Chapter 171: Circuitously Restoring the Han

It was precisely because he had been friends with Bao Yong for over ten years and knew of his enmity with Wang Mang that Feng Yan thought he would open a door of convenience. Yet today, he suddenly heard Bao Yong speak fervently of restoring the Han, and even try to pull him into the fold, his attitude far more urgent than when he had mentioned it many years ago.

"I…"

Feng Yan inwardly sensed trouble. For a moment, he could neither agree nor refuse, and finally blurted out a single line:

"I… I, too, have always cherished the House of Han in my heart, have I not?"

After that brief stumble, Feng Yan's words suddenly flowed smoothly, and he began to trace his family lineage: "My great-grandfather, the late general, taboo name Fengshi, rose from the ranks of Han Palace Gentlemen and envoys. He studied military texts and was dispatched to the Western Regions, where he encountered the rebellion of the Shache kingdom. He then levied troops from the various states of the Western Regions, attacked Shache, quelled the unrest, and his might shook the Western Regions. Later, he rose to be Superintendent of the Imperial Household and General of the Left, entered the inner court, and for Emperor Xiaoyuan, led armies to pacify the Western Qiang rebellion in Longxi. He was ever a veteran general who crushed the enemy."

"The Feng clan not only received deep favor from Han, but also served as Han imperial affines. The late general's daughter was Emperor Xiaoyuan's Consort Feng, the Empress Dowager of Zhongshan! As a woman, she saved the imperial carriage by blocking a savage beast, a giant bear, and later raised two generations: Prince Xiao of Zhongshan and Emperor Xiaoping."

If one truly calculated it, the last emperor of the Han dynasty was somewhat of a relative to Feng Yan as well.

But the one who unjustly ordered Empress Dowager Feng to her death, causing the entire Feng family to decline, was also a Son of Heaven of the Han. In the end, it was instead Wang Mang who restored Empress Dowager Feng's reputation.

"You, Junzhang, have a feud with the Wang clan, and am I any different?"

Feng Yan could not reveal his complex feelings; he had to speak with righteous and simple indignation: "My late grandfather, taboo name Yewang, in the time of Emperor Xiaocheng, nearly replaced Wang Feng as Grand Marshal and Grand General. Had that matter succeeded, how could Wang Mang's later usurpation have occurred? Alas, my grandfather was ultimately pushed out and dismissed by the Wang clan, and died frustrated in his hometown. In my youth, my elder brother's title as Marquis Within the Pass was stripped away, and my family thus fell into ruin."

"It is precisely for this reason that I long refused to serve the Xin, and later answered Lian Dan's summons only… only to test the waters, hoping to persuade him to unite the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers, to rally troops and restore the Han."

After rambling and finally positioning himself as someone working circuitously to restore the Han, Feng Yan continued: "But the General of Renewal rejected my counsel, and so I left him."

Bao Yong was overjoyed: "Jingtong truly shares my aspirations. I have not misjudged you."

Feng Yan also smiled: "That is why I have now come on behalf of Diwu Lun, the Grand Governor of Weicheng Commandery, to form an alliance with Shangdang!"

Bao Yong's smile came to an abrupt halt: "You are serving as an advisor to Diwu Lun?"

And not just any advisor, but a Registrar, a Registrar no less.

Bao Yong's attitude had already turned cold. He looked at Feng Yan warily and said: "This matter, Jingtong, you must explain thoroughly. Is Diwu Lun not, as everyone knows, a loyal dog of the Xin?"

Diwu Lun's actions made it hard for anyone not to draw that conclusion. After all, he had been a favored minister of the Emperor in recent years, welcoming the imperial prince back to court on the Emperor's behalf, and then rushing to Wei territory, where he captured Li Yan and thwarted his grand plan to restore the Han. Although Bao Yong had not been involved in that affair, it did not stop him from sighing with regret upon hearing of it. If Weicheng had risen up, Shangdang could have joined hands with it, enough to cause great chaos across Ji and Bing provinces. That damned Diwu Lun!

"Wrong, utterly wrong!"

