Tang Dynasty: A Guide to Avoiding Pitfalls for Li Er at the Start

Chapter 370 That brat Wen He must not be allowed to live.

"Quickly summon the imperial physician!"

Li Shimin's exclamation rang out in the Liangyi Hall. He quickly walked down the imperial steps, his gaze falling on Chu Liang, who was lying on the ground with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His brows furrowed into a knot.

If Chu Liang were to die in the palace today because of Wen He's words, he and Wen He would probably be recorded in the annals of history.

One allowed a close advisor to insult an old minister, and the other forced a court scholar to his death. If this got out, it would not only damage his reputation, but Wen He would also be held accountable. Even if he wanted to show favoritism, he would have to give an explanation to the people.

Wen He will inevitably suffer some hardship in the future.

"He vomited blood?"

Hearing the commotion inside, Wen He, who was outside the hall, couldn't help but tiptoe and try to peek inside, but was quickly stopped by two imperial guards standing at the door.

The two imperial guards, already terrified by Wen He's angry rebuke outside the palace, now faced this scion of Gaoyang County who dared to curse even nobles, pleaded in their voices: "Sir Gaoyang County, please don't make things difficult for us! His Majesty ordered you to wait outside the palace. If His Majesty sees you trespassing, we can't bear the consequences!"

Seeing this, Wen He stopped insisting and simply leaned against the pillar, glancing towards the direction of the palace gate.

Not long after, a series of hurried footsteps came from inside the hall. A group of nobles escorted two people out quickly. The two nobles at the head were supporting the unconscious Chu Liang, their faces filled with anxiety.

"Did she really faint?"

Wen He deliberately raised her voice, her tone tinged with a hint of mockery.

Upon hearing this, the nobles supporting Chu Liang immediately stopped in their tracks, turned around, and glared angrily at Wen He, their eyes seeming to want to devour him. One nobleman in a scarlet official robe was so angry that the veins on his forehead bulged, and he pointed at Wen He and shouted angrily.

"How dare you, you brat! You provoked Scholar Chu to the point of fainting, and you still dare to gloat!"

Wen He glanced at him indifferently, a cold smile playing on her lips.

"Besides glaring at me and cursing, what else can you do? If you hadn't been so hostile as to force His Majesty to punish me the moment you met, but instead had properly discussed with me the reasons why the students of the Hongwen Academy had trespassed into the examination hall, would things have escalated to this point?"

His gaze swept over the nobles in front of him, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“Since the Northern and Southern Dynasties, your ancestors have held high positions and enjoyed privileges for generations, so you think you are superior and look down on everyone. But you have forgotten that the Tang Dynasty was conquered by His Majesty and his soldiers, not the private property of your noble families!”

The nobles were speechless after hearing Wen He's words.

They had indeed underestimated Wen He, regarding him merely as a mere brat relying on the Emperor's favor.

Even now, they still look down on Wen He deep down, thinking he comes from a humble background.

"presumptuous!"

An impatient nobleman rolled up his sleeves, ready to step forward and teach Wen He a lesson, but was stopped by Wen He's cold gaze.

"This is the imperial palace, not your private courtyard. Are you sure you want to take action here?"

Wen He deliberately raised her voice and questioned him.

"If His Majesty is alarmed, guess whether he will punish me, this 'unruly child,' or you, this lawless person!"

The nobleman stopped abruptly, unsure whether to advance or retreat, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

Seeing this, the nobleman supporting Chu Liang quickly stepped forward to smooth things over.

"Don't get entangled with him! Get Scholar Chu to the imperial physician first, we can't afford to delay!"

These words were perfectly timed, both giving the nobleman a way out and pointing out the urgent matter at hand.

The nobleman snorted coldly, glared at Wen He fiercely, and took a step back in a huff.

A group of people surrounded Chu Liang and walked quickly past Wen He, their eyes filled with resentment.

They will remember this humiliation.

As Wen He watched their departing figures, she knew in her heart that she had completely broken ties with these noble families.

Since that's the case, he didn't mind saying a few more words so that these people would also be remembered in history.

"How tragic that Confucian scholars tirelessly pursue knowledge."

My eyes are getting dark from reading, and my hands are calloused from holding the pen.

It takes ten years to pass the imperial examination, and fame often comes late.

Even those who achieve high official positions often have temples streaked with gray.

The poem is full of compassion for students from poor families.

After years of hard study, their eyes were blurry and their hands were calloused. They could only pass the imperial examination once in ten attempts. Even if they were fortunate enough to become officials, their temples would already be gray.

