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

In the first year of the Tian Shou reign of the Wu Zhou dynasty, the Yingxian Palace was established.

Although Wu Zetian had only recently ascended the throne and was very busy with state affairs, she never missed the opportunity to see the celestial canopy.

She sat upright on the dragon throne, holding a memorial she had just finished reviewing.

Behind him was a huge map of the world, stretching from the Four Garrisons of Anxi to the coast of the East China Sea, from the northern grasslands to Jiaozhi County, covering the vast land.

Her gaze fell on Fanyang on the map, the place from which An Lushan would raise his army.

Today's discussion on the demise of the aristocratic clans, the flames of the An Lushan Rebellion, and the subsequent hundred years of warlord conflicts, all destroyed the aristocratic clans of the north that had lasted for hundreds of years.

When Wu Zetian heard that "Huang Chao delivered the final blow," she laughed.

She recalled how many years she had been cursed by these aristocratic families for trying to suppress them by promoting the imperial examination system and elevating those from humble backgrounds.

Now the sky tells her that these grand families, which had stood for hundreds of years, were cut down piece by piece by war and refugees.

She felt no pity, only an unspoken thought: You've all met your match.

The curtain of light continued to fall, but her thoughts had already shifted to something else.

An Lushan, Fanyang, the powerful border towns, the nominal existence of the local militia, and the central government being empty with no troops available—these words appeared one by one in her mind.

She picked up her vermilion brush and wrote a few lines on a blank edict: "The Ministry of War shall investigate the powers and responsibilities of the various border governors and the generals of the army. Border generals who have served in a prefecture for three years shall be rotated to the capital. The troop rosters of all circuits shall be reviewed and reported to the Ministry of War every year."

The hidden dangers that Tianmu mentioned had already been sown during the reigns of Emperor Taizong and Emperor Gaozong. She didn't have time to eradicate them all, but at least she could put the power of the border towns in a cage while she was in power.

Young Li Longji stood outside the palace.

He is the third son of Prince Xiang, Li Dan, and is five years old this year. According to the rules, he should not be here.

Today is the first day of the lunar month, and all members of the royal family must enter the palace to pay their respects.

He knelt in the last row, secretly raised his head, and saw the words on the sky: An Lushan Rebellion.

He didn't know An Lushan or what the An Lushan Rebellion was, but he saw the word "rebellion" and the terrified faces of his uncle and cousins ​​in the crowd.

After the morning celebrations ended, he was left behind alone.

When the palace maid led him into the side hall, Wu Zetian was standing by the window, gazing in the direction where the sky had disappeared.

Hearing his footsteps, she turned around and smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

She beckoned Li Longji over and said, "Poor child."

"Sit down. Just listen to what they're saying on the sky. You're too young to understand. Maybe you'll understand when you grow up."

She didn't say the second half of her sentence, and perhaps you'll never understand, because you'll never be the Emperor Xuanzong of Tang who plunged the empire into the abyss.

She knew all too well what power was all about. The sky laid bare the causes and consequences of the An Lushan Rebellion before everyone. Li Longji was named as the future culprit, his name was tied to those bloody numbers. Who would support a person predicted to be a tyrant to ascend the throne?

Looking at her young grandson, she suddenly felt a little sorry for him, but that was all.

She didn't kill him; she just patted his head, like an ordinary grandmother would treat an ordinary grandson.

Li Longji returned.

The hall fell silent again, and Shangguan Wan'er emerged from behind the screen, holding a stack of newly arranged memorials.

She stood there the whole time, from the moment Li Longji entered the palace until he left, she heard everything.

Wu Zetian did not turn around, but watched Li Longji's small figure disappear outside the palace gate, and then suddenly spoke.

"Even if he were to ascend the throne by sheer force, the whole world would be watching and scorning him, waiting for him to make a mistake and for the prophecies of the heavens to come true." Wu Zetian scoffed, "Just like I am now."

Shangguan Wan'er remained silent, knowing that His Majesty did not need to answer.

"Among the articles that criticize me, there is one that is the best written, by Luo Binwang, whose 'Proclamation Against Wu Zetian' is the most scathing in its criticism of me."

He said, "Elegant women are unwilling to yield to others," and "Seductive women can bewitch the emperor." Listen to that! "Elegant women are unwilling to yield to others"—he's insulting me, but to me, it sounds like he's praising me.

Shangguan Wan'er lowered her head slightly, "Your Majesty's magnanimity is beyond the reach of ordinary people."

Wu Zetian turned her head and glanced at her, her smile deepening.

"You don't need to flatter me. No matter how well he writes, he's still using a man's standards to criticize me."

A man becoming emperor is the will of Heaven, while a woman becoming emperor is a demon descending to earth.

Men who kill are considered wise and decisive; women who kill are considered vicious and cruel.

Who decides these rights and wrongs? It's the men who decide.

They say you're right not because you did anything right, but because you did what they wanted.

They say you're wrong, not because you did anything wrong, but because you're a woman.

She paused, her voice turning cold, "I don't need to care what they say, I only need to care about whether I can hold onto this throne."

Shangguan Wan'er remained silent for a moment, then gently placed the memorials in her hand on the table. "Your Majesty, these are the memorials impeaching you today, a total of twenty-seven."

Wu Zetian glanced at the stack of memorials, picked up her vermilion brush again, and said, "Put it there."

She opened the top page, her pen never stopping.

Less than a year after ascending the throne, her desk was piled high with memorials impeaching her for "being a hen crowing at dawn." She didn't care, but everyone who opposed her had to disappear from the court.

Her gaze swept over the newly drafted edict and then fell back on Fanyang on the map.

Before the curtain of heaven spoke of how the Grand Canal, left behind by Emperor Yang of Sui, became the lifeline of the Tang Dynasty. She listened, finding it all quite interesting.

She had gone to great lengths to seize the empire from the Li family, but in the end, she still had to rely on the legacy left by the former emperor who had lost his country to prolong her life.

Time really does change a lot of things.

She had seen too many dead people in her life, and every dead person told her the same thing: merit and demerit are determined by the living, and the dead have no say in it.

As for her merits and demerits, only future generations can determine them; she cannot see them, but she is not in a hurry.

Wu Zetian looked up at the now tranquil sky; things had changed in later generations.