Chapter 354

Zhang Song stood outside the Zhang family's old residence in Shangguan Ward. He had been gone barely half a year, yet the place had already been wrecked by marauding soldiers beyond recognition — the gate smashed in, every jar and vessel vanished without a trace. A circuit through the alleyways showed that most of his former neighbors had disappeared. Some had died in the chaos of war; others, having once thrown their lot in with Liu Bosheng, had fled with their entire households to Hanzhong, fearing Diwu Lun's purge.

Ah, but who told them not to flee with him to the northern bank of the Wei River when they had the chance? Old Zhang Song dared not boast of much, but his political instincts were remarkably keen.

Yet one old neighbor remained. Zhang Song rapped his pigeon-staff against the gate of his good friend Chen Zun's home.

"Congratulations, Brother Menggong!"

Zhang Song leaned in with a grin and said in a low voice, "Promoted to Governor of the Capital!"

"How does Bosong already know? Come in, quickly." Chen Zun, the renowned Confucian knight-errant famed throughout the capital in the late Han and Wang Mang eras, had a far better reputation than Zhang Song. Diwu Lun had already absorbed him into the ruling group, using his prestige to pacify the remaining scholars and powerful clans of Guanzhong. After entering the capital, Diwu Lun had summoned him and said he intended to make him Governor of the Capital — the equivalent of mayor of the imperial city...

"The King of Wei knows how to judge men and assign them their roles," Zhang Song, who had his own channels of information, said. "Menggong's grandfather once held the post of Governor of the Capital."

Chen Zun laughed. "And was your grandfather, Zhang Bosong, not the 'Eyebrow-Painting Governor of the Capital'?"

Both men came from families with deep roots in the office. They had entered officialdom together in their youth as clerks of the capital, and both were thoroughly familiar with the city's public order. Chen Zun, moreover, had served three times as a regional official of the two-thousand-bushel rank and possessed rich experience in governing commanderies. Diwu Lun had no perfectly suitable candidate, so appointing him was a way to make use of his remaining vitality. The capital lay in ruins with everything waiting to be rebuilt; it needed someone who knew the workings of the place.

"But Menggong, your habits will have to differ somewhat from what they were in the late Han and under the Xin dynasty."

Zhang Song offered a well-meaning warning: "Back then, you caroused day and night, your gate thronged with carriages and riders, your banquets and feasts an unbroken stream. When you were Governor of Henan, you actually rode the official carriage to a widow's house, set out wine and sang songs, then leapt up and danced wildly — only to stumble and fall onto the seat. You even spent the night at her home... In the end, you were impeached and stripped of your post."

"But the times are hard now. The King of Wei has already decreed that liquor may not be privately brewed. The court takes frugality as its chief duty in order to survive the famine. Menggong, you must restrain yourself. Do not offend the King of Wei with great feasts of wine and meat."

At this, Chen Zun recalled a piece written by the King of Wei's teacher: "You are like the earthenware jar. Observe the jar's dwelling — it dwells at the very edge of the well..."

Years before, when Yang Xiong had served as a Gentleman of the Yellow Gate, he had composed "An Admonition on Wine" to remonstrate with Emperor Cheng. In the piece, he imagined a drinker rebuking a proper, law-abiding gentleman, using objects as metaphors for men. The text read: "You are just like a blue pottery jar. Unwilling to hold fine liquor, you instead fill yourself with clear water. Unable to move left or right, you are tied to the well-rope, perched high above the depths. Once you slip and are shattered to pieces against the well's railing, you will scatter entirely into the Yellow Springs, your flesh and bones turning to mud."

"Such self-inflicted trouble is far inferior to the leather wineskin. For the wineskin is round and compliant, infinitely adaptable, with a belly as large as a pot. All day long it holds fine wine, and others still use it to draw more wine. It often serves as a vessel in the ancestral temple, resting in the rear carriage of the Son of Heaven, passing in and out between the two palaces, conducting the business of the state."

