Styled as Song

Simin Commandery. The night was deep, with a pale gray mist just beginning to edge the horizon. The moon’s luster was faint and dimmed, while the stars shone brightly, waiting for the sun that would soon rise. The palace gates and halls were sealed tight. Yellow brocade hung from the balustrades, and black-patterned green latticework gave off a dim sheen in the shadows. Soldiers and generals clad in dark blue-black armor stood silently before the steps. The entire palace compound was hushed in absolute stillness, broken only by the occasional cry of a crane echoing among the beams. Now and then, a gentle breeze brushed past, stirring the hanging yellow brocade. The plaque above the grand hall bore a pitch-black background with golden calligraphy, gleaming with a rich golden light in the night. “Hall of Fengwu.” Up in the sky, hundreds upon thousands of white cranes circled the hall in unison, their wings blotting out the heavens. From time to time, one or two fluttered down to alight upon the palace eaves or beside the steps, folding their wings and drawing in their legs as if pretending to slumber. The front of the hall was adorned with ribbons of brocade resembling long serpents, and on all four sides ran inner courtyards and pathways of vermilion steps where water and fire entwined like snakes. Across the vast, dark-red plaza, a lampstand stood every ten paces. It was filled with kneeling cultivators, all dressed in uniform attire, their foreheads pressed against the stone without the slightest twitch or motion. Proceeding outward for a hundred zhang brought one to a flight of nine steps. Beneath the vermilion steps lay another broad terrace, densely packed with kneeling men and women of various ages dressed in plain blue-black unlined robes. Arranged according to complementary yin and yang in their proper directions, they matched one-to-one with those atop the steps—all of them bloodline descendants. Even with tens of thousands of cultivators kneeling there, the entire palace grounds remained eerily quiet. Only as the morning light gradually crept up the grand hall did it illuminate two figures standing beside the hall at the highest elevation. The man thrust out his chest and held his head high with an arrogant, resolute expression, wearing green robes. At one side of his waist hung an unopened scroll, at the other hung a golden talisman, and he cradled a sword in his arms. The woman standing opposite him wore only a plain white robe, serenely cradling a dark wooden box carved with blue-black patterns. The box seemed to contain something alive; it twitched in strange, unnatural jolts from time to time, spewing intertwined bursts of water and fire that merely slid harmlessly off her fair, tender arms without causing the slightest injury. Nine steps further up, beside the palace hall, stood a tall, slender man whose golden eyes glanced all around. He had handsome features, wore white beneath, a tied-and-dyed silk undergarment in the middle, and an outer dark robe patterned in white with a straight collar and symmetrical lapels, adorned with crane feathers at the shoulders that made his tall stature stand out all the more. It was none other than Li Jiangliang. His expression was solemn and grave. He waited until the stars’ intermingling brilliance slowly dimmed and he could wait no longer. Prostrating himself before the steps, he said respectfully, “May Your Majesty ascend the throne, ride the transformations of water and fire, harness the auspicious signs of entwined serpents, and properly face south to rule. The common beings across the four seas could not be more fortunate.” The man waited before the steps for a time. An inner official listened by the hall’s side for a while before calling out respectfully, “Lord Li, please enter.” Li Jiangliang’s expression shifted slightly. He gave a formal salute and entered through the side hall. Beyond the side hall lay eighteen steps, each a deep, vivid red. Purple air poured down the steps like a cascading waterfall, bringing an ethereal sense of wonder that refreshed the mind. Ascending the eighteen steps, he saw a side door with a dark blue-black ground and golden patterns. Pushing the door open, a dense fragrance of sandalwood rushed into his nostrils. Smoke and mist drifted through the palace, and within the fragrant sandalwood haze stood several white silhouettes. They were several entirely naked, hairless women with rounded cheeks and fair skin. Some held blue-gold ceremonial robes, others held dark blue-black ribbons, crouching or standing in varying postures, completely motionless like statues. These women stood arranged in rows of differing heights. Behind the immortal throne at the center were carvings of dragons and phoenixes, and painted along both sides were two flood dragon beasts whose