Chapter 1061: Intoxicating

The one in charge of the ceremonial rites was Zhang Zhao, Grand Academician of the Wenhua Hall. There had actually been a competition for this position of master of ceremonies, with the main rival being Liu Wensou, Minister of Rites.

However, although he had not held an actual post at court for a long time, in terms of age and seniority, Zhang Zhao far surpassed Liu Wensou. Moreover, he had served as Commissioner of Ceremonies in his early years, and the restoration and formulation of the Great Han's ceremonial rites had been carried out under his leadership. Add to that the fact that he was tutor to the imperial princes, even Emperor Liu had to show him some face.

Zhang Zhao was already approaching seventy, and he had poured tremendous effort into this grandest ceremony since the founding of the state. The position of master of ceremonies could not bring him much power, but the intangible boosts to his reputation and honor were still very important to him.

Zhang Zhao was precocious in youth, had read widely through the classics, and was versed in the histories of various schools—a man of broad learning and great self-confidence. At his age, he might not care about power, but he absolutely cared about fame and reputation. A founding ceremony watched by the entire court and country had stirred up the old scholar's greatest enthusiasm.

The Great Han's Ancestral Temple was built in the southeastern part of the imperial city. Built on the foundations of a previous dynasty's structure, although it received maintenance and repairs every year, it was still rather old and decaying. In scale and grandeur, it could not even compare to the neighboring Zhaolie Temple. Originally, the Ministry of Rites had planned to conscript labor and hastily build a new ancestral temple, but with time so tight, the only way to finish quickly would be at great cost, sparing neither manpower nor money.

Of course, it was stopped by Liu Chengyou—not that all projects that burdened the people and wasted resources were forbidden, but this was clearly a situation Emperor Liu wanted to avoid as much as possible. In the end, the ancestral temple was merely decorated and refurbished.

In fact, throughout the entire process of preparing the ceremony, Liu Chengyou had noticed one thing: although he, the Emperor, had not yet grown complacent, there were obvious changes among his ministers below—a sense of relaxation after achieving great deeds, feeling that the realm was unified, feeling that it was time to enjoy themselves. Many matters were being handled with great effort to make them splendid and glorious, sparing neither expenditure nor manpower.

It must also be said that it was precisely because he detected this shift in thinking, this change in atmosphere, that Emperor Liu, who had himself been somewhat lax, could not help but snap to alertness, not daring to be careless...

Before the Ancestral Temple, the imperial procession and ceremonial guards were fully assembled, guards standing in formation. All civil and military officials, nobles, and meritorious subjects, all in ceremonial caps and court robes, stood in order. The scale was grand, the scene solemn. The sacrificial ceremony had cumbersome procedures and a grave atmosphere, testing both one's composure and one's stamina.

Had this been ten years earlier, Emperor Liu, who had no scruples in his heart, would have only scorned and been annoyed by such procedures and rituals. But now, he enjoyed all of it with a peaceful state of mind, finding these regulations so familiar and dear...

It might sound strange, but as he grew older, as his imperial position stabilized, as his authority expanded, Emperor Liu's inner sense of reverence actually grew stronger. Of course, perhaps it was also because Emperor Liu had realized that, as an autocratic empire under a monarch, these systems and rituals were precisely the embodiment of his authority as the Son of Heaven and his imperial will.

The older he grew, the more Liu Chengyou liked his subjects to obey the rules and submit contentedly within the Great Han's governing system, being obedient subjects of him, Emperor Liu. Under such circumstances, even as an Emperor who stood above everything with limitless power, he gradually bound himself, acting according to rules and regulations, setting an example for the realm. In his early years, Emperor Liu would still make some willful, out-of-line decisions and handle affairs by placing imperial authority above national law, but now, such situations were becoming fewer and fewer.

The splendid court robes and the venerable imperial crown, worn upon his person, were extremely heavy—just like carrying the weight of the rivers and mountains of the state, making one feel as if bearing a thousand jun, making it hard to breathe. However, for Emperor Liu as he was now, his physique, his shoulders, and his will were all sufficient to bear this heavy responsibility, sufficient to lead the operation and development of the nation...

Under the direction of the master of ceremonies Zhang Zhao, the sacrificial rite gradually unfolded—addresses, prostrations, all done by the book. Everything proceeded very smoothly. In such an environment, under such an atmosphere, everyone was bound, reverently obeying the ritual system, not daring the slightest transgression or lapse in decorum.

Kneeling on the cushion, surrounded by the crowd of ten thousand, Liu Chengyou's straight back seemed somewhat aloof, towering above everyone else. At this moment, all could only gaze at his back—the imperial clan, the ancestral relatives, the dukes and ministers, the high officials. All those figures who seemed exalted in the eyes of ordinary people seemed fit only to prostrate themselves at his feet.

Standing aloof above all things, Emperor Liu suddenly felt a pride of treading the entire realm beneath his feet. This was a contradictory emotion—he both revered his position and power, yet also took pride in his ability to control them.

In truth, at this moment, Liu Chengyou was not particularly moved by these ancestors he was worshipping, nor did he hold much reverence for them. The ancestors enshrined in the Ancestral Temple, from distant to recent, totaled five figures: Wen Zu Liu Tuan, De Zu Liu Ang, Yi Zu Liu Zhuan, Xian Zu Liu Tian, and Gaozu Liu Gao.

