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墨書 Inktalez
The Heavenly Realm was vast and boundless, shrouded in swirling clouds and mist. As Sun Wukong flew through the skies, he found no new paths and certainly no sign of the Jade Emperor. Anxiety gnawed at him, yet he felt powerless to change his circumstances. He recalled the purpose of his journey: to seek out the Scripture of the Purple Text from the Spirit Book and discern the truth behind the New Tang. It seemed that even this heavenly domain could not be relied upon; he would have to find a way on his own.
He descended onto a desolate mountain, his mind racing with thoughts. The world had changed, the land had transformed, and even he was no longer the fearless Great Sage he once was. Five hundred years had passed, enough time to alter everything and smooth out all sharp edges.
"Wukong, have you really grown old?" he murmured to himself, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes.
He looked up towards the horizon where the setting sun painted the sky a deep crimson, as if foretelling something ominous.
Reluctantly, he pressed down on his cloud and returned to the territory of the Great Tang. Sun Wukong pondered to himself, "I must see for myself what this New Tang is all about!" With that thought, he concealed his powers and prepared to enter the city.
The guards at the gate shouted loudly, "By order of the New Emperor, anyone dressed strangely or speaking bizarrely is to be captured and executed publicly. You monk, even if you have lost your home, you should cherish your life!" Upon hearing this, Sun Wukong clasped his hands together and replied, "What you say makes sense, indeed!" After saying this, he turned away from the city gate and transformed into a pink butterfly. He first performed Beauty’s Dance, then struck a pose reminiscent of Carrying a Pipa. In an instant, he found himself in a pavilion made of jade stones with exquisitely carved railings, landing gracefully in the grand hall.
The pavilion was surrounded by Jade Branches and Precious Leaves amidst swirling clouds and mist. The green tiles were entwined with vibrant Yunxia, creating a scene that resembled a celestial paradise—one that even immortals would find difficult to encounter, let alone discover such a hidden abode.
Heavenly cycles aligned,
Stars in harmony shine.
Clouds form Emerald Palace,
Sunlight graces Phoenix City.
A chaotic golden light filled the horizon, reminiscent of the primordial chaos that lingered when heaven and earth were first created; now it condensed upon this palace. The Yunxia shimmered in an unusual golden-red hue, swirling around like waves supporting the jade-like palace—magnificent yet eerie. The sunlight lazily cascaded down but cast an icy coldness over the resplendent palace city, devoid of life.
Standing atop his cloud, Wukong gazed at this palace and felt an odd sensation wash over him, overwhelming his senses and making him itch with restlessness.
He floated down, landing in front of a palace. Above the grand entrance, the words "Green Jade Palace" were inscribed in a flamboyant script, the strokes sharp and imposing. Beside it, a smaller line read: "In the Year of the New Emperor of Tang, Flamboyant Emperor, on an auspicious day in February." The handwriting here was markedly different from that of "Green Jade Palace," appearing frivolous and casual, reminiscent of a child's doodles.
Wu Kong couldn't help but sneer at the title "Flamboyant Emperor," which seemed fitting enough. He pushed open the palace doors, and a wave of decay hit him. Inside, it was empty except for two lines of ink written on the walls:
"Before Tang received the Mandate of Heaven, fifty autumns passed;
A great nation diminished, like a grain cast into a scale;
After Tang received the Mandate of Heaven, fifty years gone;
Mountains and rivers leap forth, stars and moon drift along.
The new emperor reigns for ten thousand years;
Voices of praise resound from all directions, proclaiming the king's legacy.
Your humble servant Zhang Qiu sincerely wishes;
May the emperor's grand enterprise be eternally solid."
The handwriting was neat, but the content made Wu Kong feel nauseous. He recalled the five hundred years spent crushed beneath Wuxing Mountain, enduring endless torment day and night. He remembered the hypocritical faces of the gods above and the twisted truths that had been turned upside down.
"Flamboyant Emperor? Ten thousand years? Ha ha..." Wu Kong laughed skyward, his laughter filled with mockery and sorrow. This heavenly realm and this mortal world were no longer as he remembered them. The so-called "Mandate of Heaven" was merely a plaything in the hands of the powerful.
He turned to leave the Green Jade Palace, behind him those two lines of ink seemed to emit mocking sounds.
As he walked away, he suddenly encountered a palace servant holding a green bamboo broom. While sweeping the floor, she muttered to herself, "Oh dear, both the emperor and the chancellor have gone to bed. This Green Jade Palace has practically become a 'Dreamland Palace'! Last night, our charming emperor threw a banquet in the back garden's Emerald Palace to celebrate Nation-toppling Lady's housewarming. He drank until dawn! At the start of the banquet, he even took out a Gaotang Mirror and had Nation-toppling Lady stand on his left and Madam Xu on his right for a group photo. The emperor praised both ladies for their beauty while Nation-toppling Lady complimented him on his handsomeness. When he turned to us maidens, three or four hundred of us chimed in unison: 'He truly is a rare beauty!' The emperor was delighted by this and downed a large cup of wine with squinted eyes. After three rounds of drinks, he got up to admire the moon and pointed at Chang'e in the moon saying: 'That is my Madam Xu.' Madam Xu then pointed at Zhi Nu and Niulang in the sky saying: 'That is Your Majesty with Nation-toppling Lady. Although today is only the fifth day of March, let’s celebrate Qixi Festival early!' The emperor was even happier after hearing this and downed another cup. He became flushed from drinking, staggering as he walked and mumbling incoherently before collapsing into Madam Xu's embrace. Seeing this, Nation-toppling Lady quickly sat up straight like a 'snow-white cushion' so that he could comfortably lean against her feet. Even more amusingly, one of the embroiderers beside Madam Xu plucked a Sea Agarwood flower and playfully placed it atop the emperor’s head, turning him into a 'Drunken Flower Emperor.' Such joyful days would make even immortals envious!"
