Chapter 45: Gentlemen!

The law officer was named Guo Hong, a man of Yangzhai in Yingchuan, whose family had passed down the Xiao Du Code. He had only just been selected to serve as a clerk in Chang'an, and hearing this he was taken aback. "The chief culprit? Is it not Ma Yuan? And to convict so rashly — I fear it would not accord with the statutes and ordinances..."

Kong Ren said impatiently, "What you studied is the Xiao Du Code compiled by Du Yannian, is it not? In my view, it falls far short of the insight of his father Du Zhou's Da Du Code."

"Du Zhou had a saying: from whence do the three-foot statutes and ordinances come? They come from the Emperor! In former times the edicts of the Han Emperor became law; today the pronouncements of the Xin Emperor likewise become ordinances. We should take the reigning sovereign as the standard — there is no need to follow any ancient law."

Ever since the establishment of the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, from the presiding Marquis of Tongmu, Chen Chong, down to the Right Master of Fates, Kong Ren, the guiding principle for handling cases had been Wang Mang's likes and dislikes. If no imperial command was involved, they judged on their own. The law was merely a rubber band — now tight, now loose, toyed with at will. Did anyone truly take it seriously?

Kong Ren declared without shame, "The same holds today. If merely following statutes and ordinances in every matter sufficed, what need would there be for us officials? In deciding cases, one must be somewhat flexible."

In any case, the urgent thing was to wrap up this case quickly. Kong Ren knew that the Emperor's interest lay in instituting rites and composing music; his keenest thought was therefore directed toward astronomy and geography, and in expounding and reconciling the doctrines of the Six Classics. The high ministers entered the palace at dawn and only emerged at dusk; their deliberations dragged on for years without resolution. By contrast, the routine and tedious business of reviewing lawsuits and redressing grievances received little attention.

This led to a backlog of cases, all pushed onto the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties. If Kong Ren had to meticulously try every case according to the letter of the law, he would be worked to death! Far better to sweep his brush across the page and dispose of them in batches.

Guo Hong remained somewhat cautious. "Right Master of Fates, Diwu Lun is after all a three-hundred-dan Palace Gentleman and a Filial and Incorrupt nominee of a commandery. To rashly convict without solid evidence — would that not be improper?"

"What is improper about it?"

Kong Ren knew full well that this whole affair originated from Chen Chong, the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, wanting to teach Yuan She a lesson. That was why he had backed the County Magistrate, emboldening him to make an enemy of Yuan She, to keep Yuan Juxian from growing too arrogant and overbearing.

But out of deference to Lou Hu of Chang'an and Chen Zun of Duling — the two "Confucian gallants" who shielded Yuan She, held official ranks and titles, and had close ties to the imperial house — the Office of the Master of Fates could not crush Yuan She with a single blow either. Having a trusted retainer die in place of his son Yuan Chu was an outcome that allowed both sides to save face.

What no one had foreseen was that Ma Yuan would release Wan Xiu at Xiliu Post and then flee together with him.

Kong Ren, furious, set out to deal with that wretch and implicate his family. But upon investigation he discovered that this minor Investigator had two elder brothers, both two-thousand-dan officials holding real power. The Ma clan of Maoling had deep influence throughout the Guanzhong region; their marriage ties were a tangled web, and they even had kinship connections to the imperial house.

Could not afford to provoke them, could not afford to provoke them.

Compared to those colossal powers, Diwu Lun, the Filial and Incorrupt and Palace Gentleman, was but a tiny ant.

Kong Ren dismissed Diwu Lun's status with contempt. "I have reviewed the files. Diwu Lun hails from a humble village household of local prominence; his ancestors possess no pedigree whatsoever. His patron, Zhang Zhan, the Grand Governor of Liewei, has never enjoyed the Son of Heaven's esteem. And now that Zhang Zixiao has been reprimanded because a County Magistrate under him took bribes and engaged in corruption, his voice at court is even fainter."

And in the month or so since Diwu Lun had entered court service, he seemed not to have found any particular patron either, associating closely only with a few Palace Gentlemen from the same commandery. It was said he had also become a disciple of Yang Xiong.

