Chapter 177:

“The territory of our Great Zhou has now surpassed that of the Qin, Han, Tang, and Ming dynasties. However, a nation’s strength is not measured by the vastness of its land alone, but by its prosperity, the stability of its people, and the wealth it accumulates.

“Great Zhou still needs time to develop. Only when we fully integrate these territories will our power truly elevate us to one of the world’s most formidable nations.”

Wu Zhao leaned back in her chair, her slender figure wrapped tightly in a golden dragon robe of Sujin silk. The delicate fabric clung to her curves, accentuating her soft yet imposing presence. Against the pale gold of her robe, the expanse of snow-white skin revealed at her neckline only heightened the sense of authority she exuded.

She frowned slightly. “Yet, whether our neighbors will allow us the time to develop is another matter...”

Although the Qin, Han, Tang, and Ming dynasties had established diplomatic ties with Great Zhou, alliances in the political realm were as fickle as the wind. The stronger Zhou became, the more it would threaten the balance of power.

Could those emperors really stand by and watch as Great Zhou rose unchallenged?

Yang Yi coughed lightly, his gaze sharp.

“Your Majesty need not worry. The other great nations are distant. The Tang Dynasty is the closest, but I doubt they have the capacity to engage with us at the moment.”

Wu Zhao’s brow furrowed. A flicker of confusion passed through her clear, dark eyes.

“What do you mean, Minister Yang?”

Yang Yi retrieved a bundle of letters from his sleeve.

“Please, take a look, Your Majesty.”

Wu Zhao hesitated. Shangguan Wan’er quickly stepped forward, took the letters, and unfolded them one by one before presenting them to the Empress.

Wu Zhao’s delicate brows arched slightly as she skimmed the contents. Her expression shifted—first curiosity, then disbelief. She instinctively glanced at Yang Yi before lowering her gaze again, reading carefully.

Moments later, she placed the letters on the table, unable to mask the incredulity in her eyes.

“When did you start corresponding with Li Chengqian?”

Her mind buzzed. The letters contained an exchange between Yang Yi and the Tang Crown Prince. It was evident that Yang Yi had been advising Li Chengqian, who, in turn, addressed him with great deference, referring to him as ‘Mr. Yang.’

Yang Yi leaned back slightly, his upright posture reminiscent of an immovable pine tree. He smiled.

“Not long after he left Luoyang, he sent a letter from Chang’an in secret, seeking my counsel on how to win more trust and favor from Li Shimin.”

Wu Zhao tapped a finger against the table, processing his words.

“It seems,” Yang Yi continued, “that the Crown Prince of Tang was deeply moved by our last conversation. He now seeks to compete for the throne, despite Li Tai enjoying greater imperial favor and possessing an even stronger base of support.

“So, I offered him some strategies.” His tone was light, almost casual. “For instance, I advised him to rid the Eastern Palace of all traces of Turkic influence.”

Wu Zhao’s gaze darkened slightly. Yang Yi’s so-called ‘strategies’ never failed to be layered with deeper implications.

“And?”

“And,” Yang Yi continued smoothly, “instead of forming factions, I advised him to complete every task Li Shimin assigns him with absolute diligence. I told him to avoid all conflict with Li Tai and Li Ke, to play the role of the magnanimous elder brother—even when provoked.

“After all, Li Shimin, a man who once killed his own brothers and deposed his father, fears nothing more than seeing his sons follow his path. If Li Chengqian plays the part of a benevolent brother, Li Shimin will come to trust him once more.”

Wu Zhao nodded slowly. She could see the logic in his words. As an emperor and a father, the last thing Li Shimin would want was to witness his sons tearing each other apart.

But suddenly, Wu Zhao’s expression turned odd. She narrowed her eyes at Yang Yi.

“You have long been hailed as the most dangerous strategist in Great Zhou, perhaps in the entire world. Yet the advice you’ve given Li Chengqian is... tame. That doesn’t sound like you.”

Yang Yi’s lips twitched. “Your Majesty makes me sound like a villain. I assure you, I am a good person.”

Shangguan Wan’er, standing at the side, felt her eyelid twitch. A good person? Even the most ruthless men would beg for mercy when faced with Minister Yang.

Wu Zhao ignored Yang Yi’s feigned innocence and pointed to a newly sealed letter on the table.

“Li Chengqian’s latest letter seeks your advice on eliminating Li Tai.”

Her fingers drummed against the table.

“This man is ruthless and impulsive. It’s hard to imagine he is Li Shimin’s son…” She lifted her gaze. “What are you planning to tell him? Will you pacify him, tell him to bide his time?”

A slow smile curved Yang Yi’s lips, his gaze steady as still water.

“Your Majesty, why should he wait?”

Wu Zhao’s breath caught. A strange chill ran through her. “You… You plan to help him get rid of Li Tai?”

“Not directly, of course,” Yang Yi said, his tone smooth. “It would be nearly impossible to have Li Shimin kill Li Tai. But deposing him? That is very possible.”

Wu Zhao’s stomach tightened. She exhaled slowly. “How?”

Yang Yi’s smile deepened. “It’s simple. Li Shimin dotes on Li Tai because he is the Empress’s son—intelligent, obedient, and politically astute. He is well-connected and enjoys a sterling reputation. Compared to him, Li Chengqian’s standing is abysmal. Naturally, a father would favor the son who appears more capable.”

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. “But what if, one day, that same father begins to fear his most capable son?”

Wu Zhao’s pulse quickened.

“Imagine,” Yang Yi continued, “if Li Shimin were to realize that Li Tai is too powerful, too ruthless toward his brothers, and—most dangerously—a potential threat to himself. What would he do then?”

Wu Zhao’s breath hitched as she grasped his meaning.

“Especially,” Yang Yi added, his voice deceptively light, “since Li Shimin was once in the very same position. He was not the eldest son, yet he had the power to threaten his father. He was ruthless enough to kill his own brothers.”

His gaze flickered with dark amusement.

“Your Majesty, tell me—Li Shimin personally orchestrated the Xuanwu Gate Incident and made his father a retired emperor. Do you think he would enjoy being made a retired emperor himself?”

Wu Zhao stared at him, her blood running cold. A chill crawled up her spine, settling in the base of her skull.

Yang Yi had spoken so casually, yet every word had peeled away the layers of Li Shimin’s mind with surgical precision.

Had he been planning this all along?

She pursed her lips. “Li Shimin is no fool, no naive ruler like Qianlong or Zhao Ji. Orchestrating his son’s downfall will not be easy.”