Chapter Fifty-Six: Younger Brothers and Sisters

The first day of the second year of the Zhenguan era dawned in utter tranquility.

According to the Astronomical Bureau, this heavy snowfall had swept across the entire Guanzhong and Longyou regions. The northern grasslands suffered a blizzard of the kind not seen in thirty years, its reach extending as far as Liaodong. The snow had halted all enemies who might have harbored designs against the Great Tang, especially the Turks, who, having suffered grievous losses, could hardly defend themselves, let alone invade. Gaochang had grown meek, Goguryeo subdued, Tuyuhun and the Western Turks were busy trading with Li Kong, and naturally kept their peace. Only the yet-unified Tubo and the distant Kingdom of Yelang in the Songzhou region of Lingnan remained unsettled, but Li Kong felt sure this year would be the most peaceful of all.

The people of Great Tang seemed to sense this as well. Even as snowflakes danced ceaselessly outside, the streets of Chang’an were teeming with crowds. Adults and children reveled together, free from worry about the days ahead, many spending nearly all their year’s savings to enjoy this rare season of calm. The only regret was the absence of fireworks and firecrackers in this era; the New Year felt as though it lacked some essential spark without the gunpowder’s scent.

Trailing behind Li Kong, Laifu and Cuizhu had cheeks reddened by the cold. Their clothes were refashioned from old garments, providing little comfort or warmth. In truth, Li Kong had not intended to bring them along. With his martial skills, not even professional assassins could harm him. But he also knew the customs of this feudal age—had he forbidden their company, the two might well have taken it as an unbearable humiliation, perhaps even resorting to suicide to prove their loyalty.

Thus, Li Kong felt rather helpless. He had no mind to appreciate the smiling faces along the way and instead quickened his pace, heading toward the residence of Prince Li Xiaogong of Hejian, the noble closest to his own home.

Li Xiaogong, whom Li Kong had yet to meet since arriving in this world, was renowned in history—a prominent figure among the Twenty-Four Worthies of the Lingyan Pavilion, celebrated for both military and political prowess. Yet he was known for his reticence, shunning all factions, never expressing support for any of the imperial princes—a policy of withdrawal even more pronounced than that of Li Jing in later years.

Of course, Li Jing was not yet so discreet. Only after defeating the Turks, feeling his achievements threatened the emperor, did he choose to retire at the height of his glory. By then, the Great Tang faced no formidable enemies, and his absence from court mattered little. Besides, his disciples Li Ji and Hou Junji had come fully into their own; Li Jing could thus claim a truly honorable retirement.

Li Xiaogong, on the other hand, was royalty—a kinsman of the emperor—so his low profile ran even deeper. While other princes’ mansions boasted at least three courtyards, his was a modest two, akin to Li Ji’s residence. The size was respectable, but the rank was not. Imperial palaces aside, a prince’s mansion would typically have six courtyards; favored imperial sons received five, and ordinary royal kin, as per statutes, were allotted three, sometimes four. But two courtyards—this was self-effacement bordering on abasement.

As Li Kong stepped into the prince’s residence, three children approached—two boys and a girl, the eldest around eight or nine, the youngest, a girl of four or five. Two servants followed, both evidently skilled; aside from handling daily matters, their main role was clearly the children’s safety.

Cuizhu and Laifu, upon seeing the trio, quickly bowed, saying, “We greet Second Young Master, Third Young Master, and Young Mistress!”

Indeed, these were Li Kong’s younger siblings—Li Zhen, Li Siwen, and Li Rong—though this was Li Kong’s first encounter with them since crossing over. Previously, it wasn’t for lack of time but for his own resolve to keep distant, lest he grow conflicted after bringing down Lady Wang. Being a man of feeling, he could never match Li Shimin’s ruthless decisiveness, not even against kin—a failing in this era, perhaps, but one he never intended to amend.

Now, however, chance had brought them together, and he could hardly ignore them. Who did not know that Li Kong was now the emperor’s favored? Betrothed by imperial command to Princess Changle, no matter how much Lady Wang might resent it, she was compelled to show deference. Otherwise, it would be she, not Li Ji, who would bring disaster upon her own family—a risk she did not dare take.

And so, after a moment’s hesitation, Li Zhen and Li Siwen quickly pulled little Li Rong forward. “Greetings, elder brother! Happy New Year!”

Li Kong smiled, nodded, and, after rummaging in his sleeves, produced three strings of cash, dividing them among the children. “Buy yourselves something nice to eat or play with. Consider it my New Year’s gift. Remember to return home soon before you catch cold.”

“Thank you, big brother!” Little Li Rong, still innocent of adult feuds, beamed, eyes crescent-shaped as she grinned, adorably naive.

Li Siwen, too, accepted the money with a word of thanks and stood aside, saying little. The eldest, Li Zhen, seemed more thoughtful but, recalling his mother’s instructions, accepted the gift and said, “Thank you, big brother. Well then, we’ll be going ahead.”

Li Kong patted Li Zhen’s shoulder. “Go on, have fun.”

As the three children departed, Li Kong’s attitude left Laifu and Cuizhu somewhat puzzled. After all, Lady Wang had never treated anyone from their courtyard kindly—if anything, she’d been more than a little harsh. Or perhaps, very harsh.

Cuizhu, having served as Lady Wang’s personal maid for years, knew her character well—strong-willed to a fault. Yet now Lady Wang had ordered her children to greet Li Kong courteously. It was almost unbelievable. In the past, these three would have eyed him with nothing but disdain.

Such are the limits of perspective. Both Laifu and Cuizhu were mere servants, unable to grasp the true extent of Li Kong’s new status. Yet perhaps it was this very simplicity that allowed them to live so unburdened—wasn’t it?

“All right, let’s go and see if we can’t finagle a meal,” Li Kong muttered, turning toward the main hall.

But as he entered the courtyard, he heard, from afar, the voice of Li Ji—along with several uncles and elder cousins. Was this a grand family gathering? Why was it held at Li Xiaogong’s residence?

Could it be that Li Xiaogong had changed, ready at last to step into the spotlight?

Shaking off this absurd speculation, Li Kong drew a deep breath. Since he was here, he’d not leave with an empty stomach. Today’s meal—he would have it, come what may!