Chapter 30: The Xin Dynasty's Refined Governance

The "big shot's" carriage procession took a full half ke to cross the bridge; only then did the bridge-guarding clerks and soldiers let traffic through.

Diwu Lun looked back at the long convoy, finding the flags painted with coiling dragons a bit dazzling. He asked Jing Dan, "Brother Sunqing, do you know who that was who just passed?"

The Xin Dynasty had comprehensively revived antiquity in its carriage and dress regulations — people of different status were graded by what carriage they rode and how large their retinue was. Diwu Lun knew little of such things, and with the court lately swept by a fervor for austerity, some emblematic regalia had been deliberately stripped away, making it even harder to tell.

"The carriage had vermilion-spoked wheels, a crouching-beast-and-deer rail, and its banner was a nine-streamer flag painted with descending dragons."

Jing Dan speculated, "According to ritual protocol, that should be the carriage of the Crown Prince or a feudal prince."

Wang Long, standing nearby, added, "Plus it had green-dyed carriages flanking it as deputies — the person inside ought to be an imperial grandson."

When crossing the bridge, Diwu Lun had taken a coin and asked the bridge-guarding clerk; sure enough, he got the answer: "It was the Imperial Grandson, the Duke of Gongchong."

The Han dynasty had inherited the twenty ranks of nobility from Qin. After Wang Mang replaced the Han, he deemed that a system of the Tyrannical Qin and abolished it entirely, restoring the Zhou dynasty's five-rank nobility. Below the Son of Heaven, in order, were Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, and Baron, plus the Li Fucheng rank equivalent to the former Marquis Within the Passes.

Apart from a few founding stalwarts — for instance, the State Preceptor "Liu Xiu" was enfeoffed as a High Duke — Wang Mang also granted ducal titles to his sons and grandsons. After the abdication and succession, it was still one family ruling all under Heaven.

And the Duke of Gongchong, Wang Zong, who had just passed by, though only Wang Mang's fourth grandson, was the most favored and trusted.

Jing Dan was quite well-informed on court gossip and said, "I hear that His Majesty's earliest title in the Former Han was 'Marquis of Xindu,' later promoted to Duke Who Pacifies the Han. The Marquis of Xindu title was then inherited by Wang Zong."

"In the ninth month of the third year of Jushe (AD 8), when His Majesty's mother, the Duchess of Gongxian, passed away, the assembled officials knelt and begged His Majesty not to abandon the realm. So Wang Zong performed the mourning rites in his stead, living beside the tomb for three full years."

And what was that? That was political credentials! Although Wang Mang had long since installed his fourth son, Wang Lin, as Crown Prince, the Duke of Gongchong, Wang Zong, was still seen as a strong contender for the heir apparent's position. He too feigned humility and welcomed scholars. Who knew if the Emperor might one day change his mind and pass the throne to this "fine sacred grandson"!

Diwu Lun understood. It seemed the imperial household had its own factional rifts.

The group crossed the bridge and headed southeast. It was late autumn and the evening was cool; the roadside trees rustled, behind them lay lotus ponds with withered leaves, and ahead loomed the majestic great city. Before they even reached the walls, the surroundings were already bustling.

Along the way, they saw broad thoroughfares and over a dozen neighborhood lanes. Every few blocks, they would encounter a market. It happened to be just after the evening market had dispersed; merchants bowed their heads counting the day's earnings, while servants drove geese and carried meat home.

This was still only the outskirts of the capital. Chang'an had twelve city gates. The gate they were entering through was the "Chu Cheng Men" due north, which Wang Mang had now renamed the "Jianzi Gate" — even a mere gate could not escape the clutches of the renaming maniac.

Scholars and commoners heading home after the market dispersed, along with the traffic of carts and horses, formed long queues at the gate. Jing Dan reminded Diwu Lun and Diba Jiao, "Besides our travel passes, we also need to have the da huang bu qian or huo bu ready, held in the left hand — only then can we enter the city."

This was not an entry fee, but because Wang Mang had tinkered with the currency so many times that people across the realm were unwilling to use the new coins. The Xin had therefore enacted a law: "Officials and commoners traveling from one place to another must carry travel passes and matching precious goods. Otherwise, inns and lodgings are forbidden to host them, and passes and fords are to detain them..."

But the problem was that the da huang bu qian, worth a thousand coins and a product of the last currency reform, had already been abandoned and would be completely abolished in another year. Yet entering and leaving the city still required it as proof — was that not laughable and absurd?

