BST - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Age of Chaos Begins with a Dead Emperor
My head hurts...
It hurts like hell!
The pain jolted her half-awake out of a drowsy dream.
The sounds around her all seemed to have changed pitch, tumbling into her ears all at once.
She tried to reach up to cover her ears and force the heavy, splitting headache to subside, but someone had pinned her hands and she could not lift them.
Then her scalp was jerked twice, tugging as though to tear her hair out by the roots.
She could not help but let out a hiss of pain.
Yet it brought not a moment's hesitation or pity from whoever had hold of her.
In the suffocation that very nearly stopped her breath, someone wound cloth tight around her waist and wrenched it hard.
She strained to make out the voices. All she heard were cries growing clearer by the moment: "Crown Princess! Crown Princess!"
"Ah!"
Wang Shen'ai finally woke completely.
The candlelight flickered and guttered, casting shadows on the palace chamber walls like specters with their claws outstretched, looming over her from on high as if to swallow her whole.
The palace attendants before her were wrapping her in a pleated train and tying her sash, and to make her waist look narrower and her robes more ethereal, they pulled the ties tighter still.
The tall coiffure with its trailing streamers was already combed into place; only the final touches of makeup remained.
To one side an attendant waited holding a buyao crown inlaid with gold and turquoise, and the candlelight caught a gleam of precious jade upon it.
Another came from the far side carrying a sapphire-blue outer cloak.
Wang Shen'ai held her breath.
Face after face before her, painted dead white, came and went through her still-blurred vision, and she felt as though she were still dreaming.
Yet it was precisely that instant of clarity that made her suddenly realize everything she had seen before she closed her eyes had been no illusion, and that trying to fall back asleep would not carry her back to her own world.
She opened her eyes and it was still this strange world, announcing a terrible fact:
She... she had truly crossed over, and into the body of a girl who bore the exact same name as hers.
But this girl, also called Wang Shen'ai, was only thirteen this year, and already held a station of the highest honor.
"Crown Princess, were you having a nightmare?"
A mouth painted with "little red spring" rouge opened and closed right in front of her face.
Only now could Wang Shen'ai tear free of the attendants' hands, and she rubbed at her still-throbbing temple.
She drew a breath so faint it could hardly be heard, then spoke in as composed a tone as she could manage: "It is nothing. I had a nightmare. Today..."
She looked out through the half-open window and drew in a soft hiss of a breath. "Why is it so early today!"
From the memories of the other "Wang Shen'ai," she knew that it was now the ninth month.
In Jiankang the ninth month was already deep autumn, yet the weather could still be called pleasant. For a Crown Princess rising to pay her respects to her elders, the dawn would by then have whitened the horizon, nothing at all like the pitch darkness now.
Within the hall the palace lanterns interlaced their light; without, lines of torches and wind-lanterns hurried to and fro, and through the palace walls one could see a spread of open flame. Yet the night overhead remained deep, and all that fire could not burn through the dead, heavy vault of the sky.
This was no hour to be out of bed.
The attendant in the direction of Wang Shen'ai's gaze let her lips tremble. "Outside... something has happened outside."
She looked down at the sash tied to utter perfection and felt the absurdity of it to the bone.
What sort of disaster allowed for this? Who still had the leisure to dress with such exquisite care!
But when the attendants led her out of the hall and she saw the other consorts and servants hurrying over, she realized that hers was not a special case.
The palace's silver pillars and golden columns shone with an overwhelming opulence in the lamplight, glinting back and forth with the gold and jade ornaments on colored sashes and green skirts; wherever she looked, there was not a trace of anything bedraggled.
Wang Shen'ai finally felt one more degree of the reality that she had crossed over into this place.
This was no longer the twenty-first century she had left behind. It was the Eastern Jin!
A dynasty little recorded in history, yet one that prized the ideal of walking out of a burning hall with graceful bearing and unruffled composure.
No wonder that, even with the word that "something has happened," the attendants who hauled her from her bedding still had the skill to paint and dress her so quickly.
And yet, even though Wang Shen'ai had run through words like "Eastern Jin," "uprising," "palace coup," and "anyone can be emperor" in her head as she hurried out of the hall, ready to flee at any moment, she had not expected, when she raised her eyes to the still-black sky, to see a sight like this.
The stars and the moon had both dimmed away, leaving only a vault of blue so deep it turned black.
Yet that vault was not empty.
