Chapter 50: Why Are You So Skilled at This?

In Diba Jiao's imagination, as a ducal prince, Wang Zong's household ought to have been extravagantly luxurious. But once the household steward led them inside, he discovered that while the residence was certainly large, its furnishings were much the same as most homes in Xuanming Ward: the lacquer on the gates was old, and the servants and slaves all wore plain black and coarse brown clothes.

While waiting at the inner gate for the host to come welcome them, Diba Jiao could not help lowering his voice to ask Diwu Lun: "Boyu, how does this place compare with Changping Lodge?"

Diwu Lun said, "The Qiongcheng Marquis's mansion is extravagant and ostentatious, but the Gongchong Ducal Prince's mansion is plain and simple to the extreme."

In fact, the frugality seemed almost a little forced.

This also confirmed what Yang Xiong had told Diwu Lun: the Emperor Wang Mang kept the imperial clan and royal house under extremely tight control, to the point of harshness.

The Wang clan had risen to prominence under Emperor Cheng of Han, when the Empress Dowager Wang Zhengjun and the Grand General Wang Feng held power, and the governors, chancellors, and inspectors of the commanderies and kingdoms all came from the Wang family's patronage.

Emperor Cheng also enfeoffed his other maternal uncles as marquises: Wang Tan as the Marquis of Ping'a, Wang Shang as the Marquis of Chengdu, Wang Li as the Marquis of Hongyang, Wang Gen as the Marquis of Quyang, and Wang Fengshi as the Marquis of Gaoping. The people of the time called them the "Five Marquises."

The Five Marquises' arrogance, extravagance, and debauchery were notorious, and a "Song of the Five Marquises" was even sung around Chang'an:

"When the Five Marquises first rose, Quyang was the fiercest of all.

He breached the Gaodu canal, linking all the way to Outer Du.

His earthen hill and tiered terrace rivaled the White Tiger Hall in the west."

The five men vied with one another in extravagance. The most brazen, the Marquis of Quyang, Wang Gen, built his mansions all in imitation of the Son of Heaven's own standards — gateways like caverns, high colonnades, covered walkways linking everything, stretching as far as the eye could see. When Emperor Cheng of Han went out incognito and discovered that the earthen hill and tiered terrace in Wang Gen's estate were even taller than the White Tiger Hall in Weiyang Palace, and then recalled that Wang clan partisans like Gu Yong had dared remonstrate and attack the Emperor for being too extravagant, Emperor Cheng felt utterly wronged.

The Marquis of Chengdu, Wang Shang, was no better. Wanting to escape the summer heat, he actually borrowed the Mingguang Palace (Ding'an Lodge) across from Xuanming Ward from Emperor Cheng to live in. He also sent men to dig a great hole beneath the city wall and channel the Feng River into his own garden to form a pool, where he rowed a boat and sang the "Song of the Yue Boatman" at the top of his voice, thoroughly enjoying himself.

As for the Marquis of Hongyang, Wang Li, he liked to shelter criminals and fugitives; his retainers were mostly bandits who robbed houses and plundered villages on his behalf, yet neither the Metropolitan Commandant nor the Governor of the Capital dared bring charges against him.

The Five Marquises stirred the capital into a foul mess, and the upright officials of the court at the time, men like Liu Xiang, directed the spearhead of their attacks squarely at the Wang clan.

That was until the Wang clan produced the anomaly that was Wang Mang. Not only was he himself plain and unadorned, but once he took power, he began dealing with the clan's malignancies with sweeping strokes. He convicted the Marquis of Hongyang, Wang Li, and the Marquis of Ping'a, Wang Ren — the two with the worst reputations — and forced them to commit suicide, and confiscated residences that exceeded the proper specifications for the state.

The family ethos of the Yuancheng Wang clan changed overnight, and they became "consort kin with a conscience," standing in stark contrast to the domineering and lawless Ding and Fu clans under Emperor Ai of Han. As a result, "all under Heaven could not help but long for the Wang clan."

In the end, it produced the scene of solitary purity found in the Gongchong Ducal Prince's mansion.

