Chapter 54: Evening Drums

Ma Yuan was already in his late thirties, yet he still had not taken a wife — only two concubines who could not be presented in the main hall, each having borne him a daughter and a son.

That five-year-old boy, Ma Liao, was his eldest son. The boy had been brought along by his elder sister today, in truth, to avoid any appearance of impropriety.

Since in this age a woman could not lightly give her own name to a stranger, for now let us call her "a certain Ma maiden who prefers to remain unnamed."

The Ma clan of Maoling had excellent family discipline. Even though Ma Yuan had barely been home for over a decade, and even though she was only a daughter of a concubine, she observed every propriety: sitting upright with the tops of her feet flat to the ground, both hands placed upon her knees, her body slightly inclined, she spoke looking only at Diwu Lun's knees, avoiding eye contact with him.

This is called "shared sitting" — the posture used when facing an honored person or an elder.

After all, in the imaginations of the common folk of Chang'an, Diwu Lun's bond with Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu lacked only a sworn brotherhood oath like that of Liu Bang and Xiang Yu. The Ma maiden had likely heard similar tales and automatically cast herself in the role of eldest niece, though she was only three years younger than Diwu Lun.

"With two uncles lending their aid, the office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties did not make trouble for our family. Yet I have heard that you, Palace Gentleman Diwu, were also implicated and imprisoned on my father's account."

The Ma maiden offered apologies to Diwu Lun on her father's behalf, but she had clearly not come solely for that. As expected, she could not hold back: "May I venture to ask, Palace Gentleman Diwu, why exactly my father released those prisoners that day?"

Because Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu hit it off splendidly, of course.

Diwu Lun gave a brief account of what had happened, his words not stinting on praise for Ma Yuan's sense of honor. The Ma maiden listened in silence, her expression somewhat complicated.

One moment it held pride in her father's valuing of loyalty and daring to act; the next, resentment that he would abandon his family for a stranger.

At last she pressed him: "Did my father leave any word of where he was going?"

The family had come to his door to ask "where has Papa gone?" — the children could hardly be expected to report Ma Yuan. Diwu Lun said, "When Wenyuan departed, he said he and Wan Xiu were heading to Yandi Commandery (Beidi Commandery) to await a general amnesty."

Beidi was the region of later-era Gansu and Ningxia, close to the Xiongnu — an area where the court's power was weak, a perfect land beyond the law.

The Ma maiden glanced at her younger brother and gave a bitter smile. "Palace Gentleman Diwu indeed knows; we, on the contrary, did not... Yandi Commandery is vast — did he say which county specifically?"

The Ma clan was large, yet Ma Yuan's own branch had only her, the eldest daughter, to hold it up. It truly was not easy. Diwu Lun could only forcibly smooth things over for Ma Yuan: "Perhaps he has not yet settled down. In time, he will surely send a letter back."

The Ma maiden sighed inwardly and only said, "If word of my father does come, I hope Palace Gentleman Diwu will be willing to inform me."

With that, she took her younger brother by the hand, and together they performed the hand-to-ground bow. Then they took their leave and went out. Their walking posture, too, had its refinements: they moved gracefully through the residence. After boarding the enclosed carriage, she again bowed her head to Diwu Lun in salute, then departed Xuanming Ward.

Diwu Lun saw them out his gate but stood in place watching for a long while. Only after both the carriage and the graceful figure had vanished did he sigh: "Ma Wenyuan and I are friends who have shared hardship, as close as brothers. He is a fugitive roaming the rivers and lakes — I ought to look after his children a little. Wufu."

"Yes."

"When we return to Diwu Hamlet in a few days, make sure to tell your father to prepare the finest produce of the estate and send it to the Ma clan residence in Maoling."

Just then, they heard the evening drums boom out.

The gate-closing drums of Chang'an city sounded six hundred strokes in all; once they finished, the whole city was under curfew. Reckoning the time, the Ma maiden and her younger brother should be able to make it back to the residence of the Colonel of the Central Encampment in time.

