"Come—say hello to our Mother Earth."
For everyone gathered in the Chengdu Prefectural Office and the Ganlu Hall, what they witnessed today was destined to linger in their memories for the rest of their lives.
Even at the moment their souls returned to heaven and earth, they suspected they would still remember the shock of first seeing that blue planet.
In the Chengdu Prefectural Office, no one could remain seated.
Zhang Fei grabbed Wei Yan and hauled him upright, slapping his shoulders and back with all his strength. His chest felt as if something hot and turbulent were surging inside.
It was exhilaration—seeing what the ancients had never seen.
Awe—realizing how vast heaven and earth truly were.
Unease—knowing that it was so, yet not understanding why.
Wonder at the later generations.
And pride—deep, undeniable pride in what future sons and daughters of Huaxia had achieved.
The emotions were so tangled that Zhang Fei desperately wanted to shout them out—but he didn't know how.
The feelings surged to his throat, yet refused to turn into words.
So he could only keep pounding Wei Yan's back with one hand, pointing wildly at the glowing screen with the other, blurting out incoherent sounds like "Ah—ah—!" without ever managing a complete sentence.
Wei Yan wasn't any better.
His arm turned red from Zhang Fei's slaps, yet he still felt unsatisfied.
Finally, he grabbed the tea bowl from the table, shoved one into Zhang Fei's hand as well, and tilted his head back, gulping it down like wine.
Zhang Fei followed suit.
Once the tea went down, the storm inside him finally settled enough for a sentence to escape.
"So we've been fighting each other to the death…"
"…on a ball this small."
Nearby, Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and the others had already abandoned their seats, crowding together beneath the screen just to get closer—to see more clearly.
They pressed together in a chaotic cluster.
Zhang Song hopped in place.
Zhuge Liang, taller than the rest, simply craned his neck from the side.
Voices overlapped from every direction:
"The strength of the sons of Huaxia truly has no bounds! Only now do we know that heaven is endless—and earth is finite!"
"This must be drawn! When I return to Nanyang, I shall offer this image of Earth to Zhang Heng as a sacrifice!"
"Wrong—utterly wrong! All of it wrong!"
"If the earth is a sphere, then where is up? Where is down? Is north south, and south north? Were the Four Directions all mistaken?"
"Why does this Earth not fall? And what holds it suspended within the heavens?"
"And this Heavenly Palace—what is it? How can it float at the very summit of the sky? Is it built upon the ruins of an ancient Celestial Court?"
"So those white things on Earth are clouds? To think they look like that…"
Questions collided with exclamations.
The image before them answered what the world looked like—yet in doing so, birthed even more mysteries.
These questions, however, were destined to remain unanswered.
And so, gradually, the Chengdu Prefectural Office fell quiet again.
Everyone returned to their desks.
Each took up a brush, trying desperately to record every detail they had seen—some sketching with meticulous strokes, others pouring ink into words.
Though it was only a single image, every stroke felt unbearably heavy.
As they wrote and drew, heads lifted again and again, eyes drawn back to that blue planet.
How beautiful it was.
Zhuge Liang worked to reconstruct the Heavenly Palace from his fleeting glimpse, and still found time to speak with Liu Bei.
"No wonder later generations always speak of a navy. When one sees how vast the oceans are from above, only a force guarding the seas can truly repel enemies."
Liu Bei nodded as he wrote, his voice full of envy.
"If only one could visit that Heavenly Palace in person."
Zhuge Liang's brush paused.
He recalled the countless disciplines required for spaceflight as described earlier—and felt his head swell.
Then Zhuangzi's words surfaced unbidden:
"Life is finite. Knowledge is infinite."
Pang Tong understood that feeling all too well and sighed.
"The more one knows, the more one realizes one knows nothing."
Liu Bei burst out laughing, clapping his hands to lift the mood.
"Why should the strategist feel disheartened? Even this towering tree grew from a tiny sprout over thousands of years in our land."
"The sages of the Hundred Schools would envy us this moment. We must pile the soil now, and build a nine-story terrace for our descendants!"
In the Ganlu Hall, the busiest man was without question Yan Liben.
At his side lay sketches in various states of abandonment:
An outline of the Eastern Wind Express.
A few strokes hinting at a future library.
A half-finished drawing of the Nanhai No. 1.
A rough outline of Tao Chengdao.
And, drawn in sheer desperation with inked fingers, a crude sketch labeled "Heavenly Palace."
There was no finishing them all.
They were pushed aside.
Now, with reverence, Yan Liben focused entirely on one thing—carefully reproducing the Earth, the "Mother," stroke by stroke.
Changsun Wuji stood beside him, grinding ink with perfect timing.
Li Shimin could no longer restrain himself. He strode forward, nearly pressing his face to the screen to examine every detail.
Yan Liben immediately shouted in protest.
"Your Majesty—don't block the view!"