Whatever Wang Mang's myriad faults, his ability to keep his own family in check was indeed admirable, but Diwu Lun thought to himself: "Yet he can only discipline his own imperial descendants. The Qiongcheng Marquis's mansion at Changping Lodge arrays bells and chime stones, dances with Zheng maidens, stages variety shows, races hounds and horses, and does whatever it pleases — and I've never seen the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties lift a finger to control them."

"Government decrees don't reach beyond the city of Chang'an!"

He figured that the imperial clansmen and royal kin must also harbor some discontent toward Wang Mang. When the Xin supplanted the Han through abdication, apart from empty titular enfeoffments for which they received no real stipends, they gained very few benefits. When you thought about it carefully, they had been better off living freely as consort kin under the Han.

Among the very foundations of Wang Mang's rule, even the imperial clan members, who ought to have been the most steadfast, were probably somewhat unsteady.

Just then, the inner gate of the Gongchong Ducal Prince's mansion swung fully open, and a ducal prince wearing a far-roaming cap and a crimson-yellow robe, his face as fair as polished jade, walked out. This must be Wang Zong.

The disparity in status was too great, so the two men made a deep bow with clasped hands and said, "Diwu Lun and Diba Jiao pay their respects to the Gongchong Ducal Prince."

"Boyu, Jizheng, please rise, quickly."

He actually knew Diwu Lun's and Diba Jiao's courtesy names; it seemed he had done quite a bit of homework in advance.

They sized one another up. Wang Zong was about the same age as Diba Jiao. The Xin Dynasty had not yet conferred any kingships, so a ducal prince was the highest rank of feudal lord. Yet Wang Zong conducted himself with the humility of one who treats the worthy with deference. Not only did he open the inner gate to welcome them, he also exchanged the ritual deferential bows with Diwu Lun and Diba Jiao three times before ushering them into the courtyard.

Diwu Lun noticed that he wore a goatskin jacket of the kind only the poor wore, rather than fox fur or sable — he was carrying the persona of the Sage Grandson through to the very end. Diba Jiao noticed it too, and his favorable impression of Wang Zong multiplied.

Behind the inner gate, a high minister in a purple robe and a martial officer's grand cap stood with his hands behind his back. It seemed Wang Zong had other guests today besides them.

Wang Zong led the two men over. "This is one of the court's 'Four Generals': the General of the Guard, the Marquis of Fengxin."

Diwu Lun recalled now — that Ai Zhang who had come to brainwash them with grand talk of prophecies and portents: in the golden casket and heavenly writ he had presented back then, hadn't he fabricated two men, one called Wang Xing and one called Wang Sheng?

Wang Mang had turned the fraud into reality, summoning everyone in Chang'an city with those two names and having diviners read their fortunes one by one, until the final choices were settled. Wang Sheng, a peddler who sold flatbread on Guanqian Street, and Wang Xing, a gate-watch soldier at Fugu Gate, became the lucky ones. Not only were they enfeoffed as ducal princes, they were also selected among the eleven key ministers of the Xin central government. Wang Xing became General of the Guard, though his actual duty remained gate-watching — he guarded the Palace Coach Office and the Majors of the Forbidden Precincts at the Shoucheng Hall.

Wang Xing had also married Wang Zong's elder sister, and after becoming relatives, their mansions were adjacent and they visited frequently.

Wang Zong then introduced them to the Marquis of Fengxin: "Diwu Boyu is a man of high renown despite his youth; his virtue and conduct are on everyone's lips. I ask you, in all the eight avenues and nine wards of Chang'an today, who does not know of your name for filial piety and righteousness?"

He praised Diba Jiao along the way as well: "As for Jizheng, he too is no common man. Raising the banner at the Imperial Academy, the crowds gathered and answered his call — he is truly the Wang Xian of our age."

He lauded them: "Confucius said, 'In a hamlet of ten households, there will surely be loyalty and trustworthiness.' That a tiny place like Linqu Township should produce the two of you is like a phoenix pair roosting on a single tree — truly rare."

"We are but ordinary men, nobodies who have stumbled into fame by sheer luck. How dare we accept such undeserved praise from the Gongchong Ducal Prince?"

Diwu Lun repeatedly protested, but the more deferential the other party was, the higher his internal alarm soared. Diba Jiao, on the other hand, had never seen such grand treatment and was getting a little dizzy from all the flattery.

