Chapter 56: The Sixth Year of Tianfeng

By the new calendar, when the twelfth month arrived, it was already the sixth year of Tianfeng (AD 19). The heavy snow that had blanketed Chang'an days ago still lingered, refusing to melt, just like the dying ripples of this political purge, which had yet to settle.

Diwu Lun had narrowly dodged the thunderbolt — though, given Chen Chong's methods, if he had been truly determined to seize him, a mere painting of pears on silk would have sufficed to fabricate a charge.

But since State Preceptor Liu Xin had intervened, the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties could only let the matter drop for now. Moreover, in recent days, thanks to the charcoal sellers spreading the word, all of Chang'an knew that Diwu Lun had once quarreled with Wang Zong and parted on bad terms. Public opinion had reversed; the people of Chang'an now praised Diwu Lun for his keen judgment of character, making the charge far harder to stitch together.

On the third day of the twelfth month, as most of those to be arrested were already in custody, the officers and soldiers of the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties gradually vanished from the streets. Only then did Diwu Lun follow Yang Xiong to the State Preceptor's residence in Shangguan Ward to offer thanks. But Liu Xin merely had Diwu Lun wait in the outer hall and summoned only Yang Xiong inside.

"Wang Zong is dead."

Liu Xin did not deliberately humiliate his old acquaintance this time, using a piece of news to open the conversation: "A cup of poisoned wine — he took his own life in the palace."

Yang Xiong felt a pang of sorrow upon hearing this: "After all, he was His Majesty's own grandson."

Liu Xin merely smiled without speaking. He had put two of his own sons to death with his own hands — what was a grandson, a generation removed? After all these years, did he still not understand how ruthless His Majesty was?

Yang Xiong looked at his old friend and asked curiously: "May I ask, State Preceptor, what crime did Wang Zong actually commit?"

Liu Xin enumerated the charges one by one: "Wang Zong, as an imperial grandson with the rank of Upper Duke, knew that Lü Kuan and his ilk were rebels and traitors, yet he associated and communicated with them."

"He also carved three bronze seals, their inscriptions deeply seditious."

"He personally drew the Son of Heaven's crown and robes, never content, coveting what he should not desire."

Yang Xiong shook his head: "What I mean is, what was the real reason that made His Majesty investigate and prosecute Wang Zong?"

Liu Xin glanced sideways at Yang Xiong: "Yang Ziyun, who has always prided himself on lofty detachment, now takes an interest in imperial secrets and court politics?"

Yang Xiong leaned on his cane: "After all, we all live in Chang'an. What's more, this affair nearly implicated my disciple."

Liu Xin did not hide it from him: "It all began when Wang Zong entered Shoucheng Hall to offer congratulations to His Majesty. Whether drunk or simply foolish, he actually tried to plead on behalf of the people. He submitted that the reason the people of Jingzhou had turned to banditry was largely due to the restrictions of the Six Monopolies, and that they should be pacified rather than encircled and crushed with heavy troops."

Yang Xiong muttered under his breath: "Duke of Gongchong spoke reasonably."

Liu Xin said: "Fei Xing, the Governor of Jingzhou, submitted a similar memorial and was dismissed from office. Wang Zong further requested to be stationed in the forward commandery as an imperial grandson and Upper Duke, to take charge of the pacification and recruitment efforts in Jingzhou, to return the bandits to their fields, to lend them oxen, seed, and provisions, and to reduce or remit their taxes. He argued this might stabilize the south and relieve His Majesty's burdens."

"But His Majesty, far from being pleased, was exceptionally furious. He believed Wang Zong harbored great ambitions and sought to win hearts and build his own power base. Add to that Chen Chong's earlier accusation that Wang Zong had dealings with the rebel Lü clan — that led to the search of his residence."

The Master of Fates of the Five Majesties was indeed formidable; upon investigation, they actually found evidence to substantiate the charges.

"His Majesty declared, citing the principles of the Spring and Autumn Annals: 'When a subject or son harbors intent against his lord or father, he shall be executed for that intent.' Wang Zong, deluded and having lost the Way, brought this upon himself — alas, what sorrow! He was thus ordered to take his own life in the Lateral Courts."

"Then His Majesty altered Wang Zong's single-character name, ordering him to revert to his childhood two-character name, 'Wang Huizong.'"

"He was also demoted from Duke of Gongchong to Marquis, with the posthumous name 'Miu.'"

"Miu" means name and reality at odds — Wang Mang was utterly repudiating the image of the "Holy Grandson" that Wang Zong had been endowed with all these years.

Those implicated were not limited to the officers and servants of the Duke of Gongchong's residence. Wang Zong's elder sister Wang Fang and her husband, the General of the Guard and Duke of Fengxin, Wang Xing, were both ordered to commit suicide.

