[Lightscreen]
[ Xuanzang may well have been the first figure in history to truly embody the idea of "learning from the barbarians in order to surpass them."
After the great Buddhist debate at Kannauj, Mahayana Buddhism honored Xuanzang as a being who had attained the Great Right Path, calling him "Heavenly Man of the Mahayana."
Theravāda Buddhism, in turn, revered him as one who had achieved liberation, calling him "Heavenly Man of Liberation."
Within Nalanda Monastery, the monks acknowledged that Xuanzang had mastered all three divisions of Buddhist learning—sutra, vinaya, and śāstra—and bestowed upon him the title of Tripiṭaka Master.
Because he was a man of Tang, he was also called Tang Tripiṭaka.
At that time, throughout all of India, there were only nine such masters.
Before Xuanzang departed to return to Tang, his teacher—Tripiṭaka Śīlabhadra—was already nearly a hundred years old.
Śīlabhadra hoped Xuanzang would succeed him and take charge of Nalanda itself.
In modern terms, he wanted Xuanzang to become its CEO.
Xuanzang refused.
The monks of Nalanda gathered to persuade him.
"India is the land where the Buddha was born.
To tour it and pay homage would fulfill a lifetime.
As for the land of China—
it is a barbarous place that belittles people and despises the Dharma.
What worth is there in remembering it at all?"
The meaning was obvious.
India was the Buddha's homeland.
Most who came never wished to leave.
So why would Xuanzang insist on returning?
At the time, the term "China" carried no inherent insult.
The contempt lay in the word mleccha—a Sanskrit term meaning savage or barbarian—which was used to describe Tang as a land that scorned people and despised the Law.
Xuanzang's reply was calm.
He affirmed India's Buddhist learning.
He rejected the monks' prejudice.
And he concluded with a quiet reflection:
"Riding side by side on the long road,
who can say what the end will be?
How can one claim that where the Buddha does not go
must therefore be treated with contempt?"
In simpler terms:
Let us walk and see.Let us walk and see.
Who can say which will stand higher in the end?Who can say which will stand higher in the end?
How can one look down on a place simply because it is said to lack the Dharma?
Xuanzang returned to Tang in the nineteenth year of Zhenguan.
At that time, his sworn brother Qu Wentai had been destroyed for four years, and the Emperor—working tirelessly to secure the Western Regions—immediately grasped Xuanzang's importance.
Xuanzang was brought to Chang'an and given his first task:
To record, in full, everything he had seen along the way.
The result was Records of the Western Regions of the Great Tang.
The book detailed geography, customs, and peoples.
Xuanzang barely mentioned himself.
What he saw, he recorded objectively.
There was no sentiment, no embellishment.
In 646, the book was completed.
In 657, the Western Turkic Khaganate—which had once hosted Xuanzang and even escorted him toward India—was destroyed.
From that point on, Tang armies advancing westward met no true rival.
It is therefore not unreasonable to suspect that when Emperor Taizong received this book, he was delighted—and promptly forwarded it to the military staff as essential reading for governing the Western Regions.
One detail within the book was particularly striking.
Xuanzang divided the world into Four Lords:
The Eastern Realm — the Lord of Men
A land of benevolence and righteousness, swift customs and bright governance.
This was clearly Tang.
The Southern Realm — the Lord of Elephants
A land steeped in mystical arts, capable of cleansing the heart and easing burdens.
The "arts" referred to Buddhism itself—the very reason Xuanzang traveled there—to extract its essence and adorn the flourishing Tang.
The Western Realm — the Lord of Treasures
A people without ritual or righteousness, valuing wealth above all, rich in precious goods.
This referred to the Sassanian Persian Empire, founded by Ardashir—the "Light of the Third Century," the so-called King of Kings, after the fall of Parthia.
The Northern Realm — the Lord of Horses
A fierce people, their cold lands ideal for horse breeding.
Geographically, this referred to the Western Turks, destroyed ten years after Xuanzang's return.
The Records were dictated by Xuanzang and written by the monk Bianji.
Bianji became famous overnight.
Later, he would be executed—beheaded by imperial order—for an affair with Princess Gaoyang, wife of Fang Yizhi.
In modern times, India—having been conquered again and again—lost much of its own historical memory.
As a result, Records of the Western Regions became the most authoritative source for medieval Indian history.
A century ago, British colonists lamented:
"The history of medieval India is pitch-black. Xuanzang is the only light."
