Chapter 750: Bai Li·Rui Zhi·Jing

The officials led by Xie Yuan had arrived at Yingtai Zhou on the third day afternoon; the officials, exhausted from the heat wave, stood before Ningwu Gate and instantly refreshed.

They woke up!

Zhao Zhu Ge, still in the after-sales period, and Zhao Bao, who had just arrived yesterday, received them together.

The king was here stroking his chin for a while, let alone others; even someone as close as Xie Yuan was dazed for a moment, really unable to fathom the king's intermittently appearing purse.

The king said, 'Let Zhao Zhu Ge first take the officials to gain experience, so that even our own people who have never seen it won't be startled and lose him.'

Therefore all officials must disembark outside Ningwu Gate and on foot measure the king's new pay-to-win achievements.

Ordinary private gardens often follow mountains and waters, winding as they please, with winding paths leading to seclusion and uneven flora, seeking elegance and leisure; this imperial garden, however, has no trace of laxity or indulgence. Within sight, ten miles of vermilion walls wind and stretch, following the terrain and shaped by ritual, bricks and stones laid tightly without gaps, resembling the imperial domain, shutting out the myriad smokes and fires of the mundane world.

Setting aside the officials' facial expressions, not to mention the odd‑looking Minister of Agriculture Zhang, even Liang Ben at the rear felt the king was usually rather stingy.

Who said one couldn't afford a spring river flower moon night in private? Who said one couldn't afford a meal at Pin Hai Lou? This is what several hundred thousand taels can build?! Turns out only he himself couldn't afford it!

Xie Yuan gazed intently: the high walls rose piercing the clouds, standing sheer thousands of ren, exuding a solemn grandeur. The twin gate towers stood firm, east and west. Their bodies carved with dragons and clouds, the patterns intricate yet orderly, each line and posture following ancient rites, devoid of any wantonness. The vermilion gates faced each other, their gilt studs arranged squarely and evenly, warp and weft solemn, symbolizing the laws of the nine provinces and the unity of the four seas. Before the steps, auspicious beasts stood guard, dignified and tranquil, their expressions solemn and majestic, awe‑inspiring without anger. He glanced again at Zhao Zhu Ge, only to find this person ever more inscrutable.

Zhao Zhu Ge already smiled, inviting everyone to enter through the side gate; one step inside, worldly turmoil vanished instantly.

Step through the garden gate, and the realm shifts at once.

Outside the gate lay their carriage procession and farmland, still with human sounds; inside, all clamor ceased, every blade, every eave, every breeze, every scene immersed in solemn imperial aura.

Along the sides of the imperial road, ceremonial trees stood in dense ranks—pines and cypresses in orderly rows, uniform in height and spacing, their canopies shading the road, solemnly guarding the deep garden.

Standing in the middle of the imperial road and gazing far, one only then realizes the vastness of the forbidden garden's domain—no ordinary mortal garden can be compared to it.

It stretches several li east–west and a thousand li north–south. To the left, forests are lush, green mist linking to distant mountains; to the right, ponds are vast, waters swallowing the sky. Pavilions are scattered amidst the open expanse, mountains and waters spread across the boundless terrain.

Zhao Bao glanced at Minister of Agriculture Zhang and felt his complexion was too strange.

Moving forward, all halls were built on high, layered terraces; white jade stone Sumeru bases stacked tier upon tier. The ranks rose step by step—subjects below, the sovereign above; the height difference was the divide between heaven and earth, and looking up naturally evoked a feeling of prostrate reverence. Massive timber served as pillars, wrapped in vermilion lacquer, golden dragons coiled around them, the bases solid and heavy, symbolizing the emperor's foundation as an everlasting rock.

Zhao Zhu Ge continued: '…Yellow tiles denote supremacy, green tiles subsidiary; the tile ends are all carved with dragon and phoenix heavenly patterns, the drips are uniform, not a single piece out of place, fully displaying the imperial family's orderly dignity. Look over there—the garden is extremely spacious, without dense flower planting or piled‑up strange rocks, leaving broad open courtyards to show supremacy through emptiness and might through breadth. Common courtyards seek fullness and ingenuity; imperial gardens seek largeness and correctness. In the openness, the emperor's magnanimity can be accommodated, and the hearts of myriad officials and people can be subdued.'

