How exactly did the ruler of Japan refer to himself?
For Inugami no Mitasuki, a man born and raised on those very islands, this should have been the easiest question in the world. Yet, kneeling on the polished floor of the Tang imperial court, the words completely jammed in his throat.
He could not bring himself to answer.
Inugami had served as an envoy to the previous Sui Dynasty. He knew his history. He vividly remembered the absolute diplomatic catastrophe caused by Ono no Imoko, the very first envoy dispatched by Prince Shotoku. That man had walked into the Sui court and handed over an official state letter. The letter casually referred to the Japanese ruler as the Emperor of the Rising Sun.
The Sui Emperor was furious. He considered it a grave insult. It caused an avalanche of political trouble.
The island nation only escaped total annihilation through dumb luck.
After the 3rd year of the Daye era, the Sui Dynasty was drowning in its own problems. They faced terrifying cavalry raids from the northern Turkic tribes. They suffered humiliating military defeats in the kingdom of Goguryeo. And that was not even the worst of it. On the home front, they drafted millions of peasants to build enormous palaces and dig the Grand Canal. The resulting public fury sparked widespread rebellions.
The Sui Emperor simply lacked the spare time to launch a naval invasion over a disrespectful letter. Otherwise, the Japanese islands would have been burned to the ground.
But the Tang Dynasty sovereign sitting before Inugami right now was a completely different species of predator.
If Inugami needed proof of this new Emperor's martial supremacy, he only had to remember yesterday. He had seen Illig Qaghan. The man used to be the undisputed overlord of the Asian steppes. Millions of nomads answered his call.
Now? That exact same man was serving as a court dancer. He performed for the Tang Emperor. He looked utterly broken. Every ounce of his former terrifying aura was gone.
Furthermore, Inugami knew the politics back home. The intellectuals of his own court had long resented the Chinese name for their nation. They studied the mainland classics closely, and they knew exactly what that character meant in the Chinese dictionary. It carried a connotation of subservience, and they had grown tired of it. To them, it was not a name. It was a label imposed by a larger neighbor.
Inugami kept all these thoughts locked inside his head. He silently thanked the heavens that he had spent weeks persuading his own ruler to soften the language of the official letters before they sailed. Now he needed a safe answer, and he chose his words with agonizing care.
"The master of my country does not dare forget the teachings of the Son of Heaven of the Central Kingdom, Your Majesty."
Inugami spoke in his native tongue. He used the word for my country, a pronunciation that sat uncomfortably close to the older name the mainland had once used for his people.
Li Shimin caught the careful choice immediately. His face remained a mask of total indifference. He did not call out the envoy. He simply looked down at the official silk scroll resting in his hands.
He read the opening line. From the Great King of the place where the sun rises, wishing good health to the Son of Heaven of the Central Kingdom.
The Emperor gave a faint twitch of his lips.
Pei Shiqing had been absolutely right. His assessment of the delegation was flawless.
Li Shimin realized he had nearly been fooled by the title Great King. Back in the Central Plains, warlords and rebel leaders had claimed the title for themselves for centuries. Every regional strongman with a few thousand soldiers called himself a Great King. But Pei Shiqing had provided the crucial cultural translation. Over on those islands, Great King was not a casual honorific. It was their exact translation for the sovereign who rules the entire world.
The Emperor stared at the phrase the place where the sun rises. The characters were written with unmistakable pride on the expensive silk. A realization slowly dawned on him. This unusual phrase was likely going to become the new official name for their country in the future. The root words for sun and origin.
He set the silk scroll aside. He tossed out a standard diplomatic question.
"For what purpose has the envoy traveled here?"
Inugami kept his forehead glued to the floor tiles. He was ready for this part of the routine. Monk Honichi had drilled him on this exact response dozens of times. The words flowed out smoothly.
"The people of our nation deeply admire the culture of the Tang Dynasty, Your Majesty. We have come to present the finest local products of our land. We seek to establish a bond of neighborly friendship with the Son of Heaven."
Pei Shiqing stood near the throne. He translated Inugami's speech into flawless court Chinese.