Embarrassed, Li Shimin retreated with an awkward laugh, then exclaimed loudly:
"Later generations truly are worthy sons of the Tang!"
Pride swelled unmistakably in his chest.
The Tang had drawn the great clans into the capital and wiped them out in one stroke—only then had the "wisdom of the common people" been unleashed.
Only then could humanity dive into the seas and ask questions of heaven.
By that reckoning, didn't the Tang deserve at least a share of the first merit?
Fang Xuanling murmured to himself,
"So the canopy and shell theories were all wrong? The theory of infinite void seems closer… but how could the earth be a sphere?"
"The infinite void says the sun, moon, and stars float naturally in empty space—yet I never imagined the earth itself floats as well."
Du Ruhui nodded, still troubled.
"But how can it be a sphere?"
"What we inhabit is only a corner of that sphere. The world is vast—what we know is scarcely one or two parts in ten…"
Wei Zheng compared the image to the maps in the hall, finally grasping how large the Tang realm truly was.
After exchanging looks with Fang and Du, he sighed as well.
"How can it be a sphere?"
The same doubts stirring in Zhuge Liang's heart now echoed among the ministers.
Li Shimin, however, was thinking of something else.
He studied the screen, eyes narrowing.
"These later generations speak of reaching heaven with such solemnity—nearly exhausting the strength of an entire nation."
His eyes widened.
"Has even the heavens become a battleground?"
Li Jing followed his train of thought.
"If later ages call the seas territory, then this vast sky must also be territory. Is that why they built the Heavenly Palace—to guard against enemies?"
Li Shiji frowned.
"But there seems to be nothing else like it nearby. What enemy are they guarding against?"
Fang, Du, and Wei considered it briefly.
Wei Zheng joked,
"Enemies from beyond the heavens, perhaps?"
Li Shimin's brow tightened.
Li Jing pondered the Eastern Wind Express, then carefully chose his words.
"Could… conflicts within this sphere be settled using such a thing?"
The narration answered.
"From bowing as slaves to rising with raised banners; from generations of exploitation to becoming masters of our own fate.
Today, the journey of ordinary people is toward the stars and the seas."
Li Shimin's heart clenched.
His suspicions hardened into certainty.
And yet, that single line filled him with longing.
We fight tooth and nail on the ground… and they speak of stars and oceans.
At the same time, a sharp sense of inadequacy surged up.
Compared to such achievements, his pride as a 'sage emperor of a thousand ages' felt like a grain of sand in the sea.
No wonder later generations despised parasitic aristocrats.
No wonder they cared little for kings and nobles.
Only now did Li Shimin truly begin to understand their mindset.
Li Jing and Li Shiji trembled slightly—excitement, exhilaration, and above all, pride.
Look. These are descendants of the same source as us.
Li Jing felt a deep ache.
If only he could stand beside them, guarding them.
The narration continued.
"And on the journey to the stars and seas, we have never forgotten.
Never forgotten those pioneers who devoted their lives to this arduous path."
The pace slowed.
The image rotated.
A small, brilliant moon entered the frame.
Then—suddenly—the view rushed forward.
The Chengdu Prefectural Office erupted again.
Even Wei Yan sprang to his feet, craning his neck.
The moon! The Taiyin!
Would they finally glimpse an immortal realm?
What of the jade rabbit?
The moon goddess?
The lunar palace?
The anticipation shattered instantly.
As the view closed in, the moon's glow faded—revealing only a gray surface riddled with craters.
It felt as if someone had smashed everyone's heart onto the floor.
Zhuge Liang pressed his lips together.
"I did not expect a moon goddess… but this Taiyin…"
"It's ugly!" Zhang Fei declared, voicing everyone's thoughts.
The narration ignored them.
"On the far side of the Moon are five craters named after pioneers."
The image rotated, labels appearing one by one.
Two names were instantly familiar to those in Chengdu.
"Shi Shen—author of the Star Canon. Naturally," Zhuge Liang said, a little envious.
"Zhang Heng… of the Han?" Pang Tong stared.
He had planned to burn a copy of the Earth's image as an offering to Zhang Heng.
Who knew the man already had his name etched on the moon?
Barely a century separated them in time.
Thinking of his own early death, Pang Tong felt a sting in his chest.
Zhang Fei finally understood.
"A temple… in the sky?!"
His envy was unrestrained.
This was leagues beyond anything on the ground.
Was it too late to start studying astronomy?
Li Shimin stared fixedly at the crater named "Wan Hu."
A note appeared:
"Original name: Tao Chengdao. Posthumously titled Wan Hu. The world's first aerospace pioneer."
For the first time, Li Shimin felt a touch of dissatisfaction.
A thought crept into his mind.
If we find the gunpowder formula… should I imitate this Wan Hu and claim the name first?
Dangerous, certainly.
But a name on the moon…
Was it worth it?
Li Shimin fell into deep contemplation.