Zhao Guangyi could clearly feel it—the moment the image of that jade axe surfaced in his mind, his entire body stiffened.
The stone stool paired with the stone table was slightly too low. Sitting there and looking at the light screen meant he had to crane his neck upward the whole time.
Zhao Guangyi didn't dare think too deeply about it. If that jade axe were to swing down at this very moment… wouldn't it be terrifyingly convenient?
Of course, he also knew very well that his elder brother was unlikely to be that decisive.
The fact that they were brothers born of the same mother was only a minor reason. The more important one was that his brother had always prided himself on being a benevolent ruler, constantly measuring himself against the image of an enlightened sovereign.
Otherwise, how could those civil officials—men who couldn't even truss a chicken—argue him into silence so often?
Still, logic aside, just the mere thought that such a possibility existed was enough to send a chill creeping up Zhao Guangyi's spine.
So he slowly—yet firmly—drew his neck back in, then raised his head and decided to strike first.
"Elder Brother… do you harbor doubts about your younger brother?"
Zhao Kuangyin habitually reached up and touched the jade axe at his waist. His gaze turned a little strange.
"Third Brother, why are you talking with your neck tucked in like that?"
The Zhao brothers numbered five in total. The eldest, Zhao Kuangji, had died young. Zhao Kuangyin ranked second, while Zhao Guangyi was third.
Zhao Guangyi coughed lightly, only then realizing how unnatural his posture had been. Seeing that his brother's reaction didn't seem overly intense, he immediately became aware that the real issue lay in his own guilty conscience. He quickly straightened his posture and sat upright.
Seeing the sudden change in his brother's demeanor, Zhao Kuangyin burst out laughing.
"Third Brother, you and I are flesh and blood. We Han men understand honor, shame, loyalty, and righteousness. How could such unspeakable thoughts ever arise between us?"
The heart that had been lodged in Zhao Guangyi's throat finally dropped back into his stomach.
"But—"
Zhao Kuangyin's face darkened slightly. Every time this happened, Zhao Guangyi had to expend considerable effort to read his brother's expression.
Under these circumstances, he didn't dare look too closely. Nor could he detect any emotion from his brother's tone.
"But Third Brother… how well do you understand Buddhist teachings?"
Zhao Guangyi's heart, which had only just settled, slammed violently once more. His throat immediately felt dry again.
Before he could come up with a response that might cover all bases, Zhao Kuangyin was already laughing again, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder.
"If Third Brother has read the Buddhist sutras, then in your spare time, you should go to the temple and light a stick of incense for Mother, to ease your longing."
Among the Song imperial family, the mother was respectfully referred to as Niangniang. What Zhao Kuangyin mentioned here was naturally their biological mother, Empress Dowager Zhaoxian, who had passed away ten years earlier.
Zhao Guangyi readily agreed, but his heart was already full of doubts.
What, exactly, was his brother's attitude?
Zhao Kuangyin, meanwhile, pondered inwardly. If one were to undertake a great undertaking, one must not act rashly—and one must have capable assistants.
Zhao Zeping should be transferred back from Heyang soon.
...
At the Chengdu Prefectural Office, Zhang Fei had stopped killing time by eating fruit.
After hearing the conclusion, he slapped his thigh hard.
"Now this Tang dynasty style is domineering! I really like it!"
"But that Wa country—how can they even marry their own nieces? That's really—"
Before Zhang Fei could finish, Liu Bei suddenly erupted into a violent coughing fit, as if he had choked on water, cutting him off completely.
Zhang Fei found this very strange. He looked at his elder brother coughing away, yet somehow still finding the time to frantically wiggle his eyebrows at him.
Understanding dawned almost immediately.
Zhang Fei nodded, then took a large step forward and raised his palm, bringing it down solidly on Liu Bei's back.
The guards standing watch outside promptly heard their lord's furious roar:
"Yide!"
Chaos erupted at the head seat. Chickens flew, dogs jumped, yet the brothers remained harmonious in their own peculiar way. Kongming and the others calmly did whatever they were supposed to do, gracefully skipping over this particular topic.