The Marquis of Fengxin spoke up at the right moment with a prepared line: "Could it be that what the Gongchong Ducal Prince was painting just now was the story of these two men?"

The group followed Wang Zong into the courtyard, where they saw several servants, some standing, some kneeling, holding open silk paintings with both hands.

"The Gongchong Ducal Prince is a skilled painter," said the Marquis of Fengxin, Wang Xing. "His figures and their attire are all vividly lifelike. He ordinarily does not easily set brush to paper; you are fortunate to see this today."

The men drew close for a look. Though they did not quite understand the art, they could see that the two silk paintings were done in meticulous brushwork with heavy colors, the outlines even, fine, and forceful — painted with great care.

One painting depicted an indoor scene. Rendered in black ink were the figures of two men. One of them still had his hair in a child's looped tufts on top of his head, tied with a headcloth, and was bending over to politely decline a piece of fruit in his hand. Judging by the color, was it a pear?

Diwu Lun immediately understood what Wang Zong was up to. Sure enough, when it came to the tricks of winning people's hearts, the old Wang family next door really had them down pat!

"This is 'The Picture of Boyu Declining the Pear,'" Wang Zong said. "After hearing this story, I found it quite charming and so I painted it."

Diba Jiao, meanwhile, was staring fixedly at the other painting, somewhat stirred. That scene was set outdoors, with a larger number of figures. The protagonist occupied the center and upper portion of the composition alone, holding a banner in his hand, his expression resolute.

"This is 'The Picture of Jizheng Raising the Banner.' Though a thousand oppose him, still he marches on — magnificent!"

Wang Zong had the servants present the two paintings to them. "This is your first visit to my residence. As you have seen, my humble house is plain and spare, and I have nothing worth presenting as a gift. I shall give these two paintings to Boyu and Jizheng as keepsakes!"

"Many thanks to the Gongchong Ducal Prince." Neither servile nor overbearing, Diwu Lun thanked him calmly and accepted the gift.

But his attention was not entirely on Wang Zong and the paintings; he instead glanced sidelong at the maidservant delivering the painting.

To match the household's atmosphere of simplicity, their skirts were cut short to just cover the knees, leaving their shins exposed. Kneeling on the ground in the bitter cold, their knees and ankles were purple with frostbite. For the sake of this play Wang Zong had so meticulously staged, who knew how long they had been holding out. That was why Diwu Lun had accepted the painting so quickly.

He glanced over at Diba Jiao's side and thought to himself: This is not good.

Diba Jiao's face bore a complicated expression; he seemed about to speak but then stopped himself. He merely prostrated himself and knocked his head heavily on the ground three times before Wang Zong, and only then did he solemnly receive the silk painting with both hands.

"Gongchong Ducal Prince, this is the most weighty gift I have ever received in my life. I will surely treasure it carefully and pass it down to my descendants!"

…

At the banquet, there was no entertainment of song, dance, strings, or pipes either. Wang Zong ate simple millet rice with bean paste, and watching him chew with such effort, it was instead Diwu Lun's and Diba Jiao's tables that had fish and meat.

When Diba Jiao asked why this was so, Wang Zong sighed and said he had heard that famine had struck the border garrisons again, and that within the palace the Son of Heaven himself had reduced his meals until his face looked gaunt. How could he, as a grandson, stomach fine delicacies?

The Marquis of Fengxin, Wang Xing, was the perfect straight man, immediately chiming in to praise Wang Zong's worthiness and self-reflection, which made Diba Jiao nod repeatedly.

Diwu Lun, however, was thinking the opposite of what he said. It was mainly that he was far too familiar with these routines — we're all thousand-year foxes here; who are you trying to fool with these ghost stories?

Diba Jiao was just the son of an ordinary small landlord, a man who had never had much of a reputation in his hometown since childhood, and who had not stood out much even after entering the Imperial Academy. It was only the day before yesterday, when he had thrown caution to the wind to rescue Diwu Lun, that he had been pushed to the forefront.

The view from the crest of the wave was indeed vastly different from being a little ripple hidden beneath the swells. Praised often enough, anyone would start to feel light-headed.

And the Duke of Gongchong's uniquely brilliant gesture of gifting the painting made Diba Jiao's hairs stand on end — it felt much like an ancient knight-errant receiving a treasured sword, a famous steed, or a fragrant jade from his lord.

