Chapter 616: Burning the Books

Diwu Lun had already taken his seat in the side hall and sipped a mouthful of warm broth, then watched the two men arguing below with keen interest.

After Huan Tan's sharp rebuke, the head of the Yan clan did not back down. In the present age, the title "Second Sage" had not yet been conferred upon Mencius; the acknowledged second sage after Confucius was instead Yan Hui. As the descendant of the Second Sage, how could his clan fall short in classical learning?

The Yan clan head then said with veiled sarcasm, "I have long heard that Grand Master Huan is broadly learned and well-versed, having studied all the Five Classics, yet he seeks only the exegetical meaning and does not engage in chapter-and-verse commentary. No wonder he knows only the Analects and the Five Classics, but does not understand the illustrated prophecies."

The implication was that Huan Tan's scholarship was not up to standard, which was why he did not know of this matter.

Huan Tan laughed when he heard this. "If we speak of the two men in this world who best understand the illustrated prophecies, one is called Liu Xin, the other Wang Mang. Both used false heavenly mandates to bring chaos to the realm. Does the Yan clan wish to follow in their footsteps?"

Old Man Yan argued stubbornly, "What Wang Mang and Liu Xin propagated were false illustrated prophecies — how can they compare to the weft texts that record the deeds of the sage?"

"How do you know they are true deeds?"

Old Man Yan began to resort to sophistry, repeating over and over: "These are matters handed down orally from generation to generation by our ancestors — how could they be false?"

With the descendants of the Second Sage vouching for them, no wonder the prophetic weft texts were so fervently believed throughout the realm. Huan Tan shook his head and looked toward Kong Zhi, who had been playing dead the whole time. "Has the Kong clan ever transmitted this matter?"

Kong Zhi had kept his head lowered in silence until now, sweat beading on his forehead. He had already signaled Old Man Yan with his eyes, but the other man, whose family had been engaged in prophetic weft studies for generations and had deceived even themselves into believing it, acted as if he had not seen and insisted on defending the weft texts to the bitter end.

Kong Zhi did not outright sell out his ally, saying only ambiguously, "This unworthy student is of shallow learning and seems not to have heard of it; I merely do not know whether my uncles and brothers might be aware."

Huan Tan was amused. "The Kong clan does not know, yet the Yan clan does? Why exactly is that? Could it be that Confucius truly wiped his eyes, causing Yanzi to die young, and so Confucius in his grief cried out, 'Heaven has bereft me,' and closed his mouth, never speaking of the matter again — while the Yan clan, on the contrary, nursed a deep grievance and thus passed it down through the generations?"

At this, the faces of both the Kong and Yan families changed drastically. They had never thought of it from this angle before. Old Man Yan immediately grew frantic and pointed at Huan Tan, cursing: "I have often heard it said that Grand Master Huan is unlike ordinary Confucians, leaning instead toward the followers of Yang Zhu and Mo Di. Today he indeed openly doubts the sage's deeds and utters slanderous murmurs — this is utterly without regard for Heaven or teacher!"

The implication was an attack on Huan Tan as no true Confucian, one of those Mencius called "beasts," unworthy to comment on Confucius.

At this moment, Diwu Lun slapped the table in displeasure. "Old Man Yan, stick to the matter at hand and do not look left and right while speaking of other things. Grand Master Huan has been appointed Libationer of the Imperial Academy, ranking above all the Erudites. Of the three great masters spanning the Han-Xin transition — my teacher Yang Ziyun, Liu Xin, and Huan Junshan — in this present age, if even Grand Master Huan is unqualified to debate the classics and discuss antiquity, who is? Grand Master Huan, continue!"

Huan Tan assented and began to analyze the flaws in this story. "It is said that in high antiquity there was a minister of the Yellow Emperor named 'Li Zhu,' who could see beyond a hundred paces and discern the tip of an autumn hair. Yet from the land of Lu to Gusu, the capital of Wu, is over a thousand li. Even if you had Li Zhu gaze out, he could not see that far in the end — how much less Confucius and Yan Yuan?"

