A live-streamed Chinese language lesson under the sky—the ancients were taken aback.

"Let's look at the first song, 'The Ballad of the War Chariots'."

This poem was written in the tenth year of the Tianbao era, before the An Lushan Rebellion broke out.

But the shadow of war had long loomed over the empire.

Du Fu witnessed the conscription process firsthand outside Chang'an.

The scene shows a group of new recruits assembling.

The young men wore ill-fitting military uniforms; some were only fifteen or sixteen years old, their faces still showing childishness, but their eyes were already dull.

Their parents were crying and shouting by the roadside, while their wives were running after the procession with their children in their arms.

An old woman grabbed her son's hand and wouldn't let go, but a soldier pushed her away with the butt of his spear.

She fell to the ground, struggling to crawl forward, calling out her son's name.

Her son turned around and glanced at her, then was swept away by the crowd and disappeared into the dust.

"The carriages rumbled, the horses neighed, and the travelers carried bows and arrows at their waists. Parents, wives, and children saw them off, but the dust obscured the Xianyang Bridge. They tugged at their clothes, stamped their feet, and blocked the road, weeping, their cries reaching the heavens."

After finishing reading these four lines, he paused for a moment.

"Xianyang Bridge was a temporary bridge over the Wei River outside Chang'an City. Poets of the Tang Dynasty would break off willow branches to bid farewell, drink and sing here. But in Du Fu's poem, there is no singing at Xianyang Bridge, only weeping."

"This poem exposes the first hidden danger of the Tang Dynasty before the An Lushan Rebellion: its excessive military spending."

These protracted wars brought utter devastation to ordinary farming families. Men were conscripted into the army, land was left uncultivated, yet taxes continued to be levied, causing the rural economy to collapse from its very foundation.

"But that's just the surface." He continued, then changed the subject, "The most amazing part of 'The Ballad of the War Chariots' is what comes next; let's look at this sentence."

"It is believed that giving birth to a son is bad, while giving birth to a daughter is good. A daughter can still marry a neighbor, while a son is buried and forgotten among the weeds."

"This statement, if placed in any era in ancient China, would be a complete subversion of traditional concepts."

The voice, which had been hesitant to speak, grew heavy. "Since the Zhou Dynasty, Chinese society has promoted the preference for men over women because men are the labor force, the source of soldiers, and the foundation for the continuation of the clan."

But Du Fu says here: Now I know that having a boy is a bad thing, and having a girl is a good thing.

Why? Because daughters can still marry into neighboring villages, so their parents will have someone to rely on when they get old.

The son was born, grew up, was conscripted, and buried in the wilderness of the border region; even his body could not be found.

"Note the word he used, 'buried,' not 'died in battle,' not 'killed in action,' but 'buried,' disappearing silently into the weeds."

What does this show? It shows that war has become a meaningless war of attrition, where soldiers die without honor, without record, without mourning, as naturally as a blade of grass being trampled into the mud by a horse's hooves.

(In ancient times, ordinary people, regardless of gender, were considered resources and tools. The reason for the preference for men over women was not because people liked the male gender, but because men were more useful as tools than women. In ancient times, where the living environment was harsh, men's violent resources were more important.)

In the scene, the desolate frontier is indeed only covered with weeds.

One blade of grass after another, bending down and straightening up again in the wind, with something possibly buried beneath each blade of grass.

"So we have to ask a question: Did the Tang Dynasty really need to fight so many wars? Why did it keep conscripting soldiers, conscripting soldiers, conscripting soldiers?"

Du Fu didn't say it directly in his poem; he used a very risky metaphor.

The words on the sky continued to emerge.

"Blood flows like the sea on the frontier, yet the Emperor's ambition to expand the borders remains unfulfilled."

He paused for a moment, seemingly wanting to say something but unable to: "Emperor Wu, on the surface, refers to Emperor Wu of Han. Emperor Wu of Han expanded the territory and waged wars, which led to the population of the country being halved in his later years."

However, Du Fu wrote this poem during the Tianbao era of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, and he dared not directly write "Xuanzong's ambition to expand the borders has not yet been satisfied," so he used the past to satirize the present.

Everyone who has read the poem knows who this "Emperor Wu" is.

"In his later years, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang waged war against the Tubo and Nanzhao kingdoms year after year."

In the tenth year of the Tianbao era, Xianyu Zhongtong led an army of 80,000 to conquer Nanzhao, but the entire army was wiped out.

In the thirteenth year of the Tianbao era, Yang Guozhong launched another campaign against Nanzhao. He sent Li Mi with an army of 70,000, but the entire army was wiped out.

The two wars against Nanzhao resulted in the loss of over 100,000 able-bodied men.

This was only one aspect of the Nanzhao Kingdom's history. Adding the wars against the Tubo and the Khitan, the border wars in the late Tianbao era were like a giant meat grinder, devouring the lives of countless ordinary people.

"Another key word in this poem is 'meaning'."

"The intention has not yet ceased," meaning the subjective desire has not stopped. The reason the court continues to conscript soldiers is not because of urgent border troubles or because enemy countries have reached their doorstep, but because the emperor is ambitious and fond of military exploits.

The scene shifts from the border to Chang'an, focusing on a brightly lit palace. Seated in the palace is a middle-aged man in a yellow robe, slightly plump with a full, round face—Emperor Xuanzong of Tang during the Tianbao era.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang during the Kaiyuan era was indeed a wise and enlightened ruler.

But by the time of the Tianbao era, he had grown old.

He was infatuated with Yang Guifei, indulged in pleasure, and handed over state affairs to powerful and treacherous officials such as Li Linfu and Yang Guozhong.

These prime ministers needed military achievements to consolidate their power and needed to expand to the frontier to satisfy the emperor's vanity. Therefore, the generals on the frontier constantly launched wars to sustain themselves and to seek official positions through warfare.

Inside the Taiji Hall, Li Shimin's gaze suddenly narrowed.

It's not that he doesn't understand.

He fought in wars and explored border regions when he was young.

But he was the one who personally led his troops to the front lines, and he knew the cost of every battle.

The younger generation that Tianmu is talking about now sits in the deep palace, not even knowing which direction the battlefield is, yet he lets the blood of the people flow like a sea for the sake of face.

Upon hearing the phrase "Emperor Wu's ambition to expand the borders is not yet satisfied," Fang Xuanling suddenly coughed.

Wei Zheng stared intently at the sky, his lips moved slightly, and he spoke in a very low voice: "...Where are the remonstrating ministers?"

"Next, let's look at the second poem, 'A Five-Hundred-Word Poem Written on the Way from the Capital to Fengxian County'."

This poem was written in November of the fourteenth year of the Tianbao era. At that time, An Lushan had already raised an army in Fanyang, but the news had not yet reached Chang'an. Du Fu was returning from Chang'an to Fengxian to visit relatives, passing by Mount Li.

The video shows two completely different scenes.

Above is the warm pavilion of Huaqing Palace, brightly lit, filled with singing and dancing, and where wine cups are clinked.

Below lies the desolate wilderness at the foot of Mount Li, amidst a blizzard. An old man lies by the roadside, covered in a thin layer of snow.

The two scenes are separated by a vermilion gate.

Du Fu wrote at the foot of Mount Li: "Behind the vermilion gates, meat and wine go to waste; on the road, the bones of those frozen to death lie."

This line of poetry needs no explanation.