Chapter 531: Setting the Family in Order

The process of breaking through his defenses was agonizing. When Wang Mang was being cursed in unison by the people of Chang'an, though he consoled himself that Diwu Lun had planted the crowd, he still felt such extraordinary shame and humiliation that he even thought of death…

Dying now would still be a martyrdom for his cause, and it would spare him the final disgrace — it might even shatter Diwu Lun's scheme and expose his hypocrisy.

But in the end, Wang Mang could not bring himself to do it. The thought of suicide had lingered in his mind ever since he first entered Diwu Lun's military camp, but Diwu Lun had anticipated it then and made a pact with him.

"As you requested, Elder Wang, I have pardoned Fan Chong and the Red Eyebrow prisoners from execution. But you must agree to one thing."

"Stay alive. Do not take your own life."

At the time, Wang Mang had sneered and dismissed it: "If I were to end myself, would that not spare you the name of a regicide?"

Beyond this verbal pact, Wang Mang had endured and clung to life for another reason: on this journey west, he would be able to see the two people he most wished to meet.

Liu Xin was one. Though their meeting was far from cordial, it brought a measure of closure to the lifelong bond and grievances between these old friends. The other was his sole surviving descendant — his daughter, Wang Yan.

There were few people for whom Wang Mang felt genuine guilt, and his eldest daughter was one of them. When he learned that she was still safe and had neither perished nor suffered disgrace in the chaos, Wang Mang secretly breathed a sigh of relief. But when Diwu Lun stated plainly that he would arrange for Wang Yan to meet him, the old father's heart was instantly thrown into turmoil.

Diwu Lun had lodged Wang Mang in the former Han office of the Grand Herald, also known as the "Crown Prince's Palace" — the very place Wang Mang had once used to confine the child Liu Ying, the Young Prince. Perhaps driven by a guilty conscience, Wang Mang had deliberately assigned the matter of the former Crown Prince's upbringing to the ruthless Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, Chen Chong.

As a result, Chen Chong ordered that the slaves and nursemaids serving there were forbidden to speak to the Young Prince or allow him a single step beyond the palace walls. Over more than a decade, the Young Prince had largely lost the power of speech, reduced to a giant infant who could only bawl incoherently at everything. It was said that only years of patient instruction from old Liu Xin in Longyou had raised the Young Prince's intelligence to the level of an eight-year-old child.

Now the tables had turned. From the moment Wang Mang entered, the servants in the palace did not address a single word to him and even denied him books to read, leaving the old man utterly agitated and distraught.

His sole communication with the outside world was through the Attendant Gentleman Zhu Di. When Zhu Di came to tell him that Wang Yan would arrive the next day, Wang Mang lay sleepless the entire night.

The next morning, the man who had neglected his appearance the whole journey did something unprecedented: he combed his hair, tidied his stark white beard, and even agonized over whether to stand or sit when his daughter entered.

In the end, after leaning against the door and gazing out for a while, when Wang Yan truly arrived, Wang Mang retreated back to his couch, assuming an air of utter indifference — yet his eyes kept darting toward the doorway. He saw a woman in plain, unadorned clothes and light makeup walk slowly in.

"She still loves wearing plain clothes so much."

So thought Wang Mang, but he noticed that Wang Yan's bearing was not as dignified as it once was. She approached and bowed to him.

"Father."

This stirred Wang Mang's heart. Looking at his daughter, he could scarcely believe she was already past thirty; she still seemed a young woman barely in her twenties. Only the long-habitual furrow of her brow made her appear full of care and worry.

Though Wang Mang had many sons and daughters, Wang Yan was perhaps the only one in whom he had truly invested his emotions. Back then, he had still wholeheartedly aspired to be a loyal minister of the Great Han, intending only to preserve the Wang clan's status as imperial in-laws for future security. And so he had personally raised Wang Yan from childhood by the standards of a Han empress. He had no patience to manage his sons, yet every day he would tell her stories from the Biographies of Exemplary Women, hoping she would possess not only a graceful bearing but also broad learning, outstanding insight, and a character of rare integrity and principle.

