Chapter Thirty-Two: The Tale of the Wine Toast

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A young scholar from a family killed the eldest son and his brothers, forcing his father to relinquish the position of family head, thus seizing control over the entire clan. Though he bore the infamy of fratricide, he ultimately managed the family affairs with remarkable order, and the clan’s influence began to expand steadily.

As time passed, the young scholar grew old. His sons matured, and he began to groom his eldest, with whom he was very satisfied, gradually allowing him to take over family matters.

The eldest son learned quickly, guided and supported by all the elders in the clan, and handled his responsibilities well. Barring unforeseen circumstances, he would inherit the family after his father’s passing.

The wine master spoke slowly, calmly. After clearing his throat, he continued.

Yet the other son—the one who had also committed fratricide—was unwilling. He too desired to become the family head. With the help of his uncle, he sowed discord between father and eldest son, and among the brothers he stirred up conflicts unfavorable to the eldest. As these tensions built to a breaking point, he decided to act.

The eldest son, seeing his relationship with his father fade and realizing his brother’s schemes to usurp the family headship, underwent a profound inner transformation. He resolved to emulate his father—not by killing his brothers, but by confining several of them.

However, on the day he prepared to act, news had already reached his brother. Only then did he realize that spies had been planted around him. Not only that, but his brother accused him before their father, claiming he sought to kill their father and seize power.

Now the eldest son was thrown into panic—he had never intended such a thing. His father refused to listen to any defense. In his father’s wrath, he was stripped of his status as heir and expelled from the clan. Yet blood ties could not be severed, so his father settled him in a remote branch away from the clan’s center.

The son who made the accusation was overjoyed to obtain the status of heir. While his father lived, he concealed his true nature well, convincing his father that he had chosen correctly. But in his father's later years, an incident overturned all his earlier judgments: the son had an affair with a young concubine whom the father had taken in his twilight years. By then, it was impossible for the old scholar to remove his son from the position of heir, for two-thirds of the family supported him.

Nevertheless, the old scholar left a contingency plan. On his deathbed, he issued a command for his eldest son to return and take charge of the family, sending his personal jade pendant as proof along with a letter.

Here, the wine master sighed deeply, as if mocking the old scholar’s confusion and folly.

The three listeners were shaken to their core—the plot was eerily familiar…

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No, it was more than familiar. Wasn’t this old scholar none other than the Taizong of years past?

At this realization, their faces turned pale. For the wine master, with his status, to veil the truth in a story—it was clear this matter was far more involved than any record in the official histories.

“And… what happened afterward?” Li Fu asked.

“Afterwards…” The wine master closed his eyes for a long moment, then continued.

The command never reached the eldest son. The old scholar sent his two most trusted servants to deliver the message—one was killed, the other disappeared. All of this was orchestrated by the new family head. The old scholar did not die of old age, but was murdered by him.

At this, the faces of the three listeners went beyond shock. If the old scholar was indeed Taizong, then the founding emperor was not only guilty of fratricide but also patricide and treason!

“Of course, the story doesn’t end here. The dead scholar never realized that his act of fratricide would change the family forever. Not only his sons, but his grandsons, great-grandsons, and all his descendants—every transfer of power in the clan was accompanied by bloody slaughter…”

“And… what about the old scholar’s eldest son?” Yang Zixu ventured. If the old scholar was Taizong, then the eldest son was the deposed crown prince. Yet the crown prince had died before Taizong, and was buried at the imperial tomb.

“He was killed by his brother, who even altered the family records to erase everything about him—including his death. The genealogy states: ‘The eldest son plotted rebellion, committed suicide in fear of punishment, was scorned by the clan, and buried among wild grass.’”

The wine master shook his head, then mocked, “Little did they know that years later, his actions would be even more reprehensible.”

“What happened to him?”

Yang Zixu shifted, as if the wine master’s tale was not the secret history of the royal family, but an exciting story. He was utterly absorbed, his eyes shining brightly, as if only a plate of sunflower seeds was missing from the scene.

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Watching Yang Zixu’s eager posture, the wine master frowned slightly, but said nothing. He instructed the Grand Guardian to remove the ritual wine cup from the altar, then slowly opened the wine Li Fu had brought.

As the seal was broken, a scent of rice spread through the ancestral hall. The wine master poured a small bowl, setting it before him. The three youths wondered at his actions—would the wine master drink here, in the ancestral hall dedicated to the royal ancestors? Such an act would violate the rites of the Tang.

He did not drink, but turned his back to the four, pouring the wine onto the altar. The candles in the hall flickered as if alive; as he poured, the flames swayed, all pointing toward the central rows of ancestral tablets.

The wine master turned back to face the three seated on the cushions. The dim candlelight cast deep wrinkles upon his face, as if they were etched in stone. His once-bright eyes had grown cloudy, like those of a weary old man.

“Afterwards, the new family head was killed by his wife, who then took over the clan. Ironically, she was the young concubine whom the old scholar had taken late in life. To seize control over the vast clan, she began by purging the elders who opposed her. For a time, the clan split into two factions—those who supported her, and those who did not. The opposition was either killed or exiled to the fringes of the family’s lands. Anyone not her child either died or went mad; few survived her years in power.”

“Yet amid all this, something unexpected occurred. Among the opposition, someone discovered that the old family head’s eldest son still had descendants alive, and that they possessed the old family head’s token and the letter sent on his deathbed.” The wine master paused, his age now evident—such a long recounting had taxed his strength.

“And then?”

After a long silence, Yang Zixu softly asked.

“Afterwards… there was only slaughter. The backbone of the family was washed in blood, whether they supported her or opposed her. She wanted to erase every trace the old family head had left. But no matter how she tried, the seed had already been planted, and could never be fully uprooted.”

The wine master fell silent for a moment before speaking again.