Upon hearing these lines of poetry, many of the nobles who were hurrying towards the palace gates stopped and turned to look at Wen He's retreating figure, their faces mostly showing disdain.

"Hmph, is this country bumpkin trying to defend those poor students?"

One of the nobles scoffed, his tone full of disdain.

"His Majesty has already been lenient enough by giving those lowly people the opportunity to participate in the imperial examinations and enter the court. How dare they complain?"

"Exactly! We scions of noble families are born with titles and privileges, why do we have to suffer like them? Even if His Majesty hears these verses, what can he do? He'll only gain a few words of sympathy!"

Another nobleman echoed this sentiment.

They were plotting in their hearts that although Wen He had ruined things today, they would gather more nobles and ministers to put pressure on His Majesty during the court meeting two days later, and they were sure that His Majesty would punish Wen He.

Wen He seemed not to hear their mockery, and continued reciting, her voice growing lower and lower, yet each word clear:

"It is a pity that my youth was spent in poverty and hardship."

"My husband is old and sick, what use is wealth and status to him?"

These two lines of poetry perfectly capture the helplessness of students from impoverished families.

When I was young and strong, I was poor and could only bury myself in my studies.

When you finally get through the tough times, you'll be old and frail. What good will wealth and status do then?
After Gao Yue repeated these two lines of poetry to Li Shimin and the others, Xiao Yu let out a long sigh.

"They are indeed pitiful."

That was all; he didn't say another word.

In his view, being born into a lowly family was a matter of fate, and even if one was pitiful, it could not change the gap between the gentry and the poor.

This is a rule that has been followed for hundreds of years, and it cannot be easily broken by a poem or a person.

"It's just pointless complaining!"

A nobleman in a purple robe glanced at Wen He outside the hall, his tone full of contempt.

In their view, Wen He's previous recitation of the hardships of a poor family was nothing more than a "show of weakness" after he had nowhere else to turn.

He wanted to use a few lines of poetry to win His Majesty's sympathy and cover up his mistakes of insulting the old minister and provoking Chu Liang to the point of fainting.

The other nobles nodded in agreement, and some even sneered.

"A country bumpkin who's only read a few lines of literature dares to show off his skills in front of the palace gates, does he really think he's a literary master?"

They huddled around the unconscious Chu Liang, hoping to leave this awkward situation as quickly as possible, but unexpectedly, Wen He's voice suddenly rang out again, the content of the poem abruptly changing, like a sharp blade tempered with ice, piercing their sore spot:
"In the grand mansion of the wealthy, there lived a mere infant."

She had the appearance of a woman, with radiant, rich skin.

He neither carries books nor wears military uniform.

He inherited his title at the age of twenty, his family benefiting from his family's merits and connections.

Wen He's voice was not loud, but every word was precious and clear, reaching the ears of every nobleman.

The previously noisy palace gate fell silent instantly, and the next moment, a deafening roar erupted.

"Arrogant! How dare you, you brat!"

"Wen He! Are you trying to alienate yourself from the entire court?!"

Several nobles turned around abruptly, their fingers pointing at Wen He with veins bulging from their rage, their bloodshot eyes filled with a desire to devour him alive.

Why were they so furious? Because these few lines of poetry tore away their generations-old "fig leaf," showing no mercy whatsoever.

"In the grand mansion of the wealthy, there lived a mere infant."

The story begins by trampling on their proud "noble family" status.

Wen He actually dared to mock them for living in their deep mansion with its vermilion gates for generations, claiming to be of noble birth, when in fact most of their children were just wet-headed brats born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

In terms of talent, they are less than one-tenth as talented as students from poor families.

In terms of temperament, they are spoiled and arrogant, and may not even know basic manners.

They were called nothing more than ignorant children who relied on their family's protection and had not yet been weaned.

How could the nobles who took pride in their lineage tolerate this?

What made their blood boil even more was that "their appearance was like that of a woman, with radiant, rich skin."

The Tang Dynasty valued martial prowess, and men took pride in their bravery and fierceness.

But their children are pampered from childhood, eating rich and delicious food, wearing fine silks and satins, with skin as white as a powdered woman, and fingers so slender that they can't even hold a knife handle, and they can't even withstand the wind and sun.

How can this be considered mocking the appearance of the younger generation?
This is clearly an insinuation that they lack masculine responsibility.

