Chapter 59: Thirty-Six Thousand Years Have Passed Since Then

The moment Diwu Ba finished speaking, eight hands representing the seven families shot up in unison.

Wait, why were there eight hands? Diwu Lun looked over — the Diyi clan had raised two.

Diyi Liu, who no longer involved himself in clan affairs, also lifted his hand, though not as high; it looked less like agreement and more like he had something to say.

Diyi Liu drawled, "Cigong, Boyu, do not misunderstand. This old man does not oppose the matter."

If you're not opposing it, then what are you trying to say? Diwu Ba was petty-minded and figured Diyi Liu was nursing an old grudge, but Diwu Lun said, "Speak plainly."

"Boyu has just lost his post as a Palace Gentleman and is now a commoner." Diyi Liu looked around at everyone. "To assume the position of clan head right now — is that not somewhat... overhasty?"

The implication was clear: you've become a nobody again, not even the equal of my son — on what grounds should you lead and give orders? On some vague, insubstantial reputation?

"This old dog."

Diwu Ba could bear it no longer. Convinced Diyi Liu was here to wreck the proceedings, he was ready to have the father and son thrown out.

Don't do that — wouldn't that make the La Festival incomplete? In Diwu Lun's plan, not a single one of the Di clans along the canal could be left out.

Smiling, he stopped Diwu Ba. "He has a point. Ah, I thought there was no need to mention this, but very well. Uncles and brothers, please look — what is this?"

Diwu Lun reached into his robe. Diqi Biao found the scene eerily familiar, and sure enough, Diwu Lun produced a seal: a bronze seal with a yellow cord!

Diwu Fu came over holding a piece of white cloth. Diwu Lun breathed on the seal, pressed it down firmly, then passed it around for everyone to see.

It bore four characters: "Liewei Household Clerk."

Diyi Liu was stunned. The others stared at one another in bewilderment. They only knew Diwu Lun had resigned his post as Palace Gentleman; none knew when he had become the Household Clerk of Liewei Commandery!

It turned out that when Diwu Lun had visited Grand Governor Zhang Zhan before returning home, Zhang Zixiao had once again offered him an appointment. Zhang Zhan's gesture carried a hint of guilt and recompense. After a few polite demurrals, Diwu Lun accepted — this time, he had no intention of declining.

An official post was always better than being a commoner, and what was more, this position was absolutely perfect for him.

As one of the commandery's clerks, the Household Clerk oversaw household registrations, census records, marriages, land and housing, miscellaneous corvée labor, and the like — a post with real authority.

"With this post, I can gain a thorough grasp of every county's population, wealth and poverty, distribution of land and housing, tax burdens, and strategic roads across the entire Liewei Commandery!"

"Coming and going from the commandery office, dealing with officials, I'll also learn all about local corruption and the successes and failures of governance."

Cold sweat beaded on Diyi Liu. Diwu Lun had barely lost one post and already gained another — did the Grand Governor treat court seals and cords as toys to be handed out at whim? By any reckoning, the Household Clerk ranked at three hundred dan, making Diwu Lun still the highest-ranking official in the entire clan.

The Disi and Diqi clans were also calculating inwardly. The Household Clerk controlled corvée assignments for the whole commandery — exemption or heavier levies, it was all a matter of a single word. With interests so directly at stake, even if Diwu Lun didn't want the role, every family would have to beg him to serve as clan head.

"My father is drunk! The Diyi clan has absolutely no objection to Boyu as clan head!"

The ever-filial Diyi Guan shot his tactless old father several hard glares. Diyi Liu wilted at once and dared not utter another word.

Seeing unanimous approval, Diwu Lun did not stand on ceremony. Smiling, he said, "Eighth Clan Uncle, continue reciting the poem. What is the second half of 'The Cherry Tree' again?"

Diba Zhi responded, "Set forth your bian and dou vessels, drink your fill of wine. When brothers are all gathered, harmony and joy abound."

"Husband and wife in sweet accord, like lutes and zithers playing together. When brothers are in close accord, harmony and joy are deep and lasting."

"Well said — just like today."

Diwu Lun rose to his feet and raised his cup. "We feast our brothers to deepen affection and love. I can guarantee nothing else, but so long as every clan follows me, your households shall prosper, your wives and children shall rejoice!"

In short: follow the Diwu clan, and you'll have happy families and wealth pouring in!

Except for Diwu Ba, who sat beaming beside Diwu Lun, everyone else rose and stepped away from their mats, bowing their heads to this youth of only eighteen.

"We pay our respects to the clan head!"

The great affairs of a state lie in sacrifice and war, and since the ancients saw family and state as one, the same principle applied to managing a clan.

Diwu Lun decided to proceed in three steps: begin with ritual and sacrifice to unify thinking, gradually integrate economic affairs, and finally turn to conscription and military matters.

With the sole and lifelong clan head confirmed, each family swiftly found its proper place, rallying closely around Diwu Lun as they followed him into the "Inner Benevolence Hall."

As it happened, although all the Di clans of Linqu Township had borne the surname Tian two hundred years ago, the ancestors each clan acknowledged differed slightly.

