Chapter 626: The Supreme Heaven Illuminating God

(This chapter is a bit mystical and will definitely be controversial. Please go easy on me — Tiger is just a web novelist, and this is about the best I can do. 【manual doge】)

When Zhang Zhao said he would use the civil arts to conquer Japan for Murong Xinzhang, he was not joking. He had genuinely put a great deal of thought into this.

And these ideas came from before his transmigration, when Zhang Zhao had worked them out with people online.

Gazing at the candle before him, Sage Zhang — who had almost forgotten electric lights, televisions, airplanes, and cars — gave a bitter, helpless smile, as tide-like memories surged endlessly into his mind.

Wave after wave of recollections, and the terrifying differences between the two worlds, sent bursts of tearing pain through Zhang Zhao's head.

To be honest, he often doubted whether everything before the transmigration had been nothing but a dream of Nanke. In a daze, he felt the whole world begin to sway and grow unreal.

"Ah!" A startled cry, like a nightingale's, yet tinged with alarm — and very loud.

Zhang Zhao was jolted awake by the cry, and in an instant, sweat poured from his body like rain.

Because this Great Sage Zhang suddenly realized that, somehow, he was already standing on the desk by the window, and the next step seemed about to carry him out through it.

"What did you see?" Zhang Zhao whipped his head around and glared sternly at Xiao Sagezhi, who had cried out behind him.

Yesterday, this woman had asked Zhang Zhao for permission to bury the son and daughter of Yelu Ruan, whom Zhao Yanshou had killed.

Though they were not her own children, Xiao Sagezhi could not bear to see them hastily buried, and Zhang Zhao had agreed. She had now come to report back.

Xiao Sagezhi trembled all over as if wracked by fever. She looked at Zhang Zhao, her lips seeming not her own, and only after a long while managed to finish speaking.

"This slave... this slave saw the moonlight shining upon the Sage, and it seemed the Sage was about to ascend with the moonlight."

As she spoke, Xiao Sagezhi dropped to her knees with a thud, and a dazzling light suddenly shot from her eyes. She looked as though she had seen a deity. Her expression, so different from her usual timidity and reserve, suddenly turned intensely fervent.

"This slave understands now. This slave understands. The Supreme Heaven was surely about to go listen to the Buddha expound the Dharma. This slave deserves death ten thousand times over — ten thousand deaths — for daring to cry out and disturb the sacred presence!"

Thud! Thud!

Following Xiao Sagezhi's kneeling, the several eunuchs and serving women in the room, as well as Aluozhe and the other guards from the Moxi and Jinshan tribes at the door, all knelt as well.

Among them, Aluozhe looked so remorseful and anguished that he seemed on the verge of taking his own life. He kowtowed loudly at the doorway, sobbing.

"Your servant deserves death ten thousand times over! Ten thousand deaths!"

Before long, the sound of chanting sutras rose within the room — and what they chanted was the "Supreme Heaven Great Wisdom Sutra of Debating the True Dharma Before All Gods," composed especially for the steppe tribes.

Zhang Zhao had once urged eminent Buddhist monks of Anxi, Hexi, and parts of Qingtang to divide the world into the Five Dharma Lands.

The steppe corresponded to the Land of Response, which was to be protected by the Supreme Heaven Great Wisdom Dharma King.

This Supreme Heaven Great Wisdom Sutra of Debating the True Dharma Before All Gods was the principal scripture of the Land of Response.

Yet at such a solemn and reverent occasion, with a crowd kneeling and chanting Buddhist sutras, Sage Zhang was absolutely furious.

He was certain that too many memories from the later age had just surged forth at once, causing his brain, for some reason, to crash.

Good heavens — this was the damn second floor. If he had stepped out that window and landed badly, headfirst, he would truly have gone to listen to the Buddha expound the Dharma.

With so many people present, it was Xiao Sagezhi — a Khitan empress who had only just been captured — who cried out. Not one of his own eunuchs, palace servants, or guards had thought to rouse Zhang Zhao.

Is this how you protect your Emperor?

Zhang Zhao silently noted this down. In the future, the serving women and eunuchs could not all be simpletons from the steppe or the highlands; he would have to add a few Han people with greater immunity to gods and Buddhas.

"I am now a man, not a god or Buddha!" Zhang Zhao said through gritted teeth, looking at the utterly devout Aluozhe.

