Chapter 62: Subduing the Slaves and Submitting to Them

Ever since Xuan Biao was old enough to understand things, he had followed his father as they moved from place to place — not to flee disaster or enemies, but to flee official appointment.

His father, Xuan Bing, courtesy name Jugong, had cultivated lofty integrity from youth and was renowned throughout the Three Adjuncts. He had even entered the capital to serve as a minor official, but during the Aidi and Pingdi reigns of the former dynasty, seeing the Wang clan monopolize power with signs of rebellion and disorder, he resigned his post.

According to the fashion of the times, when such a man resigned, it often drew an even higher-level summons. Sure enough, an official of the two-thousand-bushel rank sent men to appoint Xuan Bing as a bureau clerk, but Xuan Bing claimed illness and refused to serve.

After Wang Mang supplanted the Han and founded the Xin Dynasty, he needed renowned figures from across the realm to adorn his court. Hearing of Xuan Bing's reputation, he specially dispatched an envoy to nominate him as Filial and Incorrupt. Xuan Bing simply took his family and fled, going into hiding in Xiuling County, the most remote part of the commandery.

But they were still found. Fortunately, the Grand Governor of the commandery, Zhang Zhan, was a good man. After sending men to summon him once more to no avail, he did not make things difficult for him.

"You misunderstand. I have not come on behalf of the commandery or county to summon Lord Xuan."

Diwu Lun waved for the Deer Bailiff and the others who had guided him to go back. Even his attendants waited below the plateau. He walked forward alone, came before Xuan Biao, and said in a low voice, "What's more, if not for the government forcing me with bows and blades, I would not want to be an official either. Do not do to others what you would not wish done to yourself — Diwu Lun understands this principle well enough."

Xuan Biao stared blankly. "Diwu Boyu, the man who declined four times and yielded twice?"

That number would drive a compulsive obsessive mad. Diwu Lun had no idea whether he could ever round it out to five declinations and five yieldings in this lifetime.

Setting aside the outcome, Xuan Bing's approach and Diwu Lun's were exactly the same. The only difference was that the former genuinely rejected serving as an official of the Xin Dynasty, while Diwu Lun was holding out for the right price, waiting for the right moment to act.

But Xuan Biao did not understand this point and believed Diwu Lun's words. His attitude toward him improved considerably. Hearing further that a "former acquaintance" of his father had sent him to pay a visit, he grew even warmer, and led the way, bringing Diwu Lun up onto the plateau.

The millet and wheat along the path were wilted; the harvest did not seem good. Farmers leaning on their tools in rough, simple clothes watched Diwu Lun from both sides of the road, speaking to one another in the local dialect, and their words fell upon Diwu Lun's ears.

On the plateau stood a few simple rammed-earth cave dwellings. An old man in his fifties, dressed no differently from a farmer, sat under the eaves teaching several children to weave straw sandals with stalks. The straw bent and twisted in his hands with great skill.

"That is my father."

Seeing Xuan Biao bring a guest up onto the plateau, Xuan Bing rose to his feet, wiped his hands on the front of his robe, and cupped them in salute toward Diwu Lun — the courtesy of a Confucian scholar remained.

Diwu Lun bore no inexplicable ill will toward recluses like Xuan Bing. In these times, no one had it easy. To be able to hide deep in the mountains for twenty years as if it were a single day, tilling the fields with one's own hands, content with cultivating oneself alone, and never going out to join the ranks of man-eaters and human-devouring tigers — that was already quite admirable.

Besides, Diwu Lun himself was in a state where he might resign from office and flee at any moment.

After following Xuan Bing into the cave dwelling, he saw that the interior was extremely plain. A patched and mended cloth quilt was folded neatly. All the vessels were earthenware, but they had been scrubbed very clean.

Diwu Lun stated the purpose of his visit: "At the behest of my master, Master Yang Ziyun, I have come to see you, Elder Xuan. This place is remote and lacks medicine. My teacher asked me to bring some along on the way."

Xuan Bing's face filled with melancholy. "It has been nearly twenty years since we last met. Is the elder Ziyun still well?"

