Chapter 217: Stall, Just Keep Stalling

By now it was early in the third month of the fourth year of Dihuang. Diwu Lun had already learned that someone in Nanyang had declared himself emperor and restored the Han, but the awkward part was — since no one had known Liu Xuan beforehand, and thanks to the same beautiful misunderstanding that had reached Chang'an, Diwu Lun too had assumed the "Gengshi Emperor" was Liu Bosheng.

"So that means Liu Xiu is inheriting his elder brother's enterprise?" Diwu Lun could only understand it that way for now, and thought to himself, "But that reign title is truly ill-chosen. The moment Yanzhou folk hear the words 'Gengshi,' they'll think Lian Dan has come back to life — they certainly won't rally to it."

And with this development, the Red Eyebrows could only be pushed aside in the court's pacification strategy. Wang Mang was bound to concentrate all his forces to stamp out the Han restorationist power in Nanyang. Diwu Lun's intelligence network had already discovered that the neighboring commanderies had received orders to "each select elite troops, with their Governors and Grand Governors leading them in person, to assemble at Luoyang on the first day of the fifth month" — this had all the makings of a decisive battle.

As for Wei Commandery, however, Wang Mang had not ordered them to send troops, only to hold the river defenses and Yuancheng securely, so Diwu Lun could afford to sit on the sidelines and watch.

He sensed that the Xin Dynasty's final hour might be approaching, so a few days earlier he had quietly dispatched Diwu Biao with a hundred or so men back to Liewei Commandery, intending to persuade Diwu Ba to bring the family dependents through Shang Commandery into Hedong, and then via Shangdang make their way circuitously to Wei.

But the Diwu clan at Linqu Township numbered seven branches, with men and women, young and old totaling over ten thousand — how to move them right under the court's nose was a huge problem. Acting too hastily could easily lead to tragedy. For now, he would first notify the family to prepare for an armed relocation; after several years of preparation, his clan troops could muster two or three thousand.

Yet unexpectedly, Wang Mang actually wanted to summon Diwu Lun into the Guanzhong region to serve as a general and take part in the southern campaign. By Xin Dynasty rules, the family dependents of a high commander had to be placed in Chang'an. Before Diwu Biao could make it back to the old home, Diwu Ba and the others had already been politely invited into Chang'an by the commandery Grand Governor Zhang Zhan.

"What virtue or ability does Lun possess, to dare presume to such a great responsibility? In terms of seniority and renown, who among men like Grand Chancellor Wang Xun is not superior to me? Why seek the distant while ignoring what is close at hand?" After hearing the edict, Diwu Lun declined repeatedly.

"But His Majesty has taken a fancy to you, Boyu, and deems that none but you can shoulder this heavy charge." Wang Long too had been appointed envoy in the heat of the moment; what Wang Mang valued was that he and Diwu Lun shared the same teacher and were from the same hometown. In practice, however, the one who could really talk business was the deputy envoy.

An imperial decree could not simply be refused. Whether to carry it out, and how to carry it out, was another matter entirely. Diwu Lun had his men entertain the deputy envoy and the others with feasting and drinking, while he himself shared a couch with Wang Long, whom he had not seen in a long time, and over the course of that single night, pumped him dry of every scrap of intelligence Wang Long possessed.

Once he figured out that this unexpected appointment stemmed from the vigorous recommendation of the Guard General Wang She, Diwu Lun's first thought was of that Ximen Junhui who served as a retainer in the Guard General's mansion.

However rich his imagination, he had not yet connected this matter to Liu Xin. He assumed it was the Ximen clan up to their tricks, and sneered inwardly: "Ximen Yanshou and his son have always been shrewd — why have they suddenly turned foolish? Do they think my power has grown too strong and I am hard to deal with, and so they want to use Ximen Junhui to exert influence on the Guard General and have me transferred back to Guanzhong? I absolutely will not let them have their way!"

With the military strength and prestige Diwu Lun now commanded, whereas a year ago he still had to treat the Ximen clan with courtesy, now, even if he emulated Ximen Bao and threw the entire Ximen family into the river, the prominent clans and powerful houses of the commandery would only dare to shiver in silenced terror. The last one who refused to submit, the Marquis of Yangping, Wang Mo, had already been wiped out by Lord Diwu, who let the Red Eyebrows cross the river to exterminate his clan.

Of course, Diwu Lun would not be so crude and brutal. He had plenty of decorous means to deal with powerful houses who refused a toast only to drink a forfeit!

