Longzang

Chapter 1198 New Year's Eve, The Imperial Family

Countless fireworks burst in the night sky, heralding the arrival of a new year. Only at this time does the capital of the Great Tang Dynasty show any signs of life; at other times, it is mostly lifeless.

Emperor Jing stood in the courtyard, watching the fireworks fill the sky. These were fireworks set off in the palace, using spiritual energy as a medium. They were not only beautiful but also burned for an exceptionally long time. A single giant firework could burn in the air for a full minute before slowly dimming and extinguishing.

At this moment, fireworks burst forth, illuminating the vast imperial palace as if it were daytime. The light poured down, making the glazed tiles shine brilliantly, radiant and vibrant, as if they had come alive. Then a second wave of fireworks erupted, blue, purple, and vermilion, the light sliding from the hipped roof to the brackets, and then flowing from the brackets to the white marble railings, making the entire palace city dazzlingly bright, even the palace moat seemed to melt into flowing silver. The lanterns hanging under the eaves also swayed in the night, illuminating the joyful smiles of the palace servants.

Amidst such a magnificent scene, Emperor Jing tightened his clothes, feeling desolate and the night wind unusually cold.

In fact, Emperor Tang's palace possesses its own grand formation, far surpassing the four great immortal sects in rank, so much so that even immortals dare not enter recklessly. It's not a matter of being able to enter but not leave; rather, anyone who walks through the palace leaves a mark, subsequently encountering various inexplicable calamities, which even immortals cannot avoid.

Furthermore, countless vicious ghosts are suppressed beneath the imperial palace, all thanks to the power of the grand formation. Therefore, mere warmth and protection from the cold are utterly insignificant.

However, during the reign of Emperor Taizu of the Great Tang Dynasty, a rule was established that the temperature of the imperial palace's grand array should not be adjusted; it should be hot when it should be hot and cold when it should be cold, so that future generations, even while on the throne, could constantly understand the workings of the heavens and the hardships of the people.

Emperor Taizu's intentions were good, and this rule remained in place until the reign of Emperor Wuzu. However, after Emperor Wuzu, favored concubines began to secretly set up temperature-controlled arrays in their rooms, and this practice gradually spread. By the time of Emperor Jing, almost every palace of any size had its own temperature-controlled array, not only for raising people but also for raising fish and flowers, rendering Emperor Taizu's rule virtually meaningless.

Logically, the temperature in the palace should be set as comfortable as a late spring night, but Emperor Jing felt a chill, and then a buzzing sound suddenly filled his ears, interspersed with countless shrill screams.

This auditory hallucination had been going on for years, and neither the imperial physicians nor the divine healers could cure it. An old imperial physician once mustered the courage to say that this ailment could only be alleviated with the intervention of a celestial being. But since that day, Emperor Jing never saw that physician again.

At that moment, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration and looked down at his feet, vaguely feeling that perhaps it was not a hallucination, but a real sound coming from deep beneath his feet.

He was curious, wondering what was hidden underground, what it suppressed. But he also knew that asking wouldn't yield any results, and would only cause more harm to others.

Fireworks continued to bloom. According to ancestral tradition, fireworks were set off for one hour seven days before the Lunar New Year; on New Year's Eve, they were set off for three hours, until after midnight, to demonstrate the majesty of the Great Tang Dynasty.

He suddenly gave a self-deprecating laugh. What prestige did this Great Tang still possess? It was supposedly a large territory, capable of supporting a million soldiers. But where had all its abundant resources gone?

The entire Tang imperial family now claims to have two million elite troops, but probably no one knows the actual number of soldiers, not even the regent, who is known for his unparalleled political acumen.

But the number of soldiers in the camp could be gauged by the expressions on the faces of the court officials every time Wei Yuan sent a letter announcing his intention to travel to the capital to meet the emperor. Emperor Jing himself estimated that there were roughly a million soldiers.

In the first few years, the Prince of Jin, who was originally the regent, did his best to assist him. But when did he suddenly start to monopolize the government and gradually sideline him?

There were rumors that the regent was his biological father, but Emperor Jing felt no affection whatsoever. Looking back, he realized that there had been little affection between him and his siblings, only mutual distrust.

But when did the regent Prince of Jin begin to become noticeably cold, even to the point of turning himself into a mere figurehead in the court?
Emperor Jing suddenly felt a headache coming on; he had been suffering from headaches frequently lately, and his memory was gradually becoming hazy. But he remembered this matter very clearly: the time when his youngest son had just been born.

The arrival of this youngest son was extremely strange, even more so than the arrival of his two previous sons... Emperor Jing had another headache.