As the words echoed through the hall, the rest of the island delegation sprang into action. They carefully unpacked the tribute and arranged it on the floor.
A few single-edged swords. Several pieces of unglazed pottery. Rolls of woven fabric, stiff and uneven in the weave. A handful of carved jade pieces. Several small pouches of raw gold dust.
In the Tang court, where tributes from the western kingdoms arrived in carved chests and silver inlay, the display was modest.
Li Shimin scanned the tribute laid out before him. His eyes skipped over the weapons and the fabric. Only the small leather pouches held his interest. He leaned forward, pinched a small amount of the gold dust between his fingers, and held it up to catch the light.
Pei Shiqing watched from the side.
The diplomat had recently received a very private, very intense education from his sovereign regarding future events. He still harbored deep logical doubts about the Emperor's claims. But he had decided to play along. He would wait a few months to see if this miraculous future-predicting screen actually existed. For now, the Emperor's word was absolute law.
He noticed Li Shimin inspecting the gold, and he remembered the strange things the Emperor had said about the island nation sitting on a mountain of underground wealth. Pei stepped forward to offer his commentary.
"Your Majesty. The techniques used to extract this sand are incredibly primitive. However, the raw purity of the gold itself is astonishing. It surpasses even the finest yields from our own Xin Prefecture."
Pei Shiqing knew exactly what he was talking about. He had spent the last several days interviewing master blacksmiths and imperial assayers across the capital, preparing for this exact meeting.
He had learned that the mainland classified gold into 4 categories. Bran gold, sand gold, raw gold, and rock gold. Refining any of them was a nightmare. The metal was always heavily contaminated with useless minerals. The only place in the entire Tang Empire that produced pure, solid nuggets was the deep mountain range of the Jiannan Circuit. Those mountains were choked with lethal jungle. Mining there was a constant battle against disease, terrain, and death.
Looking at the high-grade dust scattered across the floor, Pei Shiqing felt a sharp sting of regret. During his previous diplomatic trip to the islands, he had completely missed this detail. He should have spent far more time documenting their mineral wealth.
Li Shimin rubbed the gold dust between his fingers. A faint smile of satisfaction crossed his face. He nodded at the eunuch standing by the pillar.
"Since the King of Japan offers these gifts with sincerity, we shall accept them."
The Emperor shifted his gaze to Monk Honichi. His tone warmed.
"You have traveled a very long way to reach us. There is no need to rush. I invite you to stay in the capital until July before returning east."
He smiled down at the kneeling men.
"The bonds of friendship between neighboring realms must remain strong forever. The officials of the Honglu Temple will handle the details of your stay."
Li Shimin waved his hand.
The audience was over. The envoys were dismissed.
Inugami shuffled backward out of the Taiji Palace. He walked down the enormous stone steps in a state of total bewilderment. He looked at the golden roofs glittering in the sun. He felt completely empty inside.
Wait. This was entirely wrong.
According to every established rule of mainland diplomacy, this was not how the game was supposed to work.
When a foreign nation presented tribute, the Central Kingdom was supposed to prove its infinite wealth. The Emperor was supposed to reward the envoys with return gifts worth 10 times the value of the original tribute. It was an ancient system of geopolitical flexing, and everyone involved knew the rules.
Why did this Tang Emperor just take their stuff and tell them to leave?
Where were the carts of silk? Where were the silver ingots? Where was the ceremonial generosity that was supposed to leave foreign envoys staggering home under the weight of imperial gratitude?
Inugami had budgeted for that gratitude.
A wave of physical pain hit him straight in the chest. It was the specific, gut-wrenching pain of a man watching his investment portfolio collapse in real time.
To secure his position as lead envoy for this trip, he had bribed his own Emperor. He had personally paid 200 taels of fine gold dust just to get on the boat. In the island economy, that was not a bribe. That was generational wealth. That was the kind of money that bought land, built a house, and paid for a comfortable retirement surrounded by grandchildren who would never have to work a day in their lives.
He had viewed it as an investment. A calculated risk. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to turn 200 taels into something far more valuable.
Now?
Zero return. No silk. No silver. Not even a complimentary scroll of calligraphy.
