Chapter 63: The Military Manual of the Tibetan God of War!

"On the orders of my Great Tsanpo, I present this second tribute to Your Majesty, the Emperor of the Great Tang. May it please you to accept it!"

Zhasangbu produced another box. Inside lay several sheepskin scrolls filled with writing—not Tibetan script, but Han Chinese. During the reign of Songtsen Gampo, the Tibetans had created their own writing system based on Sanskrit, a relatively simple phonetic script that could not compare to the profound and vast depth of Han Chinese characters. Consequently, the high nobility and great lords of Tibet rarely used their own script; instead, they took pride in learning and writing Chinese, often sending their children to Chang'an to study the classics of the Han civilization. However, as the Tibetans had not yet mastered papermaking, they were forced to record their texts on sheepskin, cowhide, or wooden slips.

The question remained: what was written on these scrolls that made them worthy of being a tribute?

"Reporting to Your Majesty, this is a military treatise left behind by our Tibetan God of War, Gar Tongtsen, titled *The Constant Victory Strategy*. It consists of twenty-two volumes. Its content is profound and vast, truly a supreme classic of military arts. Some time ago, the descendants of Gar Tongtsen presented this work to our Great Tsanpo. Upon reading it, the Tsanpo was greatly impressed and specifically ordered a copy to be made to share with Your Majesty!"

"Gasps!"

A wave of commotion erupted in the great hall. Li Longji and his court officials changed countenance once more, and far more severely than before. It was all for one reason: the name "Gar Tongtsen."

Decades ago, he was the legendary Tibetan God of War—a man of both literary and military genius, skilled in the art of war. He had defeated the Tang armies multiple times, and even the famed general Xue Rengui had suffered a crushing defeat at his hands, fleeing in total disarray. To speak bluntly, at the time, the mere mention of the name "Gar Tongtsen" within the borders of the Great Tang was enough to stop a crying child at night. If not for Empress Wu Zetian’s successful use of a counter-espionage plot to have the Tibetans eliminate him themselves, the western territories of the Tang might well have been lost entirely.

No one had expected that this long-deceased Tibetan general had left behind a military treatise, nor that the Tibetan Tsanpo would send an envoy to present it. Was this not a blatant provocation? It was essentially a declaration of war.

"Ancient Sun Tzu said: 'War is a matter of vital importance to the state; the province of life or death; the road to survival or ruin, it must be thoroughly examined.' Furthermore, in war, there are no constant conditions, just as there is no constant form in water. One must adapt to the terrain and the shifting situation; these cannot be transmitted in advance. Thus, it is said that the perception of the enemy lies in the heart, and the observation of opportunity lies in the eyes. Yet, war is not something to be desired; victory is not something to be profited from. Therefore, those who delight in war shall perish, and those who seek profit from victory shall be humiliated..."

Perhaps feeling that the provocation had not been enough, Zhasangbu stood in the middle of the hall, unfurled the sheepskin scroll, and began to read aloud before the court. The Tang monarch and his ministers had no choice but to listen in silence.

The treatise written by Gar Tongtsen clearly bore the influence of Han classics, drawing heavily from *The Art of War* by Sun Tzu. Yet, one had to admit that it surpassed its sources; it not only absorbed the essence of Sun Tzu’s work but also formed an independent set of insights regarding the relationship between politics, economy, and military affairs. In terms of tactics, it advocated never fighting an uncertain battle, opposed passive defense, and emphasized the use of stratagems to seize the initiative, closely observing the enemy, concentrating forces, and winning through surprise.

Possessing such high-level strategic awareness, it was no wonder Gar Tongtsen had been able to dominate the battlefield and remain undefeated. A truly exceptional figure!

Zhasangbu finished reading *The Constant Victory Strategy* in one breath, placed it back into the wooden box, and handed it to a young eunuch. The eunuch passed it to Gao Lishi, who then placed it upon the imperial desk. Looking at the book before him, Li Longji felt as if he had swallowed a fly—it was utterly nauseating.

The Great Tang Empire was a land of flourishing culture. It often bestowed poetry and classics upon surrounding vassal states and tribes, a practice referred to as "civilizing the barbarians and awakening their wisdom." For instance, when Princess Wencheng was sent for marriage, she brought a vast number of Confucian and Buddhist classics to the high plateau, which the Tibetans had celebrated as if they were divine scriptures. Now, the roles were reversed: the Tibetans were gifting a book to the Tang, and it was a military manual at that. Was this not a blatant slap in the face?

What to do? How could they reclaim their dignity? Li Longji was momentarily at a loss and glanced at his ministers. The ministers were equally helpless and collectively turned their heads to look at Li Zhao, who was standing at the end of the line.