He suddenly remembered something and broke out in a cold sweat: Did he have two sons or three sons? How come he should have three sons, but he only remembered two?
His clothes were soaked with cold sweat. Suddenly, a night wind blew on him, chilling him to the bone. Emperor Jing's face flushed, he swayed, and suddenly lost consciousness.

……

After an unknown amount of time, Emperor Jing opened his eyes again. Before him was a flickering, dim candlelight, and several unfamiliar palace servants surrounded the bed, coldly watching him.

Emperor Jing struggled to sit up, but he was too weak and delirious with fever. He managed to communicate with the array in his bedroom using his divine sense and realized that it was already New Year's Eve.

The communication array works silently, yet responds the moment a thought is uttered.

Emperor Jing felt somewhat relieved. After all, he was still the emperor of the Great Tang Dynasty, and the forbidden array left by his ancestors still acknowledged this fact and protected him. Perhaps with the help of this array, he could escape the calamity at hand.

Just then, he suddenly heard a faint voice. The voice came from the Imperial Palace's grand formation, from a palace not far away.

"...What are you going to do with him? Or maybe just..."

The voice sounded both strange and familiar. Emperor Jing thought for a moment, and with a sliver of clarity appearing from nowhere, he remembered the voice.

It was the voice of her empress, but she hadn't heard it for years. Even at the annual grand ceremony, she remained silent.

Who is she talking to right now? It sounds like she's planning to kill someone...

Another voice rang out: "That won't do! He is, after all, the true Son of Heaven of the Great Tang Dynasty, and has been approved by our ancestors. Not only can we not kill him, but some things will only be effective if he is willing to cooperate. You are not of imperial blood, so you don't know the power of the Martial Ancestor's Great Formation. Don't say such things in the future."

"But there's only one hour left! That person said that if Ying'er can't ascend to the throne this year, she'll never have another chance!"

"It is indeed strange, though. Logically speaking, he should have passed away at the beginning of the year. How could he have been alive until now?"

The Empress seemed very anxious, and suddenly said, "I have a way..."

After a moment, the voice also sounded somewhat shocked, saying, "This..."

"There's no time!" the Empress urged.

"...Okay, let's do it this way!"

...Emperor Jing was in a daze again. He was naturally familiar with the other voice, and he heard it almost every day. It was his regent uncle.

Were they conspiring to get rid of me? So my recent bouts of illness weren't just a coincidence?
In a daze, Emperor Jing suddenly saw that besides the palace maids guarding him, there was another person in the room! It was a kind old man, round and plump, but dressed a bit rustically, like a nouveau riche from a remote rural area.

The old rich man was actually sitting at his usual desk, casually flipping through the memorials awaiting his approval. These memorials were merely a formality to him, but they represented Emperor Jing's last vestige of dignity.

He tried to stop him, but no sound came out. Then he saw the old man look up, suddenly smile at him, and then point to the opposite wall.

Hanging above was a painting of a traveler in spring mountains, depicting a man leading a lean horse slowly through the landscape. In one corner of the painting were four bold, sharply styled characters: "The Great Way Walks Alone!"

The painting is of average quality, and the calligraphy is not very good either, but it was able to hang in Emperor Tang's bedroom because it was handwritten by Emperor Wuzu.

As Emperor Jing followed the old man's gaze into the painting, the man leading the horse turned to look at him, their eyes meeting. Emperor Jing felt a moment of disorientation, as if the person in the painting was very familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn't be sure.

At this moment, golden Buddha light suddenly surged into the room, and a waist plaque placed on the bedside table shone brightly, with Buddha light flowing out like water, instantly filling the room!
The four palace servants remained standing, but their eyes became vacant, while a peaceful and serene smile appeared on their faces.

A sea of ​​light emanated from the Buddha, from which rose a handsome young monk, though his eyes appeared somewhat aged. He looked at Emperor Jing and smiled, saying, "If not for this method, I would not have been able to meet Your Majesty. Your Majesty has always been kind to others, yet you have been betrayed by even your closest relatives time and time again. Do you know why?"

A chill ran through Emperor Jing's heart, but he felt an even greater pang of sorrow.

That jade pendant was a token he secretly exchanged with the Empress on their wedding day. For over twenty years, he had worn it close to his body, never once losing it. But he never imagined that what he cherished so much would become a tool for bridging the gap between the imperial palace and the outside world, allowing him to bring people into his own bedchamber!
It goes without saying who did it.

The young monk continued, "Your Majesty's love is deep, but alas, the flower's affection is unrequited. In these years of your solitary confinement in the cold bed, the nights in Fengkun Palace have been fleeting, for that is the Empress's true bedchamber. Your Majesty has three sons, but you probably can't remember the third one, can you? It's a good thing you can't remember, at least you won't be in so much pain."

But tonight is the final moment; after midnight comes the New Year. The New Year is the year of the dragon, and only those who ascend to the throne and remain secure in it during this year will be the true Son of Heaven.

