Chapter 697: Where Can I Find a Great Mansion of a Thousand Rooms?

"Ziling is not a descendant of the Liu clan, so naturally you cannot understand."

Liu Xiu gestured for everyone to close the doors; alone in his bedchamber, he wanted to speak his heart to his best friend from days past.

From childhood, when they made offerings to the heroic spirits of past generations, the clan elders earnestly taught the glorious deeds of their ancestors. The blood of forebears flowed in their veins, and in every act and gesture they remembered who they were: scions of the Great Han imperial house!

"Though I cannot fully know His Majesty's heart, I can guess a part of it."

Zhuang Ziling said: "Back at the Imperial Academy in Chang'an, Your Majesty once spoke to me of your origins. Since Han Gao slew the white serpent, the Han mandate has endured over two hundred years, enfeoffing sons and younger brothers to serve as palisades. The eleven Han emperors enfeoffed more than sixty kings of the same surname; their kingdoms rose and fell swiftly, but the descendants who became marquises by birth numbered two or three hundred houses. Your Majesty is a descendant of the King of Changsha and the Marquis of Chongling."

Thus, by the end of the Former Han, those surnamed Liu across the realm numbered at least over a hundred thousand. Though cadet-branch descendants lost their marquisates after three to five generations, they could still inherit a sizable plot of land and become landlords, or receive preferential treatment in the recommendation system because of their imperial clan status, serving as officials for generations. These hundreds or thousands of families gradually localized, grew into powerful houses, and came to dominate their local districts.

Zhuang Ziling's own family was one of the four great powerful houses of Wuhui, so he knew perfectly well how such people lived.

"For you of the imperial clan, the house of Han is a great mansion."

Zhuang Ziling pointed to the traveling palace with its high beams and broad doors above them and said: "Despite the seven deaths and seven destructions at the end of the Former Han, despite the wind and rain battering it, so long as the court gave shelter, those surnamed Liu remained unmoved by the storm, secure as Mount Tai."

"Later, when Wang Mang usurped the Han, he initially treated the Liu surname generously, promising everything would remain as before. But once his power was secure, he issued an edict: all descendants of the Liu clan were barred from serving as senior officials in provinces and commanderies, their noble ranks were stripped, and they were all demoted to commoners!"

"For Your Majesty, the great house that once blocked the sun has collapsed. In this chaotic age, the wind howls fierce, bandits and wild beasts run rampant, black clouds churn dark, rain falls like tangled hemp, and the clan's cloth quilts are soaked through — yet you cannot even obtain an umbrella. If I stood in your place, I too would naturally long to rebuild the Han great mansion..."

Zhuang Ziling had laid bare Liu Xiu's every inner thought, but Liu Xiu refused to admit it and stubbornly retorted: "Ziling underestimates Liu Xiu!"

"You are right — the house of Han is indeed a great mansion. But it is not only a shelter for the Liu imperial clan; it is a dwelling place for the countless common people of the realm!"

With deep emotion, Liu Xiu reminisced about the Rule of Wen and Jing and the Revivals of Zhao and Xuan — eras he had never personally experienced — when there was peace within and without, and the five grains ripened abundantly. He also yearned for the martial glory of Emperor Wu's reign, when Han might was displayed beyond the borders and Han virtue spread far and wide!

"Now the Former Han was usurped and extinguished by Wang Mang many years ago, yet the barbarian tribes — Man, Yi, Rong, and Di — still mostly call the registered households of the Central States 'Han people,' and the common folk likewise call themselves so. Thus at the end of the Xin dynasty, all under heaven longed for Han virtue and supported the Liu surname. It was riding this tide of fortune, and also answering the portents of the prophetic charts, that I ascended the throne and proclaimed myself emperor. Thus above I accord with the heart of Heaven and Earth, below I have won the allegiance of the common people. As the Son of Han, Liu Xiu's very purpose is, in this age when men lead beasts to devour men, to rebuild a great house to shelter all the hungry, weary, wounded, and ailing men of the realm."

