Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

Chapter 282 All Nations Pay Tribute

The court assembly at Taiji Hall lasted from noon until late afternoon.

The thirteen delegations, in order of their arrival, presented their credentials, offered tribute, and read congratulatory messages. Officials from the Court of State Ceremonial moved about busily, interpreters were sweating profusely, and the Ministry of Rites constantly adjusted the seating arrangement—some envoys from vassal states were particular about their seating order; Goguryeo did not want to be ranked after Balhae, Champa believed that Srivijaya should not be ranked before them, and the Arab envoys went so far as to state that they came from the distant West and deserved "respect commensurate with their distance."

Chen Xing sat upright on his throne, watching everything quietly without saying a word.

Jia Wen stood beside the throne, occasionally leaning down to whisper a few words to him. He noticed that whenever an envoy argued over seating arrangements, a very faint smile would appear on His Majesty's lips—a smile without sarcasm, only a knowing understanding of the rules of the game.

The dispute was eventually mediated by Jia Wen. His solution was simple: arrange them according to distance, with the furthest one first. Thus, the Fulin envoy stood first, followed by the Arabs, then India, then Ferghana, Khotan, Yanqi, Uyghurs, Tibet, Nanzhao, Champa, Srivijaya, Goguryeo, and Balhae.

The Goguryeo envoy's expression was not good, but he ultimately said nothing. After all, Fulin was indeed far away, while Goguryeo was very close.

The messengers stepped forward one by one.

The messenger, holding an exquisite glass goblet, recited a hymn in Greek. After the interpreter translated it, Chen Xing nodded slightly, gesturing for the eunuch to take the goblet. He examined it for a moment—the goblet was completely transparent, as thin as a cicada's wing, and shimmered with iridescent light under the candlelight in the hall.

"Excellent craftsmanship," he said. "Go back and tell your emperor that I am very pleased. Next year, I will send envoys to return the visit, bringing with them silk and porcelain from our dynasty."

The envoy from Fulin was overjoyed and immediately knelt down in worship.

When the Arab envoy presented the rose water, he emphasized, "This water is distilled from rose petals; a single drop can perfume an entire room. My king has heard that the nobles of the Celestial Empire love fragrances, and has specially ordered me to bring ten bottles."

Chen Xing took a bottle, sniffed it lightly, and nodded: "It smells really good. My imperial concubine likes these very much, so I'll accept them on her behalf. Go back and tell your Caliph that I intend to set up a ward in Guangzhou specifically for Arab merchants to live and trade. Your people can have their own markets, their own mosques, and their own judges—as long as they abide by the laws of my dynasty, I will not interfere."

The Arab envoy's eyes lit up, and he bowed deeply.

When the Indian monk Bodhidharma presented Buddhist scriptures, Chen Xing personally rose and accepted them with both hands. This action stunned everyone in the hall—the emperor had never received an envoy with such solemnity.

"Although I am not a Buddhist disciple," Chen Xing said slowly, "I know that Buddhism has been transmitted to the East for thousands of years and has long been integrated into the blood of the Chinese people. I will enshrine this scripture in the Great Ci'en Temple so that monks in both capitals can bask in the Buddha's light."

Bodhidharma clasped his hands together, tears glistening in his eyes.

When the envoy from the Ferghana Mongols presented the Ferghana horse, Chen Xing stepped down from his throne and personally approached the horse. The horse was entirely crimson, with a long neck, and showed no fear upon seeing a stranger, merely snorting softly.

"What a fine horse." Chen Xing stroked its mane. "When I was a child in the north, I heard storytellers recounting tales of Ferghana horses, and I was always drooling with delight. I never imagined that one day I would be able to see a real Ferghana horse with my own eyes."

He turned to Noriyuki, who was standing to the side, and said, "This horse is yours."

Dian Xiong was taken aback, then overjoyed, and knelt down with a thud: "Thank you, Your Majesty! This humble general... this humble general will certainly ride it and conquer the northern desert for Your Majesty!"

Chen Xing chuckled: "There's no need to flatten the northern desert. Just ride it around the training ground a few times and show those greenhorns what a BMW is."

A good-natured laugh rang out in the hall.

When the Khotan envoy presented the half-person-high piece of bluish-white jade, Chen Xing stared at it for a long time.