In the patch of night sky visible between the glazed tiles and golden fittings, churning black clouds gathered at an impossible speed; the closer they drew together, the more they seemed splashed with the color of snow, massing into an enormous rectangle.
To Wang Shen'ai, who came from a later age, this was unmistakably the shape of a screen.
But to the people of this time, the officials of the Bureau of Astronomy who studied the stars and the calendar could only stare up at that vast curtain in the sky in helpless panic, as if racking their brains for some reason that would explain the celestial phenomenon.
More astonishing still, the great whitening rectangle in the night sky seemed to have drawn in every bit of light from the heavens, and then, slowly, it began to glow.
Wang Shen'ai's eyes went wide.
For there on that "screen," a border unfolding slowly from the upper left corner to the lower right looked exactly like a video site she had used often before crossing over, with only the subtlest differences. And at the center of the glowing screen, a figure had appeared, wearing a face-obscuring filter.
The instant that figure appeared, the sounds of people dropping to their knees rose all around her, as though they had taken the person on the Heavenly Screen for an immortal.
Among them, one person's behavior stood out sharply.
"Fun... so much fun!" A youth of fifteen or sixteen was beside himself with excitement, the sleepiness swept clean from his face; he flung his limbs about and clapped his hands hard twice, staring up at the figure in the sky.
He seemed overjoyed that someone had roused him in the middle of the night to let him see such a spectacle.
Had the attendants not fallen silent as winter cicadas and dropped in a row to their knees, no one would have doubted that this youth would dare have a ladder brought so that he could climb up for a better look.
Compared with everyone else in their neat attire, this youth was the odd one out, for he still had a winter cloak slung about him.
He saw nothing at all amiss in it, his eyes still shining as he gazed up at the Heavenly Screen.
The attendants serving him were nearly in tears. "...Crown Prince!"
Stop this...
If they offended the immortals, not even the Crown Prince would come off well, to say nothing of the fact that this youth, Sima Dezong, was a fool who could not tell summer from winter!
Were he not the emperor's eldest son, and were there not a precedent before him of a feebleminded eldest son ascending the throne, the position of Crown Prince could never have fallen to him.
"Crown Prince!" Someone else tried to warn him in a low voice.
Sima Dezong noticed nothing at all.
Just then the figure on the Heavenly Screen spoke, drowning out the attendant's voice entirely, seizing all of his attention and leaving everyone else no leisure to remind the Crown Prince of his rudeness.
[Hello, everyone on Yousite! My recent history roundup videos haven't gotten many views, so forgive me for chasing the trend and reheating old leftovers as I bring you another round of the Yong'an Emperor, who put an end to the chaos of the Northern and Southern Dynasties.]
[I've put the trend-chasing right up front, so you're not allowed to scold me. If I've gotten anything wrong in this video, please correct me in the bullet comments and the comments section.]
"What... what is that thing!" A cry rang out from the crowd, and the speaker was instantly shoved to the ground.
How could they interrupt an immortal speaking from the Heavenly Screen?
They could not even understand some of the words she used, let alone what she meant by "views on a history video" or "chasing the trend," and they had no idea who this "Yong'an Emperor" might be.
They could only watch the unfamiliar characters scrolling across the Heavenly Screen; only the "immortal's" spoken words were transformed into a manner of speech they could understand.
Listen. Just keep listening.
An immortal's words naturally had an immortal's reasoning. Even if it sounded at first like a storyteller, it was still an immortal's storytelling.
The person on the Heavenly Screen went on:
[There are plenty of videos about Emperor Yong'an, but most begin with the emperor holding the Son of Heaven hostage to control the court. I take a different approach. To pad the runtime, I've decided to push the timeline back a bit and show how hard it was for Emperor Yong'an to rise above such a situation.]
[Enough talk; let's get to the point. In this video I'll divide the Yong'an Emperor's life into four stages. The first stage is called 'Before the Dawn.']
The figure on the Heavenly Screen suddenly vanished.
In its place, a large crimson-gold title appeared against a black background.
They seemed to read "Before the Dawn."
The next moment a cry rose from the crowd.
After the title appeared, the picture did not cut back to the "storyteller" but to an overhead view.
Beneath high towers and Buddhist temples, the dense houses of Jiangnan were cradled within walls encircled by the river, light and shadow shifting across them as the clouds rolled and the sun and moon rose and set.
This was...
"Jiankang City!"
This was the Jiankang where they stood.
Only the viewpoint of an immortal or a bird could take in the whole of Jiankang at such an angle.
