Chapter Fifty-Three: The Return to the Vast Sky (Part Two)

On the first day of October, the gates of the Palace of Primordials swung open, and the grand ceremony of the Langqiong Tribute was officially held.

Empress Wu presided at the Gate of Heavenly Governance. The civil and military officials, nobles, and dignitaries appeared in splendid ceremonial attire to perform rites and pay homage.

According to custom, the ceremony began by asking the heavens, “How are the celestial signs? What is the weather?”
The Director of the Imperial Observatory stepped forth, “The stars are in their proper places, the winds and rains are harmonious.”
Next, the welfare of the people was inquired, “How is the livelihood of the people? What are the customs?”
The prime ministers came forward, “The people live in peace and happiness, their customs are pure and virtuous.”
Then, the ministers were questioned, “How is governance?”
Minister of the Heavenly Office, Wu Chengsi, responded, “The officials are strict and upright, the realm is tranquil and prosperous.”

Empress Wu nodded in approval and moved her procession to the Palace of Myriad Manifestations. The ministers stood to the left of the court, and the foreign envoys were summoned.

Festive music to welcome guests resounded. The Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Rites and the Deputy Director of the Office of Protocol led the envoys, who entered through the Gate of Eternal Peace and halted at the steps before the Palace of Myriad Manifestations.

The music abruptly ceased. The envoys prostrated themselves in homage. Among them, the Silla envoy’s movements were particularly precise. Amidst the chorus of various dialects praising the imperial court, his voice rang loud and clear in the refined Tang pronunciation: “Envoy of Silla, humble subject Kim Cheol pays respects to the Great Empress of the Celestial Empire.”

Quan Ce, responsible for security, stood upon the vermilion staircase, behind the throne, gazing down. Hundreds of envoys, each dressed differently, each representing a nation, bowed in utmost reverence before the empire. His heart surged with emotion; had the century of decline never happened, this was the true grandeur of China.

Unable to restrain his feelings, he softly murmured, “The gates of heaven open, the palace stands; the nations bow in their finery to the imperial crown.”

Though faint, his utterance was heard in the hush. Shangguan Wan’er, with bright, attentive eyes, glanced at him. The official of court records, Zhang Yue, looked up in admiration, his pen dancing swiftly, as if recording the line in the court chronicles.

Quan Ce cursed inwardly. If this was made public, he could not escape the charge of improper conduct before the throne.

“Summon,” Empress Wu spoke a single word. The envoys lifted their sleeves, bent low, and entered the hall in flowing movements. They walked soundlessly upon the thick azure carpet, as if floating in.

Minister of the Ministry of Rites, Wu Sansi, stepped forward to report, “Your Majesty, in the southwest, Sword River, the Langqiong regime seeks to join the empire as a vassal state. Their petition is here, awaiting Your Majesty’s decision.”

Empress Wu nodded gently. Wu Sansi unfolded the memorial and began to read. The prose was ornate, certainly the work of imperial scholars, but Quan Ce paid it little mind, showing a trace of disdain. Wu Sansi’s voice was clear and solemn, but his appearance, broad and corpulent, somewhat diminished the dignity of the empire, far less impressive than Wu Chengsi.

After nearly half an hour, Empress Wu granted approval, “Summon him to ascend the hall.”

Music and ceremony resumed. The King of Langqiong, Pang Shixi, began his approach from the Gate of Heavenly Governance. Royal banners fluttered, plumes glittered, imperial majesty dazzled him. He struggled to keep his steps aligned with the cracks of the imperial path but failed; after only a few paces, he was sweating profusely. Reaching the steps before the Palace of Myriad Manifestations, he relaxed, preparing to ascend.

“Stop!” The master of ceremonies sharply rebuked him. Pang Shixi was jolted awake. Cold sweat joined the hot, and he hastily knelt, “Humble subject, King of Langqiong, Pang Shixi, pays homage to the Great Empress of the Celestial Empire.”

After receiving approval, Pang Shixi glanced at the master of ceremonies, and, seeing no objection, dared to ascend the steps. The long journey had dulled his memory of the proper entry. His steps faltered, but upon seeing the vermilion staircase before the throne, his eyes brightened, thinking he should kneel there. Eagerly, he rushed forward.

Fortunately, he was alert. Glancing at the staircase, he was terrified—the young general who had welcomed him at the ancient pass now glared fiercely at him, and the guards behind clutched their sword hilts, as if one more step would mean death.

He tripped, landing deftly in a full prostration—a splendid display of reverence.

The civil and military officials of Tang cast sympathetic looks, while the other envoys were gleefully amused. Silla’s envoy, Kim Cheol, nearly burst with laughter; seeing Pang Shixi behave thus, he thought, “How dare he compete with Silla for imperial favor, truly overestimating himself.”

