Chapter 480: The Coffin Is Closed, the Verdict Is Set

Diwu Lun truly felt from the bottom of his heart that he was merely adding flowers to brocade in the old man's life.

Diwu Ba's first seventy years, and these final ten years, were, to the man himself, equally precious.

But while he lived, the old man understood his grandson's difficulties very well. He neither demanded extravagant honorific titles, nor paid much attention to those clansmen who constantly came seeking an audience, eagerly hoping to be granted the imperial surname and ranked among the royal family. He even refrained from making any requests of Diwu Lun on behalf of his two babbling "imperial uncles" — a rare restraint for an old man so fond of his youngest sons.

And so, the flowers laid after his passing must be added in sufficient abundance.

But how many flowers to add depends on the size of the wreath's frame. To put it plainly, what determined Diwu Ba's posthumous honors was the formal status Diwu Lun conferred upon him.

"In accordance with the Han dynasty's system for the Retired Emperor, bury him with imperial rites!"

The Han dynasty had only one Retired Emperor: Liu Bang's father. This old man, who nearly ended up boiled into meat porridge by Xiang Yu, after enduring that famous spectacle of fatherly love and filial piety, actually returned to his son's side and enjoyed a peaceful old age.

But then another problem arose: as Diwu Lun's grandfather, what should Diwu Ba be called? There was no precedent for this in the past.

The Confucian scholars, whose old trade was literally making a living off the dead, made their dazzling entrance. The Imperial Academy finally proved somewhat useful, as the Erudites cited classics and authorities, ultimately offering a title they found quite satisfactory: "Supreme Emperor!"

Diwu Lun asked only one question in return: "What sort of General does the rebel Zhang Feng of Zhuo Commandery call himself?"

It seemed to be "Supreme Grand General"... The crowd instantly fell silent.

Earlier, Jing Dan and Geng Chun, not knowing that Diwu Ba would pass away in the twelfth month, had submitted a memorial stating that Zhang Feng styled himself "Supreme" to invoke auspicious signs, but in their view, it meant "lacking a head above the neck."

The Erudites all shut their mouths and racked their brains once more. Finally, someone said: "The Han had the Retired Emperor and the Empress Dowager. Though there was no title of Imperial Grandfather, there was the Imperial Grandmother, the 'Grand Empress Dowager'!"

By this analogy, Diwu Ba's final title became "Grand Retired Emperor."

Once the title was settled and the seven-day funeral rites were smoothly conducted accordingly, by custom, on the day of the funeral procession, the posthumous name had to be selected.

Diwu Lun had the learned Grand Preceptor Zhang Zhan and others take the lead in the selection, but in truth, the final choice followed his own intent: they picked "Wei" — Majestic.

The "Explanation of Posthumous Names" states: "Strong, resolute, trustworthy, and upright is called Majestic." It truly matched Diwu Ba's character. In antiquity there was King Wei of Qi; now there was Emperor Wei of Wei — a fine posthumous name, to be sure.

However, the assembled ministers raised another sharp question: "Your Majesty, should we follow the old system and prefix the posthumous name with 'Xiao' — Filial?"

This was a Han dynasty rule. After all, they "governed the realm by filial piety." Starting from Emperor Hui of Han, every successive posthumous name was prefixed with the character "Xiao." This rule even became a cultural export, spreading to the Xiongnu, where fathers killing sons and sons murdering fathers had always been the fashion.

The Xiongnu Chanyu, whether he was stitching this trendy Han character onto his person as mere decorative pattern, ignorant of its true meaning, or genuinely intended to promote this virtue, actually began prefixing his title with "Ruodi" — and "Ruodi" means the great filial piety that makes the hall roar with laughter.

Under a different system, the ministers would not dare propose emulating the Han. But Diwu Lun's claim to fame was "filial piety and fraternal duty" — surely he could inherit this much?

"Emperor Gao of Han's posthumous name also lacked the 'Xiao' prefix."

You see, put that way, doesn't it just mean "Liu Bang was unfilial"? Must we then have "Diwu Lun is unfilial"?

Diwu Lun had no choice but to instruct his court literati to refute this moral blackmail.

The man beside him now most versed in classical allusions was Du Du, who rebutted the Imperial Academy Erudites and the assembled ministers in open court: "In the 'Eight Rows' chapter of the Analects, Zixia asked Confucius: 'The artful smile dimpling, the beautiful eyes glancing, the plain ground makes the colors shine — what does this mean?'"

"Confucius answered: 'The painting comes after the plain ground.'"

"The meaning is that ritual is the outward expression of propriety, but the plain ground is the inner sentiment of propriety. Filial piety is indeed the great way of human relations, but one cannot have only the outer form without the inner substance, the name without the reality."

This was an insinuation that although the Han house governed the realm by filial piety, in truth it was lacking. This character "Xiao" tied to every successive emperor meant that filial devotion was owed not only to the late emperor, but even more to the still-living Empress Dowager and Grand Empress Dowager. The jurisprudential root of their power came precisely from this. The Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager could call themselves "Zhen," could depose emperors — it was easily exploited by consort clans.

