Chapter 576: The Broken Serpent

As a vital transport corridor linking the Central Plains with Jing-Chu, Sui County never received the same attention as Xiangyang, for this land was a hilly region wedged between Greenwood Mountain, Tongbai Mountain, and the Dabie Mountains. The commandery was carved from the mountains — rocky defiles and narrow passes, roads crisscrossing everywhere. It was said the county held ninety-nine ridges in all, easy to enter but hard to leave; any army exceeding ten thousand men simply could not deploy here.

In such a hollow tucked among the hills, government authority had always been weak through dynasty after dynasty. During the Xin Dynasty, the Greenwood Army had expanded northward through this very region; when Liu Xuan, the Gengshi Emperor, ran afoul of the law, he too fled here to hide, which was how he joined Greenwood early on and later stumbled into his moment of destiny.

After the Greenwood-Han collapse, neither the Red Eyebrows nor the Wei armies ever fully controlled Sui County. Powerful local clans hid away among the ninety-nine ridges, and it was routine for Wei officials to find their writ stopped at the county town walls. In the spring, when Liu Xiu sent men to infiltrate Nanyang and stir uprisings, his own hometown of Chongling failed to raise a ripple — only Sui County kicked up a major storm. Former Greenwood veterans and local strongmen answered the call one after another, and the lands beyond the county seat were all but lost to the State of Wei.

Cen Peng was stretched too thin to spare a hand, and Yin Shi was too far away to reach; the rebellion in Sui County went unpacified for a long time. Under such circumstances, it was hardly surprising that Liu Xiu could march back so effortlessly with an army of fewer than ten thousand.

After so many years, the blazing Han banner was planted back inside Nanyang's borders for the first time. Ravaged by war after war, this remote county had only grown more destitute. Beggars filled the streets. Han troops scoured the countryside for grain but could barely find a speck; fields where green millet shoots had sprouted were abandoned to waste once more because of the fighting.

"What crime have the common people committed?"

Liu Xiu took it all in. It meant that to hold Sui County, he would have to ship grain up from Jiangxia just to meet the needs of his garrison and the local strongmen's armed bands.

Compared to Xiangyang, where the first move in the Han-Wei contest would be decided, Sui County was nothing but a chicken rib with no meat on it — too reluctant to throw away, yet impossible to chew anything off. Liu Xiu simply did not want it remaining in enemy hands. This advance also served to further pin down Diwu Lun, who was still in Nanyang, and to relieve pressure on Feng Yi and Deng Yu on the Xiangyang front — though at this moment, Liu Xiu still knew nothing of Deng Yu's crushing defeat or Feng Yi's withdrawal.

The Confucian scholar Qiang Hua, who had accompanied the army, found Liu Xiu an extra reason why Sui County absolutely had to be defended.

"Your Majesty, in Sui County there is a township called Spirit Snake Township, and a small hill named Broken Snake Hill!"

Qiang Hua had been Liu Xiu's dormitory mate back in their Imperial Academy days in Chang'an, and he happened to be a Sui County native — half a fellow townsman to Liu Xiu. During his studies, he had shown scant interest in the Five Classics, instead seeking out recluses and fangshi masters across the land to delve assiduously into the study of chenwei prophecy. When Liu Xiu declared himself Emperor, Qiang Hua had traveled a thousand li to present the "Red Cinnabar Talisman," providing the theoretical basis for his reign.

Liu Xiu repaid the favor by making him "Erudite Libationer," and for this campaign into Sui County, he had the local man serve as guide.

But Qiang Hua had acquired a taste for reward and had been sparing no effort ever since to find Liu Xiu more evidence proving his Heaven-ordained destiny. Now his eye had fallen upon Sui County's Broken Snake Hill.

Qiang Hua began recounting the story of that place: "Several centuries ago, Sui County was the fief of the Marquisate of Sui. When the tenth-generation Marquis of Sui held the title, he was passing by the Zha River when he saw a great serpent, wounded and broken in two — yet its head and tail still moved. The Marquis suspected the serpent was a divine spirit, so he sent men to treat it with medicine. The serpent was thus able to slither away, and the place was thereafter called 'Broken Snake Hill.'"

