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

Xianyang Palace.

The bronze lamp in the hall had been burning for most of the night, but the oil was almost gone, and the flame had shrunk to the size of a soybean, teetering precariously on the wick.

The rain outside the window has stopped, but occasionally a drop or two of water drips from the eaves, hitting the stone steps with a hollow sound.

Ying Zheng should have gotten up and returned to his bedchamber; there was a court assembly tomorrow, and three scrolls of memorials remained unapproved on his desk, but he didn't move.

He leaned back on the throne, the image of Zhou Puyuan sitting alone in the living room still lingering in his mind, and he couldn't shake it off.

Although he realized from the beginning that the sky was being projected using Zhou Puyuan.

But Zhou Puyuan is a coal mine owner who manages a house, two wives, and three sons. He can manage such a small thing in such a chaotic way. What right does he have to identify with this person? What right does he have to make him uncomfortable?

"Zhou Puyuan." He murmured the name in the darkness, arrogant, conceited, and self-righteous.

He sits in the center of a tightly sealed living room, keeping everyone under his established rules, waiting for the thunder and rain to strike.

The copper lamp went out at that moment.

In the instant darkness surged in, another scene appeared uninvited: the Qin Dynasty ended with the death of its second emperor.

That was the ending that Tianmu had told Da Qin long ago. He had thought about it repeatedly and thought he had already digested it.

But at this moment, in the darkness after the candlelight went out, the two images suddenly overlapped.

Zhou Puyuan faced the empty living room, and he faced the Xianyang Palace, which had become a scorched earth.

He sat in the darkness, his back still ramrod straight, a posture etched into his bones that would never change until his death.

But a window that hadn't been opened for a long time was pushed open a crack by the night wind.

Weiyang Palace.

After the sky darkened, Liu Che did not immediately offer his comments as he usually did.

He placed the wine cup on the table and spun it around, once, twice, the wine leaving a thin layer of light on the bronze surface.

Wei Qing sat at the lower end of the table, waiting for his reaction.

"Zhou Puyuan was an idiot."

Liu Che tapped the rim of the wine cup with his fingertip, producing a crisp sound.

"He treats rules as the end, but I do not. Rules are the means, and talent is the end. No, that's not right," he paused, correcting his wording, "talent is the means, and the great cause is the end."

He said those words without any shame.

"He locked his wife and children in the living room until they went mad and died. In the end, he was sitting alone in an empty room." He raised his eyes and looked towards the darkening sky. A faint hint of sarcasm appeared on his lips. "I have also imprisoned many people. Zhang Tang imprisoned them, Du Zhou imprisoned them. They are all attributed to me. But I imprisoned people not because I like rules, but because if those people don't die, the great cause cannot be advanced."

Liu Che picked up the wine cup, took a sip, and suddenly frowned.

"However, I find Zhou Ping's pathetic appearance annoying."

Wei Qing didn't respond. Liu Che put the wine cup on the table, his tone filled with undisguised annoyance.

"The eldest son, kneeling before his stepmother, can't even catch his breath. Zhou Puyuan used the rules to suppress him into this state. I despise the father and I despise the son."

He didn't connect it to Liu Ju. Crown Prince Liu Ju was only a few years old this year. What could a child possibly know? He didn't even think about it that way.

As for Fanyi, the woman who was imprisoned by her husband for eighteen years and driven mad, there were plenty of women in the harem. He couldn't remember their faces, whether they were favored or neglected. He wouldn't bother with such things.

Taiji Hall.

Li Shimin did not sit on the dragon throne. When Tianmu finished speaking about the moment Zhou Chong died from electrocution, he stood up and stood at the palace gate, with his back to the court officials.

Changsun Wuji and Fang Xuanling exchanged a glance, while Wei Zheng looked down and flipped through his notes.

"Zhou Chong ran into the rain to pull Sifeng out." Li Shimin turned to face his ministers. "He's dead. Why did he run in?"

Wei Zheng put down his pen, "because I couldn't bear it."

"I can't bear it." Li Shimin repeated these two words.

He walked back to the imperial desk, but did not sit down. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, one hand on the edge of the desk.

It wasn't raining that day; it was a sunny day. But Xuanwu Gate became the damp spot of his life.

He felt no remorse for this, at least not at that moment. Afterwards, he did many things: revised the history books, posthumously conferred upon Li Jiancheng the title of Prince of Xi, reburied him with the rites due to a crown prince, and wept bitterly during the funeral.

Some of these things were genuine, while others were calculated; even he himself couldn't tell the difference.

Wei Zheng suddenly spoke up: "Your Majesty, I believe the most lamentable character in this play is not Zhou Chong."

"It's Zhou Puyuan."

The hall fell silent. Wei Zheng was known for his straightforwardness, but tonight his words still made several senior officials gasp.

Li Shimin did not get angry; he looked at Wei Zheng and waited for him to continue.

"Zhou Puyuan drove Shi Ping away, put away the old things, and lived a respectable life with a clear conscience. But emperors throughout history have all kept a few pieces of old furniture, embellished words, and things done to put their minds at ease. I dare to say that Your Majesty has done the same."

The air in the entire hall seemed to freeze.

The fact that the "Daily Records of the Emperor" had been altered was known to all the officials in the court, but no one dared to mention it to his face.

In order to know how the historians would write about him, Li Shimin broke with the old rule that emperors did not read the "Daily Records of the Emperor's Activities" and ordered Fang Xuanling to present it for his "viewing".

He also issued an imperial edict to revise the "Veritable Records of Emperor Gaozu" and the "Veritable Records of Emperor Taizong," personally setting the tone that the Xuanwu Gate Incident was not a case of fratricide and father-killing, but rather a "security of the state."

Changsun Wuji stepped forward and said, "Wei Zheng, you've gone too far."

Li Shimin raised his hand to stop him, and looked at Wei Zheng, remaining silent for a long time.

"You're right. I did revise the history books, but there's a difference between me and him. He sat there for thirty years with that pile of old stuff, and no one dared to say a word against him. I'm different." He turned around and glanced at the ministers in the hall. "I revised the 'Daily Records of the Emperor' to put my mind at ease, but I also know that revising the history books is not the same as revising the facts. That's why I accepted advice and I opened the imperial examination system."

He stepped down the imperial steps and stood before Wei Zheng.

"I am not angry at what you said, but happy, because you said it, which proves that my living room is not sealed off. Zhou Puyuan lied to himself until his death, but I do not lie. I will take responsibility for what I have done."

Wei Zheng knelt down, saying, "Your subject has misspoke."

"You did not break your word." Li Shimin helped him up. "Master Shen told this play not to make people hate themselves, but to make them respect themselves. I will not sit in an empty living room. There are still people in my living room who dare to speak the truth."

He walked back to his desk and sat down, his back straight. This posture reminded him of Zhou Puyuan. He chuckled self-deprecatingly, then changed his posture, leaning back in his chair and relaxing.

"What a fine thunderstorm." He looked at the night outside the palace and said softly, "Good, the rain will stop and the sky will clear. There will be a court assembly tomorrow."