Many Indian ruins, including Nalanda itself, were excavated according to Xuanzang's descriptions.
Even the four lions of India's national emblem originate from Ashoka's pillar—rediscovered using Xuanzang's records.
Xuanzang could never have imagined that his casual words—
"Riding side by side on the long road, who can say what lies ahead?"
—would be fulfilled over a thousand years later.]
The hall studied the three monks recorded on the screen.
One had never returned during chaotic times.
That, at least, was understandable.
In an age of turmoil, survival came first.
To remain in India and enjoy the peace of monastic life was not an unforgivable choice.
The second, however, drew sharp criticism.
"If India is the center," Wei Zheng said coldly,
"then where does that place the Central Plains? China? Xia?
Such thinking deserves execution."
He continued, voice hard:
"What is 'center'? It is the middle.
To claim India as China is to deny Huaxia.
That is betrayal of virtue and ancestors alike."
Wei Zheng now understood perfectly what a "spiritual Indian monk" was—and despised it from the heart.
If India was truly China, why remain in Tang at all?
With the Western Regions open, why not flee there outright instead of insulting one's own country?
And the later slander—calling Tang mleccha—only deepened the court's frowns.
"This India truly knows no shame," someone muttered.
Emperor Taizong, already burdened by worries of succession and future strife, finally exploded.
"A petty foreign land, arrogant beyond measure!
A caste-enslaved people dare call Tang 'despisers of men and law'?"
"Conquered eleven times, yet still claiming to be the center?
No martial strength, no courage—one day they will answer for this!"
Ministers hurried to calm him, fearing another attack of his chronic headaches.
Still, none of them felt goodwill toward India.
After all, the Lightscreen had already shown that even in later ages, India would stir trouble—only to be beaten back into submission.
Someone thought silently:
Why not just conquer it ourselves?
Among the ministers, an unspoken consensus formed.
As for Xuanzang, Emperor Taizong offered only one word of judgment:
"Good."
The western campaigns had succeeded through imperial decision—but Xuanzang's intelligence and records had been invaluable.
Taizong knew this clearly.
And so, for the Xuanzang who had not yet begun his journey, the emperor instantly devised several plans.
One man traveling west alone was too dangerous.
He should be escorted—by ten, perhaps twenty elite guards.
Yet choosing the right men posed a problem.
Taizong did not believe in Buddhism—but he knew how persuasive it could be.
The last thing he wanted was to send out a reconnaissance team and end up accidentally training a squad of devout temple guardians.
Lost in thought, he was jolted back by Changsun Wuji.
Looking up, he saw Fang Xuanling—face pale, eyes full of hope.
One glance at the screen was enough.
Taizong's expression turned as though he had swallowed a fly.
He valued Fang Xuanling deeply.
Seeing later generations honor Fang and Du together had only strengthened that regard.
Thus the daughter he married off must have been dearly cherished—so as to reflect imperial favor.
Yet she met such an end.
Taizong shook his head and declared firmly:
"This will not happen again."
In the Chengdu prefectural hall, opinion was unified:
Only Xuanzang deserved praise.
"Have you not heard of Su Wu's integrity?" someone said.
That alone settled the question of return.
Zhuge Liang, however, focused on a foreign name.
"Third century…" he murmured.
"Is that not our own time?"
"If what the Screen said earlier about Rome is true," Pang Tong added,
"then Parthia's fall is likely imminent."
Pang Tong shook his head.
"'King of Kings'?
A century is a hundred years—does this Ardashir truly deserve to be the light of one?"
Zhang Fei scratched his head.
"Better than the strategist shining for a thousand years?"
"Go away," Pang Tong waved him off, then grew thoughtful.
"If we reopen the Western Regions," he said,
"we may one day deal with this King of Kings ourselves."
"I wonder what sort of man he is."
[Lightscreen]
[Xuanzang's story would continue to circulate among the people for centuries.
By the Ming dynasty, when the Jiajing Emperor obsessed over Daoism and the court followed suit, the atmosphere grew unbearable.
Wu Cheng'en resigned in anger and compiled folk legends into Journey to the West—mocking Buddhism, Daoism, and Ming officialdom alike.
But that is another story.
Early Tang could not foresee how Buddhism would later affect the Li dynasty.
At the time, Emperor Taizong faced a far more immediate and dangerous problem:
The lingering struggle between Guandong and Guanzhong elites—
a legacy of centuries of slaughter since the Wei–Jin era.]