[Lightscreen]
[Master Xuanzang might actually hold the title of the first person in recorded history to successfully execute the strategy of mastering the barbarians' skills in order to subjugate them.
Following the legendary theological tournament at the city of Kanyakubja, the entire subcontinent bowed to him.
The Mahayana Buddhist sects revered Xuanzang as a divine being who had attained the great righteous path.
They officially crowned him with the supreme title: The Mahayana Deva.
Not to be outdone, the Hinayana Buddhist sects revered him as a divine being who had achieved ultimate liberation.
They crowned him with their own absolute title: The Moksha Deva.
Internally, within the hallowed halls of Nalanda University itself, the faculty universally agreed that Xuanzang had achieved total mastery over the three core pillars of Buddhist scripture. The sutras, the vinaya, and the abhidharma. They bestowed upon him the ultimate academic rank of Tripitaka Master.
Because he was a man of the Tang dynasty, he was famously called Tang Sanzang, to put this massive flex into perspective, in all of India at that time, there were only nine individuals alive who held the rank of Tripitaka Master.
Right before he packed his bags to return east to the Great Tang, Xuanzang's personal mentor, the legendary Tripitaka Master Silabhadra, who was nearly a hundred years old at the time, made a desperate plea. Silabhadra desperately wanted Xuanzang to inherit his position and essentially become the supreme CEO of Nalanda University.
But Xuanzang stubbornly insisted on returning to his homeland. The local Indian monks simply could not comprehend this. They swarmed him, desperately trying to talk him out of it.
The historical record notes their exact arguments. They said, "India is the sacred birthplace of the Buddha. To wander these lands and worship here is enough to satisfy an entire lifetime! Furthermore, that country of China is merely a land of Mlecchas. They are a people who despise the truth and treat the holy Dharma like dirt. Why on earth would you ever want to go back to such a miserable place?"
Their sheer arrogance was crystal clear. India was the divine kingdom of the Buddha. People from all over the world traveled there and begged to stay forever. So why was this supreme genius so eager to leave?
Now, we need some linguistic context here. At that specific time, the term "China" did not carry any negative connotations. The true insult was the word "Mleccha." In ancient Sanskrit, this term translates directly to "barbaric, evil sinners." They were openly calling the Great Tang a savage wasteland that mocked religion and lacked basic human decency.
Xuanzang's response was an absolute masterclass in polite but lethal diplomatic smackdown.
He affirmed the undeniable greatness of India's Buddhist teachings. But he completely rejected their bigoted prejudice against his homeland. He ended his rebuttal with an incredibly poetic, chilling warning.
"Riding side by side on a long journey, the ultimate destination remains completely unknown. How can you simply claim that a land lacks the Buddha, and therefore dismiss it so arrogantly?"
In modern terms, Xuanzang basically told them, "Let us just wait and see who ends up better in the end. Do not get too cocky just because you had a head start."
In the nineteenth year of the Zhenguan era, Xuanzang finally returned home. By this point, his sworn brother, the foolish King of Gaochang, had already been dead for four years after his kingdom was wiped out. Emperor Li Shimin, affectionately known by future internet historians as Erfeng, was currently working extremely hard to manage his newly conquered territories in the Western Regions.
Li Shimin instantly realized the absolute strategic goldmine he had just been handed. He welcomed Xuanzang to Chang'an and immediately issued the monk his very first royal commission. Xuanzang was ordered to write down every single detail of the customs, geography, and politics he had witnessed on his journey.
The result was the legendary text, the Great Tang Records on the Western Regions.
This book was not a religious preachy text. It was a terrifyingly detailed, painstakingly accurate geographical and cultural encyclopedia.
Within its pages, Xuanzang almost never mentioned his own personal feelings or struggles. Every single kingdom, river, mountain pass, and local custom was recorded with absolute, cold, mechanical objectivity. There was zero emotional bias.
The book was officially completed in the year 646 AD. Eleven years later, in 657 AD, the Western Turks, the exact same empire that had originally hosted Xuanzang and sent armed guards to escort him to India, were completely annihilated by the Tang military. The Tang army marched westward and found absolutely zero resistance they could not overcome.
Therefore, it is incredibly reasonable to suspect that the moment Li Shimin got his hands on Xuanzang's book, he laughed like a maniac, handed it straight to the Imperial General Staff, and made it mandatory reading for the entire military high command. It was the ultimate spy dossier.