As descendants of noble families, they could neither don armor and fight for the country like their ancestors, nor study diligently like scholars from humble backgrounds and share the burdens of the court.

She could only live as a delicate woman in a secluded mansion.

This is an insult to the entire noble class; it's an insult to them for losing the spirit of their ancestors!
The lines "Neither holding a book nor wearing military uniform" further cemented the label of being uneducated and incompetent on their heads.

Noble families always claimed to have a "family tradition of scholarship," but most of the children in their households were actually averse to studying.

If one refuses to hold a book, one cannot be expected to be well-versed in classics and history, to distinguish right from wrong, and may not even be able to understand basic memorials to the emperor.

Refusing to wear military uniform means shirking the responsibility of defending the country and forgetting that one's ancestors fought bloody battles on the battlefield to earn their current titles.

Wen He's every word was revealing a fact that they were trying their best to cover up.

They enjoyed the salaries and privileges of the Tang Dynasty, but were of no use to the country. They were nothing more than a group of "parasites" living off the achievements of their ancestors.

What they found most unbearable was the prospect of "inheriting a title at twenty and inheriting the family's wealth and status through meritorious service."

This is saying that their titles and official ranks were never earned by themselves, but were inherited through the merits of their ancestors.

The glory that their ancestors earned by risking their lives on the battlefield has become a "passport" for their descendants to reap without sowing.

At the age of twenty, one can inherit a title and become an official without having to take the imperial examination or have made military achievements. Simply by bearing the title of "descendant of a noble family," one can rise above poor students who have studied hard for ten years.

Wen He used these two lines of poetry to question him.

Why should someone be able to skip a lifetime of hard work just because of their birth?
Moreover, the Tang Dynasty has only just been founded, and you've already started to exploit us to the bone.

If these words were discussed in private, they could suppress them with their power, but Wen He actually used poetry to expose these shameful things in front of the palace gates, in full view of everyone.

What alarmed them even more was that everything Wen He said was true.

In Chang'an, how many sons of noble families inherited their titles at the age of twenty and spent their days in taverns and brothels, avoiding books and military uniforms?
Wen He's poem is not a slander, but rather it exposes their deliberately hidden family scandals to the light of day.

They lost face in front of their colleagues and under the palace walls, unable to even lift their heads.

"You...you country bumpkin, how dare you spread rumors and slander us!"

One of the nobles was so angry that his voice trembled, but he didn't even have the confidence to refute her.

His own son was just like that. He inherited the title of Light Cavalry Commandant at the age of twenty, but he couldn't even recite the opening chapter of "The Art of War". He only knew how to gamble and drink with his cronies every day. Last month, he even made a big joke in a brothel because of jealousy.

That's why he had to pay attention to his second son. To his delight, his second son did not disappoint him and actually passed the entrance exam for the Hongwen Academy.

Unexpectedly, he was imprisoned by that brat Wen He in the Hundred Cavalry.

But he was only facing his anger.

Wen He ignored him and continued reciting with her hands behind her back.

"Spring comes and the sun rises, how light and comfortable are our clothes and robes?"

"In the morning, he drinks with gamblers; in the evening, he visits brothels."

"To repay the debt for wine, I pile up gold to select beautiful women."

"Aside from sensual pleasures and extravagant lifestyles, he is completely ignorant of everything else."

These few sentences vividly depict the extravagance and ignorance of the young people.

In spring, they went out every day, dressed in the finest silks and brocades, riding in fine carriages and on precious steeds, and even their attendants wore silk.

In the morning, he would drink heavily with gamblers at a restaurant until he was completely drunk. In the evening, he would go to a brothel to seek pleasure, embracing beauties and singing and dancing until dawn.

He used the taxes from his fiefdom to pay off his enormous debt for wine and spent lavishly to select young and beautiful concubines.

Aside from indulging in sensual pleasures and extravagant lifestyles, he knew nothing about court affairs or the suffering of the people, and couldn't even answer the question about this year's harvest in Guanzhong.

The nobles blushed with embarrassment. Some lowered their heads, not daring to meet the eyes of others, while others gritted their teeth, clenching their fists until their knuckles turned white.

What Wen He was talking about was exactly the daily life of the children around them.

Some things were even more absurd than Wen He described. They wanted to refute him, but couldn't find a single reason, and could only let these verses lash their faces like whips.

When the phrase "mountain seedlings and stream pines, depending on the terrain" was finally uttered, the nobles' anger completely erupted.

