Chapter Twenty-Nine: Clad in Armor

Because of the rain, Liu Tan had to suppress his urge to inspect the Imperial Guards. At this time, the eunuch Wang Li had already brought the craftsmen, and personally oversaw the replacement of the Anle Hall plaques with those reading "Hall of Cultivated Heart."

A towering building must rise from the ground up; one cannot become fat in a single mouthful. Many matters must proceed step by step.

The next issue to address was the problem at hand. At the time, in his anger, he had ordered the extermination of the assassin’s entire clan and the desecration of their ancestral graves. The word of the emperor was not to be taken lightly, and he was determined to see it through. Now that he possessed the tiger tally of the Imperial Guards—were they not precisely the emperor’s tool for private matters?

Seeing that Wang Li was momentarily unoccupied, Liu Tan asked, “Attendant Wang, how is the investigation of the assassin progressing?”

Wang Li knelt and replied, “I have already dispatched people to investigate. I estimate there will be news by tomorrow!”

Liu Tan frowned inwardly, thinking, “To look into the background of a single guard, it takes two or three days? In the Ming dynasty, the Eastern Depot’s Embroidered Uniform Guard could dig up everything about a man in less than two hours. Efficiency, oh, efficiency! If only I had a similar department at my disposal.”

But he understood that now was not the time for sweeping reforms.

“Very well. Tomorrow, I’ll visit the Imperial Guard barracks and let them move about a bit,” he said as he looked around at everyone. Seeing no one react strongly, he understood that the Imperial Guards were clearly the royal family’s army; previously, command lay with the Empress Dowager, but now it was in the emperor’s hands.

He also understood that these five thousand troops were no match for Zhuge Liang’s Northern Expedition forces; thus, even with the royal family holding the Guards, there was nothing to fear.

Liu Tan sighed. Once again, he found himself with nothing to do. In his previous life, he would have envied such leisure, but now he felt uneasy.

An emperor ought to be busy with a myriad of affairs each day, yet when he sent someone to ask if Zhuge Liang needed him to attend court, the answer was: “Nothing urgent, no need to appear.”

So, Liu Tan could only withdraw to the Hall of Cultivated Heart, chatting idly with his three consorts, reciting poetry, or singing.

Yet, in his heart, he was always planning. This latter half of the year should be uneventful. Starting next year, the Northern Expedition would begin. This half year would be his time to develop quietly.

He reflected that for a nation to progress, the improvement of the people’s livelihood was essential. Therefore, when he left the palace, the first thing he needed to examine was the current state of agricultural technology—what stage it had reached, the yield per acre, and whether there were ways to improve it.

Then there was commerce. The ancients ranked scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, putting merchants last, reflecting their low status. But in truth, for a country to develop and grow wealthy, merchants were indispensable. Liu Tan thought to discuss with Lady Wang’s father about creating a shareholding system. With the emperor’s involvement, a private business could become a state enterprise, even lining his own pockets.

With more money, one feels more confident in any endeavor, even the emperor.

Moreover, throughout Chinese feudal history, no matter how merchants were oppressed or how low their status, they never rebelled. The greatest threat to a dynasty was always peasant uprisings.

He had already counted all his own money, set aside half for emergencies, and considered using the other half to reward the Imperial Guards. But after calculating, dividing it among five thousand men would give each only half a month’s rations—a paltry reward that would invite ridicule.

Next was the matter of forming his own army, but he would see how things went. If it couldn’t be done this year, he’d leave it for the next. After all, Zhuge Liang would be campaigning northwards then, and no one would be watching him so closely.

Finally, he considered whether to create some firearms. Even if not enough to arm the army, they could serve as his own trump card for self-preservation.

In short, everything needed to be handled with care. One needed to remember that the time-traveling Wang Mang had caused widespread resentment because his reforms were utterly mismatched with the productive forces of his era.