So that when the voice on the screen sounded again, the attendants crowded together here had already returned to utter silence.
['Before the Dawn,' meaning the crucial moment of an imperial succession and a changing age, before the Yong'an Emperor stepped onto the stage as a statesman.]
[Some say that the death of Emperor Xiaowu of the Eastern Jin, and the accession of his son, a fool of an emperor who could not tell summer from winter, was the beginning of the world's troubles. But others say it was precisely the opportunity for a wise ruler to emerge from a troubled age. And it was because of this peculiar emperor that the Yong'an Emperor was cursed for more than ten years as one who held the Son of Heaven hostage to control the court.]
[But however you look at it, for over a thousand years no one has failed to praise Emperor Yong'an's eye for talent, skill in commanding armies, pacification of the north and south, and care for the people's livelihood, until at last a Yong'an golden age was achieved.]
[Let us set aside everything that comes after for now, go back to the death of Emperor Xiaowu, and look at the state of affairs at that time.]
[Open the history books, and this day is recorded there to the letter.]
A line of writing appeared on the screen, floating over Jiankang like drifting clouds, accompanied by the "storyteller's" voice:
[The gengshen day of the ninth month in the twenty-first year of Taiyuan.]
Wang Shen'ai's eyes went wide in shock once more.
The gengshen day of the ninth month in the twenty-first year of Taiyuan?
She carried the memories of the original "Wang Shen'ai." Though she had not yet absorbed them all, they were enough for her to judge that the date shown on the Heavenly Screen was no other time. It was today!
And she was not alone. The attendants, who had kept silent under that awe-inspiring presence, once more could not hold back their cries.
The title "Emperor Xiaowu" was unmistakably posthumous, and told them nothing about who was meant. But the era name Taiyuan, and above all those words "the twenty-first year of Taiyuan, the ninth month, a gengshen day," were things they knew only too well.
That was the current era name, the current date!
At once the attendants turned trembling eyes toward the Heavenly Screen, and in them was not only reverence but unmitigated fear.
The immortal on the Heavenly Screen had said that Emperor Xiaowu, that is, their present Majesty, would die today; that the throne would pass to that fool of a Crown Prince; and that later a highly capable "Yong'an Emperor" would hold the Son of Heaven captive and subdue the court for more than ten years before ruling all under heaven. Did that not mean today was the beginning of the upheaval?
"Where is His Majesty?"
A clear, cool voice suddenly broke through the frozen moment.
The attendants turned to see the young Crown Princess fighting down the panic on her childish face, yet still biting her lower lip as she put the question.
Yes... yes! They had to find His Majesty!
Though today was the day of His Majesty's death as the immortal on the Heavenly Screen had told it, so long as they had not yet seen him, there might still be hope of turning things around and evading this doom.
To the attendants present, that so-called "Yong'an Emperor" who would pacify the realm had not yet shown his face and had nothing to do with them. As the palace retinue of "Emperor Xiaowu," their fates had long been bound to those of this Eastern Jin dynasty.
This was the life-and-death crisis bearing down upon them right now!
From the trembling crowd came a voice: "The one His Majesty is visiting tonight... is Noble Lady Zhang."
"Then what are we waiting for."
"Quickly! Quickly, to Noble Lady Zhang's bedchamber!"
By now no one had the leisure to wonder why everyone else had been roused and dressed and stood outside the hall, while His Majesty, who was with Noble Lady Zhang, was nowhere to be seen. Finding him first, finding the pillar of this palace, could hardly be wrong.
Wang Shen'ai kept her head down, struggling through her tangled thoughts to recall the life of her namesake, while overhead the Heavenly Screen did not stop its cadence and went on with its popular history lesson.
[The harem of Emperor Xiaowu of the Eastern Jin was very simple. Perhaps it was because the times were in turmoil and there was not so much ink to spare for describing his harem. Only three consorts with formal ranks are recorded.]
[The first is Wang Fahui, Empress Ding of Xiaowu, who died at twenty-one. You can tell from the surname that she came from the Wang clan of Jinyang, of a distinguished house; and so when Sima Yao ascended the throne she was made empress. It is only that she died too young.]
[The second is Chen Guinu, who held the rank of Lady of Pure Beauty. She bore in turn the emperor's eldest son Sima Dezong and his second son Sima Dewen, leaving Sima Yao two sons as heirs, so that although she came from the music bureau, she still held her place among the Nine Consorts. Sadly, though both her sons eventually became emperor, she was not destined to see it; she died of illness when her second son was only four, and received only a posthumous title.]
