Chapter 470: Zhou Lü

Two hundred years ago, Lintao (present-day Min County, Gansu) was the frontier of the Central Plains. The Qin Great Wall ended here then, and it still does now.

As one might imagine, Lintao's geography is quite remote. Even within the small commandery of Longxi, it lies half a month's journey from Didao to the north and Shanggui to the east, with mountains and rivers barring the way and making travel difficult. Yet it was precisely this remoteness that made Lintao the last refuge for the Longyou forces. Wei Ao, having narrowly escaped death, lingered here with the remnants of his shattered army.

Wei Ao cut a rather dejected figure. The dignified Grand General was dignified no longer — his lapels were stained with wine spills, and whenever something troubled or pained him, he would instinctively reach for drink.

But in Lintao, even wine was gone. Food itself was scarce; even Wei Ao had only dry, parched grain to eat. So he could only wait soberly in this last city of Longyou for his final hour to descend.

With news arriving from the Qishan battlefield of the Long-Shu allied army's defeat, Lintao could no longer be held.

"Qishan is the lock and key to Long and Shu. Now that Yang Guang has been defeated and withdrawn west, and the Shu army is blocked by frost and snow, unable to send reinforcements north, I expect the fall of Qishan Fortress is only a matter of time."

After persuading Gongsun Shu to ally with the Western Qiang, Fang Wang had set out north from Wudu and passed through Lintao. He said to Wei Ao, "By next spring when the snow melts at the latest, the Wei army at Qishan will surely advance west from Qishan and link up with Wu Han. By then, even the road of retreat into Yizhou will be cut off."

Fang Wang's implication was that he hoped Wei Ao would make plans early. Rather than be surrounded by the Wei army, it would be better to withdraw south to Wudu in the winter. Lintao was a bulwark against the Western Qiang, but it was quite vulnerable to an attack coming from within Longxi itself.

Wei Ao said, "So by your counsel, I am to leave Longyou and live under another's roof?"

Fang Wang said, "On the General's behalf, I petitioned the Gongsun Emperor to lend us Wudu Commandery, so that the soldiers and scholars of Longyou would have a place to shelter and one day counterattack Longshang."

"The Gongsun Emperor agreed, but he hopes to meet the General at Nanzheng." There was another sentence left unspoken: Gongsun Shu wished to complete the rites of lord and vassal with Wei Ao. As for whether Wei Ao would afterward be detained in Chengdu, that would depend on his conduct.

"To be a watchdog guarding the gate for Gongsun Shu?" Wei Ao merely gave a bitter, mirthless laugh. Once, he had actually had the chance to make peace with Diwu Lun and become a wealthy and honored marquis. They had shared ties back then, and given Diwu Lun's temperament, he would not have stooped to mistreat or torment him. But in the end, a single stray thought — that faint greed for being a feudal lord — had worked its mischief, and he had walked step by step to this day.

Wei Ao had already paid too great a price. There was no turning back. So be it — at least in the Cheng family's realm, he would still be the "King of Shuoning."

But as for Fang Wang, Wei Ao also knew that this gentleman was no longer a strategist of Longyou.

Nor was he a loyal minister of Gongsun Shu. He had fallen into a kind of obsession, that unwillingness to admit defeat. Wei Ao had once possessed it too — it could make a man self-righteous, even drive him to madness!

"Regarding the matter of allying with the Xianlian Qiang to wreak havoc in Long, I hope you will reconsider, sir." Wei Ao's tone was conciliatory. Though he too had once borrowed the Qiang people's strength, today was different. Gongsun Shu and Fang Wang had to understand what they were about to unleash, and how much damage it would cause Longyou. Wei Ao did not wish for the Wei clan to follow in the footsteps of the Li of Longxi, cursed and reviled for a hundred years.

"In war, the way is deception."

Fang Wang, however, clung stubbornly to his delusion. Wei Ao had lost in Longyou, but he, Fang Wang, had not yet lost! He merely changed the subject: "The Gongsun Emperor requests that when the General goes south, he bring the child Ying along."

