Chapter 64: The Grand Marshal

Diwu Lun wasn't sure whether he felt delight or dread when he saw Ma Yuan's letter.

Unlike his daughter's graceful script, Ma Wenyuan's clerical calligraphy was written with a firm reverse-tip stroke, blending round and square forms, and even betraying a hint of unruliness.

The letter first recounted his and Wan Xiu's flight after leaving Xiliu Post — a journey that must have been quite arduous, yet Ma Yuan described it with great romanticism: galloping wildly beneath the moonlight, free and untrammeled; using their martial skills and archery along the way to easily hunt wild beasts, skin them, and barter for grain; brawling with drunkards in a tavern in the rough-and-tumble Weirong Commandery (Beidi Commandery), and in the end, after fighting, becoming friends and even picking up a junior sidekick.

Riding northwest like this all the way, they entered the vast, untamed borderlands and finally settled in Tewu County.

"Tewu — that is the former Fuping County."

Ma Yuan had a herdsman friend there he could rely on. West of the thatched hut where they stayed, beyond the clear waters of the Yellow River, one could gaze far off at the Great Wall and Beiyi Mountain (Helan Mountain).

"That mountain sprawls for hundreds of li, its cinnabar cliffs and emerald walls towering and steep. Its upper slopes are thick with blue-green grass, and seen from afar, it resembles a gallant steed — a true man ought to ride such a horse!"

Diwu Lun rubbed his chin. Ride a mountain? What a true man ought to ride was surely a different kind of "mare," wasn't it?

Ma Yuan, weary of traveling, stayed there helping his friend raise cattle and sheep. Occasionally, he and Wan Xiu would don masks and ride to neighboring counties to punish the wicked and champion the good. Winter passed and spring came; Ma Yuan was already striking in appearance, and with Wan Xiu's uncommon skills, the two earned a modest local reputation. As time went on, refugees and deserters kept coming from all directions to join them, and by the time he wrote the letter, Ma Yuan had several dozen households under him.

"Several dozen households? That's several hundred people."

Diwu Lun didn't know what to say — Diwu Hamlet had only about that many people! Sure enough, a sharp awl like Ma Yuan would pierce through any sack it was put in.

"Just like me." Diwu Lun felt a little sheepish saying this.

Ma Yuan ended by expressing his hope of meeting Diwu Lun again to talk.

Diwu Lun set down the silk letter. From Ma Yuan's description, he could close his eyes and picture it — the wild west, a lawless land on the empire's fringe.

Snow-capped mountains gleaming white, dense forests lush and green, grasslands stretching to the horizon, great rivers sparkling and clear, and of course, desolate wilderness and bustling towns, while beyond the Great Wall lay rolling seas of sand.

Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu were thus living a life on the frontier of robbing the rich to aid the poor, freely avenging grievances, utterly shameless and without restraint.

For a moment, Diwu Lun felt a touch of envy. That kind of life suited Ma Yuan perfectly. He carefully put away the silk letter and said with a smile, "Being a wild frontier ranger — not bad at all."

In early September, the autumn tax assessment that had ruined many commoner households finally concluded. Diwu Lun, on Zhang Zhan's orders, went into Chang'an to deliver the tax accounts to the Minister of Agriculture (Grand Minister of Agriculture).

After entering the city with practiced ease, Diwu Lun discovered that in the two months he'd been away, the austerity campaign in Chang'an had already ended. Noble officials were once again doing as they pleased, paying fastidious attention to their attire and carriage decorations.

"Sure enough, just a passing fad of a campaign."

Diwu Lun always put private matters before public ones. He did not go to the Minister of Agriculture's residence, but instead headed to Xuanming Ward. Every time he entered Chang'an, he would stay a day or two to visit his teacher Yang Xiong, and this time was no exception.

Xuanming Ward was the same as ever; the only change was Yang Xiong's house.

In the past, Yang's residence had been the most dilapidated house in the ward. The courtyard walls and gate had gone unrepaired for years, the roof was thick with weeds, and stepping inside, one saw a house bare of anything but the four walls.

Now, however, it had a completely new look. Diwu Lun had sent men to whitewash the house and courtyard, and the gate was coated with fine black lacquer. Pushing the gate open and entering, underfoot was no longer pitted rammed earth, but a flat surface of a darker hue, hard and solid with every step.

This was a new venture of Diwu Lun's household. Calling it cement wasn't quite right — "lime mortar" was more fitting.

The lime mine previously confiscated from the Di Si clan by the authorities had now, through his maneuvering, fallen into the hands of the Diwu clan. Diwu Lun had men fire the lime, then grind the leftover coal slag from coal balls into a fine powder and mix them together. The resulting product was very similar in performance to cement, and since it used waste material, it was extremely cheap and easy to obtain.