Li Zhao: "..."

What was this? Were they really pinning all their hopes on him?

Fine. Since it concerned national dignity and ethnic honor, he had to step up. But what method should he use? Li Zhao patted his small belly, letting his devious thoughts churn. Soon, a brilliant plan emerged, consisting of twelve words: "What is yours is mine, and what is mine remains my own."

With his mind made up, Li Zhao stepped forward. "Reporting to Your Majesty, I have something to submit!"

"Speak."

"As you command. According to my knowledge, the military strategy just recited by the envoy Zhasangbu did not originate from Gar Tongtsen, nor is it titled *The Constant Victory Strategy*. It is actually the posthumous work of a hidden master from our Han lands, titled *The Wumu Legacy*."

"Gasps!"

Once Li Zhao’s words were out, a great uproar broke out. What was this? The book wasn't written by the Tibetan God of War, but was the work of a Han master? Did that mean the Tibetans were shamelessly plagiarizing? If this were true, it would be a humiliation of the highest order!

"You ignorant child! How dare you spout such nonsense? This is clearly a military text written by our Tibetan God of War. What could it possibly have to do with your Han people?"

"Hehe, noble envoy, do not try to argue against the truth. This is clearly a Han classic known as *The Wumu Legacy*. I am untalented, but I read this book when I was seven. Though many years have passed, I can still recite it by heart."

"What? You can recite this military manual?"

"That is correct. If you do not believe me, I can recite it for you..."

Right there in the middle of the hall, Li Zhao began to recite. The result was word-perfect, matching the content of *The Constant Victory Strategy* exactly.

Looking at Zhasangbu and his Tibetan attendants, they were all completely stunned. This military manual had been presented to the Great Tsanpo by the descendants of Gar Tongtsen only a few months prior. The descendants had made it clear that after the book was written, it had been kept in their family collection, never shown to outsiders, and seen by only a handful of people within the clan. When the Tsanpo received it, he treated it like a priceless treasure, keeping the original and ordering a copy to be sent to the Tang to flaunt their military power and gain some prestige for the Tibetans. They had never imagined that instead of gaining face, they would end up in such an embarrassing situation.

How could a young Han boy recite the contents of the book without a single mistake? What was going on? Could it really be the work of a Han master? If Gar Tongtsen had plagiarized it and shamelessly claimed it as his own decades ago... that would be a humiliation beyond words!

"I said as much—how could a bunch of barbarians who wear animal skins and drink blood possibly write a military treatise? It turns out it was plagiarized from the works of our Han predecessors!"

"Plagiarizing in secret is one thing, but to dare and present it openly to the Tang as their own work? Their skin is thicker than the city walls of Chang'an!"

"Hehe, those who have no shame are invincible; the ancients never lied to me!"

In the great hall, the ministers began to make cutting remarks, each more malicious and biting than the last. If there had been a crack in the floor, the Tibetans would have crawled into it; they were utterly humiliated.

Fortunately, Li Longji was magnanimous. He waved his hand to stop the officials and ordered Gao Lishi to return the military manual to Zhasangbu. Not only that, he commanded the officials of the Ministry of Rites to quickly prepare thousands of volumes of Confucian, Mohist, Legalist, Buddhist, and Taoist classics to be bestowed upon Zhasangbu to take back to Tibet. The implication was clear: the Great Tang’s culture was flourishing, and with the teachings of the Hundred Schools of Thought, the Tibetans would never catch up, even in a thousand years. They should just stick to being students!

In this round, the Tang side won decisively. However, amidst the victory, some clever people vaguely felt that something was not quite right. Gar Tongtsen was a legendary God of War; would a man like that truly plagiarize? And as for *The Wumu Legacy*—if it were a work by a Han master, why had no one ever heard of it?

Li Longji was one of these clever ones, but since he could not ask directly, he looked toward Li Zhao, who was standing nearby. Li Zhao secretly made a face and pointed at his own ear.

The answer was revealed: the story of *The Wumu Legacy* was pure fiction. The military manual was indeed written by the Tibetan God of War, Gar Tongtsen.

How could Li Zhao recite it? It was simple: rote memorization. Li Zhao possessed an extraordinary memory; not only could he remember everything he saw, but he could also remember everything he heard. No matter the book, as long as he heard someone recite it once, he could commit it firmly to heart. Zhasangbu had made a fatal mistake—he should never have been so arrogant as to read the book aloud in the great hall. As a result, Li Zhao had memorized every word, allowing for the subsequent reversal that reclaimed the court’s honor.