Chapter 352: Can't Divorce Anyway

In mid-January, the Wei army stationed at Lantian welcomed their great king — along with many cartloads of salted fish.

Diwu Lun personally ascended Mount Lantian and received the two Assistant Generals, Cen Peng and Zheng Tong.

"The soldiers took Yao Pass in a matter of weeks, then held fast here through the bitter twelfth month — I have come especially to honor the troops! Kunming Pond is too far from Lantian; the fish would have spoiled in transit, so I had them specially salted with salt sent from Hedong."

Fish alone would not be anything too remarkable, but once cured with salt worth more than the fish themselves, they instantly became a rare delicacy…

Although Dou Rong governed Hedong and had over ten thousand Xin army captives laboring there, and the Xie Pond salt production had slightly recovered, output was still far below what it once was, and the supply to Guanzhong was extremely tight. The soldiers' mouths were so bland they could nearly taste birds; besides garrison duty, they also had training and military farming assignments — heavy physical labor — and eating lightly salted dry rations and bean-leaf stew day after day left them feeling utterly strengthless.

This salted fish stank to the nose, but it was meat after all — once cooked, it tasted fragrant, and with plenty of flavor, it could at least somewhat improve their rations.

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After completing his inspection tour, Zheng Tong petitioned Diwu Lun: "Though Yao Pass is taken, the Greenwood men still press at our flank. I beg to lead several thousand troops to seize Shangyu for Your Majesty, and take Wu Pass!"

He had heard that the six-hundred-li Shangyu corridor was narrow as a barrel — naturally, one thrust and it would open right up!

Diwu Lun neither agreed nor disagreed, and asked Cen Peng: "What does Junran think?"

Cen Peng considered and replied: "In my humble view, Wu Pass need not be taken in haste."

"The art of war says: territory not deep into the enemy's land is light ground. Ground advantageous to whichever side holds it is contested ground. Yao Pass is both of these."

"Ground to which I can advance and the enemy can also come is intersecting ground. Ground where the territories of multiple lords meet, and whoever arrives first wins the masses of the realm, is crossroads ground. The six-hundred-li Shangyu corridor is just such an intersecting crossroads — it grips the junction of Qin and Chu, commands the peril of mountains and rivers; a road to Nanyang sets the east astir, an entry into Lantian endangers the lands west of the pass."

"Territory deep into the enemy's land, with many walled towns at one's back, is heavy ground. Marching through forests, rugged defiles, marshes, and all difficult paths is crumbling ground. This describes Wu Pass from the Greenwood perspective."

"On intersecting ground, do not let your forces be severed; on crossroads ground, forge alliances; on heavy ground, plunder; on crumbling ground, keep moving."

Zheng Tong was dumbfounded, staring at Cen Peng, utterly baffled as to what all this circling verbiage meant.

Cen Peng said: "If Your Majesty intends to attack Nanyang in summer or autumn, then Shangyu and Wu Pass must be taken in spring, and preparations made early."

"But if Your Majesty's designs lie elsewhere, and the southeast is to be held on the defensive, then leaving Shangyu and Wu Pass in Greenwood hands would actually be more advantageous for our army."

He pointed out: "The Shangyu road is obstructed and hard to traverse. In the earlier struggle for Yao Pass, the Greenwood men suffered precisely from an overextended supply line."

"Now the offensive and defensive positions are reversed. The pass is in our hands; if they wish to strike, they must mobilize in force and exhaust their state's resources. Famine is certain to strike the east in summer; the Greenwood men will have no means to attack Yao Pass again. Even if they come, I am confident I can hold it!"

Cen Peng's answer greatly satisfied Diwu Lun. This was indeed his own plan: to devote the main energies of spring to restoring production. The sole military operation would be the General of Chariots and Cavalry, Geng Bozhao, leading several thousand men to attack Beidi, open communications with the old forces in Xin Qinzhong, and simultaneously construct a defense line against the Xiongnu and the Hu-Han — nothing more.

"An excellent Cen Junran! The art of war says, 'There are cities not to be attacked, and ground not to be contested' — you have explained it thoroughly!"

Diwu Lun praised him so. Had Cen Peng's seniority not been so shallow, and his prestige low due to his personal history, the King of Wei would have promoted him to a full-weight General.

But if a full-weight title was out of reach, a miscellaneous title would do!

"General Zheng, who fought at Shangyan, broke through Hedong, and seized Yao Pass — the foremost of our army — is appointed General Who Sweeps the Wilds."

"Junran shall be General Who Pacifies the Greenwood!"

That title made Cen Peng jolt. He raised his head and looked at Diwu Lun, but saw not the slightest trace of mockery — only encouragement.

"And here at Lantian, train troops well for me. Fish, salt, and provisions will be ample. When the year comes to march the army south, sweep away the Greenwood, and retake Wancheng, to comfort the spirit of my teacher, the Elder Uncle Shi — I shall still rely on Junran's strength!"

…

After concluding the troop inspection at Lantian, Diwu Lun turned his carriage train northward, intending to circle back to Weibei via Baling.

