Chapter 657: That Moon Was Eclipsed

It was the twelfth month of the ninth year of Wude in the Wei dynasty (AD 33), which was also the ninth year of Jianwu of the "Eastern Han" founded by Liu Xiu.

Jiangdu, the Eastern Han's "temporary imperial residence," was the city that later became Yangzhou, but the difference was that at this time, Jiangdu not only bordered the Yangtze River but was also not so far from the sea. Just over ten li east beyond the city walls, one could see a coastline full of mudflats and reefs.

It was the middle of the twelfth month. The dense, countless trees by the sea stood frozen stiff in the cold night. When the moon rose from the sea, it was like a white lotus flower floating up from the Dragon King's palace, illuminating this desolate beach and casting the sky above Jiangdu in a deep, still, congealed violet light, where the intermingling icy beams made the stars lose their luster.

Yet when the moon climbed to mid-sky, a strange thing happened: the full moon, brilliant as a silver platter, seemed to have been struck by a god's great axe, its edge showing a bizarre, missing piece.

At first, people thought it was covered by clouds, but the sky was clear for ten thousand li—where were any dark clouds? Then the gap slowly grew larger, spreading across half the moon, as if it were being bitten by a giant beast! The monster's sharp fangs and claws tore at the pitiful moon, destroying the ring and breaking the jade disk, threatening to devour it completely!

This was the sight Liu Xiu saw when he was hastily woken by the astronomy officials in the Jiangdu palace chambers.

The moon had already been more than half swallowed by the indescribable monster in the sky. The sky had turned pitch-black like coal dust, and it seemed that if no action was taken, the moon would vanish without a trace, disappearing forever in an instant!

Fortunately, Liu Xiu's small court had already experienced a similar event: on the last day of the third month of the seventh year of Jianwu (AD 31), a solar eclipse followed by a lunar eclipse had occurred, which was even more severe than this one. A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit, and Liu Xiu would not be so flustered this time.

Liu Xiu immediately gave an order to State Preceptor Qiang Hua, who was in charge of sacrifices, astronomy, and the five phases: "Swiftly summon the royal drum, order all officials to enter the palace, and follow me to rescue the moon!"

This was a record Qiang Hua had found in the Rites of Zhou: "To rescue the sun or moon, summon the royal drum." It meant that when a solar or lunar eclipse occurred, the Son of Heaven himself must beat the drum to drive away the monster devouring the moon.

Before long, all the palace officials had assembled. Except for those with official duties in the various departments, everyone else had to participate in the rescue ritual. They hurriedly changed into plain white garments, as if in mourning, and then gathered at the Altar of Heaven.

Liu Xiu had already donned his ceremonial robes, completed the procedures of avoiding the main hall, offering incense, and performing the three kneelings and nine kowtows of the rescue ritual. Then he personally beat the drum. For a time, the Jiangdu temporary residence was bustling with noise—anyone who didn't know better would have thought the Emperor was feasting and making music all night!

Beating the drum alone was not enough. Seeing that the moon had been completely swallowed and the surroundings were utterly dark, Liu Xiu handed the drumstick to the Grand Chancellor, who had hurried into the palace, and changed into military attire himself, taking up an arrow.

This was no ordinary arrow, but a "balanced arrow." The Rites of Zhou records how to rescue from solar and lunar disasters: "Rescue the sun with warped arrows, rescue the moon with balanced arrows..." The specially-made balanced arrow had equal weight at the front and back, so it flew steadily after being shot and had a longer range. The last time there were eclipses, Liu Xiu had personally gone to the "High Temple" in Jiangdu and asked the Exalted Emperor to consecrate it. Although two years had passed, it should still be efficacious.

Liu Xiu, having come from the ranks of the army, had not lost his old skills. He took up a red bow, drew the arrow, and pulled the string in one fluid motion. Turning to the northwest, he aimed at the moon, which was almost swallowed, leaving only a pitiful ring of light, and released his hand, letting the balanced arrow fly straight into the heavens!

And the bells and drums inside and outside the palace suddenly grew even louder: it turned out that the common people of Jiangdu, woken in alarm and spreading word that the heavenly dog was about to eat the moon, had also joined the ranks of "rescuing the moon." Men and women, young and old, all beat gongs and drums; those without them smashed roof tiles. And there were quite a few who knelt and wailed in the streets, hoping for the moon's return.

The most pitiful were the women of the city. Those who loved beauty, as long as they were not too poor, could more or less afford a bronze mirror. No one knew who spread the word: "Striking mirrors can rescue the moon." So, under the scolding of their husbands and fathers, they could only painfully hand over their beloved possessions, watching as their fine bronze mirrors were hurled heavily toward the moon, only to fall back down midway, striking the bricks with a crisp, clear clang of metal and stone!