She set down the food box she had carried in her own hands, opened it, and brought out a bowl of congee that still held a trace of warmth.

"I heard that Father often eats only one meal every two days. This is abalone congee I made. I remember that in the past, when Father was too troubled by the realm's affairs to eat, he would use this to stave off hunger."

Yet even congee made by his own daughter had to be inspected by the imperial physician and the officials guarding Wang Mang. Without any room for argument, they took it away — most likely to let the specially kept food-tasting dogs try it first…

"Preposterous." This infuriated Wang Mang, who saw it as a deliberate slight orchestrated by Diwu Lun.

"Could my own daughter mean to poison me?"

Old Wang Mang had meant it as a joke, but Wang Yan did not laugh. The gaze she fixed on him held no warmth at all. And the words that followed plunged Wang Mang into an abyss of ice.

"Today, Daughter has come not only to see Father, but also to serve as one of the witnesses — to denounce Father's evil deeds."

Wang Mang's face instantly fell. "Diwu Lun has not only duped the people of Chang'an and all under Heaven — now he coerces even you? Diwu is a beast in human form!"

But Wang Yan replied, "This has nothing to do with the Wei Emperor. Daughter will not speak of the great affairs of the realm, only of family matters."

"There are words Daughter wishes to speak on behalf of those who have long departed this world and can no longer question Father — for the Grand Empress Dowager, for Mother, for all my brothers. I will speak them now!"

Wang Yan said: "Eighteen years ago, in the ninth month of the third year of Jushe, our grandmother, the Lady of Manifest Merit of the Qu clan, passed away. By the filial piety Father so championed, you should have observed three years of mourning. But at that time, Father was already Acting Emperor — the son was sovereign, the mother was subject. How was this rite to be performed? In the end, it was Liu Zijun who scoured the classical texts and determined that since Father, as Acting Emperor, had ascended the throne and succeeded the main line of the Han, you could only observe the mourning rites prescribed for the Son of Heaven mourning a feudal lord: wearing the coarsest mourning garb and keeping vigil for a mere three days."

"The Lady of Manifest Merit raised Father alone. Though she enjoyed wealth and honor in her final decade and more, how did Father's action differ from severing the bond between mother and son?"

Wang Yan's impression of her grandmother was vivid. Although the Wang Mang branch of the family were imperial in-laws, theirs was by far the least successful line. The Lady of Manifest Merit was a shrewish woman fond of drink, but she had been exceptionally devoted to her son's upbringing. She was deeply satisfied with Wang Mang and often praised his filial piety in front of Wang Yan, telling the siblings to learn from their father. She could never have imagined that in the end, for the sake of his own political ambitions, Wang Mang would stage such a "grand spectacle of filial piety"!

This had once been one of the knots in Wang Mang's heart that kept him tossing and turning at night. Between power and filial piety, he had chosen the former, and he offered no rebuttal now.

Wang Yan continued: "Even if that matter could be glossed over with ancient rites, later, Father served the Grand Empress Dowager as a son would — yet then seized the imperial jade seal from her hands."

She had entered the palace as a child, cut off from the outside world. Fortunately, within the palace there remained Wang Zhengjun, the old matriarch of the Wang clan. From her youth to young adulthood, Wang Yan had largely been raised by her. Yet that day — the crisp sound of Wang Zhengjun lifting the Imperial Heirloom Seal and dashing it heavily to the ground — was something Wang Yan would never forget as long as she lived!

These were things Wang Yan had not dared to speak of before, but today she could pour them all out:

"After Father supplanted the Han, the Grand Empress Dowager wished only to live out her days as an old widow of the Han, taking each day as it came. But Father would not leave her in peace. You forcibly abolished her Han honorific and bestowed upon her the title of the Xin Dynasty's Mother of Civilizing Culture, the Empress Dowager. You then tore down the temple of Emperor Yuan of Han and built a new Palace of Longevity for the Grand Empress Dowager to dwell in. The poor old Empress Dowager, upon learning that her residence was built atop her late husband's temple, wept bitterly."

