered into the northwest border. Li Daliang was not known for flashy victories. He was known for never making a mistake on the battlefield. He was also a brilliant administrator. He was the man to guard the frontier.
When the Tuyuhun threat erupted at Shanzhou, Li Daliang immediately rallied his local troops and marched out from Liangzhou to break the siege.
Thinking about this timeline, Li Jing realized something. Long before the Tang army had captured the Eastern Turkic Khagan, Li Shimin had already appointed Li Daliang as the Supreme Pacification Commissioner of the Northwest Route. This meant the Emperor had locked his gaze onto the Tuyuhun Kingdom long before the magical future screen ever appeared.
Li Jing processed these details in his head. Consequently, he tuned out the speech the Emperor was currently delivering. He only tuned back in for the final sentence.
"Therefore, my mind is made up," Li Shimin declared. "I hereby appoint Li Jing as the Supreme Commander of the Qinghai Route Expeditionary Force. You will oversee all military operations to annihilate the Tuyuhun Kingdom."
Li Jing bowed his head.
"I will not fail the trust Your Majesty has placed in me."
They were not holding a formal morning court session. This was a private strategic meeting. There was no need for dramatic kneeling or exaggerated shouting. Furthermore, Li Shimin did not care about theatrical loyalty.
During the Eastern Turkic campaign, people had showered the Emperor with flowery praise. None of those words mattered. The only thing that mattered was seeing the bound Khagan dragged into the throne room. Results were the only currency Li Shimin respected.
Selecting the deputy commanders and the regional route commanders would require at least two more sessions between Li Jing and the Emperor. Once they finalized the roster, they would announce the war formally during a grand court assembly.
A formal announcement at the morning court signaled the official activation of the empire's war machine. It was the same process they used to crush the Eastern Turks. Li Jing was comfortable with the routine.
There was only one difference. Based on the naming conventions of the current era, Li Jing's title should have been the Supreme Commander of the Xihai Route. However, the future commentators on the light screen kept referring to the region as Qinghai. Li Shimin had apparently decided to just roll with the modern terminology.
Operating under his new title, Li Jing stepped up to the desk. He and the Emperor launched into a detailed discussion regarding grain transportation, supply chain logistics, and initial mobilization strategies.
When the conversation shifted toward opening a secondary invasion route into Tuyuhun territory, Li Shimin lowered his voice.
"The Qiang tribes in Lintao cannot be trusted."
There were two viable paths to invade the Tuyuhun Kingdom from the Longyou region. If Shanzhou was the guarded front door, then Lintao was the quiet side door.
If an army started at Tianshui and marched directly west, they would eventually hit Lintao. The area was populated by the nomadic Qiang tribes. If an army kept marching west for another two hundred li, they would reach the desolate plains of Wuhai.
Wuhai was a famous location. According to the future light screen, it was the spot where Su Dingfang would eventually forge his legendary reputation. It was also the spot where Xue Rengui would eventually suffer his tragic defeat.
Just seventy to eighty li north of Wuhai was the great Qinghai Lake. That was the soft underbelly of the Tuyuhun Kingdom.
The problem was the geography. Marching through that route meant dealing with the local Qiang tribes. Li Ji had previously suggested drafting the Qiang warriors to fight alongside the Tang army. They could serve as auxiliary cavalry and local guides.
Li Jing had remained neutral on the idea. Li Shimin, however, was rejecting it.
"The Lintao Qiang tribes have no historical grudges against the Tuyuhun," Li Shimin explained, tapping the map. "Yes, they currently submit to the Great Tang. But they will be reluctant to wage a war against the Tuyuhun just to please us. They will sit on the fence and wait to see who is winning. I will not risk our supply lines on their loyalty."
Li Shimin shook his head, shelving the Lintao route strategy for the moment. He then shifted his focus onto Li Ji.
"Maogong, are you willing to march alongside Li Jing to conquer the Tuyuhun?"
If the Emperor had asked this question three months ago, Li Ji would have dropped to his knees and accepted the command without hesitation.
Right now, however, things were different. Just an hour ago, he had watched footage of steel dreadnoughts tearing the ocean apart. The scale of future naval warfare was still burning in his mind. He hesitated.
Li Shimin and Li Jing did not rush him. Seeing Li Ji lost in thought, the Emperor and his supreme commander simply leaned over the fresh map Yan Liben was currently drawing. They went back to pointing at valleys and debating cavalry strikes.
