Chapter Nine: The Underground Palace

The true relic of the Buddha’s authentic body reappeared in the world, enough to dominate the most prominent front-page headline in any media outlet. Swarming crowds surrounded the entire Great Ci’en Temple, leaving no room to spare. Overwhelmed by the countless flashing cameras, Gu Anqi, thrust into the spotlight as the overseas donor, was already dizzy and disoriented.

Gu Anqi was inherently simple and honest, utterly unable to respond fluently before the eloquent reporters. Fortunately, I stood by her side, skillfully deflecting and shielding her from the barrage of questions, managing to get us through the ordeal.

“Donor, regarding your donation of the Buddha’s true relic, do you have any specific requests?” Master Mingyuan inquired.

“Re... requests...” Gu Anqi finally regained her composure. “Oh, I want it to be placed in the underground palace!”

“The underground palace?” Gu Anqi’s straightforward answer surprised even Master Mingyuan.

“Master, Miss Gu means she wishes to enshrine the Buddha’s true relic in the underground palace. Miss Gu has always held Buddhist culture in great reverence, especially knowing that the relics of Master Xuanzang are also kept in your temple’s underground palace. This time, she hopes to pay her respects as well,” I quickly explained.

“The underground palace is a sacred place of our temple and is not easily opened. However, donor, your great merit is immeasurable. Today, I shall reopen the underground palace to fulfill your wish,” the old monk said solemnly.

“Master, the Buddha saves all who are destined to be saved. Since the underground palace is opened today, the visitors inside the temple are also destined ones. Buddhism teaches equality in salvation for all beings. Since we are allowed entry, I hope other visitors in the temple can enter as well,” Qiuno said very earnestly.

I quickly understood Qiuno’s intention. If only a few of them entered, any actions would be conspicuous. But with many visitors inside, the chance of drawing attention would be greatly reduced.

Master Mingyuan nodded, clasped his hands together calmly, and said, “What the donor says is correct. Our Buddha is compassionate and saves thousands of believers without discrimination. Today, all donors present in the temple shall be allowed to enter the underground palace.”

After a solemn ceremony, the underground palace was opened. Visitors entered in an orderly queue. Gu Anqi’s importance was great, and with Master Mingyuan personally accompanying her, I arranged for Yue Qianling to stay with Gu Anqi.

Qiuno and I mingled among the other visitors. Since our time inside would not be long, I urged Gu Anqi to delay as much as possible. If this opportunity was missed, it was unlikely they would enter again.

The pristine condition of the Great Ci’en Temple’s underground palace was beyond my expectations. It consisted of brick steps, tunnels, an antechamber, a central chamber, and a rear chamber, all built entirely of stone, with four stone doors in total.

“Qiuno, it seems all the structures here are almost exactly as they were when first built, showing no signs of renovation,” I said, looking at the blue bricks beneath my feet and the walls.

“The underground palace is remarkably well preserved. Aside from a few areas showing reinforcement, it has basically maintained its original form,” Qiuno nodded.

“Then this is strange. The underground palace was built during the Tang Dynasty and, since there are no records of reconstruction during the Ming Dynasty, how could Zhu Yuanzhang have left clues here?” I asked in astonishment.

Qiuno had no other discoveries inside the underground palace either. When we reached the rear chamber, where Master Xuanzang’s relics were enshrined, its architecture was peculiar. Its style clearly did not resemble Tang Dynasty construction. Qiuno, well-versed in Tang culture, whispered to me as soon as we entered.

“The layout and style here clash with the rest of the underground palace. I have an inexplicable feeling of strangeness.”

The rear chamber was a circular room, with Xuanzang’s relics enshrined against the wall. Like the rest of the underground palace, it lacked elaborate decoration, giving an impression of elegant simplicity.

“The underground palace was built during the Tang Dynasty. Subsequent emperors came to pay homage and offer worship. In the seventh year of the Hongwu era, Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang ordered repairs due to water seepage in the rear chamber. This was the first time since Xuanzang’s relic was enshrined that it had been moved,” Master Mingyuan explained to Gu Anqi. “Donor Gu, the rear chamber you see now was also renovated in the seventh year of the Hongwu era.”

I exchanged a glance with Qiuno upon hearing Master Mingyuan’s explanation. Zhu Yuanzhang had indeed been here. The claim of water seepage repairs was likely a pretext. Removing Xuanzang’s relics would have allowed only Zhu Yuanzhang’s men inside the underground palace, surely harboring some hidden secret.

Examining the layout and furnishings of the rear chamber, I noticed a route map carved onto a blue stone slab in the center. It depicted the path taken by Master Xuanzang during his westward journey to obtain scriptures. Beside it was an inscription.

“The Sacred Monk’s Westward Journey Map.”

I studied the stone map for a long time but found nothing unusual. Many such maps exist, commemorating Xuanzang’s pilgrimage.

However, a slightly recessed square area at the bottom of the inscription piqued my curiosity.

“Master, may I ask about this blank space?” I inquired.

