Chapter Three: Doomed Without a Place to Rest

Chapter Three: A Death Without So Much as a Grave

Yang Guozhong entered Yang Xi’s chamber, surrounded by several attendants.

“My son greets his father!” Because so many memories of his predecessor lingered within him, Yang Xi felt no sense of strangeness upon seeing Yang Guozhong enter. He stepped forward and greeted him with practiced ease. He was truly delighted that Yang Guozhong could return at this time and come to see him. There were many matters he could now speak of directly to Yang Guozhong, and he pondered how to bring them up without arousing suspicion.

Having grown up in the south in his previous life, he had been used to calling his father “Papa,” a term that felt far more intimate than the formal “Father,” which seemed distant and lacked the warmth of family affection. Yet, calling Yang Guozhong “Father” didn’t feel entirely unnatural. Of course, this was something akin to “accepting a thief as one’s own father,” but he had no choice—after all, he had transmigrated into the body of Yang Guozhong’s son!

“Xi’er, you’re finally awake! You have no idea how happy this makes your father!” Yang Guozhong, entering in haste, was overjoyed to see his youngest son awake and standing to greet him. His most beloved son had lain unconscious for two days after a sudden injury. Though the imperial physicians assured him there was no danger to life, Yang Guozhong, busy as he was with court affairs, had been deeply anxious. That morning, upon noticing signs of his son’s awakening, he had wanted to remain by his side until he regained consciousness, but a summons from the emperor forced him to the palace. It was only after court business was settled that he hurried home, and upon hearing from the servants that Yang Xi had awoken, he came at once to see him.

Four days prior, at his own insistence, the court had ordered Ge Shuhan to lead all forces from Tongguan to attack. That very morning, news arrived that Ge Shuhan had engaged the rebel forces, who, unable to withstand the assault, were in retreat, with Ge Shuhan in pursuit. Feeling that this strategy would achieve a double victory, Yang Guozhong was in high spirits, and hearing of his son's recovery only increased his joy. Thus, his words brimmed with unusual affection.

“Thank you for your concern, Father. I am quite well now. My recent slumber was only due to a blow to the head, but there was no serious harm. Now that I’m awake, I feel better than before, and even understand some things that had eluded me.” Yang Xi maintained a respectful demeanor as he spoke to his father.

Yang Guozhong was, after all, the most powerful minister in the Tang Dynasty, second only to the emperor. His presence was overwhelming; even though he showed warmth toward Yang Xi, there was still an aura of authority that pressed upon him. Yet Yang Xi’s calm mind betrayed none of this discomfort.

He found himself disliking certain figures of this era—such as Gao Lishi and Yang Guozhong—whose historical reputations were of manipulating power and bringing disaster upon the nation. Still, his experiences in his previous life had taught him not to let such feelings show. He understood well the strict hierarchy and the necessity of respect in ancient times, and so he gave these men their due. Besides, Yang Guozhong was now, in every sense, his father.

Yang Guozhong must have been quite handsome in his youth; even in older age, he possessed a certain charm and elegance, far removed from the villainous caricatures of film and television. This made Yang Xi feel somewhat more at ease.

His thoughts drifted to the famed Yang family beauty, Yang Guozhong’s cousin, Yang Yuhuan—celebrated as one of the Four Great Beauties of antiquity. He wondered just how beautiful this legendary woman truly was.

It seemed the Yang family had been generously endowed with fine features; their offspring were all either beauties or handsome men, and Yang Xi himself had benefited from this legacy. For reasons unknown, any anxiety or urgency he had felt dissipated in his father’s presence. He did not feel compelled to immediately speak of his ideas about the defense of Tongguan. Little did he know, this was due to the lingering memories and temperament of his predecessor!

Under the gaze of several servants, Yang Guozhong soon composed himself, letting his affection be replaced by a more solemn expression. “It is enough that you are well, Xi’er; your recovery has eased your father’s worry. You have just awakened—please rest, do not stand too long. When you are better, go and see your mother. I have many matters to attend to and will return to see you when I can.”

Yang Guozhong’s wife, Pei Rou—Yang Xi’s birth mother—had recently suffered from a chill and had not yet recovered. Out of concern for her son, she had stayed at Yang Xi’s side throughout his illness, exhausting herself to the point of collapse. Fortunately, it was merely fatigue and worry that had caused her to faint, and after a day’s rest she had recovered, though she was not yet strong enough to visit Yang Xi herself.

“I will obey Father’s instructions!” Yang Xi bowed again, but before Yang Guozhong could turn to leave, he spoke urgently, “Father, I have something of great importance I wish to discuss—may I trouble you to listen for a few moments?”

“Oh?” Yang Guozhong paused, eyeing his son with curiosity. “And what is it you wish to say, Xi’er?”

