Shan Sa - Empress

When he heard that his eldest brother had returned, Miracle was eager to offer him his title as Imperial Descendant. He made the request three times in writing. In the ninth month of that year I appointed Future as Supreme Son and his eldest son, Progress, as Supreme Grandson. At the same time I pronounced a Great Amnesty and gave banquets for the people. All the pomp of the celebrations was interrupted by Spirit weeping in grief: Piety had just died! He had been struck down as his father had been sixty years earlier.

General jubilation became imperial mourning. Laughter and congratulations turned to tears and lamentations. My nephew’s body went into the belly of Mount Mang. He would rest in an underground palace with funeral treasures fit for a powerful king who could so easily have been emperor. The entire Court and all of Luoyang was there to witness his journey toward Heaven. My nephew kings and my great nephew county princes wept, and their tears devastated me. I had just dashed their hopes for the future. The defeated were now open to reprisals from their victorious rivals.

I appointed Spirit as head of the Wu clan and first officiator in worshipping our ancestors, well aware that this subtle, learned man would succeed in endearing himself to the heir. To protect my clan from the possible revenge of the Tang princes, I arranged countless marriages between my granddaughters and great nephews, and ensured that my great nieces ruled in my grandsons’ households and gave them descendants. In order to calm the inevitable rivalry, I summoned Future, Miracle, Moon, Spirit, and all of their children to the Temple of Ten Thousand Elements. I stood facing the Altar of Heaven, the Altar of the Emperors of the Five Orientations, and the Altar of Ancestors. I asked my highest Court dignitaries to bear witness, and I ordered my descendants to swear on their lives to serve the dynasty together like the left arm and the right arm of one body. Their oath that they would never quarrel was inscribed on an iron blade and laid in the heart of the sanctuary.

HAVING EMERGED TRIUMPHANT from the succession crisis and free of the prosecutor Lai Jun Chen, the Court was ready to follow me to inaugurate a new era. On my way to Mount Song, I had discovered the River of Rocks, and beside it I commissioned the Palace of Solar Breath. The skilled workmen transformed the deep valley into an extraordinary garden of marvels. Pavilions with turquoise roofs blended into the luxuriant forests. Birds flew in and out of open windows and doors. Waterfalls cascaded inside pavilions built with the trunks of trees. Fish like long, translucent arrows swam beneath the crystalline floor. I kept beehives and herds of sheep. I liked watching Simplicity and Prosperity coming toward me through the huge magnolia woods, their tunics and wide sleeves flying in the wind as they brought me a chick, a fawn, or a butterfly. After two years of research, the bonze Hu Chao offered me the Immortal Remedy.

The pills he gave me warmed my entrails and made my body feel light. My hearing and eyesight improved. The world became limpid: Its waters began to whisper, bees no longer buzzed in silent abstract words. Soon I could even pick out the yawn of a leopard, the sighing of the trees, or even of the wind as it blew across the valley. Everyday I rediscovered forgotten sounds, and I listened delightedly to the creak of a shutter as it was lifted or the sneeze of a little eunuch who believed I was still deaf. To thank the gods and demonstrate my humility I renounced the title of Emperor who Holds the Mandate of Heaven and Turns the Golden Wheel. I entrusted the monk Hu Chao with a golden blade engraved with my prayer to all the gods in the universe. He toiled all the way to the summit of Mount Song and pushed it into a crack in the rock.

I set off with my lovers, sons, nephews, and ministers, on my boats decorated with dragons and phoenixes. We were an elegant gathering, all rustling silks and brocades, as we made our progress down the River of Rocks, passing cliffs where waterfalls languidly stroked the rusts and emeralds of lichens and mosses. The young princes plucked at musical instruments and the princesses danced, fan in hand. Great ministers served as cup bearers while I judged a poetry competition between my lovers, my nephews, and my sons.

The alchemy of Hu Chao’s pills gave me new energy: I undertook my last mission on this lowly earth-pacifying the murderous conflict between Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism. My dynasty would recognize these three doctrines as three pillars of Chinese thought. Any quarrels or confrontations between their adherents would be punishable by death. Gods, immortals, Buddhas, spirits, Heaven and Earth would all be considered so many different manifestations of the one God, the source of multiple divinities. In my Imperial Park there were pavilions all along the River Luo, linked by brightly colored galleries. Geese, cranes, and storks flew through the soft red twilight along the reed-lined banks. That was where I set up the Academy of Sacred Cranes, where I asked Simplicity and Prosperity to compile the great encyclopedia The Pearls of the Three Sects. With the help of illustrious scholars, they produced 1,300 volumes in which they gathered every tract on Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism. I succeeded in proving-from the way they used the same words to spread different convictions-that the three religions had the same veins through which the one and only source of Wonderment flowed.

IN THE FIRST year of the era of the Foot of Buddha, on the day we celebrated the Feast of the Moon, I hosted a banquet for 3,000 people in the Forbidden City. Lanterns and glasses full of wine floated along the city’s rivers. Lamps of jade and crystal sparkled in the trees. Acrobats vaulted through the starry sky leaving trails of pale flames behind them. Tatar dancing girls with masked faces and bare midriffs undulated between the river banks and the firework displays and snatched improvised poems from my guests’ hands. Sitting there watching those cheery, drunken faces, those dancing eyes, and smiling lips, and lulled by the hubbub of music, I succumbed to the sweetest sleep.

I was suddenly woken by a scuffle at a table in the distance. I sent my eunuchs off hastily for an explanation. My great nephew, the King of Wei, who was married to the Princess of Eternal Plenty, had just argued over a game with his cousin and brother-in-law, the Supreme Grandson. I called the two troublemakers over-one had a torn tunic, the other had blood trickling from his head. My last illusion was now shattered, and my anger soon found loose tongues willing to explain: The King of Wei, Piety’s eldest son, had accused his cousin’s family of assassinating his father. The Supreme Grandson had responded by saying that Piety had been an ungrateful intriguer. With alcohol fueling his hatred, my great nephew-who would have been the Supreme Grandson if his father had been appointed heir-vented his anger on the boy who had robbed him of his future. The two cousins who were brothers-in-law had insulted each other and come to blows. Their indignation unleashed ancient resentments. Great nephews and grandsons from both sides of my family had fought violently.

I trembled with shame and disappointment, but I did not want to spread any scandal. I silenced the servants, sent the two young princes back to their seats, and called for a deafening piece of music from the drums and mouth organs. I did not summon my two families to the Temple of Ten Thousand Elements until half a moon-phase later. I ordered the princes and princesses to kneel and asked for the iron blade, on which their oath of unity was carved, to be taken from his golden casket. There, before the Altar of Heaven, the Altar of the Emperors of the Five Orientations, and the Altar of Ancestors, I decreed that the law must be applied.