"A little over a year later, the great serpent returned, bearing in its mouth a luminous pearl in recompense. The pearl was a full inch across, and at night it gave off light like the moon's glow, enough to illuminate a chamber. Thus it was called the Pearl of the Marquis of Sui. This treasure later fell into the hands of the King of Chu and was the supreme jewel of the southern kingdoms, equal in fame to the Heshibi jade disc."

Liu Xiu listened with keen interest; he was quite enthusiastic about such chenwei and supernatural tales, and he asked about the pearl's subsequent fate.

Qiang Hua said, "After Qin destroyed Chu, the Pearl of the Marquis of Sui passed into the hands of the First Emperor of Qin. Scouts found no further trace of it. Some say it was buried with the First Emperor in his tomb chamber, to serve in place of oil lamps."

"However..." Seeing the regret on Liu Xiu's face, Qiang Hua timely presented a fine object he had acquired after returning to Sui County: "There is also a tradition that the Pearl of the Marquis of Sui was not a single gem, but many. After I followed Your Majesty back here, I chanced upon this item in the market ward and suspect it to be a Sui pearl!"

So saying, Qiang Hua presented the "supreme treasure." What lay in his palm was indeed a small bead just over an inch across, beautifully colored, its surface covered with concentric rings of differing hues — blues, whites, and other shades. It felt quite cool and smooth in the hand.

Though it did not glow at night, under sunlight or candlelight it did shimmer with a certain glinting flash, and its coloring resembled the compound eye of a dragonfly. If one gazed at it too long, one felt as though that eye were staring back — all the more mysterious for it.

Liu Xiu showed the object to his trusted aides, and they all clicked their tongues in wonder, claiming they had never seen anything like it before. Had Diwu Lun been present, he would have doubled over in laughter — this thing was nothing but a glass bead!

The object was called a "dragonfly eye," a lead-barium glass invented locally as far back as the Spring and Autumn period, buried in tombs as an ornament. The technique was later lost amid the chaos of war. Occasionally, Spring and Autumn tombs were robbed, and dragonfly eyes would circulate, sold off as "Sui pearls." Qiang Hua had obtained one and treasured it as a priceless gem.

He insisted adamantly that this was the Pearl of the Marquis of Sui!

Qiang Hua began elevating the matter with great fanfare: "Your Majesty, in ancient times the High Ancestor raised his standard after cutting down a white serpent, and from that came the glory of the Former Han. And today, at Broken Snake Hill in Sui County, Your Majesty has recovered the supreme treasure, the Sui Pearl, lost for centuries — is this not Heaven's will that the Flame Han shall rise again?"

Zang Gong, General Who Supports Might, who had accompanied the expedition, was unconvinced and raised a doubt: "Hold a moment. The High Ancestor cut the white serpent at Pei County — he cleaved the long snake in two with a single sword stroke. But this Broken Snake Hill is where the Marquis of Sui rejoined a broken snake into one whole. The two events are complete opposites. What good omen is there in that?"

Qiang Hua laughed heartily, declared that Zang Gong did not understand the art, and then spoke mysteriously of a certain chenwei prophecy: "When I accompanied the imperial procession in Pei County, I heard the local elders tell of this: on the day the High Emperor cut the serpent, that white python actually spoke in human tongue!"

"The python said, 'If you cut off my head, then your whole house shall perish beginning from the head. If you cut off my tail, then your flesh shall rot from the bottom up until you die.'"

"In the end, the High Emperor cut the white python through the middle. As the python writhed, it still spat out arrogant words: 'Your dynasty's altars shall likewise be cut through the middle!'"

