Chapter Sixty: Passing the Torch from Generation to Generation

The bronze gears of the Yecheng subterranean palace emitted a lingering hum, and Zhang He’s hand shook slightly as he steadied the heaven-measuring ruler. Wang Wu, an old veteran, crouched on the ground, wiping the carved marks on the ruler’s shaft with the hem of his tunic: "General, this inscription of 'Jingyuan the Second'... was it newly engraved by our Emperor?"

"It is a prophecy left behind by the Mohists two thousand years ago." Zhang He’s fingertips traced the millet-ear pattern at the end of the ruler. "Look at the carving method of this grain of millet—" With a sudden, firm press, a hidden compartment sprang out from the bronze grain. "It is identical to the mortise and tenon of the newly cast curved-shaft plow in Luoyang."

As Wang Wu leaned in for a closer look, the roaring of the Jiang River echoed from the depths of the subterranean palace. Several young soldiers ran over in a panic: "General! The Luoshui River is backflowing into the underground palace!" Yet Zhang He burst into laughter, plunging the heaven-measuring ruler into the drainage channel: "What is there to panic about? This is a hydro-farming channel designed by the Mohists!" The rushing river water was diverted along the bronze conduits, converging beneath everyone's feet into three water-formed characters: "The people are heaven."

The morning mist over the Southern Palace of Luoyang had not yet dissipated, and Sun Ru stood in the corridor holding a medicinal cup. Jia Xu’s coughing echoed from the warm chamber, mingling with Liu Xie’s hoarse voice: "...Tell Zilong, the reclamation of wasteland by the White Horse Cavalry must be carried out according to the Mohist 'three-ditch method'."

"Your Majesty, it is time for your medicine." Sun Ru lifted the curtain and stepped inside, just in time to see Liu Xie carving something into his palm with a dagger. Beads of blood trickled along the gaps between his fingers onto the *Map of the Mountains and Rivers of the Tribute of Yu*, staining "Hulao Pass" a dark red.

Without changing his expression, Liu Xie withdrew his hand. "Does Lady Sun still remember, back in the cellar of the Marquis of Yue's estate..." He suddenly fell into a violent fit of coughing, the bloodstains on his handkerchief turning pitch black. "You said you were going to take My life?"

The medicinal cup clinked softly against the table. Sun Ru’s eyelashes fluttered: "If Your Majesty does not rest now, there will be no need to wait for an assassin to act." Abruptly, she seized Liu Xie’s wrist, where three old scars intersected in the palm to form a divination trigagram. "Last night, the Grand Astrologer read the stars, and the Polaris was dim and obscured..."

"So you cut your wrist to draw blood and extend My life?" Liu Xie counter-gripped her pulse gate, the medicine bottle slipping from his sleeve still stained with dried blood. "The Mohist 'Blood-Guidance Technique' requires trading life for life."

Morning light pierced through the window paper, casting their shadows upon the *Map of Mountains and Rivers*. Sun Ru suddenly gave a soft laugh. "When Your Majesty spared my life back then, wasn't it precisely for this day?" Her fingertips brushed against the scar on Liu Xie’s palm. "What Empress Yin left behind in the underground palace is far more than mere mechanisms."

Amidst the ruins of the River God Temple in Yizhou, Liu Xun was playing a game of go with an old priest. The bronze Go board was engraved with a map of the Minjiang River system, and both the black and white pieces were newly minted Jingyuan Tongbao coins. "The Inspector’s move of 'diverting water to flood the channels' is likely to wash away the River God’s altar." The old priest’s white piece landed on the position of the Feisha Weir.

"The River God should have been replaced a long time ago." Liu Xun’s black piece suddenly severed the water vein. "Look at this new-style sluice gate—" He pointed to the bronze gear rotating in the heart of the river. "The Mohists call it the 'Water-Stabilizing Pivot', while the common people call it the 'Living Dragon King'." Cheers suddenly erupted from the opposite bank as the diverted river currents herded schools of fish into the newly constructed fishery.

The old priest’s fingertips stroked the characters "Jingyuan" on a Go piece: "Back then, Li Bing cast iron oxen to pacify the waters; today, the Inspector casts iron oxen to till the fields, which is far more in accord with the Heavenly Dao." Suddenly, he overturned the Go board, and where the copper coins scattered, they pieced together a Mohist talisman. "Does the Young Lord know what is buried beneath the foundations of this River God Temple?"

A sudden peal of thunder split the river mists, revealing an inscription on a bronze plate beneath the ruins: "In the thirty-sixth year of First Emperor, the Mohists changed the water-pacifying beasts into seed-drills."

Scorched earth outside Hulao Pass had already sprouted tender green shoots. Gan Ning squatted beside a fissure in the earth, scooping up a handful of black oil with Yuan Shao's golden helmet: "This stuff burns way better than firewood!" Behind him, surrendered soldiers were assembling a giant seed-drill, its shaft carved with the characters "Xuanjia Modification".

"General!" A scout galloped over on horseback. "We found this in Yuan Shao's abandoned tent!" The unfurled silk cloth depicted the altar of the Yellow Sky Cult, and the bronze tripod at the center of the array was identical in form to the one in the Yecheng underground palace. Gan Ning’s single eye narrowed: "The crack on the tripod's ear... matches the notch on Lady Sun's dagger!"