Using this stuff for construction would definitely be shoddy work, but for paving floors, it was more than adequate. In the summer, Diwu Lun had feigned an invitation for Yang Xiong to visit Liewei Commandery, but instead sent men to pave the entire small courtyard house with cement flooring, knock down the steps and replace them with gentler ramps, and pry out the door thresholds.

When Yang Xiong returned, he found the floors of his home had become wonderfully smooth. Diwu Lun had also prepared a small four-wheeled cart for him by the gate — much like the one Zhuge Liang rides in Romance of the Three Kingdoms — along with a complimentary feather fan.

From then on, Yang Xiong no longer had to endure the pain of hobbling in and out on a cane, always at risk of tumbling into a ditch.

This matter moved old Yang Xiong deeply. The wooden four-wheeled cart needed someone to push it from behind, so Diwu Lun left two servants to help his senior fellow apprentice Hou Ba look after Yang Xiong's daily life. The house was also stocked with wine and meat, but strangely enough, once wine was freely available, Yang Xiong, who had once loved drink more than life itself, no longer craved it so much.

"With a disciple like this, how can this old man spend his days in a stupor?" Yang Xiong felt great comfort in his old age. Looking at Hou Ba and Diwu Lun, he could not help but think of his two beloved sons who had died young. Spurred by this, Yang Xiong picked up his brush again, determined to finish his unfinished works.

This became a much-praised story in Chang'an. Although Yang Xiong's popular reputation in the city was not particularly good, Diwu Lun's respect for his teacher and devotion to the Way earned him praise from contemporaries. It also incidentally boosted the cement business — the buyers were mostly powerful families, and Diwu Lun, without any scruples, sold this cheap material as a luxury good. Whatever happened next year, he'd make his profit first.

Today, just as he reached the courtyard gate, he saw another carriage parked in the stable.

"A visitor?"

Diwu Lun was surprised. This was odd. Ever since Yang Xiong had completely lost influence and his office, those in power had cut off all contact with him. Only a few people like Huan Tan still associated with him, but Huan Tan always came on foot and rarely even rode in a carriage.

Looking again at the carriage's decorative fittings — the canopy was set high. The visitor was certainly no commoner.

Stepping into the courtyard, he saw Yang Xiong speaking with a short, middle-aged man. They sat facing each other on mats, and judging by the way Yang Xiong bowed deeply when making a salute, the other man's status was not low.

"Master."

Diwu Lun called out and stepped forward to prostrate himself.

"Boyu, you've come."

Yang Xiong was delighted to see Diwu Lun and said with a smile to the man across from him, "Erudite, this is my disciple."

The man turned his head. He was past fifty, with a small, sharp-featured head, the whites and pupils of his eyes clearly distinct, his gaze steady and unwavering. After scrutinizing Diwu Lun, he smiled and said, "I have long heard of the filial and righteous Diwu lad. Today I finally meet him."

He then pointed at the cement floor and Yang Xiong's wheelchair and said, "Respecting one's teacher and revering the Way — this is clear evidence."

"Boyu, didn't you wish to read works on military strategy?" Yang Xiong made the introduction. "This gentleman is the greatest master of military tactics in the realm since the Marquis of Huaiyin, Han Xin."

"The current Grand Marshal — Yan Erudite!"

The Xin Dynasty's official hierarchy included eleven Upper Dukes: the Four Supports, the Three Excellencies, and the Four Generals.

Among them, the Three Excellencies were the Grand Marshal, the Grand Minister of Works, and the Grand Chancellor — all officials of the ten-thousand-bushel rank.

This Grand Marshal Yan You was someone Diwu Lun had long heard of while in Chang'an. Back when Zhai Yi of Dong Commandery rallied over a hundred thousand men to oppose Wang Mang, Yan You had accompanied Wang Yi on campaign, offering counsel and strategies that helped the imperial forces sweep the rebels aside like dry twigs and utterly crush them.

After the Xin Dynasty was established, Yan You, as a founding meritorious minister, was enfeoffed as the Count of Wujian, and later became the "General Who Subdues the Hui."

Now, after Wang Mang usurped the Han, he dispatched the Five-Authority Envoys across the realm to proclaim the might of the Xin, and demoted all the kings of the surrounding peoples to marquises.

Those sent north went to the Xiongnu court, presented the chanyu with a seal, altered the Han seal inscription, changing "imperial seal" to "stamp," and further changed his title to "Subjugated Slave Submitting to Service," seeking to treat him as a domesticated beast. The Xiongnu chanyu revolted.

Those sent south crossed beyond the frontiers, passed through Yizhou, and demoted the King of Gouding of the southwestern Yi to marquis. The King of Gouding rebelled.

Those sent west went to the Western Regions and demoted all thirty-six kings to marquises. The various states of the Western Regions grew disaffected, abandoned the Central Plains, and once again submitted to the Xiongnu.

