Chapter 522: Martyrdom for the Dao

"Please, Fan Xijun, cast your tile."

Unlike Wang Mang, who called him "Elder Fan" at every turn, Zhu Di usually addressed Fan Chong by his courtesy name. This allowed him to maintain the dignity of a court official while still showing a minimum of respect for the great outlaw who had once shaken the realm.

From what Zhu Di had seen, Diwu Lun surely held Fan Chong in some esteem as well — otherwise he would not have kept him alive for so long. His Majesty the Emperor never showed mercy when killing; from the surviving elders of the Former Han to the powerful clans north of the Wei, anyone who threatened his rule met the swift fall of the blade!

Those who had once been his enemies yet still lived — Fan Chong, Wang Mang, and, it was said, old Liu Xin, who had already reached Chang'an — each had some particular reason for their survival.

Zhu Di pointed to his left and right, using himself as the dividing line. "Cast right, and you support Wang Mang's death. Cast left, and you support letting him live."

A simple binary choice. Any more complicated, and this game that Diwu Lun found so intriguing would become unworkable.

Fan Chong sat inside his cage, frowning as he looked at the small shard of tile in his hand.

To him, this was a blatant copy of Red Eyebrow custom. The Red Eyebrow Army had always loved deciding life and death this way. After capturing Dong Xian, Fan Chong himself had once cast a tile in favor of letting him live.

But today, this tile seemed heavier than it had that day.

Searching his heart, Fan Chong knew that the reason he endured such humiliation and clung to life was a single stubborn hope — he wanted to see with his own eyes the death of Wang Mang, the man who had destroyed his family and brought him to ruin!

Yet just as Fan Chong was about to throw the tile to the right, he stopped.

What came to mind was not only Wang Mang's torment of the common people while on the throne, the evil he had done to them directly and indirectly. He also remembered Nanyang, Wancheng — in the dim candlelight, the old farmer, eyelids drooping, fighting off sleep as he spoke to him of the "Promised Land" and poured his heart into planning the Red Eyebrows' future.

To some degree, Fan Chong revered "the old farmer" as his teacher.

But to let Wang Mang off because of that was absolutely impossible. That would mean forgiveness — and a betrayal of the very purpose for which the Red Eyebrows had risen in arms!

Now those two figures overlapped into one. How could it not fill a man with turmoil, making the choice unbearable?

Moreover, Fan Chong could not shake the feeling that whichever way he chose, he was still under Diwu Lun's control — reduced to a tool in his humiliation and torment of Wang Mang.

Seeing this, Zhu Di recalled that on the day Diwu Lun learned Wang Mang was still alive, the Emperor had hesitated in much the same way. He could easily have leaked word and had Wang Mang killed by the Red Eyebrow Army or some other hand — it would have been far too simple. Yet His Majesty had wrestled with it for an entire night, and in the end resolved to judge Wang Mang's whole life by a more complex, more protracted method.

A crisp clatter pulled Zhu Di from his reverie. Fan Chong had thrown his tile — hurling it hard at Zhu Di's feet. Then he folded his arms across his chest, staring at Zhu Di with open defiance, the posture of a man refusing to cooperate.

But Zhu Di only smiled. This, too, was within His Majesty's expectations.

He announced the result in a loud voice.

"Fan Xijun — abstains!"

…

The news of Fan Chong's abstention came as an immense relief to Wang Mang. Just look at the old man — even his hands, as he pretended to leaf through the ancient texts, had grown noticeably lighter.

But Fan Chong was now caged and could no longer sway the Red Eyebrow captives. His abstention merely meant one fewer knife to stab at Wang Mang's heart.

Under the Wei Army's supervision, the Red Eyebrow captives scattered across the commanderies of Chenliu and Jiyin for land reclamation held their own dispersed referendums. This was a practice they had long been accustomed to, and they threw their tiles with practiced ease.

The final result did not differ greatly from what Diwu Lun had foreseen.

"Fifty percent of the Red Eyebrow captives chose to see the Elder Wang dead."

Diwu Lun announced this to Wang Mang with evident relish.

"Thirty percent refused to cast their tiles — whether out of lingering defiance toward this dynasty, or simply because they could not decide."

"What is interesting is that a full twenty percent chose to let the Elder Wang live. According to the Embroidered Uniform Commandant's investigation, most of these were men who had dealings with you in Nanyang or Huaiyang, or who received land and property under your administration."

