Chapter 862: The Ten Lords of Jiaozhou

Zhang Xiancun was indeed a very clever child. Not long after the chief of the Abu tribe had left, he immediately saw, from the Cuan clan, the first step to civilizing Nanzhong.

That was to find a Han ancestor for every major clan chief in Nanzhong.

This was not impossible. Unlike the Baiyue remnant peoples spread throughout Lingnan and Annan at this time, the southwest, ever since Zhuang Qiao became king of Dian, had been entangled with the Han people without cease.

Tracing their origins, apart from a small number of natives of the ancient Dianchi region, the great majority had migrated south from the Central Plains and the Ba-Shu region; they were not local aborigines.

Taking later Yunnan and Guizhou as an example, among the largest ethnic groups, the Yi are close kin of the Han and Tibetans, Qiang people who moved south; the Hani are close kin of the Yi, likewise Qiang people who moved south.

The Bai were formed by early Han people entering and blending with the locals; the Miao are descendants of Chiyou who migrated south; the Yao are one of the Jiuli and also migrated south.

The Dai came south from northern Sichuan and southern Shaanxi — that is, the later Hanzhong and Ankang in Shaanxi, and Guangyuan and Bazhong in Sichuan. The Tujia are simply a mixture of the ancient Ba people, the Wuling Man, and Han.

Although these southward migrations were mostly the result of defeats in struggle, the intermingling of the various peoples with the Han had begun since the pre-Qin era. To say now that there is no distinction between us and them would be somewhat forced, but to say there are countless ties is not wrong.

Especially after Tang Meng opened up the southwest, through the two Han dynasties, the two Jin, and the Northern and Southern Dynasties, the natives of Nanzhong mostly obeyed the court.

Among the local great clans, there were great Han clans that had localized, and locals who had sinicized into great clans. For everyone to draw a little closer together and find some common ground was not difficult.

In the Ailao Mountains, Cuan Pan, already eighty-seven years old, still had a full head of jet-black hair, and even in such difficult times, the beard beneath his chin was kept neatly trimmed.

Before him, his grandson-in-law and grandnephew Duan Sizhong lay on a bed spread with white hemp cloth, already breathing his last.

But all this had nothing to do with the pursuit by the Chu vassal army. Duan Sizhong simply could not endure the climate and water of the Ailao Mountains, and fell ill within days of entering the mountains.

This last resisting member of the Dali Duan royal clan, seeing Cuan Pan arrive, even in his grave illness, hurriedly strained with all his strength to reach out and grasp Cuan Pan's hand.

"Grandfather, I cannot watch the Duan clan lose everything. Once I am gone, the Cuan clan will also be freed."

The "gone" Duan Sizhong spoke of naturally meant his departure from this world, though from his appearance, while he was breathing his last, he could probably hold on for three to five days without a problem.

But Zhang Xiancun had given Cuan Pan only five days in total. From here to Jianshui was a little over three hundred li, and the roads were poor; five days was not generous.

"This child is too stubborn. The Duan clan has not lost everything, because you were always a garrison of one region. Where there is gain there must be loss; to gain is the Mandate of Heaven, to lose is also the turn of fortune."

Hearing Cuan Pan say this, even in his grave illness, Duan Sizhong suddenly opened his eyes wide.

He understood everything. After a long sigh, tears suddenly streamed down his face. "Grandfather's heart must be in great pain right now — the lives of tens of thousands of the Cuan clan!"

At this, Cuan Pan could not help but let old tears flow freely. "Zhong, my boy, Grandfather can only let you down.

My Cuan surname originates from the Ban clan; our ancestor was the renowned Ban Dingyuan. We have flourished in this land for over a hundred years. Before the Tianbao era, we held Nanzhong for the state; our clansmen numbered more than a million. Now only these tens of thousands remain. Grandfather cannot let the Cuan clan end in my hands!"

Well, whether or not others believed the Cuan clan were descendants of Ban Dingyuan, Cuan Pan certainly believed it. Anyone who dared question it to his face did not escape the long blade at his waist.