In their eyes, Wen He compared them to mountain seedlings growing high up, able to grow freely because of their superior location, but lacking the qualities to become pillars of society, and only capable of being useless weeds.

Students from impoverished backgrounds are likened to pine trees growing in low-lying areas. Though they may have lofty ambitions and a sturdy texture suitable for building pillars, they are destined to remain subordinate to others and go unappreciated because they grow in such low-lying places.

This is tantamount to pointing fingers at them and accusing them of being unworthy of their positions.

"you you you……"

A white-haired nobleman pointed at Wen He, his lips trembling with anger. He couldn't catch his breath and staggered two steps, clutching his chest. Fortunately, the servant beside him caught him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground.

He pointed at Wen He, but couldn't utter a single complete sentence.

This poem, like a precise dagger, pierced through all their pretenses.

What they didn't know was that this poem was written by Bai Juyi a hundred years later.

The scions of aristocratic families at that time became even more extravagant and decadent.

Or perhaps the Tang Dynasty at that time had completely rotted away.

Wen He recited this poem, but not for their sake.

He wanted Li Shimin, who was in the Liangyi Hall at that moment, to hear this.

Hearing the helplessness of students from poor families, hearing the corruption of privileged nobles, and hearing that if a dynasty wants to maintain long-term stability, it must break the hereditary monopoly.

Chu Liang, who still retained a sliver of consciousness, suddenly let out a "wailing".

He coughed up another mouthful of blood.

Seeing this, the nobles didn't bother to argue with Wen He anymore and hurriedly took him to find the imperial physician.

If we don't go soon, I'm afraid this scholar from the Hongwen Academy will die.

Inside the Liangyi Hall, Gao Yue had already recited Wen He's subsequent verses to Li Shimin word for word.

When I hear the line, "Since ancient times, there has been nothing I can do but grieve; it is not you alone who is saddened,"

Li Shimin suddenly chuckled softly, his laughter carrying a complex meaning.

There is admiration for Wen He's courage, helplessness towards the privileges of aristocratic families, and a firm determination to break the deadlock.

Fang Xuanling and the others' expressions changed drastically, and they quickly stepped forward: "Your Majesty, although Wen He's poem is full of indignation, it is also too radical. It may provoke the dissatisfaction of the noble groups, which is not conducive to the stability of the court. Now that Chu Liang is in a coma, if we force the nobles to join forces to exert pressure, it may cause trouble!"

Li Shimin waved his hand, interrupting him.

"No need to say it."

He turned to Gao Yue and instructed her, "Go and tell Wen He not to be late for court in two days."

Wen He never attended court.

Li Shimin never urged him to hurry.

Today, he actually made a point of having Gao Yue remind him.

Upon hearing this, Changsun Wuji's heart stirred, and he subtly glanced at Fang Xuanling beside him.

After saying this, Li Shimin slowly stood up, his expression calm but carrying an invisible pressure.

"I am tired, let's call it a day. Oh, and after the imperial physicians have finished their examination, remember to report Chu Qing's condition to me in detail, so that nothing goes wrong."

Li Shimin's figure disappeared behind the inner hall door, leaving only Changsun Wuji, Xiao Yu, Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui in the Liangyi Hall.

The group stood in the empty hall, their gazes meeting, each filled with complex emotions.

"Lord Xiao, what happened today..."

Fang Xuanling broke the silence first, looking at Xiao Yu with a hint of probing in his voice.

He knew Xiao Yu's influence in the court. If he could get Xiao Yu to speak out on his behalf, he might be able to check Wen He in subsequent court discussions and give the nobles an explanation.

Before he could finish speaking, he saw Xiao Yu turn his head slightly, his eyes revealing obvious aloofness, clearly unwilling to get involved in the matter.

Fang Xuanling understood.

Xiao Yu had no children in the Hongwen Academy, and his descendants had never entered officialdom through family connections. The conflict between Wen He and the nobles had nothing to do with him.

More importantly, Xiao Yu's core interests subtly align with Wen He's.

Both men firmly supported the Crown Prince and hoped that he could successfully ascend the throne and solidify his position as the heir apparent of the Tang Dynasty.

For this reason, Xiao Yu would never offend Wen He, who was deeply trusted by His Majesty and had a close relationship with the Crown Prince, over a trivial dispute involving nobles.

“Xuanling.”

Xiao Yu gently interrupted Fang Xuanling, a hint of weariness on his face, and shook his head with a smile.

