Chapter 233: The Meat-Eaters

(A sudden family emergency delayed me a little.)

In the half-year since entering the palace, Yin Lihua had already adapted from a sheltered young lady of a great house, waited on by others, to the life of a lowly maidservant who waited on others.

The Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household had not coddled her either. Though she no longer toiled day and night washing and mending as she had in the Lateral Courts, she still started from the lowest rank of slave, carrying chamber pots and emptying slop jars, and had gradually risen to a senior handmaid who need not bear heavy loads and attended at her mistress's side — after all, the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household had grown up in Xindu in Nanyang, and there were few women who could speak the hometown dialect with her and were educated enough to discuss the Classic of Filial Piety.

This was the first time Yin Lihua had ever seen the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household truly angry, and it was because of the junior eunuchs from the Shoucheng Hall. Acting on the Emperor's orders, they hoped that Wang Yan, as his daughter, could put in an appearance before the hundred officials at the Emperor's grand wedding and offer him congratulations...

"On that day, the Gongxiu Duke, the Gongjian Duke, the Muxiu Lady, and the Mudai Lady will all be offering their congratulations to Your Majesty. His Majesty hopes that the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household might do the same."

Those four were Wang Mang's children by concubines. They had come to Chang'an hoping to gain power and status, but after arriving they probably discovered that the Emperor's control over the imperial clan was far too strict — they had been freer and happier back in Xindu. Yet they could never return to Xindu either; that damned Liu Bosheng had burned it all to the ground.

Wang Yan was displeased. "They are they, and I am I. How can we be lumped together?"

Wang Yan's feelings about her father taking a new Empress were deeply complicated. Her mother had been buried barely two years, and he was already rushing to install a successor Empress — she was more than a little resentful.

Wang Mang had never been a man of lust. His great desire was all bent on transforming the realm and realizing his dream of the "Rule of the Three Dynasties." When he was Marquis of Xindu, he had fathered two pairs of children by concubines with a few serving maids, but after becoming Emperor he did not even take consorts, keeping only the old Empress as his sole companion.

Though Wang Yan had heard people say that her father had an affair with Yuan Bi, a slave girl who attended her mother, and that her elder brother, the deposed Crown Prince Wang Lin, had also secretly fornicated with Yuan Bi — and was afterwards killed to silence him and prevent the scandal from spreading.

Even if that were true, compared to the Han emperors and feudal kings, whose harems routinely numbered in the dozens or hundreds, Wang Mang's court life seemed utterly monotonous and dull.

Yet this time, besides taking an Empress from the Shi clan of Duling, the palace was also widely selecting virtuous maidens from the villages of Chang'an, arranging positions for one hundred and twenty concubines.

This was not because Wang Mang was so broad-minded that he wanted one last fling before destruction. Rather, it was Zhang Han and others who, wildly fabricating theories of yin-yang and mandate omens, argued that Wang Mang should install a Mother of the People to quell the dream of the bronze man at Changle Palace, and then, following the legend of the Yellow Emperor, "attain immortality through one hundred and twenty women." Had they not considered whether Wang Mang's body could even withstand one hundred and twenty women?

Nor did the superstition stop there. If he was going to marry, then marry — but he would not even leave the dead in peace. Wang Mang ordered the screen walls at the garden gates of Emperor Yuan of Han's Wei Tomb and Emperor Cheng of Han's Yan Tomb torn down and their surrounding walls defaced with black stain. This greatly displeased the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household. What next — would it be the turn of her own husband, the long-dead Emperor Ping of Han, and his Kang Tomb?

All of this made the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household behave with marked coldness. She stroked the mourning garments she seemed never to shed and said, "The three years of mourning for my mother are not yet complete. I fear I cannot comply with Your Majesty's wishes."

In Diwu Lun's telling, Wang Mang was a "good man," because at least he had treated Diwu Lun rather well.

But in the eyes of Wang Mang's own daughter, Wang Yan, he had been neither a good emperor, nor a good husband or father!