Diwu Lun simply gathered all the families' ancestors together. The spirit tablets in the Inner Benevolence Hall now included several more figures: the three brothers Tian Dan, Tian Rong, and Tian Heng, along with Tian Rong's son Tian Guang.

The three were actually cousins. Because the earlier genealogical records had been lost, it was impossible to know the names of their fathers or grandfathers, or from which King of Qi they had branched off. Diwu Lun did not bother with further research and simply traced the line all the way back to the most famous figure of the Warring States period, King Wei of Qi.

Thus the tablets of Dan, Rong, Heng, and Guang surrounded the common ancestor, King Wei of Qi, like stars encircling the center.

After presenting the finest La offerings contributed by each family, Diwu Lun intoned in praise: "Alas! Rising from commoners, three brothers each became king in turn — were they not worthy men indeed!"

"The three ancestors are a model of brothers defending one another against external insult, worthy of emulation by later generations. They fell in battle one after another and were parted in death; to be honored together in sacrifice today, the three kings beneath the springs, if they know, must surely feel great solace."

These were not idle words. According to the clan elders, during the late Qin and Chu-Han wars, the three Tians truly threw themselves forward one after another, holding out to the bitter end in Qi against Xiang Yu and Liu Bang. It was only when they met the Marquis of Huaiyin, Han Xin, that they were swept away.

Han Xin, Diwu Lun mused — he'd played him in a certain game. He was indeed quite jumpy. Losing to a genius like that was no disgrace.

In this way, a historical lineage for the union of all the Di clans of Linqu Township was properly established, and every family was thoroughly satisfied.

Now the name was true and the justification sound. The small goal Diwu Lun had set upon first crossing over — uniting the various clans into a single lineage — was achieved.

It had taken only five months.

But he could not stop now. It was time to set a mid-range goal: before the realm descended into chaos, turn Changling County, and eventually the entire Liewei Commandery, into his exclusive domain!

Besides honoring the ancestors, the La day rites also required praying for favorable weather, fertile soil, no insect plagues, and no calamities in the year ahead. Diwu Lun then led everyone in offering pork and wine to the Hearth God.

With the rites complete and the evening meal approaching, the clan heads were all in high spirits, outwardly as close as one family. The Sergeants and Corporals from the various hamlets also sat mingled together at the mats, chatting and laughing merrily, while their children ran about everywhere playing. The youngsters did not understand the significance of the day; they only felt that this year's La Festival was many times livelier than usual.

The scene filled Zhang Yu and Zhu Di, working as kitchen helpers, with deep envy.

They had long since forgotten what family felt like. Over the past few days in Diwu Hamlet, a faint sense of belonging had begun to grow, but they were still outsiders. Zhang Yu even lowered his head and asked Zhu Di, "Should we ask the clan head to let us take the surname Diwu too?"

Diwu Yu and Diwu Di? Zhu Di shook his head.

Meanwhile, at the feast, Disi Xian was granted a seat beside the clan head, a mark of his status that made him rather smug.

"Clan Head, didn't you previously instruct my family's traveling merchants to gather more news from east of the pass when they go to Hedong and other places?"

Disi Xian had not let Diwu Lun down. Over the past months, he had already helped him learn of several uprisings.

For instance, the year before last, Gua Tianyi and others in Linhuai had turned to banditry, gathering a crowd in Kuaiji Commandery in Yangzhou that could not be suppressed for a long time.

The biggest disturbance, however, was in Xuzhou. The son of a woman named Lü Mu of Langya had been unjustly executed by the County Magistrate. To avenge her son, Lü Mu scattered her family fortune, bought weapons and crossbows, and secretly recruited poor youths from the county, gathering over a hundred men. Then this heroine led them to attack Haiqu County and killed the magistrate. Afterward, Lü Mu led her troops into the sea, waging amphibious warfare against the authorities, and has now gathered a following of over ten thousand, famed throughout the realm.

The south, in Jingzhou, was also unsettled. Because of the Six Monopolies prohibition, the fishermen of Yunmeng and the Han River suffered harsh exploitation. Coupled with years of drought, the common people were starving and destitute, and so they turned to banditry, gathering at Greenwood Mountain in Jiangxia with considerable momentum.

"Now there are rumors that in the latter half of last year, trouble broke out again in the east."

Diwu Xian swallowed a slice of cut cured goose and sucked his finger. "Still in Xu Province. The local people, driven by famine, have banded together, raiding counties and villages, and have also gathered over ten thousand bandits. The commandery and provincial troops of Qing and Xu attacked them but could not overcome them."

Another wave had risen. Diwu Lun disliked the term "bandits" — these were peasant uprisings. He nodded and asked, "Do we know the name of the one who raised the banner?"

"I've only heard that the leader is a man called Fan Chong!"

…

During the La Festival, the court and officials also held sacrificial rites, at a site near the Imperial Academy called the "Bright Hall."

The Bright Hall was one of the Three Yong, and it was Wang Mang's greatest political achievement when he was Duke Who Pacifies the Han. Within it stood a single hall, open on all four sides with no walls, roofed with yellow tiles, surrounded by flowing water that ringed the palace walls, and a covered passageway was built to cross the encircling waters — this bridge was called "Kunlun." The Emperor, leading the assembled ministers, entered from the southwest.

