Ya She

Chapter 17 The Wordless Stele

Lu Zigang stood at the entrance of the Silent Shop, staring blankly at the ancient plaque above his head for a while before hesitating for a long time before pushing open the heavy door.

Actually, he stumbled upon this antique shop by chance while traveling in Hangzhou two years ago. He only glanced at it and felt a sense of familiarity, but he could swear he had never been here before.

But whenever he encountered a perplexing mystery about an antique, he would think of this place. This time was no exception. After returning to Beijing from a business trip to Xi'an, he found no one who could solve his puzzle, so he immediately took a plane to this city.

The ornately carved doors swung open with a click, and Lu Zigang stared blankly at the shop's layout. Every time he came here, he felt there was something wrong with the arrangement. For example, that Song Dynasty celadon plate shouldn't be there; it should be somewhere else. There shouldn't be only two Changxin Palace lanterns; he remembered there should be two more inside, not just at the entrance. And what about that gilded dragon-subduing Boshan incense burner? Why was there a crack? And when did that terracotta figure standing at the entrance, so similar to Qin Shi Huang's terracotta warriors yet completely different, appear?
A jumble of thoughts exploded in Lu Zigang's mind, making him momentarily dazed. He blurted out, "Why has this shop become so small?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it. The antique shop had never moved, so why did he always feel that it was too cramped?
"Housing prices are too expensive!" A clear laugh rang out.

"Yeah, these days, housing prices are just maddening! A month's salary, even if you don't eat or drink, can't even buy one square meter!" Lu Zigang's resentful, youthful cynicism immediately took hold, and he nodded in agreement, but then suddenly froze. Who is this shopkeeper trying to fool? With his perspective as an intern researcher at the National Museum, any antique from this shop could buy a luxurious storefront in the best location in Hangzhou. So the only reason this antique shop is crammed into this small, inconspicuous commercial street is that the owner doesn't actually want to sell antiques.

Lu Zigang turned his head at the sound and saw that the boss was not wearing his usual old-fashioned Zhongshan suit, but had changed into a very fashionable black shirt. This black shirt had deep red cloud-patterned trim on the cuffs and hem, blending classic and modern styles, making it quite unique. And like the original Zhongshan suit, it was also embroidered with a lifelike red dragon, its head resting on the boss's right shoulder, the dragon coiling along its back, giving the entire shirt a luxurious feel.

"Why the change of style? Your old Zhongshan suit was really nice!" Lu Zigang frowned, blurting out without thinking, "The Zhongshan suit blends modern and ancient elements, and it also has various meanings! For example, the four pockets on the front represent propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame. Oh, right, I remember your old one didn't have pockets. But it doesn't matter, the five buttons on the placket, unlike the Western separation of powers (three branches), represent the executive, legislative, judicial, examination, and oversight branches. The three buttons on the cuffs represent the Three Principles of the People: nationalism, democracy, and civil rights." "People's livelihood. The unbroken back symbolizes the great cause of national peace and reunification. How traditional and meaningful! The Zhongshan suit is far superior to those so-called Hanfu and Tang suits of today! To be honest, while Hanfu is beautiful, it's ultimately long-sleeved and inconvenient for movement. And although the Tang suit has the word 'Tang' in it, it evolved from the Qing Dynasty's mandarin jacket and cannot represent our great China." Lu Zigang's voice abruptly stopped, because he realized he had fallen into his habit again. He awkwardly scratched his head and said, "Sorry, I can't help but compare modern things with things from the past. Maybe it's an occupational hazard."

The shop owner smiled tolerantly, took two Ge ware celadon bowls from the counter, boiled a kettle of water, and brewed two cups of tea.

"Mr. Lu seems to have come here a few times. Did you pass the exam last year?"

Lu Zigang was delighted to see that the shopkeeper remembered him, and said with a smile, "I'm now an intern researcher at the National Museum." He picked up the pale celadon covered bowl, couldn't help but examine it closely, and after confirming that it was indeed an antique from the Ge kiln of the late Song Dynasty, he didn't say anything. Lu Zigang first held the teacup with his left hand, gently pinched the lid of the covered bowl, smelled the rich aroma of tea, then took a sip of the clear tea, and squinted his eyes in enjoyment, saying, "One bud and one leaf just unfurling, flat and smooth, it's actually a special pre-Qingming Longjing tea. I'm truly fortunate to have such a delicious meal today."

The shopkeeper smiled and took a sip. Of all these people, Lu Zigang was the one he liked best. Perhaps it was because Lu Zigang had grown up in the Silent House in a past life, that they got along so well. None of the people around him now seemed to enjoy Lu Zigang's relaxed and contented manner. The doctor, of course, didn't understand these things and just gulped it down. The curator did know about tea, but he was extremely careful with antiques; making him drink tea from a late Song Dynasty Ge ware gaiwan would probably be more uncomfortable than having his throat choked. As for the painter, he was completely focused on painting and had no interest in anything else. The master was probably more interested in how much the gaiwan could fetch.
The two of them held a bowl of tea and sipped it slowly. A tranquil atmosphere filled the silent room, intoxicatingly sweet.