That child was pitiable too. He had been used as a prop for Wang Mang's abdication ceremony back then, and over a decade later, he was still being exploited by various factions. In matters of symbolic legitimacy, Gongsun Shu was practically a little Wang Mang — he probably wanted to hold some ceremony about the Han mandate passing to another.

"Liu Zijun will not agree." Wei Ao shook his head. Though the old Liu Xin's hair had gone white and he had nearly died several times in recent years, he had pulled through each time. He was now the last remaining "loyal minister of the Great Han," protecting the child Ying like an old hen shielding her chick.

"The Gongsun Emperor hopes that Liu Zijun will also come south."

Fang Wang said, "Gongsun has already built an academy in Chengdu. The moment Liu Zijun arrives, he will be honored as the Cheng family's State Preceptor!"

The Xin Dynasty's old State Preceptor, Liu Xin — his scholarship, when used to guide state policy, had thrown the realm into chaos.

But purely as a teacher, Liu Xin was rather well qualified.

Over the past three years, he had poured all his energy into "repaying a debt."

The debt of being a descendant of the Liu clan who had betrayed his ancestral bloodline. Its concrete expression was taking part in rebuilding the Great Han, supporting the Yuanshi succession, and then staying by the child Ying's side, painstakingly teaching him — a half-witted, broken person — until he could haltingly speak.

Watching this half-grown lad "babbling and learning to talk," gradually able to communicate with him in stumbling phrases, Liu Xin felt a profound comfort in his old age. His next step had even been to teach the child Ying to read.

But war disrupted Liu Xin's plans. He and the child Ying began a ceaseless, wandering exile: from Tianshui to Longxi, then moved again to this remote Lintao. He had visited the ruins of the Qin Great Wall, wrapped in an old goatskin coat, gazing out at the desolate lands beyond the frontier, the cold wind making his white beard tremble. Looking back across antiquity and the present, Liu Xin's literati sentiment surged, and he was filled with emotion. The child Ying, however — this "Son of Heaven of the Great Han" — was solely occupied with picking up stones to throw at the marmots poking their heads out.

"Your Majesty, let us go back."

Liu Xin said helplessly. After arriving in Lintao, despite the limited conditions, his instruction of the child Ying had grown even more urgent, as if he foresaw that the silence of this desolate place could not last much longer.

Sure enough, on that morning after the heavy snow, Wei Ao came to the "temporary palace" with red-rimmed eyes to pay his respects to Liu Xin and the child Ying.

When Wei Ao had entered officialdom, he had largely relied on Liu Xin's promotion. Toward this elder who had been both teacher and superior, Wei Ao felt sincere gratitude from the bottom of his heart.

"Lord Liu, I am incapable. All of Longyou is lost, even Qishan will soon fall, and only the isolated city of Lintao remains, too hard-pressed to hold."

Wei Ao raised his head and said, "Diwu Lun has already destroyed Liu Ziyu and slaughtered every Liu in Hebei. He hates the House of Han so much he wishes to exterminate it. I would gladly shatter my bones and grind my body to dust for the Great Han's altars, but I only fear harm coming to Your Majesty and Lord Liu."

"Fortunately, Gongsun Ziyang is willing to use the land of Yizhou to invite the Son of Heaven as a guest..."

Wei Ao spoke with extreme care, fearful of rousing Liu Xin's fury. But what he had not expected was that Liu Xin remained quite calm from beginning to end. Yet the look he gave Wei Ao was cold — he did not believe his words. Who did not know that Wei Ao intended to use the child Ying as a gift, to trade Gongsun Shu for a feudal king's position?

In the final analysis, the Great Han, the interests of Longyou — none of it outweighed his own personal gains and losses.

"These three years have been hard on you, Jimeng." Liu Xin said, "Being a loyal minister of the Han is indeed exhausting."

Liu Xin recalled his own father: "My father, Liu Zhonglei (Liu Xiang), spent his entire life contending — first against the eunuchs and Kuang Heng in Emperor Yuan's court, then against the Wang clan's five marquis relatives in Emperor Cheng's court. But that single spring of clear water could not, in the end, resist the turbid current. He was repeatedly dismissed from office, thrown into prison, stripped of his post. In the end, he could only pour all his fervent passion into scholarship, watching the Great Han sink day by day, powerless to do anything, often covering his face and weeping."

