Chapter 439: Are You Worthy?

When Dou You was forced to flee Wuwei, his son Dou Gu, whom he had sent east, was living comfortably in Chang'an with good food and drink.

The Dou lineage was ancient and far-reaching, traceable back to the Dou clan of imperial in-laws in the early Han. After the death of the Empress Dowager Dou, who had once "ruled from behind the curtain," the Dou family declined with her, but their mansion had been passed down through the generations, occupying a fine spot among the noble residences of the Northern Watchtowers.

By rights, the head of the Dou clan was Dou Rong, and Dou Gu, as a nephew, should have lived at the main family estate. But his status was special — he had been sent as a token of good faith from Wuwei Commandery and even had to be kept hidden from Longyou's knowledge. Diwu Lun therefore granted him a new residence and assigned special attendants to look after him.

Dou Gu was only ten. To make him a Palace Gentleman for the King of Wei — a little too young. To make him the Crown Prince's study companion? Too old; Wu Ming could barely speak clearly yet. So Dou Gu ordinarily had little to do, merely presenting himself once every ten days on his father's behalf for the court audience.

Diwu Lun had been extremely busy lately, and it was only when he was about to deploy forces in Hexi that he occasionally remembered this child. During a meal, he found a moment to ask Zhang Yu, the Embroidered Uniform Commandant in charge of surveilling the entire city: "What has Dou Gu been doing recently?"

Zhang Yu reported: "Reading."

"Reading?"

"Indeed. Did Your Majesty not grant him a tally, allowing him access to the Tianlu Pavilion and other library collections? Dou Gu goes there whenever he has nothing else to do."

This made Diwu Lun set down his chopsticks. "A boy barely past ten — what books is he reading?"

"He reads widely among the books and commentaries."

The child has promise, Diwu Lun thought. He had heard Zhang Yu mention that Dou Rong's son Dou Mu was a notorious young noble about town, constantly mingling with the city's idle wastrels — likely to grow up into a second-generation wastrel who would bring ruin on his father.

But this Dou Gu — by all logic, a child in his early teens with neither parent around ought to be playing himself to death, yet young as he was, Dou Gu took no pleasure in idle amusements. Did he aspire to become a great Confucian scholar?

Still, Diwu Lun could not say for certain whether youthful self-discipline bore any necessary relation to future achievement. He merely took note of this young Dou Gu.

It was only then that he noticed the shift in forms of address and rebuked Zhang Yu: "I have not yet proclaimed myself Emperor — why call me 'Your Majesty'?"

Zhang Yu smiled. "Your Majesty already possesses the substance — why quibble over the name?"

"Substance and name are still not quite the same."

Since the start of the fourth month, Diwu Lun had been busy preparing for the enthronement. As his strength became sufficient, drawing the name to himself as well was a step that would follow as naturally as water finding its channel. Although he had decided not to change the dynastic name, the court's state policies would also take this chance to undergo certain adjustments, sounding the clarion call to unify all under Heaven. He would even use the enthronement to announce an "autumn examination," to fill the acute shortage of officials after his territory had doubled in size.

Within the State of Wei, people were quite delighted at Diwu Lun's intent to proclaim himself Emperor, for it meant new grants and rewards, giving everyone even more to strive for.

But a certain Editorial Director in the Tianlu Pavilion did not see it that way.

Ban Biao, courtesy name Shupi, was again writing furiously. Unlike the Discourse on the Mandate of Kings, which had been stillborn — crushed by the dimensional strike of paper and woodblock printing before it could spread — this time Ban Biao weighed his words carefully and composed a memorial in the attitude of a rational, objective, and neutral observer.

"In former times, King Wen of Zhou inherited the accumulated virtue of his ancestors, and with his own sagacious wisdom, held two parts of all under Heaven yet still was able to serve the Yin-Shang. When King Wu succeeded him, the eight hundred feudal lords convened at Meng Ford without prior agreement, all saying, 'Zhou may be punished now.' Yet King Wu held that Heaven's mandate was not yet knowable, and so he withdrew his army to await Heaven's timing. The August Emperor Gao of Han campaigned for many years yet still marched under the title of the Lord of Pei."

"Now, though the King of Wei's fine virtue is manifest, he does not possess the blessed heritage of the Zhou house; though his martial authority is stirring, it does not match the August Emperor Gao's achievements. Yet he wishes to undertake what cannot yet be undertaken — to call down calamity upon himself with such haste — how can this be permissible? May the Great King examine this!"

After finishing, Ban Biao read it through once, but hesitated.

"The King of Wei's head has been turned by the great victory in Hebei; he is single-mindedly set on proclaiming himself Emperor. Will he listen to words like these?"