Lu Zigang savored the aroma of the tea on his lips and teeth, feeling an incredible sense of peace, as if this scene had been repeated hundreds or thousands of times in his life, so familiar it was almost unbelievable. He couldn't fathom the person before him. At first glance, he appeared to be an ordinary-looking young man, but the more he looked, the more he seemed like an ancient artifact buried deep underground. Once the dust was brushed away and the superficiality washed away, a unique charm would emerge. Thinking this way, when he looked at the man again, he discovered that behind the wispy aroma and warmth of the tea, both his eyes and brows exuded a sense of time's passage, truly captivating.

It wasn't until he finished his tea and the owner refilled his water that Lu Zigang came to his senses, remembered his purpose, and quickly opened the backpack on his back.

“Boss, I went to Xi’an a while ago and received this item from someone. You are knowledgeable, can you tell me where this item comes from?” Lu Zigang said as he handed over the palm-sized stone in his hand.

This is a piece of stone with a greasy yellow hue, its surface subtly revealing fine, radish-like veins, the color fading gradually from the outside in. The stone is carved into a miniature stele, the top of which bears no inscription, but rather eight exquisitely carved dragons, intricately intertwined, their scales clearly defined, their sinews exposed, lifelike. On either side of the stele are depictions of ascending dragons, each a colossal dragon soaring through the air, the carving exquisitely skillful, the dragons seemingly taking flight. Unfortunately, this is only the upper half of the stele; it has been severed in the middle by a sharp blade, exposing the cross-section of the stone.

“This should be a Tianhuang stone worth ‘three taels of gold for every tael of Tianhuang,’ but as the saying goes, ‘gold is easy to obtain, but Tianhuang is hard to find.’ According to the current market price, it should be worth three taels of gold for every tael of Tianhuang, an undeniably astronomical price.” Lu Zigang paused, then continued, “However, what’s special about this stone tablet isn’t the material, but the carving style.”

The boss looked up and exchanged a glance with Lu Zigang. They both saw the answer in each other's eyes and said in unison, "The wordless stele."

There have been many wordless steles in Chinese history, but the most famous is the one at the Qianling Mausoleum in Lishan. It is the only wordless stele erected in front of the mausoleum of Wu Zetian, the only female emperor in history. The unique decoration on the top of the stele and the blank surface immediately make its meaning clear.

The shopkeeper didn't ask who Lu Zigang had obtained the item from, but instead handed the inscription back to Lu Zigang and turned to go into the inner room.

Lu Zigang was tasting the finest pre-Qingming Longjing tea, but he couldn't taste it.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the owner came out, holding a palm-sized brocade box. "This is a stone carving I acquired many years ago, and I've never known its origin."

Lu Zigang's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly peered into the brocade box. There lay a stone carving of the same quality as the one in his hand, its dragon carving identical. "It seems to be modeled after the wordless stele of Qianling Mausoleum, but this piece doesn't appear to be a recent work; it looks quite old." Shoushan stone carvings are notoriously difficult to date because carbon-14 dating only detects organic matter, so the dating relies on the carving style. In contrast, dating jade is simpler. Not only is the carving style important, but jade also often exhibits unique inclusions that seep into it, creating various types of jade inclusions. Shoushan stone rarely shows these special variations. Therefore, after Lu Zigang returned to Beijing with this half-carved stele, he had many people examine it, all agreeing that while the material was of high quality, the carving was modern.

This is understandable, as Shoushan stone only became popular after the Song Dynasty, and its collection reached its peak much later, during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. But Lu Zigang always felt something was amiss. Who would be so bored as to use such a fine material as Tianhuang stone to carve a blank stele? So he made a special trip to Ya She.

After closing his eyes and thinking for a while, the boss opened his eyes and said calmly, "The earliest Shoushan stone carvings can be found in the stone figurines of the Southern Dynasties, but the carving is rough. Apart from being used as funerary objects, there are no examples of them being collected."

The shopkeeper sighed softly and said, "After I acquired this lower half of the stone carving, I always felt it resembled a memorial tablet."

Lu Zigang felt a chill run down his spine. Any stone with inscriptions could become a stele. In fact, a stele without inscriptions was an absolute defy of nature, and quite fitting for Wu Zetian, the only female emperor in Chinese history.

But the blank stele made of Tianhuang stone in his hand was interesting. If it was indeed a funerary tablet, then it meant that it was a funerary object stolen from Qianling Mausoleum. However, according to historical records and various surveys, Qianling Mausoleum had never been robbed. Lu Zigang was puzzled and couldn't help but take the half of the stone carving from the brocade box into his left hand. He put the two half of the blank stele in his hands together, and the cross-sections fit together perfectly, as if they had never been cracked.

Lu Zigang leaned closer to take a closer look and found that he couldn't look away. The patch of yellow light in his vision suddenly expanded several times over, but he couldn't move his body even an inch. He was completely swallowed up by that moist yellow light.
·2·
"Zhi Cong! Zhi Cong! Zhi Cong, don't die!"

Lu Zigang was awakened from the darkness by a woman's cries. He opened his eyes groggily and saw a little girl lying on top of him, tears streaming down her face. The girl looked to be three or four years old, with delicate features and skin as smooth as jade. Although young, she was already a beautiful young woman. However, what shocked Lu Zigang was not the girl's appearance, but her clothing.

