Chapter 190: That Gleam of Light in History
The eighth portrait in the Lingyan Pavilion was that of Wang Zhice.
For anyone with even a slight understanding of history, it was clear that Wang Zhice was a true legend. Born into poverty with no aptitude for cultivation whatsoever, he nonetheless managed to enter the Heavenly Academy to study. During the reign of the Grand Ancestor, he served as an ordinary clerk in the court until, past the age of forty, he suddenly achieved enlightenment overnight. Starlight projection fell over the entire city of Chang'an, allowing him to leap directly from Marrow Cleansing to Penetrating Obscurity, and from there he became a powerhouse of his generation.
Even more admirable was that Wang Zhice's knowledge spanned both the northern and southern traditions, and he was especially skilled in military strategy, troop deployment, and formation tactics. He followed His Majesty the Taizong Emperor on several northern campaigns, eventually becoming the deputy commander of the allied forces. Leading the grand army, he repeatedly broke through the main forces of the demon race, and even took a crack cavalry unit across the snow plains, charging all the way to the foot of the Helan Mountains, less than eight hundred li from Snow Old City.
If one were to count only military achievements, or consider only his importance to that war, Wang Zhice was the brightest star among that dazzling constellation—the only one who could stand shoulder to shoulder with His Majesty the Taizong Emperor. With his illustrious merits, he was certainly qualified to rank eighth among the meritorious officials in the Lingyan Pavilion. In fact, according to popular opinion, he should have been ranked even higher, at least within the top three.
The reason he was placed eighth in the Lingyan Pavilion was simple: his military achievements and status among the people were too high, even to the point of overshadowing the sovereign. More critically, during the Hundred Herb Garden Incident in the late years of the Grand Ancestor's reign, he did not declare his stance in time like the Duke of Zhao, Chen Gong, Qin Zhong, Yugong, and others, nor did he firmly stand on the side of the Taizong Emperor. For this reason, no matter how many merits he accumulated, he could never gain the absolute trust of the Taizong Emperor. His loyalty was always subject to suspicion. Thus, after the great war ended, he retired to his residence and never concerned himself with state affairs again.
Standing before the portrait, looking at the middle-aged man holding a jade ruler with a serene expression, Chen Changsheng remained silent for a long time. Then he continued to look at the portraits below.
Next, he saw the portraits of Qin Zhong and Yugong. These two divine generals, who had served by the side of the Taizong Emperor, possessed unparalleled might. Now, they also enjoyed unparalleled fame, for their portraits were pasted on the doors of both the palace and common households, identical to those in the Lingyan Pavilion.
Like the other worthies in the Lingyan Pavilion, these two divine generals were still human, yet they had already become gods.
Chen Changsheng's footsteps moved slowly, his gaze shifting slowly. The jade-like torch was clutched tightly in his hand, and the light and shadow on the gray walls shifted subtly, making the figures in the portraits seem to gain many emotions.
The people in these portraits, like Wang Zhice, were all legends of their time, each with their own unique story. The atmosphere in the Lingyan Pavilion was solemn and dignified, but the figures in the portraits were not so. Each was different—some appeared frivolous, like the divine general Cheng Mingjie, while others were exceptionally stern and cold, like the Duke of Zheng.
It did not take long for Chen Changsheng to finish viewing the twenty-four portraits on the eastern wall. These were the meritorious officials who had first received this honor when the Taizong Emperor established the Lingyan Pavilion. Afterward, there were several dozen more portraits, which were those of officials who had entered the Lingyan Pavilion during the reigns of the previous emperor and Her Holiness the Empress Dowager.
Chen Changsheng grew increasingly silent. From the Grand Ancestor's overthrow of the previous dynasty, to the Taizong Emperor's stabilization of the realm, to Her Holiness the Empress Dowager's ascension, many great events had occurred over the long span of a thousand years. The people in the Lingyan Pavilion were all participants in these events. They were truly great figures who existed in history. In other words, they were history itself.
