Prev
Ch. 307 / 70144%
Next

Chapter 307: Pride

~18 min read 3,457 words

Wang Long, Minister of Ceremonies, could no longer be called "the nephew of the Marquis of Qiongcheng," for he too had squeezed into the lowest rank of marquises — enfeoffed as "Marquis of Ganquan" — on the strength of his past service in liaising for the Wei-bei uprising.

Since Wang Mang had already torn down Ganquan Palace anyway, Diwu Lun carved the place into a county and gave it to Wang Long as his fief, because Wang Long's favorite work by his teacher Yang Xiong was the "Ganquan Rhapsody."

In early September, war clouds massed thick over Guanzhong. The Three Dukes and Nine Ministers of the State of Wei's makeshift court were either directly ordered to campaign or were supervising provisions and baggage. Only Wang Long, as Minister of Ceremonies in charge of rites and education, had little to worry about. He buried himself single-mindedly in the palace books transported from the Shiqu and Tianlu pavilions, sorting them one by one.

Yueyang, a detached palace of Qin and Han, was divided into inner and outer sections. Diwu Lun took the outer section for himself, but the inner section was not filled with women for a harem — instead, it was given over to books. This reverence for knowledge moved Wang Long deeply, and he could only sigh that they were, fittingly, both students of Yang Ziyun.

Grandee Liangqiu Ci, who was assisting him with the books, was somewhat worried: "Marquis of Ganquan, rather than laying out these bamboo slips so early, wouldn't it be better to keep them on the carts? If the rebel soldiers strike..."

"Liu Bosheng will not win."

"He won't even reach the walls of Yueyang." Wang Long directed men to carry the books in one load after another. "I trust the King and the generals."

Diwu Lun had said that he would sooner or later hand the entire Yueyang Palace over to Wang Long and the books, establishing a "library" pavilion. Besides preserving cultural texts, it had another purpose: to attract scholars.

Talent was always in short supply, and scholars especially so. Diwu Lun lacked the title of "Han" and came from humble origins, so he seemed at a disadvantage in drawing men of learning. He had pondered this and decided to emulate the example of Marquis Wen of Wei.

"After Confucius passed away, Zixia dwelt in Xihe and taught, becoming the teacher of Marquis Wen of Wei. There were also Tian Zifang, Duan Ganmu, Wu Qi, Qin Guli, and others — all received instruction from Zixia. For a time, a host of worthies gathered."

The Xihe School was a major event in the early Warring States period. Relying on a "great master" to attract scholars seeking learning, who then directly took office in Wei after completing their studies, Marquis Wen of Wei thereby acquired a great deal of talent and vaulted to become the foremost power of the Warring States.

Diwu Lun took Wei as his state's name and followed the example. Though he had no "great master," he did have books!

In this age, books were terribly scarce — not because bamboo slips were expensive, but because the schools of the Five Classics had extremely deep sectarian biases. They fell out with each other vying for Erudite posts and hoarded their learning jealously. If they could transmit it orally, they would never copy it by hand, lest too many copies circulate and people outside learn it without formally becoming their disciples, breaking their scholarly monopoly — then what would the Erudites and their disciples live on?

The court's Shiqu and Tianlu pavilions were also generally closed to the public. Unless someone like Liu Xin or Yang Xiong secretly copied a bit out by exploiting their official access, privately sending someone to borrow and transcribe was against the law. Even when a vassal king sought to read the Grand Historian's Records, he was suspected of ulterior motives — thought to be studying its schemes of vertical and horizontal alliances, its stratagems of the early Han strategists, its celestial omens and disasters, its terrain and strategic passes, all with seditious intent.

Private borrowing was even harder. Earlier, the Han Chancellor Kuang Heng had worked for a rich man for free in his youth just to borrow books; because there was a deadline to return them, he had to bore a hole in the wall to steal light. Later, Huan Tan was politely refused when he asked the Anling Ban Si to borrow books, and came away rebuffed.

Therefore, Diwu Lun believed that true scholars did not need to be deliberately summoned. One only had to spread the word: The books of the three pavilions may be borrowed and copied! And they would flock to him like ducks to water!

【Receive cash red envelopes】 Read books and get cash! Follow the WeChat official account 【Book Friends Base Camp】, cash/coins waiting for you!

So the duty given to Wang Long was very simple: "Wenshan, in this age of chaos, set out a quiet writing desk for me!"

