Chapter 604: Meng Chang: The Seven Treasures Chamber Pot, Good to Use

It was September, and within the city of Chengdu, the hibiscus planted everywhere were blooming splendidly in the wind, displaying a riot of colors. Gazing into the distance, clusters of flowers resembled a stretch of brocade—a scene of lush prosperity, dreamlike and intoxicating. Along the city walls, pavilions stood everywhere, and sightseers thronged like clouds, heads bobbing and jostling as they took in the bustling splendor.

The Two Rivers region had enjoyed over twenty years of peace without the scourge of war, and the people of Shu—especially those on the Chengdu plain—had likewise savored more than two decades of tranquility. Under the governance of the Shu sovereign Meng Chang, the economy flourished and culture prospered.

However, those who could most wantonly enjoy—even squander—this prosperity were the bureaucrats, landowners, and wealthy merchants of Shu. This was their paradise. The Shu sovereign ruled with lenient simplicity, and toward his ministers he had always been generous, even indulgent.

Within Chengdu, the ranks of high officials, nobles, and immensely wealthy families were too numerous to count. In May of this year, the Shu chancellor Wu Zhaoyi contributed a million in private funds to establish a school, promoting education and learning, causing a sensation at the time. His "selfless" service to the state won him praise and commendation from the Shu sovereign Meng Chang.

Yet beneath the glittering reputation, no one seemed to notice that one could casually part with a million in cash, flinging about enormous sums—a testament to just how wealthy his household was. Even with the dignity of a chancellor, counting only his salary, after deducting daily expenses, give him twenty years—how much could he possibly accumulate?

Of course, for the common folk of Shu, these twenty-odd years could still be counted as happy and comfortable. At least compared to the people of the Central Plains, who struggled desperately amid war and disaster, they were far more fortunate. They could enjoy the Shu sovereign's light corvée and reduced levies; hardship remained hardship, but at least food and clothing could be satisfied.

However, when there was no external threat to worry about, the powerful and privileged of Shu could shut their borders, stay in Chengdu to enjoy themselves, with vermilion gates and fine wine and meat. Once national calamity knocked at the door, their doomsday would draw near.

In fact, quite a few discerning individuals had already seen the crisis hidden beneath the flowers and brocade. The dynasties of the Central Plains were growing ever stronger, their troops ever sharper, and the pace of conquering the various states and unifying the realm was already drawing close.

But for the majority of Shu's bureaucrats and nobles, enjoying the present, numbing themselves, and rotting away—that was the current state of affairs. The state had twice launched northern expeditions with enormous losses, but with Shu's accumulated strength, it could bear it. More importantly, the impact on Shu's bureaucrats and nobles was not so great—what was lost, after all, was merely the state's.

When the Northern Han raised a great army in the southwest with great fanfare, intending to attack Shu, it initially caused a stir—after all, this was a counteroffensive by the Central Plains court. At that time, Chengdu was abuzz with discussion; the tension was real, yet it felt more like gossip-mongering.

Up to now, the Han army had been making continuous moves along the two states' border for over a year without yet launching an attack. Clearly, this was the Northern Han's scheme to exhaust Shu—nothing but intimidation.

And in Chengdu, even the talk of the Northern Han attacking Shu had died out. Those who should enjoy themselves continued to enjoy; those who should earn a living continued to earn—just as they had grown accustomed to over these twenty-odd years.

For Shu, what was even more worthy of concern was that Emperor Meng Chang himself was gradually beginning to slacken.

In the Shu palace, within the Peony Garden, sweet music curled around the rafters. The Shu sovereign Meng Chang was nestled with his Consort Xu, flirting and laughing without end. Seated before a canvas, Meng Chang personally lifted his brush, lightly dipped it in colored ink, and painted peonies...

The beauty beside him had a willowy figure, handsome features, and a moving bearing; her charming face was like a flower—truly a fine companion. Her eyes shimmered with tender waves, gazing at Meng Chang with full affection.

Setting aside Meng Chang's status, he was handsome in appearance and versatile in talents—truly a good match. The beauty's adoring gaze seemed to give Meng Chang tremendous motivation; his brush moved with divine inspiration.

"This 'Peony Painting,' with you by my side, took half a month to complete—finally finished!" Setting down the brush and looking at the "Peony Painting" now fully realized on the white canvas, Meng Chang revealed a slight smile.

"This painting is lifelike, leaping off the paper—even more spirited than the peonies in the garden. Your Majesty's painting skill has truly entered the hall!" Consort Xu said softly beside him, her gentle voice melting the bones.

Hearing this, Meng Chang's brow lightly furrowed, and he shook his head slightly: "My lady need not flatter me. My painting skill can hardly be called exquisite; compared with the great masters of the age, I am still far behind. I capture the form, but lack the spirit!"