"I'm getting old. I stood in the hall for a long time, and suddenly I felt sleepy. It seems I'm really getting old and my energy is waning."

His words were both an excuse and a clear rejection, not giving Fang Xuanling another chance to speak.

After saying this, Xiao Yu nodded slightly to Du Ruhui and Changsun Wuji, then walked slowly out of the hall with his hands behind his back. His steps were steady, and he showed no sign of being "tired".

Fang Xuanling stood there, stunned, watching Xiao Yu's departing figure, speechless for a moment.

When he came to his senses, he turned to look at Du Ruhui.

Du Ruhui simply shook his head slightly, his voice very low: "This matter involves a wide range of issues. His Majesty's intentions are unclear, and Chu Liang is still ill. It is not appropriate to rush to a conclusion. Let's discuss it again in court in two days."

After saying this, Du Ruhui said no more and turned to leave.

He knew in his heart that the Emperor was behind Wen He, and the Emperor had clearly been angry just now.

Therefore, this matter requires further consideration.

We must not let His Majesty make up his mind because of this.

After he left, only Changsun Wuji and Fang Xuanling remained in the hall.

Fang Xuanling, however, seemed not to see Changsun Wuji at all. He glanced around the hall, straightened his official robes, and walked out of the hall on his own, without even giving him a look.

In the vast Liangyi Hall, only Changsun Wuji remained in an instant. In the empty hall, only his soft breathing could be heard.

Changsun Wuji stood there, watching the sunlight streaming in through the palace gate. The light gradually overlapped with Fang Xuanling's receding figure, blurring their outlines.

His hands, hidden in his wide sleeves, clenched tightly without him noticing, his knuckles turning white from the force, his nails almost digging into his flesh. A complex emotion welled up inside him.

In a daze, Changsun Wuji's thoughts drifted back to the day Wen He first entered the Prince of Qin's mansion.

"Changsun Wuji was full of schemes and plots, always thinking about comparing himself to Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui. On the surface, he pretended to be friendly with them, but after Fang Xuanling died, Changsun Wuji treated his son very badly..."

That day, he happened to be standing outside the small courtyard with Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui when Wen He's words reached his ears.

He immediately pushed open the door and entered, arguing sternly that Wen He was talking nonsense.

But only he knew that every word Wen He said was his true thought hidden deep in his heart.

He was indeed jealous of Fang Xuanling's reputation for virtue and Du Ruhui's wisdom, and he really wanted to surpass them on the list of merits in the Prince of Qin's mansion.

What bothered him even more was that Wen He might not know that Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui had never been truly loyal to His Majesty.

Before the Xuanwu Gate Incident, he went to see Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui late at night to persuade them to help him persuade the Prince of Qin to make a decision. However, the two of them made all sorts of excuses, saying only that they would "deliberate on the matter later".

At that moment, he was furious and scolded the two men on the spot for being "womanly and soft-hearted." In a fit of rage, he even punched Fang Xuanling in the chest, forcing the two men to nod in agreement.

From that moment on, Changsun Wuji knew that there was an insurmountable chasm between him and Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui, and that they could never truly be of one mind and one heart in this lifetime.

Fang Xuanling's disregard for him today is merely another manifestation of this chasm.

"Wen Jiaying is not so easy to deal with."

Changsun Wuji muttered to himself, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"I hope you guys don't end up with blood on your faces."

He was well aware of Wen He's methods.

He appears impulsive and reckless, but in reality, he is relentlessly pressing forward, and even His Majesty shows him considerable favoritism.

Fang Xuanling's insistence on opposing Wen He will likely only bring him trouble.

Meanwhile, on the palace path outside the Liangyi Hall, Fang Xuanling was walking slowly when he bumped into Wen He, who was waiting there.

The two locked eyes, and the air seemed to freeze instantly.

Wen He raised an eyebrow, a hint of anticipation rising in her heart.

He was hoping that Fang Xuanling would provoke him now, so that he could take advantage of the situation if Fang Xuanling made the first move.

But Fang Xuanling was much calmer than he had imagined.

This veteran minister, who had served three emperors, simply looked at Wen He quietly, his eyes filled with complex emotions—anger and wariness—but he showed no sign of wanting to lash out.

A moment later, he said nothing, only gave a soft hum, then walked past Wen He and left.

Wen He looked at Fang Xuanling's back, somewhat surprised, but then felt bored.

This old fox is much harder to deal with than those impulsive nobles.

Not long after, Gao Yue rushed out of the hall, walked up to Wen He, and bowed.