Narrow-sleeved tunics were a popular style of clothing during the late Sui and early Tang dynasties. The popularity of narrow-sleeved tunics during the Sui and Tang periods wasn't due to cost-effectiveness, but rather because they were convenient for horseback riding and recreational activities, making them a favorite among women. Lu Zigang was very knowledgeable about ancient artifacts, so he could discern clues simply from the woman's clothing. He glanced at the various ornaments and makeup on the girl and marveled at them.

The makeup on this young girl's face was unlike the monotonous makeup seen in modern films and television dramas; it was the "moth-wing eyebrows" popular in the early Tang Dynasty. Her eyebrows were drawn wide and short, shaped like moth wings, and were painted with copper patina. Copper patina, also known as verdigris, was scraped from bronzeware and was a common eyebrow-drawing agent. Therefore, the girl's eyebrows were a striking dark green, which would seem very strange to modern eyes, but it was indeed a popular makeup style in the early Tang Dynasty. Lu Zigang could even deduce from these eyebrows alone that the girl's background was not good, yet her clothing was quite luxurious, something an ordinary family couldn't afford—truly peculiar.

Which TV series or movie is this? The costumes are so meticulously prepared! Even the makeup is spot-on. Although the clothes are a bit too luxurious and don't quite match the simple makeup, it's still quite remarkable.

However, this thought only flashed through Lu Zigang's mind for a moment before he quickly dismissed it. Because he wasn't watching a play, he was acting. But he had no recollection of how he ended up here; wasn't he peacefully having tea with the owner at the Silent Shop? Then it seemed they confirmed that the Tianhuang stone carving was a miniature version of the wordless stele.
While Lu Zigang was still dizzy and disoriented, he was horrified to find that he couldn't move at all. Not only could he not move, but he also couldn't feel anything. He could only stare wide-eyed in fear as he listened to the little girl sobbing, "Zhi Cong, I know you want to marry me, but after my father passed away two years ago, my two half-brothers have been constantly mocking and ridiculing my mother and me. Although I can marry you and escape that cage, what about my mother? I have no choice but to try my luck in the palace."

From the little girl's cries, Lu Zigang pieced together a story—the coldness of human nature exposed by the inheritance after the death of the head of the family. It was practically a Cinderella story, but there were no fairy maidens and pumpkin carriages, no glass slippers and magic. Yet, this little girl was still determined to enter the palace and fulfill her dream. It turned out that the clothes and makeup were real. In her early years, the little girl had been pampered by her father and naturally had several beautiful clothes to wear, but now she couldn't afford the expensive rouge and powder of Jiangnan. She could only learn from ordinary women, casually applying makeup like copper ink scraped from behind a bronze mirror.

It's so realistic, there's not a single flaw in any of the details.

Lu Zigang watched as "his" hand trembled as it was raised, the small, thin palm stained with blood. This was not his own body at all.

Lu Zigang's convulsing brain finally calmed down, and he deduced that he must have encountered some inexplicable phenomenon and seen something that happened more than a thousand years ago.

Isn't this what a mirage is like? But what he encountered was clearly even stranger than a mirage; he not only saw clear images but also heard clear conversations. He heard his own body speaking intermittently, and only then did he understand how this situation had arisen.

It turned out that Zhi Cong had arranged to meet the little girl in the mountains, hoping to dissuade her from entering the palace to serve the emperor. However, the two got into an argument, and it's unclear whether the little girl accidentally pushed him off the cliff or he slipped and fell. In any case, in such a place, no one would hear his cries for help, and expecting this little girl, who looked no older than a middle school student, to carry him out was simply impossible.

Lu Zigang thought to himself, "Modern technology is so much better. If I just take out my phone and call 110 or 120, with China Mobile and China Unicom's global coverage, there will never be a situation where I can't get help from anyone."

Lu Zigang could only see what Zhi Cong saw and hear what Zhi Cong heard; he could do nothing else. So when he felt the scene in his vision becoming increasingly blurry, he knew that Zhi Cong was in poor condition and was probably on his deathbed.

After racking his brains trying to recall if there was anyone in history named Zhi Cong, and finding nothing, Lu Zigang couldn't help but chuckle to himself. This boy was only fifteen or sixteen years old, just the son of an ordinary merchant, and about to die; how could he possibly leave any mark on history?

His vision grew increasingly blurry, and in his daze, Lu Zigang suddenly heard the girl's last words.

"To see the emperor is surely not a blessing in disguise."

Lu Zigang was shocked. This famous saying, this little girl's background, and her age... Could it be that the little girl he just saw was Wu Zetian before she entered the palace?

Time gave him no time to think. His consciousness was once again swallowed by the bright yellow vortex. The last thing he saw was the underage Wu Zetian reaching out to him and slowly covering the eyes of the boy named Zhi Cong.
·3·
This time, the darkness didn't last too long. When Lu Zigang opened his eyes again, he found himself no longer in the desolate wilderness, but in an incredibly understated yet luxurious room.

