Li Zhi pleads for leniency; the entire household is replaced.

When Li Zhi heard what Li Yin said, he couldn’t help but feel a jolt in his heart. He vaguely guessed the reason behind Li Yin’s reckless behavior. It seemed to him that everything Li Yin did was, in fact, a means of protecting himself—a sign of profound insecurity within.

While Li Zhi was still silently pondering, Emperor Taizong stepped forward, intent on further reprimanding Li Yin. With a scowl, he seized Li Yin from the ground and demanded, “Where does a child your age get such deep suspicion? Among all my children, have I ever mistreated anyone?”

Li Yin’s words had wounded Emperor Taizong deeply. Though he had never treated his children with perfect equality, he had never deliberately neglected or suppressed any of them. Whenever his children made mistakes, he never indulged them—even Li Tai, his favorite, was severely punished when at fault. Li Yin’s accusation was, in essence, a charge of favoritism, something Emperor Taizong could not accept.

Yet Li Yin seemed entirely unafraid of his father’s wrath. He looked up and replied, “If Father is not partial, why is it that some brothers were made princes at birth, while I and several others have only just been granted titles?”

Emperor Taizong retorted angrily, “That is because you did not distinguish yourself. Since childhood, what achievements of yours have merited reward?”

Li Yin was momentarily stunned by the question, for he truly had done little worthy of merit since he was young. Still, he did not believe his reasoning was wrong. He pressed on, “Even if I have not performed well, have all my brothers fared the same?”

Emperor Taizong thundered, “Which of my children who have performed well have I failed to reward? And why should I squander the people’s resources to bestow favors on those whose conduct is mediocre?”

Left speechless, Li Yin knew he could not win against his father’s arguments and so fell silent.

Seeing him like this only fueled Emperor Taizong’s anger. He raised his arm, about to strike Li Yin across the face. At that moment, Li Zhi suddenly spoke up, “Father, I beg you to spare Sixth Brother.”

Emperor Taizong’s arm froze in midair, and Li Yin, who had closed his eyes in anticipation of the blow, opened them in surprise.

Li Zhi continued, “In my view, though Sixth Brother’s thoughts may be extreme, it is not in his nature.”

He took two steps forward to stand between the two. “I spend every day within the palace, and what I see and hear is limited; I imagine it is the same for Sixth Brother.”

Emperor Taizong glanced at Li Yin and saw that he was frowning in contemplation.

Li Zhi went on, “I have always had tutors who imparted knowledge, so I could learn much from them. But my brothers, including Sixth Brother, have not had the same fortune to be educated early.”

He asked, “Father, then where do they get their information?”

Emperor Taizong was taken aback by the question, pondering for a moment before replying, “Naturally, from their own observations and from those around them.”

Li Zhi nodded. “I believe so as well. When I was young, Consort Yang often held me. In my eyes, she is learned, courteous, gentle, and virtuous—never one to spread rumors or sow discord.”

He turned to Li Yin. “I imagine Mother has often rebuked you as well.”

Li Yin turned his head away, embarrassed to admit it.

Li Zhi smiled and looked again at Emperor Taizong. “I have just considered that Sixth Brother’s extreme ideas must be due to the petty people by his side.”

Now, Li Zhi was finally preparing to strike at his true target. “If it’s not Consort Yang, then it must be those servants who constantly surround Sixth Brother.”

Li Yin, sensing the shift toward his attendants, quickly protested, “That’s nonsense! They never taught me such things.”

Before Li Zhi could reply, Emperor Taizong interjected, “If not them, then where did you receive these notions?”

Li Yin was dumbfounded, unable to find any other excuse.

Indeed, Li Zhi’s analysis was spot on. Li Yin’s extreme views at such a young age were entirely the result of the influence and instigation of his servants. Wanting to ensure their master would not be bullied by others, these servants encouraged him to be more assertive and aggressive. Thus, without realizing it, the young Li Yin had been led astray.

Emperor Taizong, witnessing Li Yin’s silence, became increasingly convinced by Li Zhi’s reasoning.

He was furious to realize his son had been so quietly manipulated. With a cold expression, he turned to Zhang Anan, who stood nearby. “Prepare an edict.”

At once, Zhang Anan fetched brush and paper, ready to record.

With icy resolve, Emperor Taizong declared, “The servants of the Prince of Liang’s household have failed in their duty of supervision, neglected to speak with loyalty and honesty, and as a result, the Prince of Liang has repeatedly erred.”

He paused, then continued, “Order the Court of Judicature and Revision to take all members of the Prince of Liang’s household into custody for investigation. Any found guilty of spreading malicious rumors or inciting wickedness shall be executed. The rest are to be sent back to their native places and never employed again.”

No sooner had the words left Emperor Taizong’s lips than Li Yin’s complexion turned deathly pale. He knew that, once these people were gone, his household would soon be filled with new faces—handpicked by his father, no doubt, who would keep him under strict watch. He realized that, not only would he no longer be able to order them about, but he would also be subject to constant admonition.

At this thought, panic seized Li Yin. Without the protection of his old servants, he feared he would quickly become a target for others.

After Liu An finished drafting the imperial edict and presented it for approval, he departed from the Hall of Supreme Harmony with the decree in hand.

Emperor Taizong then said to Li Zhi and Li Yin, “Let this matter rest for now.” He looked at Li Yin. “I know you are feeling lost, but when you are older, you will understand my intentions. I hope you will henceforth devote yourself to your studies and not persist in such reckless ways.”

Li Yin nodded, his gaze downcast. After bidding farewell, he limped out of the palace. His eyes were already red, and tears threatened to spill forth, but he stubbornly widened his eyes and tilted his head back to keep them at bay.

Only when he reached a secluded corner outside the palace did he finally break down, crouching on the ground and weeping bitterly, desperate to vent all the grievances pent up within his heart.

He cried until he was utterly exhausted. Only then, as his sobs subsided, did a small hand suddenly rest on his shoulder.