Liu Xiu was quite confident in his governance of the southeast: he had preserved the peace of two provinces, swept away the brutal Red Eyebrows and the warlords, and from the four great surnames of Wuhui above to the common folk below, all had a path to survival — this was proof enough that the Eastern Han was the righteous side.

"That is why Liu Xiu hopes that one day, this great mansion can be extended to the Central Plains! Pacify all under heaven, return to the old capital, so that within, the multitudes may beam with joy and the age of good governance reappear — O glorious Han, rise and shake open the heavens! Without, drive out the Xiongnu and Western Qiang, so the four seas receive grace — O radiant royal army, cross the mountain passes!"

Liu Xiu said earnestly: "If that day truly comes, whether clansmen of the same surname or meritorious officials of different surnames, all shall be regarded equally, without partiality."

Zhuang Ziling laughed loudly at this: "Not for one family and one surname, but for the peace of all under heaven! Your Majesty's ambition is great indeed. In that case, you should all the more abandon this obsession with restoring the Han."

Zhuang Ziling stepped forward and posed a soul-searching question to Liu Xiu.

"In eliminating calamity and chaos, in loving the people and bringing them peace — has Diwu Lun done any worse than Your Majesty?"

Liu Xiu was instantly choked up. Diwu Lun had not done worse — he had done better.

Over the years, the Eastern Han had been thoroughly infiltrated by spies from the State of Wei, and Liu Xiu had likewise often sent agents into Wei territory to observe conditions there.

Take Liu Xiu's home of Nanyang, for example. As the homeland of the greater part of the Eastern Han's generals and meritorious officials, bound by local ties, the people of Nanyang should have inclined their hearts toward the house of Han. But as early as the Jing-Xiang campaign, Diwu Lun had taken up the "equal-field" plan that the Red Eyebrow Army had not had time to complete, dealing a devastating blow to the powerful houses entrenched in Nanyang for generations. He distributed land to soldiers, rented out the surplus at low cost to refugees and Red Eyebrow remnants, declared all slave contracts predating Wei rule null and void, and liberated a vast population.

This was also why Nanyang local magnates like Li Tong and Deng Feng resisted to the bitter end, preferring suicide to surrendering to Diwu Lun: the hatred born of seizing one's fields and estates far exceeds that of killing one's parents.

But Diwu Lun did not care. After the Nanyang powerful houses had been plowed under once by the Red Eyebrows, they were already weak, and the barrel of Diwu Lun's gun was harder still — enough to push the policy through by force.

Yet at the same time, Diwu Lun left the Yin family intact as a "horse's skeleton," telling the world: it is not that I insist on forcibly seizing the lands of all powerful houses; those who submit to Great Wei may all inherit their ancestral lands and homes.

He concealed the reality of equal-field redistribution beneath the shallow pretext of "striking at political rivals," and indeed fooled quite a few people.

Even as Liu Xiu denounced Diwu Lun before his assembled ministers for mistreating worthy families and local gentry, in his heart he felt a twinge of envy: during his rule over Huainan, faced with many people and little land, he had once issued an edict to liberate slaves and ordered officials to carry out land surveys, so as to ascertain exactly how much land the Huainan magnates held and make them pay taxes in full — only to discover that it simply could not be enforced!

Local officials either were indolent and negligent or colluded with the powerful houses, shifting all the existing burdens onto impoverished freeholding farmers. Liu Xiu had over ten Huainan governors imprisoned and executed for falsifying land surveys, which indeed cowed them somewhat. But he dared not follow Diwu Lun's example and take the knife directly to the powerful houses. He could only try every means to relocate refugees fleeing from Qing and Xu to the lands of Jiangdong — yet when the common people reached those unfamiliar regions, in order to survive, they would rather abandon the wasteland and attach themselves to the four great surnames of Wuhui.

