[Lightscreen]
[Come. Say hello to our Mother Earth.]
For the men gathered in the Chengdu government office and the halls of Ganlu Hall, the world as they knew it ended in that singular, heart-stopping moment.
What they saw was not just an image. It was a memory seared into their souls, destined to remain until the day their spirits returned to the dust.
The sheer, overwhelming shock of seeing that vibrant, sapphire-blue sphere floating in the void was a physical weight, a spiritual revelation that defied every classic they had ever memorized.
In Chengdu, the atmosphere of scholarly restraint evaporated instantly.
Zhang Fei, a man of action, could no longer remain seated. He lurched upward, his massive hand coming down on Wei Yan's shoulder with enough force to crack floorboards.
His chest heaved with a chaotic mixture of heat and cold, a cocktail of emotions he lacked the vocabulary to name.
It was the thrill of seeing what the ancient sages had only dreamed of.
It was the crushing realization of how small their world truly was.
It was a terrifying glimpse into the unknown, coupled with a fierce, burning pride for the achievements of these future children of Huaxia.
Zhang Fei wanted to roar, to weep, to shout a greeting to the heavens, but the words stuck in his throat like dry gravel.
All he could do was pummel Wei Yan's back, pointing a shaking finger at the light screen while making a series of incoherent sounds.
"Ah! Ey! Look!"
Wei Yan, usually the stoic general, was just as far gone.
His face was flushed, and his own hand was gripping Zhang Fei's arm so hard the skin turned white.
Not knowing what else to do with the adrenaline surging through his veins, Wei Yan grabbed a heavy tea bowl from the table, shoved another into Zhang Fei's hand, and threw his head back to drain the liquid in one aggressive gulp as if it were the finest vintage of wine.
Zhang Fei followed suit, the tea doing nothing to quench the fire in his gut.
Finally, he let out a ragged breath and exploded with a single sentence.
"So we are on a ball?! All this time, we have been killing each other over inches of dirt... on a floating ball!"
The scene around them was even more chaotic.
Liu Bei, Kongming, and Pang Tong had long since abandoned their seats of honor.
They were huddled together at the very base of the light screen, their necks craned upward, desperate to be closer to the glowing blue marble.
Zhang Song was practically hopping like a manic sparrow, trying to see over shoulders, while Kongming stood like a tall, silent crane, his fan forgotten on the floor.
"The power of our descendants is limitless!" someone cried out from the back.
"We finally know the truth: the Heavens are infinite, but the Earth has its bounds!"
"I must draw this! When we return to Nanyang, we shall sacrifice a portrait of Mother Earth at the tomb of Zhang Heng! The old master was right all along!"
"Wait, it is all wrong! Everything is wrong!" a younger official wailed, clutching his temples.
"If the Earth is a sphere, where is up and where is down? If North can be South and South can be North, then the Four Directions of the world are a lie!"
"Why does Mother Earth not fall? What invisible hand holds this sphere in the center of the dark sky?"
"And what is this Tiangong? A temple at the highest peak of heaven? Have the future generations discovered the ruins of the gods and rebuilt them?"
"Those white streaks... those are clouds? They look like silk floating on a lake..."
The questions were a torrential downpour, each one more desperate than the last.
The sight of the world had answered the "what," but it had raised a thousand "whys" that these men were not equipped to answer.
Slowly, the frenzied shouting died down, replaced by a heavy, contemplative silence.
They returned to their desks, but the mood had shifted from observation to a frantic, religious devotion to record-keeping.
Every brush was in motion.
Some tried to capture the curve of the horizon with fine-line ink work; others spilled gallons of ink trying to describe the indescribable blue of the oceans.
Every time they looked up to check a detail, they found themselves entranced once more, lost in the breathtaking beauty of the planet.
Kongming's brush moved with a precision that betrayed his inner turmoil.
He was sketching a simplified version of the Tiangong space station, his mind already racing ahead.
Even while doing so, he found time to discuss the implications with Liu Bei, who was staring at his own parchment with a look of pure longing.
"It is no wonder the future speaks so often of a navy," Kongming remarked softly.
"Looking at the vastness of the oceans on Mother Earth, it is clear that only a master of the seas can truly guard the gates of the empire."
Liu Bei sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen.
"I would give ten years of my life just to stand in that Tiangong for a single hour. To look down and see the whole realm in one glance..."
Kongming paused, his brush hovering over the inkstone.