What is understated luxury? It means that at first glance, the items may seem unremarkable, but upon closer inspection, you will find them to be exquisitely crafted. Every detail is carefully considered, exuding a unique and elegant charm.

When Lu Zigang opened his eyes, his first thought was that he was on a movie set, but then he saw a familiar face.

Lu Zigang had already guessed that the woman was Wu Zetian, and he began to observe her closely. He saw that she was beautiful and captivating, with long, alluring eyes, skin as white as snow, wearing a kimono, her hair styled with a flying phoenix hairpin and adorned with tortoiseshell hairpins, her makeup exquisite. The eyebrow makeup she used was no longer the cheap copper ink, but a deep blue-green ink from the Western Regions, creating elegant, misty eyebrows. She looked to be in her early twenties, no longer the youthful girl she once was; she seemed reborn, radiating confidence and pride, like a rose with thorns.

Ancient Chinese painting emphasized capturing the spirit rather than the form. No one could recreate the true appearance of these historical figures through abstract ancient paintings. Therefore, Lu Zigang didn't even dare to blink, trying his best to imprint this image in his mind.

Everyone knows the saying "Yan's slenderness and Huan's plumpness." "Yan" refers to Zhao Feiyan, who lived during the reign of Emperor Cheng of Han, and "Huan" refers to Yang Guifei, who lived during the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. The Han Dynasty valued slenderness as beauty, while the Tang Dynasty valued plumpness, both of which were rather extreme and exaggerated aesthetic views. Fortunately, in the early Tang Dynasty, the concept of a plump beauty did not yet exist. Wu Zetian was indeed stunningly beautiful, absolutely no less so than people seen on television or idol stars.

As expected of Empress Wu Zetian, judging by her age, she would be only twenty-five or twenty-six now, likely still a concubine of Emperor Taizong of Tang. Lu Zigang clearly remembers that Wu Zetian was made a concubine at the age of fourteen and given the name "Meiniang." Because she was well-read from a young age, proficient in poetry, prose, and calligraphy, she served in the imperial study for thirteen years, holding a position equivalent to Emperor Taizong's confidential secretary. She dealt daily with memorials and official documents, reading books and regulations reserved exclusively for the emperor. It can be said that Emperor Taizong was Wu Zetian's political mentor; without these twelve years of experience, there would be no Empress Wu Zetian.

But what is the situation now?
Lu Zigang discovered that the future Wu Zetian, now Consort Wu, was standing against the wall a few steps away from him, while his current body slumped weakly against the back of a chair. Just like last time, he couldn't control his body; he could only see and hear. Lu Zigang only realized he had possessed a woman's body when he saw a jade-like hand with painted nail polish.

"Heh—heh—" The woman called Shulian, the one possessed by Lu Zigang, let out a weak struggle sound from her throat, clearly having been poisoned and rendered mute by some drug. She could neither make a sound nor stand up to escape.

As Wu Zetian walked towards him step by step, Lu Zigang felt a chill rise from the bottom of his heart. He thought of that unlucky guy named Zhi Cong, who seemed to have been possessed by him a few minutes before he died. Could it be that this Shulian is also going to die soon?

Wu Zetian had no idea that this body had been inhabited by a different soul. She reached out and gently stroked Shulian's cheek, her beautifully curved lips uttering chilling words: "In this palace, it's far too easy for someone to die quietly. I don't want to disappear without a trace, nor do I want to wait here without any future. So, I have no choice but to trouble you, Shulian."

Looking at Wu Zetian up close, Lu Zigang felt even more that she was breathtakingly beautiful.

What secret did Shulian know that made Wu Zetian so determined to poison her?
Lu Zigang suddenly remembered something. In the twentieth year of the Zhenguan era, Emperor Taizong of Tang was already seriously ill, and state affairs were entrusted to Crown Prince Li Zhi. Afterwards, the Crown Prince attended court every other day, serving the emperor his medicinal meals after the morning court session. Wu Zetian, who was in charge of official correspondence, began to interact with Crown Prince Li Zhi, and the two served Emperor Taizong during his illness. The two were of similar age and had daily contact. Li Zhi admired Wu Zetian's political insights, and Wu Zetian wanted to devote her later years to Crown Prince Li Zhi. With mutual affection, it wouldn't be surprising if something happened.

It is thought that this Shulian must be a palace maid in the Imperial Study who accidentally discovered the affair between Li Zhi and Wu Zetian, which led Wu Zetian to take the initiative to poison her.

Lu Zigang understood these things in an instant and couldn't help but sigh. In the Complete Tang Poems, there is a poem written by Wu Zetian called "Ruyi Niang": "Seeing red as green, my thoughts are in turmoil, I am haggard and broken for remembering you. If you don't believe that I have been crying all the time, open the chest and examine the pomegranate skirt."

Judging from this, Zhu Chengbi's dazed thoughts could not possibly have been written for the ailing Emperor Taizong of Tang, Li Shimin; they could only have been written for the current Crown Prince, the future Emperor Gaozong of Tang, Li Zhi. Such a talented and cunning woman—wouldn't she be both lovable and terrifying? Having spent twelve years lying low in the Imperial Study, finally grasping at a sliver of hope, she naturally wouldn't let anyone stand in her way.