The operation to destroy the Ximen clan was put on the agenda, but what concerned Diwu Lun even more was the situation inside the Pass — after all, a year and a half had passed since he had hurried to Wei.

"Boyu has only been gone a year and a half, but Guanzhong is already utterly changed."

Wang Long was full of feeling, and spoke of the previous year's locust plague — truly a sky-blanketing, earth-swathed calamity. Fortunately it came after autumn, the weather already cold, and the flying locusts arrived a few days late, so the harvest was not too severely affected.

But hard on the heels of the locusts entering the Pass came over a hundred thousand refugees. After all, the previous year the lands east of the Pass had suffered both flood and drought, with harvests failing year after year. The disaster victims, with no means of livelihood, had no choice but to flee famine in all directions. Some joined the Red Eyebrows or the Greenwood, becoming roving bandits; others turned and migrated toward more prosperous regions in search of survival.

Guanzhong was forever their ultimate goal. Sima Qian had once lamented: "The land of Guanzhong makes up one-third of all under Heaven, and its people no more than three-tenths. Yet measured by its wealth, it holds six-tenths!"

Wealth and population always concentrate in the capital and its environs. Coupled with advanced irrigation works, the starving all believed that if they could just reach Guanzhong, they would have food to eat. Similar situations had occurred time and again under the former dynasty during the reigns of Cheng and Ai, and it was no different now.

Wang Mang, to his credit, did not leave the refugees who had fled right under his nose to fend for themselves. He still appointed relief officials, opened granaries, and distributed grain, allowing them to barely scrape by. But the refugees, never able to eat their fill, joined the bandits and harassed the Six Lieutenants' districts, which in turn made the already jittery and panicked Guanzhong even more chaotic.

If even the capital region was like this, then beyond the Pass, one dared travel any distance only with an escort of over a hundred men. Only upon entering Shangdang and Weicheng did things settle down a little.

According to Wang Long's account, Wang Mang's idea was precisely to make Diwu Lun — who excelled at turning refugee waste into treasure — a general, to conscript the able-bodied young men among the refugees within the Pass into soldiers, raising a force of several tens of thousands, to serve as deputy commander to the Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi. They would take the Wuguan road, rendezvous at Wancheng, and jointly attack the southern Greenwood forces and the "Han Emperor."

They were clutching at him like a life-saving straw. And when you thought about it, it made sense — even Yan You and Dou Rong had been defeated. Aside from the Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi, who had been kept in cold storage for many years, Wang Mang for the moment had no one left to use, and could only grab a Diwu Lun to serve as vanguard.

"Wei" means to preserve! Wang Mang had enfeoffed Diwu Lun as Duke Weixin — sure enough, he was hoping Diwu Lun would turn the tide for the Great Xin. Diwu Lun was so moved he nearly wept.

"When the Son of Heaven issues a decree, how dare one not obey? What is more, since my teacher, Lord Erudite, is besieged at Wan, as his disciple, Diwu Lun must go to his rescue!"

In contrast to his unrestrained questioning when alone with Wang Long, in the presence of the deputy envoy, Diwu Lun presented the very picture of a loyal Xin minister brimming with righteous ardor. He merely said: "Yet looking at Lord Erudite's defeat, it all stemmed from soldiers not knowing their general and the general not knowing his soldiers. I have heard that when Lord Erudite was ordered to attack the Jingzhou rebels, he brought only a hundred or so attendant officials, riding in relay carriages, and only began recruiting soldiers when he reached Yuzhou."

"According to His Majesty's strategy, after I return to Guanzhong, I will have barely over a month to raise troops, and must set out southward before the sixth month, to rendezvous with the Grand Minister of Works beneath Wan at the start of the seventh month. The schedule is even more rushed than Lord Erudite's was last year. Relying on myself alone, I fear I will be unable to keep the soldiers in hand."

Diwu Lun laid out his condition: "Therefore, I must bring eight hundred of my old troops into the capital to serve as officers, to help me whip the new recruits into shape."

The Eight Colonels of the Northern Army were stationed near Chang'an, their combined numbers reaching as many as forty thousand. Wang Mang needed his sense of security, and those troops would absolutely never be moved. So even if the Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi drained Guanzhong of soldiers, Diwu Lun's eight hundred men, compared to the Northern Army, would be a mere drop in the ocean — precisely a number that was reasonable and would not arouse suspicion.

Likewise, it was also a pretext for Diwu Lun to stall for a while longer.