Chen Zun had been deeply fond of this piece back then, which was why his relationship with Yang Xiong had been quite good — though when Yang Xiong was persecuted, Chen Zun had also lost his post and was away from the capital, unable to help. This, too, was a major reason Chen Zun was now being reappointed. "Every man has his own nature. Merits and flaws must be judged by oneself. Bosong, weren't those your own words once? I am a wineskin, and I imagine the King of Wei wishes me to be just that. Why should I ape another's manner and imitate you, the blue pottery jar?"

"I did wish to be the blue pottery jar, but alas, I lack Yang Ziyun's lofty purity. What's more, even he was forced to stain himself with many a blot." Zhang Song said, "Under Wang Mang, I could hold not only wine but even piss. Flattery and sycophancy — I left no means untried. Whatever the meat-eaters wished me to hold, I filled myself with it."

"Then now you..."

Zhang Song said, "Now I am broken, stained, my name ruined. The King of Wei cannot well put me on display. But I must still take the initiative and do certain things."

"Back then, Yang Xiong and I were rivals in the literary world, always competing, each looking down on the other. Yet now I must write essays praising Yang Xiong's works. Is that not absurd?"

Zhang Song felt only irony. He was destined to be an ugly villain in the history books. With a bitter laugh, he said, "You and I are nothing more than a wineskin and a broken pottery jar. But Yang Ziyun has already been elevated to the rank of a bronze ding or a ritual gui vessel. He is to be enshrined by the King of Wei in the ancestral temple, ranked after Mencius, Xunzi, and Dong Zhongshu, truly becoming the 'Sage of the Western Way'!"

After entering the capital, Diwu Lun, besides restoring old Liu Bang's High Temple to demonstrate his magnanimity, also built a "Tian Wang Temple" beside it, allowing the Diwu clan's founding ancestor Tian Heng to enter Chang'an in open glory.

In addition, he announced that Xuanming Ward in the north of the city, as the former royal residence, would be elevated to the same status as Shangguan Ward and Qi Ward — causing the ward's previously depressed housing prices to soar in response...

He also, in fond remembrance of his late teacher, renovated "Ziyun's Residence" and would go there to offer sacrifices on festivals and anniversaries.

And Yang Xiong's many works were deposited in the Tianlu Pavilion, placed alongside the works of Mencius and Xunzi.

Zheng Tong, whom Diwu Lun had transferred back and appointed "Commandant of the Weiyang Palace Guards," watched cartload after cartload of books being brought from Yueyang into the Tianlu and Qilin Pavilions. Utterly ill at ease, he asked "Commandant of the Jianzhang Palace Guards" Zang Nu beside him, "Is this what we do all day? Watch the gates, make a circuit around the palace buildings, and watch these books being carted into the palace?"

What else? Guarding the palace precincts — was that not precisely the task of a Commandant of the Guards? Zang Nu laughed. "How is it any different from holding the pass at Yao Pass?"

Since Diwu Lun had decided to hold the southeast without attacking for now, there were no battles to fight, so indeed there was little difference. Moreover, transferring Zheng Tong and his deathsworn soldiers to serve as the first garrison of Jianzhang Palace was a mark of trust in them — and a chance to gild their credentials.

As in the Han, Diwu Lun split the office of Commandant of the Guards in two, separating the defense of the court from that of the palace, though both still belonged to the "Nine Ministers." This amounted to a promotion for Zheng Tong. If war truly broke out again, he would still be dispatched to the field.

As for the previous Commandant of the Guards, Diwu Biao, he was reassigned as "Commandant of the Capital" — the equivalent of the Han-era Bearer of the Gilded Mace.

The Commandants of the Guards only needed to oversee the palace and court precincts, but the Commandant of the Capital was responsible for Chang'an's eight avenues and nine lanes. The troops under his command were mainly "soldiers serving for rations," able-bodied young men recruited from Chang'an itself — a case of using Chang'an men to govern Chang'an.

