Tang Dynasty: Feeding Chang Le, Emperor Li Er exclaimed that she was a true immortal!

Li Shimin did not answer that question.

Because his mind was still buzzing.

The image of that mushroom cloud seemed to have been branded into his optic nerve with a hot iron, and it would appear whenever he closed his eyes.

He leaned against the screen, his knuckles white, his knees bent at a very small angle—not quite kneeling, but the closest he had ever come to kneeling in his life.

The bedchamber remained quiet for a long time.

Chang Le wondered if her father had been frightened into madness.

Then--

Li Shimin's breathing changed.

From hurried and chaotic, it became deep, long, and heavy.

Like a trapped beast that has been lurking in the darkness for a long time, finally smelling the scent of breaking free from its cage.

He slowly straightened up.

The hand that had been resting on the screen loosened.

Five deep indentations left by fingertips are embedded in the silk fabric.

He raised his head.

Cold sweat still clung to his temples, but his eyes had changed.

It's not fear.

The fear has passed.

Instead, a light that was unfamiliar to Chang Le was revealed.

greedy.

Extreme, undisguised greed.

And a kind of almost manic excitement.

Li Shimin stared at the black-screened tablet computer, his chest heaving violently.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down several times, as if he were swallowing something stuck in his throat.

"You said...you have tens of thousands of these?"

He spoke.

His voice was hoarse, with an abnormal tremor.

It's not fear.

It's craving.

Lu Ming leaned back in his chair, raised an eyebrow, and didn't reply.

Li Shimin's breathing became heavier.

His eyes darted around rapidly in their sockets, like a machine running at its limit, performing frantic calculations.

If this power—even if it's only one ten-thousandth—could be used by the Tang Dynasty.

Turks?

Ashes.

Tibet?

no longer exists.

Goguryeo?

It can be broken with a flick of the finger.

The whole world—no, the whole world—

"Mr. Lu!"

Li Shimin suddenly stepped forward.

This time, he did not draw his sword, nor did he put on any imperial airs.

His form of address changed from "Who are you?" to "Mr. Lu".

The transition was so natural, so smooth, so inevitable.

Because he was Li Shimin.

The man who is best at assessing the situation in the world.

When you face someone wielding world-destroying power with a broken bronze sword, your only correct choice is—

Put down the knife and offer a smile.

"Mr. Lu, I have something to say, but I'm not sure if I should."

His tone even carried a hint of caution.

The sight of such cautiousness on the face of a great emperor throughout history was so incongruous it sent chills down one's spine.

Lu Ming watched his changing expression and sneered inwardly.

really.

An emperor is an emperor.

From extreme fear to extreme fanaticism, there is only one word in between: "profit".

"explain."

Li Shimin licked his chapped lips.

"My Great Tang Dynasty has a vast territory and a million soldiers. But compared to where you are, it is nothing but a barbaric land. I know my own inadequacy."

He paused, organizing his thoughts.

"Since you have a connection with Chang Le, sir, you are a noble person of the Tang Dynasty. I am willing to use the entire nation's resources to support you. Gold, silver, jewels, rare animals—whatever you desire, I will provide. Even—"

He lowered his voice even further.

"If you are willing, sir, I may appoint you as the Imperial Preceptor. Your position will be above the Three Dukes and second only to the Emperor—"

"Alright."

Lu Ming interrupted him.

The sound wasn't loud, but Li Shimin immediately shut his mouth.

It felt like someone had pressed the pause button.

Lu Ming stood up from his chair.

This was the first time he had stood up that night.

His 1.83-meter height cast a long shadow under the white light of the LED lights.

He walked to the front of the light screen, with only that invisible barrier separating him from Li Shimin.

The distance is less than an arm's length.

"Li Shimin".

He addressed him by his first name.

There is no "Your Majesty".

There is no "Your Majesty".

It's just three straightforward words.

In the Tang Dynasty, uttering these three words was a capital offense, punishable by death.

But Li Shimin did not get angry.

Because he couldn't muster any anger.

That video just now completely stripped him of his confidence.

How dare you demand that others call you Your Majesty when you are in the presence of someone who possesses the power to destroy the world?

"I am not your subject."

Lu Ming looked at him directly.