"When the Grand Empress Dowager passed, she left a testament wishing to be buried as a Han empress dowager, interred together with Emperor Yuan of Han in the Wei Mausoleum. Father outwardly complied but inwardly defied her. You had a trench dug between the tombs, separating the Grand Empress Dowager from Emperor Yuan, so that even in the Yellow Springs below they could not meet. How utterly cold-hearted!"

Suffering at the sight of one's own kind — this matter struck the Empress Dowager Xiaoping, Wang Yan, with piercing sorrow. Today, at last, she could properly denounce Wang Mang on behalf of the old Grand Empress Dowager Wang Zhengjun.

"These two deeds alone mark you as unfilial as a son!"

Wang Mang's figure seemed to sway. Just at that moment, Zhu Di came in carrying the bowl of abalone congee, declared it safe to eat, and had even reheated it.

Wang Yan broke off her outpouring. She took the bowl and sat down beside Wang Mang. Scooping the congee with a spoon, she gently blew on it with her vermilion lips and lifted it toward Wang Mang's mouth.

Wang Mang pressed his lips together, glanced at his daughter, then at the congee. In the past, being so harshly criticized by his own daughter would have sent Wang Mang into a towering rage, and he would have smashed the bowl to the ground. But today, he simply and meekly took a bite.

"Excellent flavor. Better than anything the imperial chefs made."

At these words, it suddenly dawned on Wang Mang: before he supplanted the Han, every time he entered the palace, his daughter would personally go to the kitchens to cook. But from the moment he ascended the imperial throne, he had never again been treated to that.

So close to him now, Wang Yan also noticed that not a single black strand remained in Wang Mang's beard, hair, or brows. He was far thinner than when he had been emperor. These years of exile and wandering must have brought him much suffering.

Blood is, after all, thicker than water. Her eyes instantly reddened. But after feeding Wang Mang the congee, Wang Yan steeled herself once more and began a new round of denunciation.

"I once had four full brothers, yet every one of them perished by Father's hand!"

"My second elder brother, Wang Huo, accidentally beat a slave to death. Father insisted he pay with his life — that, at least, could be called a deserved death. Daughter believed Father's words then, thinking Father was utterly impartial, placing the state before family."

"My eldest brother, Wang Yu, felt that if Father continued on that course, it might bring ruin upon the Wang clan. So he arranged for someone to splash dog's blood before our gate to warn Father. When the matter was exposed, Father, heedless of kinship, ordered Eldest Brother to take his own life. Eldest Sister-in-law was nine months pregnant; she was kept in prison until she gave birth, then immediately executed. From that moment on, Daughter no longer recognized her own father."

"And the death of my fourth brother, Wang Lin, is something Daughter still cannot fathom. Even if Father felt Fourth Brother was unfit to inherit the throne, you could have simply deposed him. Why force him to kill himself? I heard that Fourth Brother refused to take poison and insisted on using a dagger — precisely so he would leave his blood behind!"

Only then did Wang Yan understand: there was no such thing as selfless devotion to the public good. Her father was simply a man of ultimate selfishness. For the sake of the ideals in his mind, anyone who stood in his way or threatened his power — whether friend or blood kin — would be eliminated, one by one.

That outward sanctimony was a performance for all the world to see. Only those closest to him could glimpse the absurdity and wretchedness hidden beneath.

"And finally, my third brother, Wang An. He suffered from a mental affliction from childhood and remained simple-minded as an adult. Though he was not killed by Father's decree, he nonetheless fell to his death from a tower, driven by terror after all his brothers had met their ends…"

Thinking of her third brother, the one closest to her, Wang Yan could not stop the tears from streaking down her cheeks and soaking the front of her robe.

"When a son is not taught, it is the father's fault. By these acts, Father has proven himself unkind as a father!"