"Your Excellency of Gaoyang County, His Majesty has decreed that you must attend the court meeting on time in two days. Do not be late."

Upon hearing the words "court meeting," Wen He felt a headache coming on and asked reluctantly.

"Can I not go? Those nobles don't like me and they'll gang up on me in court. I don't want to listen to their nonsense."

Gao Yue gave a wry smile and shook her head helplessly.

"Prince, His Majesty specifically instructed you not to be late. You should understand what that means, right?"

Although he didn't say it explicitly, the meaning in his tone couldn't be clearer.

His Majesty has made up his mind; there is no room for discussion, and Wen He must go.

Wen He pursed her lips, feeling utterly helpless.

For him, going to the imperial court to argue with those nobles was far less enjoyable than staying at the Hundred Cavalry Commandery to oversee Su Dingfang and the others' training.

At least the sweat on the training ground doesn't lie; the soldiers' strength is forged through real training, unlike the court, which is full of deceit and scheming.

He gently shook his head, looking towards the direction of the Liangyi Hall, and suddenly felt that Li Shimin might be even more frustrated than he was at this moment.

As the emperor, he could see those nobles jumping around in front of him, even resorting to coup d'état to maintain their privileges, yet he still had to consider the balance of the court and could not deal with them as he pleased.

The only way to deal with them is to persuade them with reason and gradually work things out.

"Perhaps this is the difficulty of being an emperor. The so-called balance, in the end, is about exchanging one's own will for the stability of the court."

Wen He muttered to herself, suddenly feeling a bit clearer in her mind.

Even Li Shimin had to compromise in some situations, so why should he be so fixated on momentary pleasure?

However, it is also time to let these ancient people who have enjoyed privileges for generations know what it means for "a single spark to start a prairie fire".

Having figured this out, Wen He stopped worrying and turned to walk towards the Hundred Riders Division, her steps lighter than when she came.

Meanwhile, the Chu family mansion in Henan was shrouded in chaos.

In the main hall.

Chu Liang leaned against the soft couch, his face more rosy than when he was in the palace, but his lips were still frighteningly pale.

"Where is Wen He? Where is Wen He?!"

He had just drunk the medicine prepared by the imperial physician, and the bitter taste of the medicine still lingered in his throat. Upon seeing this, the nobles standing in the room secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

If Chu Liang were to get into trouble, the connections between these noble families and gentry would likely be severed by more than half.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he woke up, he called out Wen He's name.

"Ximing, you mustn't mention that brat again."

A nobleman dressed in a scarlet official robe stepped forward, his tone carrying a hint of consolation.

"The most important thing right now is to take care of your health. The Hongwen Academy can't do without you, and His Majesty also needs your help. If you fall ill, it will be difficult for our descendants to enter the Hongwen Academy in the future."

These words are not false.

Most of the nobles present came from Guanzhong or Shandong aristocratic families, and they were already somewhat estranged from other aristocratic families. It was only through Chu Liang's mediation that they were able to resolve the conflict.

Although Chu Liang was born into the Chu family of Henan, he had deep ties with the Yang family of Hongnong and the Xue family of Hedong. Back when he was in the Prince of Qin's mansion, he was a key figure in winning over nobles for Li Shimin.

It was precisely for this reason that Li Shimin valued him so highly.

Now that he is a scholar of the Hongwen Academy, he naturally wants to return the favor.

If Chu Liang had gotten into trouble, and someone else had taken over the Hongwen Academy, they might not have been as lenient as he was.

At that time, their descendants will probably find it difficult to have such an easy opportunity to enter officialdom again.

But Chu Liang seemed not to heed the advice. His eyes widened suddenly, his breathing became rapid, and he pointed in the direction outside the palace, shouting emotionally.

"That scoundrel Wen He must not be allowed to live! The poem he recited in the palace was meant to sever the foundation of our aristocratic families!"

"He absolutely cannot stay in Chang'an!"

Although he had been unconscious for a moment in the palace, Wen He's subsequent verses had reached his ears without missing a single word.

"In the grand mansion of red gates, there dwells a mere infant."

"At twenty, they inherited their titles and titles, their families benefiting from their family's merits and connections."

Every word felt like a needle piercing his heart.

He knew better than anyone that if these words were spread, scholars from humble backgrounds and ordinary people across the land would surely regard them, these noble families, as "tigers, leopards, and wolves" who oppressed the good and kind.

At that point, their reputations will likely be completely ruined.