"He aspired to be a sage-king, yet in truth, whether ordering the family, governing the state, or bringing peace to all under heaven — he has accomplished nothing at all!"

"A daughter's heart turns outward."

Learning from the junior eunuch Wang Ye that his sole surviving legitimate daughter refused to attend the wedding banquet, Wang Mang did not grow angry. He merely sighed.

To become a sage, one must naturally relinquish some things ordinary people hold dear. When he forced his son who had mistakenly killed a slave to take his own life, Wang Mang had already made his peace with this understanding.

He had grown much thinner lately, for as the Grand Minister of Works on the front lines began his southward advance, Wang Mang, though outwardly composed, was inwardly deeply troubled and anxious. After all, one general after another had boasted in court, only to suffer utter defeat in battle after battle. For over ten years, if one counted carefully, ever since Wang Yi executed Zhai Yi and Yan You crushed the Lower Juyi, whether in foreign wars or civil strife, the court had won scarcely any victories — until Diwu Lun's great triumph at the Yellow River.

And so Wang Mang devoted himself ever more diligently to governance. To compensate for his shortcomings in military affairs, he even stayed up late reading military treatises, and when weary, would doze leaning against a low table, no longer lying down on mat and pillow.

Two men had been coming and going frequently in the Greenhouse Hall of late. One was the Grand Marshal Dong Zhong, who mostly reported on Diwu Lun's troop training and military affairs.

The Grand Marshal Dong Zhong reported that Diwu Lun was fully prepared to march on the twenty-fifth day of the fifth month. This army, from armor, clothing, grain, and fodder to oxen, horses, and pack animals, plus the soldiers' shoes, straw rain capes, and the like, would cost a total of one hundred and sixty million cash.

Considering, too, that Diwu Lun had come all the way from Wei with eight hundred soldiers, Wang Mang felt that they should still be granted some reward.

Ever since his currency reform in the first year of Shijianguo, Wang Mang had decreed that from the feudal lords down, none were permitted to hold gold, and he had gathered all the gold under heaven into the state treasuries to serve as backing for the court's issuance of high-denomination copper coins. Thus, whenever the authorities needed, they could mint coins like the "Large Spade Worth a Thousand" to circulate as a thousand cash.

Although the reform's results ran counter to his wishes and threw the realm's currency into chaos, a great deal of gold had indeed been collected from the provinces and commanderies. The imperial stores held ten thousand jin (Han jin) of gold per chest, with sixty chests still remaining, while the Yellow Gate, Hook and Shield, Storehouse Bureau, Palace Workshop, and other offices each held several chests more. As for the Changle Imperial Treasury, the Inner Imperial Treasury, and the capital and price-stabilization stores, their reserves of coin, silk, pearls, jade, and valuables still had surpluses as well.

These goods and funds were the fruit of over a decade of the Six Monopolies and Five Equals, by which the central government drained the provinces of their tribute, and they were not lightly touched. Only when the Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi took the field was Wang Mang forced to draw on a portion. Now he ordered that, at the standard of four thousand cash per soldier and officer from Wei, another forty million be allocated — thirty-two million for the rank-and-file soldiers, and the remaining eight million cash for the officers and clerks under Diwu Lun.

As for Diwu Lun himself? Was that grand mansion in the Northern Watchtower's First Rank not enough?

Though Wang Mang's coined money had become nearly worthless east of the passes, within the Pass the people were still compelled to use it. The rewards given to the army and the salaries paid to officials remained this currency. After its devaluation, it was barely better than nothing. Once beyond the pass, a thousand cash could not even buy a single dan of grain, and carrying it only added to one's burden. Some of Diwu Lun's men even joked that they might as well string the coins up and hang them outside their clothes — they could pass for armor.

But in the official report, this naturally became: "The Weixin Marquis and his soldiers are overcome with joy and bow in gratitude for Your Majesty's lavish bounty!"

The other man who regularly reported to Wang Mang was the Grand Prolonger of Autumn Zhang Han, who was in charge of the wedding preparations.

"The betrothal gifts Your Majesty bestows upon the Shi clan of Duling must not be less than those of the Former Han."