"He is not your sorcerer, not your imperial advisor, nor a tool that you can buy with money."

"Stop trying to disgust me with your emperor-like tricks of weighing pros and cons. What gold and silver, what official titles and ranks? Where I'm from, gold is sold by the ton. Your throne isn't even worth as much as a village chief."

Every word was like a knife.

It's not a knife used to cut into meat.

It's boneless.

They sliced ​​off piece by piece, close to the bone.

Li Shimin's face turned pale and then flushed.

His self-esteem was being crushed.

But his reason told him to endure.

We must endure it.

Because what the other party said was true.

In a world where mushroom clouds can be created, gold is indeed worthless.

For someone who could conjure up refined salt in a single day and crush powerful clans, official positions in the Tang Dynasty were indeed worthless.

Seeing the alternating paleness and flush on his face, Lu Ming knew that the time was almost right.

He didn't continue to trample on them to death.

Because he is not a pervert.

He's just setting the rules.

"I help the Tang Dynasty, not for your gold and silver, nor for your power."

Lu Ming turned around and glanced at Chang Le, who was huddled in the corner.

The girl wearing his hoodie was curled up on a low stool, her hands tightly clasped together, her face filled with tension and worry.

She feared that Lu Ming and her father would completely break off relations.

She feared becoming the one crushed in the clash between the two forces.

Lu Ming's gaze lingered on her for a second.

Then he turned back to face Li Shimin.

He raised his right index finger and pointed in the direction of Chang Le.

"I'm helping the Tang Dynasty because she's standing here."

Li Shimin's gaze unconsciously followed his finger to his daughter.

Chang Le stiffened for a moment when she was simultaneously locked onto by two gazes.

"She asked me to save her life, and I did. She asked me to help her break off her engagement, and I did. I haven't done anything she didn't ask me to do."

Lu Ming withdrew his finger.

"So don't try to use your imperial tactics to scheme against me and her. My rules are very simple—"

His voice suddenly turned somber.

It sank to a point where even the air became viscous.

"As long as Chang Le is here, I will help the Great Tang. If she is doing well, the Great Tang will be doing well."

"If she sheds even a single tear—"

Lu Ming's gaze returned to Li Shimin's face.

That look wasn't one of anger.

It's not a threat.

It is an absolute, non-negotiable notification.

"Your Taiji Palace will cease to exist tomorrow."

The bedchamber fell silent.

It was completely quiet.

Li Shimin stood still.

His lips moved a few times, but no sound came out.

Because in that instant, he saw something in Lu Ming's eyes.

It wasn't murderous intent.

He'd seen plenty of murderous intent; it wasn't anything new to him.

It's serious.

That kind of seriousness is more terrifying than any murderous intent.

Because someone who possesses the power to destroy the world earnestly tells you, "I will destroy your palace."

That's not a threat.

That was a preview.

Li Shimin slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

He glanced back at Chang Le.

His daughter sat on a low stool, her hoodie hood askew, revealing her pale and nervous little face.

But her eyes were on Lu Ming.

That look in his eyes—

Li Shimin was very familiar with it.

That's the look Empress Zhangsun gave him back then.

He closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened his eyes again, the greed and fanaticism in them had mostly subsided.

Instead, there was an emotion so complex it was impossible to describe.

As an emperor, he wanted to keep Lu Ming bound to the chariot of the Tang Dynasty, never letting go.

As a father—

He saw his daughter's heart.

"……good."

Li Shimin spoke.

The sound was very soft.

It was not the voice of an emperor speaking to his subjects.

It sounds more like a father's sigh after making a difficult decision.

"I agree."

He bent down and picked up the Emperor's Sword from the ground.

The broken blade reflected a fragmented light under the lamp.

He sheathed his sword.

"Chang Le is my most beloved child. I will not let her shed a tear."

He paused for a moment.

"But I have one condition."

Lu Ming remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

Li Shimin looked at him.

After suffering so many blows, the emperor's pride finally ignited a last spark from the ruins.

"Since you say you're helping the Tang Dynasty, then help it to the end. I want to see the Tang Dynasty become the kind of world you described—a world where gold is sold by the ton."

Lu Ming looked at him.

There was a two-second silence.

Then the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

It's very shallow.

But he did laugh.

"OK."