Chapter 20: Don

After that little interlude, the two grew much closer — even Diwu Lun's way of addressing Jing Dan shifted from the somewhat distant "Literary Clerk" to "Brother Sunqing."

Though this big brother of his was over ten years his senior.

On the road to Changping Lodge, since Jing Dan was well-versed in the commandery's local history, Diwu Lun took the chance to ask about something: "Brother Sunqing, on my first visit to the Qiongcheng Marquis's estate, there's one matter I'd like to inquire about, if I may be so bold."

Diwu Lun voiced his puzzlement: the Former Han had many imperial in-laws, and apart from the Yuancheng Wang clan of Wei Commandery, who had been reborn as the imperial house of the Xin Dynasty, most had fallen into ruin. How was it that the Qiongcheng Marquis, descended from the Han Emperor Xuan's empress, still stood firm? Could there be some hidden connection?

Jing Dan said, "There is indeed a reason. Empress Xiaoxuan Wang had no son of her own and raised Han Emperor Yuan in the palace; she was honored as Empress Dowager, the Qiongcheng Empress Dowager. The Empress Dowager of Yuancheng, in turn, served her as a mother-in-law. The Qiongcheng Empress Dowager enjoyed long life, living into the reign of Han Emperor Cheng and becoming Grand Empress Dowager; she did not pass away until the first year of Yongshi — that's only a little over thirty years ago."

In other words, this Qiongcheng Empress Dowager had outlived the short-lived Han Emperor Xuan by more than thirty years.

Jing Dan continued: "In the first year of Yuanshi under Emperor Ping, the Qiongcheng marquisate was abolished when the main line's sacrifices ceased. When the Empress Dowager of Yuancheng heard of it, she was deeply grieved. Mindful of the bond of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law she had shared with the Qiongcheng Empress Dowager, she issued an edict enfeoffing Wang Jiangu, a collateral branch descendant, to continue the line. It has been passed down to this day."

The reign of Emperor Ping was only eighteen years past, so the Qiongcheng Marquis's house could be called an old tree putting out new shoots. The name Wang Jiangu sounded rather comical, though — back then, Wang Mang's name reforms hadn't yet been fully rolled out, and plenty of people still had two-character given names.

That cleared things up. The Empress Dowager of Yuancheng, Wang Zhengjun, was Wang Mang's paternal aunt and the great benefactor who had enabled the Wang clan to dominate the realm. After the Xin Dynasty was established, she was honored as "Empress Dowager Wenmu of the Xin," and Wang Mang treated her with the rites due a mother.

Thus, while the Han Dynasty's in-law houses — the Xu, Zhao, Fu, Ding, and Wei — fell one after another and were wiped out, the Wang clan of the Qiongcheng Marquis survived because Wang Zhengjun had personally decreed it. They continued to enjoy wealth and rank, becoming the foremost powerful family in Changling.

As they spoke, the carriage left the dirt track and turned onto a broader, hard-surfaced road, even paved with gravel. Diwu Lun could not help but sigh: to manage something like this in this day and age — they really were rich.

Jing Dan pointed out the land on both sides of the road and told Diwu Lun that it was all the property of the Qiongcheng Marquis's house.

In the walled orchards, fruit trees grew in groves; these trees served as the boundary markers of the Qiongcheng Marquis's fields, stretching all the way to the horizon's end. In the center, the fields were crisscrossed by paths, with many slaves toiling in them. Low-lying land had been developed into ponds for raising fish and snails, while slightly higher ground was planted with sandalwood, jujube, mulberry, and hemp. There were even small pastures for grazing cattle, horses, and the six domestic animals — truly a complete, self-contained operation.

This was a classic great-estate economy, fully capable of shutting its gates and becoming a market of its own. Diwu Lun looked on with a touch of envy.

"And this is only what the eye can see. As for the scattered estates and workshops elsewhere in the county, there are many more — all granted during the reigns of the Former Han's Emperors Yuan and Cheng, plus those gradually annexed over time. The total land exceeds a thousand qing!"

Good heavens — the Diwu clan's holdings amounted to just fifty qing. So this was the power of a Dou Zong powerhouse… no, of a truly great and eminent family.

