Chapter 134: The Sprouting Seed

It would be a lie to say Zhen Qian was not afraid, but was fear of any use now? To be the meat on the chopping block—this was the brutal reality of the feudal system. Of course, had Li Cui not been present, he would have assessed the situation clearly and avoided acting like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. He would have obediently offered up his distilling techniques to avert disaster. Yet, if he truly did that, would An Lushan let him go?

An Lushan kept such a large private army that money was naturally never enough. The only reason he had not yet started a massacre was that the timing and conditions were not yet ripe. However, crushing an ant like him would not require much effort; a single word from An Lushan would suffice for his subordinates to handle it. The only reason for hesitation was his status and the Zhen family behind him.

In truth, he did not want to be entangled with Li Cui, but he had been forced into it by An Lushan. Now, standing in the same camp as Li Cui, he was like someone riding a tiger—unable to get off—and all his original plans had been disrupted. Li Cui did not seem angry, nor did he expose the lie to his face, which confirmed that his relationship with An Lushan was not as harmonious as it appeared on the surface.

"I beg your Highness to show this commoner a way forward."

"Without power or influence, one can only be slaughtered by others. Although you hold an official title and have the support of the Zhen family, it can protect you for a moment, but not for a lifetime. Why did Zhen Ji enter government service? You must know that Zhen Ji returned the Emperor's imperial edicts three times. A man like that, who fears not even the Emperor, why would he immediately accept a post when An Lushan invited him? Surely you understand the reason for this!"

Zhen Qian truly did not know about Zhen Ji’s history. He only knew him as a recluse who had hidden in the deep mountains and forests for over a dozen years; as for why he lived in seclusion or why he finally chose to serve, he was truly ignorant.

"Entering service is also a form of protection—a way to safeguard yourself and your family. Consider my proposal once more. I will be leaving Luquan County in two days. Take care of yourself."

It was a headache. If he did not agree to Li Cui, An Lushan’s vindictive nature would never let him go. If he agreed to become a clerk in the Prince’s manor, he and Li Cui would be grasshoppers tied to the same string. Now, at a time of fierce struggle within and outside the court, no matter which side fell, he would be nothing more than a pawn or cannon fodder. Was his fate truly to be handed over to Li Cui?

If he could not be the helmsman of his own destiny, he would only drift with the tide and be slaughtered. Yet, Zhen Qian was unwilling. Why should his fate be controlled by others?

"No... absolutely not!"

A roar that shook the heavens erupted in Zhen Qian’s chest. *My life is determined by me, not by Heaven; if Heaven seeks to destroy me, I shall destroy Heaven.* With this thought, his gaze turned resolute, and a sneer of mockery hung on his lips. He was not at a dead end. The thousand years of history had not changed simply because of his arrival. The wheels of history rolled forward with immense inertia. An Lushan had not yet raised his banner of rebellion; Yang Guozhong was still hoarding wealth and purging loyal officials; Emperor Xuanzong of Tang and Consort Yang knew only how to play music and sing in their den of comfort, dreaming their golden dreams of a harmonious world. Everything had just begun. Did he not still have a chance to choose?

"Many thanks for your Highness’s kindness, but this commoner still wishes to live his quiet, pastoral life. If that day truly comes, I shall blame no one else!"

"It is certainly commendable to hold fast to one's own convictions..." Li Cui removed a thumb ring from his finger and placed it before Zhen Qian. "I do not know if I will be able to return to Hengzhou after this trip to the capital. Keep this ring; perhaps it will be of some help to you."

***

Li Cui was not angry; in his heart, he regarded Zhen Qian as a scholar with a backbone—the type of person who would not lower his proud head even with an axe at his neck. Such people, adhering to their ideals, often refuse to turn back until they hit a wall. It was merely a lack of life experience; not knowing when to bow one's head made suffering inevitable. The key was whether he could awaken after the ordeal.

Zhen Qian walked out of the tent. Fujiwara no Sukehito followed behind and patted his shoulder. "Come with me to Japan. This place of strife is not a place to linger..."

"Let me think about it carefully."

Seeing that Zhen Qian did not refuse outright this time, a pleased smile appeared on Fujiwara no Sukehito’s face. "I know you are reluctant to leave, but even I can see that you are surrounded by crisis and trapped on all sides. Endure for a moment and the skies will clear. Just consider it a trip to Japan to relax and see the landscapes and customs of the country."

Zhen Qian said meaningfully, "I will definitely go to Japan, but I cannot decide when for now. Perhaps this time is indeed an opportunity."

Fujiwara no Sukehito bowed to Zhen Qian. "I hope that day is not too far off. I will be returning to Yangzhou in a few days. I hope we can travel together?"

"Is Fujiwara-kun planning to return to Japan via the southern route?"

"Of course. The southeast winds will rise soon. If I do not return by the southern route, should I take the northern one?"

Zhen Qian knew that the Tang Dynasty had neither compasses nor triangular sails; sea travel relied entirely on monsoon winds. When the southeast winds rose in the spring, it was the best season for returning to Japan; the Japanese envoys to the Tang usually departed during this time. Conversely, when the envoys sailed to the Tang, they chose the season of northwest winds, riding the waves all the way.

It sounded simple, but putting it into practice was harder than ascending to heaven. Once a ship sailed into the open ocean, the vast, boundless sea became a death trap.

In this era, the transmission of news was always delayed. Zhen Ji had been conscripted a month ago; if no one had told him, the news would likely be delayed by three or four months. The poem "Ode to the Lotus" that he had plagiarized had taken half a year to reach the vicinity of Luoyang; whether it had reached Chang'an by now was hard to say.

