Spring spread its fragrance. Swallows flew back to the eaves of the Palace. With the first mild breeze, the willows flowered. Soon their downy, silvered catkins were fluttering. The court ladies fixed colored kites to lengths of red string and made them dance in the sky. Waking became a delicious treat. The eunuchs congratulated me on my glowing good health so frequently that I felt young again. Where I had lost a tooth, a new one was growing: This miracle flooded me with childish joy. My frugal soul had been seduced by pomp and splendor. My thrifty mind stopped counting the cost. I gave sumptuous banquets and let the Zhang brothers organize extravagant shows with fireworks, animals, and acrobats from the western kingdoms.
Death was no longer an ice-cold bed, a fatal boredom. I wanted to leave this world in a whirlwind of celebrations. Politics were no longer a priority. Like a peasant who has worked hard all his life and resolves to enjoy his accumulated wealth, I decided to appoint an heir. I had to choose between my nephew and my son. The problems were still the same, but I felt less anxious when I confronted that tangle of hopes and frustrations. I was determined to be done with it. The ministers dared to give me frank advice, “Years ago the Emperor Eternal Ancestor braved the wind and the rain, and bared his life to the blade of the sword. He himself led his troops into battle to overcome disorder in this world. He founded the Tang Dynasty so that he could hand it on to his descendants. Before he died, the Emperor Lordly Ancestor entrusted his sons to you so that you might make great sovereigns of them. If Your Majesty now chooses to offer the throne to strangers, her actions would betray his wishes! Which is the more intimate connection, between a mother and her son or between a mother and her nephew? If Your Majesty appoints her son as successor, she shall still be receiving offerings in the Temple of Ancestors in ten thousand years’ time. If Your Majesty appoints her nephew… your servants have never heard of a nephew building a temple to honor his aunt!”
Lai Jun Chen was no longer there to pick out the dark plans for restoration beneath these words. Without his hissing comments, I myself was less susceptible to doubt. Granted, the imperial banners bore my colors, I had altered the calendar and the Empire venerated my ancestors as the founding sovereigns… but my husband’s Tang Dynasty lived on through his descendants and through me. Heaven’s wishes were more powerful than my own. I could not devour my own children so I decided my dynasty should not be the cause of radical revolution, no blood should flow. The forces of destiny had unarmed me for such was the destiny of the Empire. Piety the despot and Miracle the powerless emperor would see their claims brushed aside. I would call Future back from exile. This unworthy son had neglected his principle responsibility. His fourteen years banished from the Court might have put some polish on his flippancy. Now that his youth was buried in the wild mountains, he would come to me with no hint of arrogance.
AT THE BEGINNING of the first year in the era of the Divine Calendar my third son returned from the distant region in the south. At forty, the chubby, jovial prince had become a thin, stooped man with a graying beard. When he threw himself at my feet calling me “Mother” and “Majesty,” my eyes filled with tears. It was like hearing Splendor’s voice, and Wisdom’s, the echoes of their cries as tiny babies. I remembered the polo matches, the noisy celebrations with all four of my sons fighting for the golden goblet in my husband’s hand.
The past was a hurricane blasting through my dreams. How strange, how sad, to be receiving grandchildren-flesh of my flesh-who were strangers and already head and shoulders taller than me! Some had features vaguely like mine, others were like the Emperor Lordly Ancestor or their grandfather the Emperor Eternal Ancestor. Peaceful Joy, the daughter who was born on the road to exile, delivered into her father’s tunic, had grown into a princess whose beauty was mysterious and proud. Fourteen-the age at which I had come to the Imperial City for the first time. And this young girl who grew up in the wilds of the countryside like Heavenlight, was she too reeling and disorientated?
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.