Chapter Sixty-Two: The Opening of the Inkcraft Exhibition

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The second day of the second lunar month—the Dragon Raises Its Head.

Although the Tang dynasty’s official holidays came every ten days, there were many other festivals throughout the year: New Year's Eve, the Lantern Festival, Mid-Autumn, Cold Food, Dragon Boat, and many more. Altogether, these holidays rivaled the combination of weekends and public holidays in later generations.

The second day of the second month was also a statutory holiday in the Tang dynasty, granting two days off. On this day, the city of Chang’an buzzed with anticipation, for the Mo School’s Exhibition of Mechanical Arts was about to open.

Thanks to relentless promotion by the Mo Village, the exhibition had already become the talk of the city. Whether it was the demonstration of pinhole imaging, the youth capable of feats of immense strength, or the soon-to-be-unveiled secret for keeping fish alive—each drew great fascination among the citizens of Chang’an.

In this era, entertainment was scarce. For grown men, leisure meant either brothels or gambling dens—where had they ever seen such marvelous wonders?

As the first rays of sun rose, crowds had already gathered outside the exhibition.

Those who arrived early were in no rush. Spending a few coins, they enjoyed steaming hot buns, waiting patiently. Nearby, a newly built restaurant was just finishing its renovations.

In one of the private rooms, a young woman in violet looked out at the sea of people with evident discontent. From here, one could see the entire exhibition grounds.

“The young master is really something. He refuses to say anything, insisting it must wait until today!” she pouted.

Behind her, Master Yu wore a kindly expression. “The young master has no choice; this is the most important opportunity to promote Mo Village. If anything goes wrong, all will be lost.”

“Just wait here quietly. In a while, you’ll see everything!” With these words, Master Yu soothed her, then went downstairs to inspect his restaurant once more, determined that nothing would go amiss on opening day.

“Master Yu! Where’s Mo Dun?” Li Gaoming—no, rather, Li Chengqian—entered with several others. Upon seeing Master Yu, he greeted him.

Knowing the crowds would be large at the start of the exhibition, Mo Dun had instructed Zhu Mingjun and Li Gaoming to watch from the yet-to-open restaurant, so as to avoid the throng.

“The young master is inside making preparations. He’s already reserved a private room for you,” Master Yu replied with a smile, ushering Li Chengqian in. At this moment, he had no idea that Li Gaoming was in fact the crown prince himself.

Suddenly, Master Yu froze, staring in disbelief at those behind Li Gaoming. He recognized each face: Qin Qiong, Cheng Yaojin, Yuchi Jingde, and the Prince of Qin—whom he had personally served fish to—now His Majesty Li Shimin, the emperor.

“Your humble servant—” Master Yu began anxiously.

“The emperor is traveling incognito today. Do not make a scene,” Qin Qiong stepped forward to stop Master Yu from bowing.

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“Yes, yes!” Master Yu stammered, glancing between Li Chengqian and the emperor’s strikingly similar features. He marveled in silence—so the courteous youth before him was the crown prince himself.

Master Yu led Li Shimin to the private room with the best view, then withdrew in a bow.

“Where is that little catfish?” Li Shimin peered curiously out the window at the bustling crowd.

“Not only is the little catfish missing, I can’t even find my own rascal. He’s probably backstage preparing,” Qin Qiong remarked, scanning the crowd for Qin Huaiyu.

Just then, a gong sounded, drawing everyone’s attention to the high platform erected at the center.

The Mo School’s Exhibition of Mechanical Arts was about to begin!

A black-clad youth walked slowly to the center of the platform and bowed deeply to the crowd.

“Welcome, elders and friends, to the Mo School’s Exhibition of Mechanical Arts. I am Mo Dun!” he announced. Though his voice was not loud, it carried easily across the venue.

From the very beginning of the exhibition’s construction, Mo Dun had planned for sound amplification. Seeing the many primitive horn-like devices arrayed around the venue, he smiled slightly—the effect was satisfactory.

“That’s the Mo School’s prodigy!” came a chorus of exclamations from the crowd. His reputation had long preceded him: the secret of keeping fish alive had brought great wealth to Mo Village; he had saved five thousand lives; with five victories and a single defeat, he had entered the Imperial Academy; and now, his frontier poems were recited throughout Chang’an.

But none had expected the Mo School’s prodigy to be such a delicate-looking youth.

“So that is the famed Mo Dun?”

Among the five in the private room, only Li Chengqian had met him before.

Li Shimin regarded Mo Dun with curiosity: this youth, nicknamed “little catfish,” had been stirring up one surprise after another in Chang’an.

“Yes, Father Emperor, that is Mo Dun,” Li Chengqian answered gravely. Li Shimin might call him “little catfish” in jest, but as a friend, Li Chengqian would not be so informal.

On the platform, Mo Dun surveyed the crowd and spoke slowly: “A thousand years ago, the Mo School was one of the leading philosophies of its time. Today, it has dwindled to a single village. The Mo School stands at the brink of extinction.”

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Among the audience were not a few men of learning—even many students from the Imperial Academy had come for the spectacle. At these words, they sighed—how could a once-glorious school have fallen so low?

“If the Mo School does not change, it cannot avoid being lost to history, a mere footnote in the chronicles. Yet I believe our decline is not due to fate or circumstance, but to our own insular and conservative ways, our failure to keep pace with the times.”

Many among the Mo School disciples maintaining order around the grounds looked downcast. The Mo School had once enforced strict secrecy—leaking any of its secrets was a grave crime.

“But today’s Mo School will no longer be closed and conservative. We will reform and open up. We will no longer hoard our mechanical arts, but share them with the world. And now, I present the first Mo School secret: the pinhole camera!”

With a wave of his hand, a massive black curtain in the southeast corner was slowly drawn up. The exhibition hall plunged into darkness. A single beam of sunlight passed through a small hole at the center of the curtain, shining onto a white cloth behind it. Upon the cloth appeared a clear silhouette.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd.

Behind the curtain, Qin Huaiyu and two others were having a grand time, swapping out silhouettes—first human figures, then animals. Each change drew a fresh round of astonished cries.

As the sun rose higher, the demonstration concluded. This was precisely why Mo Dun had chosen this time to open the exhibition—the sunlight was just right.

“This exhibition will run for three days. The pinhole camera will be open to all; everyone will have the chance to learn its secrets.”

At these words, cheers erupted from the audience.

“It seems this little catfish is truly serious!” Li Shimin exclaimed from within the private room.

“Such sweeping reforms are fraught with peril. If he succeeds, the Mo School may endure for generations; if he fails, it will fade into obscurity,” Cheng Yaojin remarked with piercing clarity.

All the pressure converged upon this one youth. All eyes turned to the solitary figure on the high platform, shouldering the fate of his school.