Wang Mang finally raised his head. What emotion lay in his eyes? Relief? Pleasure? At least twenty percent — nearly twenty thousand Red Eyebrow captives — in whose hearts affection and respect for the old farmer outweighed their loathing and hatred for Wang Mang. His two years among the Red Eyebrow Army had not been spent in vain.

But Diwu Lun continued, "However, since the Red Eyebrows are captives, they naturally cannot be counted as equals of soldiers or civilians. They count as half-persons — each gets half a vote. These twenty thousand men amount to only ten thousand votes…"

A fine move — slashing Wang Mang's voter base by half in one stroke, making his hope of "survival" even more remote. Wang Mang, utterly unsurprised by Diwu Lun's shamelessness, merely sneered. "Power rests in your hands. Even if you declared every tile cast by the Red Eyebrows who wished me to live null and void, I would not be the least bit astonished."

Diwu Lun shot back, "Giving up already, Elder Wang? I have already dispatched officials to Yuancheng in Wei Commandery, and to Xindu County in Nanyang, which has just submitted to Wei, to oversee the local people casting their tiles. Yuancheng is your hometown, Elder Wang, where your ancestral tombs lie — exempt from taxes year after year."

"Xindu, on the other hand, has just suffered great turmoil. The common people have scattered and fled; it will be hard to gather them quickly. And with bandits still running rampant, a public vote is impossible. So we will substitute Wugong County in Youfufeng. Wugong, like Xindu, was your fief, Elder Wang — once called 'Xinguang Hamlet,' where the white stone auspicious omen appeared, and it enjoyed even greater tax exemptions."

"Will the people of Yuancheng and Wugong remember past kindness, recall the benefits you once bestowed, and show mercy?"

Wang Mang fell silent. In the past, he would have been confident, certain that the people of those two places were utterly loyal to him.

But the year Diwu Lun rose in arms and Wang Mang fled, he had hoped to take refuge in Wugong — only to find that when the wall was falling, everyone gave it a shove. It was sheer ingratitude.

As for Yuancheng — Wang Mang had once refused to approve a flood-control plan that would restore the old course of the great river, all to protect his ancestral tombs. A dozen or more commanderies east of the pass had essentially suffered disaster in Yuancheng's stead. Surely they owed him some old sentiment? But Wei Commandery was also Diwu Lun's stronghold, now the seat of the "Northern Capital." If Diwu Lun wanted him dead, would the people of Yuancheng dare defy him?

At some point, Wang Mang — who had once been so certain that "the hearts of the people are with me" — had lost his confidence. Only after walking among the common folk did he understand how bitterly hated those reforms, which he had once believed were for the good of all under heaven, truly were. Hatred for the house extended to the crow on its roof. He had become the most reviled emperor since the Han began…

If even Yuancheng and Wugong were like this, what of Chang'an and Luoyang, with their far larger populations, which had suffered most deeply under the Five Equalization System and the currency debasements? Wang Mang did not dare even to imagine. The more he thought, the deeper his despair — not from fear of death, but because he secretly yearned for his actions to be understood by the people of the world.

Yet Diwu Lun always thrust the cruel truth before his eyes, refusing to let Wang Mang slumber in his delusions of sagehood. That was his purpose, was it not?

And so Wang Mang kept up his stubborn front. "A traitorous minister manipulating public opinion, determined to put me to death. What does death matter? In any case, whether on the throne or in the wilderness, I have been unable to restore peace to the world. Since that is so, I can only offer my body in martyrdom for the Dao!"

Diwu Lun laughed heartily. "That is Mencius, is it not? Well said — when the world is well-ordered, one toils heart and soul to realize the Dao, not begrudging even death; when the world is dark and disordered, one would rather die upholding the Dao than live in compromise."

"But, Elder Wang — there seems to be one more line after that."

Diwu Lun's expression grew solemn. "The Dao exists between heaven and earth. It will never bend itself to accommodate any man, nor sacrifice itself for him. Elder Wang, you imagine the Dao is bound up in your own person — that with your death, the Dao among men will perish. You think far too much of yourself!"

"You—!" Wang Mang was so furious that smoke seemed to pour from every orifice of his head. He slammed the table and rose — but the force of Diwu Lun's presence drove him back into his seat.

Diwu Lun smiled. "Heaven's course is constant. Respond to it with good governance, and there is blessing; respond to it with chaos, and there is calamity. On this journey west to Luoyang and Chang'an, Elder Wang, you would do well to open your eyes wide and look. Strange to say, but once this world left your hands and came into mine, it has actually grown better — more in accord with the Dao!"

