Chapter 376: The Qianyou Suppression of Buddhism

In the region north of Xinzhou and south of Daizhou, five peaks stand tall, thrusting straight above the clouds. Their summits are bare of trees, resembling piled-earth terraces, hence the name Wutai—Mount Wutai.

Stretching across the ridges and peaks, Buddhist vitality flourishes. As a sacred ground of Buddhism and a renowned mountain of the faith, it has weathered a thousand years of shifting winds and changing fortunes, through rise and fall, prosperity and decline, yet has always stood firm, its status transcendent.

During the mid-Tang period, the Buddhist temples of Wutai reached their zenith—hundreds of temples, great and small, dotted the peaks, with over ten thousand monks and nuns. Even though the late-Tang chaos caused some losses, it still did not hinder the saying "Buddha rules over Wutai."

Monks visible to the authorities alone numbered over three thousand. Add to that those privately ordained and wandering monks lodging there, and the number grew even greater—not to mention the commoner households and monk-farmers attached to the mountain temples. Around Mount Wutai, the mountains were many but the plains were level, and the farmland was vast. The population, land, and property occupied by the various temples constituted enormous wealth—especially tempting for the Northern Han dynasty, which was struggling to recover and develop.

And ever since the Great Han Emperor Liu Chengyou resolved to carry out the "suppression of Buddhism," the temples of the Mount Wutai system inevitably became the court's key "targets of attention."

Just a month ago, after a long period of investigation and preparation, Liu Chengyou formally issued an edict at the grand court assembly, ordering the prohibition and rectification of all Buddhist temples and nunneries throughout the realm.

This move was clearly different from the previous small-scale, targeted measures—this was a comprehensive strike against Buddhism. Even though Liu Chengyou's control over the central government was deepening day by day, the court was still not his one-man show. On this matter, quite a few court officials raised objections, admonishing Liu Chengyou to be cautious, and some even directly urged him to rescind the order.

The Buddhist establishment still wielded considerable influence both at home and abroad, among the court and the common folk. Even among the regional military governors—those battle-hardened butchers—many devoutly believed in Buddhism, perhaps hoping to wash the blood from their hands through the Dharma. Of course, most of such men still gripped bloody blades while murmuring words of compassion.

However, despite considerable opposition at court, under Liu Chengyou's determined push, all obstacles were not major problems. Moreover, his preparations for suppressing Buddhism had not been made in a day or two—from the pacification of Li Shouzhen's rebellion in Hezhong, nearly two years had passed in total, consuming no small amount of manpower and resources.

And the various key military and governmental departments at court had long since coordinated with one another, quickly reaching consensus and standing on the Emperor's side.

The State Finance Commission, which managed the nation's finances, had always been strapped for funds; the Bureau of Military Affairs, which coordinated troops, horses, and military equipment, as well as the deployment, promotion, and rewards of generals and soldiers, plus the plan to attack Huainan in the south that had already been placed on the agenda—all required money and grain; the commanders of the Palace Command and the Imperial Guard were even simpler—only when state finances were ample could they be properly supported; and the various circuits, prefectures, military governors, defense commissioners, and militia commissioners in the localities clearly stood to profit, able to claim a share of the spoils—why would they refuse? Moreover, even if it stirred popular resentment or even unrest, the Son of Heaven and the court would bear the blame; they were merely executing the orders of the central government...

Therefore, once the Emperor's great command was issued, a campaign from top to bottom, from the central government to the localities, striking at and plundering Buddhist temples across the realm, swiftly unfolded with great fanfare.

Liu Chengyou's "suppression of Buddhism" was, in essence, aimed at liberating population and land, developing the economy, and incidentally creating a massive source of revenue for the court to fund his grand enterprise.

But this matter could not be carried out too "bluntly"—it needed a justifiable pretext, even if it was in reality a naked act of plunder. On the official surface, the Emperor's edict and the court's decrees all centered on "reviving old statutes and reforming past abuses," repeatedly emphasizing the word "rectification."

Moreover, a "golden opportunity" was naturally found, and the matter was then set in motion. It was early summer when the Son of Heaven, Liu Chengyou, to display filial piety, specially accompanied Empress Dowager Lady Li out of the palace to pay respects to Buddha at Xiangguo Temple in the Eastern Capital.

The Son of Heaven's first expression of intent to seek Buddha's blessing filled the Buddhist establishment—which had long sensed the gathering storm—with great joy. The entire Xiangguo Temple, from top to bottom, attached extraordinary importance to the occasion and turned out in full to welcome him.

And then, problems arose.

First, Liu Chengyou, unable to contain his curiosity, "casually" selected one of the great monks receiving the imperial procession to recite a passage of scripture. The monk could not do it, and the Emperor and Empress Dowager were immediately displeased.

