Chapter 443: The Story

At Hongmen there is a high platform. Seven years ago, on the eve of the northern campaign against the Xiongnu, Wang Mang came here to review the troops. Diwu Lun was still a mere Major then, meeting the Xin Dynasty Emperor for the first time.

Two years ago, it was also here that Diwu Lun took command of forty thousand motley soldiers, beheaded Wang Mang's envoy atop the Hongmen Platform, and sounded the horn of "comforting the people and punishing the guilty" — the call for the low to overthrow the high.

And today, the high platform has been adorned anew. Below the platform stand the hundred officials and assembled ministers; atop it are the Twelve Ministers. Though many officials could not all come because they must guard their respective regions, the Minister of Ceremonies Wang Long, the Commandant of the Capital Diqi Biao, the Minister of Finance Ren Guang, the Privy Treasurer Song Hong, the Minister of Foreign Affairs Feng Yan, the Commandant of Justice Peng Chong, and many others are present. Quite a few of them were also witnesses to the Hongmen uprising.

And his paternal grandfather, Diwu Ba, has also dragged his ailing body here and been arranged in a more comfortable spot. While others must stand, he is allowed to sit. But as his grandson's figure began to stride toward the top of the high platform, the old man could not help but rise to his feet, his hands trembling slightly.

When they arrived at Hongmen yesterday, Diwu Lun had spoken to him thus.

"Grandfather, do you still remember the promise your grandson made to you when he resigned from office?"

The old man, soon to turn eighty, is advanced in years and his memory is gradually fading. For a moment he could not recall. "You resigned from office so many times — which time exactly was it?"

Diwu Lun said, "It was after settling the water dispute between the Diqi and Diliu clans, when I resigned from the post of Village Filial and Fraternal Officer. At that time, I said that for Grandfather, I would erect the tallest gate-pillars and merit-tablets under heaven!"

"Yes, yes, that did happen!"

Diwu Ba remembered, and immediately burst into hearty laughter. He laughed because back then his own aspirations had been small, his courage too. He had thought that although he himself had lived a life of mediocrity, he had at least cultivated a Filial and Incorrupt nominee before death, which would count as facing his ancestors with a clear conscience...

"I never imagined that this old man would actually raise an Emperor!"

Diwu Ba laughed again, his body standing very straight at the best viewing angle on the high platform. "Boyu has indeed done it."

"These imperial gate-pillars and merit-tablets you have erected — tall, truly tall!"

Flanked by two great generals — the General of Agile Cavalry Ma Yuan and the General of the Guard Wan Xiu — Diwu Lun, wearing the twelve-pattern imperial robes richly embroidered with five-colored designs, ascended step by step the highest twenty-four stone steps. Atop the platform stood the altar for sacrifice. Presided over by Wang Long, the elaborate yet indispensable rites of kindling the fire to announce to Heaven, offering pure sacrifices to the Six Venerable Ones, and gazing in worship toward the host of spirits were naturally carried out.

Diwu Lun's accession-by-edict ceremony, however, was far more interesting.

Take the donning of the crown, for instance. In Han practice, this should have been placed upon the Emperor by the Grand Marshal and Grand General, but Diwu Lun performed it himself.

And when Han Emperors ascended the throne, they always brought out a few divine artifacts as props for added authority. Besides the Imperial Heirloom Seal, there were also the Jade Regalia, the Marquis of Sui's Pearl, and the sword with which Emperor Gao beheaded the serpent in the great marsh of Pei County. Now the Imperial Seal is in Gongsun Shu's hands, while the Serpent-Slaying Sword was given by Diwu Lun to Liu Ying — considered a return of the object to its rightful owner. The whereabouts of the Marquis of Sui's Pearl and the Jade Regalia are unknown.

Wang Mang, for his part, had also created new divine artifacts: the Twelve Divine Objects, namely the Wugong Cinnabar Stone, the San Neng Patterned Horse, the Iron Covenant, the Stone Tortoise, the Yu Credential, the Wen Jade Tablet, the Dark Seal, the Maoling Stone Inscription, the Dark Dragon Stone, the Divine Well, the Great Divine Stone, and the Bronze Tallies with Silk Charts. However, when the Xin fell, most of these were too cumbersome to carry away and were basically destroyed in the great fire when Liu Bosheng burned Wang Mang's three ancestral temples.

It is said that Wang Mang's skull was actually made into a "divine artifact" by Liu Xuan of the Greenwood Han — only, no one knows where that skull is now.

Diwu Lun, by contrast, struck out on his own path. His divine artifacts were only two objects: the axe and the battle-axe he himself wielded when raising his troops at Hongmen.

The axe is a worn woodcutter's axe, its handle bound with strips of cloth. The blackened body of the axe ends in a gleaming blade. No one can clearly trace this axe's origin; it is only said that Diwu Lun used it in his youth and later always carried it with him, sharing the soldiers' hardships in the army — splitting firewood and the like.