The jade is engraved with eight characters: "May the world be one family, and may you live ten thousand years." The handwriting is elegant and refined, clearly commissioned by the King of Khotan from a Han Chinese.

"I will accept this jade," he said. "But I dare not accept the words 'May you live ten thousand years.' I only wish to do what I should do while I am on the throne. As for what happens after I am gone, let future generations judge."

He paused, looking at the old man: "How old are you this year?"

The old man bowed and said, "Your Majesty, this old minister is seventy-three years old."

"You're seventy-three, and you've still traveled such a long way. You must be tired," Chen Xing said gently. "Go back and tell your king that I really like the jade from Khotan; I also really like the people of Khotan. Starting next year, tariffs on Khotan merchants coming to Chang'an will be halved. In addition, I will order someone to record the methods of mining and carving Khotan jade, compile them into a book, and send it back to Khotan. Don't lose the skills passed down from your ancestors."

The old man collapsed to the ground and wept bitterly.

When Sapán presented the Yanqi Dragon Horse, Chen Xing smiled.

"Sapán, this is your third time visiting Chang'an, isn't it?"

Sapang kowtowed repeatedly: "Your Majesty, this is the third time... The first time was last December, the second time was this May, and this time is..."

"Is this a long-term stay?" Chen Xing interrupted him.

Saban was taken aback, then grinned, revealing his front teeth worn smooth by the wind and sand: "Your Majesty is wise! I have rented a shop in the West Market and plan to stay for a few years to make my business stable."

"Alright." Chen Xing nodded. "I'll accept your dragon horses. But I don't want you to give them away for free—go to the Imperial Stud Temple and collect the money, at market price. You're a merchant, not a tribute envoy; I can't let you lose money."

Saban stood there, speechless for a long time.

He had been in business for forty years, and this was the first time he had encountered an emperor like this: he not only accepted your tribute but also gave you money.

The Tibetan envoy remained silent as he presented musk and deer antlers. It wasn't until Chen Xing inquired about the Tibetan king's health that he spoke, his voice low and somber:

"The king is fifty-six years old this year and suffers from a leg ailment that makes it difficult for him to walk. However, upon hearing that Your Majesty has ascended the throne and the hearts of the people are with you, he still ordered his ministers to come. The king said that Tibet and the Central Plains are separated by a mountain, but no matter how high the mountain is, it cannot stop people from traveling."

Chen Xing was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "Go back and tell your king that I don't want to cross that mountain. But I will continue to build the road on this side of the mountain. The Tibetans can come whenever they want. And please make it easy for merchants from the Central Plains to cross as well."

The Tibetan envoy bowed deeply.

When the Nanzhao envoy presented Pu'er tea, he specifically explained: "This tea is made from ancient trees in Wuliang Mountain, Dali, which are thousands of years old. Only one bud and two leaves are picked each year before spring. After processing, it is aged for three years to develop its unique aroma."

Chen Xing took the tea cake, sniffed it, and handed it to the eunuch behind him: "Keep it safe, and let the Imperial Concubine try it later."

He looked at the Nanzhao envoy: "Your Nanzhao has been locked in fierce battles with Tibet for years. I know it's tough for you. But I want to tell you, I will not send troops to help either side fight. I will only build roads, open markets, and allow caravans to pass through. You have copper, salt, and tea, while the Central Plains have silk, ironware, and porcelain. Exchanging goods is far more worthwhile than resorting to arms."

The Nanzhao envoy was taken aback for a moment, then kowtowed deeply.

When the Champa envoy Indravarman presented Champa rice seeds, Chen Xing personally stepped down from his throne and accepted the bag of golden rice.

"This is a good thing," he said. "I will have the Ministry of Agriculture conduct trial plantings in Jiangnan. If it is truly as you say, that it can be harvested in sixty days and yield two harvests a year, then it will feed countless people."

He looked at Indravarman: "What do you want?"

Indravarman was prepared: "Your Majesty, I only ask that you allow Champa merchant ships to anchor in Guangzhou year-round, and treat them the same as Persian and Arab merchants. In addition... I humbly request that Your Majesty bestow upon me a plaque with your calligraphy, to be hung in my royal palace."

Chen Xing smiled: "The first thing, I grant. The second thing—bring me paper and pen."