[The last is Noble Lady Zhang.]
[According to the histories, Noble Lady Zhang was captivating and exceptionally beautiful. After Chen Guinu died of illness, she became Sima Yao's darling, rising steadily and enjoying his favor for ten long years...]
They were now standing outside Noble Lady Zhang's bedchamber.
This bedchamber was proof enough of what the Heavenly Screen meant by "Sima Yao's darling."
Compared with the other palace buildings, this one prized refinement and elegance above all. The pillars before the great hall were even upheld on golden Buddhist lotuses, exactly the sort of thing Sima Yao, devoted to the Buddhist faith, loved most.
Only the guards dared not make a sound, waiting in silence outside for fear of disturbing His Majesty's refined pleasure, and so the place seemed all the more deathly still.
No lamps burned within the hall either, as though no one were inside; it formed a stark contrast with the voice ringing out from the Heavenly Screen.
"What are you standing there for? First make sure His Majesty is safe!"
"If Noble Lady Zhang does not answer and His Majesty does not answer, then break the door down!"
Wang Shen'ai's gaze sharpened and turned toward the speaker. He had a broad face and wide jaw, thick brows and a straight nose; though he bore some resemblance to the fool Crown Prince Sima Dezong, the difference in presence was vast.
He planted himself there and at once seized the command.
A few among the attendants glanced at him thoughtfully, but with the situation so tense there was no time to think it through; they could only obey his orders.
They spared only a little of their attention to keep listening to the voice on the Heavenly Screen.
[...The records above are enough to show just how deeply Noble Lady Zhang was favored by Sima Yao. But sadly, the affection between her and Sima Yao could not stand the test of time. For one whose beauty won that favor, time is the cruelest thing of all.]
[Ten years passed, and she was growing older...]
A series of heavy thuds set the sturdy palace doors shaking violently; the next moment, under a full-force blow, they crashed inward.
The man with the imposing features and the robes of a court official strode in with great steps.
The attendants, crowding around the Crown Prince and the Crown Princess behind him, entered the bedchamber as well.
The candles they lit brought no answer from the emperor; they only lit up the scene on the great bed in the chamber.
"Ah!" The maid closest to it cried out before she could stop herself, and the palace lantern slipped from her hand and smashed to the floor.
In an instant the flame leapt free of its paper cage and set the gauze curtain trailing on the floor alight, like a torch suddenly raised, and threw the astonishing scene into even clearer relief.
Dense black hair tumbled about a face both pale and bewitching; even in the firelight she possessed a stunning, overwhelming beauty, and her vacant gaze when she looked up at them did nothing to diminish her beauty.
It was none other than Noble Lady Zhang, Sima Yao's favored consort.
Heaven seemed to have blessed this beauty with particular favor. Or rather, to Wang Shen'ai, Noble Lady Zhang was at most twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with no sign whatsoever of fading beauty, but all the allure of a woman in her prime.
Yet there was a dead man before this beauty, and it lent that face in the firelight a sinister splendor!
A dead man indeed!
She slowly opened her hands and let the bedding she had been gripping slide to the floor and flow toward the flames, exposing to everyone's eyes the Sima Yao beneath, his face blue-white and his breath gone.
She knew nothing of any Heavenly Screen and seemed no longer able to hear any other sound; she simply stared at the open-mouthed crowd before her and suddenly burst into wild, unrestrained laughter, laughing with utter madness.
"His Majesty said I was old. Hahahahahaha."
"He meant to replace me, to put some new girl in my place. So the only thing I could do... the only thing I could do was make sure he could never go picking a new favorite to replace me."
She gazed blankly at the flickering blood-red glow before her and laughed again. "Tell me, did I do right?"
To keep the emperor's love from cooling as she aged and her beauty faded, to keep him from casting her aside, she had struck first and smothered him to death with the bedding. On that count, had she done right?
Wang Shen'ai had no answer.
Only the voice of the Heavenly Screen came from far off outside the hall.
[The histories leave us this record: 'At the time Noble Lady Zhang was in favor, nearly thirty years old. The emperor joked with her, "By your age you should be put aside." The consort was secretly enraged. That evening the emperor was drunk, and died suddenly.']
[To put it simply, the life of Emperor Xiaowu, Sima Yao, ended at the hands of his own favored consort.]
[The true age of chaos, and the Yong'an Emperor's campaign, began from this moment.]
Comments
Post a Comment