If we cannot take the Zhaoning Dynasty a step forward from this starting point, I will not only be letting down the world, but I will also be unable to live with myself.
Lying on my bed at the inn that night, I touched the bronze talisman left by the regent under my pillow.
That was the one she carried when she pacified the Northern Barbarians. It still bore the marks of a knife. I always felt as if she was whispering in my ear, "Your Majesty, go a little further, don't stop."
I once found a few yellowed hand-drawn maps in the Regent's Space library.
The parchment had frayed edges, and winding mountains were outlined on it with charcoal pencil. The lines were rough but powerful, like a sword blade slicing through the paper, and even the direction of the mountains exuded a fierce energy.
The marginal notes were so forceful they penetrated the paper, the ink spreading out slightly, like congealed, still-wet blood.
"There are jackals in the west. Although their wings are not yet fully grown, they will surely become a menace in the long run. We must nip them in the bud and never let them grow into a threat."
After much deliberation, I issued an imperial decree the next day: to send Li Qian, the Vice Minister of Rites, with a delegation of thirty people to explore the west.
Li Qian was a graduate of Xuanwu Academy. He knew some military strategy and geography. He had fought against the Northern Di with the Regent and still had an arrow wound on his arm.
The Imperial Astronomical Bureau Chief, holding a star chart, advised: "Your Majesty, the journey west is long, and there are black sandstorms in winter and spring that could bury the wheels of a carriage."
In summer and autumn, there are miasma-filled forests; even a touch of them will cause one to vomit blood. Your humble servant has calculated that this journey involves crossing eight deserts and five major rivers, three of which are impassable by boat. I fear…”
Before I left, I personally handed Li Qian a gilded tiger tally, pressing my fingertips against the back of his hand.
His hands had a thin layer of calluses on the back, from years of holding a sword, and they were even harder than the calluses on my knuckles.
I said, "Even if it wears out the wheels, we must see and remember the mountains, tribes, and people there."
"I believe the Regent's words; I also believe in your abilities."
When he kowtowed, his forehead struck the gold brick with a resounding thud.
"Your humble servant will not fail in his mission! If I cannot bring back the message, I will die on the westward journey, letting the wind and sand carry the news to Your Majesty for me!"
The mission took a full seven months to complete—one month longer than the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had calculated.
For the past seven months, I have sent people to the post station every month to inquire about news, and each time they have only brought back "no trace of the mission".
In early spring, there were rumors that the mission had been buried by a black sandstorm. The newly appointed Left Prime Minister advised me, "Let it go, the Western Regions are barren lands to begin with."
I suppressed her memorials and continued to send someone to inquire about them every month.
On the last day of the seventh month, a eunuch came to report that "Lord Li requests an audience." I was in the Imperial Garden watching Haoyue chase butterflies, the snow-white fluffy balls causing the flower branches to tremble.
Petals fell all over it, making it look like it was wearing a pink floral coat. It was still foolishly wagging its tail, scattering petals all over the ground.
Before the words were finished, a travel-worn figure knelt down at the foot of the steps.
The robe was worn and frayed, revealing a patched lining underneath, the stitching of which was crooked and uneven.
Its face had sunburnt skin, and the newly grown tender flesh was pink, like a freshly peeled shrimp.
Even his hair was covered in sand, which fell off as he kowtowed, piling up in a small heap on the gold bricks, only to be scattered by the wind.
The report he handed over was still covered in mud, the edges were frayed by the wind, and some parts were soaked in water, making the writing blurry.
When I unfolded it, I was stunned—there was no established state in the west, only a dozen or so scattered tribes called "Da Yuezhi," "Wusun," and "Kangju."
They lived in sheds made of tree bark, which leaked wind in winter and rain in summer, and at night they could only shiver in smelly animal skins.
The men hunted barefoot on the rocky beach, their soles calloused and some even cracked and bleeding. It could take them half a day to chase a deer, and they still weren't guaranteed to catch it.
The women, wrapped in animal skins, gathered wild fruits; their fingertips were cracked like pine bark, and they didn't even know the most basic farming.
In spring, they sow seeds in the ground and wait for rain. In autumn, they can't harvest many grains. When they are hungry, they dig up grass roots. Some grass roots are poisonous and cause diarrhea if eaten.
In the portraits presented by the accompanying painters, the people's hair was tangled up in a mess, covered with grass clippings and mud, like they were wearing bird nests on their heads.
His face was painted with ochre-colored patterns, supposedly to scare away wild animals, but it only made him look wilder.
His brows were furrowed with an untamed wildness. Upon seeing the delegation's steam carriage, he was so frightened that he hid behind a tree, thinking it was a man-eating monster.
The stone axe in his hand hadn't even had its wooden handle smoothed out. When it struck a tree, it only left a shallow mark and couldn't even split the bark. He could only smash it with a stone.
Li Qian knelt below and added, "Your Majesty, they even have a hard time starting a fire. They have to use two stones to knock on the fire for a long time before a spark comes out, and the wind always blows it out."
A child from a tribe, suffering from the cold in winter, almost crawled into a fire, but luckily my servant pulled him away.
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