Very quickly, the hesitation vanished from Li Ji's face. It was replaced by determination. He stepped back and bowed formally.
"Your Majesty, I request to be stationed at Laizhou!"
The moment the words left his mouth, relief washed over his face.
Technically, he could have played both sides. He could have requested to join the desert campaign first, smash the Tuyuhun, and then transfer to the coast to study naval warfare later.
But Li Ji was a pragmatist. He did the math in his head. From gathering grain to fighting the final battle, the Tuyuhun campaign would last until at least April of next year.
It was currently early October. That meant he would be stuck in the desert for over half a year.
That official Liu Rengui had already caught the Emperor's eye. If Li Ji wasted six months in the sand, how far ahead would Liu Rengui get in studying modern mathematics and naval tactics?
If he tried to do both, the outcome was obvious. He would end up serving as Li Jing's deputy in the desert. Then, he would transfer to the ocean and end up serving as Liu Rengui's deputy on the water.
Li Shiji wanted to forge his own legacy. He wanted his name carved into history. He did not want to spend his career playing second fiddle to other men.
Since that was the reality, he needed to cut his losses and make a choice. So what if naval warfare required advanced mathematics? He was only in his early thirties. If a nobody like Liu Rengui could learn it, Li Shiji could learn it too.
It is just numbers, he told himself. Numbers cannot be that hard. They are not like enemy cavalry charging at you from the flank. They are not like supply lines stretching across a thousand li of hostile desert. They just sit there. On paper. Being numbers.
How bad could it be?
His eyes burned with resolve.
Li Shimin slapped his general on the shoulder and erupted into laughter.
"Outstanding!" Li Shimin cheered. "The glory of pacifying the oceans is up for grabs! Let us see who reaches the finish line first. Will it be Maogong, or will it be Liu Rengui?"
---
With their respective missions locked in, Li Jing and Li Ji respectfully took their leave.
Li Jing planned to head to the Ministry of War archives. He needed to read every intelligence report filed from Longyou regarding the Tuyuhun over the past two years. He also planned to draft two urgent letters to Li Daliang in Liangzhou to get ground updates before finalizing his battle plan.
Li Ji planned to head to the Imperial Academy. He needed to figure out how to enroll in an arithmetic class. He was also debating whether or not he should visit Fang Xuanling's estate.
He had heard rumors from that miserable wretch Hou Junji. Apparently, Fang Xuanling had become obsessed with future mathematics. Li Ji wondered if the Prime Minister had discovered any shortcuts for learning the formulas.
Then again, seeing how Fang Xuanling had dragged Du Ruhui out of the pavilion earlier, Li Ji wondered if interrupting the man's study session was a good idea.
---
Back in the pavilion, Yan Liben finished his map. He packed up his brushes, looked around the empty room, and bowed, preparing to leave.
"Liben," Li Shimin called out, stopping the artist in his tracks.
The Emperor addressed him by his courtesy name. Li Shimin was so used to calling him Liben that he had forgotten the man's actual given name.
Usually, an Emperor using a courtesy name was a sign of affection and intimacy. For Yan Liben, however, the friendly tone sounded like a death knell. His heart jumped.
He wanted to run away. Instead, he forced his feet to stop. He turned around and bowed again.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
Li Shimin did not waste time with small talk.
"Recently, we constructed a new branch of the Imperial Medical Bureau right next to the prison of the Supreme Court," the Emperor said softly. "Tell me, Liben. Have you heard anything about this?"
Yan Liben nodded. He was terrified.
"I have heard certain rumors floating around the marketplace regarding this new medical facility, Your Majesty," Yan Liben stammered. "The stories are absurd and disturbing."
"Oh?" Li Shimin looked amused. He sat back down and pointed at a chair, gesturing for the nervous artist to take a seat. "How absurd are we talking?"
Yan Liben lowered himself onto the edge of the wooden chair, keeping his posture stiff. He searched his memory.
"People are saying the doctors at this new clinic are engaging in dark rituals," Yan Liben whispered. "They say the doctors are slicing open corpses in a quest for immortality. There are rumors of them ripping out hearts and digging out lungs. The common folk believe they are practicing forbidden witchcraft."
Yan Liben swallowed hard. "Furthermore, people are swearing that the number of executed criminals piled up at the Lone Willow Tree this year has dropped. The bodies are vanishing."
