Patent Rights (1)
The audience chamber of the Hall of Heavenly Purity in the Forbidden City.
This was the seat where the Emperor gathered his high ministers to deliberate the weightiest affairs of state.
Under ordinary circumstances, it was no place that would be thrown open merely because some scion of a provincial clan—and a fallen one at that—had come to present a gift to the throne. That such a hall, reserved for receiving the ambassadors of foreign powers, should be opened for Hui-yeom was already extraordinary; that the ministers themselves had been summoned only deepened the offense for many present.
None ground his teeth more fiercely than Pi Jae-hyeon, Minister of War and head of the Pi Clan.
Watching him with a faint, knowing smile was Gol Man-seung, lord of the Gol Clan and Minister of Works. He spoke softly.
"Minister of War, your complexion looks rather poor. Are you quite well?"
"Hmph. One truly lives long enough to see everything. That the Minister of Works should one day concern himself with my health…"
"Come now, no need for such sarcasm."
Gol Man-seung lowered his voice further.
"Does this gathering not strike you as strange? Has the Pi Clan heard anything we have not?"
Strange it most certainly was.
To summon every high minister of the Six Boards merely so that some provincial nobody could offer a gift and receive a few words of praise? No one could seriously believe this was only about rewarding a loyal subject's devotion. Political intent was all but written on the walls.
Pushing his habitual distaste for Gol Man-seung to the back of his mind, Pi Jae-hyeon considered a moment, then shook his head.
"Regrettably, nothing of substance has reached me either. Though I did hear something of the nature of the gift."
"And what is it? Several hundred catties of gold, perhaps?"
"A new weapon, they say."
"A new weapon?"
Matters of arms fell under the Ministry of War, so word of any weapon destined for imperial presentation had, of course, filtered down to him.
"They call it a flintlock musket—a cylindrical iron tube that loads iron shot and looses it at an enemy."
"Something akin to a bow and arrow?"
"Perhaps more like a miniature crossbow."
"You don't mean the Zhuge Crossbow?"
At the mention of that name, Pi Jae-hyeon's expression tightened almost imperceptibly.
The Zhuge Family was a minor martial house that had never joined the ranks of the Eight Great Families, yet their Zhuge Crossbow was a revolutionary armament whose fame shook the four seas. For years Pi Jae-hyeon had used the authority of the Ministry of War in an attempt to seize the manufacturing secrets; the cunning foxes of the Zhuge Family had dangled production rights and distribution as bait, slowly gnawing away at the Pi Clan's influence.
Insolent martial houses of the jianghu.
The Pi Clan might be dismissed by the other Seven Great Families as little more than a watchdog, yet that very status made their contempt for the provincial warlords of the martial world all the sharper. Foolish curs who refused to submit—mongrels too stupid to realize they would end up stewed in the Emperor's pot, wagging their tails at whatever bone he tossed them.
That was the Pi Clan's view of every martial house.
While he brooded, Gol Man-seung stroked his chin.
"A weapon… yet I have heard a different tale entirely."
"You have other intelligence?"
"What reached my ears was that it is a magnificent sculpture."
As master of the Ministry of Works, Gol Man-seung naturally received such rumors first.
Pi Jae-hyeon thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Yunnan, where those people have seized so many interests, was once called the Kingdom of Dali. A colossal statue carved from precious marble without stinting on material would certainly be valuable. That thing over there?"
He jerked his chin toward the pair of enormous shapes flanking the base of the stairs that led up to the imperial throne. Even standing on the lower level, they rose high enough to reach the throne itself. Luxurious yellow silk shrouded them completely, but since nothing of the sort had stood there the week before, it required no great leap of logic to conclude that these were the "gifts."
"…They are large."
Perhaps four zhang in height—twelve meters. One could have called them modest stone pagodas and been believed.
At that moment the doors of the audience chamber opened, and two figures entered with bowed heads.
"Those two?"
Every eye in the hall fixed upon them—Pi Jae-hyeon's and Gol Man-seung's included.
The first to seize attention was the red-haired devil walking half a step behind on the right: a white man, the sort the Central Plains people called a hongmogui with open contempt.
His dull, reddish-brown hair was coarse and tightly curled, as though scorched by fire. He was slight of build, with a broad forehead and a nose that looked as if it had once been broken—an ugly man whose sharp eyes radiated a foul temper utterly ignorant of the virtue of obedience.
Yes—he matched the popular image of a red-haired barbarian so perfectly that a few of the ministers could not suppress faint sneers.
"Why bring such a creature here…?"
"He must be the one who carved the statues."
Gol Man-seung spoke with open disdain.