bodies stretched on and on like great serpents. Beside the throne stood a young man clad in a simple white robe, his long hair trailing loose down his back, facing away from him. Li Jiangliang did not dare raise his eyes. Instead, he stepped back and knelt before the threshold, bowing low as he said, “Your Majesty’s benevolence bathes all living beings, and your Dao-light shines over all. As a subject of mortal and impure flesh, I dare not ascend into the Immortal Hall of Fengwu, but can only prostrate before the steps to receive the immortal command.” His slightly trembling voice echoed in the hall. From above came a cool, aloof voice like ice: “Enter the hall.” Li Jiangliang had no choice but to rise and step over the threshold. The moment his feet touched down, he felt a sharp, brittle crackle beneath his soles. Underneath the white qi lay thick brine that had crystallized and fused with frost and snow into a sheet of glistening crystal. Li Jiangliang concealed his shock and walked slowly until he was ten paces away from him, stopping just before the assembly of statue-like women. He bowed. “Your servant is here.” Only then did the man above turn around and descend the steps. Purple qi surged outward and white frost condensed in his wake. His face had short, dark eyes and handsome brows, and he stared intently at him. “Come here.” Li Jiangliang murmured an apology and promptly took the dark blue-black inner robe from a woman’s hands to drape it over his shoulders. Yang Zhuo gazed quietly at him and said, “Back then, when I stepped in on the road to reclaim the embezzled cultivation resources for one or two minor cultivators, I happened to see you traveling south, which led to our acquaintance… Looking back now, it is as vivid as yesterday.” He smiled faintly and arched his brows. “Have you ever considered… just how much of that was calculated?” At the mention of this, Li Jiangliang cast his gaze down and replied, “To report to Your Majesty… Jiangliang sees no calculation in it. It was merely that my lifelong wish found a place to rest—to not perish in the petty, shameful survival of the clan, and to possess the power to deliver the common people. That alone is enough…” “Deliver the common people…” Yang Zhuo watched him quietly. His lips parted slightly, but he spoke no further on it. Composing his expression, he said, “You have known me since youth, you are my brother-in-law, and you stand uniquely above all other ministers. Today, a share of the merit belongs to you.” Li Jiangliang dared not accept it in the slightest. Bowing deeply, he said, “Your Majesty is the lord of ten thousand chariots, receiving the mandate of Heaven by predetermined fate. It is not something your servant can claim merit for. I wish only to attend before the hall and obey your every command.” Yang Zhuo continued to stare at him. “You should not say such things. Were it not for you, who knows how many fewer subjects the Great Song would have today, or how many more useless freeloaders would occupy high posts? Although becoming emperor does not grant me a Golden Core, my might will still be boundless. You deserve a share of the light.” “I rely entirely on the imperial favor.” Yang Zhuo looked away and said casually, “Among all the princes, the Prince of Wei is of the highest noble standing; he contends for the providence of north and south and establishes order among the various sects of Huaizuo. His descendants naturally cannot go without rewards. When kings are enfeoffed today, which envoy should be sent?” Li Jiangliang simply lifted the white silk undergarment and the black outer robe with an embroidered collar and blue borders to dress him, answering, “Your servant must avoid suspicion and dares not answer.” Yang Zhuo glanced at him and said, “It would be awkward for you to go. Let Real Person Ning go instead.” Li Jiangliang bowed subserviently and proceeded to add the imperial ceremonial robe. He listened as this reincarnated True Qi, this nobleman of supreme nobility, said indifferently, “Around the Lixia region, when the Dayu Path brought calamity and ruin, it was I who gave the order not to kill a single person. My word went forth and all cultivators followed. Only you advised me not to let the remnants spill into the commandery. Who is loyal and who is treacherous is plain to see.” Li Jiangliang hesitated for a moment. Instead of reaching for the next ribbon, he knelt on the ground and whispered, “Your servant is ignorant and does not understand… Since Your Majesty possessed the power to cleanse them, why not deploy your divine wonders to liberate them in one breath and dissolve the karmic force of the Golden Lotus, rather than allowing them into the commandery… I fear an evil cult will rise again in Lixia hereafter, and peace will not return for a century.” Yang Zhuo’s