The execution ground for the Tang capital was located at a major T-intersection just outside the southwest corner of the Imperial City. The area featured a distinct willow tree. Because of this, the commoners simply referred to the grim execution site as the Lone Willow Tree.
Li Shimin picked up his teacup. The tea inside had gone cold. He drank it anyway, finishing it in one gulp. He set the cup down and shook his head.
"The rumors are all true," Li Shimin stated casually.
Yan Liben's eyes widened. Based on the anatomical charts shown on the light screen earlier, he had suspected something dark was happening. But hearing the Emperor casually confirm the existence of a state-sponsored organ harvesting clinic was too much to process.
The real nightmare was just beginning.
"Sun Simiao is personally dissecting the bodies of condemned criminals," Li Shimin explained, a faint smile playing on his lips. "He needs to examine the internal structures of the human body in order to understand the pathology of disease."
Listening to the Emperor's explanation, a sense of doom washed over Yan Liben.
His instincts were correct.
"However, dissected bodies rot rather quickly. They cannot be preserved for long," Li Shimin continued. "Divine Physician Sun has a photographic memory, so he does not forget what he sees. But trying to teach junior medical students using rotting flesh is inconvenient. You, Liben, are a master of fine, realistic line-drawing. Why don't you use your talents to paint the internal organs of these corpses? We can create a master anatomical textbook for the medical bureau. What do you say?"
Yan Liben's mind raced. He understood the historical significance of the project. But the thought of standing in a blood-soaked room, staring at butchered human organs, and trying to sketch them accurately made his stomach churn. It felt repulsive.
Li Shimin was not in a rush. He simply watched the artist squirm.
"I have heard from many officials that you are skilled at capturing a person's outward appearance," Li Shimin noted. "They say you are particularly gifted at painting people in embarrassing situations."
The Emperor leaned forward. "Are you telling me you lack the skill to paint their insides?"
That sentence shattered Yan Liben's resistance. His professional pride as an artist was on the line. He shot out of his chair and bowed deeply, his voice filled with sincerity.
"The advancement of medicine will save millions of lives!" Yan Liben declared. "Since the empire requires a master medical textbook, I will gladly offer my talents to assist the medical students. I am at your service!"
Li Shimin smiled and nodded. Seeing that the artist had accepted his fate, the Emperor waved his hand, allowing Yan Liben to leave.
---
Alone in the pavilion, Li Shimin's mind drifted back to the hyper-realistic blueprint of the modern galleon shown on the screen earlier. It was only now that he truly realized how valuable a man like Yan Liben was to the state.
For comparison, Li Shimin had seen the naval blueprints drafted by the previous Sui Dynasty. They had drawn these massive five-story warships. If a shipwright actually tried to build one based on those paintings, they would need a lot of imagination. And probably a lot of prayer.
In those old paintings, the soldiers on the deck were drawn completely out of proportion to the size of the ship. The hull shape looked nothing like a real vessel. Looking at the scroll, the only useful information you could extract was that the boat had five floors. Everything else was artistic interpretation.
The modern technical drawings from the future were entirely different. Whether it was a crossbow, a catapult, or a galleon, everything was drawn with exact, mathematical precision. It looked like the real thing. You could almost feel the wood grain. It was beautiful in a cold, scientific way.
More importantly, realistic drawings made reverse-engineering infinitely easier. The proportions, the length of the timber, and the size of the joints were immediately obvious at a single glance. You could actually build something from them.
Li Shimin shuddered to think what would happen if the future generations had drawn their galleons using the abstract, poetic style of the Sui Dynasty painters. The knowledge would be utterly useless. You would end up with a ship that looked like a floating box. Or worse, a floating box with sails attached to the wrong end.
As he sat in the silence, Li Shimin's thoughts drifted into highly uncharted territory.
He thought about Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty. The man was widely considered one of the most incompetent, disastrous rulers in Chinese history. He lost half his empire to invaders. But he was obsessed with painting. He even elevated painting to a core subject in the imperial civil service exams.
Li Shimin frowned. Was that foolish idiot actually a misunderstood visionary?
If a nation wanted to ignite a scientific revolution, did they first have to elevate the status of realistic, technical artists?
For the first time in his reign, the brilliant Emperor of the Great Tang was completely unsure of the answer.