As Wu Zetian gazed into Shulian's dying eyes, she seemed to see a glimmer of clarity for a fleeting moment. Just as she was about to take a closer look, Shulian's pupils became unfocused and empty.

It must be her imagination.

Wu Zetian breathed a sigh of relief only after confirming that Shulian had stopped breathing. As she turned to leave as if nothing had happened, she felt a pang of pain from the pair of eyes staring straight at her, and couldn't help but reach out and close Shulian's eyelids.

Lu Zigang was very excited because when he woke up again, he found himself lying in a cradle. From the baby's babbling to the chubby little hand that was being nibbled on, and Zhou Wei's arrangement of things, he was certain that he had possessed the body of Wu Zetian's legendary infant daughter who died in swaddling clothes.

He discovered that he had possessed three people in total. The first two were not recorded in historical books, but the one he was currently possessing was clearly recorded in historical books and even extensively described in unofficial histories. Although neither the Old Book of Tang nor the New Book of Tang recorded the death of the little princess, Sima Guang's Zizhi Tongjian clearly stated that Wu Zetian personally killed her daughter and then framed Empress Wang.

Even tigers don't eat their cubs, so while the story of a mother killing her daughter is horrifying, Wu Zetian's subsequent actions went far beyond that. She indirectly or directly ordered the killing of her brothers, sons, sons-in-law, nieces, nephews, and grandsons. Therefore, in Wu Zetian's mind, exchanging a newborn daughter for the throne of empress was a very worthwhile deal.

Lu Zigang figured out his situation, and his excitement gradually subsided.

After Emperor Taizong's death, Wu Zetian became a nun at Ganye Temple, a puppet chosen by Empress Wang to counter Consort Xiao. Unexpectedly, this seemingly harmless woman stirred up a storm in the palace, even threatening Empress Wang's position. Lu Zigang was even certain that Empress Wang had already visited the little princess, and that Wu Zetian would soon arrive to do something that would be unforgivable.

By calculation, Wu Zetian should have been thirty-two years old. For a woman of that age to still enjoy Emperor Gaozong's exclusive favor amidst a harem overflowing with beauties suggests she employed methods far more sophisticated than most. Lu Zigang reasoned that Wu Zetian must have killed countless people over those thirty years, yet she only possessed these three individuals. This indicated that due to the small, wordless stele, her soul had somehow recreated scenes from the early Tang Dynasty. Each possession lasted only about five minutes, and these three were all personally killed by Wu Zetian; those who died indirectly were excluded.

The shop owner once said that Tianhuang stone didn't become a popular collectible during the Tang Dynasty; from the Northern and Southern Dynasties onward, it was mostly used for burial. Could it be that the wordless stele carried the vengeful spirit of someone killed by Wu Zetian, and he happened to be there, only able to see the images and hear the sounds, experiencing it like watching a movie?

Although no one in the world had ever experienced anything like this except him, Lu Zigang still couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable. Although the two people he had possessed before had no connection to him and had been dead for over a thousand years, he still watched them die. Possessing the bodies of dying people, he couldn't remain indifferent.

Especially since he was currently with a tiny baby who couldn't even sit up. How could Wu Zetian possibly harm such a fragile child?

Lu Zigang actually admired Wu Zetian greatly; perhaps this sense of reverence is deep within many people. Throughout China's five-thousand-year history, Wu Zetian is the only legitimate female emperor to ascend the throne and reign. While there were empresses like Empress Lü and Empress Dowager Cixi who wielded absolute power, they were all driven by personal ambition and disrupted the court. Wu Zetian, however, was a successful politician. She contributed significantly to stabilizing the borders, developing the economy, and suppressing powerful clans, all of which contributed to the rise of the Tang Dynasty. Without her inheritance of Emperor Taizong's political vision and methods, the weak Emperor Gaozong alone could never have established such a foundation. Even Emperor Xuanzong later continued Wu Zetian's achievements. Even the most critical historians only record minor offenses such as Wu Zetian's licentious behavior in the palace and the rampant cruelty of her officials.

But can we tolerate despicable means just for the sake of a beautiful vision?

Lu Zigang knew he was naive. Anyone who plays Go knows that sacrificing stones is a necessary tactic, not only in Go, but also in war, in the court, and in the country.

No one wants to be a pawn. Zhi Cong, if he hadn't been pushed off the cliff by Wu Zetian, might have become a successful businessman, with his own career and family, living a happy life. Shu Lian, if she hadn't been poisoned by Wu Zetian, might have reached marriageable age, escaped the cannibalistic palace, and found a good family to marry into and live a peaceful life. And the little princess he now possessed, if she could grow up safely, might become another Princess Taiping, or a remarkable woman no less extraordinary than her mother. The more Lu Zigang thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt. The feeling of being imprisoned in a strange body grew increasingly bizarre, and he couldn't help but want to break free. At this moment, he could vaguely hear voices outside the hall, knowing that Wu Zetian had probably returned.

Trying to struggle away, Lu Zigang was astonished to find that the infant he was possessing was waving its hands at his will. This was different from the previous two times when he could only see and hear; perhaps the soul within this young body didn't yet have much of its own will, making it easily controlled by Lu Zigang.

