Chapter 105: The Investigation

Inside the Eastern Palace, Li Chengqian sat with a sullen expression, his mind wracked with turmoil. He knew his father the emperor and his mother well; though this marriage seemed to still be consulting Princess Changle’s opinion, in truth, it had become an irreversible decree—Princess Changle was to marry Changsun Chong.

If he were to interfere rashly, relying solely on his own account, he feared that given Li Shimin’s temperament, it would only backfire.

“Send someone here!” Li Chengqian commanded.

“Your Highness!” A black-robed eunuch appeared quietly behind him.

“Princess Changle is somewhat ignoring the goodwill of our parents’ close alliance. I want you to immediately send people to investigate cases of consanguineous marriages within Chang’an. I will use facts to persuade her.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the eunuch replied, his voice calm as still water.

Just as the eunuch was about to disappear, Li Chengqian added suddenly, “Focus especially on the offspring from these close-relative marriages—whether living children or those who died young. Record everything in detail. Keep this confidential after the investigation is complete; I want to give Father a surprise.”

Li Chengqian, as Crown Prince, commanded his own network of influence which he could call upon, but even so, he remained cautious. After all, this involved his sister's entire future; if exposed prematurely, all efforts could be undone.

“Also, include data on childbirth outcomes for girls married at fourteen,” he added almost casually.

The eunuch paused, nodded silently, then vanished swiftly.

The Eastern Palace’s reach was vast. Even without openly using his power, alarming reports began to stream in.

“One mentally handicapped child!”

“Ten mentally handicapped children!”

...

Within just three hundred families practicing close-relative marriages, over fifty had children with mental disabilities, and more than a hundred had children who died young. The greatest tragedy was one family that bore seven children consecutively: two died young, five were mentally handicapped, and eventually, the couple along with their children descended into madness. Cases of young girls dying from childbirth complications were countless.

Veins bulging on his hands, Li Chengqian felt a chilling coldness settle in his heart. Though he had already accepted the warnings of Modun and Elder Hua, preparing himself mentally, facing such harrowing statistics was still a torment.

This was merely the result of two days’ investigation in Chang’an; what of the entire Guanzhong region? Or the whole Tang Dynasty?

This was a human tragedy born of ignorance, yet people took pride in calling it “close kin marriage”—what bitter irony.

Li Chengqian suddenly recalled a phrase Modun once said: “The world may deceive you in many ways, but numbers never lie.” Now, he truly grasped the harshness of that truth, and his sister was about to become one cold number among many.

“This must remain strictly confidential. No leaks,” Li Chengqian said coldly, staring at the sweating eunuch.

“Yes, Your Highness!” the eunuch replied anxiously.

At first, when he was told to keep it secret, the eunuch sensed the matter was complex, but he hadn’t imagined it would be such a bombshell.

Rumors of the close alliance between Changsun Chong and Princess Changle spread like wildfire within and outside the palace, yet the Crown Prince’s investigation uncovered such shocking details. One was the Crown Prince himself; the other, the most powerful man in the realm. Either could easily crush him if displeased.

Li Chengqian gazed toward the Taiji Hall, rising several times only to slump back wearily. This matter was far more complicated than it appeared. It involved Li Shimin’s political strategy to consolidate the officials and his mother’s long-term plans for her natal family.

If he forced the issue and exposed the marriage, it would shatter the union but also disgrace his father and maternal uncle, possibly pushing matters to an extreme.

No, even in the worst case, he could not gamble with Princess Changle’s future. After much thought, Li Chengqian concluded that only the one who had posed this problem—Modun—might have the means to solve it.

With that in mind, he rose quickly, intending to find Modun, but then sat back down slowly. He remembered that Modun was to come tomorrow to paint the portraits for the Lingyan Pavilion with the emperor. He could wait until then.

“Sit properly!”

“Straighten your waist!”

...

“All right!”

In a side chamber of the Taiji Hall, Modun directed Li Shimin into position.

Unlike the last time when Modun painted Li Shimin with Princess Jinyang, this portrait was far more formal, intended as a grand half-length image worthy of a great figure to be hung in the Lingyan Pavilion.

Modun painted meticulously, but Li Shimin was not an ideal model; he could only hold a corrected pose for a few minutes before shifting.

Well, he was emperor after all—if he was willful, Modun accepted it and resumed his work, gradually repairing the distortions caused by the emperor’s restless movements.

“I heard Princess Changle left the palace to learn painting from you?” Li Shimin suddenly remarked.

Modun’s hand trembled, nearly ruining the portrait.

“Princess Changle?” Modun feigned confusion with just the right touch. “No, no Princess Changle. A young prince named Li Zhi came to the Modun residence, and I had my maid Zi Yi teach him a few strokes.”

“Hm! A talented boy, he paints well!” Modun flattered the emperor, inwardly commending his own quick wit. Which parent wouldn’t cherish praise for their child?

“Oh! So you mean that Li Zhi! That’s right, he does like painting,” Li Shimin suddenly recalled and dropped the subject of Princess Changle.

Modun breathed a quiet sigh of relief, glad to have deflected the question. But seeing Li Shimin’s fondness for Princess Jinyang, he knew that if he were caught in a lie, he might not lose his life but would certainly lose his skin.

Yet thinking of Princess Changle’s impending close-relative marriage, Modun’s mood grew heavy. He wondered how Li Chengqian’s efforts were progressing—whether he could save that sprite of a girl.

After nearly an hour of work, Modun finally completed the portrait.

“Your Majesty, please take a look!” Modun presented the painting, freshly removed from his simple easel.

The easel was an unexpected delight—Modun had mentioned it casually, but to his surprise, Old Zhang had swiftly crafted it and sent it along with pencils. With such convenient tools, Modun’s painting skills had advanced further.

“Not bad!” Li Shimin examined the half-length portrait that looked like a living likeness of himself and nodded in satisfaction.

“It seems Minister Yan was right! When it comes to portraiture, no one beats you, Modun,” Li Shimin praised contentedly.

Modun could only throw up his hands in silent exasperation. So his hard work was reduced to “painting a good likeness.”

“This is art!” Modun muttered, awarding himself a lofty title.