Chapter Thirty-Seven: One's Own Child (Part One)

"Good, well done! Thoroughly satisfying! Even a fifth-rank official dared to extort; beating him to death is no injustice!" That very night, in the imperial study to the east of the Purple Forbidden Hall, Emperor Li Xian of the Heavenly Dragon Dynasty slammed down a secret memorial and applauded loudly.

Zheng Kejun, deputy chief of the Hundred Riders Division, who had come specifically to deliver the secret report, kept his head lowered, eyes fixed on his nose and mind focused, not daring to utter a sound. However, the gate-guarding general, Gao Yanfeng, was less restrained. Smiling, he quietly offered a critique, "Your Majesty, while this action is indeed satisfying, it does lack some decorum. As a fifth-rank sub-supervisor of the court, no matter how much provocation he faced, he should not have taken matters into his own hands..."

"What do you know? When others act, it is nowhere near as satisfying as doing it yourself!" Emperor Li Xian shot Gao Yanfeng a glance, shaking his head to cut him off. "If you put me in his place, I would have slapped that big mouth myself!"

"I, your humble servant, am slow-witted and dare to ask Your Majesty for enlightenment!" Gao Yanfeng sought precisely that effect and immediately bowed, humbly requesting guidance.

"Is it the same feeling to be struck by others versus striking with one's own hand?" Li Xian’s satisfaction swelled within him. Rolling his eyes and wagging his head, he explained, "Moreover, having a servant strike while you merely scold is completely different from striking while simultaneously berating your opponent with venomous words. Listen to this line..."

Grabbing the memorial casually, he pointed at the text, imitating the young official’s voice in angry rebuke: "I, Zhang, am a fifth-rank appointed official of the court. If even my home is taken from me, what becomes of the court’s dignity?"

Then lowering his voice with a smile, he nodded, "Only by striking with one’s own hand can one fully express the force of one’s conviction. If a servant strikes, it’s like scratching an itch through a boot!"

"Your Majesty’s words open my eyes!" Gao Yanfeng exaggeratedly leaned in to read a few more lines, then sincerely clasped his hands in respect.

"And this line as well: ‘This world ultimately belongs to Your Majesty, not to you bald-headed thieves!’" Li Xian was still savoring the moment, tapping the memorial lightly with his knuckles. "Had that bald thief been pinned down by a servant, it would appear that Zhang was abusing his power. But Zhang himself striking, while cursing, is a direct venting of his spirit. Truly satisfying, indeed!"

"I understand now!" Gao Yanfeng leaned forward again, smiling in agreement. "It really is different. And this line: ‘Worldly affairs belong to the court, spiritual matters belong to the gods and Buddhas. No matter what sutras you chant, or what faith you follow, you must not overreach your hand!’"

"Yes, those bald thieves have indeed overextended their reach!" Li Xian slammed his hand on the desk with a loud exclamation. "In past years, I was too busy to deal with them properly. Heh, if this continues, they might actually believe the Tang Dynasty has become a Buddhist kingdom on earth!"

This time, Gao Yanfeng dared not respond. Taking advantage of the moment to pour tea for the emperor, he retreated into the shadows cast by the candlelight, remaining motionless.

Knowing Gao Yanfeng was always cautious in his duties and unwilling to earn the reputation of a sycophantic eunuch, Li Xian smiled and shook his head, not pressing him for further comment.

He then picked up the memorial again, staring at those few lines, savoring their meaning.

"Your Majesty, please drink some hot tea," Gao Yanfeng carefully placed the tea cup at one corner of the imperial desk, gently reminding him. Then, he withdrew into the shadow of the candlelight, perfectly still.

He had already said enough today to justify the few respectful calls of “senior” and the small silver hot pot from the young man. Besides, if he spoke more, the Heavenly Dragon Emperor might detect that his earlier words were a subtle praise wrapped in criticism, which would be unwise for both himself and the young officer.

Emperor Li Xian, who had earned a reputation for prudence throughout his life, surprisingly found himself stirred by an inexplicable personal bias. He sipped the strong tea, then continued to fix his gaze on the memorial, eyes unwavering for a long time.

Whether Zhang Qian’s beating of the monk upheld the court’s dignity was still debatable. But the lines "This world ultimately belongs to Your Majesty, not to you bald-headed thieves" and "Worldly affairs belong to the court, spiritual matters belong to the gods and Buddhas. No matter what sutras you chant, or what faith you follow, you must not overreach your hand!" truly struck a chord deep in his heart.

By right, the Guān Lǒng Li family, claiming descent from the old master Li Er, founder of Taoism, should have had Taoism dominate the Tang Dynasty. Yet the reality was otherwise.

His mother, the Great Holy Empress Wu Zetian, had shown a far greater interest in Buddhism than Taoism in her youth. After seizing the throne, to diminish the Li family’s prestige among the common people, she spared no effort to support Buddhism. Not only did she personally donate vast sums under the guise of cosmetics funds—amounting to hundreds of thousands—but also used state treasury monies to finance the expansion of nearly half the Mogao Caves! (A historical fact.)

The monks, having received funds from the imperial treasury, did more than merely chant sutras and perform rituals. They lent money for profit, bought farmland, and brazenly bribed local officials, opening the door wide for their schemes and fraud.

The result was a chaotic and corrupt society where many local government actions were heavily influenced by “high monks,” who even directly swayed judicial verdicts.

Although Empress Wu, in the last two years of her reign, suddenly repented and began to punish some of the most egregious “high monks,” and although Li Xian himself displayed a cold attitude toward Buddhism after his second accession, it was ultimately too late. His coldness achieved little, and his own wife and daughters preferred chanting sutras and worshipping Buddhas for blessings in the next life.

Therefore, when Emperor Li Xian received the secret report from the Hundred Riders Division today, he was not at all surprised that monks would be so brazen as to extort a sitting fifth-rank high official.

Moreover, he could confidently infer that behind the monk stood a top-level powerful patron. Supported by such influence, the monk was probably even more arrogant on other days, thus daring to provoke Zhang Qian, a rash young official, first.

He was not surprised by Zhang Qian’s reaction either. At only twenty-two, holding a full fifth-rank position, it was no wonder he was proud and reacted fiercely when unjustly driven away by a monk.

What puzzled Li Xian was the very words Zhang Qian uttered while beating the monk.

They seemed deliberately meant for him, the emperor, or rather, directly addressing the ills of the Tang Dynasty.

"This world ultimately belongs to Your Majesty, not to you bald-headed thieves!"

"Worldly affairs belong to the court, spiritual matters belong to the gods and Buddhas. No matter what sutras you chant, or what faith you follow, you must not overreach your hand!"

These two lines rang with undeniable authority.

Replace “bald-headed thieves” with Taoist priests, church elders, or even Confucian scholars, and they would be equally applicable!

Within Tang territory, temples were not limited to Buddhist ones. There were Taoist temples, Christian churches, Flame Temples, Crescent Temples... altogether, counting their branches, probably more than forty varieties.

If each meddled in court affairs as the Buddhists did, whose Tang Dynasty would it truly be?

The thought that either he or his descendants could become puppets of some religious sect sent a chill down Li Xian’s spine. His gaze on the memorial sharpened.

Yet after staring for a while, he decisively lifted his head. Looking toward the shadowy figure hidden in candlelight—Deputy Chief Zheng Kejun of the Hundred Riders Division, ghostlike—he smiled and asked, "Deputy Chief Zheng, who submitted this memorial? Was your division present at the scene, or had you already successfully entered Zhang’s residence?"

End of excerpt.