One of the most fascinating geopolitical details in the book is how Xuanzang categorized the known world. He divided the globe into four supreme domains, each ruled by a distinct Lord.
In the East lies the Kingdom of the Lord of Men. A land where benevolence and righteousness shine brightly, and the customs are dynamic and ever-changing. He was very obviously talking about the Great Tang.
In the South lies the Kingdom of the Lord of Elephants. A land where the people practice mystical arts and seek to clear their minds of mortal burdens. This referred to the Buddhist philosophies of India, which was the entire reason Xuanzang traveled there. He wanted to extract the absolute best of their spiritual culture to enrich the golden age of the Tang.
In the West lies the Kingdom of the Lord of Treasures. A land where the people lack proper etiquette and righteousness. They care only for wealth, trade, and producing massive amounts of precious gems. Geographically and chronologically, this referred to the mighty Persian Empire of the Sassanid Dynasty, founded by Ardashir I, the King of Kings who restored Persian glory in the third century.
In the North lies the Kingdom of the Lord of Horses. A land where the people are brutal and violent. The climate is freezing, incredibly harsh, and perfect for breeding warhorses. This perfectly described the Western Turks, a nation that was completely wiped off the map exactly ten years after Xuanzang returned home
The entire Great Tang Records on the Western Regions was dictated orally by Xuanzang and physically written down by his brilliant disciple, the monk Bianji.
Because of this monumental achievement, Bianji became a massive celebrity overnight. Unfortunately, fame got to his head. He later engaged in a wildly illegal, deeply scandalous affair with Princess Gaoyang, the daughter-in-law of Fang Xuanling.
When Emperor Li Shimin found out, he was so furiously embarrassed that he ordered the monk Bianji to be chopped in half at the waist.
But the ultimate, supreme irony of this entire saga lies in the modern era.
Because the Indian subcontinent suffered through countless violent foreign invasions and conquests over the centuries, their indigenous population completely lost track of their own ancient history.
When modern scholars tried to piece it together, they had nothing. Thus, Xuanzang's Great Tang Records on the Western Regions officially became the absolute, undisputed, most authoritative historical document for studying ancient India.
A century ago, the British colonists who occupied India let out a profound sigh of absolute disbelief.
They stated publicly that the medieval history of India was pitch black, and the Chinese monk Xuanzang was the single, solitary source of light.
Countless ancient Indian ruins, including the holy grail itself, the remains of Nalanda University, were successfully excavated by archaeologists purely because they followed the geographical coordinates written in Xuanzang's book.
Even the modern national emblem of India, the four roaring lions, originates from the stone carvings at the top of the Ashoka Pillar. And how did archaeologists find the buried Ashoka Pillar? By reading Xuanzang's book.
When Master Xuanzang stood in that foreign land surrounded by arrogant monks, he casually dropped the line, "Riding side by side on a long journey, the ultimate outcome is yet unknown."
He probably never imagined that a thousand years later, his words would become the ultimate, literal reality. His book became the only thing keeping their history alive.]
Inside the Ganlu Hall, the atmosphere was incredibly thick.
The Zhenguan ministers stared deeply at the text on the screen, digesting the information about the three distinct types of monks.
The first monk, who had simply refused to return to China during the chaotic, blood-soaked era of the Five Barbarians and Sixteen Kingdoms, was somewhat understandable. It was a terrifying, chaotic era.
Staying in the peaceful, spiritual haven of India just to survive was a practical, albeit cowardly, choice.
But the second monk? The one who actually wrote down a thesis claiming India was the center of the universe while trashing the Great Tang? That completely crossed the line.
"If that traitorous bald donkey claims India is the true center of righteousness, then where does that place our Central Plains?
Where does that place the glorious Huaxia civilization?
He did not just insult the Tang. He spat on every ancestor who built this civilization. That is not heresy.
That is treason.
And the penalty for treason is to have your corpse hung from the city gates for the crows to feast on!"
Wei Zheng was practically shaking with patriotic fury. His voice cracked through the throne room like a thunderclap.
"What does 'righteous' mean?" Wei Zheng snarled, whipping around to glare at his colleagues. "It means the center! The orthodox core! The beating heart of the civilized world! And this monk, this disgrace to the robes he wears, preaches that India holds that title?
That our Huaxia is nothing but a barbaric wasteland on the fringes of their holy land?"
He slammed his fist into his palm.