This whole act of posing as a deity was something he himself had devised, so now, swallowing his bitterness, he could only say he was now a man — he could not say he was merely a man.

Aluozhe raised his head with extraordinary piety, his face streaked with tears. "This disciple understands. The Supreme Heaven gave up the carefree life of an immortal and descended to the mortal world to save us from suffering.

You are now a man, and after your passing, you will return to the Ninth Heaven and once more become the Supreme Heaven Wheel-Turning Holy Dharma King."

Fine, you're right. Zhang Zhao did not know what else to say.

"This disciple disturbed the sacred presence's ascension. I beg the Supreme Heaven to punish me!" Aluozhe clearly had not recovered; he kept kowtowing and confessing, and the group of tribal princes kneeling with him outside the hall likewise kowtowed in unison, begging for punishment.

Zhang Zhao again said through gritted teeth, "I will say it once more: I am now a man."

"Your servants acknowledge our error. We beg the Sage to punish us!" Aluozhe and the band of steppe simpletons finally understood, and immediately corrected themselves.

"Very well. I pardon you. You may withdraw." Helpless, Zhang Zhao stepped forward, placed his hand on Aluozhe's head, and said in a low voice.

If he did not do this, Aluozhe, who looked about to explode with remorse, might kowtow himself to death.

Zhang Zhao felt somewhat agitated. Hexi Buddhism was now called the Five Dharma School, a name derived from the Five Dharma Lands of Hexi Buddhism. Its scriptures and its interpretations of the original Buddhist teachings had already diverged greatly from Central Plains Buddhism.

The Hexi Five Dharma School had now become a strange religion that even Zhang Zhao himself could not fully explain.

Buddhism, after its collision with Chinese thought, whether saving others or saving oneself, had always emphasized that the Buddha saves those with karmic affinity; and after achieving self-perfection, it carried an air of transcendence.

But Hexi Buddhism did not abstain from meat or alcohol. Whether you had karmic affinity or not, its opening line was always: "This humble monk shall convert you!"

Only those who believed in my Buddha were qualified to be saved by him, to have the Vajra Seed planted within them, and finally to attain Great Perfection. Those who did not believe would certainly have to undergo a physical conversion.

This thing — aggressive on the outside, yet inwardly preaching conversion, the severing of afflictions, and the attainment of perfect wisdom — seemed at the same time very peaceful, with that strong Chinese cultural sense of meritorious fulfillment.

All of this, combined with the divinity upon Zhang Zhao himself, was spreading at tremendous speed through Hexi, Anxi, and the steppe, and it filled him with deep unease. He did not know what this thing he had concocted would ultimately become.

Would the "Great Compassionate Gatling Bodhisattva, three thousand six hundred rounds in a single breath" become real?

In his heart, Sage Zhang was still Zhang Chao from the later age, a man with a certain disdain for and wariness of religion, so he could not help feeling somewhat worried.

Amid his agitation and unease, Zhang Zhao's gaze fell upon Xiao Sagezhi, who was swaying her pert rear as she walked slowly past him.

That water-snake waist twisted with a magical, rippling undulation, truly like a beautiful serpent gliding through water.

Zhang Zhao reached out from behind and grabbed this feverish water snake. Mm, the temperature was indeed a little high.

Xiao Sagezhi turned her head to look back at Zhang Zhao, her eyes blazing with heat, and in the faint fragrance, there was nothing but the scent of hormones.

Sage Zhang's hand slowly slid downward. The beautiful snake swayed, trembling faintly; beneath the slightly rough friction of the white hemp cloth, there was nothing but full, quivering abundance.

Xiao Sagezhi reached back and wrapped her arms around Zhang Zhao, her legs coiling around him as she clung to him like a koala.

Delicate yet vigorous — sure enough, a northern beauty like this, who looked like a woman from the Jiangnan circuit, was the finest of all.

When he woke in the morning, the Khitan empress's two long, slender legs were wrapped tightly around Zhang Zhao's right leg beneath the quilt, her hair tickling Sage Zhang's chest — gentle and tender.

Zhang Zhao sighed with satisfaction. All his agitation, all those memories, vanished in an instant. So this thing really could quench the fire.

Hearing Zhang Zhao's sigh, Xiao Sagezhi immediately woke. The Khitan people devoutly believed in Buddhism, and after their annexation of Balhae, their faith had become unstoppable.