"But without explicit permission from an edict, how would Lun dare bring a single extra soldier west? Regarding this situation, I must trouble the deputy envoy to make another trip back to court and report to His Majesty. I will use this interval to hand over administrative duties and reorganize the river defenses. Only once the Red Eyebrows' westward incursions are blocked and Yuancheng is secured will Lun dare depart with peace of mind. The moment His Majesty agrees, I will set out west at once. Should His Majesty deem it unsuitable, then even if Diwu Lun must go alone, he will race day and night to Chang'an and will certainly not delay military affairs!"

Making a trip for nothing — did that not count as a delay? The deputy envoy, though anxious, was helpless. Who could blame him, when the Emperor had dispatched the envoy so hastily, without considering many details? He could only accept the order and hurry back west.

From Wei to Chang'an was over fifteen hundred li in all, crossing the Taihang range and fording the Yellow River. Even with relay horses traveling day and night, it would take seven or eight days to arrive. If Diwu Lun then deliberately had the Wei relay stations assign "fine horses" with thorns jabbed into their hooves that would go lame after a few li, delaying things a few more days... this round trip would eat up twenty days.

Diwu Lun did not even go on his inspection tour of the counties, but simply brought Wang Long back to Yecheng — strictly speaking, for him, a Governor of Yanzhou, to keep lingering on Jizhou's territory was against regulations. But from the Wei gentry to the Grand Governor Ma Yuan, who did not regard Diwu Lun as the true chief official of the locality?

With the realm now in chaos, the court could basically not control, nor had any way to control, affairs east of the Taihang. Powerless Grand Governors were sidelined by local strongmen, while those territorial magnates with real power had plainly become feudal lords carving up the land, answering calls to arms but ignoring decrees.

Diwu Lun took Wang Long on a leisurely tour of the scenic spots along the way, and even remarked that Wang Long had come at just the right season: looking south this time of year toward the Qi River bends, the green bamboo was pure and luxuriant; if one gazed north toward the Zhang and Fu rivers, the mountain forests were deep and secluded, the rivers and marshes winding and circling back.

"Wenshan, taking in the full sweep of our Wei lands' lovely hills and streams, and flourishing culture, you could well compose a 'Rhapsody of Ximen Bao' or a 'Rhapsody of Yecheng'!"

Diwu Lun did not know that Cao Cao's Bronze Sparrow Terrace would one day stand beside the Zhang River — otherwise he might have decided to build one himself someday. Unable to compose such a piece himself, he would have had Wang Long ghostwrite a "Rhapsody of the Bronze Sparrow Terrace" for him!

But Wang Long was in no mood for that. He only sighed and said, "Back when we entered Shu together, I still had the leisure to trace the footsteps of the Master and composed a few new rhapsodies to commemorate our late teacher, Master Ziyun. Yet these past years, I have come to understand why the Master in his old age said, 'Rhapsodies are the trifling insect-carving and seal-script cutting of a schoolboy — something a grown man does not do.' It turns out that as the years advance, having witnessed too much ruin and exile, one can no longer rhapsodize in ornate phrases."

Diwu Lun looked at the deep furrows of Wang Long's brow, though he was not yet old. It seemed he was no longer forcing melancholy for the sake of new verses — the melancholy was real now.

Melancholy for this realm in upheaval, a state about to cease being a state, and families with no idea where their future lay.

"'The rhapsodies of the rhetoricians are beautiful to excess; the rhapsodies of the poets are beautiful yet measured.'" Diwu Lun recited this saying of Yang Xiong's as well, and his smile faded. "Indeed, unless one can, like Qu Yuan, compose verses concerned for the state and grieving for the people, ordinary beautiful rhapsodies are, in times like these, somewhat out of place."

"To thrive, the common folk suffer; to perish, the common folk suffer!"

After leaving Wang Long with this line, which would give him much to chew on, Diwu Lun's pace of travel remained unhurried. In a rush? Of course he was not in a rush. Although Diwu Ba had been "invited" to Chang'an by Wang Mang, foiling Diwu Lun's plan to get his family out first, the old master was still living in the finest mansions on the northern avenue, being well wined and dined.

The one who ought to be in a rush was Wang Mang!

The Greenwood forces in the south were growing stronger by the day, Wancheng was in imminent danger, and the Great Han had been restored. Every extra day this dragged on, one more county — or even one more commandery — in the realm would turn its back on the court.

This was different from when he had been in New Qinzhong and, upon receiving a transfer order, had to obediently turn back.

"This time, whether to go or not — the initiative lies with me!"