But Lu Zigang was still powerless. After all, the baby could barely turn over, so where could he possibly escape to?
A series of clear, melodious sounds rang out, and a graceful and elegant woman appeared before Lu Zigang. She wore a light yellow cloak with silver embellishments and colorful pheasant patterns, a dark blue pheasant-patterned robe with vermilion silk sleeves, her hair styled in a "Wangxian" bun, adorned with nine jade hairpins, and her eyebrows drawn with fine, wispy black ink imported from Persia, which was already the finest eyebrow-drawing material of that era.

Wu Zetian looked more prosperous than before, but her expression was very solemn. When Lu Zigang met Wu Zetian's complicated gaze, he knew that she was having an intense internal struggle about whether to use her daughter to exchange for her future.

However, Wu Zetian clearly didn't have much time to hesitate. Lu Zigang watched as the hand painted with red nail polish reached towards his neck. The scene was like a horror movie in slow motion, causing him to scream reflexively. Of course, his first sound was nothing more than a baby's wailing, which was quickly silenced by Wu Zetian before it could escape his throat.

For the first time, Lu Zigang felt like he was being murdered. Although he had died twice in a sense, he had woken up in a near-death state the first two times. This time, however, he was actually witnessing the scene of "himself" being murdered.

But no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't change this reality. Gradually, his vision blurred, and Lu Zigang stared intently at Wu Zetian, who was so close to him, wanting to imprint this moment in his mind, including the tear that slid down her cheek.

As Wu Zetian watched the tears fall from her eyes and land in the infant's already still pupils, a profound sorrow welled up from the bottom of her heart. She raised her hand to close the child's eyes and burst into tears.

"Someone! Quickly summon the imperial physician!" Lu Zigang was stunned for a long time. The feeling was so real, so real, that he almost doubted whether he had really been murdered by Wu Zetian. But when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry, and it took him a while to realize that he was eating a meat pie with his head down, drops of water falling onto the plate. He stared at it for a moment before realizing that the woman he was possessing was eating and crying at the same time.

Looking up, Lu Zigang saw a blurry reflection in the bronze mirror of the dressing table by the wall. The girl was only a teenager and looked very much like Wu Zetian when she was young, especially the temperament between her brows.

Lu Zigang guessed the girl's identity: Helan, Wu Zetian's niece. Because of Emperor Gaozong's special attention, Wu Zetian considered her a potential threat to the harem, and thus ended her life with a poisoned meat pie at a banquet. Clearly, Wu Zetian herself had given her the meat pie, which is why he had now possessed her body.

Lu Zigang tried to find Wu Zetian discreetly in this hidden room, but to no avail.

Was Wu Zetian not here? Lu Zigang was very disappointed.

Helan only ate two bites of the meat pie before putting it down. Clearly, with her keen intelligence, she knew she had no chance of survival. Wu Zetian was already the Empress, wielding absolute power not only in the palace but also in the court. She could kill whomever she wanted, leaving no room for resistance.

"I have a few words to say, Auntie, but I don't know if you'd be willing to listen," Helan said softly, wiping away her tears.

"Child, speak." A familiar voice rang out, and it was behind Helan that Lu Zigang realized that Wu Zetian had been there all along, but perhaps out of guilt, she had not stood in front of her niece.

"Why..." Helan's words trailed off, but for some reason, she didn't continue. Lu Zigang suddenly felt he could control the girl's fingers. Having experienced possessing the infant before, Lu Zigang tried to continue Helan's sentence, asking, "Why...kill me?"

Wu Zetian didn't notice the suspicious pause in the middle; she always had the utmost patience with those facing death. "Child, you are innocent. If you have to blame someone, blame yourself for being so beautiful, so beautiful that even your uncle wanted you. You may think your aunt is ruthless, but you don't understand. Men are all fickle; the more unattainable something is, the more they want it. Although I am now the Empress, I am completely dependent on your uncle. A single word from him could condemn me to eternal damnation. Therefore, I have no choice but to send you to the Western Paradise to reach the Buddha's Pure Land as soon as possible."

Lu Zigang fell silent. He knew Wu Zetian was right. Empress Wang had been so powerful and influential, yet she was still replaced by Wu Zetian. Lu Zigang waited anxiously for a moment, and when he realized that the girl Helan in this body had lost consciousness and was no longer speaking, he mustered his courage and asked her question through her: "What is it that you seek? To kill even your closest relatives with your own hands."

Wu Zetian noticed that Helan had omitted her form of address, but didn't dwell on it. Standing behind Helan, watching the young woman's graceful figure, she couldn't help but feel melancholy. If her child had survived back then, he would probably be about her age now.
"When I was young, my desire was to prevent my mother from being bullied. When I grew older, it was to avoid dying alone in this palace. Later, it was to be his wife and empress. But now, I am old, while he is in his prime. As the ancients said, 'A wife is a symbol of harmony.' I may have supreme power, managing the harem and even handling state affairs on behalf of the emperor. It may seem glamorous, but I am merely a tool in the emperor's hands. If he dislikes me, he can easily discard me. I can only have more power to ensure my position as empress is secure."

