Beings who dwelt in the College of Immortality been braggarts? Lao Tzu, Confucius, Mencius, Mohammed, Christ, Buddha, Nestorius? Disciples of their doctrines lived in harmony at Changan under the gracious, tolerant Emperor Ming Huang. When the Nestorian Christian Church burned, and the congregation was short of funds, Ming Huang made up the deficit out of his own coffers. And yet he was not a Christian. He was a Taoist with a firm belief in all its kindred magic and mysticism.
Governor Chang meditated over the achievements of the eminent religious leaders. Not one of them had been a braggart, yet their memories overshadowed the achievements of all the conquering militarists who had marched pompously across the screen of being since P'an Ku hewed out the world with hammer and chisel. Chang Shou-kuei was sure that Duke Bonimet was as noisy and hollow as a conch-shell. In the interim, however, to the populace he appeared strong. His veneer of power must be cracked. Nevertheless Chang Shou-kuei, after profound meditation, came to the conclusion that it would not be necessary to take up arms. The Emperor had spent much money scattering story-tellers throughout the breadth of China. Must the seed that they had sown be wasted, without even one crop being harvested? It was unthinkable. Bitter, bitter seed, certainly. True, the men were in fine physical condition, but so was Governor Chang. The people in his province were happy and contented. They had multiplied, for the women were fruitful. They were loyal.