It is said that before he died, Wang Xing wept and said: "Today I wished to be a mere gate guard, and even that is denied me."

The Duke of Gongchong's brother-in-law, Kong Ren, the Right Master of Fates, did not escape either. His wife was ordered to take her own life, though Kong Ren himself removed his cap and confessed his guilt. He was merely reprimanded by Wang Mang, who bestowed upon him a new official cap and forbade the censors from impeaching him.

In short, some died, some were arrested. Yesterday's illustrious and powerful were today's prisoners in shackles. The entire faction of the Duke of Gongchong was swept away, and the Crown Prince Wang Lin, who had been secretly competing with him, likely emerged as the biggest winner.

But as the Crown Prince's father-in-law, Liu Xin's face showed not a trace of joy.

Yang Xiong knew his old friend was once again inwardly afraid. With a hint of admonishment in his heart, he sighed and said: "This is how those in power ascend to the blue clouds, while those who lose their way are cast into the ditches. In the morning one wields power as a minister, by evening one is stripped of it and becomes a commoner."

"There you go again." Liu Xin, however, detested this posturing of Yang Xiong's most of all. He sneered: "Yang Ziyun, if you spend your whole life timid and afraid, never rising to the blue clouds, content to stay out of power — can you truly avoid disaster? If so, why is your leg broken? Why was your disciple Diwu Lun implicated twice, only surviving because of me?"

Liu Xin's retort left Yang Xiong speechless. He then sighed and said: "Yang Ziyun, you and I have both served as Gentlemen of the Yellow Gate since the time of Emperor Cheng of the Former Han. We have associated for decades. Do you know what we have in common?"

Yang Xiong lowered his head: "The State Preceptor and I were both once absorbed in scholarship, wishing to revive the Way of the Six Arts."

"No."

Liu Xin pointed at Yang Xiong: "Your ambition and mine — both were to become 'Confucius'!"

Liu Xin knew Yang Xiong too well. This man from Shu, afflicted with a stammer, had always been taciturn and fond of deep, profound thought.

Moreover, because of the political darkness of the previous dynasty, Yang Xiong was not adept at flattery and currying favor. He served through the reigns of Cheng, Ai, and Ping, three reigns without promotion, and he himself never sought advancement.

Only after Wang Mang took power was Yang Xiong transferred to the post of Grandee. At that time, those who submitted mandate omens and presented prognostic charts to seek titles and rewards were everywhere. Yang Xiong did write a piece called "Denouncing Qin and Praising the Xin," and when Wang Zhengjun died, he submitted the "Eulogy for the Cultured Mother of the Xin" as a funeral oration. Beyond that, he truly made no excessively fawning gestures.

In the early days of Shijianguo, Yang Xiong had also been inspired by Wang Mang's New Policies, feeling that the world was about to be transformed and renewed — what Confucian scholar would not be stirred by that? But he was quickly awakened by the brutal reality. Those words of praise and glory, he could no longer utter. He merely read and collated the classics in silence at Tianlu Pavilion, exhausting himself in scholarship, using it to numb himself.

"Yang Ziyun, you appear to do nothing, but in truth, your ambition is immense!"

Others might not see it, but Liu Xin, who had read all of Yang Xiong's works, understood exactly what he was trying to do.

"You wrote the Supreme Mystery, seeking to rival the Book of Changes."

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"You wrote the Model Sayings, wishing it to be transmitted to posterity like the Analects."

"You wrote the Explication of Characters, aiming to become a second Cangjie."

"You composed the Admonitions of the Twelve Provinces, seeking to surpass the ancients' Admonitions of Yu!"

"As for works like 'Contra the Li Sao,' you also sought to measure yourself against Qu Yuan."

Yang Xiong had even pioneered the unprecedented study of regional speech, the Fangyan.

Compared to these scholarly achievements, it was no wonder that in his later years, Yang Xiong regarded the rhapsodies he had once excelled at as mere trifling skills.

"Intent on making his writings renowned in later ages, rivaling the Six Arts — no wonder some have even praised you as the 'Confucius of the Western Way.' Yang Ziyun, you must have been quite pleased with that in your heart, weren't you? The one you wish to emulate is precisely that Confucius who found no success at court and could only compile the Six Classics in his old age!"

Yang Xiong had not expected Liu Xin to see through him so thoroughly. A bit stunned, he could only stammer habitually: "I dare not. Your servant truly cannot compare to the State Preceptor. Thus I remain silent, guarding my Supreme Mystery alone."

"What use is discoursing on mystery?"

Liu Xin looked utterly exasperated, as if lamenting that Yang Xiong failed to make good. He recalled writing to urge Yang Xiong to present the Fangyan to the court, his original intent being to elevate him and help him regain the position of a court Grandee. Yet Yang Xiong, ungrateful, preferred to hide his work away and remain content in poverty and devoted to the Way.