Today, the Commandant of the Capital's troops were out on patrol once more. The massive procession crossed Hengmen Avenue, with a vanguard of infantry in fish-scale formation bearing long halberds and long dagger-axes, followed by a dense train of chariots with banners fluttering. To the left and right rode scores of crimson-clad cavalry on spirited steeds — a full hundred men in all. In the center, Diwu Biao himself wore thick armor in garish colors, flanked by bodyguards, each gripping a great bronze cudgel plated with gold at both ends!

Patrolling the streets to overawe petty criminals was his task. Chang'an had just endured half a year of anarchy, and public order remained chaotic. Many alleyway bravos had grown accustomed to thieving and plundering; they needed to be taught a lesson, and it was fitting to use a tough like Brother Biao to grind them down.

Diwu Biao had to deal frequently with Chen Zun, the Governor of the Capital, since the populace and civil administration lay in the hands of the Capital Governor's office. These past few days, however, the focus of Diwu Biao's patrols was the Eastern and Western Markets, which lay on either side of Hengmen Avenue in the northern part of the city.

The markets were enclosed within walls, and according to the types of goods sold, the Eastern and Western Markets were divided into nine smaller markets, each two hundred and sixty-six paces square.

Each market had a tall market tower built so that market officials could ascend it and look down to supervise the entire market. After all, the Nine Markets had once been the worst place in Chang'an for public order, plagued especially by organized theft, to the great misery of the merchants.

A portly black-robed official stood upon the market tower, full of high spirits, surveying his domain.

This man was none other than Disi Xian. Among the Diwu clan, aside from the Seventh and Eighth branches, he was the only one with any real ability. His family had always been in trade, and he had done a great deal of legwork for Diwu Lun. After waiting bitterly for half a year, he had finally been given a substantive post, appointed "Chief Capital Market Superintendent," with the Eastern Market Prefect and Western Market Prefect under him, solely in charge of Chang'an's trade.

Disi Xian knew the Eastern and Western Markets all too well. For decades, his business had taken him back and forth between Changling and this very place. He recalled how bustling it had once been: the Wine Market, dedicated solely to the sale of liquor, had offered every kind of wine from every region. The Food Market had featured eateries and dog butchers, cooked foods arrayed in rows, the very stalls forming a market of their own. Next to the Food Market was the Spice Market, where cinnamon from the south and exotic fragrances from the Western Regions had wafted their distinctive scents.

When the Nine Markets opened, goods were sorted into their lanes, and the crowds were so dense that people could not look back and carts could not turn around. The throng filled the city and overflowed beyond its walls, spilling into a hundred side-lanes. Red dust rose in clouds, and smoke and mist mingled together. The cries of hawkers from every market rang out without cease; people came and went in a noisy, clamorous crush, and the market roads were constantly jammed.

In the years Disi Xian had sold coal briquettes for Diwu Lun, he had looked up at the market tower and the Five Equalizations Chief Market Superintendent upon it more times than he could count, and he had no idea how much money and goods he had slipped to the Eastern and Western Market Prefects as sweeteners. Now, at last, it was his turn to give the orders!

Yet the present state of the Eastern and Western Markets gave Disi Xian no joy. After half a year of continuous war and upheaval, the markets were so desolate it wrenched the heart. Merchants from other regions were nowhere to be seen. Two-thirds of the peddlers had either died or fled, and still others had joined the army just to get a mouthful of food.

When Diwu Biao brought his men on patrol to this spot, Disi Xian descended from the market tower to meet him. His words were inevitably full of complaint: "The trade routes to Ba and Shu are cut off, so the Spice Market, which relied on southern cinnamon, is completely deserted. Last winter, Chang'an suffered a great famine; the dogs were all eaten, and the butchers have no livestock to slaughter, so naturally the Meat Market cannot open. The eateries have been hit hard as well. With theft and robbery breaking out constantly, who dares sell food in the markets? The moment it's set out, starving people mob it and snatch it all away."