Although Diwu Lun paid great attention to his health and was confident he would live long, the lesson of the overturned cart ahead must still be remembered.

He therefore proclaimed: Though Wei still esteems filial piety, it need no longer emulate the Han by insisting on affixing the label, as if afraid others might not know of one's filial devotion.

Having barely resolved the "Xiao" issue, and with the funeral procession conducted by imperial rites, what followed next was the selection of the tomb site.

Diwu Lun knew his grandfather wished to return to his roots, and had chosen his hometown, Changling County. That place was originally Liu Bang's mausoleum town. Since even Tian Heng's shrine had already been erected beside Liu Bang's High Temple, tombs were no different — they could just squeeze in a little more.

Only, Changling would henceforth be renamed "Zhuangling." The old rule applied: for mausoleum towns, a near-synonym of the posthumous name must be chosen — "High" paired with "Long," "Majestic" paired with "Solemn."

Because the realm was not yet unified, everything was kept simple: the mountain itself served as the tomb, with no separate earthen mound raised.

This point won unanimous approval from the ministers. The Han dynasty had expended vast wealth and resources building tombs for successive emperors. Most notably during Emperor Cheng of Han's reign, the imperial tomb was half-built when Chen Tang, having taken bribes, submitted a memorial saying the site should be relocated for better fortune, allowing the bribe-givers to make a fortune selling land. He also tampered with the construction funds, resulting in Changling, built in a low-lying marsh, becoming a famously disastrous unfinished project.

This lesson was still recent. With just a single glance from Diwu Lun, the opinion circles of Chang'an could dig up General Chen Tang's dark history and flog it repeatedly. For a time, even the Imperial Academy crowd favored simple burials, hoping the Wei Emperor would not emulate Emperor Cheng or Emperor Wu of Han, but follow Emperor Wen of Han.

Diwu Lun then proclaimed: Taking the Grand Retired Emperor's mausoleum as the standard, descendants in later generations shall also refrain from using gold, silver, bronze, or tin as ornamentation. Diwu Ba disliked such gaudy things, favoring military equipment and goods from the Western Regions. The miniature terracotta warriors that Han princes had would suit him very well, along with some newly crafted tri-colored glazed pottery camels from the workshops, and half-figure figurines of alluring foreign beauties — that would suffice.

Think that was the end of it? Not at all. Simultaneously with the tomb site, construction also began on the "Grand Retired Emperor's Temple." Diwu Biao, that crude fellow, had probably taken on a few literati as aides and retainers, for he actually led the imperial clan in clamoring to bestow a temple name upon Diwu Ba...

"Your Majesty."

Diwu Biao perhaps truly harbored deep feelings for Diwu Ba — likely the kind forged during their fight over water rights back in the day. Having grown gaunt these past days, Diwu Biao said to Diwu Lun, who was still wearing the unhemmed mourning garb of raw sackcloth: "Biao has not read many books, but I have heard it said that every emperor builds a dedicated temple for later generations to perform sacrifices. Yet even for the Son of Heaven, there are only seven temples. Thus, often after seven generations, the earliest temple is destroyed."

This seemingly "unfilial" act had a necessary practical reason. After all, in the previous dynasty, someone had submitted a memorial stating that commoners' ancestral sacrifices consumed as much as one-third of a household's annual expenditure. How much more enormous, then, was the cost of the sovereign's sacrificial temples? One or two temples were easy, but a lineage spanning over ten generations, or even dozens as in the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, became an unbearable burden.

Thus, to let the living catch their breath, the rule of destroying temples and ending sacrifices was established.

Diwu Biao wept and lamented: "Your servant's heart aches at the thought that six or seven generations hence, the Grand Retired Emperor's temple will be destroyed by Your Majesty's descendants!"

There was a precedent for this. By the time the Han dynasty passed to Emperors Yuan and Cheng, it began to buckle under the enormous sacrificial expenses. All local High Temples were abolished, and the court struggle over temple abolition persisted for generations. Whenever the abolitionist faction prevailed, Liu Taigong's Retired Emperor Temple was often the second to face the knife — the first to be cut was invariably Emperor Hui of Han's temple.

Diwu Biao raised his head and said: "But there are also temples that must not be abolished!"

Diwu Lun had long understood his meaning: "You wish to request that a temple name be established for the Grand Retired Emperor?"

Posthumous names were standard for emperors, kings, ministers, and grandees, but temple names were far rarer. Since the Shang dynasty, only those former kings who had rendered great service to the state and were worthy of eternal sacrifice by their descendants were specially granted a temple name, signifying that a temple would forever be maintained for their worship.

As far as Diwu Lun knew, the Han dynasty was extremely cautious about granting temple names. The Retired Emperor never got one. Liu Bang, as founding monarch, received the temple name Taizu — Grand Ancestor. Emperor Wen of Han, in his image as a sage ruler, became Taizong — Grand Exemplar.