The officials each listened attentively, instinctively daring not to raise their voices or look around, sleeves folded, eyes down, steps solemn. Though in the garden, they felt no pleasure of sightseeing; everywhere they saw mountains, rivers, pavilions and towers—these were not scenery of wind and moon, but ritual, heavenly majesty, and the emperor's spirit that embraces the eight directions. Private gardens nurture leisure; this imperial garden settles the hearts of men.

Wise people cannot help but think further: letting them tour Yingtai Zhou—how is this not a form of intimidation?

But……is this dismounting aura too great!

These old and young walked from afternoon until the sunset slipped beyond the horizon, yet there were still places they only glanced at from afar.

The sunset fell upon the hall's ridges, myriad golden tiles reflecting the heavens, rosy light suffusing the entire imperial garden. Zhao Zhu Ge finally said that today's tour ends here; the rest is not convenient to bring them inside.

Xie Tu wiped sweat from his face without a trace, then let out a deep sigh.

Yet he sighed too early.

Then he heard Steward Zhao tell his uncle that the officials had been arranged near Ningwu Gate, because it is close to tomorrow's audience at Qianyuan Hall.

Xie Tu: ……

If I remember correctly, Ningwu Gate is the first gate one enters?!

His uncle led the way each day, rising early and working late; today he walked half a day under the sun, not to mention that he had previously ridden a horse for five full days.

I don't know how the Elder Minister of Rites and the Grand Chief of the Clan, who had sat in a carriage for five days, feel; Xie Tu, this horse‑riding youth, upon hearing they must walk back to the starting point, felt his legs would go numb.

Originally he was at the rear, waiting for the main force to resign themselves, turn back and start returning; Xie Tu thought he could struggle a bit.

For example, to see the king once. Taking this chance to rest, perhaps he could even scrounge a meal.

He could be sure the king would not be at Ningwu Gate—hadn't he heard that Ningwu Gate is near the place of duty?

If Wei Shen were here, he would surely jump up to stop him from seeking an audience with the king.

Too bad he isn't here.

Xie Tu took out the latest issue of the weekly report's final draft, solemnly told Zhao Bao he had business to see the king, and Zhao Bao, upon hearing, immediately led the way himself.

The king has been playing here for three days, the novelty already worn off; the child looks bored. For Xie Tu to want to see the king, that's certainly a good thing—he just likes the child to play with a diligent student.

Too bad the diligent student, after learning the address, doesn't really want to play with the laggard.

Xie Tu stood at the mountain's base, gazing at the steep, cloud‑wreathed mountain steps, fell silent. '…Your Majesty, having just arrived at Yingtai Zhou, would it be improper for me to disturb you now? Or perhaps another day…'

Zhao Bao waved his hands repeatedly, 'No, no! Little Xie, sir, just go—Your Majesty has been playing here for three days already!'

Xie Tu: ……

The king was currently having dinner on the sixth floor of Zhai Xing Lou; while waiting for the dishes to be served, he glanced down the mountain and saw Zhao Bao leading a person turning toward the ascent. Too far to make out details, but it wasn't the garb of a little eunuch—plain clothing. He couldn't be bothered to fetch a spyglass; a rough guess sufficed.

'Damn! This person… is either Old Zhang or Old Xie! What the hell…! Someone! Take away all the dishes, leave only this cold salad.'

Wei Shen: '……I disagree!'

The king paid him no heed, the Wise One said: 'If it's Old Xie, he'd claim I got heat‑stricken from rushing about, feeling terribly uncomfortable, with no appetite; if it's Old Zhang, he'd say I'm stubbornly saving face while suffering, eating chaff and drinking broth to build the garden to uphold imperial dignity.' That's just being obstinate.

Wei Shen: ……