Feng Yan pointed to his own chest and said: "I have already revealed my true heart to you, Junzhang. My will is set on restoring the Han. How could a man like me ever aid the Xin traitors again? The reason I entered Diwu Lun's service is because he, too, outwardly appears loyal to Wang Mang, but in secret, quietly hopes for the revival of the House of Han!"

Bao Yong still looked full of doubt, which put Feng Yan in a difficult spot: "Back then, Wang Mang proclaimed he would revive the House of Han, and what was the result? He became a usurping traitor. By the same logic, Li Yan spoke of restoring the Han on his lips, but did he ever actually support a member of the Liu imperial clan as his banner?"

They had no way of knowing that Li Yan had planned to make 'Liu Ziyu' emperor. Feng Yan said: "In my view, Li Yan was merely exploiting the people's longing for Han to seize power for himself. Add to that his lack of secrecy in his affairs, and he was attacked by the local strongmen, the Li clan of Wu'an, captured, and defeated, becoming a laughingstock for all under heaven."

"When such a man raises the banner of restoring the Han, not only can he not succeed, he will bring harm to the benevolent and ambitious men he has deceived into joining him."

"Diwu Boyu's capture of Li Yan was also an act of necessity. Even if he had not done it, Li Yan would have collapsed on his own."

Bao Yong was not so easily fooled: "Then how do you explain Diwu Lun sending troops to desperately defend Wang Mang's ancestral tombs?"

"That, too, was a stratagem of expediency." Feng Yan strained to think of excuses for Diwu Lun: "With the eastern expedition army nearby, if Yuancheng had fallen into the hands of refugees, Wang Mang in his fury would have ordered the General of Renewal and the Grand Preceptor to investigate the crime and remove Diwu Lun from his post. Then wouldn't he be unable to accomplish anything at all?"

"Junzhang, please believe me. Diwu Lun will absolutely never be loyal to the Xin."

"Where is the proof?"

"The proof is that Diwu Lun previously requested me to deliberately allow his old troops, over a thousand men who had been conscripted to attack the Red Eyebrow Army, to take a detour through Hedong and Shangdang in Bing Province, passing through Wei territory. This shows he harbors private ambitions."

Bao Yong was a clever man and understood immediately: "No wonder you suddenly came to Shangdang. So it was to act as a lobbyist for Diwu Lun, to have our commandery let his old troops pass through. How do I know this is not a case of borrowing a path to conquer Guo?"

Feng Yan laughed: "Junzhang, you are overthinking it. What great threat can a thousand weary old troops pose to the commandery forces of Shangdang? Weicheng is no State of Jin; rather, it shares lips and teeth with Shangdang."

"When I questioned him in Yecheng, Diwu Lun often lamented the chaos of the realm, not knowing which way to turn. He will not, like Lian Dan, fight to the death for Wang Mang. Since Diwu Lun is not an enemy, but a neighbor to Shangdang, why make an enemy of him? Better to grant him a favor. That way, when you, Junzhang, undertake your great endeavor, you will have no worries to the east."

"Diwu Lun now occupies a large commandery, conscripting refugees as soldiers, tempering their resolve. Within a hundred li, he bestows meat and wine daily, recruits heroic men, and seeks out loyal and wise counsel like myself, all to accumulate strength and protect himself. First, he will eliminate the powerful families who previously opposed the Han restoration. When the time of upheaval comes, he can then advance the benefit of the altars of state and eliminate the harm of ten thousand men!"

Feng Yan bowed deeply to Bao Yong: "I only hope, Junzhang, that you will give me some time. I am certain I can persuade Diwu Lun to change his banners and join the great cause of restoring the House of Han!"

Bao Yong still did not relent: "So, Jingtong, you wish to be a lobbyist to both sides?"

Feng Yan's expression turned serious: "No. I have only met Diwu Lun a few times, but with you, Junzhang, I share over ten years of friendship. My loyalty to him is not even as much as it was to the General of Renewal, Lian Dan. It is merely a pretense."

This was the truth. In terms of closeness, Bao Yong and Feng Yan were naturally more intimate and trusting, but in terms of prospects for development, Diwu Lun's large commandery of Weicheng was somewhat better.

So, you see, it's also very hard for me to choose.

Feng Yan was not exactly trying to play both sides, but rather to fulfill the boast he had made before Diwu Lun, and knowing Bao Yong's temperament, he could only proceed this way.