"Quickly! Send someone to spread the word!"

Chu Liang sat up abruptly, ignoring the imperial physician's advice, his voice hoarse with urgency.

"Just say... just say, talk about him..."

Before he could finish speaking, Chu Liang suddenly felt a tightness in his chest, as if a huge rock was pressing down on him, and his breathing became difficult.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but only felt a sweet taste in his throat, and then "poof".

Another mouthful of blood spurted from his mouth, splattering onto the brocade bedding in front of him, the crimson color glaringly bright.

Immediately afterwards, Chu Liang's head lolled to the side, his eyes closed, and he fainted again.

"Ximing!"

"Scholar Chu!"

The nobles inside the room panicked and rushed forward, some reaching out to check Chu Liang's breath, while others shouted towards the door.

"Quickly! Go and fetch the imperial physician again! Scholar Chu has fainted again!"

In an instant, the Chu residence was filled with noise, and the already tense atmosphere became even more chaotic.

The nobles looked at Chu Liang, who was lying unconscious on the soft couch, and their faces were extremely grim.

Wen He's poem had driven Chu Liang to this point.

If this matter were to spread, these nobles would likely become a laughingstock, and His Majesty would become even more dissatisfied with them.

"That Wen He is a real jinx!"

One of the nobles said through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with hatred.

"At the court meeting in two days, we must unite more people and make sure His Majesty severely punishes this boy, otherwise the consequences will be dire!"

The others nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with determination.

They had no way out. If they couldn't bring down Wen He, their children would likely have difficulty entering the Hongwen Academy in the future.

On the training ground of the Hundred Cavalry Division.

The blazing sun hung in the sky like a fireball, scorching the ground and making the air seem distorted from the heat.

No one expected that the weather would be so hot so soon after the start of spring.

Wen He didn't care at all. He was leaning back in a wicker chair under the shade of a tree, holding a bowl of warm mutton soup in his hand, the aroma spreading with the breeze.

An occasional cool breeze would blow by, wiping away the thin layer of sweat on my forehead, which was much more comfortable than dealing with those nobles in the Liangyi Hall.

Not far away, Su Dingfang was leading a team of 100 knights in obstacle course practice.

The soldiers were all wearing heavy black iron armor weighing over ten kilograms. The armor plates gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and each step they took made a soft clanging sound.

Sweat streamed down their faces, soaking their inner garments and leaving large, dark stains on their backs, yet not one of them slowed their pace.

"What are you doing! Running so slowly, didn't you eat lunch?!"

A weathered old soldier, holding a long stick, paced back and forth beside the obstacle course, shouting at the soldiers who had fallen behind.

"Even the old turtles in Qujiang Pool can run faster than you! If you slow down any further, you can forget about dinner tonight!"

Another veteran chimed in.

"Show some spirit, all of you! We are His Majesty's personal guard. If we can't even endure this little bit of hardship, how will we protect His Majesty in the future!"

The soldiers were scolded until their faces turned red, but no one argued back; they just gritted their teeth and quickened their pace.

The last section of the obstacle course was a steep slope. Several exhausted soldiers staggered, but still helped each other climb up.

Wen He watched this scene with a slight smile on her lips.

He initially advocated for increasing the training intensity of the Hundred Cavalry so that this personal guard would truly possess the strength to "take on ten men each".

"Xiao Langjun."

A slightly reserved voice came from inside, and Wen He knew it was Zhang Wenxiao without even opening her eyes.

Wen He closed her eyes and gave a soft "hmm" to signal him to continue.

Zhang Wenxiao quickly moved closer, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously.

"Biaoxia has already told Meng Zhou, Zhao Lei, and Wu Sheng about the Hongwen Academy students trespassing into the examination hall and the nobles trying to obtain special privileges, as instructed by the young master. Fan Biao has also stayed there to assist them and ensure that the news reaches more scholars from humble backgrounds."

When he said this, there was a hint of self-satisfaction on his face, clearly indicating that he felt he had handled things very well.

Wen He yawned and slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell on his face, casting a languid yet alert expression.

"How did the three of them react after hearing this?"

"Those three scholars were filled with righteous indignation at the time, slamming their fists on the table and saying that the nobles were too domineering and even wanted to destroy the fairness of the imperial examination!"

Zhang Wenxiao replied with a smile.

"Judging from their situation, even if you, young master, don't give the order, they will definitely be outraged if they find out about this on their own, and they might even take the initiative to contact other scholars."