Just then, they saw rising in the distance a sprawl of huts and lodges, with tall towers and linked pavilions. This was no mere fortified compound — it was practically a small town.

"That is Changping Lodge!"

…

The main gate of Changping Lodge was bustling with guests arriving for the banquet.

The Qiongcheng Marquis's household steward stood outside the gate with his hands tucked into his sleeves, smiling as his eyes took in every guest who approached.

It was said that two hundred years ago, in the early Han, after the wars at the end of Qin, the realm was still very poor. Han Gaozu Liu Bang could not even muster a carriage with four horses of matching color; the Chancellor and the Nine Ministers mostly rode to court in ox carts.

Times had changed. Now, when nobles gathered, they all rode sturdy stallions; anyone riding a mare was not even permitted to attend. If the horses pulling your carriage did not form a matched set of four of the same color, you would be too embarrassed to greet anyone.

The scholar-officials vied in extravagance, competing with one another as a fashion. A single horse cost tens of thousands in cash, and the grain it consumed was equivalent to the provisions of a middling household of six. A carriage cost over a hundred thousand, equal to the annual income of more than ten households.

But beyond all this, how else could they display their status?

Years of experience dealing with people in such circles had given the old steward a sharp pair of eyes. Without needing to ask, simply by looking at the carriages, horses, clothes, and adornments, he could judge a guest's identity and standing.

See that short, plump fellow with the enormous belly, who needs to step on a slave's back just to get off his carriage? The old steward smiled and bowed to him with clasped hands.

That was Fan Zhu, a descendant of the Former Han's Marquis of Wuyang, Fan Kuai. Though the man was merely a county magnate, he was most fond of currying favor with the rich and eminent. Today he had come riding a sturdy carriage behind plump horses; the carriage was inlaid with gilded ornaments and painted, the trappings adorned with silks and ribbons — that is, the carriage body was lacquered and painted, and decorated with silk trimmings.

Now look at the one who just arrived — even more impressive. It was Xiao Yan, the legitimate son of the Marquis of Xiaoxiang. The steward trotted over and prostrated himself directly before him, his tone deferential, his face wreathed in smiles.

As the only great family in the commandery that could rival the Qiongcheng Marquis, Xiao Yan's entourage was grand: a line of carriages and an escort of riders, the horses' ears hung with pearls, jade, and red tassels. His tall carriage was adorned with silver and gold on the left canopy stay, with silk cords tied and the shaft wrapped — the canopy top was inlaid with gold and jade, and even the carriage shaft was wrapped in fine, cured leather.

In an instant, this descendant of Xiao He had utterly outshone the descendant of Fan Kuai.

By these signs, the old steward made his initial judgments. Familiar faces were invited straight inside; for unfamiliar ones, a glance at the calling card sorted them into three tiers — upper seats, hall seats, and lower-hall seats — each with a designated attendant to lead them through the gate, while servants took the drivers, carriages, and horses to be stabled.

Xiao Yan, confident in his peerless pedigree, did not speak to anyone else but strode into Changping Lodge with his head held high. Fan Zhu watched Xiao Yan's retreating figure with envy, then lingered outside the gate, chatting idly with acquaintances.

The old steward kept his ears pricked for the gossip while continuing to scan the road. Two more guests arrived, and they made him frown.

The arrivals were Jing Dan and Diwu Lun. Their carriage and horses looked glaringly out of place among all the matched-color teams.

Diwu Lun's carriage in particular was a mismatched pair of a black horse and a yellow horse — neither fish nor fowl. The carriage itself was excessively plain: wooden wheel guards with no leather covering, long hubs with a few spokes, a rush mat and a thatched canopy, and the canopy bore no lacquer or silk ornamentation.

The moment they appeared, they drew the attention of the guests at the gate. Everyone, dressed in fine gauze, silk, and embroidery, turned to look, their faces full of amused interest.

Fan Zhu, whose thunder had just been stolen by Xiao Yan, now had a target to put down. He laughed and said, "The Qiongcheng Marquis's Double Ninth banquet gathers all the renowned names and eminent scholars of the commandery. How did such shabby guests come to be here?"

