Chapter Fourteen: One-Click Switch to the Mosque

“Don’t be surprised; we have even more here,” Wu Han said proudly as he continued his introduction. “When the Saharu delegation visited, to make them feel at home, we installed another set.”

He pressed a large green button beside him.

With a series of clicking sounds, several massive religious paintings hanging in the hall divided into vertical strips and began to rotate independently.

Only then did Sun Shiwan realize these paintings were not single pieces but painted on long wooden panels. The front sides, when joined together, formed the religious scenes he had just seen. The backs, however, were adorned with large calligraphic Quranic verses and geometric patterns.

“The mechanism is here,” Guo Kang said, opening a display case beneath the paintings. Inside were numerous gears, which powered the rotation of the panels.

“This design is inspired by ancient bamboo slips,” Wu Han explained. “A large painting requires lots of space to rotate fully, but breaking it down into strips like bamboo slips makes it much more manageable.”

“I see,” Sun Shiwan marveled. “Truly ingenious.”

“Oil paintings are quite rigid; their canvases don’t fold well. We wanted the paintings to be more flexible, but there are few artists skilled enough to paint large murals here—all veterans who are set in their ways. Changing their techniques is difficult,” Wu Han continued. “Of course, smaller pieces are much easier.”

He pointed to a small mural nearby. Looking closely, Sun Shiwan noticed it was not painted directly on the wall but on a soft fabric stretched between two scroll-like rollers. The fabric was double-sided, wrapped around the rollers. When the rollers turned, the religious image flipped to the back, revealing the calligraphy and decorations.

At the same time, the religious statues on the wall began rotating along with their backgrounds. The wall had openings where painted panels stood in place. After a half rotation, the saint statue was concealed inside the wall, and a statue of a Quranic scholar wearing a large turban emerged.

“We’ve made all these statues rotatable as well,” Wu Han explained further.

He pressed a black button nearby, and several shelves extended from the wall, unfurling massive embroidered curtains inscribed with scriptures, covering some of the larger sculptures. Wooden plaques dropped in front of mosaic windows, blocking images like St. George.

“Those are really difficult to move,” Sun Shiwan remarked.

“Yes,” Wu Han nodded. “Our technical capabilities are limited; without damaging the originals, this is as far as we can go.”

“So… what about the largest one?” Sun Shiwan asked, pointing to a hanging statue of a heavenly brotherly figure.

“That one is actually simpler,” Wu Han replied. “He is also a saint in the Quranic tradition, so he can be displayed. Just a bit of decoration is needed.”

Wu Han approached the statue and pulled a lever beside it. A small window above the statue’s head opened, and a giant onion-shaped turban was lowered by ropes, clicking into place atop the statue.

“Magnets are embedded both in the statue’s head and inside the turban,” Wu Han explained. “They automatically align when brought close together.”

“Such a clever design,” Sun Shiwan admired, watching the turban fit perfectly.

“Of course. From Samarkand to Paris, the finest craftsmen united to create these wonders,” Wu Han said proudly. “The Lady’s Shrine is a symbol of our Roman civilization and a beacon of world culture. Here, one truly feels that Rome is the world.”

“And this project is far from complete. There’s still much room for improvement,” he added, walking to a wall and opening a mural to reveal the mechanism behind it. “See, this is the aqueduct.”

“The entire apparatus is currently powered by water. The great capital city has many underground reservoirs left by previous dynasties, and there’s a water palace beside the Lady’s Shrine. The Roman ancestors built several elevated aqueducts to bring water from outside the city, ensuring supply during sieges.”

“We restored one main channel but didn’t direct the water underground. Instead, it flows into a newly built water tower. When power is needed, the gates open, releasing water to drive the machinery.”

“I heard Emperor Shundi once designed a dragon boat,” Sun Shiwan mused. “They say it had a timekeeper and various statues that would move and dance at the hour, with clouds rising and falling. I suppose it worked on a similar principle.”

“Ah, this is truly the grandeur our Great Yuan deserves. Seeing this makes my journey worthwhile,” he said, bowing slightly to Wu Han. “I must admit, I underestimated this place before. It holds far more depth than I imagined.”

“Sir Sun, no need to mind. This is only a prototype,” Wu Han replied. “The hydraulic system saves much manpower and reduces errors. But after each use, the gate must be closed to refill the water tower, so the system can only power part of the mechanisms at a time. It was fine initially, but with so many devices needing power, we have to make do.”

“Our current plan is to replicate the mechanisms of the ancient Roman Alexandrian Cathedral,” Guo Kang said confidently. “Records show they used steam to operate the cathedral’s massive doors. Since our predecessors succeeded over a thousand years ago, and we have better technology now, we’re certain it’s achievable.”

“Oh?” Sun Shiwan narrowed his eyes. “Do you have any working models yet?”

“This is the final exhibit we want to show you,” Wu Han said, leading Sun Shiwan and the others to the rear of the hall. There stood a shrine over a person’s height.

Unlike the main shrine, this one housed many smaller deities and celestial beasts in the Central Plains style, though on a much smaller scale. Such shrines were scattered throughout the cathedral and were not very conspicuous.

He opened the altar table to reveal a window leading to the basement. Leaning in, he called loudly, “Is the water flowing?”

“It’s flowing!” came a shout from below.

“Ready!” Wu Han shouted. “Now—release!”

At his command, Guo Kang forcefully pulled open an iron latch. A hissing sound filled the air as a large gear, previously stuck, began to turn.

Inside the shrine, all the figures—people, animals, even the cave background—started moving. Occasionally, mist rose, shrouding the shrine in an ethereal haze, perfectly complementing the Central Plains deities’ artistic style.

Behind the shrine stood rows of tall metal columns. As the shrine moved, they emitted a magnificent, resonant sound. Listening closely, Sun Shiwan realized each column produced a different tone. The scene resembled not a cave but an army of celestial warriors mustering for battle.

Though smaller in scale, the display stirred a profound awe within him.

“This place hasn’t changed its style, has it?” he suddenly remarked, recalling previous transformations.

“No need,” Wu Han replied without hesitation. “This is the holiest place, greater than any sect.”

Sun Shiwan looked up at the smoke curling above the columns and nodded.

“Guo has been confident for years and finally produced this masterpiece,” Wu Han said. “Its advantage is the longevity of its power output. If scaled up, it could drive all the mechanisms in the cathedral at once.”

“Since Master Wang took office in 1403, the church has focused on upgrading and improving all mechanisms—this is his specialty. Two years ago, Guo came here with new proposals. Others paid little attention, but Master Wang saw potential, and so this mechanism’s construction began.”

“I arrived here two years ago, and Master Wang hoped I would take over this work,” Guo Kang said, handing Sun Shiwan a notebook. “Honestly, this is more challenging than the hydraulic system—for example, the steam that drives the organ is leaking more than we want, but the seals aren’t perfect, so we have to find alternative uses.”

“We’re not rushing. If this new energy can be used commercially and for daily life within fifty years, we’ll be satisfied. Hopefully, by 1453, we can achieve a single activation that switches the entire cathedral into a mosque.”

Everyone gazed at the shrine, each lost in their own thoughts, falling into a thoughtful silence.