At that time, poor commoners from the alleys around the temple braved death to break through and seek an audience, lodging complaints that the temple had encroached upon their property and enslaved men and women. Liu Chengyou received them and was greatly enraged.

He immediately dispatched troops to surround the temple and take control of those within, ordering Li Chongju, Chief Commander of the Konghe Army, to investigate the temple. As a trusted general who had risen from the Emperor's personal guard, he understood his sovereign's intent well and uncovered problems with ease. Among the monks of Xiangguo Temple, several deserters from the army were discovered.

Upon learning of the results, the Emperor was furious beyond measure.

Thereafter, a series of severe and thorough rectification measures against Xiangguo Temple proceeded as a matter of course. Its farmland was confiscated, its property seized, its monks dispersed, and its wrongdoers punished. Xiangguo Temple, not yet at the height of its glory, was thus made an example and became a sacrifice to the "suppression of Buddhism."

Afterward came a bout of making mountains out of molehills. Within a few days, the Eastern Capital and various circuits, prefectures, and commanderies submitted memorials one after another, claiming that the Buddhist temples of the realm had been built in excessive numbers, that privately ordained monks and nuns were multiplying in chaotic profusion, and that they sheltered the wicked and depraved... In short, the memorials Liu Chengyou received seemed to describe every temple in the realm as a den of filth and iniquity, urgently in need of rectification.

Under this series of preliminary preparations, the policy of suppressing Buddhism was now inexorable, and it gradually spread across the entire realm!

Foguang Temple, compared to the temples of the Five Peaks, could only be counted as an ordinary one among the many temples of Mount Wutai. Yet it nestled against the green mountains, with towering ancient trees and majestic halls—the very picture of a famous monastery.

But in this early autumn of the third year of Qianyou, the mountain leaves had only just begun to yellow, and the temple was already shrouded in a bleak and desolate atmosphere.

Inside and outside the mountain temple, a small squad of soldiers and a dozen or so yamen runners had taken occupation. Another group of black-clad men exuded an aura of "keep away," coldly and contemptuously surveying the temple.

Dozens of monks, young and old, great and small, under the watch of the soldiers, clutched their bundles and shuffled away from the temple with miserable, halting steps.

Liu Chengyou's suppression of Buddhism was not aimed at completely exterminating the Buddhist faith—that was unrealistic—but primarily used suppression and restriction as its means. The various temples of Mount Wutai, according to the court's regulations, after examination of their merits and selection of their virtues, were permitted to retain only twenty, great and small—which already constituted a catastrophe. All other temples were to be permanently closed or even demolished, and even the great temples occupying the main peaks of Wutai could not escape their doom.

And Foguang Temple, clearly, was not among the twenty that were preserved.

A young novice monk, led by the hand of an old monk, looked back with every step, gazing at the towering temple gate that meant so much to him, his eyes blurred with tears, filled with reluctance.

The old monk gently stroked his head, his face haggard, sweeping his gaze over the surrounding soldiers—the gleaming spear points flashing with cold light, enough to make one's heart tremble.

He heaved a deep sigh, feeling his spirit utterly broken. Foguang Temple had not been established for very long—it had happened to coincide with the great development of Buddhism in the Tang dynasty. However, during the Huichang era of Emperor Wuzong of Tang, it was destroyed in that "Emperor Wuzong's suppression of the Dharma." Later it was rebuilt, and now, less than a hundred years later, it faced another great upheaval, threatened with the calamity of demolition.

Standing on high ground, followed by several black-robed subordinates, Wang Jingchong quietly watched the scene of the monks' expulsion below. That sorrowful sight instead brought a faint smile to the corners of his mouth.

Raising a hand, Wang Jingchong directly gave his orders: "That's about enough. Have the Wutai County authorities handle the cleanup. Allocate the temple's land and population properly. All monks are to be laicized, placed under surveillance, and not treated with negligence..."

Then he walked over to the leading squad leader of the soldiers and said: "Have the soldiers dismantle the bronze statues and ritual implements inside the temple, arrange for their transport down the mountain, and send them all to the Eastern Capital to be turned over to the court!"

"Yes!"

"Inventory the temple's property carefully, make sure there are no hidden caches. After the accounting is complete, tear this temple down for me..." In a cold, low voice, Wang Jingchong issued another order.

The temples of Mount Wutai were too numerous and their influence too widespread. To ensure the smooth implementation of the "suppression of Buddhism" policy, the court needed to dispatch a capable man. And as Vice Commissioner of Military Virtue, a political star who had risen rapidly in the third year of Qianyou, the Emperor's "loyal hound," Wang Jingchong was sent to Hedong to handle this matter. And Wang Jingchong, clearly, reveled in it, viewing it as an opportunity to advance his political career another step, and threw himself into the work with boundless energy.