Diwu Lun frowned and looked up at the sky, which was still quite bright. "Is it my imagination? Or is the ice and snow reflecting the sky brighter — today's evening drums seem much earlier than usual!"

Thud, thud, thud. When the evening drums sounded, Liu Xin in the State Preceptor's residence had only just set down his counting rods.

Faced with that string of mysterious numbers Diwu Lun had left behind, Liu Xin's first reaction had been a snort of contempt: "I have long known Yang Ziyun — his strength lies in rhapsodies and literary composition. Huan Junshan appraised him as 'profound in literary meaning, his arguments no aberration from the sages,' but in the field of numbers and arts, Yang Xiong has achieved nothing."

Liu Xin, by contrast, was a polymath: the Six Arts and their commentaries, the various masters, poetry and rhapsody, numbers and arts, medicine and technique — there was nothing he had not exhaustively studied.

So these numbers were most likely something Diwu Lun had made up.

But when Liu Xin casually plugged them into a calculation for a problem where he had been stuck due to an imprecise circular constant, the difficulty was uncannily resolved.

Liu Xin was quite astonished. Diwu Lun could not possibly have guessed correctly by sheer luck, could he?

Liu Xin possessed a streak of obsession in his scholarship. In his youth, he had repeatedly challenged his father Liu Xiang with difficult questions. When he was still obscure and his words carried little weight, he had boldly sent a letter rebuking the Erudites of the Imperial Academy. Famous Confucian dignitaries — Gong Sheng, Shi Dan, and their ilk — were all roundly blasted by Liu Xin. Yet when it came to actually debating the Five Classics, none of them could best this young man. The great scholars could only use their official authority to suppress Liu Xin politically and repress the Old Text classics.

Years later, Liu Xin had ridden Wang Mang's support back into the court, transforming overnight into an academic tyrant whose word was law. No one dared oppose him anymore.

Now, to be bested in the circular constant by a mere youth — Liu Xin was quite unwilling to accept it.

Liu Xin's method for calculating the circular constant relied on the technique of cutting the circle, which originated from watching stonemasons work stone in his youth. A square block of stone, after the craftsman chiseled away the four corners, became an octagon. Chisel away the eight corners, and it became a hexadecagon.

Chop by chop, the square thus became round.

"This is what Sima Qian spoke of: 'Break the angular to make the circular!'"

And so Liu Xin adopted this method, using a polygon circumscribed outside the circle to approach a perfect circle — which differed from later generations, who cut from inside the circle.

In theory, the finer the cutting, the more the calculations, the smaller the error, and the more precise the circular constant one could obtain.

Now, having been slapped in the face by Diwu Lun's number, Liu Xin wanted to prove himself and could only cut further still, beyond the point where further cutting seemed impossible.

The sides outside the circle grew more and more numerous, and the calculations grew more and more complex and difficult.

Liu Xin recalled that his old rival Yang Xiong had once described the hardship of composing a rhapsody, saying that when he wrote the "Sweet Springs Rhapsody," his thoughts were so exquisitely tortured, brooding day and night, that he collapsed from utter exhaustion.

In a dazed and trance-like sleep, Yang Xiong discovered that all his internal organs had spilled out. He hurriedly scooped them up with his hands and carefully placed them back. When he awoke from the nightmare, he found his vital energy truly damaged, as though he had been gravely ill for a year.

Liu Xin's circle-cutting was no better. His thoughts were exquisitely tortured; he thought of it while eating and sleeping. The first thing he did upon waking was pick up his counting rods. The work moved from outdoors to indoors — no one was permitted to set foot in the room; such precise calculation tolerated no disturbance whatsoever.

Until today, after exhausting his mental strength, Liu Xin found he still could not achieve exact precision. Yet the more he calculated, the closer his new results pressed toward Diwu Lun's "3.1415926."

Cut for a few more years, reach a polygon of several thousand sides, and perhaps he could match it.