This was Zhang Han's suggestion. After all, the purpose of installing an Empress this time was for Wang Mang to show the realm that he was safe and sound and still had the mind to remarry. The people of Chang'an and the Guanzhong region had to feel that everything remained under the Emperor's control, so the pomp and scale could not be allowed to fall short.

"Under the old precedent of Emperor Hui of Han's betrothal to Empress Zhang, the betrothal gifts alone amounted to twenty thousand jin of gold." Zhang Han had good sense; having heard that the Lady of the Yellow Emperor Household refused to attend the wedding celebrations, he made no mention of the arrangements when Emperor Ping of Han had sought Wang Mang's daughter as Empress.

Wang Mang thought for a moment, then said, "Then let it follow an auspicious number and be increased to twenty-five thousand jin."

That was equivalent to two hundred and fifty million cash — and considering that gold held its value while copper coin depreciated, it was likely even more.

However much he might ordinarily scrimp and save in the palace, shortening long skirts into short ones, this grand wedding was meant to dispel ill fortune and rally spirits. How could he let it betray the look of a dynasty in its final days? It still had to be held, and held with great pomp and extravagance!

"In former days, when Emperor Xiaoping took my daughter as Empress, the betrothal money was two hundred million cash. I accepted only forty million."

Wang Mang still hoped that the Shi clan, his "father-in-law's house," upon receiving the hint, would carry forward the spirit he had shown back then — taking only the small change and returning the bulk of the money, thus saving the court a little now.

But no matter what, the money spent on this grand wedding far exceeded the cost of the great army dispatched to save the Xin dynasty from destruction.

Of course, a portion of this money Wang Mang had specifically set aside to "do good deeds."

"Since the onset of summer, the people have been in dire hardship. Though we have opened the granaries to relieve and aid them, we still fear it is insufficient. On this joyous occasion for the Xin, let porridge stations be set up at all the city gates of Chang'an. Bring out the sacrificial livestock kept in the Upper Forest, and bestow upon the common people five dan of grain, one pig, and one sheep per ward, so that all within the Pass may drink in celebration for five days!"

Yet during this time, Wang Mang overheard a loose-tongued young eunuch say that though His Majesty's great drinking festival had been proclaimed, inside and outside the city famine still reigned, and the people did not celebrate.

Wang Mang thereupon summoned the junior eunuch Wang Ye, who was in charge of this matter, and questioned him. Wang Ye, however, had someone bring in grain and meat stew purchased at the market and presented it, saying, "Your Majesty, those were false and slanderous words. Ever since Your Majesty's edict was issued, whether inside the city or out, this is what everyone eats! All within the Pass rejoice together with the Son of Heaven!"

The last time Wang Mang had left the palace was to visit Liu Xin. As for leaving the city, he could no longer remember when that had been.

He did not investigate further, accepting that it was truly so — and hoping that it was truly so! In this way, the purpose of his hasty remarriage would be achieved.

But as the sage Son of Heaven who carried the realm in his heart, Wang Mang's grace could hardly be limited to those registered in the capital's households. Even the refugees had to be shown concern.

"And the refugees outside the city — do they too have coarse clothing to wear and food to eat?"

The junior eunuch Wang Ye bade the Emperor set his mind at ease. From top to bottom, the court was now united in purpose, doing its utmost for the Emperor.

"Though they have no meat stew, they all eat yellow gruel, warm and fed all day long, and every one of them sings the praises of Your Majesty's benevolence!"

As for what the situation outside was truly like — if Wang Mang had the will, if Wang Mang decided to stop deceiving himself, he need only suddenly take his carriage out of the palace, without informing the officials, and walk the dirt paths and the lanes himself. A single look would tell him truth from falsehood.

The king's blindness was profound indeed. These scenes he could not see and these words he could not hear, but Zhang Yu and Zhu Di, who had recently been ordered by Diwu Lun to familiarize themselves with the routes around Chang'an, saw them with perfect clarity.