Walking through the Lingyan Pavilion was like walking through the long river of history. Those portraits bore the vicissitudes of history, and even more so, the weight of history. Countless secrets vanished with the departed, silent and wordless, yet those secrets lay within, carrying countless earth-shattering events of the past. If the worthies in the portraits could come back to life, or if they had left behind some information that later generations could decipher, scholars of history would surely have no more regrets.
It took about half an hour to view all the portraits in the Lingyan Pavilion. Chen Changsheng walked back to the meditation cushion in the center of the hall, stood still, and began to ponder some matters.
After a moment, a bell sounded. The bell came from the ground above, somewhat distant, so it seemed especially clear and serene, but it only roused him from his contemplation without allowing him to calm his mind.
With this bell sound, the torch he had been holding in his hand extinguished instantly, plunging the Lingyan Pavilion into pitch darkness. Not a single ray of light seeped through the gaps in the doors and windows.
Chen Changsheng looked into the darkness around him and understood something. Those who ranked on the Grand Examination list were to spend a night in silent contemplation in the Lingyan Pavilion. The first requirement was the word "stillness." In the Lingyan Pavilion, there were no external distractions to disturb the mind. The bell sound was clear and serene, and now it was impossible to see anything. Other than sitting quietly on the cushion in meditation, there was nothing else to do.
The Great Zhou Dynasty hoped that the portraits in the Lingyan Pavilion and that initial aura would resonate with those who entered the pavilion to sit in stillness, even to the point of harmonizing, thereby strengthening their spiritual conviction to serve the imperial court, the royal family, and Her Holiness the Empress Dowager.
In previous years, those who ranked on the Grand Examination list were either disciples of the Li Mountain Sword Sect or southerners, who had little sense of belonging to the Great Zhou Dynasty to begin with. Moreover, upon entering the pavilion, they naturally resisted that powerful aura, making it difficult to fulfill the original intention of the person who designed this rule—to solidify their spirit.
Chen Changsheng was a Zhou native, so it was indeed possible for him to fulfill the original intention of the Grand Examination system's designer. However, once he entered the Lingyan Pavilion, he simply could not calm his mind. His thoughts could not settle on the future of the nation or the unification of the human world; they could only fall on more minute, or rather more personal, matters.
Time passed slowly, silently, and still no light appeared.
Chen Changsheng did not sit on the meditation cushion to quietly spend the night, as those who had ranked before him had done. Instead, he unfastened the short sword from his waist, held the scabbard in his left hand, and extended it into the air before him. In the Lingyan Pavilion, as dark as night, one could not see one's hand in front of one's face, and the short sword was also invisible. But since leaving Xining Town, this short sword had rarely left his side, and he was very familiar with it. He raised his right hand and accurately grasped the hilt.
His two hands slowly separated, but the short sword did not separate from the scabbard. What he drew out was not a blade, but a mass of light. Like the rising sun at dawn, the Lingyan Pavilion was instantly illuminated.
A perfectly round night pearl appeared in the palm of his right hand.
Soft light illuminated the gray walls and, filtering through the gaps between his fingers, lit up the floor. Behind him, a long shadow stretched out, gradually fading as the night pearl grew brighter.
He confirmed that no light would leak through the cracks in the doors and windows of the Lingyan Pavilion, so he was not worried.
Holding the night pearl aloft, he walked toward the portraits.
Walking through the silent Lingyan Pavilion, the darkness of the night was dispelled by the gleam of light in his palm, gradually revealing the truth. He looked at the people in the portraits, and felt as if the people in the portraits were looking back at him.
Suppressing this strange sensation, he once again came before Wang Zhice's portrait.
He gripped the short sword and thrust its sharp tip into the gap between the blue bricks beside the portrait. Slowly and carefully, he pushed it forward. His hands, holding the hilt, trembled slightly, and his knuckles turned white.