"He was born here. He ate our grain. He breathed our air. And then he wrote a thesis calling us savages while worshipping a foreign throne. These are the words of a man who has turned his back on his own blood. A rat who gnaws at the foundations of his own house. Execute him?
That is too kind. Let his name rot alongside his treasonous words!"
At this exact moment, Wei Zheng fully understood the modern slang term "Spiritual Indian" that the screen had used earlier. He felt an intense, burning disgust rising from the very bottom of his stomach.
If this monk believed India was so perfect, why the hell did he stay in the Great Tang? The roads to the Western Regions were completely open now. He could pack his bags and run off to his precious Indian paradise just like the ancient sages. Why sit comfortably in the safety of Huaxia just to spit on the dignity of his own nation?
As for the Indian monks referring to the Tang as a land of "Mleccha" savages... that made the military generals clench their fists so hard their knuckles popped.
"These Indians truly do not know the immensity of heaven and earth," a general growled under his breath.
Up on the golden throne, Li Shimin was already in an incredibly foul mood.
His mind was still plagued by the terrifying revelations from the previous broadcast regarding Empress Wu, usurpers, and the potential slaughter of his royal descendants.
Hearing this blatant disrespect from a foreign nation was the exact spark his explosive temper needed.
He slammed his hand down on the armrest.
"A small, insignificant speck of a nation dares to be so arrogantly blind?" Li Shimin's voice started low, almost a whisper, then exploded into a roar that shook the rafters. "They chain their own people like cattle with that grotesque caste system, and they have the audacity to call MY Great Tang a land of savages?!"
He shot up from the throne, pacing like a caged tiger, his boots slamming against the marble.
"The screen just told us they got conquered eleven times! Eleven! What in the nine hells! Rolled over like dogs every single time! And they still strut around calling themselves the center of the universe?!" He whirled around, teeth bared. "No martial prowess. No backbone. No pride. Just a thousand years of kneeling to foreign boots while writing poetry about how holy they are."
He slammed his fist into the armrest, the crack of wood splitting the air.
"Sooner or later, I will personally show those arrogant thats bald donkey exactly what a true savage from the Tang looks like when he kicks down their temple doors!"
Panic rippled through the ministers. They suddenly found themselves in the bizarre position of needing to actively restrain their Emperor's bloodlust.
If Li Shimin kept screaming like this, they were genuinely terrified his chronic migraines would flare up again.
However, deep down in their hearts, every single official in the room felt zero sympathy for India.
The screen's future narrator had already mentioned in a past broadcast that after modern India finally established its own country, they had the stupid audacity to actively provoke modern China at the border. They only behaved themselves after the modern Chinese army absolutely crushed them in a brief war.
Honestly, maybe we should just march over there and conquer them ourselves to save our descendants the trouble, several high-ranking generals thought in perfect, silent agreement.
Regarding Master Xuanzang himself, Li Shimin's evaluation was incredibly simple. He nodded firmly.
"Excellent."
Li Shimin was a deeply pragmatic man. He knew perfectly well that the successful conquest of the Western Regions was a combination of his own brilliant, stubborn strategic decisions and the flawless geographic intelligence freely provided by Xuanzang. He gave credit exactly where credit was due.
Because of this, Li Shimin's tactical mind immediately started spinning. The timeline had shifted. Xuanzang had not left for the West yet.
But when he did, there was absolutely no way the Emperor was letting his greatest future spy wander the deserts alone.
Letting a national treasure travel solo is pure madness, Li Shimin calculated silently. I must dispatch at least ten or twenty elite royal guards to protect him at all times.
But then a new problem popped into his head. How was he supposed to pick the right guards? He did not care much for Buddhism, but he knew for a fact that Buddhist monks were terrifyingly persuasive.
If I send twenty elite Tang soldiers, and they spend five years listening to this monk preach, I might not get twenty spies back. I might just accidentally donate twenty heavily armed, elite Arhats to the local temples. That would be an absolute embarrassment.
While Li Shimin was deep in his logistical military fantasies, Zhangsun Wuji politely cleared his throat, pulling the Emperor back to reality.
Li Shimin blinked and looked down. He instantly noticed his Prime Minister, Fang Xuanling.
The legendary statesman looked like a corpse. His face was entirely devoid of color, completely white as a sheet. Fang Xuanling was staring up at the throne with an expression of pure, unadulterated terror and desperate hope.
Li Shimin glanced back up at the frozen text on the screen. The memory of what had just been casually dropped hit him like a physical blow.
His face twisted as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of live flies.