But Liu Xin was utterly spent. Tomorrow was the first day of the sixth year of Tianfeng, and as State Preceptor, he still had to don court robes and cap and enter the Shoucheng Hall to pay respects to the Emperor.

After recording his results on bamboo slips, Liu Xin went outside and sat beneath a peach tree, closing his eyes to rest. In his mind he still wondered: "How on earth did Diwu Lun calculate it? Could he have borrowed the power of spirits and immortals?"

When he was startled awake, he too heard the sound of the evening drums. Opening his eyes to gauge the sky, Liu Xin had no need of a water clock to know: today's gate-closing drums were a full two ke earlier than usual!

"Uncle, Chen Chong, the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, has brought troops to Shangguan Hamlet!"

His nephew Liu Gong came rushing in to report, his face full of astonishment at what was happening outside. Liu Xin, however, seemed to know already and was not the least bit flustered.

"So it is today, then."

"His Majesty no longer intends to let Wang Zong live past the new year!"

This was the fifth day since Diba Jiao had taken up his post as "Palace Steward to the Duke of Chonggong."

The Palace Steward's chief duty was to serve as outrider when the duke traveled. But within the residence, Wang Zong, having heard that Diba Jiao's family transmitted the Han tradition of the Odes and that he had also studied the Book of Documents, made him a companion in study.

Diba Jiao was thus able to have close contact with Wang Zong, and he discovered that the Duke of Chonggong's hobbies were quite particular: he liked to paint, and he liked seal carving.

One day, when they came to the line "Lofty achievements lie only in the will; broad endeavors lie only in diligence" from the "Book of Zhou" in the Book of Documents, Wang Zong sighed deeply and unburdened his heart to Diba Jiao.

"This is the origin of my title. The sages of old were able to accomplish great deeds because they possessed great aspirations. As a grandson of the Emperor, I too hold the realm and the altars of state in my heart. I only hope to become a noble man like Prince Wuji of Wei, so that all the scholars of the world will strive to flock to me, bringing three thousand retainers to my gate, that I may assist the Son of Heaven and bring lasting peace and order to the Xin."

Diba Jiao was moved by Wang Zong's aspirations. When Wang Zong asked him, "Among the students at the Imperial Academy, which are the worthy and capable ones?" Diba Jiao answered everything he knew without reserve.

He had even promised that once spring came, he would help Wang Zong recruit men like Liu Xiu and Liu Long to meet him, and assist the Duke of Gongchong in guarding the rivers and mountains of the Great Xin.

Until today — when the dream he had only just begun to build these past few days shattered completely.

Because it was the last day of the old calendar, at noon the Duke of Gongchong, Wang Zong, dressed in full ceremonial robes, entered the Shoucheng Hall to pay his New Year respects to Wang Mang. The mansion was also busy preparing for the next day's New Year celebrations.

After the evening drum sounded, soldiers from the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties suddenly appeared at the door. The man leading them, the Marquis of Tongmu, Chen Chong, still wore a smiling face — but the words he spoke struck Diba Jiao like five thunderbolts to the head.

"By His Majesty's decree: Wang Zong, Duke of Gongchong, is by lineage an imperial grandson and by rank a high duke. Knowing that Lü Kuan and his ilk were a rebellious clan banished to Hepu, he yet maintained contact with them, corresponding in secret."

"Furthermore, a maidservant of the household has secretly reported to the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, stating that the Duke of Gongchong plotted seditious acts within his mansion and committed acts of presumption."

"Now the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, bearing the decree, enters the mansion to conduct a thorough search. Those who obstruct it shall be executed!"

Behind Chen Chong stood armored guards bearing swords. Diba Jiao could only step aside and watch, stunned, as they turned the Duke of Gongchong's mansion upside down.

There was indeed a traitor within the household — it was none other than that maidservant who, bare-legged, had knelt shivering in the wind holding up the silk painting that day. Under her guidance, Chen Chong wasted little effort in unearthing a number of seals and letters.

He had the household steward and Diba Jiao brought over to identify them. After reading the inscriptions on the gold seals, Chen Chong declared that they contained veiled words of presumption.