Liu Xin had witnessed all this, and later made a choice utterly different from his father's. He felt he was abandoning the petty path of a single family and a single surname, to pursue with his like-minded comrade Wang Mang the great Way of the Three Dynasties!

Yet fifteen years of disappointment and despair had finally driven Liu Xin to rebel against Wang Mang. He no longer hoped for any Three Dynasties — he only wished to spend his remaining years making some amends, so that after death he could face his late father without shame.

"But now, it is well."

Liu Xin laid everything bare: "Jimeng need no longer be a Han minister. A fine bird chooses its tree to perch — how excellent."

Though there was a trace of sarcasm, Liu Xin did not bitterly denounce Wei Ao. He, a man surnamed Liu, had himself betrayed the Great Han — why demand so much of a man of a different surname? That Wei Ao had been willing to humble himself beneath the child Ying for three years, giving Liu Xin his final peace, was already no small feat.

He merely turned his gaze toward the inner room where the child Ying slept soundly — the only person in the world Liu Xin still cared about. "Take good care of His Majesty. Gongsun Shu cares for his reputation; he should be able to let His Majesty live peacefully in Chengdu, no?"

Wherever it was, it would be better than this barren western wilderness torn by war. He was just a decrepit scholar; he could not protect the child Ying.

Wei Ao, ashamed, bowed his head to the ground and said, "Gongsun Ziyang has always esteemed Lord Liu. He hopes Lord Liu can come south as well. Chengdu is warm and mild, suitable for one's retirement."

Wei Ao understood Liu Xin, and did not utter words like "Cheng family's State Preceptor" to provoke him.

Liu Xin shook his head and refused. "I am old and frail. The journey south into Shu is not easy. By the time I arrived, I fear I would be a corpse. If word spread that I had been harmed by the Gongsun and Wei clans, it would not be good for you or for Gongsun Ziyang."

Implicit in these words was the meaning: if you try to force me, I will die right before your eyes.

Wei Ao naturally dared not force him. Several days later, the frost and snow ceased. Fang Wang went north to the Western Qiang, while Wei Ao, taking his family and a mere few thousand remnant troops, traveled the Qiang road south to Wudu. Lintao was to become an abandoned city.

But the child Ying in the carriage, upon realizing that Liu Xin, who had treated him with the affection of a grandfather, was not coming along — he, who had been taught to be obedient and sensible, suddenly burst into loud wails, flailing his hands at the attendants and refusing to leave no matter what.

"Your Majesty."

Liu Xin could only lean on his pigeon-staff and console the child Ying, saying with tears in his eyes, "The land of Shu has much honey. Is Your Majesty not most fond of sweets?"

The child Ying calmed slightly, but still refused to let go of Liu Xin's hand, saying in halting words that he wanted the white-haired old man to come too, to eat sweets together.

Left with no choice, Liu Xin could only press his pigeon-staff into the child's hands. "Your Majesty, when you see this, it will be like seeing your old minister!"

The child Ying clutched the pigeon-staff tightly, frightened and bewildered. Liu Xin knew very well that this parting was forever. This old frame of bones did not have much time left.

And as Wei Ao departed, he did one good deed. He left Niu Han and the families and sons of the Longyou officers who had surrendered all behind in Lintao, for the Wei army that would come to take the city at some unknown time.

"Jimeng is a good man." Liu Xin sighed as he witnessed this, and could not help recalling their first meeting — that thick-bearded, burly man of Longyou speaking in perfectly standard, elegant diction to debate the classics. That contrast remained fresh in Liu Xin's memory.

After bidding farewell, Wei Ao turned back once more. This time, the tears on his face were not feigned but genuine emotion — after all, with this departure, he was leaving his homeland for good. He said quietly, "Perhaps I should have followed Lord Liu, devoted myself to scholarship at the Imperial Academy, and become an Erudite one day, instead of foolishly aspiring to the rank of a feudal lord."

Liu Xin was the same — he could have been a teacher better than anyone, yet he believed he could serve as State Preceptor.

He only mocked himself: "I wish to once more take the yellow dog with you and go out through Shangcai's eastern gate to chase the wily hare — but can that ever be?"

