Chapter 10: Chapter Ten: The Unyielding Soul of a People

Slowly, before the idol, more and more people gathered — the woman who swept the temple, Yin Yaozi, several of Zhou Xiahu's young men who looked at Zhang Chao with complicated expressions, and the children who had been running back and forth.

Even Lady Cao Sanniang came over, supported by Shanniang. Amid Old Zhongweng's proud words, some had already knelt before Zhang Yichao's idol, sobbing quietly.

In truth, these people — including Qi Xiahu — had all once been old subordinates and supporters under Zhang Chengfeng. After the Caos replaced the Zhangs, their days had grown hard, as one might imagine. Otherwise they would never have been swayed by this old Zhongweng's foolish plan, for they truly could not go on living like this.

How lamentable! Seeing today's decay against the former might of the Zhang family's Guiyi Army, no one could hold back the tears in their eyes.

In truth, it was not only the mighty Guiyi Army — that Great Tang which had made countless Han folk proud, that Chang'an they yearned for in their dreams, were all gone now.

Once, one Han had matched ten barbarians. Now, in the northwest, only the two prefectures of Gua and Sha remained, and even those were steadily being infiltrated by the Uyghurs.

Zhang Chao stood solemnly before Zhang Yichao's idol, his own heart surging. Without understanding the misery of the Han people of the Hexi Corridor after the An Lushan Rebellion, one could not understand the weeping now.

The histories record that after the Tibetans occupied the Hexi Corridor, they abolished the Tang administrative system and replaced it with a tribal system. At the same time, they forcibly pushed a policy of Tibetanization, making the Han folk of Hexi change their clothing, learn the Tibetan tongue, and paint their faces red and tattoo their bodies.

These Great Tang soldiers and civilians, stranded in Hexi, had not only become slaves of a fallen state — they could not even preserve their Han customs and habits, becoming in fact the slaves of the Tibetan nobility.

They could only, each year, offer sacrifice to their fathers and grandfathers, dress in the clothing of the Central Kingdom, wail aloud, and then hide the garments away. That is, only at festivals could they dare to quietly take out their treasured Han clothing, put it on, weep through the rites, and then be forced to hide the clothes again — for if the Tibetans learned of it, their very lives would be at risk.

It was by clinging to these brief moments that great numbers of Han people in Hexi had, with great difficulty, preserved their inner sense of being Han.

In the first year of Changqing under Emperor Muzong of Tang (821), the Tang envoy Liu Yuanding traveled to Lhasa to take part in the Changqing Alliance. Passing through Longzhi City (the old city north of Minhe County, Qinghai), several thousand elders gazed upon the Tang banners and wept, bowing. In tears they asked whether the Son of Heaven was well.

"Long ago we followed the army and were lost here. To this day our descendants cannot bear to forget Tang dress. Does the court still remember us? When will the soldiers come?"

By this time, a full fifty-seven years had passed since the fall of the Hexi Corridor. Those who had been born under the Great Tang and grown up under the Great Tang were nearly all gone.

Yet the people of Hexi still recognized the Great Tang's banners, still remembered their former homeland, and still foolishly hoped that the Son of Heaven in Chang'an would one day recover Hexi and save them from fire and water.

However, they did not wait for the court's soldiers. Instead, twenty-seven years later, Zhang Yichao — born of a famed Shazhou family — rose in revolt at the "advanced age" of forty-nine, leading the people and recovering the Hexi Corridor, including the prefectures of Gua, Sha, Gan, Su, and Liang.

Regrettably, the good times did not last. Times changed, and the Han folk of Hexi had again reached their final hour. Now they held only the lands of Gua and Sha. Far from recovering Hexi once more, they could not even defend themselves.

So what they wept for was not merely the passing of Zhang Yichao, and what they cherished was not merely the Great Tang. It was the burning soul of their people within their hearts — the soul that refused to sink under the barbarians, that would not forget its ancestors.

"West to Yiwu, east to Lingwu; more than four thousand li of land gained, a million households; the mountains and rivers of six commanderies, restored as if of old." Zhang Chao recited softly, then looked toward Old Zhongweng.

"With such ancestors, as descendants of such heroes under heaven — Zhongweng, tell me, would I, Zhang Zhao, collude with the Uyghurs to bring chaos upon my own countrymen? Would I hand over my own woman with both hands? If I did such a thing, what face would I have to meet the Grand Guardian below the Nine Springs?"

At the words "my own woman," Lady Cao Sanniang's face reddened, and in an instant she grew flustered. Since when had this old lady said she would marry a little brat like you?

Still, she felt especially gratified by Zhang Chao's declaration. Now that was a true son of Han!

"Well said, young lord! Though my Cao family holds the great power of the Guiyi Army, we too live under the Grand Guardian's shelter. My grandfather, the Linggong Great King (Cao Yijin), never mistreated the Zhang family — he himself was the Grand Guardian's granddaughter's husband!"

That was not entirely false. Zhang Zhao, as a direct blood descendant of Zhang Chengfeng, was certainly not favored — political struggle knows no moment of softness.