He thought of the sheer number of scientific disciplines the screen had mentioned earlier. Mathematics, physics, materials science.
The mountain of knowledge required to reach that height was so tall it disappeared into the clouds.
He recalled the words of Zhuangzi, and a sudden, sharp pang of mortality struck him.
My life has a limit, but knowledge has no limit.
Pang Tong, sitting nearby, understood that feeling perfectly.
"The more we know," he sighed, "the more we realize how truly ignorant we are."
Liu Bei, however, stood tall and let out a hearty laugh, his eyes bright with a renewed fire.
"Why the long faces, my friends? This great tree of the future, this Tiangong that touches the stars, grew from the tiny seeds we are planting today. The sages of the past would envy us this very moment. We are the ones laying the foundation. We are building the base of a nine-story tower for our children!"
---
Across the veil of time, in Ganlu Hall, the busiest man in the Tang Empire was undoubtedly Yan Liben.
His desk was a disaster zone of half-finished masterpieces.
To his left was a rough silhouette of the Dongfeng Express.
Nearby, a few strokes representing the great library of the future.
To his right, a partially completed Nanhai No. 1.
He had even attempted a frantic charcoal sketch of Tao Chengdao's final flight.
And the heavenly palace, hastily drawn with his own fingers dipped in ink when his brush could not keep up.
He could not draw fast enough.
It was simply impossible.
Now, with the Mother Earth glowing before him, he was pouring his entire soul into capturing the exact swirl of a hurricane over the ocean, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and artistic greed.
Zhangsun Wuji, the highest-ranking official in the land, was personally grinding the ink for him, acting as a lowly assistant without a single word of complaint.
Li Shimin could no longer maintain the dignity of an emperor.
He strode to the very front of the hall, his face inches from the light screen, desperate to drink in every detail.
When he moved too far to the left, Yan Liben let out a roar of protest.
"Your Majesty! Move! You are blocking the light!"
The Emperor of the Great Tang actually let out a sheepish laugh and shuffled to the side.
He was not even angry.
He turned back to the screen, his chest swelling with a pride so thick it felt like armor.
"These people of the future," Li Shimin declared, his voice echoing with conviction. "They are truly the children of my Tang!"
It was a classic bit of imperial ego.
But in his mind, it made perfect sense.
His Tang had tricked the aristocratic clans into gathering at the capital and wiped them out in one clean sweep.
Only then was the wisdom of the common people truly unleashed.
Only then could they dive into the seas and reach for the heavens.
So, by a rough calculation, did his Great Tang not earn the credit for the first great breakthrough?
In his eyes, he was the primary architect of the stars.
"The old theories of the Canopy and the Sphere... they were all wrong," Fang Xuanling muttered to himself.
"Looking at this, the Propagating Void theory of the Han era seems the most accurate. But still... how can the Earth be a ball? It feels so solid!"
"The Propagating Void theory said the sun, moon, and stars float in the empty space," Du Ruhui added, nodding slowly.
"But none of the old masters ever suggested that the Earth itself was just another object floating in that same void. But..."
He could not let it go.
"How can it be a sphere?"
"We are seeing only a tiny portion of the world," Wei Zheng said, comparing the screen to the maps of the Tang Empire.
"Our great territory, our vast borders... on that ball, they are but a single patch of green and brown. The world is so much larger than we dared to dream."
The three senior ministers shared a look of profound, shared existential dread.
The "ball" theory was wreaking havoc on their sense of geography and philosophy.
"How can it be a sphere?"
The question echoed through the hall, unanswered.
But Li Shimin had no patience for these philosophical knots.
He studied the image on the screen and soon arrived at his own question, his military mind clicking into gear.
"The future speaks of this ascent to the heavens with such gravity," the Emperor noted.
"They say it requires the strength of the entire nation to reach the sky. That means the heavens are the new high ground."
His eyes sharpened with a predatory light.
"Is the sky now a battlefield?"
Li Jing, the God of War, nodded slowly.
"If the ocean is territory, then the space a million miles above our heads must also be territory. They built the Heavenly Palace as a fortress to guard against enemies from above."
Li Shiji frowned.
"But there is nothing else up there. Who are they guarding against?"
Wei Zheng, trying to lighten the heavy mood, offered a dry joke.
"Perhaps enemies from beyond the stars? Enemies from beyond the heavens?"
Li Shimin did not laugh.
He looked at the Dongfeng Express missile they had seen earlier and then back at the space station.
"Can that Express strike anywhere on the ball?" Li Jing whispered, finally finding the right words.