Diwu Lun could only vent: "What kind of Five-Authority Envoys are these? They should be renamed the War Envoys!"

Those sent east went to the two states of Fuyu and Goguryeo.

Originally, Goguryeo had been established only recently and was merely enfeoffed as a marquis by the Han, so there was no title to demote. But when Wang Mang was planning his attack on the Xiongnu, he conscripted Goguryeo and the Mo people to send troops. Instead, after the Goguryeo men entered the passes, they allied with the Yemo and revolted, killing the Grand Governor of Liaoxi. Wang Mang was furious and ordered Yan You to campaign against Goguryeo.

The Xin Dynasty's wars against the surrounding barbarians were almost all defeats. The sole victory was on Yan You's front: he lured and beheaded the Goguryeo Marquis Gao Zhumeng, swiftly ending the conflict.

Although the Mo people's raids on the northeastern border remained difficult to contain, Yan You had at least salvaged a shred of dignity for the court. Wang Mang then renamed Goguryeo as "Xiajuli," and this tiny state could only swallow its rage in silence.

For this achievement, Yan You became Grand Marshal, one of the Three Excellencies — nominally the supreme military commander of the realm, acclaimed as a renowned general of the age, equal in fame to Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi.

Yan You was deep in conversation with Yang Xiong, and Diwu Lun did not wish to intrude. He stood watching from a distance with his senior fellow apprentice Hou Ba, tilting his head to ask, "The Grand Marshal has a friendship with the Master?"

Hou Ba said, "The Grand Marshal's ancestral home is also in Shu — he is a descendant of Chuli Zi of the Qin dynasty. Boyu, have you heard of Yan Junping?"

Yan Junping lived during the Yuandi and Chengdi reigns of the former dynasty, a famed scholar of Shu. He was no Confucian but a Daoist, author of the 'Commentary on the Laozi' and the 'Essential Principles of the Laozi,' over a hundred thousand words in total.

Yan Junping was also Yang Xiong's teacher and benefactor — which, by reckoning, would make him Diwu Lun's grand-teacher.

Hou Ba said, "The Grand Marshal is a distant kinsman of Yan Junping, and that is how he and the Master became acquainted."

But it must have been a shallow acquaintance, for Diwu Lun had never once seen him visit. When Yang Xiong was in dire straits, this Grand Marshal had not been seen to lift a finger to help.

Yet now, as Yan You and Yang Xiong talked on, their emotions rose and fell — one moment impassioned, the next despondent.

After a short while, Yan You rose to leave. Yang Xiong made to see him off, and Diwu Lun hurried over to push the Master's wheelchair.

Before leaving the Yang residence, Yan You fixed his eyes — black and white, sharp and clear — on Diwu Lun and asked him, "You wish to study the art of war?"

After Diwu Lun assented, Yan You asked again, "Why do you wish to study it?"

That was truly a question that struck straight at the soul. Diwu Lun could hardly say, "I want to study the art of war so I can later rebel against your Emperor!"

He could only answer ambiguously: "The four barbarians raid the borders, the realm knows no peace, and urgent dispatches race without pause. How can a true man linger long among brush and inkstone? I would follow the example of Fu Jiezi and Chen the Shooter and go to the nation's aid in its hour of peril."

"Lies." Yan You did not care for that. Shaking his head, he said, "Now it is not the four barbarians who trespass against the Central Realm, but the Central Realm that wantonly bullies the four barbarians. What can bring peace to the frontier is by no means blade and soldier."

This Grand Marshal, it turned out, held an anti-war heart. Yan You spoke again to Yang Xiong: "Ziyun, if even your disciple cannot see this point clearly, he truly does need to study the art of war. Very well — when you have leisure, come to the Grand Marshal's residence. I have the 'Wu Sunzi,' the 'Methods of the Sima,' the 'Six Secret Teachings,' and others, which I can lend you to read."

Diwu Lun feigned great delight and accepted. With the coming chaos, he would certainly have to lead troops into battle one day — he could hardly rely on the crude micromanagement from playing "low-end strategy games" in his past life to conquer the realm. Military texts could not teach specific tactics, but they could elevate one's strategic acumen and understanding of warfare — he could not afford to neglect them.

After Yan You had left, Diwu Lun asked Yang Xiong, still in his wheelchair, with curiosity: what had Yan You come for?

Yang Xiong did not hide it from him: "Earlier, the old Chanyu of the Xiongnu died, and the new Chanyu sent envoys to sue for peace and a marriage alliance, did he not?"

"The Son of Heaven has dispatched the Marquis of Amity, Wang Xi — nephew to the Ninghu Yanzhi (Wang Zhaojun) — to escort the Xiongnu envoys into Chang'an. Court policy toward the Xiongnu may shift, so the Grand Marshal made a special visit to consult me."

