Chapter 123: Your Name

"The reason the Princess of the Yellow Imperial Chamber went to the Proclamation Hall to seek an audience with His Majesty was that the Empress felt unwell and, before her death, wished to see the Prince of Tongyiyang one last time. The Princess interceded on her behalf."

On the night the Empress passed away, in a secret chamber within the residence of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, Kong Ren was reporting to Chen Chong on what had transpired in the palace at noon.

"But His Majesty did not grant permission."

Chen Chong sneered. "It would be strange if His Majesty had permitted it."

He could not help recalling the letter that the deposed Crown Prince Wang Lin had sent via a trusted aide into the palace for the Empress, which ultimately fell into the hands of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties — the Empress had already wept herself blind over the deaths of her two sons and one grandson, so the letter had to be read aloud to her, and that reading gave it one more mouth and one more pair of ears to know.

Although the Master of Fates' office was utterly useless at the frontier, its surveillance of Chang'an remained tight; not the slightest trace or clue could escape their eyes.

In that letter, Wang Lin, whose future was already lost, wept and poured out his grief to the blind Empress: "The Imperial Father is exceedingly harsh toward his sons and grandsons. In the past, my elder brother Zhangsun (Wang Yu) and middle brother Zhongsun (Wang Huo) both died around the age of thirty. Now your son is already thirty years old, deposed and cast out of the court. That I have barely clung to life is entirely thanks to the protection of my Imperial Mother. Should any misfortune befall my Imperial Mother, your son knows not where his death lies!"

Resentment and bitterness bled through the silk! Chen Chong had long since informed Wang Mang of the letter's contents, and along with it he had submitted a major case involving conspiracy and treason — more than enough to make Wang Mang loathe Wang Lin to the extreme.

Just as Wang Lin had said, now that the Empress was gone, his sole protection was lost. Now, as the Son of Heaven mourned the Empress, Wang Lin requested entry into the palace but was still denied.

Kong Ren proposed: "When a great tree falls, it drags down a whole patch of forest with it. Marquis of Tongmu, should we widen the scope and include the State Preceptor as well…"

Chen Chong, however, shook his head. "Do you know how many years of friendship His Majesty shares with the State Preceptor?"

"Over forty years!"

"The Son of Heaven will never move against Liu Xin."

From beginning to end, Chen Chong's true target was never the State Preceptor, much less that insignificant Diwu Lun — it was the Crown Prince!

As long as his plan succeeded, killing those two in the future would be no more than the effort of snapping a finger.

Yet matters still somewhat exceeded Chen Chong's expectations. After all, his gaze was fixed on the snail's-horn arena of court political struggle; he never imagined that Diwu Lun would leap straight out of that arena, run to the frontier where the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties' reach fell short, and achieve such great merit — not only being promoted to the rank of Count but also winning the Son of Heaven's recognition and an audience.

This little fellow was becoming harder and harder to touch.

At this thought, Chen Chong asked Kong Ren again: "After Diwu Lun left the palace today, where did he go?"

If Diwu Lun had been momentarily muddled and gone to the State Preceptor's residence, Chen Chong was confident he could make him fall from favor at once.

Kong Ren replied: "This morning, Diwu Lun paid separate visits to Huan Tan and Yan You."

……

The Empress was the mother of the nation. Now that she had passed away, according to custom, all subjects under Heaven were to abstain from marriages and weddings for three months. But Wang Mang, emulating Emperor Wen of Han, issued an edict saying that after three days, marriages among the common people would no longer be prohibited.

This gave Diwu Lun a false alarm. Wang Mang had lost his wife, but Diwu Lun was still in a hurry to take a wife himself, so he promptly followed his original plan and went to find a guest-messenger.

Aside from the gift-presentation ceremony, until the bride-fetching itself, the groom could not visit the bride's home in person; he had to invite a "guest" to act on his behalf — usually a friend of the groom, or a respected elder of virtue and standing, the higher the status the better.

Diwu Lun first sought out Huan Tan, but Huan Junshan was the music officer and, during the state mourning, had to arrange the tolling of bells and the playing of funeral dirges. He had no time, and it also clashed with the auspicious occasion. After teasing Diwu Lun for a while, he suggested he find another guest of greater weight.

And so Diwu Lun paid a visit to the former Grand Marshal, Yan Erudite.

Although Yan You had lost his Three Ducal Ministers post, Wang Mang seemed to have some regrets after Han Wei's defeat; he restored Yan You's countship and appointed him as a Grandee of the Palace of Glorious Fortune, often summoning him to the palace for consultation. His status was naturally far higher than Huan Tan's. If he could secure Yan You to act as his guest, the Diwu clan would gain considerable face.

Yan You spent most of his days idle at home and readily agreed. As soon as the three-day marriage prohibition was over, Diwu Lun personally drove a carriage to fetch Sir Yan, conveying him to Maoling and delivering him to the gates of the Ma residence. Yan You took a live wild goose, firmly bound, and went inside, while Diwu Lun could only wait at the gate.

He waited and waited, from morning until the sun was setting, until Diwu Lun began to doubt his own existence. Only then did Yan You emerge, thoroughly tipsy, with the master of the house seeing him out behind him.