The steward and the others were paralyzed with terror, but Diba Jiao gritted his teeth and said, "These are nothing but ordinary personal seals, inscribed with auspicious phrases. How can you speak of presumption and treasonous plots?"

Take that phrase, "Crown of blessings, preserve oneself in summer, dwell in the southern mountain, tread on thin ice" — it is just like the "Establish bright virtue, sons a thousand million, preserve ten thousand years, rule without limit" found in the homes of ordinary officials. They are all words of prayer for good fortune. Otherwise, why would Wang Zong have left these three seals lying about so carelessly?

Chen Chong, however, had his own interpretation. Shaking his head, he parsed the phrase differently: "The first line: 'Crown of blessings, preserve oneself.' What does it mean? 'Blessings' refers to the imperial fortune. 'Crown, preserve oneself' means to usurp and replace. To place the crown upon oneself — that is to say, Wang Zong wishes to seize the throne!"

"As for the second line, 'In summer dwell in the southern mountain, tread on thin ice' — it seems ordinary, but in truth it is even more venomous!"

Chen Chong had also been schooled in the Five Classics and was a close friend of the great literary scholar Zhang Song. He could quote the classics with ease: "In the Lesser Odes, there is the 'Saving the Southern Mountain' section, which satirizes Heaven sending famine, pestilence, unrest in all quarters, and the state being brought to utter ruin. And the fifth poem of that same section, 'Lesser Lament,' satirizes the King of Zhou's fatuousness, which drove worthy ministers to the fear of treading on thin ice beside an abyss."

The second seal, "Reverently succeed to the sacred treasure," was even easier to explain: "His Majesty, inheriting from the sage Shun, was able to be reverent and respectful, and thus obtained the divine tortoise to establish his rule. Wang Zong wishes to continue that line."

The third seal read, "By virtue enfeoffed, a flourishing map." Chen Chong laughed: "This is Wang Zong declaring that he wishes to be enfeoffed for his virtue, and that he shall then prosper and flourish, receiving the maps and registers of all under Heaven."

"In all these instances, the meaning of the text is deeply pernicious! Deeply pernicious indeed!"

Diba Jiao was utterly stunned, unable to offer any rebuttal.

As for the letters, they were correspondence between Wang Zong and his maternal uncle Lü Kuan's family, who had been banished to Hepu — the other half of the letters, Chen Chong had long since intercepted at Hepu, and he had held back until this very day to launch this great judicial inquisition.

Though the letters contained nothing but ordinary family talk, for Chen Chong, the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties, give him six columns of text written by the most honest and simple man in the world, and he could certainly find sufficient grounds within them to convict him of the crime of high treason!

And the most damning evidence came from a secret chamber that even the informant maidservant did not know about — from within it, they retrieved a self-portrait of Wang Zong.

In the painting, the Duke of Gongchong, Wang Zong, wore the robes of the Son of Heaven and the crown of the Emperor — how magnificent he looked!

With this, the evidence was conclusive. Coupled with the foolish words Wang Zong had spoken to Wang Mang that day in the Shoucheng Hall, his crimes no longer even required a trial.

The only question Chen Chong needed to consider was: how far should the scope of this case extend, and how many people should be implicated and executed?

A hundred? Or a thousand?

His duty was to sniff out and root out traitors for His Majesty the Emperor, but beyond the principal offenders, Chen Chong was also quite happy to conveniently eliminate a few people who made trouble for the Office of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties.

For instance, the leaders of the Imperial Academy students whose names he had noted down that day in the marketplace, and the chief culprit who had incited the Palace Gentlemen and Imperial Academy students to besiege the Office of the Master of Fates, forcing them to overturn the case and lose all face…

"Diwu Lun."

…

PS: Begging for recommendation tickets. Also, if you don't see the second chapter by 8 o'clock, it means the automatic update got stuck again. Wait for the author to wake up and post it manually — standard procedure, don't panic.