Jing Dan was, after all, the commandery's Literary Clerk, and the steward recognized him. He gave a slight bow, with a smile much the same as when he had greeted Fan Zhu, and invited him to take a seat in the hall shortly.

"Diwu Lun of Linqu Township in this county, long desiring to pay my respects to the Qiongcheng Marquis but with no one to make an introduction. Today, fortunate to receive the Marquis's invitation, I have come to present myself." Diwu Lun delivered the standard formal speech for attending a banquet in a measured tone, and as a gift he presented a wild pheasant with brightly colored plumage.

In this day and age, the gifts prepared for meeting and attending banquets differed according to one's rank: a serviceman presented a pheasant, a lower grand master a wild goose, a minister a lamb. Diwu Lun was a commoner, barely qualifying as a serviceman.

The steward had already swept his eyes over the young man from head to toe. By his estimate, the total value of his entire outfit did not exceed ten thousand cash — less splendid than even the higher-ranking slaves in his own household. Sure enough, he came from a small, humble family; the air of shabbiness assailed the nostrils.

The steward had heard of Diwu Lun's name, but the Qiongcheng Marquis had merely invited him in passing and had not given any special instructions on how to arrange him. True, Diwu Lun had made a name for himself in the commandery, but he was still a commoner, a mere plebeian. How could he be ranked alongside the great magnates and capital officials at the upper seats, or the bureau clerks and attached-lords in the hall? Better to place him with the commandery underlings and village magnates.

The steward therefore slightly retracted his smile, made a show of politely declining the gift several times on his master's behalf, expressed his welcome to Diwu Lun, and then courteously informed him: "Would the gentleman kindly take a seat in the lower hall shortly?"

…

"A seat in the lower hall?"

When Jing Dan learned of this, he was somewhat displeased, but Diwu Lun merely laughed heartily, looking completely unbothered. After all, it was the host's arrangement, and Jing Dan could hardly raise objections.

Since they might not be sitting together later, Jing Dan took Diwu Lun around first to introduce him to the eminent families and officials.

"This is the Commandery Merit Evaluator."

"This is Lord Fan, Attached-Lord of the Interior, descendant of Fan Kuai, the Martial Marquis of Wuyang."

Oh, Fan Kuai! Hearing a familiar name, Diwu Lun's eyes lit up — the fellow who ate a raw pork shoulder at the Feast at Hong Gate. His descendant certainly did bear a strong resemblance to a pig.

"This is Lord Fu, Attached-Lord of the Interior, descendant of Fu Kuan, the Scenic Marquis of Yangling."

Jing Dan introduced them one by one, but apart from Fan Kuai's descendant, Diwu Lun did not remember a single one. All he knew was that most of these people were descendants of the founding ministers of the Han Dynasty… er, remnants of the former dynasty?

Why were they all clustered in this county? A moment's thought made it clear. Han Gaozu was buried at Changling, and most of the old brothers who had fought the realm with him also chose to be buried near the imperial tomb, keeping Liu Bang company even in death. With ancestral graves there, naturally a branch of descendants would multiply and keep watch. Over time, this had formed eleven households descended from Former Han meritorious officials, known as the "Eleven Clans North of the Mausoleum."

The most powerful was, naturally, the descendant of Xiao He. The Marquisate of Zan had lasted as long as the Han Dynasty itself; when Wang Mang took power, he merely changed its name, re-enfeoffing it as the Marquis of Xiaoxiang.

The other ten families had fared worse, having long ago lost their marquisates and fallen to commoner status. It was not until the fourth year of Yuankang, seventy years ago, that Han Emperor Xuan sought out the descendants of the ten meritorious families and re-granted them their marquis titles.

But these people had failed to seize the opportunity. The wealth that fell from heaven dazed them; they continued to eat away their inheritance, and while they had learned plenty of ways to compete in extravagance, they could not be bothered to touch Confucian classics and statecraft, gradually losing all competitiveness.

Thus, when Wang Mang replaced the Han, these ten families, having no real ability, were demoted to Attached-Lords of the Interior — equivalent to Marquis Within the Passes — and became increasingly marginalized in the commandery, able only to attach themselves to the Xiao family.