Yet, as it happened, the Buddhism that had been adapted through Han Chinese culture was not, in fact, very well suited to the Khitan people.

Steppe fishing-and-hunting peoples, living in a harsh environment, preferred this kind of Buddhism like the Hexi Five Dharma School — overbearing toward outsiders, but inwardly devoted to fatalism and spiritual refuge.

So in the Central Plains, the Hexi Five Dharma School was believed only by the Tuyuhun and some genuine and fake the the Shatuo, while on the steppe it spread rapidly from the various Zubu tribes and soon reached the Khitan.

After witnessing last night's "miracle," Xiao Sagezhi was utterly submissive to Zhang Zhao. She fully believed that Zhang Zhao was the Supreme One descended to the mortal world, the Buddha's last personal disciple, the living embodiment of True Self Great Perfection in this world.

Now, hearing Zhang Zhao's sigh as he woke, she immediately and obediently sat up, her face full of awe.

"Does the Dharma King wish to rise? Please allow this slave to attend you."

Xiao Sagezhi knelt on the bed, her glossy black hair falling softly over her snow-white shoulders, wearing not a stitch of clothing.

"From now on, just call me the Sage — no need for 'Dharma King'!" Zhang Zhao smiled faintly. Since you offered to attend me, very well then!

Sage Zhang glanced at Xiao Sagezhi, then pillowed his hands behind his head and quickly settled into position.

Xiao Sagezhi's cheeks flushed. She was no innocent, and understood instantly.

Excitement quickly replaced shyness. Once this slave has taken the essence of the Supreme Turning Wheel Dharma King, day and night, after a hundred years, might she not shed this mortal shell and attain Great Freedom and Perfection?

After a second round, Zhang Zhao felt thoroughly refreshed. What was there to overthink? Could electric lights and computers compare to the supreme pleasure of a Khitan empress lying submissive, yielding to his every desire?

Zhang Zhao had thought it through — and Murong Xinzhang had thought it through too.

Only Zhang Zhao had thought it through after experiencing it physically, while his good son had thought it through after deep, agonized contemplation.

Do not assume that being enfeoffed in Japan, sent to rule five million people, is a good assignment.

Whether it could even be conquered aside, it is like this: in a later age, you are the top official in the capital, and even the Three Mas must treat you with utmost deference — then suddenly an order arrives transferring you to be prime minister of Cambodia. Would you be willing?

Even though you'd been promoted to head of a nation, you'd probably feel like killing yourself.

That was exactly how Murong Xinzhang felt. Japan might be large, but compared to the Middle Kingdom, it was no different from a wilderness. In his understanding, even the steppes north of the desert were better than Japan.

Of course, in reality the northern steppe could not compare to Japan. The Kanto region of the Wa people was quite fertile. Move over a hundred thousand Han settlers, raise productivity, and yoshi — it would quickly become a paradise on earth!

But Murong Xinzhang did not know this. He had thought it through in a tragic, heroic frame of mind: "If I do not enter hell, who will?" — vowing to win Japan for his good father Sage Zhang and eliminate this grave hidden threat.

Though Murong Xinzhang also did not know what qualifications this poor, wretched Japan had to be a grave hidden threat to the Middle Kingdom.

"My son, come quickly! This is what I have devised for you — a move to stabilize the written language of Japan."

Zhang Zhao beckoned Murong Xinzhang over and pointed to some baffling characters written on a sheet of xuan paper for him to see.

Murong Xinzhang stared at those ghost-drawn marks like よァっ with utter confusion, having no idea what they were.

Of course he did not know, because these things were the kana of the later-era devils. But if you think Zhang Zhao was trying to invent kana ahead of time, you would be wrong — because the appearance of kana would certainly weaken the status of Chinese in Japan.

So what Zhang Zhao had produced was not kana. He had borrowed the shapes of kana — or rather, a few characters he had scribbled at random himself — to use them as a Chinese phonetic alphabet.

For example, Sage Zhang could now stipulate that the sound of っ be the Chinese pinyin "a," and よ be the Chinese pinyin "b."

By this example, once twenty-four letters were assembled, plus tones, initials, and finals, a Chinese phonetic system made of ghost-drawn marks would be complete. In this era, it could also be directly called Chinese Instruction Phonetics.

In truth, throughout Chinese history, the greatest obstacle to fully assimilating Japan, Korea, and Jiaozhi had always been language and script.