Within this denunciation lay her own fury as well. Wang Mang had meticulously cultivated Wang Yan, earnestly instructing her, hoping she would become the mother of the nation. As a child, her father's image had been towering — a great and loyal minister wholly devoted to the state. Wang Yan had held herself to that same standard. When rumors spread outside that Wang Mang intended to usurp the throne, she refused to believe it, no matter what.

It was not until Wang Mang, cradling the Young Prince in his arms, completed the rite of supplanting the Han and stood upon the abdication platform wearing a smile of satisfaction, that Wang Yan awoke as if from a dream.

So it turned out that she, too, was merely a tool for her father's ambitions! When the Xin Dynasty replaced the Han, she, the Empress Dowager Xiaoping, was undoubtedly the most awkward person under Heaven.

Wang Mang's image crumbled. Those tales of benevolence, filial piety, loyalty, and trustworthiness they had taught her since childhood turned utterly into lies. From then on, Wang Yan shut herself away in the palace chambers, until the great edifice toppled once more.

"And then there is Mother."

Wang Yan could no longer hide the sob in her voice. "Mother followed Father for decades, bore four sons and one daughter, yet had to watch with her own eyes as each child died, until at last she wept herself blind and passed away with bitterness in her heart. This is a husband failing in his duty!"

Had her father sacrificed the whole family but governed the realm with skill, it might have been forgivable — but what was the result?

The white-haired, decrepit old man before her was a failure, a double failure in both family and career!

Every word struck Wang Mang in the heart. Confucianism is a philosophy of engagement with the world; to become a sage, one must walk step by step through self-cultivation, ordering the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to all under heaven.

To bring peace to the realm — this was Wang Mang's greatest wish. Every choice he made, whether serving the Han, replacing the Han, or even aiding the Red Eyebrows' Fan Chong, was founded upon this.

But after Diwu Lun captured Wang Mang, he used the facts of the entire westward journey to tell Wang Mang: you were incompetent at governing, and you threw the realm into chaos.

And now, he was rebuked by his own daughter for failing to order his family...

The psychological defenses with which he had deceived himself were stripped away one by one. Old Wang Mang broke down once more.

What was left? Self-cultivation? Now, in the face of denunciation, the fury of millions of commoners, and Diwu Lun's mockery, could he still use morality as his shield and stand upon the high ground?

For the first time, Wang Mang did not use the royal "We," but only stammered, "Yes. My life can truly be called: a ruler no ruler, a subject no subject, a father no father, a son no son!"

"Though I have grain, shall I ever get to eat it?"

With these words, Wang Mang's old tears streamed down. He reached to claw at his own throat, as though the abalone congee his daughter had made was a blessing he did not deserve to receive and must vomit out.

Wang Yan stood beside him, watching her father's wretched state through tears, and did not stop him. Only when Wang Mang retched did she reach out and gently pat his back.

"There is one more matter."

When Wang Mang's agonizing dry heaves ended, Wang Yan rose to her feet and said coldly, "The Wei Emperor wishes to make me one of the Two Princes and Three Esteemed Guests, to carry on the ancestral temple of the Xin."

The so-called Two Princes and Three Esteemed Guests was an old Huaxia tradition: the monarch of a new dynasty would grant noble titles to the descendants of the preceding dynasty and the one before that, to demonstrate that "one may destroy another's state, but not cut off their ancestral rites."

Since Diwu Lun intended to recognize the Xin Dynasty as legitimate, it should stand alongside the Han Dynasty's descendants, with someone to carry on the incense and fire. Making a woman one of the Two Princes and Three Esteemed Guests had no precedent, but so long as Diwu Lun was pleased, the ministers would not dare object.

If Wang Yan accepted, her awkward status as both Han Empress Dowager and Xin Dynasty Princess could be perfectly resolved. As one of the Two Princes and Three Esteemed Guests, she would not be Diwu Lun's subject, but an honored guest.

Wang Mang raised his head. If this could truly come to pass, it would be a great good deed done by Diwu Lun. He knew his daughter well — she carried a fierce, unyielding spirit in her bones.

Yet Wang Yan said, "But your daughter has already refused."