eyes fixed quietly on him as he answered, “Where the karmic force of the Golden Lotus resides, once altered, it is altered. It is equivalent to having made them read scripture for all those years. Even though Dayu has retreated, they remain bewitched. When a person has seen ghosts and monsters, even if I banish those ghosts and monsters, I still cannot restore their mind to that of one who has never seen them—unless I reach into their souls. “Now, there is only devotion that arises spontaneously from the heart. If someone is willing to believe in Shakya, and you alter him through divine wonders, you become no different from Shakya cultivators. “Transforming the worldly through one’s own will is the orthodox lineage of Emperor Wei and the God of the Soil, not the Path of Tianwu. When Dayu brought calamity, the multitude of Lixia did not have the freedom to disbelieve. Now that I rule the world, they have the freedom not to believe in me. Since the Dayu Path has departed, I want them to choose for themselves.” Li Jiangliang had no choice but to lower his head and reply, “Your servant was rash.” Sitting back on his knees, he picked up the white jade boots with dark patterns. As Yang Zhuo lifted his feet, he said, “Now that the new dynasty is established, your father is in the north, but Jiaozhi cannot be lost; a protector general must be appointed. Since Liu Bai has reached the Purple Mansion and holds the military talisman of the State of Chu, you shall make a trip to Jiaozhi and have him garrison it.” “As for the protectorate’s name…” He paused, and Li Jiangliang said respectfully, “We have discussed it. Jiaozhi looks down upon Shitang and bears the duty of pacifying an entire sea. In the Song Dynasty, it could be called ‘Jinghai’—Pacifying the Sea.” Those words made Yang Zhuo’s pupils dilate slightly. He frowned. “Ignorant… The character ‘Jing’ is improper; it infringes upon an Exalted One’s taboo name. Replace it with the ‘Jing’ meaning tranquility. Suppress it with stillness, establish it in eternal peace—call it the Jinghai Protectorate.” “Understood!” Li Jiangliang did not dare ask which Exalted One’s taboo had been infringed. He hastily agreed, kneeling firmly as he raised the imperial crown—rounded in front and square behind, hung with twelve tassels of five colors—and lowered his head extremely low. He naturally had no right to place this imperial crown upon Yang Zhuo’s head. Yet this soon-to-be Emperor of Song held the crown without speaking. Staring at it, he said coldly, “The imperial mandate… originated in Wei, and the imperial crown likewise mimics Wei. Rounded in front and square behind, it represents the supreme yang pivot of heaven and earth; five colors and twelve tassels represent the five virtues and twelve qi. Qi and Liang merely parroted others—one was Xi Qi, the other was Sui Qi, each nothing more than one of another’s twelve tassels, yet they too wore this imperial crown. “Now that True Qi has attained the Dao, copying the Wei system—what does that mean?” Li Jiangliang felt a chill in his heart. This imperial protocol had not been concocted by Li Jiangliang alone; he had verified every detail with Yang Tianyou, tracing it all the way back to Yang Ruiyi… Yang Zhuo’s question was by no means directed solely at him! Yet even if it was not meant for him, he still had to answer. He said respectfully, “Reporting to Your Majesty, the Emperor transcended the mundane and ruled with hands folded. Though Ning observed the Wei calendar, it was established jointly by the various houses, adopting the five colors and twelve tassels. Today, as True Qi is reestablished, it should follow the old system.” “The Emperor,” Yang Zhuo said with raised brows. “Those who cultivate immortality are fond of the word ‘True.’ To seize the creation of heaven and earth and deem it True—Tianwu became True and was an Emperor; he did not become True because he was an Emperor. Thus, he was commonly called True Monarch. Is this imperial mandate not completely superfluous?” Cold sweat broke out on Li Jiangliang. He could only say respectfully, “It is solely to bring peace to the world!” “Hahahahaha!” Yang Zhuo put on the imperial crown. Li Jiangliang knelt beside him, feeling dense clouds of mist billow out from his surroundings, knowing that the Emperor of Song was stepping steadily down from the white vapors. The Emperor of Song halted before the hall doors, resting one hand upon the palace gate as he said indifferently, “You call him the Emperor, yet you do not realize he sought Truth, not the throne. The so-called ‘rectifying nature and curbing lust’ was the handiwork of those before him. His benevolence and might were boundless, yet who knows toward whom his benevolence was directed? In any case, it was not toward the common beings—if the common beings were more important