These were the words of Li Si, the Qin Chancellor, before his death. Liu Xin and Wei Ao, at least, had not yet suffered the Five Punishments.

As Wei Ao took his leave, he asked, "What plans does Lord Liu have from here on?"

"Wait for death in Lintao. If by luck I do not die, perhaps I may still return to my roots." Liu Xin spoke only this one ambiguous line.

The others had gone, leaving only the abandoned city of Lintao. Without his pigeon staff, Liu Xin had nothing left to support his hunched frame. He could only stoop and watch as the child Ying's carriage slowly faded into the distance.

Liu Xin had spent his final three years teaching the child Ying and protecting his life — that could be counted as having cleared his debt of guilt. But there were still two people, two matters, that he needed to settle.

One was Wang Mang. Wang Jujun was already dead; the debts of gratitude and grudges between Liu Xin and him could only be reckoned below the Yellow Springs.

But there was one more — the disciple of an old friend, who also counted as Liu Xin's junior. Though he had walked to the opposite side of restoring the Han, Liu Xin had heard in recent years of what he had done and still had to go see clearly for himself. There were some words from the heart that he hoped to speak to Diwu Lun.

The Dao of Heaven is round; the Dao of Earth is square. The square is dark and hidden; the round is bright and manifest. In a study, compass and square in hand, one draws perfect circles and thinks one can thereby draw the Dao of Heaven, Earth, and the people's livelihood? How utterly absurd.

"Diwu Lun must be just as I was back then, believing he holds the true ratio within his heart."

"But can he truly take all under Heaven as his diagram and draw new bounds of compass and square upon it?"

At this very moment, Diwu Lun was traveling the Huizhong Road through Xiao Pass, returning to Guanzhong — there was no help for it; after winter set in, the Long Slope was simply no place for humans to travel.

In a carriage jolting along the Huizhong Road, Diwu Lun received word that Qishan Fortress had fallen and the Longyou campaign was thereby concluded.

The Longyou forces had not been strong; the trouble Wei Ao's regime had created for them was far less than the perilous terrain itself. Yet that alone had sufficed to make the war extraordinarily grueling — it had taken a full half year.

In his delight, Diwu Lun could not help recalling lines from his teacher Yang Xiong's "Admonition for Liang Province."

"The Black River and the western bend, stretching across to the Kunlun range.

Submissive they point to Heaven's Gate, drawn as the boundary of Yong.

Ever under the last kings, its guiding thread was lost.

The Lord on High, unappeased, commanded Han to make Liang."

Liang Province had indeed lost its guiding thread. It had largely relied on the brilliance of Wan Xiu, Young Geng, and Wu Han, along with the loyal honesty of Diba Jiao — three Generals and one Inspector, each displaying their prowess, aiding Diwu Lun in subduing this vast province.

Though Gongsun Shu and the Longyou remnants would not resign themselves, so long as Qishan was held fast, Diwu Lun welcomed them to come and throw their lives away at any time.

Young Geng still had to watch over Bing Province. As for Liang Province, the four commanderies of Hexi were to be entrusted to Diba Jiao; Tianshui and Anding to Wan Xiu; Longxi and Jincheng to Wu Han — but a deputy adept at dealing smoothly with the Qiang people must be sent to assist him.

"The Han's Liang is already a thing of the past. This grey dragon of Liang Province has been bound by my long cord. Its colors must change — it shall become the Liang Province of Wei!"

But Diwu Lun had no chance to sit down and drink freely with the Generals, the Inspector, and the thousands of soldiers to share this joy. The reason he had hurried eastward before the campaign was decided was not only family matters — that his grandfather Diwu Ba was gravely ill, and that Diwu Lun's third child was due to be born at the start of spring.

It was also because of two urgent reports from the east...

One was within expectations: after autumn, the Red Eyebrow Army in the Central Plains had attacked Chenliu, which Ma Yuan was defending, and launched another fierce assault from Yingchuan toward Luoyang. They had truly come knocking!

But the other was entirely outside Diwu Lun's expectations.

"At the end of autumn, the Governor of Zhuo Commandery in You Province... has rebelled?"