Abruptly, he hurled the black oil onto the scorched earth. The instant a flint struck, the fierce flames raced along the patterns of the earth veins, burning out an Eight Trigrams pattern: "Report this immediately to the Emperor! Zhang Jiao's remnants are borrowing the earth's fire..." Before his voice faded, the ground shook violently, and the burning black oil suddenly converged into a fiery tornado.

Three green calyptra plum blossoms suddenly withered in the warm chamber of the Southern Palace, and Jia Xu's silver spoon dropped into the medicinal pot. "Your Majesty! The earth veins at Hulao Pass are in upheaval!" As he rushed into the secret chamber, he saw Liu Xie pressing his bloody palm against the armillary sphere. The blood-stained model of the Luoshui River suddenly changed course, guiding the fiery tornado toward a preset flood-relief channel.

"Not enough..." Liu Xie staggered, supporting himself against the sand table. "Order Zilong to burn all the grain stored for reclamation by the White Horse Cavalry!" Jia Xu's pupils contracted sharply: "That is three hundred thousand *shi* of military provisions!"

"Burn it to ashes and scatter it into the earth veins; it can suppress the subterranean fire for three months." Liu Xie tore off a curtain to wrap his bleeding palm. "Tell Gan Ning to fill Yuan Shao's golden helmet with black oil... That is the 'earth-core blood' left behind by the Mohists."

Sun Ru suddenly burst through the window, her gilt-plated dagger pinning down the collapsing model of Yecheng: "How much longer does Your Majesty intend to keep this hidden?" She tore open the front of her gown, where a Mohist tattoo on her chest was oozing beads of blood. "Back then, to protect Emperor Guangwu, the art Empress Yin used was none other than this 'Blood-Pacifying Mountains and Rivers' technique!"

In the twilight by the Yizhou riverbank, Liu Xun was leading men to excavate the foundations of the temple. The inscription on the bronze plate emerged under the light: "The Mohists changed the water-pacifying beasts into seed-drills not to hide from Qin, but because the starvation of the people was far worse than the calamity of river dragons." The old priest suddenly dropped to his knees in bitter tears, his prayer beads scattering across the ground: "To think that the secret my ancestors guarded for two hundred years... was nothing more than a scam!"

"It is no scam." Liu Xun helped the old man up, pointing toward the rotating Water-Stabilizing Pivot in the center of the river. "The Mohists transformed the divine power of water-pacifying into a sharp tool for farming the fields." On the opposite bank, fires suddenly flared as the populace forged new plows out of abandoned armor. When the molten iron was poured into clay molds inscribed with "Jingyuan Eternal Prosperity", it projected a phantom image of a seed-drill into the air.

The hoofbeats of a courier broke the twilight: "Lord Inspector! An urgent dispatch from Luoshui!" The blood-stained silk cloth depicted an incomplete Eight Trigrams diagram, alongside which was scrawled hastily: "The Emperor is critically ill, return at once!"

The bronze seed-drill in the Yecheng underground palace suddenly began to operate on its own. Zhang He watched as wheat seeds fell with precision into the channel, suddenly recalling the porridge stalls on the outskirts of Luoyang. "General, this... how is this wheat sprouting in the bronze troughs?" Wang Wu's exclamation carried a tremor of sound.

"It is the Mohist hydro-farming technique." Zhang He scooped up a handful of channel water shimmering with a golden glow. "Living water mixed with Wenshan cinnabar can accelerate the ripening of the five grains." Abruptly, he unbuckled his side sword and thrust it into the mechanism. Amidst the roaring of gears, the entire underground palace transformed into a colossal sowing machine. Wheat seedlings broke through the earth at a speed visible to the naked eye, climbing the bronze walls to form the three green characters: "The people are heaven."

"To Luoshui!" Zhang He suddenly snapped off a spike of grain. "Deliver this ear of grain to His Majesty... perhaps it can extend his life..."

The night in the Southern Palace was so thick it seemed it could not be dissolved. Sun Ru pressed her Mohist tattoo against Liu Xie's chest. The fourteenth green calyptra plum blossom was withering, its petals producing bloody foam as they fell into the medicinal cup. "Does Your Majesty know why Empress Yin died in the prime of her youth?" Her tears, mingling with beads of blood, dripped onto Liu Xie's neck. "Back then, she used the blood from the very tip of her heart..."

"So you wanted to trade your life to extend Mine?" Liu Xie suddenly opened his eyes, seizing her tattooed wrist. "The Mohist 'passing down of the torch' transmits the hearts of the people, not the life of an emperor!" He coughed violently, pointing out the window. The endless lights stretching beyond Luoshui City looked like the Milky Way fallen to earth—it was the common people spontaneously holding up torches, keeping vigil through the night for the newly cast monument of the Jingyuan plow.

Jia Xu burst in holding the golden ears of grain sent from Yecheng: "Your Majesty! Zhang He has grown... has grown..." His voice cut off abruptly. Liu Xie's hand slipped from Sun Ru's wrist, the bloodstains on his palm spreading across the *Map of Mountains and Rivers*, precisely completing the missing trigram of Hulao Pass.

A thunderbolt split the night sky, and a torrential rain poured down. The burning subterranean fire was suddenly extinguished. New shoots broke through the earth outside Hulao Pass, the "Jingyuan" watermark on their tender leaves clearly visible in the lightning flashes. Standing upon the scorched earth, Gan Ning watched the surrendered soldiers drink their fill of rainwater caught in golden helmets, suddenly recalling what Liu Xie had once said:

"The fiercest fire under this heaven is the look in the eyes of the common people yearning to live."