Old Man Yan retorted, "That is because Grand Master Huan himself cannot do it, and so he assumes Confucius also could not — he truly underestimates the sage! The ancients said: the sage is one whose essence communicates with the divine, born entirely of Heaven, and therefore able to see what others cannot."

He then recounted two more stories. "In the land of Lu there is a legend: a man of Lu went out to sea and lost his way. Later he encountered Confucius upon the ocean, who, because the Kingly Way found no purchase, was drifting upon the sea with his disciples on a raft. Confucius gave the man of Lu a staff and told him to close his eyes and ride it home…"

And so, like Harry Potter, the man of Lu rode the staff and flew back to Lu, where he relayed Confucius's warning to Duke Ai of Lu: foreign invaders would soon come, and they should raise the city walls high without delay. Not long after, the Qi army arrived at the city walls, but because Lu was prepared, they withdrew without success.

Diwu Lun laughed outright at this. The stories were growing more and more absurd — this was no longer a man, but a god. Yet this was precisely the Confucius that the so-called "Han Confucians" wished to fashion: from a simple teacher of former times into a divine son and prophet.

Huan Tan loathed this intent with a deep and bitter hatred, and he fired off three questions in succession. "If Confucius truly foresaw events like a god, why was he forced out by the Three Huan, leaving Lu in disappointment to wander among the feudal lords?"

"If Confucius truly possessed such divine powers, why was he trapped between Chen and Cai, unable to eat for many days?"

"If Confucius truly was omnipotent, why did he let Yanzi's hair turn white and his teeth fall out, dying young as a result? And if he knew beforehand and still let it happen, then it was a teacher killing his disciple — utterly at odds with Confucius's heart of loving his disciples!"

Huan Tan cupped his hands toward Diwu Lun. "This minister believes that such stories are malicious in intent. Under the name of proclaiming Confucius a divine man, they in fact smear the former sage, shifting the blame for Yanzi's death onto Confucius. Yet Old Man Yan and his ilk actually believe them as truth — this runs contrary to Yanzi's conduct of 'never repeating a fault.' How foolish they are!"

Old Man Yan remained stubborn and continued to repeat, "These are matters handed down orally from generation to generation by our ancestors — how could they…"

Unexpectedly, Diwu Lun's expression suddenly hardened, and he rebuked him: "Silence!"

"The Kong clan, as descendants of the sage, do not even know these absurd tales — how is it that the Yan clan and those weft texts that dare not bear an author's name can recount them in exhaustive detail?"

Kong Zhi dropped to his knees on the spot, while the Yan clan members were pinned to the ground by several armored soldiers who had long been prepared.

Diwu Lun's words rang with force: "The Master did not speak of strange forces and chaotic spirits!"

"Old Man Yan, in name a descendant of the Second Sage, is in truth of the same ilk as the yin-yang fangshi. He smears the former sages and contravenes the teachings of Confucius and Yan. He is no longer fit to be head of the Yan clan. He shall be stripped of his inherited title and banished to the frontier. From the Yan clan, another shall be chosen as clan chief!"

After Old Man Yan was dragged away, Diwu Lun's gaze swept over the classical-learning families of Lu. They did not possess vast landholdings, but had survived to this day by feeding off their ancestors' classical learning. Over the past century, they had not been sparing in vouching for all manner of prophetic weft texts, deifying themselves to further entrench their family enterprises.

But this state of affairs ended here. The "clickbait accounts" that hyped legends, vainly attempting to deify Confucius and turn Confucianism into a religion — all of them must die!

"The Master said: revere the spirits and gods, but keep them at a distance."

Diwu Lun said, "Yet when I leaf through the weft texts, the stories within concerning Confucius are all absurd matters of spirits and gods. I believe this is certainly not the sage's true intent."