These words moved Wang Long deeply. In this way, cataloging books was no longer just scholarship, but a political task. Books were as numerous as mountains and seas; Liu Xiang and his son, and Yang Xiong, had not finished cataloging them in their entire lifetimes. Wang Long and Liangqiu Ci were even less able to manage it all, which was why they wanted to summon some literate men to help. For instance, Ban Si, whose family possessed a copy of the imperial library's secret texts bestowed by Emperor Cheng of Han, was the foremost book collector of the Five Tombs.

In the end, Ban Si did not come; the one who came was his younger brother, Ban Biao.

"This junior, courtesy name Shupi, pays respects to Lord Wang. My elder brother is unwell and cannot fulfill the summons; he has specially sent me in his stead."

Ban Biao arrived traveling light — one carriage, one umbrella, plainly dressed, and so young that Wang Long envied him.

"I have long heard that Shupi of the Ban clan is young yet highly talented. Meeting you today, you are indeed no common man." Wang Long took no offense and led Ban Biao, the newly appointed Secretary of Documents, on a tour through Yueyang Palace, pointing out each room and explaining.

"This room holds the Six Arts."

"The rooms to the south hold the various philosophers."

"East is poetry and rhapsodies; north is military texts; west is arts and techniques; south is numerology."

The arrangement basically followed the divisions of Liu Xin and his father's "Seven Summaries," but on this foundation, Wang Long had separately carved out one more category.

"This room holds the histories. The Zuo Tradition, the Discourses of the States, the Roots of the Generations, the Stratagems of the Warring States, the Spring and Autumn of Chu and Han, and the Grand Historian's Records are all within."

Wang Long had also heard of Ban Biao's reputation, that he was fond of reading history, so he smiled and asked: "Which one does Shupi love most?"

"Naturally, the Grand Historian's Records," Ban Biao said, as a matter of course. "Sima Qian excels at narrating events and reasoning; his prose is fluent yet not florid, plain yet not crude, form and substance well matched — truly worthy of a fine historian's talent. I have read it no fewer than ten times. It is only a pity..."

Then Ban Biao's tone shifted, and it was all criticism: "But Sima Qian drew from the classics and commentaries, gathering materials scattered among the hundred schools, and there are many careless and sketchy passages. He excels at wide knowledge and broad records, yet his discussions are shallow and lack substance."

He then proceeded to pick apart Sima Qian's worldview: "When Sima Qian discusses scholarship, he exalts Huang-Lao and slights the Five Classics; when he writes on commerce, he belittles benevolence and selflessness and treats poverty as shameful, trumpeting great merchants and traders; when he writes on knights-errant, he slights those of high integrity and martyrdom while exalting men of worldly achievement. These are grave flaws that harm the correct Way. No wonder he angered Emperor Wu and suffered the punishment of castration."

Wang Long did not know what to say. This young man was so arrogant!

And the scholarship chapter he criticized was the one his teacher Yang Xiong admired most; the knights-errant chapter was Wan Xiu's favorite, which he considered worthy of accompanying wine; as for the commerce chapter, that was Diwu Lun's favorite — he praised Sima Qian as one of the few "literati who understand economics."

Once Ban Biao started criticizing, he could not stop. If he looked down even on Sima Qian, others were even less worth mentioning. He declared proudly: "The Grand Historian's Records covers from the Yellow Emperor to Emperor Wu of Han. After the Taichu period, there is a gap. Later, busybodies like Chu Shaosun, Liu Xiang, and Liu Xin patched together current events, either supplementing or continuing it, but their prose is vulgar and unworthy of being a sequel to the Records of the Grand Historian."

Wait — Wang Long recalled that his own teacher, Yang Xiong, had also supplemented a few chapters. Although Ban Biao deliberately omitted mentioning him, in his eyes, Yang Ziyun was surely also one of those with "vulgar prose." This was outrageous!

Wang Long was cultivated and did not lose his temper. He only thought to himself: "When Feng Yan returns one day, I really should have him debate with you, this young man whose arrogance exceeds the heavens, and see who is prouder!"

Ban Biao clasped his hands behind his back and declared his aspiration: "Given time, I wish to supplement the history of the Grand Historian's Records, following the ritual principles of the Five Classics, conforming to the sages' standards of right and wrong, and compose a Book of the Former Han."

Wang Long did not understand: "Why the Former Han?"