As for the battle-axe, its shape is actually more like a sickle. Diwu Lun originally raised his troops with these two objects to punish Wang Mang, declaring that they were not bestowed by any tyrant or single man, but granted by Heaven's will and the hearts of the people.

In his heart, Diwu Lun thought thus: "Wasn't Emperor Gao of Han's Serpent-Slaying Sword originally just a three-foot broken blade as well? Only later did it accumulate all sorts of mythological meaning and was forcibly lengthened to seven feet."

Divine artifacts do not rely on their original value, but on packaging. The Stone of Scone used at the coronation of English kings — isn't it just a broken piece of rock? But once you add a story, once you mix in the history of inheritance, even an ordinary object can be made to gleam with radiance in your eyes.

Just like now: as Wang Long watched the King of Wei raise the axe in his left hand, he could not help recalling how, when he had obliquely inquired about the weapon's origin, Diwu Lun had jokingly spun a tall tale, saying, "In my youth, I once used this axe to chop down a cherry tree."

A cherry tree? Wang Long, however, took it seriously. He knew that this rare tree species, also called the xie tree, possesses a dazzling, fiery-brilliance-like crimson hue, a striking appearance, and the trait of ripening before all other fruits. The cherry has always been praised as an immortal fruit, generally reserved for the imperial household to enjoy — even his own family was unworthy to eat it. In the Han Dynasty, the cherry orchard at Shanglin Park had dedicated keepers to prevent birds from stealing the fruit.

So how could Diwu Lun, in his humble youth, possibly have chopped down a cherry tree? This must hold a deeper meaning! Wang Long pondered it over and over, and could only feel that perhaps it was a Heaven-sent divine axe, and Diwu Lun was commanded to fell the cherry that symbolized the rites and order of the imperial house.

As for the sickle, Diqi Biao was also boasting with spittle flying to those of other surnames: "Think back to when our Diliu and Diqi clans fought over water. His Majesty mediated for us, reasoning with us through brotherly affection. Then he casually picked up a sickle from the field and, with an absent-minded swing — guess what happened?"

"What?"

Diqi Biao reached out and chopped the side of that person's craning neck with his hand: "Where the sickle blade passed, the thick soil was entirely carved into a straight ditch. The water of the Chengguo Canal was actually split evenly in two — half flowing east, half flowing west. We all cried out that this was a divine miracle, and thereafter none of us were not utterly convinced."

Brother Biao was purely spouting nonsense to fool ghosts, yet quite a few people believed it without doubt.

You see, a story — isn't that how it comes to be? Even a perfectly ordinary, dull object, once it becomes associated with power, people will consciously or unconsciously seek out the extraordinary in it.

But with Diwu Lun, his explanation of them was far more direct and clear.

"The axe signifies punitive expeditions — it stands for the military."

"The sickle signifies harvest — it stands for the people."

And so the classic scene unfolded: the Emperor of Wei, holding the gilded axe and sickle in both hands, raised them high and crossed them, gleaming brilliantly under the bright sun. In later ages of Wei, every ascension to the throne would require imitating this gesture of the founding ancestor.

"Thus may the world and our descendants remember the very foundation upon which Wei established its state!"

Diwu Lun spoke aloud the story he truly wished to tell from his heart, the one he wanted people to remember:

"With the axe in hand, one can cleave through brambles and thorns, opening up territory for Huaxia; with the sickle in grasp, one can above reap the sun and moon, and below reshape the very cosmos!"

When all this was completed, Diwu Lun also promulgated his edict:

"I, the sovereign of the Central Kingdom, declare: Since the mandate of Han had run its course, the Xin attempted to emulate the deeds of Yao and Shun, yet threw the realm's institutions into chaos, so that the Nine Provinces fell into ruin and collapse, and the heroic and talented did not submit. The Red Eyebrows and Greenwood together rose in rebellion; hunger and cold arrived together; fathers and sons became refugees; husbands and wives were torn apart; cottages became mounds of ruins; fields and plots grew rank and wild; plagues and pestilence broke out on a great scale; disasters and portents swarmed like bees. Thus upon the rivers and lakes, along the shores of the seas and Mount Tai, winds surged and waves swelled, men trampled one another in strife, and even common men and humble women all harbored resentment and wrath.

I was originally a commoner of the Five Tombs. Though I was a Filial and Incorrupt nominee, I had no intention of pursuing an official career and repeatedly declined and yielded office. Later, I defended against the barbarians on the frontier, content to be merely a General Who Smashes the Caitiffs. Yet when I witnessed the new policies wreaking havoc upon the realm, I was filled with righteous fury. Thereupon, at Hongmen, emulating the deeds of Tang and Wu against Jie and Zhou, I comforted the people and punished the guilty, bringing to an end the fifteen-year mandate of the Xin and Wang Mang.