These two had been orphans Diwu Lun had found years ago near his family's small coal pit — either abandoned by their parents or separated from them during the Jing River floods. Both had now grown into young men of twenty.

Zhang Yu was tanned as black as charcoal. He had followed Diwu Lun on his travels for years, going to New Qinzhong and the Wei region. Though not highly educated, he had broad experience, was an excellent driver, and was quick-witted.

Zhu Di was somewhat fairer. A little younger, he had been left behind in Linqu Village these past years and placed in the charity school, studying alongside a group of children from the First through the Eighth clans. He was one of the few outsiders there, but also the most diligent and eager to learn. After studying mathematics, Zhu Di often helped Di Si Xian with the accounts, traveling back and forth between Linqu Village and Chang'an, and was thoroughly familiar with the area.

Though the two shared no blood ties, they still addressed each other as brothers.

After several days of coming and going, the sight they saw most often was the hungry faces of the common people.

North of the Wei Bridge lay one squalid refugee camp after another, rooted among the village lanes and farmland, like filthy blossoms spreading across the earth.

Nature the tyrant had repeatedly shaken the lifeline of the people east of the passes the year before — drought parched their wheat to death, locusts devoured their millet, hail battered their beans to death, and their last hope withered with each dying autumn seedling, driving them onto the road to death, leaving them no choice but to pour into the Guanzhong region. Though Hangu Pass blocked the main road, they could climb the mountains and follow the bird paths; even if they slipped and fell to their deaths, it was better than starving to death back in their homeland.

These people were settled on the land between the Wei and Jing rivers. The able-bodied among them had already joined the armies of Wang Yi and Diwu Lun, hoping only to earn a mouthful of food.

But the old, the weak, the women, and the children were left here, barely clinging to life.

Although the three bridges over the Wei were guarded by the Sharpshooters Camp, many still swam across the water and drifted to the south bank of the Wei, wandering near Chang'an.

Those with strength became bandits, robbing houses and waylaying travelers, so that merchants had to travel fully armed.

Those without strength became beggars. When Zhang Yu and Zhu Di escorted the coal carts along the road, they were often suddenly surrounded by gaunt old people, frail women, and children. They knelt on the ground, groveled, kowtowed, and cried out in mournful voices: "Have pity, have pity!"

They begged not only for food, but also hoped that Zhang Yu and Zhu Di would buy their scrawny children — though Wang Mang stubbornly refused to loosen the King's Land system, he had already relaxed restrictions on the private servitude law, permitting the slave trade to resume.

These children should have been at the loveliest, most adorable age, their almond-like eyes flashing with quick-witted light. But now they were gaunt and withered, shriveled like scarecrows, only their heads seeming disproportionately large. Hunger made their bellies swell; the dry climate of Guanzhong cracked their skin; their voices were parched, and they could only manage faint, mournful cries begging for food.

"Elder Brother, seeing them is like seeing you and me back then."

Zhu Di could not harden his heart. Every time he went out, he would bring back several children, and for this he often earned a fierce scolding from Di Si Xian.

He had thought this was already the worst misery, but Zhang Yu shook his head and told him that in Shouliang, he had seen scenes even more desolate: "Is Guanzhong the only place with refugees?"

Zhang Yu had once seen a mother with an infant and two older children out begging. The arduous long journey had exhausted them utterly. The mother sat on the ground tending to the infant and sent the two older children to a village to search for food. When the two children returned empty-handed, the mother was already dead, yet the infant was still suckling at her breast. There was a couple who killed their two children and then hanged themselves, because they would rather do that than hear their children's cries begging for food ever again.

As for people exchanging children to eat, that too was a common sight.

"It was not until Lord Diwu took charge of Shouliang, gathered the refugees, transferred grain from Wei, and demanded grain contributions from the powerful families, that the famine was finally alleviated."

When Zhang Yu spoke of that time, he grew quite animated: "Then he made the refugees tenant farmers, to till the fields for the soldiers who had been allotted land, collecting forty percent of the harvest as rent. The strong and brave were recruited into the ranks as new soldiers and given food to eat. Only then was the crisis in Shouliang somewhat eased."