"If you are in the Heavenly Palace, you can see every city, every camp, every movement of every army. There is no such thing as a secret anymore."
[Lightscreen]
[From bowing our heads as slaves to rising up in rebellion. From generations of exploitation to becoming masters of our own destiny. Now, the journey of us ordinary people... is to the sea of stars.]
Li Shimin felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
The words hit him like a physical blow.
He and his generals were still down here, fighting and dying for mountain passes and river crossings, while the future was claiming the very stars as their territory.
He felt a sudden, sharp pang of inadequacy.
Compared to the cosmic scale of the future's Heavenly Palace, his title of Emperor of the Ages felt like a child playing with pebbles in a garden.
This was why the future looked down on the noble rice-worms.
This was why they did not care about kings and marquises.
When you have mastered the stars, the petty squabbles of lords seem like ants fighting over a crumb.
Li Jing and Li Shiji were trembling, but not with fear.
They were vibrating with an intense, fierce pride.
Look. Those are our descendants.
They share our blood, our spirit.
They have taken our Huaxia to the very roof of the world.
Li Jing felt a deeper emotion stir within him.
If only I could fight alongside these future descendants. If only I could protect them.
[Lightscreen]
[And on this journey to the sea of stars, we have never forgotten. Never forgotten those ancient sages who poured their life's blood into this long and rugged road.]
It seemed the broadcast was finally drawing to a close.
The narration slowed, and the image began to shift.
A small, impossibly bright moon entered the frame.
The camera zoomed in rapidly.
The Chengdu office erupted once again into chaos.
Even Wei Yan, who had been forcing himself to remain composed, shot to his feet and craned his neck.
The Moon! Taiyin!
At last they would see the realm of immortals through the eyes of the future!
What did the Jade Rabbit look like?
Was the Moon Goddess as beautiful as the legends claimed?
Was the Moon Palace beautiful?
And then, in a heartbeat, that anticipation was shattered.
As the camera zoomed closer, the silver glow vanished.
It was replaced by a desolate, gray wasteland.
There were no palaces.
There were no goddesses.
There were only millions of jagged, ugly holes and craters, stretching across a dead, dusty landscape.
It was as if someone had taken the collective heart of the Han Dynasty and dropped it onto the floor, where it shattered into gray dust.
Kongming pursed his lips, his expression unreadable.
"While I did not truly expect to see a goddess... this abode of Taiyin..."
"It is hideous!" Zhang Fei shouted, giving voice to everyone's disappointment.
"It looks like a pockmarked face! Where is the beauty?!"
[Lightscreen]
[On the far side of the moon, there are five craters named after our ancient sages.]
The light screen ignored their complaints.
It rotated to the dark side of the moon, and text began to appear, highlighting specific craters.
Two of the names caused the Chengdu office to erupt in a different kind of shock.
"Shi Shen. He left behind the Shi Shi Star Manual. It is only right that he is remembered among the stars."
Kongming could not hide a trace of professional envy.
"Our Han Dynasty's Zhang Heng?" Pang Tong gasped, his eyes fixed on the name.
Pang Tong had been planning to burn a drawing of the Earth for Zhang Heng's spirit.
Now he realized the man already had his name carved into the moon itself.
Zhang Heng had only been dead for less than a century in their time.
Then Pang Tong remembered his own early death in the original history.
A bitter, sour feeling crept into his heart.
Zhang Fei, however, had reached a different conclusion.
His eyes went wide.
"So they did not build a palace... they built a temple in the heavens?!"
His envy immediately surged out of control.
"Having your name on the moon? That is a thousand times better than any temple on Earth! I wonder... is it too late for me to start studying the stars?"
---
In Ganlu Hall, Li Shimin was staring at a massive crater labeled "Wan Hu."
The light screen had even provided a note.
Original name: Tao Chengdao. Granted the title of Wan Hu, by which he became known. The world's first pioneer of space flight.
For the very first time, Li Shimin felt a genuine sting of competitive jealousy.
A dangerous, impulsive thought began to take root in his mind.
What if, once I get my hands on that gunpowder formula, I imitate this Wan Hu and claim the title first?
The screen had made it clear that the man's method had ended rather explosively.
It was dangerous.
It was likely fatal.
But still... to have one's name carved into the silver face of the moon for all eternity.
Was it worth the risk?
Li Shimin fell into a deep, calculating silence.
The Eternal Emperor was already planning his next conquest.
The Moon.