Because in Ban Biao's heart, Han's virtue had not yet waned. Though the Former Han was cut off by the Xin of Wang Mang, there would surely be a Later Han to continue it!

Ban Biao was not so foolish as to say this outright. If one wanted to persuade, it had to hit the mark precisely — what was the point of saying it to someone as inconsequential as Wang Long?

So he merely bowed to Wang Long and said: "This junior wishes to see the King of Wei, to thank him on my elder brother's behalf."

Ban Biao meant well. He thought he must have an audience with the King of Wei before the fighting broke out south and north of the Wei River, to lay out the talismans of royal mandate, so as to make him and Liu Bosheng cease war and make peace. Otherwise, if Diwu Lun were defeated by Liu Bosheng, the lands north of the Wei would suffer, and these books would be dragged down too!

Did he think the King of Wei could be seen just because he wished it? Wang Long shook his head: "The King is not in Yueyang."

"He is drilling the troops at the front."

Diwu Lun naturally had no time to listen to the rambling nonsense of Ban Biao, a young man addled by book-learning who thought he knew everything. For him, every day without battle was especially precious.

"Since raising troops at the end of the fifth month, there have been battles every month without a moment's pause. The soldiers are either fighting or marching. The days they can settle their minds to train do not exceed twenty."

Diwu Lun cursed inwardly. The tree desires stillness but the wind will not cease — that described his power perfectly. He was already in no hurry to gallop around claiming useless territory. After finishing in Hedong, he had thought he could develop in peace for an autumn and winter, but Liu Bosheng had come knocking.

If it had been anyone else coming, Diwu Lun's plan to divert disaster westward would not have come to naught like this.

Brooding was useless. He stood atop a watchtower in the outskirts of Gaoling County, waving flags to direct over ten thousand troops in combined drills.

Though there had been no time to train, after the battles of Linjin and Hedong, having shed some blood and been in formation, the soldiers were indeed vastly different from before. The rabble was slowly taking shape and could now obey orders and halt on command, though they were still not very adept with flags and drums, and in battle they relied more on morale to charge headlong.

Such troops could fight new armies with low morale, but if they met Greenwood elites with equally high morale, they might not gain the upper hand in a melee.

Diwu Lun had sent Jing Dan and Diba Jiao to Hexi and Huayin to guard against Wang Chang of Hongnong. He had also assigned Geng Yan and Peng Chong to the area west of the Jing River, the old "Right Fufeng" region of Han times, to set up defenses.

Diwu Lun himself led the main force — ten thousand soldiers and twenty thousand temporarily conscripted Wei-bei militia — encamped east of the Jing River to prevent Liu Bosheng from directly raiding Yueyang and smashing his lair.

Every ten li, he stationed a squad of roving cavalry to patrol along the river, from Right Fufeng to Left Pingyi. To be honest, defending was harder than when the Yellow River froze and the Red Eyebrows attacked. Because the Wei River stretched for hundreds of li, a forced crossing could happen at any point. They could only strengthen intelligence to learn of the enemy's movements.

But the opponent was clearly also a master of feint and real. One moment they stirred in the east, forcing Diwu Lun to dispatch troops; the next, their vanguard moved westward. The defensive line Wei-bei had to guard was slowly stretched longer, while Liu Bosheng patiently waited for the optimal moment to appear.

"Great King, let us not wait any longer. Let us take the initiative and fight our way across the river!"

Zheng Tong and others proposed this, but Diwu Lun rejected it.

"After crossing the Wei, what would we attack? Is there any place the enemy must rescue — the already abandoned city of Chang'an?"

True to their experience running with bandit gangs, the Greenwood men fought with great flexibility, nothing like the rigid New Army. From spies who had crossed the river, Diwu Lun learned that Liu Bosheng had massed his main force at several points, feeding them grain supplied by the powerful local houses. Along the Wei River, at a few detached palaces allotted to his troops, he had stationed small units and let them feast, drink, and amuse themselves extravagantly, coming to the river every day to wash their horses as a taunt.

If our side lost patience and crossed the river…

Then we would be the ones struck mid-crossing.

"Wait. The one who cannot afford to drag this out is Liu Bosheng."

In the present situation, whoever moves first loses.

Wan Xiu also had a worry: "After the autumn harvest, grain is ample, the soldiers' winter coats have been issued, training improves daily, and morale is high. The only thing to worry about is…"

He pointed at the officers and men, whose faces showed not a trace of anxiety, for Diwu Lun to see. "From the generals down to the common soldiers, everyone is thoroughly arrogant. They think Liu Bosheng is mere clay chickens and pottery dogs — defeatable with a wave of the hand, victory assured in three days."