Duan Sizhong's chest heaved violently for a while, then his head slowly turned toward Cuan Chuan's side, and he said in a low voice:

"Your grandson understands. Let Yi Niang come in. If in the future the court can tolerate the Duan clan, let these several thousand Duan descendants obey the court's arrangements. If the court cannot tolerate them, let them change their surname to Cuan."

Yi Niang was Cuan Pan's granddaughter and Duan Sizhong's wife. Cuan Pan knew what Duan Sizhong meant to do.

This was a final farewell!

Though his heart was grieved, Cuan Pan understood that Zhang Xiancun could still give him this treatment only because of a momentary softness of heart. If he did not hurry to settle it, the clan would very likely be exterminated.

Therefore, even though he could not bear it in his heart, he immediately had his sons and grandsons prepare fast horses.

Raising his head to gaze at the shapeless white clouds in the sky, Cuan Pan let out a long sigh. He was old and could no longer see the situation clearly. He had thought that with twenty thousand troops in hand, relying on these perilous mountains and treacherous waters, he could block the court's great army and preserve a little hope for the Duan clan.

He had not expected that in one month they would be beaten to the end of the road, with several thousand family members captured. Now if he did not surrender, even the Cuan clan would be exterminated.

After a long while, heart-rending weeping came from the inner room. Not long after, his granddaughter Yi Niang handed Cuan Pan a piece of cloth covered in writing, and said through tear-blurred eyes in a mournful voice: "This is what Zhong Lang bade me give to Grandfather."

Cuan Pan did not even look at it, but immediately handed it to his son Cuan Yun behind him, his face recovering the coldness and decisiveness befitting a clan chief who held the fate of tens of thousands.

"Arrest and execute according to the list!"

Cuan Yun did not hesitate in the slightest. He immediately led warriors with drawn blades toward the town.

The list on the cloth was of those monks who appeared loyal to the Duan clan on the surface, but were in fact die-hard members of the Azhali sect.

Without these monks, Duan Sizhong would not necessarily have chosen to resist. At the same time, in the past, these monks had also been the Duan clan's greatest assistants in influencing the Cuan clan.

Although Duan Siping and Cuan Pan were deeply attached as uncle and nephew, just like Zhang Zhao and Li Shengtian, it was impossible that they had not taken the most basic precautions.

A person in such a position who did not take basic precautions would not be repaying kindness, but imitating Duke Zhuang of Zheng.

That night, Duan Sizhong had gone a day and a night without a drop of water. Already extremely weak, he finally returned his soul to the Nine Springs before Cuan Pan set out.

The moment he died, the hundred or more Cuan clan youths who had long been waiting outside did not wait a moment, but immediately mounted and set off.

Five days later, at Jianshui Prefecture, Zhang Xiancun received Cuan Pan, still treating him with courtesy. Hearing of Duan Sizhong's deeds, he sighed from the heart:

"Had Duan Sizhong been the one in power in former days, how could I have entered Dali City so quickly!"

His sigh finished, Zhang Xiancun immediately reported to the court, posthumously conferring upon Duan Sizhong the posts of Acting Grand Commandant, Military Governor of Tonghai, and other offices, and took Duan Sizhong's youngest son into his own household to raise him personally.

Duan Sizhong's eldest daughter was just fifteen, gentle, virtuous, and refined. Zhang Xiancun recommended her to the palace as a common consort for his own thirteen-year-old younger brother, Zhang Xianzhao, who might very well go to Tokharistan in the future and be enfeoffed as Grand Duke of Xiliu or even Great King of Anguo.

Zhang Xiancun, for his part, took Nong Minfu's younger sister, Cuan Pan's granddaughter, as a Liangdi consort, becoming his own younger brother's cousin-uncle by marriage, perfectly inheriting his father Sage Zhang's tangled ethical comedy.

Then, taking Cuan Pan and Nong Minfu by the hand, with Duan Sizhong's youngest son strapped to his back, he specially rode in the magnificent four-horse carriage of the King of Chu, parading all the way from Jianshui back to Dali City.

As he traveled, Zhang Xiancun had men spread the word far and wide that on the fifteenth day of the eighth month he would hold a grand banquet in Dali City.