Seeing this, Consort Xu's jade-like face once again bloomed with an intoxicating smile, and she said gently: "Your Majesty excels at poetry and rhapsody. If you are not satisfied with this painting, why not inscribe a verse upon it? With Your Majesty's poem, it will serve as the finishing touch!"

Hearing her suggestion, Meng Chang's eyes lit up, and he nodded: "My lady's words are most reasonable! Bring me the brush!"

In composing inscriptions and poetry, Meng Chang indeed had talent and confidence. His brush danced like a dragon, writing and chanting as he went, and a boudoir love poem was immediately set down. Its bold and explicit words made Consort Xu blush to her ears, her eyes brimming with amorous waves, overcome with shyness.

"Bring me my jade seal!" he ordered further.

Soon, dipping it in red ink paste and stamping his private seal, Meng Chang reviewed it again—the content was now much enriched. He nodded, finally satisfied. Looking at Consort Xu, Meng Chang said: "This painting, I bestow upon you!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Consort Xu curtsied gracefully.

The current Consort Xu was a beauty who could topple cities, still young, like a freshly opened bud—tender and alluring. Gazing at that flower-like jade face, Meng Chang felt his heart grow hot; he reached out, drew her slender waist close, and pulled her into his embrace.

Her high, full bosom nearly covered his face. He took a deep sniff, then raised his head with an intoxicated expression, asking curiously: "What new fragrance have you switched to? It smells so wonderful, so soothing to the heart!"

Consort Xu replied: "It is one I newly blended myself—called 'Flowing Cloud Incense'!"

Meng Chang nodded, sniffed the beauty again, then could not resist lifting her up in his arms and carrying her straight to the jade couch, tumbling amid the brocade quilts...

After a bout of pleasure was thoroughly enjoyed, Meng Chang returned to his own palace—the place of governance. Even three years ago, Meng Chang's court had been plain and simple, without brocade finery and with few gold or jade ornaments. Now, however, much splendor had been added—though as an imperial palace, the dwelling of the Son of Heaven, it could hardly yet be called extravagant.

In the fifteen years since ascending the throne, Meng Chang had been diligent and frugal, loving the people as his own children, lenient in punishment and simple in governance—the very image of an enlightened sovereign. After eliminating the old ministers and powerful generals who had constrained him one by one, he entered a new phase: his great policies remained unchanged, but in his private life, he had begun to indulge.

He could still be called an enlightened sovereign, but he spent more time in the harem, his food and clothing gradually grew more refined, and the desire for pleasure had begun to sprout and spread. After all, having been a wise and virtuous ruler for so many years, governing Shu to its present prosperity, a bit of enjoyment hardly seemed worthy of blame.

Moreover, for so many years, his ministers had lived in extravagant fashion with all manner of pleasures—how could he alone, the Son of Heaven, be made to suffer? Meng Chang chose to compensate himself for nearly twenty years of frugality and plainness.

"Your Majesty, this is a new chamber pot crafted by the inner palace!" Just as he returned to the hall, a palace eunuch, beaming with smiles, presented a night pot to Meng Chang like offering a treasure.

It was an extremely exquisite urinal, decorated with extraordinary brilliance—agate, jadeite, night pearls, and other rare valuables adorned its surface...

With a single glance, Meng Chang angrily said: "For a mere chamber pot, to waste such extravagance on its making—this is simply absurd! Are you trying to ruin my simple style and frugal virtue?"

The eunuch was startled and immediately knelt: "Your Majesty, forgive me! It was we who took the liberty. I shall take it back at once and have the craftsmen dismantle it..."

"Enough!" Meng Chang's angry expression eased somewhat. After seeming to consider for a moment, he sighed: "So many rare treasures have already been spent on making it; to destroy it now, and have that spread abroad—would that not make it seem even more extravagant and wasteful! Since it is already made, let it be used!"

"Yes! Your Majesty is wise!"

Waving his hand, Meng Chang withdrew his gaze from the chamber pot without the slightest reluctance. He sat at the imperial desk and began flipping through the memorials submitted from below. After only glancing at a few, his mind began to drift.

For Meng Chang as he was now, the throne was secure, great power was in his grasp, the treasuries were full, and the common people were at peace. Aside from the threat of the Northern Han, there seemed to be nothing worthy of his anxiety...

That night, rising from Consort Xu's fragrant bed, he ordered someone to fetch that "Seven Treasures Chamber Pot," and only then discovered that in the dimness, it actually emitted a play of colorful light—dreamlike and illusory. He almost could not bear to defile it with urine.

However, after releasing himself, an indescribable sense of satisfaction gradually filled his chest. This night pot was indeed good to use...