So if they were to restore the two markets to their former prosperity within a year, as Diwu Lun demanded, the first step was to get public order under control. Open robbery would be punished with the harshest laws. Thieves would be dealt with a bit more leniently — sent outside the city to do hard labor digging ditches.

Disi Xian said with bitter sarcasm, "The most flourishing market, as it turns out, is the Human Market."

The selling of sons and daughters was all too common. Diwu Lun could not even immediately abolish this wicked trade: human trafficking existed because people simply had nothing to eat. Banning it openly would only drive it underground, solving nothing. The most urgent task was to restore Chang'an's daily supply lines — recruiting the starving to open up farmland in Shanglin County, giving the common people a path to survival without selling their children and wives. That was the way to cut off the source.

With Diwu Biao's soldiers as his backing, Disi Xian gradually gathered the remaining merchants together and proclaimed the King of Wei's decrees.

"The official transport convoys of the State of Wei will give priority to shipping grain from the northern bank of the Wei, firewood and charcoal from Shanglin, and salt from Hedong, in order to meet the daily needs of Chang'an's common people."

Diwu Lun had divided goods into several categories: necessities, consumer goods, and luxuries. Necessities were to be guaranteed with full effort; the Grain Market, Fuel Market, Salt Market, and Cloth Market must be set up first. As a consumer good, the Wine Market could also open, but within the year, only fruit wine brewed by the government would be permitted to enter the market, with supply strictly limited. The Commandant of the Capital and the Governor of the Capital were to intensify patrols; anyone discovered privately brewing liquor from grain would be severely punished!

After somewhat reassuring the market merchants, Disi Xian also told them a piece of excellent news: "His Majesty has also decreed that for the rest of this year, when peddlers come to trade in the Eastern and Western Markets, the market gates will inspect but levy no duties!"

In the Proclamation Hall of Weiyang Palace, Diwu Lun was examining the reports sent by the Governor of the Capital and the Chief Market Superintendent.

"Reviving Chang'an's Eastern and Western Markets is indeed no easy task. As things stand, we can only rely on strong intervention by the government to rebuild the foundations of commerce."

These two markets were more akin to large wholesale markets, where bulk trade in goods took place. From there, peddlers would carry the goods in smaller lots to the neighborhood markets in the various wards inside and outside the city. Without them, all of Chang'an would be a stagnant pond.

Men like Ren Guang believed Diwu Lun was harsh toward merchants, but this was not really the case. What he aimed to strike at were the great magnates profiting from the nation's calamity. The small-scale trade of peddlers would be encouraged in the future. After all, a large ship is hard to turn around. If commerce relied solely on state monopolies, the lesson of Wang Mang's era — when the Five Equalizations and the Six Monopolies ultimately failed — was already profound enough.

This time, entering Chang'an again, Diwu Lun was far more composed than the last. Whether in terms of his official corps or his experience in governance, there was no comparison. It was no longer a hopeless tangle with no place to start, but a case of a hundred ruins waiting to be rebuilt!

And Diwu Lun had also received two memorials from the east.

"The State Commandant and General of the Swift Cavalry, Ma Yuan, in the first month forced a crossing at Baima Ford, burned the Greenwood army's grain stores at Wuchao, lifted the siege of Puyang, then pursued them to Guandu, routing the Greenwood King of Huaiyang, Zhang Ang, and annihilating three thousand of the enemy?"

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This battle sounded very familiar! Diwu Lun had been worried that while he was fighting in Longyou and busy consolidating internal affairs, trouble would arise in the east. Now the Greenwood Army in Henan had also suffered heavy losses and was even less able to cross the river. This put Diwu Lun's mind considerably at ease, and he only laughed and cursed:

"You're the one who's absurd, Ma Li!"

And the urgent report from Geng Chun in Wei territory made the King of Wei even more concerned.

Only then did Diwu Lun learn that in the first month of the year, a major incident had occurred in Northern Han!