Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Little Chubby Boy

When Cheng Yaojin saw his fan snatched away, he was furious and immediately lifted his leg to give chase. Yet, he caught sight of Empress Zhangsun approaching, accompanied by a group of beauties, and at once he calmed down. The assembled ministers, too, returned to their places. After all, Empress Zhangsun was the Empress herself; no one dared show her disrespect. It was because Li Yi had seen the Empress coming that he dared to act at all.

"Guanyin Maid, what brings you here?" Emperor Li Er was clearly delighted to see Empress Zhangsun arrive.

After saluting the emperor, Empress Zhangsun seated herself at his side. "Your Majesty, I heard someone was taking advantage of their status to bully the younger generation. I came to see the spectacle!" As she spoke, she cast a glance—almost by accident, yet not—toward Cheng Yaojin, making him so embarrassed he wished he could bury his head in his trousers and be done with it.

Li Er, too, smiled awkwardly. He had been enjoying the spectacle himself a moment ago. Just as he was about to say something to ease the tension, Princess Changle suddenly grew short of breath; her eyes rolled back, her lips parted as she gasped for air, as if she were suffocating. The maidservant at Changle’s side immediately understood the cause. "Something’s wrong—the princess’s asthma is acting up again!"

Li Yi had noticed something amiss the moment Changle fell ill. Before the maid could finish speaking, he had already run over, laid Changle down in a half-reclining position in his arms, and began massaging the muscles of her back to help her breathe.

The ministers, seeing Changle faint, were thrown into panic and chaos. Some shouted for the imperial physician, others called for help, and some even took this moment to criticize breaches of decorum. Both Emperor Li Er and Empress Zhangsun hurried over as well. They were not blaming Li Yi—at such a time, all that mattered was Changle’s safety.

"Li Yi, you’re out of line! Taking advantage of someone’s weakness is no gentleman’s conduct!"

"Li Wenyong, you disgrace the name of a scholar!"

A small group of ministers voiced their accusations against Li Yi. Li Jing and Fang Xuanling, however, remained silent, for they trusted in Li Yi’s character.

Li Yi, at this moment, was filled with regret. He knew Changle suffered from asthma; in his previous life, he had learned that Empress Zhangsun died of this very ailment, and so naturally he had deduced that Changle inherited it as well. But after too long in the Tang Dynasty, he had forgotten this fact. Had he remembered sooner, Changle would not be in such danger now.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Li Yi tried to recall all the first aid knowledge he knew, but the ministers’ shouting left him irritable and distracted.

"Silence, all of you!" Li Yi raised his head and shouted. The crowd was stunned—not least because his eyes were bloodshot with anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, Li Yi steadied himself. "Your Majesty, have everyone withdraw at once. No one should stand within a hundred paces of Changle, and absolute silence must be maintained—no one is to make a sound."

Emperor Li Er knew Li Yi was skilled in medicine, and with the imperial physicians absent, he had no choice but to trust him. The emperor dismissed the ministers and pulled Empress Zhangsun aside with him.

Once everyone had left, Changle breathed in the fresh air, and the quiet allowed her to calm her heart.

"Changle, don’t be afraid. Take it slow—I'm here with you. Don’t worry, don’t panic. Breathe with me: in... out..."

With Li Yi’s guidance, Changle gradually calmed down. This attack seemed to have been brought on by the chill and was not too severe.

Emperor Li Er let out a heavy sigh of relief as Changle’s breathing steadied.

"Li Yi, how is Changle?" he asked anxiously.

Li Yi checked Changle’s pulse, helped her sit up, and replied, "Rest assured, Your Majesty. Princess Changle is out of danger now; she just needs a little rest."

"That’s good, that’s good!"

Once her breathing returned to normal, Changle recalled what had just happened—finding herself in a man’s arms was almost unbelievable. Yet his embrace had been so warm. Blushing, Changle walked shyly to stand beside Empress Zhangsun.

As for the ministers, they wore various expressions. Now, none dared to reproach Li Yi. Not only had he saved Changle, leaving them with no grounds for criticism, but even if they had reason, none wished to be the one to provoke Li Yi. His calligraphy, writings, and medical skill were invaluable to all present; no one wanted to make an enemy of him over such a trivial matter.

At that moment, Li Ke directed a group of young nobles to bring forth the roast meat, perfectly easing the awkwardness that lingered. Emperor Li Er quickly ordered everyone to begin eating. With the feasting and wine, all thoughts of the previous commotion were forgotten.

Li Yi, too, let out a long sigh of relief. He’d broken into a cold sweat; after all, there was no one else in Great Tang who would dare shout commands at the highest dignitaries as he had. And yet—he had to admit—it felt exhilarating!

Still, exhilaration aside, Li Yi made a point of apologizing to the ministers during the meal. As a junior, it was a matter of basic courtesy, regardless of right and wrong, and this gesture won him the goodwill of all, including Emperor Li Er and Empress Zhangsun.

...

It was around four o’clock in the afternoon when Emperor Li Er, accompanied by his ministers, returned to Chang’an. Li Yi, meanwhile, made his way alone back to the Jiang residence, resuming his training of the young boys.

The next day, Li Yi mounted his steed, Juechen, and rode alone to Xuanye Ward’s Xuan Capital Daoist Temple. He had come today to visit his senior brother—the eccentric elder, Yuan Tiangang.

The sun was just rising, casting its gentle rays as Li Yi stood before the gates of the splendid temple, admiring its grandeur. The palace-style archway was flanked by ornate, dragon-engraved screen walls; a pair of towering stone lions and ancient-style iron incense burners stood guard below. The gate itself was majestic, resplendent with gold and jade, its hipped roof adorned with glazed tiles, intricate carved latticework along the main ridge, red and yellow treasure vases at the center, and dragon-headed chiwei at each end, mouths agape and tails raised. The eaves were lined with glazed tiles, their corners reaching skyward, and the walls bore the three large characters “Xuan Capital Temple,” gleaming in golden brilliance. Beside them were painted sculptures of the Eight Immortals and the auspicious clouds of “Purple Energy from the East.”

Suddenly, a guileless voice startled Li Yi from his reverie. "Who are you, and what brings you to Xuan Capital Temple?"

Li Yi could not help but smile at the sight. The speaker was a Daoist novice, a plump boy of twelve or thirteen. “Little” only described his age; his frame was anything but. He was nearly 1.45 meters tall and easily weighed close to 200 pounds. His round body stretched his Daoist robe to its limits, and Li Yi couldn’t help but feel sorry for the garment—such an unfortunate fate to be worn by this boy! Truly, the poor robe suffered much under its master.

"Is the temple food really this good these days?" Li Yi muttered under his breath, then dismounted and approached. "Hello, I’m Li Yi, here to visit Daoist Priest Yuan Tiangang."

The chubby boy scratched his head in confusion. "You’ve come to see the Patriarch? Do you have an introduction letter?"

Li Yi reached into his robe and handed the letter from his master to the young Daoist. "Please deliver this letter to Priest Yuan; he will know why I’ve come."

Taking the letter, the boy replied with his innocent simplicity, "Please wait a moment," and proceeded to roll his two-hundred-pound body back inside.