How could they not be arrogant? In the three months since they raised their banners, every battle had been a victory, and all won with ease — especially that fight in Hedong, where Wang Xun's seventy thousand men were a heap of loose sand that collapsed before any real force was applied. If Diwu Lun were an ordinary soldier, he too would be walking on air.

Yet he warned himself: when fledglings peck at each other, victory is nothing to be proud of.

"Aren't you, Junyou, still level-headed?" Diwu Lun teased. That was exactly what he valued in Wan Xiu.

But aside from Wan Xiu, men like Geng Yan and Diqi Biao all looked down on the Greenwood Army. That was why he had paired Peng Chong, who had learned his lesson from defeat, and the seasoned Jing Dan as partners — to rein them in where possible, and where that failed, to at least send Diwu Lun a report.

As for his own side, Diwu Lun was not worried. Even when Ma Yuan was away, their way of fighting had become a set routine: Diwu Lun and Wan Xiu worked together on the main front, holding the enemy's main force, building solid camps and fighting dull, grinding battles; the flanking force was handed to young Geng, whose job was to work miracles.

"Though they say an arrogant army is bound for defeat…"

Diwu Lun looked at the Greenwood troops flaunting their might on the opposite bank and said, "The other side is arrogant too!"

Just like their regime, ever since the defeat at Little Chang'an, the Greenwood men had enjoyed one smooth success after another — and they even had a miracle like Kunyang. Had it been otherwise, Liu Bosheng would never have grown so strategically overblown as to want to strike north of the Wei.

"We are only arrogant on the tactical level, but Liu Bosheng — he is arrogant on the strategic level!"

The Wei River flowed quietly in the days before the great battle, until a letter from the east broke the deadlock.

When Diwu Lun opened it, he actually let out a breath of relief.

"On the tenth day of the ninth month, Wang Chang attacked Huayin."

"The battle has begun!"

…

Wang Chang's assault was extremely fierce. When Diqi Biao learned that two ambush detachments Jing Dan had placed on the foothills of Mount Hua to strike the enemy's rear had been discovered — that the Greenwood men had come swarming up the slopes, driven them back, and chased them off — he was astonished for a moment, and that swagger of his instantly vanished.

Since raising his banner at Hongmen… no, ever since he and Diwu Lun had started from scratch in Wei, Diqi Biao had never faced an enemy like the Greenwood Army. After all, his experience amounted to "a dozen-odd major engagements."

Their discipline was better than the Red Eyebrows', their morale higher than the New Army's. Their commander, Wang Chang, was no less capable than Tian Kuang, and his execution was solid: he knew to send troops out to sweep for the enemy, and he had nerve to spare. Fighting in the hills and forests came naturally to him; he was clearly a formidable foe unlike any they had met before.

A moment later, scouts came galloping back with urgent news: yet another ambush party had been discovered and forced to withdraw. Jing Dan's earlier plan — "lure the enemy deep into the narrow paths, then reenact the Battle of Xiao between Qin and Jin, converging to annihilate them" — had fallen through. The Greenwood men were all too familiar with that trick; they often laid the same trap for the New Army.

Diqi Biao could no longer sit still. If the Huayin narrows were pierced through, the Greenwood Army would have a clear path west into the heartland of Guanzhong, coordinating with Liu Bosheng to strike north of the Wei. Their own crime would be enormous. He sprang to his feet and said:

"Colonel Jing, this has become a serious matter! Let me lead troops out and fight the rebels to the death!"

When in doubt, charge in blind — that was how they had won every battle so far. Diqi Biao assumed this time should be no different.

A faint sweat had appeared on Jing Dan's forehead. He knew that in his first command as a main general, he had run into a tough opponent. Wang Chang was not bluffing — this was a real, all-out assault! Yet his eyes still blazed as he stared at the mountain terrain map. The opponent was different; this battle could not be fought in the same chaotic fashion as before.

"It's only an enemy probe. If we rashly sally out now and give up our terrain advantage, we'll be playing straight into their hands."

He gave a hearty laugh. "A small matter, a small matter!"

…

PS: Tomorrow's update will be at 13:00.

◈

End of Chapter

Prev
Ch. 307 / 70144%
Next
Prev
Ch. 307 / 70144%
Next