Wu Kong listened without a trace of amusement on his face. When did this palace and this world become such a sight?
The palace servant continued to chatter away, completely oblivious to Wu Kong's expression. He lowered his voice, as if speaking to himself or perhaps to Wu Kong, "Let me tell you, this Nation-toppling Lady is truly a beauty beyond compare. Her beauty surpasses even the legends of the fish sinking and the swan falling, the moon hiding and the flowers blushing. I heard she was originally a dancer sent as tribute from the Western Regions. Just look at her figure and her dance—tut-tut-tut, even the celestial maidens in the heavens cannot compare. When the Emperor first saw her, he was utterly captivated and immediately bestowed upon her the title of Consort, granting her residence in the Green Jade Palace, where she enjoys endless nights of music and dance, living a life of bliss."
As he spoke, a lewd smile crept across his face. He continued, "And then there's Madam Xu, another first-rate beauty. They say she was once a famous courtesan from Jiangnan, skilled in all arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Her voice and her gaze—tut-tut-tut—are enchanting enough to captivate anyone. The Emperor dotes on her as well, granting her the title of Consort Shu and a residence in the Emerald Palace, where every night is filled with revelry."
The servant paused for a moment as if recalling something and a hint of envy crossed his features. "Among the three thousand beauties in the harem, these two are the most favored. Just think about it—such wealth and luxury to enjoy endlessly; who would still care about the mundane affairs of the common people? Who wouldn't want to live such a divine life?"
"But I ponder," he continued, "there have been many emperors in past dynasties, plenty of charming rulers too. Yet here we are today—palaces gone, beauties gone, emperors gone! Take my late sovereign for instance; in his middle age, he indulged in pleasures and built what they called the Pearl Rain Pavilion. That structure was indeed grand and splendid; it was paved with white jade bricks and surrounded by intricately carved windows. To the north was a circular Frost Cave that offered views of sunrises and sunsets over the sea. The flooring was made of purple sandalwood intricately carved with golden threads. In those days, that pavilion was filled with beautiful women dressed in their finest attire; the sound of Silk Bamboo echoed endlessly, captivating all who beheld it and enchanting those who heard it. But now? Just yesterday, my lady summoned me to clean the Eastern Garden. Standing by the low wall, I looked over and saw that Pearl Rain Pavilion reduced to wild grass and smoke; three thousand pieces of glazed tiles now lay shattered; beams adorned with dragon and floral carvings were askew. Interestingly enough, even in broad daylight, there were ghostly flames flickering by the well under a tree. I looked closely for quite some time but saw no singing children or dancing maidens—only a few cuckoos calling out in varying tones as if mourning this desolate spring rain. It seems that whether one is an emperor or a commoner, we all meet the same end; whether royal consorts or village girls, they all turn to dust in the end." The servant's voice carried a heavy melancholy that echoed through the empty palace halls as if trying to stain its golden bricks and jade tiles with decay.
Wu Kong listened with amusement. These mortals were so fixated on these ephemeral things—power and beauty—only to find it all amounts to nothing in the end. After living for so many years and witnessing countless emperors and talented individuals alike, did they not all turn to dust and vanish into this vast world?
The servant continued his rambling: "Speaking of which, last year during the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first month, a Daoist named Song Luo came to the palace. This Daoist had some knowledge about him. He said our current emperor is quite fond of romance and loves beautiful women depicted in paintings and picturesque scenes. So he presented a painting called 'Li Mountain Painting.' When the Emperor saw it, he asked, 'Is Li Mountain still standing?' The Daoist replied, 'Li Mountain has aged somewhat; it has only been around for about two thousand years.' The Emperor laughed heartily at this: 'Two thousand years is quite long enough.' But unexpectedly, that Daoist shook his head and said: 'It's just unfortunate that it's not complete; Li Mountain built by man lasts only two hundred years; what people discuss about Li Mountain lasts merely four hundred years; what is painted with brushstrokes can last five hundred years; as for what is recorded in history books—it can last up to nine hundred years. Adding them all together barely makes two thousand years.' I happened to be on duty that day standing right before that Daoist; I heard every word he said clearly. Unfortunately, it's been over a year since then and I've gradually forgotten much of it. A few days ago I ran into an erudite palace servant who casually mentioned this matter again—I suddenly realized that what was depicted in that 'Li Mountain Painting' was actually constructed using the Mountain-Driving Bell for the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang!" As he spoke, the servant continued sweeping diligently with his broom as if this repetitive motion could bring him some solace.
Coincidentally, The Wanderer overheard those words "Mountain-Driving Bell" and thought to himself: "How does one drive mountains? If I could obtain this precious bell one day when encountering mountains occupied by demons, I could simply drive them away beforehand without any fighting—wouldn't that be splendid?" This monkey felt an itch of impatience rising within him; he immediately considered transforming into an official's guise to inquire about the origins of this Mountain-Driving Bell. However, before he could utter a word, he suddenly heard drums and music resounding throughout the palace—a grand commotion whose cause remained unknown.
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