Yang Xi glanced at the attendants, and Yang Guozhong, understanding at once, ordered everyone else to leave the room.

“Now it is just the two of us. Speak freely, Xi’er—what is on your mind?”

Delighted that his father had not refused, Yang Xi quickly said, “Father, in recent days I have heard much about the current crisis. Upon waking this morning, I could not stop thinking of it and have formed some opinions I wish to share with you. I hope you will allow me to speak.”

“Matters of the current crisis?” Yang Guozhong’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Since when have you taken an interest in such affairs? What insights do you have for your father? Come, let us sit and talk.”

Yang Guozhong had four sons: Yang Xuan, who served as Minister of the Imperial Stables and Vice Minister of Revenue; Yang Po, who, having married Princess Wanchun, was Chief of the Honglu Temple; Yang Xiao, an Assistant Minister in the Ministry of Works; and the seventeen-year-old Yang Xi, who held only a minor honorary post. Although Yang Guozhong often discussed state matters with his elder sons, especially those holding important office, he had never involved his youngest in such affairs. Of all his sons, he considered Yang Xi the most clever and talented, both in learning and martial arts, but the boy was still young and spoiled by his mother, Pei Rou, leading him to act recklessly at times. Yang Guozhong had never thought his youngest son ready for responsibility or worthy of discussion on court matters. So hearing Yang Xi speak so earnestly today, he was astonished, but in his good mood, he decided to listen.

“Father, has the court not ordered General Ge Shuhan to lead the army out of Tongguan to engage the rebels?” Given that Yang Guozhong was said to dote on him, Yang Xi did not hesitate and asked directly.

Yang Guozhong frowned in displeasure at this question. “What is the matter with you, Xi’er? Do you not approve? Should we not seize the opportunity to strike while the enemy is unsettled, sending Ge Shuhan to defeat them before they can entrench themselves?”

The court had indeed ordered Ge Shuhan to march out from Tongguan two days ago, but Yang Guozhong had no intention of revealing this to his son.

“Father, precisely!” Yang Xi met his father’s gaze unwaveringly, his manner more resolute than Yang Guozhong had ever seen. “In my opinion, abandoning the natural defenses of Tongguan to fight in open field is a grave mistake—the worst possible strategy! It must not be done!”

“Explain your reasoning,” Yang Guozhong said, his face darkening with anger. Had his son not just recovered, he might have scolded him harshly or left in a huff.

“Father, the rebel forces are all seasoned border troops, veterans of many campaigns, especially skilled in field battles with coordinated infantry and cavalry—abilities not acquired overnight. To send tens of thousands of new recruits against such a force in the open is to invite disaster! Even Feng Changqing, an able general, suffered repeated defeats, and when he combined forces with Gao Xianzhi, they dared not attack but instead fortified themselves at Tongguan, relying on its natural defenses, for that was the only effective way to resist the enemy. In open battle, the imperial troops at Tongguan are no match for the rebels!” Seeing his father’s displeasure, Yang Xi quickly added, “If the garrison at Tongguan were composed of equally seasoned border troops, then a pitched battle might be possible!”

Yang Guozhong remained silent, but pondered his son’s words. The opinion of one’s own child carried a different weight than that of outsiders.

Noting his father’s lack of rebuke, Yang Xi grew bolder and pressed on: “Surely Father knows that the rebels’ banners are raised against you. An Lushan’s aim is ‘to clear the emperor’s side’; the one he most wishes to eliminate is you! There is longstanding enmity between you and An Lushan. If the rebels reach Chang’an, you will be their first target. What’s more, if the rebels threaten the court—demanding your execution in exchange for their withdrawal—what do you think the emperor will do? How will the other ministers advise him?”

At these words, the muscles in Yang Guozhong’s face twitched involuntarily, his expression contorted.

Seeing that his words had struck a chord, Yang Xi pressed on, “Therefore, Father, the only course is to do everything in your power to keep the rebels outside Tongguan. Tongguan is the last gateway to Chang’an—if it falls, the capital cannot be held. But if it remains in imperial hands, the city will be safe. I believe you must gather all available forces to defend Tongguan, not march out to fight! Otherwise, both Chang’an and your own life will be in grave danger, and our entire family could perish without so much as a grave. For the sake of our family’s survival, you must consider this carefully and do all you can to hold Tongguan and keep the rebels at bay!”

Having finished, Yang Xi fixed his bright gaze on Yang Guozhong, awaiting his reaction. He knew that the best way to persuade his father was to lay the fate of their family on the line; appeals to higher ideals or the interests of the state would never move this “father” to change his mind.

Yet Yang Guozhong remained silent, his eyes locked on his son.