Coupled with Wang Zong's subtly revealed simple, people-loving heart, Diba Jiao was already won over. He loudly requested that the fish and meat on the table be taken away — he, too, would eat plain dry rice.

Diwu Lun, however, kept eating without pause, only smiling and saying he had been starved in the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties' residence.

Wang Zong, for his part, merely regarded Diba Jiao as a bonus; his main efforts remained focused on recruiting Diwu Lun.

Once everyone had eaten their fill and the moment seemed ripe, at a glance from Wang Zong, the Duke of Fengxin, Wang Xing, asked Diwu Lun about the selection and assignment of Palace Gentlemen.

As it turned out, as newly appointed Outer Gentlemen, they generally entered the capital in the tenth month, underwent two months of "training" to familiarize themselves with government decrees, laws, and administrative procedures, and then between the twelfth and first months underwent selection and assignment to determine their future postings.

"Palace Gentlemen correspond to the constellations above and go out to govern a hundred li. As Outer Gentlemen, they are generally appointed to county offices — most become Assistant Magistrates or County Commandants, with a rank of four hundred dan, as Middle Officers."

"Only the most outstanding can become County Magistrates or Marquisate Chancellors, with ranks of five hundred to six hundred."

Of course, a very small number could be directly selected to serve under the Four Supports, Three Dukes, or Nine Ministers as Senior Officers of six hundred dan. Some even transferred from Outer Gentlemen to Palace Gentlemen or Inner Gentlemen, entering the forbidden palace precincts to bear halberds on watch, guard the various palace gates, and serve in the Emperor's mounted retinue when he traveled.

Wang Xing pointed at Diwu Lun and said, "A Terrace Gentleman is a prominent post, a thoroughfare of official career. Boyu has virtue and great talent, but he has already left a record in the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties' office. I fear he will not get a good assignment and can only serve as an Assistant or Commandant, bowing beneath others in some county. A true pity."

Diwu Lun, however, shook his head and said, "If that is so, then it is my fate. A bronze seal and black ribbon are, after all, external things — gaining them brings no joy, losing them brings no sorrow."

"Boyu, do not be disheartened," Wang Zong said. "The Right Master of Fates, Kong Ren, is my brother-in-law. Since Boyu was wrongly imprisoned, that can hardly count as a blemish on his record."

At this, Wang Zong rose with his wine cup and walked to the center of the hall. He sighed and said, "To speak of it, my Duchy of Gongchong lies far away in Xindu County in the Front Column. Though the land is vast, rich, and fertile, moral transformation is difficult to carry out there. It still lacks a Chancellor of virtue and high renown to govern it."

As expected, Wang Zong was still far from matching Wang Mang's seamless, rain-nourishing-everything manner of recruiting talent — this was slightly too deliberate and eager. After all, he was only a young man in his early twenties; his craft was not yet practiced.

He looked at Diwu Lun, utterly confident of success: "If Boyu is willing, I can have people arrange things so that you are selected and assigned as Chancellor of the Duchy of Gongchong — to assist me in promoting goodness and encouraging righteousness, prohibiting wickedness and punishing evil, settling lawsuits and quelling banditry, caring for the people's seasonal labors, and spreading the Way of the Sages!"

At these words, Wang Xing promptly clapped his hands and laughed heartily, urging Diwu Lun to agree quickly. A ducal chancellor of six hundred dan, in Xindu of the Front Column — the very place where the present Son of Heaven first took flight — this was absolutely a top assignment for an Outer Gentleman.

Diba Jiao was also full of delighted surprise, genuinely happy for Diwu Lun, yet still felt a faint trace of loneliness, which he hurriedly drowned with wine.

Diwu Lun was overjoyed as well — but not for any other reason, rather...

"It's finally here. The 'three refusals' I've been so eagerly awaiting may be late, but they will never be absent!"

Diwu Lun rose and stepped away from his mat. Just as Wang Zong fully expected him to bow his head and prostrate himself, Diwu Lun instead said:

"I am grateful for your generous regard and ought to repay it, but my foolish nature rather delights in idle leisure. I have long had no intention of pursuing official rank and fame. The Duke of Gongchong should seek another of superior ability!"

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