Still, they had done all right. In any other era, remnants of the former dynasty would certainly have been the first to be purged. Wang Mang, however, continued to keep them like pigs, fattening them up — what a burden that must have placed on the state treasury.

"Hmph, fallen old aristocrats! Sooner or later they'll be swept away by the times."

Diwu Lun didn't realize that this thought of his cursed both Jing Dan and himself.

And the other party didn't look him straight in the eye either — so what if his reputation for twice declining office had spread across the whole commandery? Do you hold a noble title? Do you have an official rank? Did your ancestors ever prosper?

Without the corresponding foundation and resources, what use is empty fame? You're still just a little nobody.

And so the powerful families all smiled with their mouths, but their words held not a shred of respect for Diwu Lun. That Fan Zhu even patted his big belly and said with a mocking, barbed laugh: "Diwu Lun, is your household short of horses? No matter — next time you can come borrow one from me!"

Jing Dan grew somewhat angry, as if he had returned to the great clan gatherings of the Jing family in his youth, when everyone attended in splendid attire, and he alone, a son of a minor branch, arrived in shabby clothes, was mocked, and stormed out in fury.

Diwu Lun beside him, however, said: "Lord Fan, how noble! It's settled then — I will certainly come to 'borrow' one someday!"

Jing Dan glanced sidelong at Diwu Lun. This young fellow was far stronger than he himself had been at that age — neither shamed nor angered, taking the strange looks with calm indifference, only answering with a smile, not the least bit ashamed.

This made Jing Dan feel ashamed in his heart, thinking that he had lived over ten years longer than Diwu Lun in vain, and though he himself was an official, he was not as open-minded as the lad. He only thought to himself: "Though Boyu is so young, he has the nature of Yan Hui — a single bamboo dish of food, a single gourd ladle of drink, living in a wretched lane; others could not bear the misery, yet Hui never let it alter his joy. How worthy."

And so Jing Dan cast aside the discomfort in his heart. In any case, he had already resolved to be a good "incorruptible official," consistent inside and out — let others think whatever they liked!

What Jing Dan did not know was that Diwu Lun had come today to see which of the county's powerful families were potential future "collaborators" and which were "adversaries." Now that he had discovered the ten families here at the estate were all rather useless wine-sacks and rice-bags, he was too pleased to mind.

Diwu Lun already knew that the realm would descend into chaos in a few years — why would he care about those useless outward adornments? Just like the brocade pheasant he had given as a gift: the more brilliant the plumage, the more easily hunters covet it, until it becomes a dead soul beneath an arrow.

Borrow your horse, will I? Fan Pig, just you wait — this young master will keep his word and come knocking!

Don't think that just because you're jumping with glee today, you won't be put on a reckoning list tomorrow!

They chatted idly for a while; it was time to go in. But before the group could enter, a crowd came swarming out from inside Changping Lodge.

At their head was a noble lord dressed all in vermilion robes and wearing a long-distance-travel cap — none other than the Marquis of Qiongcheng, Wang Yuan, courtesy name Huimeng.

Fan Zhu hurried forward, wanting to greet the Marquis of Qiongcheng, but Wang Yuan merely nodded, not even pausing his steps, leaving Fan Zhu deeply embarrassed.

It was the same when he passed by Diwu Lun — after all, they had never met before, and seeing Diwu Lun's youth, Wang Yuan merely assumed he was some family's son or nephew brought along to the gathering.

Once he reached the doorway, Wang Yuan raised his arm and called out with a smile to everyone: "My lords, you honor me by attending this banquet — Yuan is endlessly grateful. Do not rush inside just yet; first, accompany me to welcome Wei Libationer. His outrider has come to report that he will arrive shortly!"

Since the host himself had said so, everyone gathered again at the entrance, gazing into the distance at the mud-plastered road, waiting for that most important guest.

"Who is Wei Libationer?" Diwu Lun asked curiously — someone who could make this insufferably arrogant Marquis of Qiongcheng come out to greet him personally.

Jing Dan said, as if it were obvious: "The great magnate of Longyou, Wei Ao, of course!"

…

PS: Begging for recommendation tickets.