Therefore, the Prince of Jin and the Empress will come soon and force you to abdicate in favor of your son, whom you have never met. After you write the edict of abdication, they will give you a cup of poisoned wine, causing you to die of heart failure.

The young monk spoke very calmly, as if recounting a trivial matter. Emperor Jing, drawing strength from who-knows-where, gritted his teeth and said, "What can you do if I simply refuse to write it down?"

The little monk said, "Then your two real sons will slowly die in front of you, and she will do it herself."

Emperor Jing was furious: "How could she be so vicious! That's her own son!"

The young monk sighed, "The most ruthless are those in the imperial family. Even His Majesty himself has little feeling, so he shouldn't expect too much from others."

"And who are you, and what are your plans?"

The young monk smiled and said, “I come from the Pure Land of Ling Mountain, and I have come here to fulfill a karmic obligation. Because Your Majesty has a karmic connection with Buddha, I have endured many hardships, hoping only to meet Your Majesty once so that I may guide you to Ling Mountain. All people suffer, and the imperial family is no exception. At this moment, Your Majesty has only a moment left to live. Why not come with me to Ling Mountain and attain enlightenment together? What do you say?”

Emperor Jing, with a strength he didn't know he possessed, struggled to sit up and roared, "I am, after all, the Emperor of the Great Tang Dynasty, a descendant of my ancestors! I may be unlucky, or perhaps incompetent and foolish, but there is absolutely no reason for me to escape the bloodline of the Great Tang Emperor and enter a Buddhist monastery! I'd rather die!"

The young monk was somewhat surprised, then laughed and said, "As expected, the imperial blood within you makes you extremely difficult to deal with. However, you are only experiencing a final burst of energy before death, and the previous emperors should have already acknowledged your death. Therefore, this matter is not up to you. Excuse me!"

Suddenly, the little monk's eyes lit up with dazzling Buddhist light, and countless Sanskrit scriptures appeared on his hands. He then reached out to grab Emperor Jing!

When Emperor Jing was bathed in the Buddha's light, his mind became hazy and he was about to be captured by the little monk when he suddenly had a moment of clarity! His vision was no longer affected by the little monk, and he could see the situation inside the room clearly, and then he saw the old man.

The old man remained in the same position, pointing to the painting hanging on the wall. Emperor Jing looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the man and the thin horse again.

The man seemed to sense Emperor Jing's gaze, turned his head to look at him, and suddenly his face turned angry. He shouted, "What kind of ant dares to crawl in the imperial palace?"

In that instant, an endless domineering aura rose from his body, as if he were the only one who reigned supreme in the heavens and the earth!
He extended a hand with large, calloused knuckles and struck down with his palm. The little monk's face immediately showed horror, but he was unable to move. In the blink of an eye, he was shattered like a bubble by the palm strike!
The person in the painting glanced at Emperor Jing and said indifferently, "It's alright."

The painting then returned to normal, except that the four characters "Walking Alone on the Great Path" had faded slightly.

Upon hearing the words "not bad," Emperor Jing was suddenly overcome with emotion, and tears streamed down his face. He had lived a pathetic life, and yet, in the end, he received only the three words "not bad" as a comment!
He had an urge to cry his heart out, but he couldn't. All the events of his past life flashed through his mind in an instant, and suddenly, as if he understood something, he laughed three times and actually got up from his sickbed!

He first bowed deeply to the old man and said, "Thank you so much for saving my life, senior! Now, I... no, what should I do..."

Before he could finish speaking, Emperor Jing saw the old man vanish like a bubble, as if he had never been there. He was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at the painting on the wall. The four characters "The Great Dao Walks Alone" suddenly seemed to fall into his mind like boulders!

Emperor Jing understood something in an instant, and then let go of something else. He then spread out a sheet of paper, picked up his brush, and wrote in one stroke. In terms of calligraphy, he was far superior to Emperor Wuzu.

Emperor Jing then walked into the painting, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the mountains within the painting, leaving no trace.

At that moment, the door was flung open, and the Regent Prince Jin and the Empress entered together. Seeing the empty bedchamber, their faces turned extremely grim. Suddenly, the Prince Jin noticed a letter on the table, picked it up, and read: "..."
"It is currently reported that the location is ___..."

This is actually an edict appointing a successor to the throne, and it doesn't have a name written on it, which clearly means that the successor filled in the name himself.

The Prince of Jin and the Empress were stunned when they saw the edict they had been longing for, unsure whether they should fill it in or not.

At this moment, the clock struck, and fireworks illuminated the imperial capital that had stood for thousands of years. Amidst the ultimate prosperity and splendor, the Hongjing Dynasty came to an end, ceasing its reign in its nineteenth year.

(End of this chapter)