He recalled that in Wang Mang’s time, the remnants of the Han, the old nobility, and the peasants had all united to oppose the new regime. Liu Tan dared not imagine how Wang Mang must have felt then. He was determined not to repeat that mistake.

Therefore, he would be extremely cautious with any reforms. Unless he was absolutely certain, he would not implement them.

The next day, the sky cleared. After practicing martial arts and tai chi, Liu Tan returned to the hall, where Wang Li was already waiting.

Seeing Liu Tan was free, Wang Li said, “Your Majesty, the assassin’s identity has been uncovered. Please have a look!”

Liu Tan accepted the document and saw that the silk had diagrams resembling family trees. Looking more closely, he saw the assassin’s name highlighted, with seventeen generations above and one below—eighteen generations in all.

Next to each, in tiny writing, were the addresses of the living and the burial places of the dead—astonishingly detailed. The scribe had managed to write such minute characters with a brush, yet they remained legible.

“Who wrote this?” Liu Tan asked in surprise.

Wang Li knelt and replied, “It was I, Your Majesty!”

“Well done!” Liu Tan could not help but praise him, and Wang Li kowtowed his thanks.

Liu Tan said, “Bring me my armor and ready my warhorse!”

The emperor’s armor, which he had seen before, was not as gleaming as the legendary golden armor but was impressive enough. The warhorse was said to be a descendant of Guan Yu’s Red Hare—though not able to travel a thousand li a day, it could still manage five hundred.

After Wang Li departed, the empress asked, “Your Majesty, what are you going to do?”

Liu Tan replied, “To the Imperial Guard barracks, to lead the troops in exterminating the assassin’s clan and desecrating their ancestral graves!”

Lady Li frowned, “I thought you were only speaking in anger.”

“Hmph. The emperor’s word is no joke. If someone dares to kill me, I will dare to wipe out their clan!” Liu Tan said sternly.

In truth, this was also a test for himself. Perhaps ordinary people would not understand, but having traveled from an era of peace to this war-torn age, if he could not quickly adjust his mindset and continued to think as before, it would only bring disaster.

If you dare attempt my life, be prepared for my vengeance.

The armor was brought, and the warhorse awaited outside the hall.

The armor was entirely black, with helmet and pauldrons forged from solid iron, the breastplate and leg guards fashioned from interlinked iron scales. With the help of his three consorts, Liu Tan donned the armor.

“Ah, I knew I’d lost a bit of weight these past days—turns out I was right!” Liu Tan felt the weight of the armor, about fifty pounds, which was within his tolerance.

His weapon was a long sword that could be hung on the armor, and there was also a red cloak—altogether, quite the striking appearance.

Clad in armor and sword, Liu Tan turned in place and asked, “Do you think I look handsome?” At that moment, he somewhat regretted not having a large mirror to admire his heroic figure.

In these past days, the three consorts had picked up some new expressions from Liu Tan, and now they answered in unison, “Handsome!”

Liu Tan laughed heartily and strode out of the hall.

Several selected guards followed closely behind.

He had considered bringing the empress along but thought better of it—he couldn’t take a woman everywhere he went. Besides, the fact that Liu Chan had lived out his life to old age in the annals of history proved that this palace, and even all of Shu, was fairly safe for the emperor. The assassin incident was an exception, not a daily occurrence.

His warhorse was held by a groom, and when Liu Tan appeared, the horse snorted in greeting—it clearly recognized its master.

In ancient times, a horse was a means of transport, just like a car in his previous life—except that this "car" ate grass and needed to breathe!

Liu Tan walked over to the horse, feeling its affection. He gently stroked its neck, and the horse nuzzled him in return. Taking up the reins, he set his foot in the stirrup and mounted.

At that moment, a line from a song came to mind: “Let us ride our horses and roam the world’s splendor together!”

Well, there was no beauty at his side, nor a vast prairie to gallop across—he had serious business to attend to.

He gave the horse a light pat, and it began to move forward, the rhythmic sound of hooves echoing through the palace.

His destination: the Imperial Guard barracks southwest of the palace.