After all, Emperor Xiaohui and Empress Xiaohui had been uncle and niece—this was hardly a secret.
That said… this stretch of Han history really was a mess.
Kongming silently made a note to himself: later, he really should advise Yide to read history a little more carefully.
Pang Tong pondered for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "Regardless of merit or fault, this Guo Wuzong's actions are… worth learning from in some respects."
Kongming offered his own suggestion.
"Even in lands beyond civilization, governance ultimately comes down to one thing: the hearts of the people."
"Be strict with the barbarian kings. Be lenient toward the barbarian people."
Once these words were spoken, Kongming fell silent. These eight characters were far easier said than done.
To be strict with barbarian kings meant utterly crushing the enemy's will on the battlefield.
To be lenient with barbarian people was even more complex. Taking the Tang–Wa relations as reference, one had to both grant craftsmanship and technology to inspire admiration for Huaxia, while also strictly preventing the leakage of key techniques that could later harm Huaxia itself.
And the precise balance between these approaches had to be adjusted according to the other country's national conditions.
And then—
Kongming suddenly turned his thoughts even further.
Whether the Tang dynasty's Three Departments and Six Ministries system was suitable for the present age was still debatable, but the Directorate of Works… that might already be worth referencing, perhaps to reform the Lesser Treasury.
With engineering steadily developing in Jing and Yi regions, and the Lesser Treasury's responsibilities already overly miscellaneous, management of craftsmanship directly affected national destiny.
Considering future dealings with other nations, perhaps it was time to ask the lord to implement a new system to take direct control of engineering affairs.
Pang Tong also sank into silence, tapping the table rhythmically with his knuckles. Ideas flowed one after another through his mind—some were set aside as options, others were discarded outright.
If other nations were to be treated as targets, Pang Tong found that he felt oddly at ease in this domain.
The Four Barbarians were nothing like the vast Central Plains—mere tiny states, ignorant peoples.
A single stratagem could make them rise.
A single policy could make them fall.
Just thinking about it made Pang Tong feel inexplicably amused.
What was that phrase in Yi Province dialect again?
So much fun!
...
Within Ganlu Hall, Du Ruhui watched the light screen's teasing commentary and sincerely felt that Wei Zheng ought to thank his successors properly.
Compared to this, Wei Zheng's once ear-piercing remonstrations now felt no harsher than a gentle breeze brushing past one's face.
Setting aside the chaotic mess of Wa country for the moment, what concerned Du Ruhui far more was the state letter issued in the name of Great Tang—and that was why his brow furrowed.
"Wa King?"
Then he understood. That Wa country had always been arrogantly self-important. Back when corresponding with… Guangshen—no, Emperor Yang of Sui—they had dared to call themselves Tennō, provoking Emperor Yang's displeasure.
Emperor Yang hadn't cared too much, but Emperor Gaozong certainly did. After all, later generations had more than once mocked Gaozong's own title of "Heavenly Emperor."
From this, it seemed likely that Gaozong still harbored thoughts of stripping Wa country of that honorific title.
After all—
"Wa country does not need a Heavenly Emperor."
Li Shimin had also noticed the salutation in the state letter. From the bottom of his heart, he found this approach extremely appropriate and approved of it.
The only regret was that, judging by the linguistic habits of later generations, the title of Tennō would ultimately still be passed down.
Li Shimin possessed the keen sensitivity of a ruler. Just as "Heavenly Khagan" was never merely an empty, flattering title—it represented the formal establishment of tributary relationships with the Hexi tribes, granting moral legitimacy to wars against the Turks.
Likewise, Li Shimin could clearly read the meaning behind the title Tennō:
It meant refusing to acknowledge Huaxia as the father.
And precisely because of this, Li Shimin's interest in Wa country only grew stronger.
This was like a knight taming a horse. Li Shimin had always preferred fierce steeds.
Because the process of taming them set his blood boiling—and once tamed, such horses often became the finest warhorses.
The conquest of nations was the same.
Especially considering that Wa country was currently ruled by a female sovereign, his interest spiked even further.