Having finally entered the city with great difficulty, Diwu Lun could at last take in the sights of the capital. In his imagination, Chang'an, as the capital for two hundred years, should have been a place where the common people were both numerous and prosperous, where the city's men and women were distinct from all other regions, and where wandering scholars rivaled dukes and marquises. In short, the capital's residents ought to have had some high-spirited confidence.

But the scene before him was a great disappointment. The layout was indeed grand and orderly, yet it lacked a certain liveliness. Whether on the main streets or in the neighborhood lanes, an oppressive atmosphere pervaded everywhere.

There were indeed quite a few carts and horses on the road, but each was more dilapidated than the last. The people of Chang'an, whose wealth topped the realm and who once loved nothing more than to flaunt their riches, now all vied to go out riding mares, or even ox carts.

The ornate decorations on the carriages had all been stripped away, and pedestrians no longer wore luxurious silks. Everyone was dressed in kudzu and hemp, in short-sleeved, narrow tunics, as if afraid of wasting cloth. Women wore no gold or silver hairpins, instead fastening their hair with thorny twigs. Long skirts were deliberately cut short by a section, and the shoes on their feet were no longer inlaid with pearls and jade — shabbiness was now prized as beauty.

It truly seemed like a return to primal simplicity, back to the age of the ancient Three Dynasties. But on closer inspection, beneath some people's coarse hemp garments peeked out gorgeous silk fabric — so it was all just surface work after all.

Jing Dan had long known of Chang'an's recent archaistic trend and said in a low voice, "The Son of Heaven believes that the state's emptiness and the people's poverty stem from extravagance and excess. Thus he decreed that the people's utensils must not be carved or falsified — hence this spectacle."

Half a month ago at the Changping Lodge gathering, Diwu Lun had stumbled right into this austerity trend by sheer coincidence, which was why Wei Ao had singled him out as a model and allowed him a seat at the upper table.

This trend had already spread, and the six commanderies and counties around the capital were enforcing it as well. Everyone had heard about it long before and had removed the decorations from their carts and horses before coming, even donning hemp garments. Diwu Lun looked back and couldn't help but chuckle: "Add a black coffin to the cart, and it would look like a funeral procession."

Upon arriving here, Wang Long took his leave of them.

"The Marquis of Qiongcheng's residence has a mansion in Qili; I'll be staying there. Brother Sunqing, Boyu, I'll see you at the Gentlemen's Office tomorrow."

After they bid him farewell, Jing Dan couldn't help saying to Diwu Lun, "Residences in Chang'an have always been more expensive the further south you go."

"Brother Sunqing even pays attention to Chang'an housing prices?" Diwu Lun was amused. "Where is the most expensive?"

"The most expensive, of course, is the Shoucheng Chamber — Weiyang Palace."

Jing Dan made a joke that wasn't very funny, then added, "But that's a priceless place. If we're talking about residences with a price, it would be the Northern Watchtower's Premier Mansions outside Weiyang Palace's Xuanwu Gate, also called Qili. Qili is flanked by the Gui Palace on the left and the Northern Palace on the right. It's mostly inhabited by hereditary ministers and imperial in-laws. The Jin, Zhang, Xu, and Shi clans once gathered there, and the Xiao family also has a mansion there."

"Next is Shangguan Hamlet, located between the Shoucheng Chamber and the Changle Chamber — Changle Palace. It neighbors the Jingzhao Yin office to the north and the Chancellor's residence to the south. Emperor Xuan of Han lived there in his humble days, and it's said to have frequent divine signs. The Four Assistants, Three Dukes, Four Generals, Nine Ministers, Six Supervisors, and the Duke of Gongchong, Wang Zong, and his brothers all live there."

"In these two places, a single residence can be worth a thousand jin of gold."

Diwu Lun simply thought to himself: if the first ring was the palace complex, then the Northern Watchtower's Premier Mansions were basically within Beijing's second ring, weren't they?

As for the Xuanming Hamlet they were heading to, that was already within the third ring. But a single residence there still cost as much as a hundred jin of gold and was not easily sold. He just didn't know when the Diwu clan had acquired it. Because the price was so steep, no wonder they were only willing to lend it to Diwu Lun, not give it to him.