Using the pretext of needing to bring eight hundred officers and men into the Pass, Diwu Lun had this half-month or more while waiting for the court's reply — enough time to make ample preparations and weigh the pros and cons with perfect clarity. Who knew, given Wang Mang's habit of changing orders overnight, perhaps if he dragged things out, the matter might simply fizzle out.

Still, dragging it out all the way until the Great Xin itself was gone would be rather difficult. After all, Diwu Lun had no idea whether this Xin could hold on another year, or only half a year. Surely... it would not be that fast?

After returning to Yecheng, Diwu Lun settled Wang Long in with kind words, then immediately summoned his trusted aides to see him.

They arrived one after another, entering the commandery office individually. The first to be granted an audience, however, was that armchair strategist skilled at analyzing the realm's situation, Feng Yan.

Summer had not yet arrived, but Feng Yan was already waving a casual fan and had grown a long beard.

Ever since leaving Lian Dan to seek refuge with Diwu Lun, Feng Yan had been in Wei for the better part of a year, constantly traveling back and forth to Shangdang on Diwu Lun's behalf, maintaining "mutual protection" with Bao Yong of Shangdang and keeping Diwu Lun's communication line with Guanzhong open.

A few days earlier, after news arrived from the south that the "Gengshi Emperor" had ascended the throne and restored the Han, Diwu Lun had again sent Feng Yan on a trip to Handan to probe the movements of the Zhao Lius. He had just returned recently.

"My lord, the Zhao prince Liu Lin, and even Liu Yang, the Prince of Zhending in Changshan, though they have all joined hands with local strongmen to sideline their commandery governors and seize control of their respective commanderies, have made no unusual moves despite hearing of the southern events."

Diwu Lun was not entirely convinced — after all, he had always felt Feng Yan was not entirely reliable. "Oh? Have they not been longing all along to restore the House of Han?"

Feng Yan smiled. "Although the houses of Zhending, Zhao, and Changsha are all descended from Emperor the Classic of Filial Piety, as far back as Han times, Liu Fa, the Prince Ding of Changsha, was constantly looked down upon by Liu Pengzu, the Prince of Zhao. Over more than a hundred years, blood ties have grown distant; the same clan, but different hearts. Now that the southern Han has been reestablished by a cadet branch of the minor Marquis of Chongling, how could Liu Lin and Liu Yang in the north, who fancy themselves the noble scions of the princely houses, possibly submit willingly?"

In terms of lineage, in terms of rank, who among us is not more qualified than you? Why should we bow our heads and listen meekly to this petty upstart?

Of course, if the Han regime that Greenwood has enthroned were truly powerful enough to crush the Xin Dynasty, most of them would probably still obediently fall in line, hoping to restore their former princely titles. But now the court's so-called "million-strong army" has yet to move, and many are sitting on the fence watching the final outcome, unwilling to jump out too early.

Even Bao Yong of Shangdang was vigorously persuaded by Feng Yan to suppress his plan to raise troops in response: the several hundred thousand troops assembling at Luoyang in the fifth month are far too close to Ji and Bing provinces. Though no one knows their fighting strength, their sheer numbers are indeed frightening.

This is also why Diwu Lun, aside from considering his clan, cannot simply break with the court right away — timing is crucial.

So, he must stall.

He then mentioned to Feng Yan that Wang Mang intended to summon him back to court. Feng Yan listened and said with solemnity: "Back then, I urged Lian Dan with all my might not to be a loyal minister to the Xin to the death. I told him it would be better to entrench himself in a major commandery, pacify and nurture his officers and men, temper their resolve, draw in heroic talents, seek loyal and wise counsel, and await the changing times."

"But Lord Lian would not heed my good advice. In the end, his army was destroyed on the Central Plains, his body fattened the grasses of the wilderness, his achievements ruined and his name disgraced, the laughingstock of all under heaven!"

Feng Yan urged with all his might: "The overturned cart of Lian Dan ahead is a lesson one cannot afford to ignore. Now as I devise a strategy for you, my lord — seizing a major commandery, building an army and gathering talents, all this you have already accomplished. What comes next should be to await the changing times, and ultimately eliminate the scourge of ten thousand and bring benefit to the altars of state!"

"What is the scourge of ten thousand, and what is the benefit to the altars of state?" Diwu Lun asked Feng Yan in return.

Feng Yan felt the time was about ripe, so he bowed deeply to Diwu Lun: "The great scourge of all under heaven is none other than Wang Mang!"

……

PS: Chapter 2 at 18:00.