"It was Lord Diwu who gave them a way to live."

But there were too many refugees across the realm. Those who flowed into Shouliang Commandery and received aid were but a drop in the ocean. Had there been any more, given the limited funds and grain Diwu Lun had at hand, it would have been beyond help.

And how did this Xin court handle disaster relief?

The Emperor announced that during the grand wedding, each village ward near Chang'an would be granted five dan of grain, one pig, and one sheep. But according to what Zhu Di had learned, at least in the wards they had asked, the people usually received only one dan of rice and half a side of meat. Where had the rest gone?

At times like this, the blame was passed up layer by layer, each complaining that this was all they had received when it was distributed to them. If one finally traced it back to the high officials, they would surely say impatiently, "The grain, pigs, and sheep were all sent by His Majesty to Hongmen to provision the troops! Blame the Duke of Weixin!"

Good heavens — several thousand pigs and sheep and countless measures of grain had thus mysteriously evaporated, while the homes of Xin officials at every level were thick with the aroma of meat, and they went out belching from full stomachs.

The Emperor had genuinely put up pigs and sheep this time to give the people of Chang'an a benefit, but by the time one pig was distributed down from the highest level and reached the common people, you would be lucky if a single bristle remained!

Ordinary folk might grumble and let it go — though their faces had a famished look, they still had some surplus grain.

But for the refugees outside the city, whose bellies rumbled with hunger and who had pinned their hopes on the Emperor's happy occasion for a mouthful of food, not a bit of the so-called "yellow gruel" ever came down. Instead, official physicians and ushers from the government came out with straight faces to teach the people to boil grass and wood into a paste...

This was said to have been invented by a certain army logistics officer who claimed to have concocted a pill that, once eaten, would stave off hunger for days. The "paste" they boiled was really just a mixture of grass, wood, and clay. They were not lying — once you ate it, it did fill your stomach, and even made it feel a bit bloated.

"I fear it won't be long before seven or eight out of every ten of these refugees outside the city are dead." Zhang Yu shook his head. Many among them were the families of the able-bodied men at the Hongmen camp.

"If only there were more grain in the charity granary."

Zhu Di looked at the crowd with pity, but Linqu Township had also had its grain requisitioned by the court for the campaign. And though the charity granary held a great store of grain, it was reserved for a great undertaking and could not be touched lightly.

In the past, Zhu Di had not known why Diwu Lun stockpiled so much grain. But recently, he had come to understand.

After making a trip into the city, the coal-ball carts stopped at the city gate. The gate guards merely glanced at them casually before letting them pass — Di Si Xian had greased all the right palms. With Wang Mang lacking the energy to fight corruption, the practice of graft and bribe-taking in the court grew more rampant by the day.

"Linqu Township's coal-ball business has always been good. Even in summer, the city folk still need them for cooking."

They entered through different city gates and exited through different ones. Many of the carts would pass by the noble residences at the North Watchtower, and this too was part of Diwu Lun's plan. On the twenty-fourth, amid the bustle on the eve of the grand wedding, Diwu Ba would use this to make his escape!

But just as Zhang Yu and the others were making their final trial run and scouting the route, two pieces of unexpected news were relayed to Diwu Lun by the Grand Marshal Dong Zhong.

"Yesterday, the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, Marquis of Tongmu Chen Chong, fell from his horse by accident and broke his leg. Though His Majesty was displeased, seeing that Chen Chong's injury was genuine, he has instead appointed the General Master of Fates Kong Ren to serve as army supervisor!"

"I know this trick well," Diwu Lun said with a cold laugh. Wasn't this exactly the ploy he had used back then to avoid serving as the vanguard for the Swallow-the-Hu General?

As for the second matter, it was equally startling.

"The commanderies of Tianshui and Anding in Longyou claim that Qiang barbarians have invaded, and beacon fires are visible along the Huizhong Road, threatening Guanzhong. Therefore, the troops they conscripted must stay to defend locally and cannot reach Chang'an!"

PS: Chapter 2 at 18:00.