What was worshipped in the Bright Hall was the supreme deity created by the Xin Dynasty after merging the Shang and Zhou "Heavenly Thearch" with the Han "Grand Unity": "His Majesty the August Heaven Grand Unity Supreme Thearch"!

The Emperor, Wang Mang, went inside himself to commune with the Grand Unity. The assembled ministers waited outside the Bright Hall, all in ceremonial robes, wearing on their heads the novel "Qilin-skin caps." No furs could be worn today, and they shivered uncontrollably in the freezing wind.

Before long, from inside to outside, the Music Bureau officials launched into a grand, sweeping performance of the *New Music*, which had been revised over several years and was at last complete.

As a State Preceptor Yuanshi, Wei Ao stood at the very end of the ranks. Listening, he secretly shook his head. "Clear, piercing, and mournful — this is not the sound of a nation rising. I wonder how that Huan Junshan, the Music Master, composed it."

Composing music was Huan Tan's official duty — after all, his ancestors had been Grand Music Directors for the Han — but from what Wei Ao knew of Huan Tan, he felt the fellow might well have deliberately slipped notes of veiled satire into the *New Music* presented to the Emperor. He wondered whether the Emperor had noticed.

More than the rites, what preoccupied the courtiers was the urgent report that had arrived from the east before the new year: the Xu Province bandits were not just Fan Chong — there was also one Li Zidu, whose followers also numbered over ten thousand.

The current situation was this: Mother Lü had shifted her operations to the Haidai region — the very island area where Tian Heng took refuge during the Chu-Han era — making it hard for the authorities to catch her. Fan Chong was leading his men along the Yimeng Mountains toward Mount Tai. And Li Zidu was circling through several commanderies in northern Xu Province.

With these three great "bandit" forces running rampant, Xu Province was already a complete mess. The courtiers all hoped the court would quickly produce a plan — whether to suppress or pacify, there had to be a clear decision.

His Majesty the Emperor certainly did not disappoint them. When the rites concluded, the State General Ai Zhang, his face beaming with delight, came out and proclaimed a great tidings.

"'The *Purple Pavilion Chart* states: "The Grand Unity and the Yellow Thearch both became immortals and ascended to heaven, spreading music atop the Kunlun and Qian mountains. When a sage ruler of later ages obtains an auspicious sign, he should spread music atop Mount Zhongnan."'"

"'I, in my dullness, have not carried this out clearly — only now do I understand. Does not the *Yi* say, "Daily renewal is called abundant virtue; ceaseless generation is called change"? I shall feast upon this!'"

Wang Mang believed that "Zhen" was created by the First Emperor of the brutal Qin, so he disliked using it; in his edicts he mostly used "Yu" to refer to himself — yet he was perfectly content with the title "Emperor," which also came from Qin. A curious thing.

The *Purple Pavilion Chart* was a mysterious prophetic diagram. The Emperor, Wang Mang, had once declared before State Preceptor Liu Xin, "By relying on the Purple Pavilion Chart, I can easily foretell events two thousand years into the future."

And by acting according to the various mandate omens and hints upon it, one could comply with Heaven's will.

"Today I have sacrificed to His Majesty the August Heaven Grand Unity Supreme Thearch in the Bright Hall and performed the *New Music*. The Thearch, moved by my sincerity, has bestowed a divine calendar, containing a calendrical cycle of thirty-six thousand years, with the era name changing once every six years — let this be proclaimed throughout the realm!"

Rebellion in the east? Bandits gathering in hordes? No matter. The prophetic mandate omens bestowed by the heavenly deity say that the Great Xin shall endure for thirty-six thousand years! The *Purple Pavilion Chart* predicts the same. My lords, there is no need for alarm — let the music play on, let the dance go on!

Wei Ao was stunned. The assembled ministers were dumbfounded. And then came a scene worthy of the history books.

From within the Bright Hall streamed a continuous file of clerks, yellow-gate eunuchs, and palace maids, each bearing in their hands a wooden mandate tablet prepared long beforehand, inscribed in vermilion with two or three characters.

Starting with "Dihuang," to be used from the coming year, a total of six thousand era names, fresh out of the oven — enough for a thousand generations of Wang Mang's descendants.

These were what State General Ai Zhang, the Marquis of Pronouncing Omens Cui Fa, and others had racked their brains over for three days and three nights without sleep to cobble together! Then they had people hastily copy them out in vermilion — some even had miswritten characters.

As Wei Ao stood dazed, he felt a great gust of wind sweep in, as if about to blow the Qilin-skin cap from his head. He hurriedly steadied it, crying out in his heart: "Before, there was the First Emperor of Qin's line of ten thousand generations; now there is the Xin's cycle of thirty-six thousand years."

The Qin, which boasted it would last ten thousand generations, fell in its second reign, its foundations, palaces, and halls all turned to dust.

"No wonder the music was clear, piercing, and mournful. Inauspicious — deeply inauspicious!"

…

PS: Begging for recommendation votes.