Chương 762: Visiting Zhaoji Pavilion

Cheng Yaojin also came over, making a lot of noise:

"Then we absolutely have to include me, Old Cheng! I've been following His Majesty since Zhuoxian. I was at the forefront of the westward expedition to Rome. Even if I didn't achieve great things, I certainly deserve credit for my hard work, right?"

"When the portrait comes out, you have to paint my Xuanhua axe on it, the kind that's been sharpened, it looks fierce!"

Qin Qiong, standing nearby, was both amused and exasperated: "You're just bragging. Why does the portrait have to look so fierce? It's not like it's a door god."

"Why aren't we door gods? You and I, Uncle Bao, are door gods!" Cheng Yaojin said confidently, as if it were the truth.

"From now on, when people put up door gods in their homes, they should put up our portraits. How impressive!"

Everyone laughed heartily, and the atmosphere was very relaxed.

Civil officials were much more reserved, appearing calm and collected on the surface, but in reality, they were all very nervous.

Several Hanlin scholars gathered together and began to ponder how to write the inscription for Zhaoji Pavilion, what style of eulogy to use, whether to use a four-character poem or parallel prose, and which lines of classical allusion would be appropriate.

Each of them was mentally drafting their own inscriptions, waiting for His Majesty's order to write them so they could be the first to write them.

The old Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices stroked his snow-white beard and muttered to himself with a serious expression:

"According to ancient system, the Hall of Meritorious Officials should face south, with civil officials on the left and military officials on the right, and the positions arranged according to rank and merit."

I wonder how the Ministry of Works arranged things. If the regulations are not in accordance with propriety, then it would be a loss of national dignity.

We need to take a good look back and correct any parts that don't conform to the rules.

The secretary next to him smiled and said, "Don't worry, sir. The blueprints were personally reviewed by the Minister of the Imperial Secretariat, so the specifications can't be wrong."

Furthermore, His Majesty specifically instructed that it must conform to ancient etiquette and surpass the grandeur of previous dynasties; it cannot be inferior.

You can rest assured.

Old Qingcheng nodded, still a little uneasy. He kept stroking his beard and quickened his pace, eager to get to the front and see for himself.

As they walked, someone at the front of the group called out in a low voice, "We're here!"

Everyone looked up at the same time, following the sound, and froze instantly, even their breath caught in their throats.

At the end of the imperial road, amidst a cluster of evergreen pines and cypresses, a magnificent three-story pavilion rises from the ground, gleaming brightly in the summer sun, almost blinding people.

The entire Zhaoji Pavilion faces south and is built on a 12-foot-high white marble platform. Its layers of eaves curve upwards like an eagle spreading its wings, creating a magnificent sight.

Bronze bells hang from the eaves; when the wind blows, they tinkle and their clear, melodious sound carries far, like celestial music.

The roof is covered with uniform gilded glazed tiles. When the sunlight shines on it, it glitters like it's plated with pure gold, so dazzling that it hurts your eyes.

Under the eaves of the top floor in the very center hangs a huge black plaque with gold lettering, bearing three powerful characters: Zhaoji Pavilion.

The brushstrokes are vigorous and powerful.

Below the stage are eighty-one steps made of white marble, polished to a mirror-like shine, each step smooth and even.

Stone figures and horses stand on both sides of the steps, carved with lifelike detail. The generals are armored and hold spears, looking majestic and awe-inspiring; the civil officials hold tablets, looking solemn and dignified.

As it stretches along, it exudes a solemn and dignified aura, inspiring respect in those who look at it.

In front of the pavilion was a wide open square, paved with uniform bluestone slabs, the seams of which were evenly aligned, so clean that there wasn't even a fallen leaf.

It can hold over a thousand people without feeling crowded, and it will be sufficient for future sacrificial ceremonies and the ceremony for meritorious officials to enter the cabinet.

"My goodness..." Zhang Fei blurted out instinctively, his voice trembling.