Delay had its benefits, but also its drawbacks. In the Western Regions, it was very difficult to formulate a feasible plan in advance. Taking one step at a time was the correct way to lead; trying to plan further ahead was often a futile effort.

The same view applied to the Qinzheng Hall in Chang'an.

Chang'an had both a Qinzheng Hall and a Qinzheng Tower. The Hall was where Emperor Xuanzong handled daily affairs within the palace. The Tower was located in the Xingqing Palace, inside the Chunming Gate of the outer city, which, along with the Taiji Palace and Daming Palace, formed the "Three Great Inner Palaces." It was where the Emperor enjoyed performances, feasted officials, and received envoys. After the An Lushan Rebellion, the Xingqing Palace lost its status as a political center and became a place for the retired emperor or empress dowager to reside.

As the New Year approached, the Qinzheng Hall was brilliantly lit. The floor, paved with the finest white jade, shimmered with a warm, gentle luster. On the eaves carved from sandalwood, phoenixes spread their wings as if about to take flight. The windows were carved from green tiles, the walls were inlaid with jade, and the straight pillars were carved with lifelike dragon patterns, facing the phoenixes on the palace roof from afar...

Inside the hall, the ceiling beams were made of sandalwood from the clouds, the lamps were of crystal and jade, the curtains were of pearls, and the column bases were of gilded gold. Beside a six-foot-wide bed of agarwood hung curtains of fine gauze, embroidered with pearls and silver thread in patterns of crabapple blossoms. As the breeze stirred the gauze, it felt like falling into a sea of clouds and illusions. On the couch lay a pillow of green jade, covered by a cool, silken mat, with quilts of layered silk piled atop. A massive luminous pearl hung from the center of the hall, glowing like the moon. The floor was inlaid with gold beads in the shape of five-petaled lotus flowers; the petals were so vivid and delicate that even the stamens could be distinguished. Stepping on them barefoot, one felt only a gentle warmth—it was carved from warm Lantian jade, like walking upon jade lotus flowers with every step, rivaling the extravagance of Pan Yu'er’s legendary golden lotuses.

Such exquisite craftsmanship was surely the equal of the celestial palaces in heaven.

Above the deep red, lacquered main gate hung a black plaque of golden silk nanmu wood, with the three characters "Qinzheng Hall" inscribed in bold, majestic strokes, appearing solemn and dignified.

Behind the cascading crystal bead curtains, the figure of a woman sat playing the zither. As her fingers moved, the music flowed—sometimes ethereal, sometimes solid, ever-changing. It sounded like the clear, hollow tinkling of a mountain spring, then gathered into a gurgling stream that, with tenacious vitality, wove through mountains and treacherous reefs to merge into the surging sea, finally calming into a lingering resonance, like the splash of a fish leaping from the water.

*"Born with natural beauty that could not be cast aside, one day she was chosen to be at the monarch's side. With one glance back, she charmed a hundred beauties, and the six palaces paled in her presence."*

This woman was Yang Yuhuan, who held all the Emperor’s favor. She was not only voluptuous and beautiful but also gifted in song and dance, intelligent, and particularly skilled at pleasing others.

Ever since his favorite consort, Wu Huifei, died, Emperor Xuanzong had been depressed and despondent. Gao Lishi, his most trusted confidant, knew his master’s heart and sought out a replacement in the outer palaces. Upon seeing the peerless beauty of Lady Yang Yuhuan at the Prince of Shou’s mansion, he immediately reported to the Emperor. Disregarding the impropriety of a father-in-law taking his daughter-in-law, and with propriety and shame long forgotten, the Emperor first had Yang Yuhuan ordained as a Taoist nun, bestowed upon her the title "Taizhen," and brought her into the inner palace.

By then, Emperor Xuanzong was an old man over sixty, while Yang Yuhuan was just over thirty. The two had already spent eight years together.

Emperor Xuanzong was considered a versatile monarch in history. He was well-versed in music and skilled in clerical script. Among his works, the "Ode to the Wagtail" was the most famous. His calligraphy style was robust, graceful, and thick, inheriting the tradition of the "Two Wangs" while becoming increasingly plump and ornate.

He loved to play the pipa and the jiegu drum himself and was a talented composer, having created over a hundred pieces such as "The Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Garment Dance." His passion for song and dance became the true portrait of his later years.

On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, the Festival of Qiqiao, the two looked up at the Cowherd and Weaver Girl stars and knelt together, swearing an oath: "Life is short, but we wish to be husband and wife forever, in this life and the next!"

The poet Bai Juyi wrote the immortal lines for their vow at the Longevity Palace: *"In heaven, we wish to be as two birds flying wing to wing; on earth, we wish to be as two branches entwined in one."*

Emperor Xuanzong had not attended court for a long time. He wore a clean, bright robe of gold-threaded brocade, fitting him perfectly. He stood with his hands behind his back outside the bead curtain, his sword-like brows arched, his phoenix eyes sharp, his appearance elegant and spirited. He looked at the woman behind the curtains with eyes full of tenderness.

As the music ceased, the woman in the tent bowed gracefully: "Your concubine welcomes your Majesty!"

Emperor Xuanzong had not wanted to disturb her elegance earlier. Seeing Yang Yuhuan stand up, he reached out with his arms and gently pulled her into his embrace. "My dear consort is indeed elegant. There was a sense of excitement in the final notes of your song just now; may I ask why?"