"Nothing more than a colored-eye foreigner. What great art can those savages produce that could ever compare to the beauty of our Great Central Kingdom?"
Pi Jae-hyeon, however, paid no attention to the muttered commentary. His gaze remained locked on the young man walking ahead of the ugly foreigner.
First impression: the very picture of a flower-like young lord. Delicate, refined features, not a single whisker on his smooth face—so pretty one might almost mistake him for a eunuch. Yet there was none of the eerie, androgynous allure of a palace eunuch. Rather, he possessed the gentle, kindly beauty of a virtuous young gentleman.
The soft lines of his face, however, stood in sharp contrast to the broad shoulders and imposing height that marked him unmistakably as a man. Most striking of all were his eyes. Mild though they seemed, they burned with the quiet, charcoal-like fire of iron will and absolute self-assurance that belongs only to those born to stand above others.
That gaze transformed the pretty face into something else entirely—soft yet unbreakable, delicate yet unyielding, the very image of a scholar's integrity.
Gol Man-seung let out a short sound of admiration.
"He is not cowed in the least—walking that path with civil and military officials arrayed on either side, straight toward the throne."
"…That composure, at least, I will grant him."
This was the young master of the Dang Family who had supposedly swallowed three hundred carefully trained private soldiers. Pi Jae-hyeon clicked his tongue, unable to look upon him with any kindness.
"And what is that?"
Behind the two men who strode so boldly came a servant hauling a cart loaded with wooden crates.
"More gifts, I suppose."
"They bring them in like that instead of delivering them in advance?"
A low murmur ran through the hall.
While the courtiers whispered, the youth of the Dang Family and the ugly red-haired barbarian reached the place of audience and prostrated themselves fully upon the floor.
A eunuch's voice rang out.
"His Majesty the Emperor approaches—!"
A great gong crashed. Every civil and military official pressed their foreheads to the floor.
Emperor Sungui strode in with measured, majestic steps and seated himself upon the dragon throne.
"All may raise your heads."
Only then did the ministers lift their gazes.
The Emperor looked down at Hui-yeom's back—the young man still kneeling with both hands and knees on the floor, forehead to the ground—and smiled faintly.
"So. We have heard that Our loyal subject has brought tribute for Us. What is it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. This humble subject, Dang Hui-yeom, has prepared three gifts for Your Imperial Majesty."
"We already know one of them. These unfamiliar ornaments, yes?"
Emperor Sungui turned only his head, regarding the enormous shapes visible to either side of the throne, and grinned.
"Better to see once than hear a hundred times. Let Us examine the real articles before We speak further. Eunuchs—draw back the cloths."
"We receive the imperial command!"
At the Emperor's order several eunuchs hurried forward and pulled the cords attached to the yellow silk. The fabric cascaded down, revealing the colossal sculptures within.
"Ooooh…!!"
Involuntarily the ministers gasped.
Two dragons, so lifelike they seemed ready to move, stood revealed.
Each form had first been shaped from reinforced concrete blocks, then carved by Michelangelo, and finally painted with oil colors. The finished dragons truly appeared alive. Several timid officials let out soft whimpers and stumbled backward without realizing it.
Each dragon was assembled from three hundred sixty-five cylindrical concrete segments joined at angles. Metal screw threads locked block to block; bronze rivets driven diagonally from four directions on the exterior prevented any shift. Dynamic in pose yet perfectly balanced in weight and center of gravity, the statues would never topple. One could declare without exaggeration that they were the greatest sculptures in the history of the Central Plains.
Assembling them alone had taken Michelangelo half a day even with the help of palace servants—a true masterpiece.
"Astonishing…"
Even Emperor Sungui murmured the word without thinking.
Yet it was not only the living dragons that commanded awe. The ministers' eyes, first captured by the massive forms, soon drifted to the "wish-granting jewels" held in each dragon's jaws.
Wish-granting jewels—two enormous orbs, each a full two meters in diameter.
The brilliant radiance they cast seized every gaze in the hall.
"…That two such colossal precious stones could even exist…?"
Someone's involuntary whisper spoke for them all.
However they had been cut, the five-colored light that filled and reflected from the jewels surpassed any gem under heaven. Of course it did: hundreds of glass facets in crimson, yellow, blue, white, and green had been assembled to scatter light from every angle, like a swarm of crystal flowers. Far more reflective surfaces meant far greater brilliance than any ordinary jewel.
While every face shone with rapture, Emperor Sungui—who had already known the general outline—spoke in a voice that trembled despite himself.
"…Superb! Truly superb! Crystals of such size… objects that perfectly display Our majesty.
Those who have presented Us with such treasures must receive fitting reward, must they not?"