The thought of Yang Xiong struck Kong Ren as ridiculous. "Those literati are always boasting about Yang Xiong, calling him the 'Confucius West of the Pass.' In my view, he is nothing but a useless old man from Shu."

It was Kong Ren himself who, back then, had led men to frighten that old fool into leaping from the Tianlu Pavilion, breaking his leg.

For several years now, Yang Xiong had repeatedly declined the Son of Heaven's orders to compose odes singing his praises and extolling his virtues, and had long since fallen from favor, reduced to utter destitution. Word had it that he had overestimated himself and broken off relations with the State Preceptor, losing his last highly placed and powerful friend entirely.

Like master, like disciple. In Kong Ren's eyes, compared to Yuan She and the Ma clan of Maoling, who were implicated in this case, Diwu Lun was the easiest to manipulate. Since he had gotten himself entangled, what did it matter whether he was innocent or not? He would do!

Yawning, Kong Ren instructed Guo Hong and the others, "Conclude the case quickly. Designate him the chief culprit. Say that everything was plotted by Diwu Lun, and that Ma Yuan was merely an accessory — his crime reduced by one degree. That will give us an account to render to the Ma clan of Maoling."

"Come to think of it, Diwu Lun is rather pitiable. No need to sentence him too harshly — shaving his head and banishing him will suffice. The bitter cold of the Western Sea Commandery is just short of men to garrison it!"

After being shoved into the prison pen, Diwu Lun could only find it absurd. The day before yesterday he had been delivering wine and meat to Wan Xiu; today it was his turn to be trapped behind bars.

Truly, calamity had fallen from the sky. Should he have gritted his teeth back then and fled into exile with Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu, turning outlaw, setting up a stronghold in the marshes, and taking the path of open rebellion?

Diwu Lun shook his head to himself. "I didn't flee, and still I am treated like this. If I had fled and confirmed the charges, the Diwu clan's situation would be even worse. These officials would likely flay us and tear out our sinews. Months of accumulation would be destroyed in a single day, and I might never see Grandfather again."

When Kong Ren had tried the case earlier, Diwu Lun had defended himself using the Spring and Autumn Annals to adjudicate, leaving no opening. And the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties had found no evidence whatsoever to substantiate his being an accessory. With the addition of Ma Yuan's letter on silk, his situation had seemed secure.

Yet Diwu Lun did not dare be the least bit optimistic.

It would be fine if they strictly followed the Spring and Autumn Annals method of adjudication, but the Xin under Wang Mang had decayed to a certain point and had thoroughly become rule by men; the statutes and ordinances were practically dead letters. For the same crime, the judgment for people of different status was utterly different.

For example, if a minor common gallant like Wan Xiu committed robbery and plunder, he would almost certainly be executed in the marketplace. If Ma Yuan broke the law, his clan's power and his elder brothers' protection would likely see the matter raised high and set down gently — he might do two years of corvée labor in Chang'an as a token gesture.

But someone like Diwu Lun, stuck in the middle, would most likely be banished to the Western Sea Commandery — that is, to hard labor by the later Qinghai Lake.

To escape conviction, what mattered was not mastery of the law or conclusive evidence, but whether one had connections and whether one's backing was firm.

This was the "risk" Diwu Lun had anticipated beforehand. Before the summons from the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties arrived, he had hurried home and arranged everything.

"Whether reputation and personal debts prove useful or not will be seen in this trial! I don't ask for a complete overturning of the case; I only hope to avoid distant exile. Even if I lose the post of Palace Gentleman, if I can remain in Guanzhong and continue building up the clan, that will be enough!"

Without food or drink, hungry and thirsty, Diwu Lun clutched the wheat stalks in the freezing prison pen, his teeth chattering as he shivered. Taking the blame for Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu for no reason counted as the greatest setback since his transmigration.

He could not help cursing Ma Yuan inwardly. "The two of you got to leave, free and easy, while I suffer this misery here. The one who values loyalty the most is clearly me! I'm noting this debt down."

"But in the final analysis, who is to blame but me, for being guilty?"

Diwu Lun mocked himself, searing the lesson into his memory. "In this world, being born of a humble family is a fault; being of low station and slight words — that is a crime! Having weak power and influence is a crime of an even higher degree!"