Diwu Lun shook his head. This year, Yang Xiong had often been bedridden with lingering illness. Coupled with his leg injury, even walking with a cane beyond the village gate had become difficult. After all, he was already seventy-two, and his Heaven-allotted span was likely drawing near. Diwu Ba, however, was the same age as Yang Xiong and still full of vigor.

Perhaps sensing that his own end was approaching, Yang Xiong had thought of certain old friends and sent Diwu Lun to see Xuan Bing. The two had once associated and traveled together in Chang'an.

It happened that Xuan Biao came in carrying an earthenware vessel to pour water for Diwu Lun. Hearing the conversation, his expression changed, and his tone instantly turned cold.

"I took you for a lofty gentleman. I never imagined you were a disciple of Yang Xiong. Father, why be so courteous? Let me drive him out."

Xuan Bing was unruffled. "Hold your tongue, boy. What do you know?"

Xuan Biao was defiant. "I have heard that when Father went into seclusion, he invited Yang Xiong, but Yang Xiong could not bear to part with his official salary and did not go with you."

"When I went to Chang'an to buy medicine, I even heard people singing… 'Only the lonely man throws himself from the tower; he who loved purity and quiet forged mandate omens.' With conduct like Yang Xiong's, he is nothing but a hypocrite. Like master, like disciple — no wonder you declined and yielded several times, yet still ended up an official!"

It was true that Yang Xiong had a dark past. Diwu Lun himself had initially misunderstood the old man.

But after spending time with him, he discovered that Yang Xiong had indeed been wronged. His "Denouncing Qin and Praising the New" had been written in complete sincerity — after all, at the time, Wang Mang was still a "sage." He never forged any mandate omen, and his leap from the tower was an act of desperation, seeking only death to avoid humiliation.

In the end, he did not die, only broke a leg, but suffered a social death in Chang'an. When others made up songs about him, he could only remain silent.

In Diwu Lun's eyes, Yang Xiong's aspirations reached higher than the heavens, but his fate was thinner than paper. He had once written a lament for Qu Yuan, yet did not approve of Qu Yuan's resistance and death. He often told Diwu Lun things like: "When the gentleman finds his moment, he acts greatly; when he does not, he becomes a dragon or a serpent. Preserving one's life through wisdom is better than endangering oneself."

Thus, though Yang Xiong was discontented with court politics, he only dared mutter behind closed doors, never daring to cry out in denunciation. Still less would he break with it as Xuan Bing had. Instead, he chose to hide in the marketplace, drifting through life in a daze.

He was simply an ordinary man who grew more timid and fearful of trouble the older he got.

But a piece of jade with many flaws is still jade.

What was more, he was, after all, Diwu Lun's teacher.

Diwu Lun cast a sidelong glance at Xuan Biao. "I am certainly no lofty gentleman. But from what you say, you wish not only to be a recluse, but also a righteous martyr?"

Xuan Biao said, "Indeed! To tread the path of righteousness through peril, to keep the same integrity in life and death — that is my wish!"

Diwu Lun laughed. "In that case, the reason you followed Lord Xuan into seclusion must also be discontent with the court, yes?"

"And here you till the fields, singing things like 'the sage and wise go unrecognized,' singing from night till dawn, from dawn till night. Can singing make this world any better?"

"When denouncing Master Ziyun, you are so fierce and unyielding. Why, then, do I not see you channel that indignation to follow the example of men like Zhai Yi, raising a banner and marching to a righteous death?"

"Since you dare not, why mock someone for fleeing fifty paces when you yourself have fled a hundred?"

Xuan Biao had not expected Diwu Lun to be so eloquent. Caught off guard, he was momentarily speechless.

Diwu Lun added at last, "What's more, since you do not approve of my teacher, why were you singing his rhapsody while plowing just now? Did you ask my permission?"

Xuan Biao was stunned. "That was a rhapsody by Yang Xiong? Is it not a ballad my father hums every day?"

"It is indeed a rhapsody by Yang Ziyun — his 'Refutation of the Li Sao.' He gave it to me when I decided to go into seclusion, to admonish me not to emulate Qu Yuan and lightly throw away my life."