He immediately picked up his brush and wrote four large characters: "Pillar of the South".

Indravarman accepted it with both hands, trembling with excitement.

When the Srivijaya envoy presented the spices, Chen Xing asked a question:

"Your Srivijaya controls the Strait of Malacca, and all merchant ships passing through must pay taxes to you. I would like to ask you, how much tax do you collect in a year?"

The envoy was taken aback, not expecting the emperor to ask so directly. After a moment's hesitation, he answered truthfully, "About...about two hundred thousand strings of cash."

Chen Xing nodded: "Quite a few. But I've heard that some merchant ships, in order to avoid taxes, would rather detour through the Sunda Strait than go through the Strait of Malacca. Have you considered lowering the taxes to encourage more ships to use your route?"

The envoy was stunned.

He had never thought about this question. The rules of Srivijaya were passed down from their ancestors; taxation is taxation, how could it be reduced?

Chen Xing noticed his confusion and didn't press him, simply saying, "I was just asking. Go back and think it over carefully. Once you've figured it out, come back and talk to me."

After presenting their tribute, the Goguryeo envoys also specially presented a letter. It was a handwritten letter from Crown Prince Go Won, detailing his observations and experiences studying at the Imperial Academy and his feelings about Chang'an. At the end of the letter, he wrote:

"Father, everything is fine in Chang'an. The teachers at the Imperial Academy are very knowledgeable and treat me very well. The streets of Chang'an are even more prosperous than I imagined. I want to stay for a few more years to learn everything I need to know before returning to help you. I am unfilial for not being able to serve you properly; please forgive me, Father."

The Goguryeo envoy's eyes reddened after reading the letter.

Chen Xing was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "The Crown Prince is a good child. I will have someone take good care of him. Go back and tell your king that the Crown Prince can stay as long as he wants. When he wants to return, I will send someone to escort him."

The Goguryeo envoy prostrated himself on the ground.

When the Bohai envoy presented the gyrfalcon, the bird suddenly flapped its wings, broke free of its golden chain, circled once in the hall, and then landed steadily on the armrest of the throne.

A gasp of surprise rippled through the hall.

Chen Xing remained motionless. He simply looked into the gyrfalcon's sharp eyes, and the gyrfalcon looked back at him.

A moment later, the gyrfalcon flapped its wings and took flight, passing through the palace gate and disappearing into the winter sky.

The Bohai envoy turned deathly pale and kowtowed repeatedly, pleading, "Your Majesty, please forgive me! This...this beast is ignorant..."

Chen Xing waved his hand, interrupting him: "The gyrfalcon is the god among eagles. Who can stop a god's choice? It is its destiny to land on my armrest; it is its freedom to fly away if it wishes. I do not blame it."

He paused, looking at the envoy: "Go back and tell your king that I have taken the matter of Bohai to heart. If the Khitans dare to bully you again, I will let them know that bullying Bohai is bullying me."

The Bohai envoy prostrated himself on the ground and wept bitterly.

As the sun began to set in the west, the court assembly finally came to an end.

The thirteen delegations withdrew from the Taiji Hall in turn. Behind them lay mountains of tribute; before them, the setting sun gradually sank in the west.

Chen Xing stood up, walked to the palace gate, and watched the departing figures of the envoys.

Jia Wen stood to the side and said softly, "Your Majesty, are you exhausted today?"

Chen Xing shook his head without answering. He simply gazed at the sunset on the horizon, at the rows of buildings of Chang'an beneath the sunset, and at the official road leading in all directions in the distance.

"Prime Minister Jia," he suddenly said, "do you remember when we first entered Chang'an?"

Jia Wen paused slightly, then nodded: "This old minister remembers. That year, Chang'an was in a terrible state, with palaces in ruins, streets deserted, and the people looking pale and sickly."

"It's only been two years," Chen Xing said.

Jia Wen followed his gaze. In the distance, the lights of countless homes in Chang'an were lighting up one after another. Wisps of smoke rose from chimneys, and the sounds of people could be faintly heard; everything exuded a sense of life.

"Two years," he murmured repeatedly.

Chen Xing didn't say anything more. He just stood there quietly, gazing at the deepening night and the endless stream of human lights in the darkness.

A cold wind swept by, fluttering his clothes.

The palace doors slowly closed behind him.