Lu Zigang could feel Wu Zetian's hand stroking Helan's hair, as if reminiscing about something. He subtly sensed that Wu Zetian was actually longing for the infant she had personally killed. It was different; although Wu Zetian later forced her own son to commit suicide, it was because he had become an obstacle on her path to the throne. Furthermore, the older Li Hongzheng, seeing their growing discord, led to a weakening of their mother-son bond, and ultimately Wu Zetian could no longer see him as her son, but rather as a rival.

But the baby in the cradle back then was innocent. No wonder Wu Zetian doted on Princess Taiping, who was born later. To some extent, it was also out of a desire to atone for the mistake made by that baby.

"Is it worth it?" Lu Zigang heard Helan's voice drifting over, a question he had always wanted to ask.

“I have not served my parents well, I am not a good daughter. I have not protected my children well, I am not a good mother. I have not obeyed my husband’s authority to take concubines for him, I am not a good wife. I am truly a lonely widow.” Wu Zetian’s hand, which was resting on her hair, paused, followed by a long sigh that echoed even more desolately in the deep palace. “However, only the one who stands at the highest position can be called a lonely widow.”

Lu Zigang was shocked, never expecting that Wu Zetian already had the idea of ​​usurping the throne.

Wu Zetian composed herself, narrowing her eyes as she began to sense something amiss. Her niece was always gentle and timid; she would never ask such cryptic questions. If the girl had any sense of self-respect, she wouldn't have so easily forced her to eat the poisoned cake. The doubts that had lingered in her mind for years made her increasingly uneasy. Wu Zetian's hand moved down, pressing on Helan's shoulder, forcefully turning her body around, and demanding sharply, "Who are you?"

The sound stopped abruptly when the girl saw Helan's face. The girl, who had collapsed into her arms, had black blood spilling from her lips and was already dead. However, her eyes, washed by tears, were crystal clear and shone with a heart-stopping light.

Wu Zetian was stunned for a moment, filled with questions but unsure who to ask. She could only reach out blankly and slowly close Helan's unwilling eyes. It has long been said that history is like a young girl, dressed differently in the eyes of different people.

The manipulation of power has long permeated the written records of history. Although Chinese characters are known for their straight lines, history has been distorted and deformed within these seemingly orderly characters.

But some things will never change.

Lu Zigang still remembered that he had visited Fengxian Temple in Luoyang a few years ago, where the Vairocana Buddha statue was modeled after Empress Wu Zetian. This Buddha, hailed as the compassionate Buddha who illuminates all, had lost Wu Zetian's charm and majesty, transforming entirely into solemnity and compassion. And today, when he opened his eyes, he felt almost the same urge to prostrate himself in worship as he had felt that day.

But this was not the feeling one gets when seeing a 17-meter-tall Buddha statue; rather, it was the imperial majesty and aura emanating from Wu Zetian herself.

No matter how luxurious her clothes and gowns were, they could no longer catch Lu Zigang's eye. In his view, Wu Zetian, whose hair had turned gray, was at the peak of her life.

Lu Zigang's mind raced. Who had he been transported to this time? He had initially thought that when he opened his eyes again, it might be that unlucky Li Hong. But considering Wu Zetian's advanced age, it seemed she valued her reputation and hadn't personally sent her eldest son to his death. And over the years, she hadn't personally killed anyone.

This is actually quite normal. She is now the most powerful person in the world, the first female emperor in Chinese history. If she wants someone to die, countless people will respond and do it for her. Why should she dirty her own hands?

So, which unlucky soul is he possessing now?

Apart from Wu Zetian, there was no one else in sight. The dark palace was like the interior of some kind of man-eating monster, exuding a nauseating bloody smell. The flickering candlelight reflected off Wu Zetian's face, making it impossible to see her expression.

Lu Zigang only realized the viscous texture in his hand when he felt the slick, sticky substance in the person he was possessing. He discovered that the person had been stabbed in the abdomen, bleeding profusely, and the stench of blood permeating the entire palace was emanating from him. Who could have provoked the Empress to such a violent outburst? Just as he was racking his brains, Lu Zigang suddenly heard Wu Zetian speak first.

"Xue Huaiyi, don't think I really need you. I am already seventy-two years old. Do I still need someone to serve me in bed? You are nothing but a male concubine. Do you really think you are some kind of grand steward or general?" Wu Zetian's voice was old, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

Lu Zigang then realized who he had possessed. Xue Huaiyi was Wu Zetian's first male favorite after she ascended the throne. However, many historians believe that Wu Zetian was already over sixty years old at the time and could not possibly have such needs. She simply wanted to prove to the world that if men could have three palaces, six courtyards, and seventy-two concubines when they became emperors, then women could too.

This is a kind of image project, but Xue Huaiyi has clearly misunderstood it.

Even the most favored concubines would only receive more gold, silver, jewels, and fine silks as rewards, at most extending their blessings to their families. But for men, favor manifested in their official positions. Xue Huaiyi, blinded by wealth and glory, embezzled the national treasury, set fire to the Tianming Hall, and ultimately even Wu Zetian, who had always indulged him, could no longer tolerate him.

Unlike his previous four experiences, this was the first time Lu Zigang felt that the person he was possessing deserved to die. So he couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth and chuckle.