Xuan Bing bade Xuan Biao sit down and said with earnest gravity, "Biao'er, people's temperaments differ. To act or not to act — each has his own suitable path. Such things cannot be forced."

"Some have a resolve as hard as metal and stone, crushing tyranny and violence."

"Some harbor frost and snow in their hearts and are content with minor integrity."

"And there are those who bind themselves to friends and companions, living in reclusion far from the world."

"But no matter what one does, none of it can be called truly accomplished or perfect, for it does nothing to remedy the world's affairs. It only ensures that one does not wallow in the mire with the rest. The world's affairs are complex. You, boy, cannot paint everything with one brush. What you desire for yourself, do not impose upon others either."

Xuan Bing said, "It is true that I am obstinate and uncompromising, but Ziyun follows the Middle Way. To call him a hypocrite and a thief of virtue is to insult him. Apologize to Boyu at once."

Scolded by his father, Xuan Biao could only bow reluctantly to Diwu Lun.

After sending his son out, Xuan Bing used a crude brush and a poplar-wood board to write a letter in reply.

"Please deliver this to Master Yang, Boyu."

"Tell him that Xuan Bing can still eat his fill. Though life is somewhat poor and hard, I find joy in it. Master Yang, on the other hand, should drink less wine and eat more vegetables."

At the end, he looked at Diwu Lun and smiled. "To have a disciple like Boyu is a blessing for Ziyun in his old age."

Diwu Lun had taken quite a liking to Xuan Bing. He rose to take his leave, but before departing, he turned his head and said, "Those farmers who help you and your son till the fields — from their accents, I gather they are not locals, but rather… refugees from the border commanderies, are they not?"

Xuan Bing's expression changed. He merely rose and bowed deeply to Diwu Lun with clasped hands, lowering his head, which did not easily bend. "Just now, my son was ignorant and offended you, Boyu. If you wish to report me for the crime of harboring border folk, even if the punishment is public execution, Xuan Bing will go to his death without flinching."

"But I beg you, spare my son, and spare those refugees from the frontier. Who would willingly abandon their home and native land, if not driven by desperation?"

Diwu Lun laughed. "You misunderstand, Lord Xuan. I intend to do nothing at all. The commandery Grand Governor, Lord Zhang, is a good official, and he would never condemn you for this."

"I only ask in passing — Elder Xuan has lived long in the north of the commandery. Could you tell me properly about the border refugees fleeing south?"

……

By the start of the eighth month, Diwu Lun had already concluded his journey through the north of the commandery and returned to the city of Changling, the seat of Liewei Commandery.

And when Zhang Zhan asked him what he had seen and heard on this trip, Diwu Lun spoke out his worries.

"Huan County (the Han's Zhaidao County), Xiuling County, and Qiqiang County (the Han's Qiyuan County) lie tucked away in a corner, bordering Zengshan Commandery (Shang Commandery) and Weirong Commandery (Beidi Commandery). Their populations are sparse, their land barren. I made an inspection tour by order of the commandery governor, and to my surprise I saw border refugees fleeing south from the north. According to the locals, this has been going on for months, and the numbers are not small — by no means isolated cases."

"The border folk have begun moving south again?" Zhang Zhan was startled. The local counties and townships had not reported a single word of this. Had Diwu Lun not seen it with his own eyes, he would have found it rather hard to believe.

And the reason he said "again" was that a similar scene had unfolded several years before.

It must be said that ever since the time of Han Emperor Xuan, the Xiongnu in the north had become nominal vassals of the Great Han. Several chanyus, Huhanye among them, had even journeyed to Chang'an in person to pay court to the Han Son of Heaven and receive seals from Han officials. The frontier had kept the peace for a full sixty-year cycle.

That lasted until Wang Mang supplanted the Han and resolved to reclaim the old seals and downgrade the Xiongnu's rank and status, making them no longer guests but subjects. After that, Wang Mang, addicted to renaming things, decided that inner and outer must be equal, and changed the Xiongnu chanyu's title as well: he changed it to "Surrendered Slave Submissive."

Coupled with entanglements in the Western Regions, the Xiongnu chanyu finally broke with the Central Plains, declaring that he recognized only the Liu family emperors — what sort of thing did Wang Mang count as? War flared again between north and south. On a frontier that had seen no fighting for several generations, Xiongnu raiding parties appeared once more, breaking through two commanderies in succession and carrying off the heads of their chief officials.