Judging by his figure, Diwu Lun at first thought it was Ma Yuan, but on a second look it did not quite resemble him — it lacked Ma Yuan's chivalrous, roguish air and had more refinement and gentility. The man escorted them out the main gate, handed a portion of dried meat to Yan You, and bowed twice to him.

Then his gaze fell upon Diwu Lun, who was quietly waiting outside for good tidings, and he smiled and nodded.

To present a goose and receive dried meat in return — this meant that the second rite of the day was considered complete.

Although he had known it was all but certain, Diwu Lun still breathed a sigh of relief and made a deep bow to the master of the house.

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When Yan You returned to the carriage, Diwu Lun finally learned that the man just now was Ma Yuan's third elder brother, the Commandant of Zengshan, Ma Yuan, courtesy name Jizhu.

Among the brothers, Ma Yuan was closest to Ma Yuan. On account of his younger brother having knelt outside his residence for half a day, he had made a point of finding an excuse to come home for this.

After all, there had been no general amnesty, so Ma Yuan was still a wanted fugitive and could hardly show his face, while their second brother, Ma Yu, had gone far away to Yang Province to serve as its Regional Governor. The role of household master could only be filled by Ma Yuan.

Diwu Lun's reputation for filial piety and righteousness had long since reached Maoling, and after Ma Yuan had held his nose and sung his praises, his character and talent were beyond question. The only regrettable thing was that his family background was a little lacking. Ma Yuan cared more about this than his younger brother did — a gentry clan must still have the pride of a gentry clan, after all…

But the fact that Diwu Lun could invite the former Three Ducal Minister Yan You to act as his guest was proof enough that he was no ordinary man, and Ma Yuan readily gave his consent.

"Ma Jizhu asked what Diwu Boyu is to me." Yan You looked at Diwu Lun with a smile.

"I said you are a disciple of an old friend of mine, and also like my own disciple. Does Boyu acknowledge that?"

Diwu Lun was momentarily stunned, then immediately alighted from the carriage and made a deep bow to Yan You. "Sir Ziyun taught me literature, poetry, and the classics; Sir Erudite has taught me the art of war and the martial way. I have benefited immensely and have long harbored the wish to become your formal disciple — I could not ask for more!"

If Huan Tan wanted to take advantage of him like this, Diwu Lun would not acknowledge it, but Yan You the strategist truly had much worth learning from. After all, Yan You was the sole keeper of a victorious foreign campaign since the founding of the Xin Dynasty — he had beaten Goguryeo down to Lesser Guryeo. Calling him "teacher" was no loss.

Yan You sighed. "Ziyun's death was brought about by my implication. Acting as your guest these few times can be considered a way to settle my guilt."

He then praised: "At the banquet just now, the Ma family's virtuous daughter poured the sweet wine for me. Her decorum was indeed impeccable — Boyu has a good eye. I hear that you and Ma Yuan are friends, bound by life and death, and now you marry his daughter; it makes for a fine tale."

Diwu Lun answered with all due deference, but inwardly he was anxious. So, when exactly can you tell me the name that was asked?

Today's "asking the name" was to inquire after the bride's name and the date of her birth; only then could these birth details be used for the next step, "submitting the auspices," to divine whether the marriage was suitable.

That was a minor matter — nothing more than giving the diviner a little extra money to ensure he spoke of good and not ill.

The crux of it was that after more than a year of dealings, Diwu Lun still could only refer to her as "the Ma girl who refuses to disclose her name." Was that not a bit inappropriate?

Yan You, however, deliberately kept Diwu Lun in suspense. Only when they were nearing Changling did he produce two pieces of red silk. He handed him one first. "This is her name."

Diwu Lun slowly unfolded it and saw upon it a familiar handwriting — written personally by the Ma family's virtuous daughter.

"Chanchan."

A smile spread across Diwu Lun's face. It had not been easy — after a year of courtship, she had finally given her name of her own accord. Though men mostly used single-character names, Wang Mang's name reform had not yet reached the broad masses of women. "Chan" signified a woman's graceful bearing and was also used to describe the moon.

"This is her courtesy name."

Yan You handed the other piece of silk to Diwu Lun. A man received his courtesy name at his capping ceremony at twenty, a woman at her hairpin ceremony at fifteen — but girls who could have a courtesy name were almost exclusively from gentry families, used only when noblewomen addressed one another in social intercourse. To ordinary people, they would not even disclose their courtesy name.

Diwu Lun opened it again, and what met his eyes was Ma Yuan's bold, unyielding brushwork. The two characters written upon it nearly stabbed him blind.

"Nüzhu — Mistress of the House!"

……

The extreme gentleness of Ma Chanchan's given name, colliding with this utterly domineering courtesy name, left Diwu Lun not knowing whether to laugh or cry. He could tell at a glance that Ma Yuan, that fellow, had chosen it!

"This is the mistress of my house" — it was very much in keeping with Ma Yuan's style, and also the source of confidence that let him leave his daughter in charge of the household while he was away for long stretches. This courtesy name was already considered low-key; there were even those who gave their daughters the courtesy name "Nüwang — Queen"!