"will not."

Wen He shook her head, stood up from the rattan chair, stretched out her arms and legs, and her bones made a slight "crackling" sound.

He walked to the edge of the training ground, looked towards the distant city of Chang'an, and spoke with a hint of understanding.

"Scholars are indecisive... It takes them ten years to accomplish anything. They are the most indecisive people. If no one pushes them from behind, they wouldn't even dare to have such a thought, let alone rebel against the nobles."

Zhang Wenxiao was taken aback for a moment, and asked with some confusion,

“Young master, do those poor scholars and commoners not know about the privileges and quotas that nobles and officials have? They have studied hard for so many years, just to get ahead in the imperial examinations.”

"Of course they know."

Wen He turned around and looked at Zhang Wenxiao, her eyes filled with a complex expression.

"They know even better than we imagined which sons of noble families could easily enter officialdom without real talent, and which positions were secretly controlled by powerful families. They are as clear as day in their minds."

He paused and continued.

"But what good is knowing? They dare not speak out, nor dare they resist. It's like burying their heads in the sand; as long as they pretend not to see or hear, they feel that the injustices have nothing to do with them, and they can continue living their lives."

"They were afraid of offending the nobles, afraid of being retaliated against, and afraid that their years of hard work would be in vain, so they would rather swallow their anger than stand up and say 'injustice'."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Wenxiao suddenly smiled slyly.

"So, young man, you lit a fire."

Wen He smiled and exhaled a long breath.

Two days later.

Outside the Sanwei Study in Chang'an City.

"Gentlemen, what have we been studying for all these years? Isn't it to serve our country and our people?"

"But now, those people, relying on the glory of their fathers, have destroyed the fairness that was given to us. Think of your expectant parents, your wives and children, are we just going to stand by and watch those people take away everything that should have been ours?"

In the teahouse, Meng Zhou was filled with righteous indignation.

On the street, first came dozens of scholars they had secretly contacted, and later came people who came to buy books.

Later, they came after hearing rumors.

"I know that we were born into humble circumstances. Since the Nine-Rank System of the Wei and Jin Dynasties, the upper ranks have no poor families and the lower ranks have no commoners. The powerful families occupy high positions and control the court. This is why there are so many people who bring disaster to the country and the people, and why the rise and fall of dynasties is so frequent!"

“Those people said we were like pigs and dogs, peasants, unworthy to ascend to the high temple.”

"But just yesterday, I personally heard a young man's deafening voice."

He wrote a poem.

At this point, Meng Zhou deliberately paused.

Those who had gathered around all cast curious glances at him.

"In the morning a peasant, in the evening an official in the emperor's court!"

"Nobility is not inherited; a man should strive for it himself!"

Meng Zhou almost screamed hysterically.

The surroundings fell into a deathly silence.

All the poor and commoner scholars held their breath in awe.

At that moment, they felt as if something was burning inside them.

Most of the people here today are laymen who are looked down upon by those from high-ranking families.

But he still wanted to prove himself by participating in the imperial examination with great enthusiasm.

However, whenever people from high-ranking families saw them, they would ridicule them without restraint.

They are delusional.

Some people truly accepted their fate, so they became minor officials.

Some people went home in a daze and never studied again.

Some people are still studying hard, but they can't see any hope.

But today, someone told them!
Nobility is not inherited; a man should strive for it!
Just then, Wu Sheng from the crowd asked loudly, "May I ask, sir, who wrote this poem that is so profound and thought-provoking?"

This was naturally arranged by Wen He.

Meng Zhou then seized the opportunity and shouted.

"This poem was written by the magistrate of Gaoyang County the other day when he was questioned by people from the Hongwen Academy. He then composed this masterpiece. Now, in order to uphold justice for us, he is being interrogated in the court by those mediocre people."

"Those people disregard all scholars and the laws of the court. Now they are pressuring His Majesty and interrogating the magistrate of Gaoyang County right here in the court. Gentlemen, we have studied the classics diligently. Are we just going to stand by and watch those disloyal and unjust people seize power in the court?"

Meng Zhou's voice had become somewhat hoarse.

Just then, a tall, burly man in a scholar's robe suddenly roared from the crowd.

"If I am a man, then I will go to the Vermilion Bird Gate to plead for His Majesty and seek justice for the scoundrel of Gaoyang County!"

The people who had been arranged to do so immediately shouted in unison.

In the small city of Dongshi, the crowd was instantly agitated.

(End of this chapter)