All chiefs of caves and stockades in the realm who commanded five hundred or more people could come to Dali City to attend, and there would be another great enfeoffment.

On the fifteenth of the ninth month, civil and military examinations would be held in Dali City. All learned scholars and brave warriors could come to take the examinations; office would be granted based solely on ability, regardless of family background.

This chain of moves, though it could not completely quell the rebellions within the Chu vassal state — because Zhang Xiancun was an outsider, a powerful dragon taking the throne, and locally there were sure to be large numbers of vested interests overthrown, a hatred that could only be settled by force —

still, apart from that, factions whose conflicts of interest with Zhang Xiancun had not reached the point of life and death would gradually set aside their hostility and begin seeking ways to achieve peace.

Of course, Zhang Xiancun's most important task now was writing letters.

And the recipients of his letter were a mother and daughter.

The mother, though already heavy with child, still revealed traces of her former grace and charm; as for her features, they could be called as lovely as a painting — a great beauty of the first rank.

The daughter was a little over three, small and round, her skin crystalline and translucent, her large eyes betraying a sly, impish look.

The mother tapped her daughter's plump little cheek with a scallion-white finger. "This father-king of yours! Whenever he writes, it is surely to put someone to work. Do you know what to do when you see Grandfather?"

"I know." The little girl, like a tiny adult, put her hands on her hips, narrowed her eyes, and answered with a giggle:

"When I see Grandfather, I'll climb onto him, wrap my arms around his neck, and if he doesn't agree to Father-King's request, I won't kiss him."

As for this mother and daughter — the mother was naturally the Princess of Chu, far away in the divine capital Luoyang: the daughter of Hua Jianxiu and Li Siyuan, Lady Li.

And this daughter was none other than Zhang Xiancun's eldest daughter — and, to this day, the only true blood granddaughter of me, Sage Zhang.

You ask what Zhang Xiancun would say in his letter? He wants money, of course!

Whether it is another round of enfeoffment or the opening of the civil and military examination tracks, it all comes down to redistributing the cake.

But the cake of the Chu fief is only so big — no matter how you slice it, it can never be divided evenly. So naturally, Sage Zhang the father has to put up another sum of money and buy an extra cake.

At this moment, Sage Zhang — who is looking at the statecraft strategy Zhang Xiancun has presented with considerable delight, thinking his son has grasped the essence of governance — is about to understand what it means for a son to be a debt-collecting ghost.

Luo City, also called Ancient Luo City, lies just slightly northwest of present-day Hanoi.

Jiaozhi is actually a rather fantastical place. Judging from the city's name alone, whenever the political center was at Ancient Luo, it was most likely a period of rebellion and independence — even if independence was not openly declared, it was close enough.

When the court's control was strong, the political center was basically at Jiaozhou City, which is present-day Hanoi.

Besides Jiaozhou City, there is also a Jiaozhi City a dozen or so li to the northwest — the site of the Jiaozhi Commandery seat during the Two Han, Three Kingdoms, Two Jin, and Northern and Southern Dynasties periods.

Er, perhaps "site" is not quite the right word, since plenty of people still live there now.

Now that the Wu clan has proclaimed itself Great King, the political center is at Ancient Luo City.

Wu Changwen is around forty this year. Setting aside the question of ultimate success or failure in history, he can be considered a highly capable separatist lord.

In the late Tang, military men rose wildly, and yabing guards and yabing officers ran rampant — even the Jinghai Army in the far south was no exception.

Ever since Gao Pian left Annan during the Xiantong era, this place has been a paradise for yabing officers practicing their traditional craft.

Qu Chengyu, Yang Tingyi, Jiao Gongxian, Wu Quan himself, the later Yang San'ge, and even Ding Buling — who later formally confirmed Vietnam's independence and proclaimed himself emperor — all came from yabing officer backgrounds, and all rose to power by killing their own superior Military Governors.

The one thing that made the Jinghai Army somewhat special was that it was propped up by more than ten great Han clans — behind every yabing officer stood a family.