"Sunqing, what can this old man do to help?" Yang Xiong, who had come as usual to scrounge food and drink, was horrified by the shocking news that Diwu Lun had been thrown into prison in chains.

Jing Dan said to him, "Elder Ziyun, Boyu already foresaw this. Wang Wenshan has gone to plead with the Marquis of Qiongcheng to intervene. I am going now to find Geng Chun of Julu, who is also a Palace Gentleman. Boyu's friendship with him and many other Palace Gentlemen has grown quite good lately. If we band together and go to the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties to appeal to the Marquis of Tongmu for justice, and make enough of a clamor, we may force the Right Master of Fates, Kong Ren, to release him."

He also had to make a trip back to Liewei Commandery. Although the likelihood of Zhang Zhan stepping forward was very low, Jing Dan still had to try. He treasured his friendship with Diwu Lun.

Jing Dan did not want Yang Xiong to worry too much. "As for you, Elder Ziyun, wait quietly at home for good news. Tomorrow Boyu will be able to return."

And so Yang Xiong watched as everyone dispersed in separate directions, leaving him alone, silently leaning on his cane, sighing in the courtyard.

"Yang Ziyun, you are truly useless beyond measure."

Yang Xiong was very fond of this new disciple, Diwu Lun. He treated him with courtesy, and the wine and meat in his home were his to eat as he pleased.

Gradually, what he taught Diwu Lun had extended beyond regional dialects to include the Five Classics — which Yang Xiong knew thoroughly in their canonical texts and commentaries, only declining to study the glosses and philosophical interpretations. Diwu Lun's attitude toward learning closely resembled his own: he read only the classics and commentaries, seeking no pedantic exegesis, yet often he could draw inferences and occasionally utter startling insights that set even Yang Xiong pondering.

With good meat and fine vegetables to eat, his own health had improved somewhat compared to before; he should live to see the next year. Perhaps, slowly, he could persuade Diwu Lun to study the Supreme Mystery and the Model Sayings as well — this was Yang Xiong's wish.

Who would have thought that Diwu Lun would be imprisoned without cause, summoned to the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, and still not released to this day.

Eight years ago, Yang Xiong had personally experienced the sinister cold and venomous cruelty of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties. The taste of lying in a prison pen clutching a broken leg, wailing in agony, was not pleasant. From that time on, Yang Xiong had begun to live in seclusion in the marketplace, keeping his distance from the powerful, lest he be implicated again.

This time was the same. By all reason, he should not get involved...

Yet Yang Xiong could not help but be anxious. Diwu Lun's eloquence was outstanding, his mind sharp and quick. If the Master of Fates was willing to be reasonable, there would be no great cause for worry. What he feared was that, just as they had done back then with the charge of "conspiracy" against Yang Xiong, they would give Diwu Lun no chance to defend himself and hastily conclude the case.

Although Wang Long and Jing Dan, who were close to Diwu Lun, were both actively running about, seeking connections to clear him of the charges, even if they persuaded the Marquis of Qiongcheng and Zhang Zhan, and even with the Palace Gentlemen Jing Dan was rallying stepping forward — would that be enough to make the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties let Diwu Lun go?

That Yang Xiong had narrowly escaped disaster back then was thanks to the Son of Heaven, Wang Mang, knowing him well enough to be certain he would never participate in conspiracy. He had asked one extra question, and only that had forced the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties to properly investigate the case.

After pondering, he felt he still could not stand aloof. He therefore summoned his senior disciple, Hou Ba. "Gongfu, take a letter in my hand and go to the home of Huan Junshan, and then pay a visit to the Marquis of Xiuyuan's residence. Ask Huan Tan and Liang Rang to also step forward and help Boyu."

Yang Xiong had many friends, but most were superficial acquaintances. Seeing him poor, lowly, and out of favor, they had one after another cut off contact. Only Liang Rang, the Marquis of Xiuyuan, still treated him with the courtesy due a teacher. As for Huan Tan, he was a steadfast friend who did not waver despite Yang Xiong's poverty and low station, and the one who understood Yang Xiong best.

But although these two held noble titles and ranks of a thousand dan, in Chang'an they both counted as "men of low station and slight words."