With the "Green Han" abandoning their capital and fleeing south, the "Northern Han" collapsing with a crash, and the "Liang Han" dealt a heavy blow by the Red Eyebrows, the movement to restore the Han across the realm had entered a low ebb. Ban Biao's state of mind had also undergone a subtle shift — he was not blind, after all. Guanzhong under Diwu Lun's rule was gradually reviving, and none of the various Han regimes could match Wei in governance. This was an indisputable fact.

"The King of Wei is indeed a hegemon of his region." Ban Biao had to concede this point; even his form of address had changed — he no longer called him by his bare name.

Yet at the same time, Ban Biao was firmly convinced: "But he still lacks the qualifications to proclaim himself Emperor and found a dynasty!"

The rise of Zhou and Qin had relied on King Wen's blessed heritage and the six generations of accumulated ardor. In the rise of Han, Liu Bang had no ancestors to rely on, but he had his own heroic brilliance and martial sagacity.

When Diwu Lun had been propagating the idea that "the Han house's allotted fortune is exhausted," Ban Biao had written the Discourse on the Mandate of Kings to oppose him. At that time, he had summarized the five essential points by which Liu Bang had won all under Heaven. Now, Ban Biao compared them one by one with the King of Wei. Mule or horse — bring it out for a trot and you will know.

"The August Emperor Gao was able to rise for five reasons."

Ban Biao picked up one roasted broad bean from the table and dropped it into a jar:

"First, he was a descendant of Emperor Yao. If the King of Wei insists on tracing his ancestors, he originates from the Tian clan of Qi, which also makes him of the same origin as Wang Mang — both are descendants of Emperor Shun. This is roughly equal to the August Emperor Gao."

"Second, his physique was marked by many wonders. The King of Wei stands barely seven chi and three cun tall, his features utterly unremarkable, nor has anyone heard of him having seventy-two black moles or the like. Thus he falls far short of the August Emperor Gao."

"Third, his divine martial nature had portents and signs. When the August Emperor Gao was born, his mother dreamed she encountered a spirit; there was shaking thunder, darkness, and the strange sight of a dragon-serpent. After he grew older, there were many more numinous wonders: the wineshop sensed something and tore up his tab; Lü Gong saw his countenance and offered his daughter; even the First Emperor of Qin traveled east to suppress his vital aura; Empress Lü could gaze at the clouds and know his whereabouts. As for receiving the mandate — the white serpent was cleaved; entering the pass to the west — the five planets gathered. These are more than sufficient to prove Heaven's bestowal."

"The ignorant say that the King of Wei's rise was preceded by the omen of the Jing River silting up, and recently by Wang Mang's dream of five golden men; that when he raised his troops at Hongmen, Venus traversed the heavens, and the tale of the white fish in the He and Luo rivers spread far and wide. But Gongsun Shu has already laid claim to the virtue of Metal, and the King of Wei is unwilling to lower himself to the position of the virtue of Wood. Having no alternative, he can only proclaim that he possesses all five virtues in full — this is nothing but a tale to deceive fools."

"Thus in auspicious signs and portents, the King of Wei still does not match the August Emperor Gao."

Ban Biao picked up the fourth broad bean: "Fourth, he was magnanimous, enlightened, benevolent, and forgiving. The August Emperor Gao was able to enfeoff Yong Chi as a marquis. Yet Diwu Lun repays every grudge, and for the long-cherished wish of a single family and a single surname, he deported the eight Liu-surnamed clans of Hebei to Taiyuan and Shang Commanderies in Bing Province, dispersing them among eight counties."

Ban Biao naturally did not grasp the true reason Diwu Lun struck at the various Lius of Hebei; his perspective was only fit to fixate on the surface level. He even selectively forgot petty retaliations like Liu Bang enfeoffing his sister-in-law's family as the "Marquis of Gengjie."

"Fifth, he knew men and was good at entrusting them with tasks. The August Emperor Gao followed remonstrance as smoothly as flowing water; he would spit out his food mid-meal to receive Zhang Liang's counsel; he would pull his feet from the washbasin and rise to bow to Li Yiji's persuasions. He grasped the truth in a garrison soldier's words and severed his attachment to his homeland. He raised Han Xin from the ranks, took in Chen Ping as a fugitive. Heroes exerted their strength, and every stratagem was brought forth."

"Under the King of Wei's command, though there are many fit to be chosen as generals and ministers, barely competent in their various posts, yet as for strategists — he has one Feng Yan but cannot fully employ him... In this too, he does not match the August Emperor Gao."

Judged by these five points, Diwu Lun could only match Liu Bang on "origin" — in all else he fell short. Proclaim yourself Emperor — are you worthy?