Of course, in Emperor Liu's view, aside from Liu Zhiyuan, all the other ancestors were merely filling space. And in the future, the central position, receiving the worship and offerings of later emperors and the realm's subjects, should be his own...

After the rites were completed, Liu Chengyou was the first to rise, flicking his dragon robe, his dominance leaking out. Zhang Zhao asked whether they should continue. Giving a brief glance around, everyone had composed their expressions and folded their hands, but their fatigue was hard to conceal. This was to be expected—for such a solemn ceremony lasting so long, both mind and body were in a state of tension.

Even Emperor Liu himself was somewhat weary. However, all the procedures had been arranged in advance, and Liu Chengyou did not like interruptions. So he simply gave a calm order to move to the Zhaolie Temple to pay homage to the fallen soldiers.

The Zhaolie Temple was built in the twelfth year of Qianyou, taking half a year to complete, conscripting over ten thousand laborers, and costing more than two hundred thousand strings of cash. According to Emperor Liu's wishes, it was built to commemorate all the soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the establishment, development, defense, and expansion of the Great Han, with two sacrifices each year to comfort their heroic spirits.

Among them, the largest project was the carving of stone records of merit. Those with outstanding contributions had their names and deeds recorded, and regardless of rank—officer or soldier—all who died in battle had their names carved on the steles. As of the first year of Kaibao, tracing back to the twelfth year of Tianfu (947), over a full sixteen-year span, the number of Great Han soldiers whose names were carved at the Zhaolie Temple had reached two hundred thirteen thousand seven hundred eighty-nine.

This also meant that during these sixteen years, more than two hundred thousand soldiers had truly shed their blood and given their lives for the Great Han. Moreover, due to the passage of time in the early years of the state, the inconvenience of unification, or poor management of archival records, omissions were inevitable, as were underreports caused by incomplete systems and weak control in the early years—the true number was even greater.

The establishment of the Zhaolie Temple had a great impact on the military, winning the hearts of the soldiers. The soldiers' sense of identification with the imperial house and the state was further enhanced. A resting place for souls had an especially pronounced effect on spiritual encouragement, the reinforcement of loyalty, and the cohesion of hearts.

Because it was adjacent to the Ancestral Temple, moving to the Zhaolie Temple did not take much time. However, following the entire procedure through, by the time the equally solemn and reverent sacrificial ceremony ended, nearly a full shichen had been consumed.

By midday, Emperor Liu finally showed mercy and gave everyone time to rest. For all present, being able to participate in the grand ceremony was a reflection of status and honor, but it was equally an ordeal. However, in many cases, spiritual excitement was enough to reduce the suffering of the body.

Considering that many people, in order to ensure the solemnity of the ceremony and avoid accidents, had not eaten—even by noon they were still enduring the hardship, seemingly waiting for the evening imperial banquet—Liu Chengyou was not an Emperor who failed to show consideration for his ministers, so he had some drinking water and dry rations prepared for supply.

After the ceremony ended and a brief rest was taken, the imperial procession set out for the military review. In the past, Liu Chengyou's military reviews were held either at the imperial army camps, in the Kaifeng palace gardens, or before the imperial city. But this time, there was an adjustment—it was changed to a military parade. From the imperial army of the Three Yamen, thirty thousand cavalry and infantry soldiers were selected, fully equipped, and marched along a predetermined route through the main thoroughfares of the Eastern Capital, displaying the Great Han's military might to the capital's scholars and commoners.

At the same time, on the banks of the Bian River, the training of the naval forces was reviewed—though this was a ceremony with a heavier performative nature. After reviewing the troops, the imperial procession returned to the imperial city, and the Emperor personally ascended the palace towers to receive the homage of the myriad people.

South of the imperial city, the large tract of vacant land originally reserved for expanding the palace had long been converted into a plaza. A multitude gathered, people packed shoulder to shoulder and heel to heel, their breath forming clouds, their sweat falling like rain, the atmosphere sustained at a fever pitch. The assembled citizens of the Eastern Capital numbered fully two hundred thousand—this accounted for nearly a quarter of Kaifeng's population.

Because the crowd was so enormous, the Kaifeng Prefecture and the Patrol Inspector's Office had set up checkpoints to intercept and divert the people; otherwise, the plaza before the imperial city could not have accommodated the enthusiastically surging citizens of the Eastern Capital. This was nearly a city-wide celebration. Every household was filled with joy, and the city's taverns, restaurants, teahouses, and entertainment houses were all packed with patrons.

The prosperity and vitality of Kaifeng seemed to burst forth all at once. Regardless of noble or humble, rich or poor, driven by the will of the state, all displayed joyful faces—cheering for the Emperor, singing praises for the nation, and offering blessings for themselves.

Standing atop the towering palace towers, Emperor Liu looked down at the dense figures before the imperial city, the surging crowd, enjoying their fervent cheers. Although he could not make out their faces, from the thunderous cries of "Long live the Emperor" that shook like ocean waves, he felt a fervor bordering on religious devotion, and he could not help but be intoxicated by it...