Precisely because the cost of living in Chang'an was so high, Diwu Lun knew that Jing Dan, having left the main clan to make his own way and not being from a wealthy family, would struggle. So he took the initiative to invite him to live together, which would also make it convenient for them to look after each other.

"You've gone the wrong way. This is Xuanping Hamlet, not Xuanming Hamlet."

When they stopped to ask for directions, a hamlet chief holding a wooden tablet pointed them the right way. Hearing their out-of-town accents, he then asked, "Are there any womenfolk in the carriage?"

The group shook their heads, and soon understood why the hamlet chief had asked.

At the crossroads of the streets and lanes, straw mats were often spread out, and kneeling on them were several men dressed in plain white robes and wearing Confucian caps, with wooden buckets placed beside them. Their eyes were fixed intently on every passerby, especially men and women walking together.

If a man and woman got too close, or if some young couple, just awakening to love, forgot the ban and walked hand in hand, this group of white-robed men would spring up like hounds spotting prey. They would stride forward in a few quick steps, pull cloth banners soaked in red clay slurry from their buckets, and strike the "shameless pair" heavily!

Amid a flurry of shrieks, not only were the lovers' or spouses' clothes stained, but they also had to endure a harsh lecture from those Confucian scholars, who blew the matter out of all proportion.

The scene dumbfounded Diwu Lun. Only after asking did he learn that this was not a case of lonely singles taking revenge on society.

The hamlet chief said, "Those men in white are Erudite Disciples from the Imperial Academy. This behavior they've learned from the Minister of Works, Tang Zun."

The Minister of Works, Tang Zun, was one of the Nine Ministers. He had taken the lead in responding to the Emperor's archaistic austerity policies, and it was he who had stirred up this city-wide craze for surface projects. Emperor Wang Mang had even lavished praise on him, issuing an edict admonishing the dukes and ministers to "strive to equal him" — Comrade Tang Zun.

When those above have a liking, those below will carry it to extremes. Many people, seeing such virtue, sought to emulate it and followed suit. Those Imperial Academy students, driven mad by reading ancient texts, had taken to the streets in droves, strictly enforcing the Confucian ideal of "separate paths for men and women."

But in this era, attitudes toward sex were not as rigid as in the Song and Ming dynasties; elopement and remarriage were no big deal. Yet now, even walking side by side on the same path was forbidden — this was truly overcorrecting.

The hamlet chief, having been young once himself, detested this trend and grumbled, "How strange — how is it a violation for men and women to share a path? When we were young, the things we did were far more outrageous than sharing a path! If everyone were this prudish and cautious, I fear no one would marry and have children before thirty. In my opinion, not marrying by thirty and children not returning home to visit their aging fathers — those are the real violations!"

Chang'an should have been bustling with carriages flowing like water and horses like coiling dragons. But with all this turmoil, it had grown much quieter. No wonder — the city was in the grip of Wang Mang's and the purist Confucians' fanatical archaistic movement. Pedestrians hurried anxiously, not daring to linger, and an eerie strangeness pervaded every corner.

Having seen all this along the way, Diwu Lun was utterly speechless and could only mutter to himself, "Truly worthy of the Xin Dynasty — so full of 'refined governance'!"

The atmosphere being so delicate, they did not linger outside. Following the direction the hamlet chief had pointed, they walked east along the east-west Xiyin Street. Right next to Xuanping Hamlet was the neighborhood bearing the sign "Xuanming Hamlet."

Diwu Lun had no time to examine the layout of his new home's "community." Instead, he turned his head to look back at the palace complex to the south.

The evening sun was sinking, its twilight hues spilling over the city like rosy clouds. The palace before him was not as imposing and grand as the other buildings; its upturned eaves were, on the contrary, somewhat delicate. It stood alone to the north of the Shoucheng Chamber and the Changle Chamber, a self-contained entity, appearing somewhat lonely and forlorn.

Diwu Lun pointed at it and asked the Xuanming Hamlet gatekeeper, "May I ask which palace that is?"

The gatekeeping old man in the capital was different from those elsewhere; long accustomed to seeing princes, marquises, generals, and ministers pass by his door, he regarded two minor Filial and Incorrupt Gentlemen like Diwu Lun and Jing Dan as nothing special.

He lowered his head to check their travel passes and said, "It used to be called Mingguang Palace. Now it's been renamed — it's called the Ding'an Lodge."

The gatekeeper of the ward raised his head, looking none too pleased. "The person living inside is the August Royal Matriarch!"

