Chapter 1560: The Restless Court Nobles

"Japan... Land of the Rising Sun. That name is far too arrogant." The Crown Prince shook his head slightly, looking displeased. "Our nation's power surges upward by the day, we campaign in all directions, our martial glory unmatched by any past dynasty — we are the true land of the rising sun! What virtue or ability do they possess to call themselves by such a name!"

"But they've always called their country by that name, haven't they? What else would you call them if not that...?" Zheng Sen asked quietly.

"I've read some records. In ancient times, their rulers sent envoys to pay tribute to the emperors of Wei and Jin, and at that time their country was called the Land of Wa. Some old texts also record it as the Land of Fusang... Later, during the Great Tang, they changed the name to Japan, because they found the old name too unpleasant to hear." The Crown Prince spoke unhurriedly. "Back then they also fought a war with the Great Tang, and they lost. After that they revered the Great Tang immensely, sending many missions of tribute envoys to China to study Tang culture. I've heard that when they later moved their capital, they even directly named it Luoyang."

"They really are quite amusing..." Zheng Sen couldn't help laughing. "Others defeat them, and they still revere them so much."

"Is that not simply the nature of barbarians?" the Crown Prince replied with a smile.

Then, his expression quickly grew solemn again.

"The Tang Dynasty and the Ming Dynasty both fought wars with the Japanese to defend the Goryeo people. During the Yuan Dynasty, to conquer Japan, Kublai Khan twice led armies against Japan, and both times ended in failure just short of success." As if stirred by deep emotion, the Crown Prince suddenly lowered his voice. "The Great Yuan was a Mongol dynasty, so we can set that aside. Therefore... this time, ours is the first Han dynasty to take the initiative in a punitive expedition against Japan. If... if we succeed, it will be an achievement no previous dynasty has ever realized, one that can surpass the Tang and the Ming."

The Crown Prince also knew that the cycle of dynastic change was an inescapable law of history, and had heard his imperial father say that "there is no dynasty under heaven that does not perish." Yet even if it must perish, he felt that their own Great Han should, while it lived, accomplish some earth-shaking enterprise surpassing all previous dynasties — only then would its reign over the world not have been in vain. Of course, such thoughts he could not speak plainly to Zheng Sen.

"In those historical dynasties, were there any examples of a crown prince personally leading a campaign?" Zheng Sen suddenly asked with curiosity.

"Among the barbarian dynasties, there were. Among the Han dynasties, it seems there were none." After thinking for a moment, the Crown Prince answered.

In truth, there were. At the very least, the Crown Prince remembered the story from the Sui Dynasty, when Yang Guang took command and led troops to destroy the Chen Dynasty. It was actually quite similar — at the time, Yang Guang was only twenty years old by nominal age, commanding from the rear, while the general leading the troops at the front was the famous commander Gao Jiong.

However, firstly, Yang Guang was then the second imperial son, Prince of Jin, and the crown prince was Yang Yong, whom he later murdered. Secondly, Emperor Yang of Sui had far too vile a reputation among the common people. So the Crown Prince simply omitted this historical anecdote altogether.

"Doesn't that mean Your Highness is the very first Han crown prince in all of history, past and present, to lead troops on a campaign against Japan?" Zheng Sen stared wide-eyed at the Crown Prince.

"One could say so." The Crown Prince first nodded with feigned reserve, then broke into an irrepressible grin. "Yes, the first in all of history. I must not let this fortune go to waste!"

As he laughed, he gazed at the dark, ashen night sky in the distance. The sea had already merged with the night sky, the horizon nowhere to be seen. Only tomorrow's sunrise could likely part them again.

Sunrise... Land of the Rising Sun. In the end, which was truly the land of the rising sun?

"Crossing seas to smite the Wa, surpassing Tang and Ming; a hundred battles' fierce warriors tread upon Fusang. We shall not permit the island barbarians to falsely claim the name of Sun; only our nation's brilliance shall shine upon all lands..." Gazing at the distant scenery, the Crown Prince suddenly spoke the words aloud.