With the military situation pressing, and in order to win the support of the magnates, Liu Xiu had no choice but to yield. He even, after subduing the Shanyue, distributed part of the population to the various great surnames to compensate them for their "losses" from the land surveys and slave liberations.

In the end, after Huainan fell to the Wei army, Diwu Lun had Jing Dan and Xiao Geng carry out a great reckoning there. They first confiscated entirely the families of the "Great Han loyalists" who had migrated south with Liu Xiu and turned their fields into military and civilian agricultural colonies. What Liu Xiu had failed to accomplish in ten years, Diwu Lun did in half a year.

This was the greatest difference in their styles of governance: from the moment he raised his troops at Hongmen, Diwu Lun had adopted the posture of "topple the previous dynasty and start everything anew," innovating considerably in administrative systems.

Liu Xiu, though he styled himself a refounder, maintained the Eastern Han's institutions as a continuation of the Former Han, with few changes.

In other words, Diwu Lun wanted to build a new stove on the ruins of the previous dynasty, to construct an entirely new house, fresh from inside out, sweeping out whatever needed cleaning. Liu Xiu, by contrast, wanted to paint the future in the image of the eras of Emperors Wu, Zhao, and Xuan — afraid of scalding himself here, afraid of scalding himself there, cautious and prudent, and so his vision was naturally narrower.

Now, Diwu Lun's "great mansion" in the north had grown larger and larger, its eaves even stretching to the banks of the Yangtze.

And the "house of Han" that Liu Xiu had rebuilt in the southeast was not only growing smaller, but swaying unsteadily under the assault of wind and rain.

Comparing the two, Liu Xiu's claim of "restoring the Han for all under heaven" was naturally hard to convince anyone with.

So Liu Xiu could only laugh awkwardly: "Ziling, ah, Ziling — today you have spoken more words than in a whole year at the Imperial Academy dormitory. So eloquent and persuasive — could it be you are a lobbyist for the State of Wei?"

This was of course impossible. Liu Xiu knew his old friend's pride and aloofness well; no one could buy him — not with official rank or title, and still less with gold ingots.

Zhuang Ziling did not grow agitated or argue back, but only said calmly: "Whether I am or not, Your Majesty knows in your own heart."

"But in the land of Jiangdong, there are surely many who are in communication with Wei!"

After the great defeat at Dangyang, the hearts of the people in Jiangdong were unsettled, and the four great surnames of Wuhui each harbored their own schemes. To say that Diwu Lun had not sent agents to contact them — even Liu Xiu did not believe that. As for the common people, that went without saying...

"Your Majesty, in this chaotic age, the common people truly want only a roof to shelter them from wind and rain."

Zhuang Ziling spoke the blunt truth: "As for whether the master of this house is surnamed Liu or surnamed Wu — the common people do not care!"

This echoed, with subtle similarity, what Diwu Lun had said when raising his army against Wang Mang and, in deliberating their banner, resolved to abandon the flag of Han restoration: "What the people of the realm long for is peace and comfort — not the Han!"

"Has Your Majesty seen the custom in Kuaiji? Before a great house is completed, they drive in a water buffalo, draped in embroidered silk, fed on hay and beans, and lead it into the hall, then bludgeon it to death with a blunt instrument! This is the sacrificial ox!"

"Right now, Your Majesty is that sacrificial ox."

Zhuang Ziling said with deep sorrow: "And even if you are willing to give your life, to become the sacrifice — you still cannot reverse the reality that this remnant Han house and tomb in Jiangdong will ultimately collapse!"

Liu Xiu remained silent for a long time. Had Zhuang Ziling's words from the heart made him see the truth clearly? Or had Liu Xiu understood this truth long ago, ever since the Battle of Dangyang, and could only desperately deceive himself?

But however great the truth, there were some things he still had to carry through — knowing they were impossible, yet doing them anyway!