He was financially ruined, and the Tang Emperor had not even bothered to notice.
Monk Honichi walked beside him, completely unbothered.
The monk did not care about the lack of return gifts. Even if the Tang Emperor had dumped a mountain of silver at their feet, Honichi would not have seen a single coin of it. He belonged to the esoteric Silla branch of Buddhism. His goals were pure, fanatical, and entirely spiritual.
In other words, he was the only man in the delegation who was not currently calculating his losses.
He wanted to use the terrifying military and cultural prestige of the Tang empire to open borders. He wanted to turbocharge the spread of Buddhism across the Japan. He wanted to guarantee salvation in the next life. From his perspective, gold and dirt were exactly the same thing.
Honichi was completely fixated on a single detail from the Emperor's speech.
July.
Why July? That was 6 months away. What exactly was going to happen in 6 months?
Back inside the palace, Li Shimin stepped down from the throne and gestured for Pei Shiqing to follow him. They moved away from the formal hall, strolling down a shaded wooden corridor toward the rear gardens as they discussed the strange diplomatic encounter.
Pei Shiqing had fully expected the Emperor to explode in anger. He had braced himself for a righteous rant about the deceptive nature of the islanders and their hidden ambitions.
Instead, the Emperor let out a dry, cynical laugh.
"No wonder the scholars of the future mocked this entire system," Li Shimin mused. "They called the tribute system a highly profitable scam for small nations. They even mentioned fake merchants pretending to be royal envoys just to exploit our treasury."
Li Shimin understood the math perfectly.
If you took all the treasures the Japanese delegation had just presented and dumped them in the West Market of Chang'an, the locals would laugh. Apart from the raw gold and jade, the merchants would throw the swords and fabric straight into the garbage.
The Emperor did a quick mental calculation. The total value of the tribute was perhaps 300,000 copper coins. If the Tang court followed the old Sui playbook, they would have to give back millions of coins worth of luxury goods just to show off.
Did that enormous transfer of wealth actually secure diplomatic loyalty?
No.
Li Shimin knew the truth. Throwing money at foreign nobles only fattened the parasites at the top of their society. The common people of those foreign lands would never even hear about the majesty of the Tang Empire. The wealth would vanish into private vaults and never be seen again.
There was an old saying among the philosophers. Standing by the river and coveting the fish is a waste of time. It is far better to go home and weave a net.
Japan had not come here because they loved the Emperor. They came because they lusted after the advanced civilization of the mainland. They wanted the language. They wanted the culture. They wanted the technology.
They did not actually care about the gold.
Li Shimin was a deeply practical man. He decided to fundamentally restructure the relationship.
He was going to weave a very large, very inescapable net.
He stopped walking and turned to his diplomat.
"The affairs of Japan are now your primary directive. Execute the strategy we discussed. I want you handling this personally."
Pei Shiqing straightened his posture and puffed out his chest.
"I shall not fail the trust Your Majesty has placed in me!"
The imperial machine moved fast. The very next morning, the heavy wooden doors of the foreign guest house rattled with a firm knock.
Minister Du Ruhui and Pei Shiqing stood in the courtyard. They were a terrifying combination of political brainpower and diplomatic experience. They walked into the envoy's quarters. They immediately laid out their agenda.
Honichi the monk felt an enormous surge of panic mixed with flattery.
"Lord Du wishes to discuss the affairs of our nation with me?"
He waved his hands frantically in refusal.
"I am a man of the cloth. I have severed my ties to the secular world. I hold no official rank in our government. If you wish to discuss state business, I can only serve as a humble translator between yourself and Envoy Inugami."
Du Ruhui offered a warm, incredibly smooth smile. He projected an aura of total peace.
"Master Honichi, please relax. I have absolutely no interest in secular politics. I came here specifically to speak with you regarding the expansion of the Buddhist faith. It has nothing to do with government treaties."
Honichi had lived in Chang'an for over a decade during his previous stay. He spoke the language perfectly. He understood the hidden layers of court speak. He caught the enormous, glittering hook dangling in front of his face.