"Today, the Erudites of the Imperial Academy enjoy the emoluments and benefits bestowed by the court, yet they still cannot grasp the true essence of the Changes. Who would then, without regard for profit, painstakingly devote themselves to studying your Mystery?"

"It is precisely because you refuse to seek advancement — look at your situation now! You are exactly like Confucius, squeezed out by the Three Huan clans and forced to flee his home, driven away by Huan Tui, who felled the tree, wandering in terror like a stray dog, then trapped between Chen and Cai, going seven days without food — a truly wretched sight!"

This was not the first time Yang Xiong had been scolded like this by Liu Xin. Back when Liu Xin had visited him and seen a room with nothing but a pile of books and a bed, he could not help but mock him: "If you don't take a step further to pursue fame and rank, but only think of studying, you truly deserve to end up in this state."

Yang Xiong's retort had been to write a piece called "Expelling Poverty," to clarify his own aspirations. The divergence between the two had begun then.

But unlike those years, perhaps because they were old now, Liu Xin's words today carried a trace of deep concern beneath the harsh reproach.

Yang Xiong could not help but raise his head and say: "Zijun knows me. And I — how could I not know Zijun?"

……

Unlike Yang Xiong, who came from a poor background, relied entirely on his own efforts, and only reached Chang'an in middle age, Liu Xin's family scholarship ran deep. He had followed his father in collating books since childhood — no need to bore a hole in the wall to steal light — and in his youth his achievements were dazzling, the most brilliant among the Gentlemen of the Yellow Gate.

His temperament, too, was the opposite of the taciturn Yang Xiong: confident in his own talent, he railed against heaven and earth, scorned the old Confucians who monopolized scholarship, and advocated establishing the Old Text classics in the official curriculum, stirring uproar throughout the court.

Yet no matter how sound Liu Xin's arguments, they could not shake the old Confucians' stubborn parochialism and factional bias. In the end, Liu Xin was expelled from court on the charge of "altering and disrupting the old statutes, slandering what the former emperors established." During Emperor Ai's reign, he was shunted around for years as a commandery official and fell so ill he nearly died.

By the time he returned to Chang'an, the gaunt Liu Xin had changed. He even began to sneer at Yang Xiong for stopping his ears to court politics and burying himself solely in scholarship.

"Growing white-haired poring over the classics, immersing oneself in learning, being a pure Confucian — it is useless."

"Ziyun, I am done being an aloof moralist!"

Liu Xin decisively threw in his lot with the Wang clan of imperial affines — the very people his father Liu Xiang had most bitterly detested — and hitched himself to Wang Mang's coattails. From then on, he soared together with the Duke Who Pacifies the Han, swiftly rising into the ranks of the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers, his scholarly ambitions effortlessly fulfilled.

In return, he became the designer of Wang Mang's ritual and music reforms. Wang Mang's mother's funeral, the marriage of Wang Mang's daughter to Emperor Ping — he poured his heart into planning them all. He even stooped to violating a scholar's bottom line, tampering with the contents of ancient texts, solely to find a basis for Wang Mang's usurpation!

Yang Xiong watched his old friend grow estranged, drunk on power, sliding step by step into the abyss.

"I understand now. Zijun is just like me — we both want to be 'Confucius.' But a Confucius who holds the reins of power, free of all constraints, able to establish rituals and music to his heart's content and restore the governance of Zhou!"

Liu Xin laughed. "Exactly. 'If there were one who would employ me, could I make him an Eastern Zhou?'"

"Even if he were Gongshan Buniu?" Yang Xiong's words carried a pointed meaning.

Liu Xin's expression turned solemn. "'Can one who summons me come with empty purpose?' Even if it were Yang Hu, I would gladly dance with the tiger! What is more, His Majesty is truly the Duke of Zhou reborn."

"Has it been achieved?"

Seeing Liu Xin still obstinately deluded, Yang Xiong leaned on his staff and demanded: "Zijun now holds high office. Every proposal you make, His Majesty approves without fail. But the Zhou governance you desire — has it been achieved?"

Liu Xin, however, answered beside the point, merely saying: "When Confucius participated in state governance for three months, sellers of lambs and suckling pigs did not inflate prices; men and women walked on separate sides of the road; things dropped on the road were not picked up by others; guests arriving from all quarters in the city did not need to seek out officials — all were given what they needed and sent home."

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"It has now been eleven years. These policies of Confucius have been implemented to a fair degree. And with the completion of the Imperial Academy's Three Harmony Halls, these are all remarkable achievements. As for the governance of the Three Dynasties — one day it will be realized."