Only then did the courtiers understand why the Emperor had summoned the entire bureaucracy. Yes—gifts of this caliber justified the gathering. At the same time, the occasion served as a stage upon which the Sichuan Dang Family announced to the political world of Beijing that they possessed the capacity to create such wonders.
Naturally the Dang Family would have no choice but to walk the path of the pro-Emperor faction. Would they now share a boat with the other non-mainstream martial houses—the Zhuge Family, the Beijing Yang Family, and the Sama Family?
While complicated thoughts raced through every mind, Hui-yeom answered the Emperor with a quiet smile.
"Your Majesty, this subject speaks with the utmost reverence, yet the Twin Dragon Statues of Manifest Imperial Majesty have not yet revealed their true form."
"What? They have not yet revealed their true form?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
What could he possibly mean? The two dragons already stood as majestic titans—how could this not be their true form? Did he claim the statues themselves possessed life and would move?
Every face turned toward Hui-yeom in blank disbelief. He continued.
"I humbly beg Your Majesty to grant this subject leave to bestow life upon the Twin Dragon Statues."
Bestow life upon the statues? What nonsense was this?
From the high throne Emperor Sungui looked down upon the hall, where curiosity had reached its peak, and clicked his tongue inwardly. Moments earlier these men had regarded a lowly provincial clansman and his red-haired barbarian with open hostility and contempt; now every one of them was completely overawed by the spectacle.
He knows how to seize and hold the attention of a crowd.
"Permission granted."
At the Emperor's assent Hui-yeom signaled the eunuchs. Those who had been briefed in advance moved at once.
Behind each dragon—invisible from the front—the scales of the spine had been fashioned into a staircase that allowed a man to climb to the back of the skull. Two eunuchs skilled in martial arts leapt lightly upward with torches and reached the hollow spaces prepared within the heads, chambers large enough for an adult man.
Inside each waited a small boiler linked to a steam engine, and a large carbide lamp fixed behind the wish-granting-jewel chandelier.
The eunuchs lit both the carbide lamps and the steam engines, then withdrew.
At once—
"Oh… ohhh!"
"Th-the dragons have opened their eyes!"
The carbide lamps ignited first, long before the water in the boilers could boil. Their light flooded the dragons' skulls and poured out through the openings: the wish-granting-jewel chandeliers held in the jaws, and the glass eyes.
A flash—
It looked exactly as though sleeping dragons had awakened. The twin eyes of each beast blazed with a near-yellow white light; a brass line set precisely in the center of each pupil recreated the vertical slit of a reptile's gaze in perfect detail. The ministers felt the oppressive weight of living dragons staring them down.
Yet that was only the beginning.
If the dragons' eyes inspired dread, the light that erupted from the jewels in their jaws inspired pure awe.
Thud.
Several elderly ministers collapsed as their legs gave way, yet not a soul dared rebuke the impropriety before the throne—for the Emperor himself sat open-mouthed, gazing at the five-colored radiance of the wish-granting jewels.
While they floundered in astonishment, the second transformation began. Coal and oil fed into the steam engines raised the heat until the boilers boiled furiously. Steam raced through narrow pipes, passed through brass trumpets, and struck thin copper plates of varying sizes within.
A deep, resonant roar rose naturally from inside the dragons' heads.
—Woooooooom.
—Grrrrrrrrr.
The sound created by brass horns and copper plates resonated once more through the hollow skulls before pouring outward—a majestic growl exactly like that of living dragons. Steam escaped through small chimneys at the rear of each head; paper "fur" decorations fluttered in the vapor, completing the illusion of living beasts.
The sharp smell of urine rose as someone, overcome by the dragons' roar, lost control of his bladder. Even Emperor Sungui sat speechless for a long moment before finally turning to Hui-yeom.
"…What exactly have you presented to Us?"
"A steam engine and glass lamps."
Hui-yeom bowed with a radiant smile.
"The power that will move the Empire, and the light that will illuminate it."
"…For such an extraordinary gift, what should We bestow in return?"
"All things under heaven belong to Your Majesty, lord of the myriad people. How could this subject dare demand a price?"
"Speak freely. To receive treasures of this magnitude and offer no proper recompense would be a matter of Our own dignity."
Emperor Sungui delivered the line they had agreed upon in advance. Hui-yeom answered with the reply prepared just as carefully.
"Then, Your Majesty, this subject speaks with the utmost reverence: proclaim before the realm that these inventions were created by our humble house.
So that the sweat and toil of those who bring forth new inventions and new ideas may henceforth receive fair reward in this land, establish by imperial decree the right of patent."
It was an audience that would be remembered for generations—and a dialogue that would be remembered for generations.