Just as everyone thought Diwu Lun was about to directly ban the illustrated prophecies and weft texts, he lowered the hand he had clenched into a fist in anger and said with a sigh, "If I directly prohibit such things, it is unavoidable that vulgar Confucians and fangshi will afterward denounce it as 'imitating the tyrannical Qin's burning of books.'"

"Minister Huan." Diwu Lun singled out Huan Tan and said to him, "I have ordered the collection of forged books such as the Spring and Autumn: Chart of Confucius's Manifestations. Among the foolish men and women of the realm, and even among so-called renowned scholars and old Confucians, those who fervently believe the stories within are not few. Minister, you have always disliked the prophetic weft texts — would you be willing to lend me your strength and write some essays to refute these heterodox and evil doctrines one by one?"

During Wang Mang's time, belief in prophetic weft texts had become a mad obsession; Huan Tan alone remained silent and unmoved. In his earlier work New Discourses, he had scoffed at these things even more. In Huan Tan's view, the so-called prophetic weft predictions appeared plausible on the surface but were in fact far-fetched, fabricated nonsense — weaving tales under the name of Kong Qiu, even directly deifying Kong Qiu, all for their own selfish gain.

Though he knew this would be no easy task, Huan Tan still gladly assented.

"It is what I have always wished for — I merely dared not ask!"

Diwu Lun nodded, then looked toward the man trembling with fear — the sixteenth-generation descendant of Confucius.

"Kong Zhi."

"This humble man is here!"

Kong Zhi dared not raise his head. He only heard Diwu Lun soften his tone. "Minister, you are utterly different from Old Man Yan and truly worthy of being a descendant of the sage. My heart is greatly comforted! Raise your head and speak."

When Kong Zhi lifted his eyes, he found that Diwu Lun's hand had already reached out before them. "The true likeness of Confucius kept in the Kong residence — might it be lent out for a month or so?"

"Of course it can! Whatever Your Majesty requires, the Kong clan will offer with all its strength! Not to mention a month — even if it were to be kept forever in the palace, it would only be right!"

Kong Zhi had been terrified by Old Man Yan's fate; even if Diwu Lun now told him to denounce Confucius, he would probably have agreed.

But how could Diwu Lun do such a thing? Toward Confucius, he harbored absolutely no ill intent. He only smiled kindly and said, "Now that we have woodblock carving, we can order skilled craftsmen to copy and carve the likeness, then print several thousand copies to distribute throughout the realm, pasting them in the schools of every commandery and county, so that the people of the world may know: Confucius is a sage — a former sage and former saint among us ordinary mortals. He was a man!"

Diwu Lun said with profound meaning:

"Not a black-dragon spirit, not a monster!"

…

Let us turn our gaze back to Huainan. Although Han and Wei had not concluded a ceasefire, the two banks of the Huai River had in practice already ceased hostilities. Liu Xiu first waited a month, and only when he heard that Diwu Lun had gone north to Qi and Lu did he hand the front lines over to his subordinate officers and go himself to tour Jiangdong to pacify the people's hearts.

Although, relying on the captured Gai Yan and over a thousand Yuyang soldiers, Liu Xiu had Deng Yu spin this defeat as a great victory of "losing ground but preserving men, heavily mauling the Wei invaders," even if this trick could fool the powerful families of Huainan and Jiangdong, it could not fool Liu Xiu himself. By day his mood was high, but after nightfall he grew quite despondent. He who had once been described by Huan Tan as "not fond of drink" now began to drown himself in the cup.

The reason he was so distressed was that Liu Xiu could see no hope of victory.

When he declared himself Emperor, he had made a vow in the high temple at Pei County that he could, like the High Emperor, destroy Qin in three years and pacify Chu in four, then spend twenty years restoring the people's livelihood across the realm.

But as things now stood, not being destroyed by Diwu Lun within three or four years would already be considered good. The battle of Jing-Xiang had been a Han offensive; the campaign north of the Huai had been a forced defense. But whether attacking or defending, they had lost utterly. In Jing-Xiang, tactically Feng Yi and Deng Yu were no match for Cen Peng. North of the Huai, Liu Xiu had personally directed tactics, achieving the utmost and winning two battles, but he could not reverse the enormous gap in strength.