Just then, a knocking sounded outside the door. Liu Xiu seized the chance to end this ultimately fruitless conversation, avoiding the awkwardness, and strode quickly outside. There he saw the Commandant of Justice, Hou Ba, hurrying over, handing the Emperor an urgent secret report from Deng Yu.

"Your Majesty."

Wang Ba was also a fearless and battle-hungry general, but at this moment, his voice actually trembled slightly.

"Ma Yuan has breached Chengdu. Gongsun Shu took his own life in Chengdu. The Chengjia state — is destroyed!"

In a mere four months, Diwu Wei had swept through the southwest and wiped out Gongsun — this speed could hardly fail to shock men like Wang Ba to their core. Now only the Eastern Han remained, a single tree propping up the sky!

A short while later, when Liu Xiu, his expression heavy, returned to the bedchamber, he found that Zhuang Ziling had already dressed and was preparing to leave.

No longer bleary-eyed and disheveled, Zhuang Ziling had become a handsome middle-aged man. He stood eight chi tall, his face like crowned jade, a silk kerchief on his head and a crane-feather cloak draped over his shoulders — drifting and ethereal, with the air of an immortal.

"Just now, Xiu was rash." Liu Xiu understood that Zhuang Ziling's resolve to leave was final, and sighed: "Of old, a ruler who would achieve great things must have ministers who cannot be summoned. How dare Xiu treat Ziling as a mere minister! It is only that I wish to found a great enterprise, and it is like walking slowly on thin spring ice, or like having just healed a wound and needing to lean on a wooden staff to walk. Thus I hoped to gain Ziling's aid and support. But Ziling disdains me as unwise — can it be that I truly cannot win you over!"

These were the polite words of farewell, but as Zhuang Ziling picked up his staff, he turned back, and with one last shred of hope, said to Liu Xiu: "Your Majesty can indeed command me."

"But why not command me to stay?"

Such audacity! For a moment Liu Xiu did not know how to answer, but then he heard Zhuang Ziling say: "Long ago, when Zhuangzi was fishing by the Pu River, the King of Chu sent two grandees to invite him to court. But Zhuangzi held his rod and did not look back, saying: 'I have heard that in Chu there is a divine tortoise, dead these three thousand years. The King keeps it wrapped in cloth and stored in a bamboo chest within his ancestral temple. Would this tortoise rather be dead, its bones kept and honored? Or would it rather be alive, dragging its tail through the mud?'"

"The two grandees replied: 'It would rather be alive, dragging its tail through the mud.'"

"Zhuangzi said: 'Be gone then! I shall drag my tail through the mud.'"

Zhuang Ziling once more addressed Liu Xiu by his courtesy name: "Wenshu, Zhuang Guang is going back to Fuchun Mountain, to go on being that tortoise dragging its tail through the mud."

"If Wenshu is willing, you need not be this sacrificial ox doomed to die — you could be a lone calf, roaming the rivers and lakes with me! With a bamboo staff and straw sandals, on Fuchun Mountain in Kuaiji, we could echo the music of Boya and Ziqi, and take in the rivers-and-mountains scenery of Wu and Chu."

This was an invitation for Liu Xiu to lay down everything and go into seclusion with him! For one fleeting moment, Liu Xiu truly felt a stir in his heart. He had ruled Jiangdong for over ten years, had long heard of the scenery of the Qiantang River and the beauty of Fuchun Mountain, yet had never seen them. He had always lived in frantic haste, searching high and low, only to meet failure and setback again and again — he was indeed weary…

But in the end, Liu Xiu still shook his head. To say he was "restoring the Han for all under Heaven" was grand talk, not to be wholly believed, but it was also true that it was not merely for one family or one surname. Over these ten-plus years, the civil and military officials, officers, and heroes who followed Liu Xiu had already formed a bloc. They were like a herd of oxen, following Liu Xiu, this "lead ox," all crammed together in the broken ox pen of Jiangdong — sharing glory, sharing ruin!

"The spirit of Mount Ji and the Ying River — that is not something Xiu dares aspire to."