And just as he reached Bashang, he was met by the Chang'an elders' fourth audience petition.

Unlike the previous occasions, this time Guo You and his party had made a trip to Weibei and sought guidance from Zhang Song, the supreme master of sycophancy from the Xin Dynasty era. This time they came bearing a "Ten Thousand People's Memorial" collected from the one hundred sixty wards of Chang'an — in truth, merely signed by proxy by each ward head.

Diwu Lun received them with full ceremony this time, yet still sighed and said: "My virtue and merit are shallow and meager. I set out to chastise Wang Mang, to console the people and punish the tyrant — who could have foreseen that, because of the war with Liu Bosheng and Longyou, calamity would spread to the common folk of Chang'an? Life today is still worse than under Wang Mang. I lack the face to enter the capital, and dare only withdraw to Weibei. Chang'an should await a man of true virtue to dwell in it!"

Thus he refused the Chang'an people's plea for the fourth time. After Guo You and his group slunk away once more, Zhang Yu burst out laughing, while Zhu Di found it hard to understand.

"Since last month, besides recruiting troops and providing relief-for-work, Your Majesty has also sent men to deliver firewood and grain into Chang'an, opened gruel stations for the old and weak to come eat, so the people would not freeze or starve to death. Trade has resumed in the East and West Markets, and order has been restored in Chang'an. Why must the Chang'an people insist that Your Majesty return the capital?"

Diwu Lun smiled without answering, and told Zhang Yu to guess at the Chang'an people's little schemes.

Zhang Yu thought for a moment, then said: "In the eyes of the Chang'an people, unless this city is the imperial capital, it could at any moment be abandoned again by Your Majesty."

He added with schadenfreude: "This winter has been cold and hungry — the Chang'an people have learned their lesson, and no longer dare hedge their bets."

There was some truth to that, but it went further. Economically, Chang'an was a typical eastern capital: the palace and court quarters were vast, while the market wards and residential districts were small. The livelihood of Chang'an's city dwellers depended heavily on serving the palace and government offices. Without the orders from those offices, without the steady stream of grain shipped in from Weibei, could the two markets of Chang'an, and the ordinary people of this city, survive on self-sufficiency alone? They simply could not.

And for the so-called elders and scholars, they too hoped to gather around the new regime and reclaim their former status. If Diwu Lun did not set the capital at Chang'an, they would sooner or later be marginalized, and the properties in Shangguan Ward and Qi Ward that had taken who knows how many generations to acquire would plummet in value overnight.

Diwu Lun thought to himself: "The Chang'an people fear being abandoned by the regime — but in truth, they are the ones qualified to abandon the sovereign."

Back when Wang Mang rose to power, he had received a petition from 487,572 people in the Chang'an area, and thereby obtained the Nine Bestowments — he could be called an "elected emperor." Yet when Wang Mang fled in disarray, not a single person from Chang'an followed him; instead, they immediately opened the gates for Diwu Lun.

Diwu Lun regarded the peasants as the "parents who clothe and feed" kings, lords, generals, and ministers — but as for the Chang'an people, the relationship between them was more like a poor, humble couple who originally had no feelings for each other and merely shared a household to get by.

Chang'an, that scoundrel, had slept with many a fine woman. Old Wang Mang was aged and ugly, so Chang'an kicked him aside with one foot; yet Chang'an also looked down on Diwu Lun, this young maiden with a meager dowry, and yearned with all its heart to renew ties with its former former wife, the "House of Han" — only to discover that the Greenwood was even worse. Only then did Chang'an feel regret, and come weeping and wailing, willing to mend the broken mirror…

As if it were that easy! You spurned me then — today I'll make myself too lofty for you to reach!

That was why Diwu Lun had deliberately left the Chang'an people hanging for so long, refusing to relent. Without a full grand bridal procession, he would never again set foot in their house!

But in the end, he still had to go back.

"Guanzhong is far diminished from two hundred years ago. Whether to move the capital after the realm is unified is a question for later — but for now, there is no place more suitable to serve as the capital than Chang'an."

Diwu Lun had suffered plenty of setbacks. His makeshift administration had to be broken up and scattered across various counties. And the cultural caliber of Chang'an's people was, by national standards, relatively high; the young scholars had to be drawn into the regime. What was more, where else could he find such a large commercial and artisanal population?

The union of the new regime and Chang'an could not be called a match of perfect mutual love — but this was life.

"Make do together — it's not like we can divorce!"

…

"It's nearly done — just one last time!"

When Guo You came to consult him again, Zhang Song said exactly this.

"The key is to let the King see the Chang'an people's sincerity."

"Our sincerity could not be greater."

Guo You had run back and forth four times this month; he was dark and gaunt, and several of the old fellows had fallen ill and died. Every idea that could be thought of had been thought of — what new trick could they possibly pull off next time? They could only pin their hopes on Zhang Bosong. This man had once coaxed Wang Mang into transports of delight, not only winning a marquisate for himself, but also raising seven members of the Marquis of Anzhong's family — who had committed capital treason — to noble rank alongside him.