Li Shimin knew exactly how much he valued Fang Xuanling. Especially after seeing the majestic "Fang the Planner, Du the Decider" statue in the future sleepless city of Chang'an, the Emperor's respect for his right-hand man had multiplied tenfold.
Because he valued the Fang clan so much, Li Shimin had fully intended to marry his absolute favorite, most precious daughter, Princess Gaoyang, to Fang Xuanling's son.
It was supposed to be the ultimate royal honor, a permanent alliance between the throne and the bureaucracy.
And yet, the future history had just bluntly stated that his precious daughter would end up having a sordid, scandalous affair with a bald monk, resulting in the monk getting chopped in half and the Fang clan being horribly humiliated.
It was an absolute political nightmare.
Li Shimin sighed heavily, rubbing his temples to stave off a headache. He looked directly into Fang Xuanling's panicked eyes and issued an iron-clad imperial promise.
"My dear minister," Li Shimin declared, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "I swear to you upon the heavens. Such a humiliating disaster will absolutely never occur in our timeline!"
Meanwhile, far away in the government office of Chengdu, the men of Shu Han had reached a surprisingly similar consensus regarding the three monks.
They had nothing but absolute praise for Xuanzang.
"Have they never heard of the unshakeable loyalty of Su Wu tending his sheep in the frozen north?" Liu Bei said softly, deeply moved by the monk's patriotism.
For these men of the Han dynasty, loyalty to one's homeland, regardless of the hardships or the temptations of foreign lands, was the ultimate, deciding factor of a man's worth.
Kongming, however, was entirely focused on the geopolitical data. He completely ignored the religious drama, his eyes narrowing sharply as he recalled a specific phrase from the screen.
"The third century," Kongming muttered quietly. "That specific timeframe... is it not referring to our exact present era?"
He looked at his colleagues, his brilliant mind connecting the dots of previous historical spoilers. "If we go by the screen's earlier broadcasts regarding the fall of the Roman Empire, then the complete collapse of the Parthian Empire must be happening right now, just beyond the western deserts."
Pang Tong, the brilliant tactician, stroked his chin. He looked highly skeptical of the foreign titles.
The King of Kings? The restorer of Persian glory?" Pang Tong scoffed lightly. "This Ardashir truly believes he stands above all other rulers? It seems a bit overly arrogant."
Zhang Fei scratched his massive, bearded chin. He genuinely did not understand the grand geopolitical scale they were discussing. He turned to Pang Tong with a confused grin.
"Hey, Shiyuan," Zhang Fei grunted. "Does this foreign King of Kings guy even compare to our brilliant Kongming? Because Kongming's brilliance shines through a thousand ages, right?"
"Go away, you brute. You are interrupting my thoughts," Pang Tong swatted at Zhang Fei in annoyance. He turned back to the map, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
"If our lord successfully reunites the Han and we reopen the ancient routes of the Western Regions," Pang Tong theorized, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. "It is highly likely that we will eventually have to cross swords, or at least trade words, with this so-called King of Kings. I wonder what kind of temper he possesses."
[Lightscreen]
[The epic tales of Master Xuanzang's journey flowed through the veins of Chinese folklore for centuries. It continued all the way until the Ming dynasty. During the reign of the Jiajing Emperor, the throne became violently obsessed with Daoist alchemy and superstition. And as the ancient saying goes, whatever the superiors love, the subordinates will pursue to the extreme. The political atmosphere of the Jiajing era was an absolute, suffocating circus.
A brilliant scholar named Wu Cheng'en became so disgusted by this toxic political climate that he angrily resigned from his government post. He took all the ancient folk legends about Xuanzang and forged them into the legendary fantasy masterpiece, Journey to the West.
In his novel, Wu Cheng'en ruthlessly, systematically mocked both the Buddhist and Daoist religions, while simultaneously writing a scathing, brilliant satire of the entire corrupt Ming dynasty bureaucracy. But honestly, that is a completely different story for another time.
Back in the early Tang dynasty, Li Shimin could not possibly predict the massive, sweeping impact that Buddhism would eventually have on his empire's future. He simply did not have the time to care.
Because right at that moment, Li Shimin was staring down a much more terrifying, immediate threat.
A violent, deep-rooted sickness that had been festering since the bloody chaos of the Wei, Jin, and Northern and Southern Dynasties. He was about to face the ultimate, apocalyptic power struggle: the brutal war between the aristocratic overlords of the Guandong and Guanzhong clans!]