So yabing officers did not have to worry about being coerced by the yabing guards, but this in turn made the yabing officers even harder to control — even mere suppression was difficult.

Under such circumstances, Wu Changwen — a son of a concubine, who grew up with his father's inheritance seized and under surveillance — was somehow able to stage a desperate comeback, topple Yang San'ge, and then outlast his elder brother Wu Changji, who held the mantle of legitimacy. That could not have been done without real ability.

At this moment, Wu Changwen was at the very height of his pride and success.

If you asked him whether the Jinghai Army still had the mantle of legitimacy, he would tell you: what fucking mantle of legitimacy?

That seemingly useful mantle of legitimacy on his elder brother Wu Changji was actually deliberately manufactured by the great clan yabing officers known as the Ten Envoys.

The goal was to make the Wu clan — acknowledged as the leader and the most powerful — tear itself apart in fratricidal strife, while they stood by and reaped the benefits.

When the elder brother gained the upper hand, those dogs would support the younger brother; when the younger brother prevailed, they would back the elder brother. The whole point was to drain every last bit of the Wu clan's capital.

But Heaven aided Wu Changwen — his clueless fool of an elder brother unexpectedly dropped dead out of nowhere, and in an instant the Ten Envoys, who had been playing seesaw, lost any possibility of continuing the game.

When Wu Changwen heard the news of his elder brother Wu Changji's death, he immediately dropped into a kneeling slide — a kneeling slide before the portrait of his father Wu Quan — and swore in his heart that he would build up his strength and make the Ten Envoys pay.

But thinking it was one thing; making it happen was another matter, because the situation of the Jinghai Army at this time was utterly bizarre.

The former Annan Protectorate, where the Jinghai Army was now located, originally had twelve prefectures, but now all had fallen except Jiaozhou, Wu'an Prefecture, Changzhou, and Fulu Prefecture on the Red River plain.

Well, "fallen" is not quite the right word either, because of the Jinghai Army's twelve prefectures, only these four were the Han-settled heartland.

As for the rest — whenever they got around to it, they could wipe out those half-sinicized barbarians at will. Right now everyone was nervously fighting the final round of battle royale, and no one had time to bother with them.

Since these four prefectures were all crammed together on the Red River plain, and the Wu clan, as hegemon, controlled the most central region, the other ten envoys were distributed around the Wu clan's territory.

How to put it — like a chrysanthemum. The Wu clan was the stamen, and the other Ten Envoys were the ten petals, tightly surrounding the Wu clan in the middle.

This... damn, what Ten Envoys? This is an ambush on all sides!

No matter which side Wu Changwen attacked, he would suffer sneak attacks from every other direction with no blind spots. Unless your strength was great enough to fight six or seven at once, there was simply no way to break the deadlock.

Historically, Wu Changwen never did break the deadlock, and in the end he capsized in a ditch and was killed by a few bandits.

Of course, in this timeline his head ached even more, because he received word that the Southern Han and the Kingdom of Dali — which had once kept the Jinghai Army gasping for breath — had reportedly both been destroyed by the imperial court.

This was catastrophic!

Wu Changwen very wisely prepared to set aside his hatred at once and make peace with the Ten Envoys, just as his father Wu Quan had done decades ago when he led everyone to defeat the Southern Han army that came to subjugate them.

But suddenly, Wu Changwen's younger brother Wu Changjun — who had gone to the Southern Han and then vanished without a trace — came back.

"Elder Brother, wonderful news!"

Wu Changjun's face was glowing, and he was trembling all over with excitement. "Your younger brother escaped death by the skin of his teeth, lay low in Xingwang Prefecture for more than twenty days, and finally met the Duke of Han, who holds the staff of office and governs the Two Guangs."

At this point, Wu Changjun deliberately paused for dramatic effect, grabbed a tea bowl, and began gulping noisily.

The moment Wu Changwen heard "wonderful news," he could not contain himself, and grabbed Wu Changjun's arm, pressing him with question after question.