Wu Zetian's eyes sharpened as she stared intently at him, forcing out a single question from her thin lips: "Who are you?"

Lu Zigang was taken aback; he hadn't expected Wu Zetian to see through him. He was momentarily at a loss for words. Should he say he was a traveler from another time? Even he himself didn't believe that!

"I've seen you before." Wu Zetian closed her eyes, as if lost in a long memory. "Were you there before Helan died?"

Lu Zigang looked down at the blood on his chest and abdomen, thinking how fortunate he couldn't feel pain; otherwise, how could he have calmly chatted with the Empress? "Even before that, I was there. Before you strangled that baby, before you poisoned Shulian, before you threw Zhicong to your death."

Wu Zetian's hands twitched. She had only personally killed a handful of people in her life, and the inside story, which only she knew, had recently been revealed to her by this person. This filled her, who had lost all reverence and fear, with immense panic.

If it weren't for a deity, how could they know so clearly?
"Are you here to judge me?" Wu Zetian reopened her eyes, a sharp glint in them despite her slightly drooping gaze. "Then tell me, am I a good person or a bad person?"

Lu Zigang smiled wryly. If only we could simply use words like "good person" or "bad person" to evaluate a person.

"No one can judge me," Wu Zetian stood up from the soft couch, walked to Lu Zigang, and looked down at him with her eyes lowered. "Not even the gods can, not even myself!"

So, was a blank stele erected in front of Qianling Mausoleum after her death?
Was it because the Empress believed that no one in the world was qualified to give her final verdict?
Lu Zigang felt Xue Huaiyi's body slowly slump backward. He tried to open his eyes as wide as possible, wanting to imprint the Empress's last words in his mind.

He knew that after this, he would probably never see her again.

In the gradually blurring vision, the Empress's majestic figure slowly merged with the Vairocana Buddha statue at Fengxian Temple, a symbol of salvation. (Part 4)

When Lu Zigang opened his eyes again, he stared blankly at the Tianhuang stone stele carving that had been pieced together in his hand, unable to come back to his senses for a long time.

These are his hands, his body. But his soul seems to linger in that world a thousand years ago, as if he had just woken from a great dream and was unwilling to wake up.

The aroma of tea lingered by the counter, and steam still rose from the teacups. What would have been a mere blink of an eye for others had already been a part of the Empress's life.

Lu Zigang looked up and saw the shop owner behind the counter still smiling faintly. His deep, narrow black eyes seemed to see through something, but he never revealed it.

“Mr. Lu, this Tianhuang stone stele without inscription should be a funerary object enshrined on Wu Zetian’s memorial tablet in the underground palace of Qianling Mausoleum.” The shopkeeper said calmly while holding his teacup. “Although the official statement is that Qianling has never been robbed, there have been many talented people throughout history, and I’m afraid that Qianling has also been targeted by someone.”

Lu Zigang nodded with difficulty. If it weren't for the miraculous encounter he had just had, he might have disagreed with his boss's statement.

“Since it’s a funerary object, it might bring trouble if it’s left in Mr. Lu’s hands. Why don’t you transfer this half to me so that the blank stele can be restored to its original state?” the shopkeeper suggested sincerely.

Lu Zigang hesitated for a moment. For him, the meaning of this wordless stele was truly different, but he couldn't refute his boss's suggestion. The best outcome would be for the two wordless stele pieces to be carved into one. He really wanted to ask to buy the other half from his boss, but he knew without asking that it would be an exorbitant price, which was simply unaffordable for an intern researcher like himself.

As if reading his mind, the shopkeeper put down his teacup and took out a brocade box from the counter. "It would be too hurtful to talk about the price. I'll exchange it with you for other antiques."

Lu Zigang looked into the brocade box without flinching, but after that first glance, his gaze was fixed on it. Inside the box lay a slender black knife, its blade adorned with peculiar wavy patterns.

A strange sense of familiarity welled up in Lu Zigang's heart, but he swore he had never seen such a knife before in his life.

"Uh, is this a fruit knife?"

"."

Outside the Silent Shop, a man in a hoodie stood in the shadows of the alley, a small red bird, no bigger than a palm, perched on his shoulder, carefully preening its feathers with its sharp beak.

The man was staring intently at the Silent Shop. Through the not-so-transparent carved window, two figures could be vaguely seen.

Not long after, Lu Zigang pushed open the carved door of the Silent Shop and walked out. He stood in the sunlight, took a deep breath for a long time, and then left holding the brocade box.

The man in the hoodie immediately followed in the shadows, his quick movements causing the little red bird to be flung away.

With a few flaps of its wings, the little red bird used its claws to grab a few strands of the man's long hair that were fluttering out from under his hoodie, and landed back on his shoulder with a narrow escape. Tilting its head to look at its master's exposed silver hair, the little red bird carefully tucked the strands of hair back into the hoodie, then chirped a few times with satisfaction.

Master! Please praise me!

Unfortunately, its owner did not pet it as affectionately as before.

After its master emerged from that shimmering, silvery tomb, it seemed to have changed a lot. The little red bird drooped its head, feeling that it was no longer favored.

(End of this chapter)