But the entire Zhang family of Dragon Tongue had not suffered greatly in the Cao family's replacement of the Zhangs. After all, there were only so many Han people in the two prefectures of Gua and Sha, and they had long intermarried and become extremely close kin.

Zhang Chao did not answer. Instead, he knelt on both knees beneath Zhang Yichao's idol. In his dream, he had seen golden light shoot from the idol's eyes and belly, as though something were hidden within.

If this transmigration had been summoned by Zhang Yichao's heroic spirit in heaven, if it had come about because Zhang Zhao's day-and-night prayers had moved him to save the people of this valley, and if he had deliberately been shown the idol, then there must be a reason for it.

"Zhongweng, do you not find it strange — why I, Zhang Zhao, have changed from a foolish young man who knew only to chant Buddha's name, into today's Zhang Erlang?" Zhang Chao looked toward Old Zhang Zhong behind him.

Zhang Zhong smacked his lips twice. Come to think of it, that was true! These past few days he had been so worried about the trouble he had caused that he had never stopped to wonder why the young lord had suddenly become like a different person.

"It is because the Grand Guardian sent me a dream! The Grand Guardian could not bear to see the Zhang line die out, could not bear to watch the last home of the Tang sons of Hexi collapse. So in my dream he appeared to me in his holy form and told me that fifty years ago, he had instructed my grandfather to cast a suit of golden armor — impenetrable to blade and spear — to help his descendants slay their enemies in time of peril!"

Uh! Lady Cao, who had just begun to feel gratified and admiring, was dumbfounded again. Old Zhongweng was dumbfounded. Everyone in the room was dumbfounded.

At a time like this, instead of thinking of a plan, he was talking about an ancestor sending dreams? If clay ancestors were of any use, they would have long since knocked their heads bloody begging the ancestors to help them fight back to Chang'an and restore the Great Tang. Qi Xiahu's temple had been built only a dozen or so years ago. Fifty years ago, there had been nothing here at all!

Zhang Chao ignored the crowd's stares. He picked up an iron hammer and began smashing the dilapidated idol of Zhang Yichao. He had not believed in ghosts and gods either, but at this moment, he could not shake the feeling that this idol and his transmigration were surely connected.

Zhang Zhong wailed and threw himself at Zhang Chao, trying to stop the young lord. What descendant smashed his own ancestor's idol? This was the height of unfiliality!

Boom! But before he could get close, the idol was smashed apart by Zhang Chao — and... there really did seem to be something inside!

The newly risen morning sun streamed in through the broken window, and at once countless rays of golden light burst forth from within the idol. After a cloud of dust, the idol lay utterly shattered. People stared wide-eyed — a suit of dark-gold mingguang armor appeared before their eyes.

Phoenix-wing helmet, vajra face mask, tiger-head shoulder guards, a gleaming golden heart-protecting mirror, torso armor, arm guards, rhinoceros-hide leather belt, thigh armor, and skirt armor — everything was complete.

To the left of the armor stood a cavalry lance over six chi long, its black shaft and white spearhead flashing cold light. To the right was thrust a hengdao saber over two chi long, its green scabbard and white blade glinting faintly.

Everyone was stunned. They looked at Zhang Chao as though he were a god descended from heaven.

The ancestor really had manifested his holy presence!

Dunhuang at this time devoutly believed in Buddhism and spoke often of spirits and ghosts. The people were already deeply superstitious, and seeing such a scene, they could scarcely contain themselves. Everyone was thinking — could the Grand Guardian truly be watching over his descendants from heaven?

"Grand Guardian! Please save us Han folk of Hexi! The Great Tang is gone! You too have passed away! We have held on in such bitter suffering!

The young lord thought day and night of nothing but how to restore the Han family. Do you know, the young lord (Zhang Chengfeng) lived only twenty-three years! He died of sheer suffocating anguish!

Now in the entire Zhang family of Dragon Tongue, I, an old servant, am the only one left who still remembers your dying wish! Please save us!"

The old man Zhongweng finally broke down. With a thud, he dropped to one knee and kowtowed like a pestle pounding garlic. Everyone else, including Lady Cao, also began knocking their heads with thud after thud, all begging the Grand Guardian's protection!

"Hahaha!" Zhang Chao laughed up at the sky. Now he knew why this idol had appeared in his dream.

This armor inside the idol — was it not his own proudest work, the imitation Great Tang mingguang armor that had taken him two and a half years to make?

Those two great steel plates on the heart-protecting mirror — he had insisted on adding them, and had nearly been flamed to death by a group of strict historical-armor makers!

It seems Heaven's will has sent me to restore the glory of the Great Tang!

Zhang Chao turned back to look at the crowd. He did not know what suffering these valley people and Lady Cao had endured in history, but from this moment on, everything had changed. There would be no more misery — only the glory of restoring the rivers and mountains!

From this day forward, the Republic has lost a cold-weapons enthusiast named Zhang Chao, and the Great Tang has gained a Zhang Zhao!

Hexi, I have come! Chang'an, I have come! Great Tang, I have come!

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