At this point, Qiang Hua finally made clear the point of his tale, true or false: "The Former Han passed down to Emperor Ping, and sure enough, a 'python' usurped Han and made it Xin. Fortunately, the Great Han was not entirely cut off; Your Majesty has gathered up the rivers and mountains anew and re-forged the Han line in the southeast. Yet in this way, the Han dynasty has indeed been broken in two, like the spirit snake. Is this not precisely the moment when the chen of Broken Snake Hill is needed to mend the halves, sweep away the rival lords, and let the Great Han continue its dynastic altars?"

These two stories, which originally had no connection whatsoever, were thus forcibly stitched together. Zang Gong, General Who Supports Might, was stunned, yet he could hardly refute it. In the past he had been nothing more than a Patrol Officer in Yingchuan Commandery, barely literate; how could he be any match for Qiang Hua in debating chenwei?

Among the assembled ministers listening in, some even put on expressions of sudden enlightenment and believed Qiang Hua's argument.

From beginning to end, Liu Xiu had only toyed with the "Pearl of the Marquis of Sui" in his hand, listening with a smile as Qiang Hua boasted. Only at the end did he clap and laugh: "So such a chen exists. It seems I truly ought to pay homage at Broken Snake Hill and erect a stele for the Marquis of Sui and the spirit snake."

The story was bizarre and far-fetched. He was indeed superstitious, but he was not so befuddled as to take it at face value. Yet Liu Xiu's small court was far too feeble; the high tide of "the people's hearts long for Han" had passed, and he had to borrow the power of chenwei tales as an aid to rally men's spirits.

And, conveniently, if anyone proposed abandoning Sui County out of fear of the enemy, Liu Xiu could use this story to shut their mouths.

However, the acquisition of the "Pearl of the Marquis of Sui" brought Liu Xiu no good fortune whatsoever. Barely a day later, news of the great defeat in Jing-Xiang reached Sui County.

When he heard that Deng Yu had lost over ten thousand troops and fled by water with only twenty-four men, Liu Xiu's fists instantly hardened. It meant the Han army had lost an eighth of its strength in one stroke. He barely restrained himself from cursing aloud: "Deng Yu, give me back my divisions!"

But Liu Xiu maintained his fine self-possession and did not utterly repudiate Deng Yu in his anger. He endured it — until he learned the next piece of disastrous news.

Ma Wu had been captured and killed in that battle!

Liu Xiu first froze. Then he shot to his feet, clutched his chest with one hand, seized his own collar tightly, and broke into loud, unrestrained weeping!

Ma Wu, as a great magnate of Greenwood, had been fond of drink and loose-tongued, laughing and cursing freely. A man like that made many enemies, but also many friends. His death greatly roused the fighting spirit of Liu Xiu's followers. For a time, former Greenwood veterans and ministers who had fought at Kunyang came forward one after another to plead for action.

Especially Zang Gong, General Who Supports Might. He had joined the Greenwood Army as a minor Xin Dynasty clerk and served under Ma Wu for a spell before Ma Wu recommended him to Liu Xiu; their bond was the closest of all.

With his old commander fallen in battle, Zang Gong was beside himself with grief. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled not with bloodshot veins but with hatred. He performed the triple kowtow and pressed his forehead to the ground, imploring Liu Xiu to continue the northern advance from Sui County, strike straight at Wancheng, and avenge Ma Wu.

"I wish to be the vanguard of the front division and seize Diwu Lun before Your Majesty's throne!"

That was empty boasting. Though Liu Xiu grieved as well, he was not so blinded by fury as to lose his head.

He wore unhemmed sackcloth mourning, and though he had kinship ties with Ma Wu, for an Emperor to wear mourning for a subject was already an immense act of grace. Moreover, Liu Xiu insisted on keeping vigil for Ma Wu; none of the assembled ministers who witnessed it were unmoved.

Liu Xiu helped Zang Gong to his feet and said with deep feeling: "North of Sui County lies Chongling's Whitewater Township, where the tombs of my ancestors and my father rest. Day and night I gaze northward — has there been a single day I have forgotten?"