than seeking Truth, why would he ever depart beyond the realm?” Li Jiangliang had no idea how to answer him. He could only watch him stroll out of the grand hall. Outside, deafening cheers shook the heavens. Water and fire surged, the sky took on shades of heavy indigo and vibrant blue, and countless rays of profound light filled the air. One brightly colored serpent after another fell from the sky, writhing and crawling across the pristine white steps. The purple mist before Li Jiangliang’s eyes grew denser and denser; he felt only cold, slimy snakes coiling around his arms, weaving past him one after another. Strangely, not a shred of joy rose in his heart, only endless bewilderment and even a bizarre sense of dislocation. Back then, when he escorted the convoy south, had the bold hero who drank wine and shared his heart with him… really been this Emperor of Song? ‘If pacifying the State of Yue and founding a dynasty back then was not what you sought, where did such a grand situation come from? How could the Yang Zhuo of that day have spoken such words… Your Majesty… what is it you truly want to do?’ Outside, the bells and cauldrons rang in unison, and ceremonial officials chanted the rites, seemingly conducting the conferral of honors. Faint snatches of the announcements drifted in. Li Jiangliang simply knelt in the hall, noticing that the white mist around him had swiftly dispersed, while those female forms remained solidified within the hall. These bodies had long since hardened like jade, turning into pristine stone, yet beneath their white surface lay a tender flush of pink. A faint peach fragrance wafted from them, and their eyes were bright and lively, as though every one of them might spring to life at any moment. He rose slightly, keeping his lowered head turned toward the sovereign, and stepped out naturally from the side to kneel outside the hall. Dong! A mystical bell tolled loudly. As the officials kowtowed, tens of thousands of white cranes descended from the sky. Spreading their wings, they flew over countless kneeling cultivators and fluttered down onto the lower terrace, landing amidst the thousands upon thousands of male and female descendants. These cranes were colossal, bringing rolling gales and swirling water and fire, yet the men and women kneeling on the ground seemed completely oblivious. They simply allowed the cranes to land, perching one by one on the lampstands nearby. Dong! With another kowtow, the massive white cranes standing among the crowd rose onto one leg. Their expansive wings spread wide in time with the sound of bells and cauldrons, draping over the men and women to their left and right without a single gap, leaving nothing below the steps but an endless expanse of white. This white blended seamlessly into the white of the sky, blinding Li Jiangliang’s eyes for a moment and causing him to lower his head in haste. “The heavenly count of succession has descended upon Xiuwu. Gaining a kingdom between the Huai, bringing order to chaos and aiding the people across many years… And since Tianwu passed from the world, it was near to ruin… In this year of turmoil amidst water and fire, the true nature resides in my person. Following the immortal mandate, we renew Xiuwu… Entrusted above the millions of people, founding the state and establishing lords, fulfilling the hopes of the various houses, we establish the realm and ascend as Emperor…” A magnificent immortal voice resonated through the air. Endless streams of water and fire rolled across the sky. Yang Zhuo took a step forward and said indifferently: “Its name shall be Song.” Dong! Li Jiangliang raised his head once more. It was the twilight hour before dawn; the moon was dim and the sun had not yet risen, but a star as bright as the sun suddenly blazed with radiant light, shining across the world like a deity of the profound heavens quietly gazing down upon the earth. The light was piercing, bringing unbidden tears to Li Jiangliang’s eyes. The Xiuwu Star shone bright! Weng… In an instant, heaven and earth were bathed in brilliance, and the Great Void reverberated. Water and fire intertwined, shaking the world. Cultivators throughout all of Jiangnan lifted their heads to look at the sky, exchanging terrified glances! ‘The celestial signs have shifted!’ The Great Void grew livelier still. From the desolate, empty darkness emerged ray after ray of colored light—some pinched their fingers in divination, others pondered deeply with bowed heads in silence. ‘The spiritual atmosphere has shifted…’ Yet beneath the grand hall, there was only dread. Even the Real Persons waiting before the hall lowered their brows in silence. Suddenly, a clear, ringing voice sounded from the side, filled with reverence and solemnity: “The Ning clan…” “Presents a pair of dragon tendons to Your Majesty!”