The Tang government was offering state sponsorship for his religion.
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second. A fire ignited in his chest.
But he looked over at Inugami. The diplomat was staring at them with intense curiosity, waiting for the translation. Honichi felt a brief stab of guilt.
"But... what about Envoy Inugami?"
Pei Shiqing stepped smoothly into the gap. He took control of the room, then looked directly at Inugami and spoke.
"I am the former diplomatic official who traveled to your lands during the Sui Dynasty. I am now the Deputy of the Court of State Ceremonial for the Great Tang. My name is Pei Shiqing. I am here to personally negotiate the terms of friendship between our two nations."
Inugami felt his jaw drop open.
Pei Shiqing was not speaking Chinese. He was speaking perfectly fluent, highly educated Japanese.
The implications hit Inugami one after another. This high-ranking Tang official knew their language. He knew their geography. He had been to their home.
Wait.
A former Sui envoy? Holy shit. Could this be the biological father of the current head of the Nukatabe clan?
Before Inugami could process the family gossip, Honichi made his move.
The monk had realized something important: the Tang diplomat spoke their language perfectly. That meant Honichi was no longer needed as a translator.
Which meant Honichi was free.
He gestured urgently toward a side door.
"Lord Du. There is a meditation room just down the hall. Please. Let us relocate there to discuss the profound mysteries of the dharma."
Mysteries of the dharma. Right. Inugami had known this monk for years. The only mystery Honichi cared about was how to secure state funding for his sect.
But Inugami said nothing. He simply watched them leave.
Then he turned to Honichi and gave him a glare that could have curdled milk.
"Master Honichi. What exactly is going on here?"
Honichi lied without skipping a beat.
"Ah. Lord Du is a deeply devoted student of the faith. He heard that I practice the Silla sect traditions. Our methods differ from the local mainland schools. He simply wishes to ask a few theological questions."
Inugami bought the lie completely.
Back on the islands, monks constantly bragged about their influence on the mainland. They claimed the Chinese Emperor showed supreme respect to the Buddha, and that every major politician was secretly a scholar of the sutras. This seemed perfectly normal.
Inugami did not realize he had just been outmaneuvered by a man in a robe who had spent the last ten years perfecting the art of looking harmless.
The two Tang officials split the delegation right down the middle. They retreated into separate rooms.
The psychological dismantling began.
The negotiations dragged on for hours. The sun crawled across the sky. Shadows stretched across the courtyard until the light turned gold, then orange, then faded into dusk.
It was nearly twilight when Inugami finally escorted Pei Shiqing out the main gate.
Inugami looked exhausted. His mind was spinning with heavy, dangerous thoughts. He walked back to his room and found Honichi sitting in the center of the floor, perfectly still, like a statue that had been waiting for him.
"Well?" Inugami asked. "How deep was the great lord's understanding of the faith?"
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Honichi's face. His eyes burned with dark, ambitious fire.
It was the look of a man who had just been handed the keys to a kingdom.
"The Tang is truly the supreme nation," Honichi said. "Their officials possess a grasp of the divine that puts my own studies to shame."
Translation: they had promised him everything he wanted.
Honichi looked at the diplomat.
"And your negotiations, Envoy? How did they proceed?"
Inugami did not answer immediately.
He reviewed the last few hours of his life. Pei Shiqing had painted a very specific, very lucrative picture of the future. The Tang official had made a series of promises.
There were promises of enormous estates in the capital. There were promises of highly productive farmland. There were promises of muscular Turkic slaves to carry his palanquin.
There was even the promise of an official aristocratic title within the Tang government hierarchy.
It was a staggering amount of wealth and power.
More importantly, Inugami realized the key detail.
Every single one of those promises was directed at him. Personally.
Pei Shiqing had not offered a single copper coin to the Emperor back on the islands. The Tang Empire was buying Inugami, lock, stock, and barrel.
They were not bribing Japan. They were bribing the man who represented Japan.
Inugami made his choice. He abandoned his loyalty to his sovereign without a second thought.
An enormous, entirely genuine smile broke across his face.
"The negotiations," Inugami said brightly, "went exceptionally well."