"A fine poem, Your Highness the Crown Prince!" Before Zheng Sen could even react, Zhao Song, who was already walking this way, immediately shouted.

"It's merely a doggerel..." The Crown Prince smiled sheepishly.

The clamor of this evening outside Jinzhou Harbor, and the bold words of the Great Han Crown Prince, did not reach that island nation separated from the continent by the sea. At this very moment, it was still immersed in the rare peace that had followed a century of warring states.

With the onset of spring, the season of cherry blossoms in full bloom had finally arrived.

Though no one said so explicitly, this was the grandest festival of the year for the Japanese. In this season when all things revived, people took advantage of the spring weather to go on outings everywhere, sweeping away the gloom of winter. Some people of refined taste would even invite a few close friends to gather, singing songs and drinking wine, together admiring the cherry blossoms in full bloom.

Among the great mansions of Kyoto, the court noble families dwelling deep within were extremely fond of hosting such cherry blossom viewing parties. Nearly every family either invited others or was invited to admire the blooming cherry blossoms.

Kyoto was Heian-kyo. Since the ancient Emperor Kanmu moved the capital here in the thirteenth year of the Enryaku era, nearly eight hundred years had passed. However, although Kyoto had been established as Japan's capital for so long and appeared very old, most of the residences these court nobles lived in were newly built and did not reveal much trace of antiquity.

One hundred and eighty years ago, Japan was still under the rule of the Muromachi Shogunate. However, the shogunate's power had already slipped away, hollowed out by powerful ministers. At the time, the two most powerful ministers were the Kanrei Hosokawa Katsumoto and the Samurai-dokoro Shoshi Yamana Sozen. These two men hated each other and intended to fight for final victory. Each raised a great army and fought battles across the Kyoto region. The fighting dragged on for ten years in total. This was the Onin War of history, also regarded as the beginning of the Warring States era.

But after fighting for so long, the two of them never managed to decide a victor. The result was that the once-prosperous Kyoto region was reduced to destitution and exhaustion, everywhere turned to ruins and barren land. Even the residences and mansions of the imperial court nobles within Kyoto city were mostly reduced to ashes, leaving them no choice but to flee.

The Warring States period dragged on for over a hundred years, everyone fighting everyone else in utter chaos. Over those hundred-plus years, the disorder reached its extreme. The once awe-inspiring Hosokawa and Yamana clans each vanished in turn, and even the Ashikaga family of the Muromachi shoguns gradually declined, no longer receiving anyone's respect.

This period was also the most miserable time for the Emperor and the court nobles. They wandered destitute and adrift, anxious and uncertain of their fate, tasting hardship to the fullest. It was not until the final years of the Warring States that Japan finally showed some signs of settling down. The shattered territories were gradually consolidated under the control of a few powerful warlords, until at last, Oda Nobunaga finally defeated the powerful clans across the land, achieving a preliminary reunification of Japan, and the chaotic country slowly began to stabilize.

Although Oda Nobunaga was soon forced to commit suicide due to the Honno-ji Incident, after a brief initial struggle over the succession of power, his great general Toyotomi Hideyoshi quickly took over Oda Nobunaga's political legacy and, with an even more forceful posture than Oda Nobunaga before him, once again coalesced Japan together.

Perhaps because his own origins were far too humble and lowly, Toyotomi Hideyoshi greatly envied the elegance of the court nobles. Compared to the warlords before him, including Oda Nobunaga, he showed far more respect to the imperial court and the nobles. He made several massive donations of gold, silver, and wealth to the court, and also ordered the reconstruction of Kyoto, allowing it to regain its vitality.

Through his efforts, Kyoto underwent large-scale construction. A great number of mansions and temples were rebuilt, and it once again became a livable place for the Emperor and the court nobles — though, of course, these newly built residences could not be said to have any history.

It was precisely for this reason that the court nobles had always fondly remembered Toyotomi Hideyoshi's rule, while in their hearts they were filled with loathing for the arrogant, lawless Tokugawa clan that ignored all order and discipline — only, no one dared to express this openly.