First of all, it was hard enough for Han people themselves to learn Chinese. The self-sound method and the read-alike method of phonetic notation were practically bottomless pits, like a joke.

The fanqie system required too large a vocabulary. Never mind commoners — even ordinary scholars had to study it intensively.

And when it came to Japan, Korea, and Jiaozhi, whose word order and pronunciation differed greatly from the Middle Kingdom, it was even more troublesome.

Although Chinese characters were the official script of their countries, they could not sink down to ordinary people — they could not even reach the middle strata. Only the uppermost stratum could use them, leaving them floating entirely in the air.

Moreover, those unfortunate uppermost strata were often people who had fled from the Central Plains. This was less the case in Japan, but on the peninsula and in Jiaozhi, more than half were such people.

These Han people who had fled abroad seized local power, and in order to monopolize the power of reading and writing, they would never let Chinese characters sink downward.

This caused the crucial matter of spreading Chinese characters to remain unsolved for over a thousand years.

The longer it dragged on, the more productive forces developed, the more local clever people multiplied. The Han exiles who had not shared in power grew resentful, and rulers who had been sidelined by officials wielding writing grew dissatisfied — so they would create a host of substitutes to win over the lower classes, both to seize power and to make ruling easier.

The peninsula's hangul, Japan's kana, and Vietnam's chu nom were all the bitter fruits born of delaying the simplified spread of Chinese for too long.

If you cannot settle language and script, everything else is naturally out of the question.

Look at how the Gauls colonized Vietnam. Apart from superior ships and guns, the greatest reason was that as early as 1651 — the seventh year after the Chongzhen Emperor hanged himself, when Prince Li of Jin and Zheng Guoxing were still raising wave after wave of anti-Qing fervor — the French missionary Alexandre de Rhodes had already compiled the Vietnamese-Portuguese-Latin Dictionary, which made it easier for Vietnamese to learn to read and spell.

After that, it swiftly defeated chu nom and spread throughout Vietnam, later becoming Vietnam's official script — that strange Vietnamese romanized writing we see today.

To be sure, moving Chinese pinyin into this era would not be without problems.

At the very least, Zhang Zhao felt that at least twenty percent of China's ancient pronunciations, thirty percent of Japanese, and over ten percent of chu nom could not be accurately pronounced with those twenty-four letters.

But it could be revised! Zhang Zhao had already pointed out the direction. With so many scholars in this era, could they fail to produce a phonetic system suited to the times? Impossible!

Even if it could not be revised, if some Wa person dared to raise doubts, his conscience must be greatly and utterly rotten.

Immediately, a seven-chi official stalwart from the Hengshan region of Yulin, Shaanxi, who had crossed east to Japan, would draw his hengdao saber and cleave that bumpkin dwarf in two with one stroke.

With one hand pressing down with a great army, and the other using the phonetic system to simplify Chinese — spreading it at least into the middle strata, rapidly unifying the Chinese of Japan, Korea, and Vietnam through phonetics — could they still escape?

Though the time required would inevitably be long. If a hundred years would not do, how about three hundred?

Even if it took five hundred years, that would only reach 1447 — before my Fortress Sovereign had gone to study abroad among the Oirat and changed his name to Choros. Ride-Me. Pig, no?

There is plenty of time!

Murong Xinzhang was an extremely intelligent man. The more he listened, the brighter his eyes grew. Suddenly he turned to look at Zhang Zhao.

"My lord, why don't we call off the attack on Japan, and use these men and resources to spread Instruction Phonetics to Anxi, Lingnan, and the northern frontier? That would be an achievement for ten thousand generations!"

Oh no! It seems I pushed too hard.

Zhang Zhao gave a dry cough, looked at Murong Xinzhang, and said: "My son, do not concern yourself with the domestic promotion of Instruction Phonetics. I have it in hand. Moreover, this phonetic system is only the first of two things. I have a second."

"There is a second?" Murong Xinzhang looked at Zhang Zhao in astonishment. If the first was already this extraordinary, what could the second be?

Zhang Zhao looked at Murong Xinzhang with a somewhat odd expression. "The second is that I am adding yet another dharma title.

Last night, I roamed the Grand Void in spirit and beheld all the gods and Buddhas of heaven and the ancient sages. The August Emperor of Heaven pointed to the glittering stars in the east and indicated to me, saying: 'It is permitted!' The Buddha also smiled in assent."

