Chapter Eight: Prodigy
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Splattering sounds echoed in the air as the assassins drew ever nearer. Li Zhi readied himself to retaliate, but just at the critical moment, the same guard suddenly rose again. He appeared behind the assassins and, with a flurry of blades, dispatched them all.
Afterward, the guard collapsed into the pool of blood, lifeless.
No breath remained.
Li Zhi was dumbfounded.
Hadn’t she already died just now? How was she alive again?
Could it be that the infinite healing ability had a lingering effect? Or perhaps the guard had been feigning death, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back?
But none of that mattered now.
What mattered was that all the assassins and imperial guards were dead. Only Li Zhi and his sister survived.
Slowly, they got to their feet.
Surveying the scene, they saw only a field of crimson.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, so strong it nearly induced retching.
“It’s all right now, it’s over…” Li Zhi soothed her. “We’ve survived this disaster, so fortune must await us. But it isn’t absolutely safe yet—we should leave quickly!”
“Yes, yes!” Li Lizhi wanted nothing more than to leave.
She grabbed Li Zhi and fled with him at once.
Half an hour later, the patrol discovered the slain assassins and imperial guards.
The news was relayed through the ranks, until it reached Li Shimin.
At that very moment, Li Zhi and Li Lizhi entered the imperial study.
“Outrageous!” Li Shimin thundered. “To dare attempt an assassination on a prince and princess within the palace itself…”
His anger was beyond containment.
He summoned Wei Zheng, Minister of Justice.
“This matter must be investigated thoroughly!” Li Shimin commanded. “I want to know who plotted to kill Changle and Zhi’er, and what their intent was!”
“Wei, your ministry is to commence the investigation at once!” Li Shimin’s voice boomed.
“I obey, Your Majesty!”
“Wait…” Li Shimin glanced at Li Zhi, frowning. “Now that I think of it, there have been rumors swirling in the palace that Zhi’er is possessed by some demon. I ordered Hou Junji to investigate, but he found nothing. And now this assassination attempt. Could it be that the same group is behind both incidents? Is their aim to prevent a gifted prince from emerging?”
“Your Majesty is wise!” Wei Zheng replied, bowing. “Upon my return, I’ll start from this angle and investigate everyone within the palace…”
He paused.
“May I ask, Your Majesty—if the culprit is found and the evidence is irrefutable, how shall they be dealt with?”
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“Must you even ask? Their family will be executed, their property seized!”
“But what if the perpetrator is related to Your Majesty, or is someone you are reluctant to punish—do I still have the authority to act? If not, there’s no point in investigating at all.”
Wei Zheng spoke forthrightly.
He intended to force Li Shimin, in his anger, to make a promise and grant full authority over the case—whoever the culprit might be, justice would be served.
He was tired of the old ways, where any royal involvement meant leniency and, in the end, the matter would fade away. Wei Zheng detested such favoritism and corruption.
“Insolence!” Li Shimin exploded.
“Wei Zheng, hear me! Whoever dares send assassins after my prince and princess is as good as dead! Do your duty, and I shall not stand in your way!”
“Words alone are not enough—grant me an edict, Your Majesty!” Wei Zheng pressed, insisting on a written decree.
Suppressing his fury, Li Shimin issued an imperial order, granting Wei Zheng full authority to investigate and punish the guilty without interference.
Wei Zheng was elated.
He accepted the edict and left at once.
…
Fang Xuanling spoke: “Your Majesty, do not be angry. This was clearly a premeditated plot. Someone resents the Crown Prince’s favor and has conceived murderous intent! But the heavens are just—Wei Zheng will surely find the culprit!”
Li Shimin nodded. “I trust Wei Zheng to handle this matter.”
His eyes glittered with murderous resolve.
He longed to apprehend the assassin and see justice done.
Li Lizhi sat dazed in her seat, likely still in shock from the ordeal.
“Father, will we still have lessons today?” Li Zhi, in contrast, was unruffled.
“Not today. You both should return and rest. And do not wander the palace—there must be no further incidents!”
“Oh,” Li Zhi replied, pouting. “How dull…” He had hoped to play tricks on Fang Xuanling and complete the task assigned by his system, but the assassins had ruined his plans.
Fortunately, the system had given him three days.
He still had time.
…
The assassination was a wake-up call for Li Shimin.
The palace was not safe.
In some respects, it was even more dangerous than the world outside.
If vigilance lapsed, similar incidents would surely occur again.
To ensure Li Zhi’s safety, he assigned his top guards to protect Li Zhi at all times.
But Li Zhi protested vehemently.
“Mother, please tell Father to take those guards away! They’re so annoying—they even follow me to the latrine! I have no privacy at all!”
“You’re just a child—what privacy could you possibly need? Your biggest secret is whether there’s sugar in your porridge at breakfast!”
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There was simply no retort for that.
Night fell.
Stars glittered in the sky.
The scenery around the Lizheng Palace was breathtaking.
The princes and princesses played together in the courtyard.
Li Zhi, unwilling to join them and lower his intelligence, stayed by Empress Zhangsun’s side, childishly curious: “Mother, do you know how to compose poetry?”
“A little.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Poetry requires talent, but even more, a broad education. You haven’t even mastered the characters yet—how can you hope to write poetry? Learn from Lord Fang for a while, and I’ll teach you in time.”
“But I want to learn now!” Li Zhi shamelessly wheedled.
“Very well, I’ll teach you now.”
That trick never failed.
Empress Zhangsun surrendered at once.
She took Li Zhi in her arms and patiently explained the art of poetry.
Li Zhi listened intently, thoroughly absorbed.
“With this groundwork, my later display of talent before Fang Xuanling will be easier to explain…” Li Zhi mused.
“Mother, I think I can write poetry now…” he declared.
Empress Zhangsun laughed. “Mother doesn’t believe you!”
“Let me try a poem, and you can judge it?”
“Go ahead.”
Li Zhi picked up a nearby bouquet of flowers, plucked the petals, and tossed them one by one: “One petal, two petals, three and four, five petals, six petals, seven and more, nine petals, ten petals, eleven petals…”
At this, Empress Zhangsun could not suppress her laughter, covering her mouth to stifle it for fear of hurting his pride.
But the next line brought her laughter to an abrupt halt.
“Nine petals, ten petals, eleven petals—tossed into the grass, and gone from sight.”
Li Zhi raised his head. “Mother, does this count as a poem?”
“It does.”
She pondered it for a moment.
Li Zhi had plucked the petals and scattered them into the grass, where they vanished into the night—perfectly matching the mood. She praised him: “Zhi’er, you truly are a genius!”