To rescue the moon, the entire city—ruler, ministers, and commoners—went all out!

Strangely enough, right after Liu Xiu shot the balanced arrow, the lunar eclipse actually began to reverse! It was as if the unknown monster in the dark night had been struck by the sacred Son of Heaven's arrow, and in its pain, resentfully spat the moon back out.

After another quarter-hour, the moon returned to its original state, still hanging in the azure firmament. Its radiance was not diminished in the slightest by nearly falling into the monster's belly; it continued to shine for ten thousand li, casting down a blanket of cold white light.

Liu Xiu, still holding his bow and arrow, secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, Qiang Hua and the Han ministers who had hurried into the palace had already begun their flattery mode:

"Your Majesty personally beat the heavenly drum, its jade pendants ringing; you drew the bow full and shot the heavenly wolf!"

"Indeed! The balanced arrow flew like a serpent, making the heavenly dog's blood flow in torrents, its dim eyes wide with fear, retreating in pain to ransom back our father and mother's light."

"Indeed! That the bright moon can continue to shine upon the vast territory of the Great Han, never dimming for all eternity, is truly Your Majesty's meritorious virtue!"

Good heavens, for a moment, Liu Xiu was being placed shoulder-to-shoulder with Hou Yi, becoming the great hero who saved the world.

Yet Liu Xiu was not so optimistic. Instead, he solemnly said to the assembled ministers: "The poem says, 'The sun was eclipsed—what an ominous thing! That moon was dimmed, and this sun was dimmed... The sun and moon foretell misfortune, not following their proper course.' Following the disappearance of sun and moon in the seventh year of Jianwu, another lunar eclipse has occurred. State Preceptor, what omen is this?"

Qiang Hua found it somewhat difficult to speak directly for a moment. After a brief silence, he knew from the attitudes of the ancients in the Book of Songs and the Spring and Autumn Annals that a lunar eclipse was not a good phenomenon. And after the great Confucian Dong Zhongshu founded the theory of heaven-human induction, lunar eclipses gained an even clearer target: the rear palace!

According to the theory of the unity of heaven and man, the sun symbolized the sovereign ruler, i. e., "The sun is the essence of yang, the symbol of the ruler." The moon, opposite the sun, was "the essence of great yin." For the rear palace, the moon represented the Empress; for the court, the moon also represented the high ministers.

Therefore, in the Former Han, whenever a lunar eclipse was encountered, it was generally the rear palace or the high ministers who took the blame.

For example, during the reign of Emperor Cheng of Han, the realm suffered many disasters, and lunar eclipses actually occurred three times in a single year. The imperial clan members at court, represented by Liu Xiang, used this to fire cannons at the autocratic Grand General Wang Feng—who was Wang Mang's uncle—arguing that the Grand General's guidance of the government was unclear and he should step down.

The Wang family was no fool either. They spent a great deal of money hiring various opinion-shapers and learned elders to shift the blame, interpreting the lunar eclipses as a sign of the reigning Empress Xu's lack of virtue. It happened that Emperor Cheng was tiring of the old and infatuated with the Zhao Feiyan sisters, and the Empress had long failed to bear a child. So, going with the flow, he deposed the Empress. Empress Xu was pitifully relocated to the cold palace, while the Wang consort clan narrowly escaped disaster.

Now that a lunar eclipse had appeared again, by convention, someone still had to take the blame. But Empress Ma of the rear palace had already borne Liu Xiu two sons, the eldest of whom was named Crown Prince, and her imperial favor was quite stable. Moreover, she was the younger sister of Ma Wu, the "King of Minzhong," who had died in battle in Jingzhou. Although her brother was dead, politically she had instead gained the unanimous support of officials from both the Yingchuan and Nanyang factions. Qiang Hua would certainly not touch this bad luck.

Should the blame be directed at the high ministers? In the Eastern Han, the head of all officials was the Grand Chancellor. Qiang Hua glanced at Grand Chancellor Hou Ba, who had entered the palace, and found him already wiping sweat... The reason Hou Ba had managed to reach this position, aside from his surrendering Linhuai Commandery—which was key to Liu Xiu's entry into the southeast—was that Hou Ba had served through the Former Han, Xin, and Eastern Han dynasties and was thoroughly versed in statutes and institutions. He had contributed greatly to the House of Han's fledgling establishment in the southeast, and in matters like adapting to the farming seasons and encouraging agriculture and sericulture, he had done a decent job, being regarded by Liu Xiu as "my Xiao He."

In addition, Hou Ba was sufficiently obedient, so when the solar and lunar eclipses occurred two years prior and Hou Ba wanted to resign, Liu Xiu had not agreed. Poor Hou Ba had never imagined that this damned lunar eclipse would come so soon again!