Having laboriously uttered this passage of goosebump-inducing "nonsense," Zhang Zhao's expression grew even stranger.

"The Lord on High and the Buddha together bestowed upon me a dharma body, called 'Supreme Amaterasu Great God!'

Besides this great dharma body, there is also a lesser dharma body, called 'Amaterasu Manifest Great Unity All-Dharma Divine-Buddha Incarnation,' which is manifested precisely in my son. From now on, you are the Great King of Amaterasu! Great King of Amaterasu of the Great Yan Kingdom East of the Sea."

"This..." Even with Murong Xinzhang's intelligence, he had not expected Zhang Zhao to say such things. Imperial Father, were you not rolling in bed with the Khitan empress last night? Where did you go to meet the August Emperor of Heaven and the Buddha?

In his extreme shock, Murong Xinzhang was momentarily tongue-tied, unsure what to do.

But at that very moment, the palace attendants, inner servants, and guards who had seen last night how his supreme Wheel-Turning Dharma King was about to shatter the void and ascend, immediately knelt.

The crowd suddenly understood, wishing they could rush about telling one another: I said last night the Sage was going to tread through the void to hear the Buddha expound the scriptures, and you didn't believe me — see, it was exactly so!

Instantly, countless gazes of envy, jealousy, and resentment fell upon Xiao Sagezhi, who was likewise kneeling at the doorway. How much favor had this woman received last night? She had truly profited greatly.

Xiao Sagezhi trembled with excitement, unable to stop herself from touching her lower belly. If she could conceive a pearl in the womb, would she not be able to bear a son of the Buddha?

The solemn sound of chanting sutras arose. Murong Xinzhang raised his eyes, and in the vast, hazy smoke of the incense, this imperial father of his truly appeared as towering as a deity. He could not help but prostrate himself.

"The Buddhist schools of Goryeo and Wa have strayed onto the wrong path, and so their common people have been seized upon by demons and evil.

We command you to lead the twelve demon kings of heaven and raise a million dharma-protecting heavenly soldiers, to sweep away the evil miasma, deliver a sharp blow to the Buddhist schools of those two lands, and return the lands of the true Dharma to orthodoxy!"

Zhang Zhao's voice seemed to drift down from the highest heavens. Murong Xinzhang pressed his forehead to the ground. "Your son, respectfully obeys the dharma decree!"

Having said all this, Zhang Zhao sighed deeply in his heart. Damn it, ruined! All ruined! He had finally become a standard feudal emperor, and putting on mystical airs no longer burdened his conscience in the slightest. He wondered whether his descendants would be influenced by today and produce a bunch of charlatans.

But there was no helping it! To thoroughly control Japan and Korea, relying on Confucian classics alone was still too thin.

Those bastards on the peninsula loved nothing more than founding damn cults, and the devils on the islands loved even more to play with things even more mystical and occult.

Not to mention that at this time the Buddhist establishment in Wa was especially powerful, and that so-called dogshit emperor had also piled a heap of divinity onto himself.

If he didn't play a big hand, Zhang Zhao feared that the people Murong Xinzhang brought with him would be assimilated by them, or would be attacked by them all at once.

So he might as well fight a "holy war" against you right now! Give you a conquest by force, with unified script and pronunciation and religious correction.

Moreover, at this moment the native Shinto of Wa was being suppressed and barely holding on. It was the perfect time to use the Hexi Five Dharma Sect — no, it should be the Six Dharma Sect — to swallow up Wa's early Shinto, lest it later stimulate the sprouting of their nationalism.

This whole chain of moves should be enough to take them down smoothly!

Murong Xinzhang, on the ground, was moved to tears. He felt that this was Zhang Zhao paving the way for him, his son — not even avoiding the identity of a divine Buddha that he was ordinarily unwilling to bring up in the Central Plains, and even describing the common people of Goryeo and Wa as having been seized by demons and evil.

Then when he, Murong Xinzhang, killed his way there, he would be killing demons, not people. Even if he slaughtered a million, he would not gain the title of "butcher of men" like Lord Wu'an, Bai Qi, nor damage the hidden virtue of his descendants.

Do you think Murong Xinzhang did not believe in Buddhism? How could that be! There was no Tuyuhun who did not believe in Buddhism, and from now on, the boy Xinzhang believed even more.

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