Liu Xiu bowed to Zhuang Ziling with clasped hands. When he raised his head, he could see the deep pity and regret in his old classmate's eyes. Zhuang Ziling seemed already to have glimpsed Liu Xiu's fate.

"Then, Your Majesty, you still mean to be the sacrificial ox that spills all its blood, its heart cut out and its liver torn away…"

Yes, Gongsun Shu — he was a sacrificial ox. In the end he died in Chengdu, and the little Cheng court he had sustained for over ten years came crashing down in ruin. Would Liu Xiu repeat that same disastrous course?

This time, Liu Xiu no longer felt awkward, impatient, or refused to admit it. He began to think in earnest, standing still for a long while. Wang Ba, Qiang Hua, and the others merely thought the Emperor was watching his old friend depart into the distance.

Only when Zhuang Ziling's figure could no longer be made out, leaving behind only the straw-sandal footprints on the ground leading south, did Liu Xiu let out a long breath. When he turned around, Wang Ba and the others saw that the look in His Majesty the Emperor's eyes was no longer tangled and tragic, but suddenly clear and open!

He even broke into a smile.

"A sacrificial ox? A lone calf?"

"I choose neither!"

……

Spring, the twelfth year of Wude (AD 36).

It had been over half a year since the destruction of the Cheng family's Gongsun, and since the Grand General of Agile Cavalry of the State of Wei, Ma Yuan, was ordered to impose "military governance" over the whole territory of Yizhou.

Just as the dark clouds of war slowly dispersed, so the snow on the unbroken chain of snowy mountains west of Chengdu slowly melted, turning into clear streams that flowed down from the ten-thousand-year glaciers, passed through the highland meadows, and finally merged into one vast, surging river: the Min River.

The Min River rushes from western Shu down toward the plain, flowing past a rich county town. The grain shoots in the fields are green, travelers come and go on the roads, and merchants have resumed their journeys. This place was once the capital of the Shu kings Duyu and Bieling, the cradle of the ancient Shu kingdom — Pi County.

On a hill outside the county town, overlooking the Min River in the distance, there is a tomb. It is modest in scale, with no mound raised and no trees planted, yet the surrounding ground, nearly half a li around, is enclosed and guarded by dedicated keepers. Even in his final months before destruction, Gongsun Shu did not harm this tomb. It was this last shred of goodwill that allowed his Crown Prince, captured by the Wei army, to keep his life…

On the day of the Cold Food Festival, Pi County, where military governance had already ended, was suddenly placed under martial law. This tomb area in particular was guarded at every third pace and posted at every fifth.

At noon, a large retinue arrived. From the imperial carriage drawn by six horses stepped Diwu Lun, traveling in plain clothes. He looked around at the surroundings and found that, apart from the trees having grown much taller, it was no different from when he had escorted the coffin here over ten years ago.

"Build a pavilion here, to shelter passing scholars and travelers from wind and rain." Diwu Lun pointed to the fork in the road going up the hill, and so instructed the Governor of Shu Commandery and the Magistrate of Pi County who were accompanying him. He also bestowed a name for the pavilion.

"It shall be called…"

"Ziyun Pavilion! The Ziyun Pavilion of Western Shu!"

The Governor and the County Magistrate assented. Overjoyed, they immediately recruited men to begin the work, striving to finish it before the Emperor concluded his inspection tour of Ba and Shu.

Having given these instructions, Diwu Lun had everyone wait at the foot of the hill. Taking only a few attendants, he slowly strolled up the hill.

When he reached the tomb, Diwu Lun found that the local officials had just arranged for it to be swept and tidied. There was not even a single weed left for him to pluck.

And so Diwu Lun could only draw near that gravestone, which he and his fellow disciples had pooled money to have carved. He knelt on one knee before it, reached out, and gently stroked the stone, warmed somewhat by the sun — as if patting the back of that white-haired, broken-legged old man.

Softly, he said:

"Teacher, your student has come to see you…"