Having punctured the old man's self-congratulatory sentiment with two sentences, Diwu Lun then gave Wang Mang, who was still racking his brains for a rebuttal, a piece of good news.

"We cannot focus solely on the public votes."

"Those witnesses who lived through the Wang dynasty and have something to say must still take the stand, one by one."

Here Diwu Lun's tone lost its sharp edge and softened. "This witness is Liu Xin."

At that name, Wang Mang froze on the spot. Diwu Lun, Diwu Lun — every step he took landed squarely on his sorest point!

"Liu Xin did not follow Wei Ao and the child Ying into Shu. Instead, he traveled from Liang Province to Chang'an. I imagine he has something to say to me and feared he might not get the chance, so he dragged his ailing body eastward. He has now reached Luoyang."

"Those one befriends must share one's purpose. Liu Zijun was your old friend, Elder Wang, and your comrade in reform — yet in the end, you became estranged enemies. No one alive knows the inside story of your reforms better than he. And with his extraordinary literary talent, he is sure to provide testimony both thorough and well-measured. We must go and see him."

"But we had better hurry."

Diwu Lun clasped his hands behind his back and glanced back at Wang Mang. "Word from Luoyang says that since Liu Xin arrived, he has been bedridden and is nearing his end."

…

From last spring to this year, the two great campaigns in Longyou and Heji — armies of over a hundred thousand men campaigning across several provinces, and hundreds of thousands of laborers hauling supplies — had essentially eaten through the grain reserves. The Central Plains in particular, already devastated by the repeated depredations of the Red Eyebrows and the Greenwood, had seen once-wealthy regions turned into uninhabited wastes. The Wei Army could not hope to obtain supplies locally; everything had to be transported from the rear.

The pace of war had therefore slowed. In the first half of this year, the strategy Diwu Lun set for his generals and ministers was to bring the commanderies of Yan Province and Yu Province under methodical control. Wherever they went, they were to suppress bandits and Red Eyebrow remnants, press forward with land reclamation, and restore production. The advance into Qing Province to the east and Xu Province to the southeast would likely have to wait until after the autumn harvest.

This meant that for nearly half a year, there would be no more large-scale military action in the east, so Diwu Lun set out westward with his personal guard and his two "spoils of war," Wang Mang and Fan Chong.

At the same time, Xu Xuan, leading tens of thousands of Red Eyebrow remnants and pursued by the Wei army, had abandoned Suiyang in Liang Commandery and advanced eastward to the Feng and Pei region, Liu Bang's homeland, preparing to join forces with the Red Eyebrows in Xu Province.

In the past, the Red Eyebrow Army had won battle after battle, allowing its strength to snowball; now, with a single defeat and their backbone Fan Chong captured, their spine snapped at once, and they began to splinter. Xu Xuan's force actually shrank the further they marched — many Red Eyebrow soldiers, unwilling to remain roving bandits, often settled in various counties, seized hills as outlaws, and completely abandoned their ideals.

When they reached Feng County and counted heads, more than half had fled.

Feng County was equally desolate. Let alone common folk, even the powerful families were few and far between. After storming a fortified manor, they found its inhabitants emaciated and weak; torture yielded no grain. The Red Eyebrow Army could only dig wild vegetables and strip bark to survive. Incidents of cannibalism occurred from time to time and simply could not be stopped.

Seeing his soldiers slumping and swaying, utterly drained of their former spirit, Xu Xuan grew frantic — if Diwu Lun sent cavalry in pursuit now, a thousand riders could rout ten thousand men!

Fortunately, while they were resting here, the messenger sent east returned with tremendous news!

"A few days ago, the Three Excellencies Feng An fought Liu Xiu, the King of Wu, at Pengcheng. The Red Eyebrows won a great victory and chased the enemy a hundred li!"

This greatly heartened Xu Xuan. The Three Excellencies Feng An was indeed the man in the Red Eyebrow Army second only to Fan Chong in fighting ability. If this were true, the Red Eyebrow remnants could still gain a firm foothold between the Huai and Si rivers. Rice gruel might not suit their palates, but it was a hundred times better than devouring one another to extinction!

That was not all. When Xu Xuan finally persuaded the men to march east and reached Pei County, he heard even more astonishing rumors.

"It is said that even Liu Xiu himself has been slain by Excellency Feng!"