"On Xiongnu affairs, why consult the Master?"

Yang Xiong did not like the sound of that. Slapping the arm of his wheelchair, he said angrily, "You whelp, do you truly think this old man knows only how to drink wine and compose rhapsodies? You underestimate me far too much. Let me have you know: during the Chengdi and Aidi reigns, whenever there was any Xiongnu matter, Emperor Cheng and Emperor Aidi would invariably summon me for counsel!"

You're a Xiongnu expert too? Diwu Lun truly had not known Yang Xiong possessed this skill. The old man was a treasure trove.

Hou Ba, standing nearby, did know of it, and said, "In the fourth year of Jianping under Emperor Ai of the former dynasty (3 BC), the Xiongnu Chanyu sent a letter requesting to come to court. Some said that whenever the Xiongnu Chanyu came to pay court, no good ever came of it — for instance, in the Huanglong era under Emperor Xuan and the Jingning era under Emperor Yuan, after the Chanyu journeyed south, within a year or two both emperors passed away. Perhaps the Hu shamans had employed sorcery of cursing and suppression."

"At the time, Emperor Ai happened to be ill and was somewhat fearful, so he consulted the high ministers at court. They all believed there was no need to let the Chanyu enter the capital again — receiving him would waste the state treasury in any case, so they advised sending him back."

"But if that were done, the tributary ties and loose-rein vassalage between the Central Plains and the Xiongnu would surely rupture, and the flames of war might reignite along the frontier. At that time, the Master was a Gentleman of the Yellow Gate. He submitted a memorial of remonstrance, citing examples of war and peace between the Central Plains and the Xiongnu from the Zhou and Qin onward, and persuaded Emperor Ai to recall the Xiongnu envoys and grant the Chanyu's request to come to court."

Speaking of his proud achievement, Yang Xiong grew a little buoyant: "Indeed. Afterward, Emperor Ai bestowed upon this old man fifty bolts of silk and ten jin of gold."

But at this, old Yang Xiong suddenly stopped, for he remembered that all that money and silk had been spent on sending his two sons, who had died young, back to Shu for burial. A sorrowful thought.

And, strangely enough, after the Xiongnu Chanyu came to pay court, within two years Emperor Ai of Han did indeed pass away.

Diwu Lun, however, grew interested: "What did the Master say in that memorial? It must surely have been brilliantly written."

"I can't recall clearly."

Yang Xiong remembered perfectly well, but no longer wished to speak of it.

Hou Ba laughed. "I did copy the Master's memorial and kept it."

"Fetch it at once."

After Hou Ba retrieved the long-stored copy of the memorial, Yang Xiong leaned back in his wheelchair, eyes closed, basking in the sun, while Diwu Lun sat on the mat and began to read.

The entire piece was tightly reasoned, rich with classical and historical allusions, and displayed an extremely precise and thorough command of historical events, full of genuine insight — a masterful political essay.

And when he reached the next passage, Diwu Lun could not help but read it aloud.

"In times past we have butchered the walls of Dayuan, trampled the ramparts of the Wuhuan, probed the cliffs of the Goushen, swept through the camps of the Dangjie, cut down the banners of Joseon, and hauled down the flags of Nanyue!"

"Campaigns near at hand took no more than a month's labor; those far afield no more than two seasons' toil. Truly we plowed through their courts, swept clean their villages, established commanderies and counties in their place, and like clouds rolling away and a mat furled up, left no lingering calamity behind!"

Could this be the origin of the phrase "plow their courts and sweep their lairs"? In just a few short lines, the overwhelming spirit of the mighty Han at its zenith burst forth from the bamboo slips!

Diwu Lun set down the scroll and said, "Master, I like this passage."

Yang Xiong kept his eyes closed, but beneath his white beard, he could not suppress a proud smile — those were the glorious days of his prime, when his ambition found fulfillment.

"After the memorial was submitted, someone also wrote to tell this old man that they loved the spirit of that passage."

Diwu Lun laughed. "Don't tell me it was the State Preceptor again."

Yang Xiong shook his head.

Diwu Lun guessed again: "Could it have been Colonel Chen Tang — the one who took the head of Zhizhi Chanyu and proclaimed that those who offend the mighty Han, however distant, shall be put to death?"

"By that time, Colonel Chen had already passed away. It was, in fact, his bosom friend despite the difference in years."

Yang Xiong opened his eyes. The passion and dreams of old had scattered, leaving only a gaze full of melancholy, fallen into reality: "A man whose attitude toward the four barbarians was cut from the very same cloth as Colonel Chen's."

His voice drawn out in a long sigh, he said, "It was His Majesty the Emperor himself!"

PS: Begging for recommendation tickets.