Lace Glory Universe King GL - Chapter 22

The rabbit that had suddenly appeared led Wu Zetian to a spring.

“Little rabbit, where are you going?” The empress’s tone, when speaking to the rabbit, actually became unexpectedly cute.

The jade rabbit raised its head, moved its lips slightly, then bounded over the spring and disappeared into the grass.

Wu Zetian looked upward. Suspended hundreds of feet above the spring was the spire of an octagonal tower, far taller than the surrounding halls.

Flying up to it was no great difficulty. She gathered her sphere of authority, released it toward the ground, and the immense counterforce propelled her straight upward—wind swirled into a small vortex around her, strands of hair streaming wildly as she drew closer and closer to the octagonal tower.

Just as she neared the top, a wave of dizziness washed over her, a sensation like weightlessness. She instinctively closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was already standing before the tower, the clear sky beneath her feet, clouds like low-hanging blossoms, and above her, the spring and green meadow she had just left.

On the tall building hung a plaque inscribed with four large characters: Lingwa Shrine. Clearly, the little rabbit had more than a touch of intelligence.

Inside, the shrine was empty. Faint celestial music drifted about, but so indistinct that one could not tell its source.

“May I ask if Lady Nüwa is within? Wu of Heluo humbly seeks an audience.” Wu Zetian lowered her bearing and called out. No reply came, nor did any attendants of the goddess appear.

She looked about—indeed, the hall was deserted—so she had no choice but to ascend the stairs to the next level.

Thus she climbed, until reaching the top floor of the tower, where at last she beheld Nüwa’s true form. Just as ten years ago, she radiated golden light, suspended in midair, arms crossed before her chest, a half-mask obscuring part of her face, making her seem mysterious and deaf to intruders. Around her, rectangular blocks shimmered and flickered, releasing crystalline tones.

“Wu of Heluo bows before the Creator.”

No sooner had she spoken than a peal of bright laughter rang out.

“That is only a statue of the Creator. The one you seek is here.” Nüwa emerged from behind a pillar, a great golden canopy above her like the midday sun, filling the shrine with dazzling radiance.

Wu Zetian suppressed her irritation. She had endured the discomfort of inverted space, climbed seven stories, and even saluted a mere statue. Truly a loss of imperial dignity.

“Creator, it has been long since you last visited Ziwei Palace.”

Nüwa arched a brow. “When we first met, it seemed the empress was not so welcoming.”

“Our first meeting was marked with offense. But now, for you to grant me this audience, it shows your magnanimity.” A smile spread in Wu Zetian’s eyes. As long as Nüwa remembered that event, it was not beyond repair.

“I, too, know how to treat a guest.” Seeing that dazzling smile upon Wu Zetian’s flawless face, Nüwa’s heart softened slightly. She waved her hand.

Attendants appeared out of nowhere, carrying trays of fine wines and delicacies to set upon the long table by the window.

Outside, the inverted heaven stretched in all its strange beauty—clouds drifting just beyond reach, the pavilions and towers of divine priests extending into the distance like a city above the sky.

The goddess and the empress sat at opposite ends of the long table.

A splendid view, cups brimming with wine, two radiant figures facing each other—splendor upon splendor.

Nüwa’s cosmic perception far exceeded that of other deities; she surely knew the empress’s purpose in coming. So Wu Zetian was in no hurry, leisurely savoring the hospitality of the realm, praising it with every sip.

“Along the way, this paradise revealed endless wonders—every tree, every blade of grass imbued with divine brilliance. Even a mere rabbit could guide me to clarity, as though it read my very thoughts. Truly marvelous.”

Nüwa did not ask her true intent. If she wished, she could perceive it instantly. “None come to the shrine without cause,” she thought, “let us see how long she can endure.” Instead, she returned the flattery.

“This shrine is not for everyone to tread. The empress’s power is indeed unmatched in the mortal realm.”

“You jest, Creator. I merely managed to endure. Tell me, how long will this dizziness from the inversion last?” Wu Zetian touched her brow.

“Fear not. By the time we’ve shared this meal, it will have faded. Come, a toast.”

They drank together. Nüwa pressed cup after cup upon her, so that while the dizziness had not yet passed, intoxication overtook her. At last, Nüwa summoned attendants to escort Wu Zetian to rest.

When Wu Zetian awoke, the skies beneath the shrine had deepened into indigo and violet—it was already dusk.

Dinner was once again a lavish feast of wines and dishes, served in silver and crystal. Attendants arranged the table within her chamber and were about to withdraw, when Wu Zetian stopped them.

“Will Lady Nüwa not dine with me?”

“The mistress has gone out visiting, and bid us look after you. Call on us if you need anything.”

She had not come here to lodge like some guest. Facing even the finest fare, Wu Zetian now had no appetite.

She resolved: once Nüwa returned, she would speak of her plea. If Nüwa intended to leave her waiting, then so be it. With that, she finally sat at the table.

But Nüwa did not return that night.

For the first time, Wu Zetian experienced the torment of “longing” for another’s return.

It was retribution, perhaps. In Ziwei Palace she had granted her favor to many, but phrases like “sleepless for your sake” were things she had only ever heard, never felt. Now she tasted them herself.