After much earnest persuasion, he finally got Bao Yong to reluctantly agree. He took Feng Yan to meet the Grand Governor of Shangdang, who was completely obedient to Bao Yong, and secured a promise not to obstruct the passage of Diwu Lun's old troops, and even to provide them with some food and clothing.

Having barely accomplished his mission, Feng Yan was mentally and physically exhausted, utterly drained. But the day's events had also given him an inspiration.

"It seems that restoring the Han is indeed the prevailing trend."

Following the imperial army, he had passed through Yu Province and Yan Province, then traveled around Ji Province and Bing Province, and he discovered that the popular sentiment for restoring the Han was growing stronger and stronger. Over a decade ago, the people of the realm had despised and loathed the House of Han; now, they missed it just as much.

Everyone only knew that Wang Mang had ruined everything, that life was not as good as before, and that natural and man-made disasters were so frequent. Things were better in the time of the Great Han.

All the former complaints were gone, leaving only a nostalgia for the past, beautified by human memory.

Just as Han Confucians liked to depict the Three Dynasties as an ideal golden age, under the tales of the older generation, their children and grandchildren would feel that life in the Former Han was far better than the present.

Feng Yan thought to himself: "Now the realm is in chaos and collapse, and the people cherish the virtue of Han, more deeply than the poets longed for Duke Shao, loving even the sweet-pear tree beneath which he rested — how much more so his descendants?"

"What the people sing and dance for, Heaven will surely follow."

Restoring the Han was the slogan most capable of winning the people's trust and most easily rallying a crowd. But although Bao Yong shouted it loudly, he was also at a loss as to whom to support for this restoration. Everyone was waiting for a hero to emerge across the heavens.

So the only thing missing now was a banner.

Feng Yan felt that after returning to Yecheng, he truly had to consider finding an opportunity to persuade Diwu Lun.

Should they become the first power to raise the Han banner?

"If we can be the first to proclaim it to all under heaven, men like Bao Yong of Shangdang will surely be able to form a true alliance with Yecheng. Find a descendant of the King of Zhao to support as emperor, such as Liu Lin, the Prince of Zhao to the north in Handan. The Zhao-Liu faction controls over twenty counties — such a massive force would be willing to cooperate, turning from foe to friend with Diwu Lun. The land of Zhao could be pacified by a mere proclamation, and the great endeavor would be within sight."

Feng Yan was a man who liked to make his own decisions, and his imagination was already running wild: "If this can be done, Diwu Lun's merit would be enough to make him Chancellor of Han!"

…

While Diwu Lun dispatched Feng Yan to form an alliance with Shangdang so that his old troops could pass through smoothly, he also pressed on urgently with the training of new soldiers.

"Thrust!"

"Withdraw!"

"Thrust again!"

On the open ground near the Zhang River, soldiers stood in formation under the sun, facing the straw men before them, performing the monotonous training of thrusting and withdrawing their wooden spears.

The slogan Diwu Lun gave his officers was: "As long as you don't train them to death, train them to death's door." Once battle began, these newly recruited raw boys would be lucky to find their own legs — the most reliable thing was the sense of discipline and muscle memory that each lash had beaten into their minds.

Of course, it wasn't that Diwu Lun enjoyed physically punishing soldiers. He had tried locking them up, denying them food and drink — only to open the door the next day and find the soldier inside curled up, sleeping soundly on the rock-hard floor.

So more often, punishment was changed to hard labor. But the soldiers were all from bitter backgrounds, mostly refugees — they could pick up manure buckets and work the fields as naturally as breathing, far more handily than swinging a blade or spear. After finishing the work, they'd wipe their sweat and grin at the officers, asking if they could keep doing labor tomorrow.

The final conclusion: beating them still worked best.

The three hundred convict soldiers Diwu Lun had personally recruited after entering Yecheng had long since all been promoted, every one of them now a Sergeant or Corporal. The branding scars on their faces or hands looked fearsome. Low-born as they were, the soldiers dared not scorn them — these convicts had been beaten for years and knew exactly how to hit a man where it hurt most.