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Diwu Lun and Jing Dan suddenly understood — they were speaking of Wang Mang's daughter, the former Empress of Emperor Ping of Han.

It was said that she had married into the palace at a tender age, amid the praise of all under heaven, and was widowed not long after. A few years later, the Great Han itself perished. So from Han Empress Dowager, she was re-titled "August Royal Matriarch" by Wang Mang, becoming once more the eldest Princess of the Xin Dynasty, living in deep seclusion within the Calm and Secure Lodge.

Reckoning her age, she was only twenty-two.

Such a status was truly complex and delicate. Diwu Lun glanced back a few times, then, hurrying before the sun fully set, entered Xuanming Ward with Jing Dan.

Compared to Diwu Hamlet back in the Changling countryside, this Xuanming Ward, though outside the second ring, was undeniably at the feet of the Son of Heaven. Houses stood side by side, dwellings lined the lanes. Not only were the roads straight and orderly, but they were also very clean and tidy. Every household had sprinkled water before their gates, sweeping away the droppings left by livestock and the withered leaves drifting down from the branches.

The ward's residents were also all people of standing, courteous and polite in their dealings. When a cart or horse passed by, they merely glanced at it casually before looking away — not like the clansmen of Diwu Hamlet, who would squat by the roadside and stare for ages at the mere arrival of a donkey cart.

Thinking of this, Diwu Lun shook his head and muttered to himself, "I've only been away half a day, and already I'm a little homesick."

Streams gurgled in the gutters on either side, and deep cart ruts marked the bluestone slabs. Following them all the way inward, they soon arrived beside a modest residence. Compared to the whitewashed walls and grey tiles of its neighbors, it showed some signs of dilapidation. A tall, old elm tree stretched its head out over the wall.

According to the address Diwu Xian had given, this should be the place.

Diwu Lun went to the front gate and knocked on the door. Diwu Fu got off the cart to move the luggage and clothes, but tripped over something and fell to the ground with a yelp.

Turning his head, he saw that lying beside the gutter by the residence's outer wall was actually a person!

"A... a dead man?"

Diwu Lun and Jing Dan came over upon hearing this. By the moonlight, they looked closely and saw it was an old man with completely white hair and beard, reeking of alcohol. Judging by the rise and fall of his belly and the occasional snores, he was clearly dead drunk. His mouth was still mumbling, speaking words too abstruse for anyone to understand.

"My body bears a hundred labors, my hands and feet are thickly calloused. Now weeding, now earthing up, soaked in dew and bare of flesh. The way of friends is cut off, advancement in the palace is slow torture. Where does the fault lie? It is you who have done this!"

As he spoke, he actually began to weep. Like a child, tears and snot clung to his white beard, a truly pitiful sight.

At that moment, the door opened as well. It was indeed the residence of Diwu Xian's family. A servant couple were watching the house and already knew Diwu Lun would be coming. They immediately lifted the threshold to let the horse cart enter the courtyard.

Diwu Fu had scraped his chin and was cursing under his breath as he continued working, but Diwu Lun had them carry the drunken old man inside as well.

"What if he dies inside?" Diwu Fu was unwilling. Touching his bleeding chin, he thought it best not to meddle in other people's business.

"It is already late autumn, and the weather is cold. If we ignore him, at his age, freezing for a whole night, I fear he truly might not survive the night."

Diwu Lun was quite skilled at hypocritically cultivating a good name, but he still retained a little kindness in his heart. Jing Dan also agreed this was the right thing to do: "Since he can walk about in Xuanming Ward, he must be a neighbor, or some family's elderly father who got lost while drunk. We cannot abandon him."

So Diba Jiao and Diwu Fu, one holding his head and the other his feet, carried the old man into the courtyard. They found a straw mat for him to lean against, covered him with a blanket, and had someone go boil some hot ginger soup.

The servants in the house lit a straw torch and shone it before the old man's face. Laughing, they said, "Isn't this the old drunken widower Yang Xiong from this ward? Which family did he trick into giving him wine tonight?"

Jing Dan, however, was stunned upon hearing this. "You say this man is the former Palace Attendant and Grand Master of Remonstrance, Yang Xiong?"

"Yang Ziyun of Western Shu?"

PS: The senior sister Gomiya Demu, who wrote "Flowers and Swords and France," has returned!

Her new work, "Glory of the Eaglet," is still set in France — a rebirth story taking Napoleon II.