Yet the unworthy descendants of the various Han houses restored their chaotic state and stole the fruits of my destruction of Wang Mang. Within the seas, local magnates and heroes contended in strife; the people of the four borders had their livers and brains smeared upon the ground. The number of the dead was no less than the greater half; the poison of calamity and disaster pierced to the very marrow of their bones. I therefore seized the season when the deer was chased, drew heroic and worthy men to my side, led the masses of Guanzhong, commanded scattered and disordered troops, smeared our lips with blood at the Wei River, beheaded Liu Bosheng, drove straight through the Zhou Plain, and repelled the cavalry of Longyou. I broke the million-strong battle line of the Bronze Horses, executed the false son Yu, swept across Hebei, expelled calamity and chaos, and exterminated the wayless. Relying on the martial might displayed by all the generals and officers, the four provinces of Si, Bing, You, and Ji were pacified, and the people were settled in their fields and villages.

Now the civil and military great ministers, the hundred offices, and the multitudes of commoners have joined in words urging me to advance, honoring me as Emperor to preside over the black-haired people. Yielding with effort to the sentiments of the masses, on the first day of the fifth month of the third year of Wei, I announced and sacrificed to Heaven and Earth in the wilds of Hongmen and ascended the imperial throne. I establish the dynastic title of all under Heaven as Great Wei, and inaugurate the reign era 'Wude'!"

This edict is quite interesting. First, unlike all the Han Emperors, who uniformly denounced Wang Mang as a usurping traitor, Diwu Lun acknowledged the Xin Dynasty's legitimate status!

After all, Diwu Lun's early appointments as Filial and Incorrupt and as an official were all promotions by Wang Mang — this is an inescapable part of his history. If he wholly repudiated the Xin Dynasty, the various Han restorations would gain legitimacy. Diwu Lun could only choose the lesser of two evils. After all, when Tang banished Jie and King Wu executed Zhou, neither denied the legitimate status of the Xia and Yin dynasties.

Second, Diwu Lun decided not to use the imperial 'Zhen,' but still, like Wang Mang, to use 'Yu'!

As former high ministers of the Xin Dynasty, the Privy Treasurer Song Hong glanced at the Grand Preceptor Zhang Zhan, and both could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. Although the Xin had botched things, it had after all invested the ideals of many people of ambition and was an unprecedented experiment. Deep in their hearts, they did not wish to see the new institutions wholly repudiated.

The Emperor's attitude toward the various Han claimants is clear: he must annihilate them utterly before he is satisfied. But toward the Xin Dynasty, that he is actually able to adopt its merits and discard its flaws is truly no easy matter.

At this point, Diwu Lun's accession ceremony was largely concluded. The assembled ministers offered congratulations to the new Emperor, prostrating themselves and shouting "Long live!"

As the founder of Wei, the ministers could more or less appreciate Diwu Lun's painstaking intentions.

But in the more distant areas, on the low, temporarily constructed wooden viewing platforms flanking the high platform, the elders of the commanderies and kingdoms who had been summoned from a thousand li away to witness the ceremony, after finding these lengthy rites a novelty at first, were now left with nothing but boredom.

Fortunately, the grand military review segment that followed immediately perked up their spirits!

The elders had long since noticed that while Diwu Lun conducted his ceremony, over ten thousand men had assembled on the broad wilderness of Hongmen. These men were the King of Wei's personal guard brigade, who had withstood the charges of the Longyou shock cavalry at the Battle of the Zhou Plain and stood immovable against Liu Ziyu's desperate assaults at the decisive Battle of Xiaquyang in Hebei.

They formed square formations of two thousand five hundred men per brigade, divided into front, rear, left, right, and center, arrayed sitting north and facing south. The commanders all raised banners and beat drums, bearing their manuals and grasping their drumsticks. Those infantrymen, wearing armor and round caps, had their hair combed neatly and pressed flat against the backs of their heads. The weapons they held were kissed from time to time by the afternoon sunlight, flashing out streaks of intimidating cold gleam.

Even elders completely ignorant of battle formations could clearly distinguish them, because they wore different uniform colors and bore different banners.

The front army symbolized the Water Virtue of the North: all in dark robes, with dark banners, black armor, and black-feathered arrows; the horse units were all black-maned steeds, looking from afar like ink.

The rear army signified the Fire Virtue of the South: all in crimson robes, with red banners, vermilion armor, and red-feathered arrows; the horse units were all bay horses, looking from afar like flames.

The right army corresponded to the western Metal virtue, all in white robes, white banners, plain armor, white-feathered arrows, riding white horses — from afar they looked like a field of white reeds.

The left army signified the eastern Wood virtue, colored green, wrapped in green headscarves, their horse squadron riding green-blazed steeds.