After learning her name, Diwu Lun immediately turned back home, invited the village's old shaman, and in the ancestral temple "Liren Hall," before the tablets of his forebears, performed a divination. If the birth signs clashed, the marriage would certainly fall through. But after Diwu Lun covered the old shaman's meals for a month, the result was an omen of great fortune!

Next, they had to select the nearest auspicious day and ask Yan You to make another trip, to notify the bride's family of the fortunate omen.

"Returning to divine at the temple, obtaining an auspicious omen, and again sending an envoy to inform them — thus the marriage was settled."

Steward Ma had already returned to Shang Commandery. Ma Yuan stayed home these days, doing his utmost not to go out to avoid adding trouble to the marriage, pent-up and thoroughly ill at ease. Upon receiving this news, he breathed a sigh of relief, yet still said to his daughter: "But before this, backing out is no breach of propriety. Chanchan, if you are unwilling, you need only shake your head, and your father will refuse this match for you!"

When sending the auspicious omen, Diwu Lun also included a letter, delivered by a servant to the Ma family. In it, he wrote of his admiration over the past year and more, how he had always observed propriety and dared not reveal it, until he went beyond the frontier and fought the barbarian raiders in battle — when arrows struck his armor, he suddenly realized one should seize joy in time. Unable to restrain himself, he had sought betrothal from Ma Yuan without first consulting her. This was truly a breach of propriety.

To people of the time, this was simply gilding the lily. Marriage was a major matter — the parents and family head agreeing was enough; why ask the woman's opinion? Diwu Lun and she had even met twice and exchanged letters and gifts. Many people's marriages were far more perfunctory than this.

Ma Chanchan finished reading Diwu Lun's letter, somewhat bashful, yet full of worry for the future. After all, if she left, what would become of this household? She had only heard of some poor, lowly families where the eldest daughter remained unmarried at thirty, solely because she bore the burden of raising her parents and younger siblings. She could not understand it when young, but now she felt some empathy.

She merely lowered her eyes and said: "By my father's command, and the matchmaker's sentiments, your daughter has no objection."

When a girl speaks, a light, airy "Sure" can very well mean the exact opposite.

Ma Chanchan continued: "Your daughter has only one presumptuous request, and hopes Father will grant it."

"What is it?" Ma Yuan had been away from home for two years. Returning to find the household in perfect order, his youngest son's literacy and studies not neglected, all managed so well by his daughter, he was deeply ashamed. Whatever his daughter asked, he would agree to — even if he could not, that was fine too; if she wanted to break the engagement, so be it!

Ma Chanchan said: "I only hope that when I marry, Father can appear openly and honorably at the wedding, and hand me over with his own hands, rather than having my two uncles do it in his stead!"

"Your daughter has only this request, and asks for nothing more!"

……

Diwu Lun did not know that the prospective bride's single request essentially postponed the wedding until after a general amnesty cleared Ma Yuan of his crime.

After receiving the reply at home, he calculated: of the six marriage rites, three were complete — the first stroke of the character was written. Next came preparing the betrothal gifts: colored silk, dark-and-light ceremonial cloth, paired deerskins, and so on, to present at the bride's home for the formal gifting. That very day, they could agree with the bride's family on the wedding date — this was the "requesting the date" rite.

All that remained was the personal escort to the bridal chamber, bringing the bride to Diwu Village.

Diwu Lun's mood soared. While directing the household to hasten preparations for the many matters, he himself made occasional trips to Chang'an. Lately, with the Empress's grand funeral, though marriage was no longer prohibited after three days, the entire city remained shrouded in an atmosphere of grief. But joy in the heart lifts the spirit — Diwu Lun could only strive to suppress his smiles and the urge to hum while walking.

Even though Empress Wang, posthumously titled "Empress Xiaomu," had rarely appeared in public due to chronic illness, and rumors had long circulated that the Emperor and Empress had been estranged for years, the various government offices still had to go through the motions of hanging black and white mourning cloth — with the Canglong Gate being the most solemn of all.

Early this morning, when Diwu Lun sought to enter the palace and continue "awaiting edicts" with a group of idle Grandees near the Golden Horse Gate, he could not even get past the Canglong Gate.

He saw the palace gates tightly shut. Close attendants and palace eunuchs bore arms; the Tiger Guard, Feathered Forest Guard, and Gentlemen-of-the-Palace offices all maintained strict night security. Every palace bureau was on alert. The Northern Army's five regiments encircled the palace with encamped troops. The Prefect of the Yellow Gate, Masters of Writing, Imperial Secretaries, and Receptionists patrolled in shifts day and night.

Startled by this baffling display of force, Diwu Lun tactfully withdrew, and ran into an acquaintance — his good friend Geng Chun, a man of Julu who served as a Remonstrance Officer.

"Boshan, what has happened?"

"Boyu, you still haven't heard?"

Geng Chun pulled him aside and said in a low voice: "The deposed Crown Prince, Prince of Yiyang Commandery, Wang Lin."

"Grief-stricken over his mother's death, he 'died of illness' at home last night!"