Yang Xiong did not refute him, only shook his head in silence. Liu Xin was no man who shut his eyes and stopped his ears — this was self-deception already begun, just like Wang Mang.

The reason Wang Zong died was that he had violated the Emperor's greatest taboo.

The New Policies must be correct — they absolutely brook no questioning!

Over these ten-odd years, Liu Xin had poured too much of his heart's blood into the New Policies. The Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies had been his proposal, yet the result was chaos across the realm. Liu Xin had panicked at times, often inwardly fearful, but still he had to grit his teeth and hold on, accompanying Wang Mang down this perilous road.

Because Liu Xin had already paid too great a price.

Liu Xin had betrayed his own surname. As a descendant of Liu Jiao, Prince Yuan of Chu, he had assisted Wang Mang in supplanting the House of Han. Every Liu in the realm cursed and reviled him!

He had also sacrificed two of his own sons. Liu Xin had three sons and one daughter; the daughter married Crown Prince Wang Lin. All three sons enjoyed Wang Mang's favor and were enfeoffed as marquises. His second son, Liu Fen, in particular, was highly valued by Wang Mang for his outstanding talent and learning. Yet nine years ago, Liu Fen and his younger brother were both implicated in the rebellion case of Zhen Feng and his son Zhen Xun, and as a result were implicated and executed.

He could have chosen to plead for mercy and save his two sons, but Liu Xin chose to stand by and do nothing.

As a man who betrayed his ancestors and forgot his clan, when Liu Xin goes below to the Yellow Springs after death, above he cannot face the cold stare of his father Liu Xiang, and below he owes a debt to his two sons.

Unless he can truly assist Wang Mang in completing the establishment of rites and music, restoring the realm to the governance of the Three Dynasties — no matter how faint that hope, he must press on!

By now, Liu Xin is firmly bound to the Xin dynasty's toppling cart; there is no turning back.

At this point, the two old friends fell silent, and for a long time neither spoke.

This was the crux of their divergence: facing a corrupt age, does one actively engage with the world, participate in the course of history, and try to change it? Or does one withdraw into the court and marketplace, watching its victory and defeat with cold detachment?

This was a conversation between a man at the summit and a man at the foot of the mountain — the scenery they saw differed, and so did the states of their hearts. They shared a deep friendship and understood the old friend's reasons for acting so, yet they could never agree! Still less would they emulate each other!

The two elders could only recognize each other's worth, bid each other take care, and then sever all ties, never to see each other again until death!

It was only because of Diwu Lun's imprisonment that Yang Xiong was forced to have dealings with the State Preceptor's residence. Otherwise, today's conversation could never have happened — one might say it gave them an opening for reconciliation.

Liu Xin suddenly laughed.

"Ziyun, your disciple — what choice will he make?"

Yang Xiong was taken aback. "A choice about what?"

Liu Xin pointed outside at Diwu Lun, who was speaking with Wei Ao, and said: "Will he learn from me — cast aside some of his original intentions, keep climbing upward, and seize power to protect himself and realize his ambitions?"

"Or will he learn from you — remain silently in place, clinging to 'tranquility,' trampled upon by others, never knowing if he will last from morning to night?"

"Let us watch and see. Of the two paths, yours and mine — which will he choose?"

……

"The State Preceptor didn't ask about the algorithm for pi?"

Diwu Lun had once again been left to cool his heels all day today, not exchanging a single word with Liu Xin. Instead, it was Yang Xiong who had gone inside and stayed for two double-hours.

And now Yang Xiong told him that in those two double-hours, they had done nothing but reminisce and argue. As for pi — Liu Xin had not asked a single word about it.

The State Preceptor truly is an old tsundere. According to Wei Ao, he had been so absorbed he forgot to eat or sleep, calculating for days on end, yet outwardly he pretended not to care — he was dead set on working it out himself.

After returning to Xuanming Ward, Yang Xiong briefly recounted his conversation with Liu Xin, then asked Diwu Lun seriously:

"Boyu, you too now stand at a fork in the road. How will you choose?"

Even Yang Xiong felt the difficulty for Diwu Lun. Although he had luckily escaped this calamity, he had been marked by the Master of Fates of the Five Majesties. For Yang Xiong's sake, Liu Xin could protect him for a time — but Liu Zijun was old now; he could not protect him for a lifetime.

What was more troubling was that the times were so terrifying: whether you rose to the blue clouds or stayed on the main road, you were never safe.

To his surprise, Diwu Lun laughed at this and gave Yang Xiong an answer he had never expected.

"Master."

"Only a child makes choices."

"These two paths…"

"I will take neither!"

"A true man stands seven feet tall — why must he always follow in others' footprints? He ought to walk resolutely alone through the chaos and blaze a new trail!"

……

PS: A new week — requesting recommendation tickets.