Only a word from a "great personage" could set his mind at ease.

Whom could he ask?

Old Yang Xiong opened his eyes, his resolve set. He called for Diwu Fu, who was waiting in the courtyard, and went back home with him. One by one, he took out those precious scrolls of the *Fangyan*, carefully wiped the dust from them with his sleeve, and placed them in a traveling bag.

A few years ago, State Preceptor Liu Xin had asked Yang Xiong for this book, but Yang Xiong had flatly refused. Decades of friendship ended in mutual disgust, and the two had cut off all contact ever since.

To Diwu Lun, whom he admired, Yang Xiong wished he could pour out everything he knew, but to that "old friend" who was now a stranger, Yang Xiong would not give a single word.

Yet today, he had no choice but to bow his head.

So that his own tragedy would not repeat itself in Diwu Lun.

Yang Xiong had Diwu Fu help him onto the carriage. His trembling finger pointed ahead. "To the State Preceptor's residence!"

Diba Jiao had taken a rare day off to come back. The moment he reached the entrance of Xuanming Ward, he sensed something was wrong.

Everyone was pointing and whispering at him, and the ward gatekeeper's eyes were full of sympathy. What on earth had happened?

Once inside the ward, he ran into Diwu Fu and Yang Xiong driving out. The white-haired old man clutched his scrolls, his face etched with misery, while Diwu Fu was frantic with worry, waving at Diba Jiao to get out of the way and stop blocking the road.

But Diba Jiao spread his arms and stopped the carriage. Only after asking did he learn the reason, and he was horrified.

"Boyu has been arrested and taken to the Master of Fates' residence?"

"I... what can I do?"

Diwu Fu, thoroughly annoyed, got down, shoved Diba Jiao to the roadside, and cursed, "You're just an Imperial Academy student who knows nothing but books. What could you possibly do? Just don't get in our way."

Diba Jiao was indeed not part of Diwu Lun's rescue plan, but watching Yang Xiong and the carriage disappear into the distance, he rose from the ground, his expression resolute!

"Who says an Imperial Academy student can't accomplish anything?"

Diba Jiao turned and headed back the way he came. The ox cart that had brought him was long gone, and for a moment he couldn't flag down a ride to the southern district. Growing desperate, he rolled up his wide sleeves and broke into a jog along Chang'an's main avenue.

The sight of a student in a Confucian cap, with his loose robes and wide sleeves, running along drew many astonished stares. Diba Jiao's face went red. He usually spent his days in his dormitory, absorbed in the Five Classics, and rarely exerted himself. After running barely half a li, he was panting for breath, drenched in sweat despite the bitter cold.

The soles of his feet ached. He had walked too hastily and worn through the bottom of his shoes, but Diba Jiao gritted his teeth and forced himself not to stop. His pace only grew slower and slower, though — the Imperial Academy was over ten li away, and he probably wouldn't make it before dark.

Fortunately, just as he turned onto Guanqian Street, Diba Jiao finally managed to flag down an ox cart hauling coal briquettes — his family, it turned out, had expanded the business and was now delivering goods to customers inside the city.

Diba Jiao didn't stand on ceremony. He announced who he was, clambered onto the coal cart, and went jolting and bumping on his way.

The coal briquettes gave off a choking stench, and his plain white Confucian robe seemed stained as if with ink. Diba Jiao, who normally cared deeply about his appearance, paid it no mind. His thoughts were filled only with the face, voice, and smile of Diwu Lun.

The humility of yielding his place at the academy to him. The magnanimity of mediating peace between the Diwu and Diba families. And the heroic feat of single-handedly uniting the fractured branches of Linqu Township — split for two hundred years, nearly strangers to one another — back into a single clan!

In Diba Jiao's eyes, these were all extraordinary accomplishments that he could only look up to. As the saying goes, when you see a worthy man, strive to equal him. He had always studied in silence, but at this moment, with Diwu Lun's life hanging in the balance, if he did not step forward and do something, he would probably despise himself for the rest of his days.

"Though I cannot match Boyu's great virtue, I can still die for righteousness!"

The road was a constant stream of carriages and horses, and sometimes they blocked the intersections, forcing him to wait. It drove him frantic with impatience.

