Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/75

RV 70 (PORTRAIT OF AN EMPEROR) scented. Tea was liquid jade. It could be partaken of only in a tranquil room, and in fitting robes.

Chang, sensing the reverence with which Ming Huang viewed the tea, waited in silence. In the garden distance a bird broke forth in song, and the breeze in the pines caught the rhythm.

"Let us drink," said Ming Huang softly. "When I drink tea the cool breath of heaven blows in my sleeves and carries my cares away."

Not till the last drop of tea had been drunk, did he speak again. Chang waited his commands.

"By your action at Bishbalik," Ming Huang began, "you have honored not only the Chinese Empire but the generations of men who are to come. You have shown that something beyond brute force can route an enemy. Pure reasoning has won a signal victory. I am gratified. Though I am your Emperor, momentarily I look up to you. You have shown me the Way in a manner worthy of the greatest of all sages. A blue tiger can kill. There is no glory in killing. Honors should be given to a man who stems a flood rather than to one who attacks a weak nation simply to add new territory. States won in that manner never become welded to the Empire. They watch for weak moments, when disaster stalks in some distant part, then they strike and break away. In history, China will be great, because if my wishes are followed through the ages, conquest will be a weapon only used against the oppressors in order to help tire oppressed.

"Therefore I have an important work for you to do. RV 70 (70)