Others were at ease, but Wu Sansi dared not relax, calling the master of ceremonies repeatedly to assist Pang Shixi. Seeing Pang Shixi’s clumsy manner, he regretted that training in ceremony was the Office of Protocol’s duty, but the Director, Li Sansheng, had been sent to Qiongzhou, leaving no one in charge, so the Ministry of Rites had to substitute.

Pang Shixi then exchanged words with Empress Wu, answering questions about governance and the welfare of his people with much stammering. Empress Wu was not displeased, “Though Langqiong is now a vassal, their customs differ. For the sake of the people, you shall remain their governor, administering on my behalf. Yet, rituals and military affairs are paramount to the state; you must not act solely in these matters.”

Pang Shixi received the decree and withdrew to change attire. Soon after, he appeared dressed as a Tang prince, presented the national letter and tribute list, performed the customary rites to establish the relationship of ruler and subject, and exchanged greetings with Tang officials and all foreign envoys.

With the rites complete, Empress Wu instructed the Ministry of Rites and Ministry of Land to prepare gifts in return, granting Pang Shixi permission to depart in five days.

That night, Empress Wu hosted a banquet at Tao Guang Garden, inviting Pang Shixi, the ministers, and foreign envoys. Dances and music enlivened the feast, with fine wine and delicacies in abundance. Yet, some could not resist stirring trouble. Silla’s envoy, Kim Cheol, displeased by Pang Shixi’s presence at the principal guest seat, rose and addressed Empress Wu, “Your Majesty, since the vassal states have submitted and seek to align with the empire, we all strive to emulate Tang’s treasures and culture, cherishing them as our own. Of all the glories, poetry is the greatest, an immortal legacy. Today, with both old and new subjects present, why not let each display their talents, composing verse to commemorate the imperial grace and the grandeur of this day?”

The envoys from Japan and Baekje led the response, while those from the nomadic Turks and Khitans cautiously welcomed the suggestion—they were no strangers to composing poems. The envoys from the Western Regions cheered, not for the prospect of writing poetry, but for witnessing the birth of Tang poetry.

Pang Shixi, blushing, looked around; his entourage, like quails, were hardly literate. In contrast, every Tang official, civil or military, sat calmly, as if fully prepared. Pang Shixi sighed inwardly, his reverence for the empire deepened, and he resigned himself.

Before he could act, Empress Wu spoke, “Since you all have such refined interest, I shall gladly support it. As guest and host have their order, let the Tang officials compose first, shall we?”

Kim Cheol quickly protested, “We dare not. The empire is rich in talent, poets abound, and with such brilliance before us, we fear we cannot match it.”

Empress Wu conceded, “Very well. Pang Shixi is newly joined and may not know the rules of verse. I shall assign someone to guide him. Any objections?”

Kim Cheol and the others hesitated, “If you engage the scholars of Phoenix Pavilion, Literary Terrace, the Secretariat, or imperial academies, there may be misunderstanding.”

As they excluded all civil officials, Empress Wu laughed, “I shall not summon a scholar, but appoint a general instead. Is that acceptable?”

With reluctance, they agreed, “Thank Your Majesty for your consideration; we accept.”

With a graceful gesture, Empress Wu summoned Quan Ce, who rose and came before her.

The envoys exclaimed, “Is it the General of a Thousand Riders?”

Empress Wu smiled, “Any further objections?”

No one dared speak. The envoys’ interest waned, the excitement subdued.

Quan Ce approached the Langqiong delegation, warmly received. Pang Shixi bowed, “I have witnessed your valor, General; now I am honored to see your literary grace. Thank you for your guidance.”

Quan Ce wasted no words. He spread plain white paper and swiftly wrote:

“The waves stretch wide, autumn’s chill clears the air;
Deep in the water palace, the night grows long.
I pity myself, a guest from Five Lakes gone to rest,
What fortune to join the king of myriad valleys’ throng.
Fragrant clouds drift above the emerald seats,
Jade cups fly, bright wine spiced and strong.
Drunk, I sail away alone in my little boat,
Laughing, I enter the immortal realm where death is gone.”

As soon as the poem appeared, the exuberant envoys from the Western Regions, disregarding decorum, hurried to copy and recite it, then danced amid the feast. The musicians quickly adapted their tunes, refreshing the atmosphere, igniting the scene with fervor. Silla and Japanese envoys, more reserved, followed the Tang officials, clapping and tapping in harmony.

Empress Wu laughed delightedly, addressing the foreign envoys, “Have any of you composed worthy verses?”

Kim Cheol and the others knelt, repeatedly declining, “The empire’s talent is unmatched, blessed above all. Heaven itself favors the Middle Kingdom.”

“You are mistaken. The world is one; why distinguish between us?” replied Empress Wu, magnanimous and gracious.

The ministers and envoys bowed again in admiration, their praises and songs filling the hall without end.