She drew back her sleeves, as though to distance herself from the fallen Xin. "I hate the Xin!" She spoke the knot that had been hidden in her heart for many years. "Father's enterprise destroyed my family and took my kin. Mother and brothers all died. How could I serve as the descendant of the Two Princes and continue its incense and fire?"

With these words, today's meeting drew to a close. Wang Yan paced toward the door, leaving behind a Wang Mang filled with utter despair.

But just before stepping over the threshold, she turned her head once more.

She could sever ties with the Xin cleanly and decisively, but toward Wang Mang, she could not do the same. In this one meeting today, she felt reverence, hatred, and pity all at once.

Reverence for his devoted teaching in her early years — perhaps those moments of patience and laughter were not entirely manipulation. Hatred for his cruelty and heartlessness, and pity for the misery of a man who had lost everything.

After all, he was now her only blood kin left in the world.

"But should Father pass away..."

Wang Yan said, "I shall, as a daughter, collect Father's body, build a hut, and keep vigil at the grave, until we meet again in the Yellow Springs."

Wang Mang stared blankly at his daughter. Bathed in the evening sunlight, Wang Yan, through her tears, gave him a gentle smile.

This was the only time today that Wang Yan showed her father a smile.

Just as on that day many years ago, when she was dressed up splendidly, about to enter the palace to be wed, and with mature understanding she had forced down her reluctance, lifted her head, and feigned grown-up composure to show her old father a smiling face.

"Your daughter will surely follow Father's teachings!"

The door slowly closed, and Wang Yan's graceful figure vanished from sight. A failed son, a failed husband, a failed father — Wang Mang sat there numbly for a long, long time. After a great while, he did something unprecedented: he covered his face and wept.

When Zhu Di reported the meeting between Wang Mang and his daughter back to Diwu Lun, the Wei Emperor merely sighed.

"Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

But now a new problem arose. Since Wang Yan refused to serve as one of the Two Princes and Three Esteemed Guests, who should take her place? It must be known that the Wang family had largely died off in the chaos of these times.

Though it was a pity he could not resolve Wang Yan's awkward status, since her resolve was firm, Diwu Lun did not wish to force the matter. He simply named someone offhand.

"Let it be the family of the late Governor of Dong Commandery, Wang Hong."

That Wang Hong had also met a tragic fate. After Puyang fell to the Red Eyebrows, he became the only high-ranking Wei official to be captured by the bandits, and was only rescued later. This man also had an old connection with Diwu Lun. Having defended Dong Commandery for several years, if he had no great achievements, he had at least endured great hardships, and he was a member of the Wang family. Diwu Lun decided to simply grant his family generations of wealth and rank.

However, Diwu Lun's main focus at present was on another matter.

The Grand Preceptor Zhang Zhan, who oversaw education, and the Superintendent of Ceremonies Wang Long came to see Diwu Lun at nightfall.

"Your Majesty, because of the campaign to suppress the Red Eyebrows, our dynasty's second civil service examination was postponed from spring into summer. Now that Your Majesty has set the date for the first day of the fifth month, scholars from the various commanderies and counties are arriving in the capital one after another. The examination questions have, according to established precedent, been deliberated and set by the Erudites of the Six Classics and the Grand Historian. Only the topic for the policy essay still awaits Your Majesty's decision."

Diwu Lun had actually decided long ago, and now he revealed the answer.

"In the last examination, the policy essay was 'The Han's Mandate Is Exhausted.'"

"After the Han, it is the Xin's turn!"

"Jia Yi of the Han wrote 'The Faults of Qin,' summarizing the lessons of the Qin Dynasty's rise and fall..."

Diwu Lun smiled. "Since the Xin Dynasty lasted as briefly as the Qin, and since we have recently ordered the realm to debate Wang Mang's crimes and publicly vote on his life or death, why not have the scholars compose an essay — 'The Faults of Xin'? What do you think?"

Hiss...

Hearing this, Zhang Zhan and Wang Long both drew a sharp breath. What a 'Faults of Xin' indeed!

To kill a man, and then to slay his very soul?