Above them were Diwu Lun's old core — his clansmen, or the officers he had brought back from New Qinzhong and then to Wei, men of long service and high loyalty, all made Company Commanders or junior officers.

Thus, of the three thousand new soldiers trained over the past half year, one thousand were stationed at Liyang and two thousand concentrated at Yecheng. Almost without exception, they came from the very bottom, men with no way back — no different from the Boar-Rush Braves of old.

"I was a government slave and convict for ten years. Never ate a single full meal. Everyone scorned and cursed me. The daily labor was crushing. They'd clearly promised amnesty, but because the commandery clerks said there weren't enough government slaves, they dragged it out year after year, until my hair had gone gray from the waiting."

"It was Lord Diwu who pulled us out of the pit of fire!"

"Before, when I walked through the city, I had a straw rope tied around my hands, head bowed. People saw the tattoo on my face and they despised me, they mocked me. But now I walk through the city in soldier's garb, a blade at my waist, head held high. People see the tattoo on my face and all they feel is fear! Let anyone dare laugh again, let anyone dare glare at me —"

"— and I'll dare to draw my blade and kill him! Wipe out his whole family, make those who laughed at me into slaves. Lord Diwu will back me up anyway!"

Every day, when they assembled after eating their fill, it was an old tradition in each camp to have an eloquent speaker mount the platform and tell his own story. Most said that if they hadn't been conscripted into the army, they would already be corpses starved along the banks of the great river.

Of course, the speeches often went off the rails — the ranks were a mixed bag, after all, and many had been bandits. Decades of hierarchy and the law of the jungle had long since set their minds. Were it not for the strict military discipline holding them in check, who knows what these men, now tasting power, might do.

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And whenever Diwu Lun came to the camp, that was the soldiers' happiest time.

Over these months, Diwu Lun had been shuttling constantly between Yecheng and the army camp. Civil governance could not be left to run itself — and the military even less so.

It wasn't that he distrusted Ma Yuan and the others; it was that the soldiers had to remember who provided their food and clothing, who gave them a path to raise their personal status through soldiering and find a way to survive in these chaotic times.

The junior officers played the villain; Diwu Lun played the hero. Every time he came, he brought meat and wine to reward the troops.

Wei was densely populated with little land — there were no fields for the soldiers to farm. Diwu Lun simply made them professional soldiers, with training packed tight on the schedule. He had already written down his experience training the Boar-Rush Braves onto bamboo slips as a drill manual, far more detailed than the terse military treatises.

From the most basic formations — standing, kneeling, sitting — to mastering the gongs, drums, flags, and pennants, and now to weapons training, it was more systematic than the Boar-Rush Braves' training had ever been. From time to time, he'd also send them east into the commandery to chase off Red Eyebrow splinter bands of roving bandits for live practice.

Diwu Lun also instructed his officers: "But this campaign at Wu'an will be much like when we fought the Han traitor Lu Fang and the Xiongnu — mountain warfare. So we must train not only formations but also individual valor. Wu'an and the other two counties lie against the Taihang range; it is a place where, in narrow passes, the brave prevail."

Of course, not everyone agreed with Diwu Lun's training methods. Geng Yan, who came from Daibei, for example — after reluctantly taking the post of commandery military advisor and spending some time down in the camp, he drew on his own experience and openly sneered at Diwu Lun's reliance on refugee soldiers.

"Emperor Wu of Han also recruited tens of thousands of refugees and wicked youths from the commanderies and kingdoms as soldiers to campaign against the Xiongnu and the Western Regions, yet they suffered defeat after defeat. They could fight when the wind was at their backs, but when they met a bitter fight, they scattered in disgrace."

"On the contrary, it is stalwart men from good families who can be relied upon when facing a great battle line."

This was the custom of recruitment in Shanggu. The two thousand Youzhou shock cavalry were all drawn from frontier households who could supply their own horses, armor, and weapons.

The white-horse youth watched the yellow-scarved refugee soldiers clumsily training and shook his head. "If the Grand Governor wants me to train troops and compete with Ma Wenyuan, then I don't want refugees. I want good-family sons who have already served, registered commoner households."

"Just give me five hundred men to train, and they will be worth three thousand refugees!"

…

PS: Chapter 3 at 18:00.