If the eastern sea campaign could be achieved, would his own accomplishments not gain another entry?
The first Han emperor to capture a reigning empress.
[The early Tang's eastern sea turbulence gradually came to an end with the complete loss of the Korean Peninsula.
However, when it comes to shipbuilding, there's still plenty worth discussing.
After all, our modern era is also called the Age of Sea Power.
What is the Age of Sea Power?
Nearly three-quarters of Earth's surface is covered by water. Today, around ninety percent of global commercial transportation is carried out by sea, and the vast majority of the world's population lives within a few hundred kilometers of the ocean.
Without a navy, there is no sea power. Without sea power, a nation's political, military, and economic structures cannot truly be considered complete.
China's modern humiliation history largely came from the sea. The Eight-Nation Alliance, Britain, Japan—all pried open the nation's gates from the ocean. At its root, this was the loss of sea power.
Sea power requires a navy. A navy requires advanced shipbuilding technology.
China has always been described as an agricultural civilization, supposedly distant from the sea. Does that mean shipbuilding was inherently weak?
Of course not.
History divides Chinese shipbuilding into three major peaks: Qin–Han, Tang–Song, and Yuan–Ming.
The First Emperor's brilliance needs no elaboration. Beyond his many achievements, he also constructed the Lingqu Canal and regulated waterways. Campaigns against the Xiongnu and the conquest of Lingnan both featured Qin naval forces.
Not to mention Xu Fu's voyages—underdeveloped shipbuilding would have made such journeys impossible.
As for the legend of Xu Fu being the ancestor of the Wa people, this didn't originate in modern times.
During the Five Dynasties period, a monk named Yichu of Kaiyuan Temple in Jeju wrote Yichu's Six Notes, which mentioned Xu Fu's journey to Wa country. When asked how he knew, Yichu said it came from a Wa monk named Kuanfu.
Wa country's own Brief History of Japan also records Xu Fu's landing, though it is generally classified as legend. After all, Wa country alone has over twenty Xu Fu landing memorial sites, and more than fifty Xu Fu shrines, temples, and steles—真假難辨.
According to the UP's own speculation, this story was more likely fabricated by Wa monks. After all, Tibetan Buddhist monks once invented the rumor that Su Dingfang burned down the Potala Palace just to aid missionary efforts.
When Buddhism entered Wa country, it clashed fiercely with native Shinto. In such a situation, arranging Xu Fu as Wa's ancestor to facilitate conversion was entirely reasonable.
That said, modern Chinese people are mostly unwilling to acknowledge this "grandson."
The Tang–Song era marked the second peak of ancient Chinese shipbuilding.
The Tang invented watertight compartment technology. Song astronomy and calendrical science were highly developed, and later also adopted triangular sails from Arab sources.
Theoretically, this should have been the perfect starting point for Chinese oceanic expansion. But two factors suffocated it at birth.
The first was national policy. From the Tang onward, feudal dynasties generally suppressed domestic farmers engaging in commerce or overseas migration.
These restrictions did not apply to foreign migrants.
As a result, in international trade, Sogdians, Khitans, Uyghurs, Persians, Arabs, Shatuo, and others successively achieved great success in China, monopolizing trade routes via land and sea. These groups were collectively known as the Semu people.
For example, Zhou Shizong Chai Rong—whose legacy Zhao Kuangyin forcibly inherited—had once followed the Jiedie clan trading tea in Jiangling when young. That Jiedie clan was a typical Semu family.
During the Tang and Song, Semu people formed migrant communities of hundreds of thousands in Guangzhou and Quanzhou, controlling maritime trade.
Later Western scholars listed eight major medieval ports—Guangzhou and Quanzhou both made the list. During the Yuan, the Semu traveler Ibn Battuta journeyed from Morocco to Quanzhou and recorded its prosperity.
Yet according to his accounts, the Maritime Silk Road was bustling with Moors, Arabs, Persians, Tocharians, and others—but not a single Huaxia merchant.
Without sailing, how could navigation technology advance? Without navigation, how could ocean-going vessels be developed?]