"This is way too high! It's more than three times higher than the wall around our yard! I'm standing at the bottom and I can barely see the top!"

Goodness gracious, that must have taken so many bricks and tiles!

Not only was he dumbfounded, but the entire court was stunned.

Although I knew it was supposed to be built in a grand style, seeing it in person still gave me a jolt of awe at the imposing aura of the founding of the nation.

This grandeur and scale far surpass the Qilin Pavilion and Yuntai Pavilion recorded in historical books!

The old Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices stared, his mouth agape, his hand stroking his beard frozen in place. After a long pause, he murmured, his voice slightly unsteady:

"Impressive, truly magnificent... This Zhaoji Pavilion... is probably..."

This surpasses all previous generations! Excellent! This is truly worthy of the achievements of my great Han Dynasty!

As she spoke, her eyes became a little red.

It's been a lifetime journey to witness such a grand event.

Zhuge Liang nodded slightly, gently waving his feather fan, his eyes showing a hint of approval:

"It is dignified and majestic, possessing both the grandeur of a founding emperor and the profound cultural heritage to be passed down through the ages. It is excellent."

Minister Song is a skilled craftsman and has lived up to His Majesty's expectations.

Standing to the side, listening to the crowd's praises, Song Yingxing straightened his back even more, his face glowing as if he had drunk honey.

Liu Ce stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the Zhaoji Pavilion that he had single-handedly built. He felt quite satisfied and a sense of pride welled up inside him.

He turned around, smiled at everyone, and waved his hand:

"How was it? Did you all not disappoint? Come on, let's all go inside and take a look. Don't just watch the excitement outside."

There's more to it than meets the eye; take your time to explore.

The crowd followed the emperor up the white marble steps.

The stone slabs underfoot were polished to a shine, and the height of each step was just right, making it easy and comfortable to walk on.

It's clear that the Ministry of Works really put in the effort; they even calculated the height of the steps repeatedly.

Upon arriving at the pavilion entrance, two large vermilion doors stood open, adorned with gilded door studs. They were heavy and required considerable effort to push, exuding an indescribable sense of weight and solemnity.

The door knocker is a bronze animal head, majestic and imposing, with exquisite details.

As soon as they stepped through the gate, everyone felt a sense of openness and tranquility.

The first floor was a huge hall, at least four zhang high, with more than a dozen vermilion pillars as thick as two people could hug, reaching to the sky and the ground. The pillars were carved with cloud patterns and auspicious beasts, with exquisite craftsmanship. Every scale and every cloud pattern was clear and looked as if they were alive.

The ground was paved with uniform bluestone slabs, flat and clean, and the sound of one's voice echoed, making it seem particularly spacious and solemn.

The walls on the left and right are bare, covered only with a layer of off-white moisture-proof plaster. They are neat and tidy, clearly indicating the spaces reserved for hanging portraits.

On the north wall, there is a huge blank blue stone tablet, more than two people tall, which is obviously reserved for the inscription of the Zhaoji Pavilion, waiting for the emperor to write it in his own hand.

"Wow, this place is spacious!" Zhang Fei strode to the wall and gestured with his hand.

"This wall alone can hold at least twenty or thirty portraits, right? If you add up the other three walls, there must be a hundred or eighty of them."

How many meritorious individuals would it take to fill these positions? I thought there would only be a dozen or so.

Song Yingxing, the Minister of Works standing nearby, quickly stepped forward to introduce them, his tone tinged with a hint of pride:

"General Zhang, the first floor is the sacrificial hall, where ceremonies and sacrifices for the descendants of meritorious officials will be held in the future."

The portraits are mainly on the second and third floors. The second floor is the civil officials' section, and the third floor is the military officials' section. On the left and right walls of each floor, the portraits are hung in order of merit.

On the top floor, there is also an ancestral hall dedicated to the memorial tablets of meritorious officials who died for their country since the founding of the nation. Incense is burned continuously throughout the year so that future generations will remember their contributions.