"For the next audience, you must choose the right place."

Zhang Song said: "To grow rich and noble and not return home is to wear brocade and walk in the night. The King of Wei is no exception. Now that the King's grandfather has returned to live at Changling, and His Majesty is heading toward Weibei — judging by this posture, he too means to return home. You must go to Linqu Village and pay homage again. The King will surely agree!"

Guo You was half-doubting, half-believing, but this matter, however discouraging, had to be done. Chang'an would either be the capital or be nothing at all. So in late January, he gathered over a thousand officials and commoners of Chang'an and hastened to Linqu Village, where they prostrated themselves before Diwu Ward — now a royal village — kowtowing and wailing.

"Over a thousand elders, scholars, and common folk have kept vigil at Chang'an's twelve city gates, day and night longing for the Great King and the King's grandfather to enter the capital. Even women and children have willingly gone to sweep and sprinkle before the court halls and palace gates. All say: 'The enlightened edict's sagely virtue is as towering as that; the King of Wei's glorious merit is as magnificent as this. Now he should enter Chang'an, dwell in Weiyang Palace — why on earth does he not come?'"

"Can it be that the pure-hearted of this whole city are too dull and shallow, making the King of Wei unwilling to be our father? We can only hope the Great King will not abandon his children."

Tens of thousands of royal clan members and Diwu Lun's fellow townsmen had all come to watch the excitement. While the Chang'an folk wept and wailed, these onlookers laughed with considerable delight.

The sound carried to Diwu Ward. Outside the old fortified manor of the Diwu clan, in the Hall of Village Benevolence, Diwu Lun sat face to face with the aged and failing Diwu Ba. Hearing the cries, Diwu Lun smiled. "They've chased us all the way here."

He had already made a grand circuit around Chang'an, his posture fully displayed, the timing about right. So he smiled and said, "Grandfather, the largest house in Chang'an — would you be willing to go live in it with your grandson?"

Whether because his heart's wish was fulfilled or for some other reason, Diwu Ba, who had been hailed as "Marquis of Ten Thousand Li," had aged greatly over these past months. The old man who once could mount a horse and draw a bow now lacked even the strength to chase Diwu Lun around with fire tongs.

Diwu Ba did not answer. He simply walked to the spirit platform in the ancestral shrine and lifted up the spirit tablet of the founding ancestor, Tian Heng.

"Our ancestor, King Tian, once faced south and called himself a solitary ruler alongside Liu Bang. Later, the King of Han became the Son of Heaven, while King Tian became a vanquished captive, and he felt deep shame. First he fled to an island in the sea, but to preserve the clan, he had no choice but to set out for Luoyang — because Liu Bang said he wished to see him. If he was willing to come, at best he would be enfeoffed as a king, at worst as a marquis. If he did not come, troops would be raised to exterminate him. Had it been so, there would have been no westward migration of the First through the Eighth clans."

"But when he reached a place thirty li from Luoyang, King Tian felt that facing north to serve him would be an unbearable humiliation. So he said, 'The Han Son of Heaven wishes to see my face. If I sever my head now and it is raced over thirty li, delivered within a single day, the features will still be fresh!' Thereupon he cut his own throat and had his retainers carry his head, racing to present it to Emperor Gao."

He sighed. "King Tian's farthest point west — he never even reached Luoyang, let alone the Han capital, Chang'an."

Diwu Lun understood his grandfather's meaning. "Perfect. The first day of the second month is an auspicious day; we can return the capital to Chang'an. We shall bring King Tian along to see the banners on the Han watchtowers of Chang'an changed to different colors, Changle and Weiyang Palaces transformed into the shape of our house!"

Diwu Ba nodded, cradling Tian Heng's spirit tablet. "But we must build a temple for King Tian."

"Build it. The burned Gao Temple of Liu Bang — I will restore it. And King Tian's temple will be erected right beside it, standing as an equal rival. The temple shall be larger, and its incense, offerings, and blood sacrifices shall surpass Liu Bang's." Diwu Lun agreed, then suddenly burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Diwu Ba looked at his grandson. Diwu Lun could not hold back his amusement. "It just struck me — if Emperor Gao of Han had awareness below the Yellow Springs and suddenly saw King Tian arrive uninvited, after two hundred years becoming his neighbor, with host and guest reversed, what would Emperor Gao think?"

Diwu Ba thought for a moment and said, "Emperor Gao was fond of women, and it's the same below the springs. He'd probably be having two ghost maids help wash his feet. Seeing King Tian arrive, he'd be so furious his beard would bristle and his eyes would glare, cursing his descendants for their uselessness…"

Diwu Lun picked up the thread. "But with Emperor Gao's heroic spirit, after all the cursing and grumbling, he'd likely push one of the ghost maids, along with a cup of Yellow Springs fine wine, across to him, and say…"

"'You stubborn man of Qi — you've finally deigned to come see me!'"