After finally passing through Fugu Gate and traveling another seven li, Diba Jiao leaped off the coal cart and rushed into the Imperial Academy. Ignoring the mockery of others at his bedraggled, filthy state, he went straight into his dormitory, drained a ladle of water, and then rummaged through his chest until he found that yellow garment.

The Xin Dynasty was obsessed with the cycle of the Five Phases, and the Imperial Academy students were even more so. They made a point of wearing "five-colored robes" — "green in spring, vermilion in summer, yellow in late summer, white in autumn, black in winter." Because the Xin Dynasty claimed the virtue of Earth and exalted yellow, yellow had surpassed vermilion and black to become the most honored color, beloved by both court and commoners.

Diba Jiao paid no mind to the garment's exquisite craftsmanship or the precious Shu brocade it was made from. Without the slightest hesitation, he grabbed a paring knife and slashed open this fine robe, which his father had spent a considerable sum to procure for him.

Once outside, he snatched a long bamboo pole that the students used to air their laundry, tied the garment to it, and a crude banner was made.

What could a mere Imperial Academy student — a bookworm who knew only the classics of the sages — do in the face of a wrongful conviction?

Looking up at the banner, Diba Jiao recalled something that had happened twenty years ago.

In the first year of the Yuanshou era under Emperor Ai of Han (2 BC), it was Bao Xuan — the very man who had cried out to the realm about the "seven deaths and seven destructions" of the common people — who, then serving as Colonel-Director of Retainers, sent men to stop the Chancellor's clerks from illegally using the imperial expressway and confiscated their carriages and horses.

That age, just like the present, had no justice or reason to speak of; it all came down to who had more power. This act was seen as an affront to the Chancellor. The Palace Assistant Inspector went to the Colonel-Director of Retainers' office to demand that Bao Xuan hand over his subordinate officers.

But Bao Xuan refused, shutting the gates and barring the envoy from entering. The court then arrested Bao Xuan on charges of "forsaking the rites of a subject, gross irreverence, and unprincipled conduct." Because he always spoke blunt truths and had offended many, no one came to his aid, and he was sentenced to death. The case shook the capital.

Twenty years ago, it was right here that an Erudite's disciple named Wang Xian, upon hearing of this, raised a banner at the Imperial Academy and rallied the crowd with a single cry!

In the end, over a thousand students gathered beneath Wang Xian's banner. The next day, Wang Xian led the students to block the Chancellor's path to court, presenting a petition and pleading their case. They then prostrated themselves at the palace gates and submitted a memorial. Under pressure, Emperor Ai ordered Bao Xuan's sentence commuted by one degree from death.

That was the first successful Imperial Academy movement, and it gave Diba Jiao his inspiration. Clutching his banner, he walked on and on until he reached the area outside the student dormitories, where the disciples of the Masters of Documents took their leisure.

The weather was fine today. Zhuang Guang, Zhuang Ziling, was still sound asleep, pondering the ultimate questions of life. Liu Wenshu of Nanyang was playing a game of liubo with his fellow townsman, the Attendant Lecturer Zhu You. The young prodigy Deng Yu was leafing through his scrolls, while Qiang Hua from Yingchuan was still on the ground, deducing prophetic charts and symbols with utter concentration.

Many more lived in the nearby quarters — several thousand in all. The Imperial Academy had expanded aggressively under the current dynasty, its student body now many times larger than in Emperor Ai's day.

Diba Jiao, carrying his banner, planted himself before them and suddenly began to wave it. This absurd and bizarre sight drew everyone's attention.

Deng Yu, with a boy's love of excitement, was the first to run over. Zhu You saw it too, frowned, and whispered a few words to Liu Wenshu, prompting Liu Xiu to turn and look. Seeing it was Diba Jiao, Liu Xiu's already large mouth fell open even wider, his face a picture of utter disbelief.

More and more people gathered around, curious to see what the usually tongue-tied Diba Jiao was up to with this display.

Diba Jiao's face flushed crimson. He was not good with words, but today he threw caution to the wind, desperately steeling his nerves. In a hoarse voice, he shouted:

"Gentlemen, please stop a moment and hear me out!"

PS: Begging for recommendation votes.