Only after Wu Changjun had fully savored the moment did he say: "After your younger brother declared our Wu family's loyalty to the court to the Duke of Han, the Duke gave no visible reaction, but very soon Secretary Zhao, the official gentleman, sought me out.

He wants our Wu family to produce two hundred thousand strings of cash. Once the money arrives, the Duke of Han will memorialize the court on our behalf, requesting that the Jinghai Army be settled according to the precedent of Liu Congxiao."

Two hundred thousand strings was by no means a small sum. Even if the Wu family sold everything they had, they would probably struggle to scrape it together.

But if two hundred thousand strings could secure treatment like Liu Congxiao's — continuing to hold the region — then it was absolutely worth it.

After taking two deep breaths, Wu Changwen asked with some doubt: "The Duke of Han, Zhang Zhaojun, has just won the merit of destroying a kingdom and now holds the staff of office to govern Lingnan. Does he still lack these two hundred thousand strings?"

"He lacks it, he lacks it badly!" Wu Changjun answered with full confidence:

"Your younger brother has found out clearly: this time the court supported Prince of Yan Murong Xinzhang's eastern expedition against Goryeo and Wa, spending over eight million strings in goods and wealth. Even the Son of Heaven's private treasury has nearly been emptied.

Therefore, after the Kingdom of Han was pacified this time, all the treasures in the realm were loaded up and sent to the Divine Capital to fill the shortfall.

The reason the Son of Heaven used the title of Han — with which he was once enfeoffed — to enfeoff Zhang Zhaojun was precisely so that the Duke of Han would have to raise the rewards himself.

But Lingnan is newly settled, and the Duke of Han does not dare rashly impose new levies, so he has set his sights on us, the great clans of Lingnan.

The Feng and Xian clans of Qiongzhou and Yazhou were levied one hundred thousand strings, the Chen clan of Wuzhou fifty thousand strings, the Li and Liao peoples under Nong Minfu one hundred thousand strings, and the foreign merchants of Xingwang Prefecture two hundred thousand strings."

Wu Changwen's eyes went wide, and he asked in disbelief: "The Chen clan of Wuzhou was also levied fifty thousand strings? Then this seems to be true."

The reason Wu Changwen was so shocked was that the Chen clan of Wuzhou, while not a powerful or influential great house in Lingnan, held an extremely refined and elevated status.

Because their clan's founding ancestors, Chen Qin and his son Chen Yuan, were the most important literary masters Lingnan has produced to this day, known as the Literary Patriarchs of Lingnan — their fame even greater than that of the great Lingnan figure Zhang Jiuling of the Tang.

Historically, Chen Qin served as tutor to both Emperor Ping of the Western Han and Wang Mang. Together with his son Chen Yuan, he played an enormous role in making the Spring and Autumn Annals with the Zuo Commentary a core classical study, and even made Wuzhou of that time one of the cultural centers of the entire realm.

This was truly extraordinary. One must remember that even now, Lingnan is considered half-barbaric wilderness, let alone in the late Western Han.

Therefore, regardless of whether the present-day Chen clan of Wuzhou truly descends from Chen Qin and Chen Yuan, once they put up that signboard, their status became extremely refined and elevated. Normally, to stabilize Lingnan, one would not touch such a family — on the contrary, one would hold them up high.

So when Wu Changwen heard that the Chen clan of Wuzhou had also been levied fifty thousand strings, he immediately and basically believed that Zhang Zhaojun truly was short of money to placate the soldiers under him.

Still, he hesitated somewhat, because even if Zhang Zhaojun's side was short of money for the time being, what about the Dali Kingdom — oh no, it should be the Chu Principality — over there?

The scene of the former Nanzhao seizing all of Annan several times was still circling in Wu Changwen's mind and would not go away.

But as it happened, just as Wu Changwen was hesitating, his subordinate general Du Jingshuo came to report that the Chu Principality to the northwest had dispatched a great army of tens of thousands, marching south to attack the Kingdom of Women.

Wu Changwen laughed heartily. "Heaven aids me! If I may follow the precedent of Liu Congxiao, my seventh brother Wu Changjun should hold Changzhou as Defense Suppression Commissioner!"

(End of Chapter)

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