The central army embodied the central Earth virtue, colored yellow, their horse squadron riding yellow dappled mounts, and on their heads was the old marker of the Wei army: yellow scarves!

But from this day forward, they would be the five-colored banners, complete with all five virtues.

Anyone with a bit of learning would see at once that this was a shameless imitation of King Fuchai of Wu's display at the Huangchi Covenant and Modu's encirclement at Baideng — nothing remarkable — but the local elders did not know that; they only saw the vivid, distinct colors.

When His Majesty the Emperor raised the axe and sickle, and the General lifted the drumstick, as the bells and drums sounded, the music officers also vigorously shook their clapper-bells. In that moment, all five brigades, bold and timid alike, answered as one, and the three armies roared in unison to rouse the ranks — the sound shook heaven and earth!

Like waves crashing against the reef upon the shore, the cheers rose again and again through the three armies, surging and swelling, vast and mighty, carrying the force to shatter dead wood and pull up rotten stumps.

"Long live the Martial Virtue Emperor!"

This was indeed merely a martial display. There were no troops circling the field, nor did Diwu Lun wave in acknowledgment. A military review was out of the question — with only a few short days of drill, even the elite Guard Division could not achieve uniform precision. The moment they began to march, chaos would ensue. Better to stick with what they did best: standing at attention, and let the crowd enjoy the spectacle. Once you have tried it yourself, you understand: those massive-scale events of later ages rely on the organizational power of a modern state. In ancient times, it was simply impossible, no matter how hard you tried.

Yet the people of Chang'an who had come to observe the ceremony, and the elders from the various commanderies and kingdoms, were already satisfied. They would remember only the five-colored banners fluttering everywhere today, and the formations arrayed in five colors — how martial and mighty it all was.

They too could not help but join in the shouting, sharing in the reflected glory. When they returned to their hometowns, it would be a tale to last a lifetime!

"This old man has lived through many an emperor, but which emperor ever invited me to his accession ceremony? One good turn deserves another — from this day on, this old man is a loyal subject of the Martial Virtue Emperor!"

Of course, there were also those who had fallen ill or died from exhaustion on the long journey...

But the purpose for which Diwu Lun had spent so much wealth and effort, summoning several hundred observers from the various commanderies and kingdoms, had been achieved.

"Call out with the wind at your back — the sound itself grows no swifter, yet it carries far and is heard clearly."

Diwu Lun said: "The common people across the four provinces and their commanderies pay no heed to edicts they cannot even read, nor to grand principles. They do not even care which emperor has taken the throne — whether his surname is Liu, Wang, or Wu. Taxes will be collected all the same; it is merely the pot calling the kettle black."

If you want illiterate commoners to accept this new emperor, printing however many copies of an edict is useless — it simply does not connect with their lives.

"But the common people are willing to listen to a respected elder from their own home region who has just been to the capital and witnessed a grand spectacle. Once he returns home, it becomes a story he tells over and over. At every village gathering, he will recount to them, and to their sons and grandsons, the tale of the Martial Virtue Emperor's five-colored banners and five-colored troops."

The use of symbols and imagery makes your story far more memorable. Just as Diwu Lun intended, in the many years that followed, the events of this day were indeed spread by the mouths of the elders throughout the provinces and commanderies under his rule. But when words pass through several tellings, errors easily creep in. Sometimes, by the time the story reached the deep mountains, it had changed its shape entirely.

Deep in the Taihang Mountains of Shangdang in Bing Province, an old farmer listening to others' idle talk was so startled that his hoe toppled over:

"What? What did you say? Five emperors — red, white, yellow, green, and black — all enthroned at once?"

The Five Virtues Emperor being misunderstood by a mountain farmer as five emperors ruling together — that, of course, is a story for later.

As for the various events of the accession at Hongmen, within a few short days the news first reached the ears of Wang Yan, the Han Empress Dowager and Xin dynasty Princess, at Wannian Palace north of the Wei River.

The one sent to inform her of the matter was Yin Lihua. She had expected the Empress Dowager Xiaoping to respond with a sigh, or a curse — even a laugh would have been something.

But what Wang Yan uttered was a single, utterly ambiguous...

"Oh."

PS: Only one chapter today. I've been running to the hospital these past few days, and there are family matters at home too — barely keeping up with updates. I won't have time to make up the missed chapter until the 24th.

My illness is somewhat tied to my emotions. Yesterday I was shocked to hear that a manga artist I greatly admired had passed away, and I spent another ten minutes crying in the bathroom. Grieving for one of my own kind, and then it dawned on me — health and peace of mind matter most. Might as well just lie flat and aim to finish the story before National Day. Updates will generally still be two chapters, but without a fixed schedule (not that I ever managed to stick to one before). Sorry for any inconvenience.