Ban Biao secretly shook his head. In the end, he decided not to submit this memorial. The Ban family, young and old, were still in Guanzhong; he could not bring disaster upon them. He intended only to use his own personal action to express his discontent with Diwu Lun's enthronement!

He gathered the five broad beans in his hand, rose, and thought to himself: "While Diwu is a king, I can still collate texts and work in the Tianlu Pavilion. But once he proclaims himself Emperor, it will be different. Biao shall hang up his seal and leave!"

However, Ban Biao was a mere Editorial Director, a petty official beneath notice. Because he had never been proactive, he had never been promoted, sitting on a cold bench in the Tianlu Pavilion — and he had no seal to hang up...

"Shupi wants to resign?"

By normal procedure, the resignation of a minor Editorial Director like Ban Biao should never have reached Wang Long, the Minister of Ceremonies. But who could help it if he had joined the service early, back when Yueyang was still the provisional capital?

"Biao is ill." This was Ban Biao's pretext for requesting resignation, but he truly did not look well. After all, every time news of a Han collapse arrived, it dealt a massive blow to Ban Biao's confidence. Coupled with frequently staying up late to write furiously, this young man barely past twenty looked as haggard as an old man of thirty.

"After Shupi leaves his post, what does he plan to do? You are so young — if you do not serve the state, your talent will go to waste."

Wang Long found it rather a pity that Ban Biao was determined to leave. Even if Ban Biao had mentally picked apart the King of Wei in every way, he had done his substantive work at the Tianlu Pavilion very well. Naturally, he had also taken the chance to read through all the books his own family lacked, and even copied a set to keep with him — Ban Biao had also begun to accept "paper," which he had once despised. You had to admit, the stuff was light and easy to carry; even Ban Shupi had to exclaim how satisfying it was.

His traveling pack was already filled with a thick stack of the Grand Historian's Records he had personally copied, more complete than the Ban family's own collection.

This was also what Ban Biao intended to do.

"Biao has no talent for governing the age. I wish to cast aside official paperwork and sundry duties and devote myself entirely to the historical records. In the time of the former Emperor Wu of Han, Sima Qian composed the Records of the Grand Historian, but from the Taichu era onward, it is left blank with no record. Though later men like Master Chu added supplements, they are mostly vulgar and unworthy to continue that work."

"Biao wishes to carry on the task of collecting the leftover affairs of former histories, threading together disparate accounts, to compose a Sequel to the Records of the Grand Historian."

Wang Long's heart stirred. He had originally intended to keep Ban Biao, but recalling the King of Wei's instructions, and thinking of Ban Biao's usual conduct, he hesitated and said nothing more. He let the man depart — let him go write his private history.

He only said: "When Shupi has finished writing, you must send a copy to the Tianlu Pavilion."

"That will be at least twenty years from now." Ban Biao was steeling himself with all his might; he was determined to produce a monumental work.

Since in reality the various Han regimes were all feeble and useless, leaving Ban Biao utterly disillusioned, he could only go revive the Great Han in his books — because the road was long and news scarce, Ban Biao knew very little about King Xiu of Wu in the southeast and had not yet regarded him as the light of the Great Han.

Wang Long laughed heartily. "Twenty years? I only hope I live to see it."

Ban Biao's departure did not upset Wang Long. For one thing, Wang Long now had no shortage of talent around him — many of those skilled in literary composition who had been selected in the last civil service examination were assigned to him. Losing one Ban Shupi was no great loss.

Secondly, on that matter, the King of Wei had decreed that one must be "politically reliable." At the very least, one had to be sincerely devoted to the King of Wei's cause. Those who still clung to the previous dynasty and could not move on were to be excluded — they were not fit to undertake this task.

Wang Long seemed to pay no mind to trifles, yet he too had noticed: whenever Ban Biao heard news of a great Wei army victory or a Han defeat, his face would always stiffen, as though he were wearing a mask of agony. Such an obvious attitude — Wang Long saw it clearly.

This was also why, despite Ban Biao's seniority and diligence in his work, he was never promoted. Wang Long feared that if Ban Biao ever gained direct contact with the King of Wei, his true colors would be exposed! After all, the King of Wei might not even know that a minor figure like Ban Biao existed within his administration right now.

"A pity. Ban Biao cannot be used by Wei. He can only be an idle scholar in the countryside."

Wang Long sighed. "His Majesty said we must take history as a mirror. He also ordered me to gather more talent well-versed in the classics, histories, and literary traditions, and to prepare over several years. Once the realm is settled in the future, we shall spend a decade of effort, pooling everyone's strength, and properly compile a Book of Han!"