Hou Ba was a clever man and probably realized that this matter could not implicate the Empress and cause upheaval in the rear palace. Trembling, he was about to request resignation, but unexpectedly, Liu Xiu had figured this out a step earlier. In front of everyone, he took up his bow and arrow and aimed it at himself, lamenting to heaven: "My virtue is thin, inviting this disaster; reproach is seen in the bright moon. I tremble with fear—what more can I say?"

Before the crowd could dissuade him, Liu Xiu had already used the arrowhead to cut off a lock of his own hair. He bowed at the Altar of Heaven, raising the hair with both hands toward the moon: "Yet the faults of the common people rest on me alone. Now I offer this hair in sacrifice, hoping that the August Heaven Emperor will not implicate my ministers and the common folk."

Then he admonished the assembled ministers: "Now we reflect on our transgressions, hoping to dispel this calamity. Let the relevant offices each fulfill their duties, obey the laws and statutes, and be gracious to the common people. Let all officials submit sealed memorials, holding nothing back. Those who submit letters shall no longer address me as 'Sage' in their memorials!"

"Last year, a general amnesty was granted for punishments. Let the Three Excellencies, the Nine Ministers, the Colonel-Director of the Retainers, the Provincial Governors, and the Commandery Governors each recommend one person of 'Worthy and Good' and one of 'Upright and Square,' sending them to the public carriage. I will examine and test them."

First, he took the blame entirely upon himself, sparing the ministers their embarrassment. Then, riding the momentum, he issued a general amnesty and rushed through a wave of recommendations, allowing the scions of powerful commandery families to send in another batch, thereby shutting their mouths and preventing anyone from taking the chance to spread rumors and influence public opinion.

Everything was handled perfectly. Naturally, Hou Ba and the others could not avoid another round of singing praises.

"Jie and Zhou blamed others, and their downfall was swift; Yu and Tang blamed themselves, and their rise was vigorous. With Your Majesty's benevolence and virtue, the Great Han will surely revive!"

And Qiang Hua, after holding back for a while, finally thought of a flawless excuse to shift the blame for Liu Xiu, and so he said: "Your Majesty possesses great virtue! Eclipses of the sun and moon must be caused by acts of lost virtue in the human realm. That being so, the realm is not yet unified. That Diwu brat has arrogantly proclaimed himself emperor, calling it the 'Five Virtues'; in the west, Gongsun Shu has also styled himself the White Emperor. Could this lunar eclipse be unrelated to the Great Han, and instead be because those two states—especially the false Wei—have misgoverned and failed to employ their good men?"

Qiang Hua's speculation this time was not wrong. When the lunar eclipse occurred tonight, in the northern city of Chang'an in Guanzhong, they had indeed done something that, in their view, constituted "failing to employ their good men."

Due to the time difference, the moon of Wei in Chang'an and that "moon of the Great Han" in Jiangdu were not exactly the same, but both saw the lunar eclipse occur. Yet the people of Chang'an were quite calm. They neither beat gongs and drums in desperate pleading, nor snatched women's bronze mirrors to throw around, hitting flowers and plants. Instead, in twos and threes, they gathered in their own courtyards, looking up from the moment the sky darkened, as if expecting something.

When the lunar eclipse actually occurred, all one hundred and sixty wards of Chang'an were filled with sighs of wonder. Of course, some were afraid, but more people were both startled and amazed.

"We've lived to a ripe old age, never thought we'd see such a strange event."

A lunar eclipse was not strange; what was strange was that someone had already posted notices in advance informing them of it, telling the people of Chang'an not to panic.

Saying they were not panicked was impossible. But as the lunar eclipse gradually ended without anyone "rescuing the moon," and the bright moon once again revealed her big round face to shine upon the world, the great stone in the hearts of the Chang'an people finally dropped. They sighed to one another:

"Does His Majesty the Emperor truly possess the Mandate of Heaven and divine powers? To actually predict a lunar eclipse a month in advance!"

On the star observation platform in Weiyang Palace, the hundred officials and assembled ministers had gathered. Unlike the Han ministers in Jiangdu, who acted as if they had lost their parents, beating drums and offering arrows, each using their imagination to shift blame for Liu Xiu, these people instead expressed their heartfelt admiration with rhythmic applause for the Emperor, who sat calmly behind his desk, and for Huan Tan, who had single-handedly observed, calculated, and predicted this lunar eclipse.

"Your Majesty! Grand Master Huan!"

"'That moon was eclipsed—it is but a constant thing.' We finally understand the meaning of this ancient poem!"

Compared to five years ago, Diwu Lun's beard had grown longer, but his temperament had not changed. On the surface, he looked composed, but inwardly he found it all very amusing and just wanted to wave his hand at the crowd and say:

"Everyone sit down. It's just a basic operation!"