The second day, and the third, still no sign of Nüwa.

Wu Zetian wandered out in search, only to find many shrines barred to her, and nearly lost her way.

Not until the fourth day did Nüwa return leisurely to the shrine gates.

Wu Zetian’s heart leapt as though reunited after long absence. Entering together, she was about to speak of serious matters, but Nüwa struck first.

“Ah—I haven’t been idle away from home. I know you come seeking aid. As for Sikong Zhen, I have seen enough. But your Heluo affairs are not mine to manage. You know the rules of this inverted heaven—we do not meddle in mortal disputes. Even hosting you here these days requires explanation to the others.”

She had gone off to amuse herself with Chang’e, leaving the empress to stew, thinking it was lesson enough. Even if one could not taste the sweetest fruit, a morsel was still a morsel; better to stop at satisfaction. But aid—when she extended her universal sight, she knew she could not intervene.

“I understand the rules of the inverted heaven,” Wu Zetian replied. “But once in Ziwei Palace, you said: ‘Unless the entire Land of Kings is threatened, the highest of creation must not take sides in human quarrels.’ Do you recall?” She had anticipated this point.

That Wu Zetian remembered her words exactly startled Nüwa.

“I recall.”

“Sikong Zhen replacing me with a mechanism puppet is not merely his ambition against mine. That demonstone holds a perilous secret—its power can be poured wholly into a single vessel. Then Sikong Zhen would become the strongest hero in the world, beyond even the gods to withstand. Does this not threaten the entire Land of Kings?”

“The stone has ever been guarded by the Storm Dragon King. For ages, none have seized it, and few know the ancient method you speak of. How is it you know? And was it not you, Empress, who first sought to claim the stone’s power? Now that another has it, you ask us gods to fight your battle?” Nüwa spoke bluntly, laying bare Wu Zetian’s own designs.

“If not for Sikong Zhen, would it not have been you who sought the stone’s might?”

Wu Zetian pondered how to answer.

Nüwa sat at the head of the hall, golden canopy turning gently behind her, as though weighing the empress herself. “Answer me well, and then I will decide if you deserve my aid.”

“Since I come seeking rescue, I shall reveal all,” Wu Zetian said, unshaken.

“To channel the demonstone’s power requires seven towers. Place the stone at the center, strike it simultaneously with power from the six surrounding peaks, and in the instant it shatters, lightning draws the force into the vessel. Thus the hero gains the demon’s might.

This I learned directly from Galo of Thousand Caverns.

I believe she alone knows this formation across Heluo, the Cloud Desert, and the Threefold Lands. A year ago she came to Chang’an, warning me that the Storm Dragon King’s warding lines were being broken more often—clear proof of someone coveting the stone. She urged me to discover who was behind it, and to watch for towers that might serve the array. I sent the Grand Inspector of the Yu Survey Bureau, but nothing was found.

Meanwhile, the dragon’s wardings kept being eroded. Left unchecked, one day the stone would be taken. I judged Sikong Zhen incompetent, so resolved to march to the Gorge myself. If need be, I would safeguard the stone. Perhaps you call this imperial arrogance—I will not dispute it. The Creator may judge as she sees fit.

I took Sikong Zhen and Di Renjie with me. The wards were nearly broken. So we planned to bring the stone back to Heluo. But Sikong Zhen had plotted beforehand. When I was struck down by the dragon, he replaced me with a puppet and fled with the stone aboard the imperial barge. By fortune, the place I fell had a spring, and so I barely survived.

It was my fault to trust wrongly. Sikong Zhen knows his lightning power can wield the demonstone. He will surely raise the towers. Now he deceives all, seizes Heluo’s throne. I beg the Creator to stop him.”

Clever words indeed. To “safeguard the stone” would only spark continent-wide strife. If she truly cared for the greater good, why had she not come to the inverted heaven at first? An emperor’s heart—deep and inscrutable. Nüwa thought, “best to believe her only halfway.”

“The towers are already begun,” Nüwa said.

“What?!” Wu Zetian feigned shock.

“Under the pretext of ‘all nations paying tribute,’ six Precious Flower Towers rise in Chang’an, with the central one—the Yu Survey Bureau Tower—already underway. By your own decree, Empress. Your Sikong is a man of action.” This Nüwa had seen with divine sight.

“What I did was misguided, and I did not notify the gods soon enough,” Wu Zetian admitted. “But now, I beg the Creator to decide swiftly.”

“No hurry. The towers will take time to finish.” Nüwa thought of another matter: before Galo ever warned Wu Zetian, someone else had first struck at the Storm Dragon. That one remained unknown.

Wu Zetian’s brow furrowed.

“One who comes seeking aid yet bears no gift—I have never seen the like.” Nüwa smiled faintly, removing her half-mask to reveal eyes shining with enthralling light.

Wu Zetian, caught in their brilliance, bowed low. “At your word, Creator, Wu will gladly offer what is required.”

Little Zhao Zhao, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Nüwa sighed inwardly. There is only one kind of thing that becomes boring once asked for outright.

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