To say nothing else, Wang Mang's attitude toward the outside was extremely hardline. He immediately declared war on the Xiongnu, mustered a great army of three hundred thousand men, divided them among twelve generals to command, and sent them out by separate routes to chastise the northern caitiffs.

Zhang Zhan sighed with feeling. "Chastise, they called it, yet in truth the twelve route armies never even went beyond the frontier. They merely reached the border commanderies and garrisoned there, guarding against Xiongnu incursions."

The Xiongnu themselves were in fact not stable internally, and their memories of being trampled by Han troops ran deep. Seeing how numerous the Xin troops were, they did not dare move south for the time being — yet the Xin Dynasty's two to three hundred thousand troops remained permanently stationed on the frontier just the same.

This was the greatest expense in the court's finances. Wang Mang had once been unable to sustain it and wanted to withdraw the troops, but as soon as the great army left, the Xiongnu swept back in again. Wang Mang felt he would lose face, so the garrisons remained as before.

Diwu Lun said, "With so many men, the frontier surely cannot supply their food and clothing?"

Zhang Zhan said, "Indeed. Grain transferred from the Guanzhong region was naturally not enough. Food and clothing all had to be drawn from the locality. Bing Province and You Province were never wealthy to begin with, yet now they must supply so many men and horses. The granaries are exhausted, the common people worn and broken. Add to that the fact that wherever armies lodge, thorns grow. The various generals could not restrain their troops, so harassment grew worse by the day, and the border folk suffered unbearably."

"On top of that, in the first year of Tianfeng there was a great famine along the border — people ate one another, and grain was dearer than in Guanzhong. Border folk and deserters banded together in groups of several thousand to become bandits. Though the court dispatched troops to suppress them, some still shifted south to the various commanderies seeking to survive. Quite a few came to our Liewei Commandery as well. The powerful families took the chance to seize them as slaves. So the court issued another decree, forbidding officials and commoners from harboring border folk on pain of public execution. Those caught were often beaten and sent back to their native registers."

This had happened in the first and second years of Tianfeng. After that, relations between the Xiongnu and the Xin Dynasty had somewhat recovered. The fighting stopped for a time, and the garrisons along the Great Wall were successively recalled. Now several years had passed, and refugees from the northern border were surging forth once again. What did this portend?

Zhang Zhan had his misgivings. "Last year the Xiongnu chanyu passed away, and his younger brother the Left Worthy Prince succeeded him. This year he even sent envoys to Chang'an to offer tribute and sue for a marriage alliance. By all reason, the two states should not be at war."

Diwu Lun said, "This humble clerk interrogated the fleeing border folk in all three counties. They said only that their farmland lay waste and the harvests failed, that they could not go on living and had no choice but to come south. But for them to cross a thousand li and reach the borders of Liewei, one can well imagine that even more must have been intercepted in Shang Commandery and Beidi. If this goes on, I fear it will become a hidden calamity!"

If the source was not stopped up, these frontier refugees would become, beyond the commandery's powerful families and freeholding farmers, a new external force…

At this, Diwu Lun was in truth secretly pleased. He directly requested the assignment. "Rather than let them scatter and drift, or be taken in by powerful families, it would be better for the authorities to step in, settle the refugees in the northern counties of the commandery to open up wasteland, and give them a path to survival. Secondly, it would also increase the commandery's registered households — a sound policy that serves both ends. As Households Section Clerk, I oversee matters of household registers, fields, and dwellings. Let me share the commandery governor's cares!"

Diwu Lun very much wanted to secure this task, but Zhang Zhan did not take it to heart. "A trifling matter like this — one postal inspector is more than equal to it. Why should Boyu go in person?"

"What is more, there is a far more important matter in the commandery that no one but you can handle!"

Zhang Zixiao said with a smile, "After the autumn harvest, I intend to extend your family's sound policies — such as the charity granaries and charity funds — across the entire commandery! You, Boyu, shall take charge of it!"

……

PS: Begging for recommendation tickets.