Next, Emperor Jing of Han, whose character had flaws, did not qualify. The ambitious and brilliant Emperor Wu of Han, because his policies repeatedly erred in his later years and he was forced to issue an "Edict of Self-Reproach," failed to receive a temple name upon his death amid widespread criticism. Only decades later did his great-grandson, Emperor Xuan of Han, Liu Bingyi, posthumously honor him as Shizong — Generational Exemplar. Emperor Xuan himself, for his great achievement in restoring the dynasty, became Zhongzong — Revitalizing Exemplar.

Up to this point, the standards were still strict. But thereafter, temple names, like certain award ceremonies, began to forget their original purpose and lose their authority.

Even Diwu Biao knew that the temple names of the late Han were a joke. He declared indignantly: "Emperor Yuan of Han was Gaozong, Emperor Cheng of Han was Yuanzong, Emperor Ping of Han was Tongzong..."

Brother Biao had recited it wrong; his cover was blown. Du Du, attending nearby, coughed and reminded him: "Commandant, Tongzong was Emperor Cheng; Yuanzong was Emperor Ping."

Diwu Biao, having made a fool of himself, glared fiercely at Du Du — no one asked you! He continued: "Whatever they're called, I've always heard these men were all inept rulers. If even they could receive temple names, can the Grand Retired Emperor not?"

Indeed — one was a man utterly unremarkable who "disordered my house," one was insatiably lecherous and died depleted, and the last was a monarch who lost his kingdom... Were they even worthy?

Diwu Lun fell into thought. Diwu Biao was ordinarily crude and vulgar; how could he care about such matters? It could only be that outsiders had perceived the deep bond between Diwu Ba and Diwu Lun, grandfather and grandson, and sought to honor Diwu Ba by piling more flowers upon him, thereby currying favor with the still-living Diwu Lun!

But Diwu Lun detested others overstepping their bounds. The flowers before the old man's tomb — whether red or white, fresh or withered, which were fitting and which were not — could only be decided by me. Were you worthy?

So after pondering, Diwu Lun said: "If judged purely by personal sentiment, I would of course wish to fix a temple name for the Grand Retired Emperor, so that he may forever receive sacrifices from our descendants alongside me."

"But the house of Han truly perished under Yuan and Cheng, as can be seen from the indiscriminate bestowal of temple names. Those three temple names — Gao, Tong, Yuan — were all forced through by Wang Mang against all opposition, to curry favor with the Grand Empress Dowager Wang Zhengjun and elevate his own achievements in pacifying the Han. How could I emulate Wang Jujun?"

"If we used that as the benchmark to grant the Grand Retired Emperor a temple name, in my view, it would not be an honor, but a degradation!"

"If this precedent is set, then every successive monarch of Wei, whether worthy or foolish, could all receive temple names." Just as Diwu Lun intended to add "Grand" to every general's title, diluting the value of Grand General — if everyone has a temple name, what difference is there from no one having one?

"The Grand Empress Dowager has always been stern with the clan. She would never wish to see this happen."

Diwu Ba was like the fire tongs in his hand. When Diwu Lun first arrived in this era, without the old man's hammering, he would not have made the progress he has today — a transmigrator, after all, is not a perfect man.

Now Diwu Ba has passed on, but Diwu Lun hopes that his tomb, his temple, his image and his story can still become a pair of hard, unyielding fire tongs, to keep on lashing the clan!

"In the future, we must make the old master's fire tongs a ritual vessel of Great Wei, to be passed down from generation to generation."

Passed on to whom? Diwu Lun himself was of course not suitable. Diba Jiao, who once served as Minister of the Imperial Clan and is now in Hexi, would be a perfect fit — he truly is a man of unswerving integrity.

Thinking of that future scene — the "Eighth Virtuous Prince" wielding the iron fire tongs, carrying out family law in court to punish a clan member who overstepped — Diwu Lun could not help wanting to laugh.

But during the great mourning period, one absolutely must not laugh. Diwu Lun sighed and said: "I know the Commandant of the Capital is grieved, but these matters should be left to our descendants six or seven generations hence to decide. Whether it is the Grand Empress Dowager or myself, must not all merits and faults be left to posterity to judge?"

As time passes, whether long or short, history will always give a person the judgment he deserves. Deliberate glorification, private slander — how long can they last? Carving one's name into stone, hoping for immortality — does it help? Better not to bring disgrace upon the old master.

Di Qibiao knew he had once again put his flattery on the wrong hoof. He could only mumble a retreat, then went off in a huff to take it out on those advisors and retainers.

After Brother Biao's failed charge at the tower, no one dared bring the matter up again. It was Diwu Lun who, during the mourning vigil, suddenly recalled that he had truly forgotten to nail down the final verdict on a certain "dead man."

"What posthumous title do you think I should bestow upon Wang Mang?" Diwu Lun, touching the hempen mourning clothes he wore, suddenly asked those beside him.

Indeed, Wang Mang has been "dead" for three years. Since Wei acknowledges the Xin Dynasty, should he not also be called "Emperor Something of Xin"? Diwu Lun had actually forgotten — in this one matter, he truly had let Wang Mang down.

The next words from Diwu Lun — no one could tell if he was joking or serious.

"Go and look it up. In the 'Explications of Posthumous Titles,' is there a character 'bore'?"