"And General Ma was my wife's elder brother. We worked together for many years. Now that I have lost Brother Ma, it is as though an arm has been severed. Day and night the sharp pain throbs; I toss and turn in tears. This grief and this hatred — I share them entirely with you, sir."

But the present situation was extremely unfavorable to Han. With the great defeat in Jing-Xiang, Feng Yi had already withdrawn south to preserve his effective strength and could not coordinate for some time. If Liu Xiu mobilized his troops now, he would become an isolated army plunging deep into enemy territory...

And on the enemy side, Zheng Tong, General Who Sweeps the Field, had already moved south from Yingchuan and Ru'nan and was just north of Sui County.

Cen Peng had also ceased pursuing Feng Yi and was consolidating his hold on Xiangyang and Fancheng, to the west of Sui County.

Add to that the considerable forces Diwu Lun still had in Wancheng, and Liu Xiu would be marching straight into a three-sided pincer — bringing the Han-Wei contest to a premature end!

"The great vengeance must be exacted, and our homeland must be restored. But we must not be over-hasty. If we are, we will only fall once more into Diwu Lun's cunning traps and cause more officers and soldiers to die in vain."

Having with difficulty soothed his ministers, Liu Xiu let out a breath, yet he felt rather listless, a knot of gloom in his chest. After mulling it over, he could only smile bitterly and mock himself: "If my elder brother Bosheng were still here, he would surely cast everything aside and strike straight at Wancheng."

But he was not like his elder brother. In his early years, he had dared charge three hundred thousand with three thousand, winning instant renown at Kunyang. After becoming King of Wu and then Emperor, with more and more men under him and an ever-larger domain to manage, he could not help but exhaust every ounce of his mind and proceed with the utmost caution — because what Liu Xiu now faced was no rabble of clay chickens and tile dogs from the Xin Dynasty.

It was the most ferocious of enemies!

Having calmed himself, Liu Xiu began to ponder, clutching the "Pearl of the Marquis of Sui" in his hand. The Jing-Xiang battle had been lost too disastrously; it had nearly cut the Han army's backbone in two as well. The generals were shifting blame onto one another, the morale of the three armies was at rock bottom, and faith in victory had been lost. Under such circumstances, how could he, like the Marquis of Sui, mend the broken serpent and make it whole again?

So Liu Xiu summoned Zang Gong, General Who Supports Might, and left him five thousand troops to garrison Sui County. Liu Xiu's original intent in taking Sui County had been to add flowers to brocade; he had never imagined it would become the only scrap of advantage the Eastern Han had gained in this entire campaign, and the sole bulwark west of the Jiang-Huai region. It had to be held!

As for Liu Xiu himself, he traveled south day and night to Jiangxia Commandery. There he met Deng Yu, who had come in trepidation to beg for punishment, hoping the Emperor would order his death.

Deng Yu's heart was filled with shame and anguish. He felt that in the past, when he had assessed military strategy, he had been too fond of big talk, and now that he had botched everything, he had no face left to meet the Emperor. So he entered the camp stripped to the waist and bearing thorn branches on his back, prostrated himself before Liu Xiu, pressed his forehead to the ground, and bitterly reviled himself.

He had lost a pivotal battle, and in the most wretched fashion, causing a great general to die in combat. Liu Xiu could have laid all the blame squarely on Deng Yu's head, executing him to quell public outrage, while preserving his own image of brilliance and martial prowess.

Who would have thought that after walking over, Liu Xiu would gently pull out one of the thorny branches Deng Yu had brought north — yet instead of striking the young Minister Deng, he fiercely lashed his own left palm with it! It was a genuine blow, struck with extreme force, and bright red welts of blood instantly appeared on the skin!

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, what are you doing?" Deng Yu and the assembled ministers in the tent were horrified and hurriedly moved to stop him.

And Liu Xiu seized this very moment, looking at everyone with a pained expression, and delivered a profoundly earnest self-reflection.

"For the defeat at Jing-Xiang, though the generals bear fault, the blame rests upon my own person!"