“This was carved by Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang after renovating the rear chamber and bears the inscription ‘Sacred Monk’s Westward Journey Map.’ However, the reason for the blank space below has always been a mystery,” Master Mingyuan said calmly.

Qiuno gently touched the smooth, recessed square and sensed it was meant to hold something.

“Don’t speculate. I know what should be here!” I suddenly smiled and whispered.

“What is it?”

“What did ancient people do after inscribing words?” I countered.

“A seal!” Qiuno answered.

“Hehe, it’s the imperial jade seal. Don’t forget, this inscription was bestowed by Zhu Yuanzhang.”

“Then... why is this space blank?”

I smiled meaningfully.

“Even emperors need identification. Don’t you know Zhu Yuanzhang was a ‘blacklisted’ emperor all his life?”

“Qiuno, don’t listen to his nonsense. Actually, Zhu Yuanzhang never had the imperial jade seal!” Yue Qianling approached, having overheard our conversation.

“How could that be? He was a great emperor. How could he lack the jade seal?” Qiuno asked, puzzled.

“This was Zhu Yuanzhang’s greatest regret. Though he eventually rose to supreme power, he lacked the imperial jade seal to legitimize his authority. He could have carved a new one, but essentially, it was incomparable to the original imperial seal,” Yue Qianling, who studied archaeology, explained with more expertise than Qiuno.

“I’m confused. What’s the difference between the imperial jade seal and a jade seal?” Qiuno asked.

“Do you know the Heshibi?” I suddenly asked.

“Of course I do,” Qiuno replied.

“The imperial jade seal, also called the ‘Seal of the Nation,’ was passed down by emperors after Qin Shi Huang. It was carved by order of Qin Shi Huang from the Heshibi jade, measuring four inches square with a round knob decorated with five intertwined dragons. The front bore eight characters written by Li Si: ‘Mandated by Heaven, may it endure forever,’ symbolizing the divine right and legitimate authority of the emperor,” I said in a low voice.

Yue Qianling nodded and continued.

“Every emperor regarded this seal as a divine token, a national treasure. To possess it meant the emperor was mandated by Heaven; to lose it signified the end of their mandate. Those who ascended the throne without it were ridiculed as ‘blank emperors,’ lacking legitimacy and scorned by all. This led to fierce struggles among contenders for the throne, causing the seal to change hands many times, disappearing and reappearing during the Later Tang period, only to vanish entirely with no trace to this day.”

“Oh, I understand now. Zhu Yuanzhang lacked the imperial jade seal when he ascended the throne, so before the Buddha’s relics, he felt illegitimate, hence leaving the blank space,” Qiuno exclaimed in sudden realization.

“On the contrary, Zhu Yuanzhang left this blank space with even deeper meaning,” I said enigmatically.

“...” Qiuno thought for a moment, then looked up. “Could this… be Zhu Yuanzhang’s clue?”

“Yes. He deliberately left the blank space for someone to return the jade seal here.”

“But the imperial jade seal has been lost for so long. Where would we find it?” Yue Qianling complained.

“It doesn’t have to be the original imperial jade seal. Zhu Yuanzhang only needed to pass down his own jade seal. He could replicate a perfect copy based on the imperial seal’s design. Remember, he left the Ming Tombs for his descendants, so the seal should have remained with the Zhu family heirs.”

“That’s a good idea, but he probably didn’t expect that the Ming Dynasty would be overthrown by the Qing, and the seal’s whereabouts would now be unknown,” Yue Qianling shook her head in disappointment.

I uncapped a bottle of water, glanced around to ensure no one was watching, and pretended to accidentally spill the water on the floor. The rear chamber’s structure seemed very regular; logically, the water should have remained still. However, the spilled water slowly flowed toward the southeast corner, clearly seeping into the wall’s base.

“I said it felt strange upon entering—this rear chamber is uneven, sloping downward from west to east.”

“Water seeping in means there’s a hollow behind the southeast corner. There’s a hidden place in this underground palace. Zhu Yuanzhang must have dug anew here when renovating!” I said calmly.

“Even if we know that, how can we get in? I heard Master Mingyuan say the walls of the rear chamber were built with three-meter-wide granite blocks interlocked to prevent water seepage. It shows how painstakingly Zhu Yuanzhang tried to conceal this secret. Such thick granite today would be nearly impossible to blast open, not to mention that no one would dare use explosives inside the underground palace.”

“Zhu Yuanzhang must have left a hidden mechanism to open the secret chamber.”

“Where is this mechanism, then?”

I looked at the recessed blank space and smiled wryly.

“Find the imperial jade seal, and the secret chamber will open.”

“That’s not too difficult nowadays. Modern craftsmanship could easily replicate the seal,” Qiuno said with a glimmer of hope.

I shook my head helplessly.

“I just examined the recessed area. It’s loose beneath, but the mechanism used here is common in tomb protection—it’s called the ‘ten-jin weight’! This means the object placed here must meet a specified weight to activate the mechanism. Too light or too heavy won’t work. While we can replicate the seal’s size perfectly, what about its weight? So, we must find the original!”