Thinking of this, Liu Xiu could not help but feel somewhat disheartened.

"My ministers often console me with the battle of Kunyang, saying that even if Diwu Lun gathered the troops of the north, they would not exceed three hundred thousand." When alone, he muttered to himself, "But at Kunyang, what I faced was the rotten timber of the new Xin dynasty."

"Yet now, in the north, it is the vigorously thriving Diwu Wei!"

Just as Liu Xiu was wallowing in his petty melancholy, a Palace Gentleman came to report that the "Libationer of the Imperial Academy" had come to see him.

This Libationer was named Qiang Hua, Liu Xiu's fellow lodger from his days studying at the Imperial Academy — his roommate, with whom he was on the closest terms. Although Qiang Hua studied the Confucian classics, he also had a keen interest in prophetic weft texts. Later, when Liu Xiu declared himself Emperor, he had relied heavily on the Red Cinnabar Talisman that Qiang Hua had timely presented to prop up the occasion.

Only then did Liu Xiu collect himself and have the man shown in.

Qiang Hua entered and paid his respects to Liu Xiu. Liu Xiu saw that he was much thinner than the last time they had met. When he thought it over carefully, it had been more than half a year since he had seen this old classmate. He had heard Qiang Hua had gone traveling to places like Kuaiji — why had he come back today?

"Your Majesty." Though Qiang Hua was weary, his voice carried a trace of excitement. "Your servant heard that in the mountains of Kuaiji there are many ancient books that escaped the Qin dynasty's burning of the texts, and so I went to search for them. And indeed, your servant found one!"

At any other time, Liu Xiu, who was rather fond of Confucian scholarship, would have been very happy to discuss it with him. But now his mind held only affairs of state — how could he have the heart to debate the classics? He was just thinking of how to send Qiang Hua away when Qiang Hua drew an ancient bamboo slip from his bosom and offered it up with both hands. "This is the Apocryphon of the Classic of Filial Piety, an apocryphal text from the Warring States. It records deeds of Confucius never seen before. Your Majesty must read it!"

"We are tired." Liu Xiu still showed no interest. He merely smiled and said, "You may briefly read a passage aloud for us to hear."

"Yes!"

Qiang Hua, with great earnestness, began recounting what was recorded on the ancient slip.

"In the fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu, Confucius dreamed at night that he was among three locust trees, where a red smoky vapor arose. Startled awake, he then called upon Zigong, Zixia, and the others, and they all went together to observe."

"When Confucius and the others drove their cart northwest of Qufu and passed the street of the Fan clan, they saw a woodcutter who had tied up a strange beast, wounding its front left foot, and had covered it with bundled firewood."

"Confucius then called the woodcutter over and asked his name."

"The woodcutter said, 'My surname is Chisong, my courtesy name Shiqiao, and my given name Shouji. Today, on my way home, I saw a beast like a milu deer, with a sheep's head and a horn on top, flesh at the horn's tip. It was running west, so I chased and caught it.'"

"Confucius looked at it and said, 'It is a qilin!'"

The story so far was similar to Confucius capturing the qilin in the Zuo Tradition, but what came after — even a man as learned as Liu Xiu had never heard anything like it!

Qiang Hua read on: "The woodcutter lifted the firewood, and beneath it the qilin looked at Confucius. Confucius hastened over, stroked its ear, and shed tears, lamenting that it, like himself, was born at the wrong time. The qilin cried softly, likewise shedding tears, and then it spat out three scrolls of writing…"

"Confucius unrolled the scrolls and read them. He saw they were three cun wide and eight cun long, each scroll containing twenty-four characters. They were heavenly writings!"

As Qiang Hua spoke, Liu Xiu's attention was gradually drawn in. Seeing him pause, Liu Xiu pressed him: "These three scrolls of qilin heavenly writings that Confucius beheld — what did they say?"