A long earthen embankment within Kyoto city was one of the surviving relics of Toyotomi Hideyoshi's Kyoto reconstruction project. This embankment served as the dividing boundary between Kyoto's inner and outer city. Inside the embankment was the district where the Emperor and the high-ranking court nobles resided, the so-called "Rakuchu," while outside the embankment was naturally "Rakugai." This embankment, stretching for dozens of li, was named the "Odoi."

After more than fifty years of weathering, this originally high-ramparted earthen embankment had gradually deteriorated from lack of maintenance. Green grass and wild vines spread over it, nearly turning it into a green wall, its former appearance barely visible anymore. Moreover, sections of this embankment had been dismantled and incorporated into newly built mansions or temples.

Within the grounds of Rozan-ji Temple, located on Hiromichi Koji Road, there was just such a section of the embankment.

Rozan-ji Temple was a very ancient temple in Kyoto. It was originally built in the first year of the Tengyo era, over seven hundred years ago, by the eminent monk Jikei Daishi. At that time it was not called by this name. Four hundred years ago, the eminent monk Kakuyu relocated the temple to Mount Funaoka in Kyoto, and to echo the mountain temples of China, deliberately changed the temple's name to Rozan-ji, a name that had been passed down ever since.

However, during the Warring States era, Mount Funaoka, where Rozan-ji was located, unfortunately became a battlefield in the conflict between the Hosokawa and Yamana clans, and was burned down in a great battle.

It was not until Toyotomi Hideyoshi began rebuilding Kyoto that Rozan-ji was revived, and its location was moved to Hiromichi Koji Road in Kyoto's northern district.

Because this place was situated in the outskirts of Kyoto with a quiet and secluded environment, and a great number of cherry blossom trees were planted in the surrounding area, it became a place of refined elegance within Kyoto's court noble circles. Every year when spring arrived, some high-ranking court nobles would hold banquets here, resting and viewing the cherry blossoms.

At this moment, on a section of the embankment enclosed within the temple grounds, a group of people were gathered, ascending the height to admire the cherry blossoms.

Gazing out from here, white cherry blossoms spread in profusion both inside and outside the temple. Seen from afar, they resembled clusters of pink brocade, piled between heaven and earth. The flecks of cherry blossom were snow-white tinged with a blush of red, five petals clustering around goose-yellow stamens — clump upon clump, cluster upon cluster, like white clouds floating in the blue sky, and also like snowballs fallen upon the trees.

Dusk was approaching. The cool afternoon breeze surged and eddied through the mountain forests and streets, slowly beating down petal after petal. The beautiful petals danced lightly in the air. Under the golden-yellow glow of the sunset, those dancing flecks seemed to gather together — some like the fiery evening clouds of a summer dusk, dazzling in color, mesmerizing the eyes; some like the hazy morning mist of an early autumn day, indistinct and illusory. Glimmering with crystalline iridescence, now visible, now hidden, they enacted scene after scene of worldly vanity.

The Japanese, especially the court nobles who prided themselves on refinement, were particularly fond of mono no aware — they loved to lament the impermanence of life amid scenes of cold desolation or complex, shifting beauty. And this sight of cherry blossoms scattering across the sky, vanishing in an instant of fleeting splendor, suited their temperament and aesthetic most perfectly, plucking at their heartstrings.

"Cherry blossoms scatter and fall, reflecting the squandered years of this mortal world. The days gone by are bitter and many, hard to know the causes and effects of sorrow and joy. This fleeting world is turbid, an endless wasteland of absurdity and desolation. My heart is sorrowful and bewildered — to whom can I speak these words!"

Amid this scenery, like a painted scroll, a young man suddenly raised high the wine cup before him. Singing loudly, he lifted his head and poured the wine into his mouth.

As soon as he sang, he immediately drew a response from those beside him. Two other young men also sang along in harmony, then likewise poured wine into their mouths.

These few young men sat sprawled carelessly amid the cherry blossom grove. A low table was placed in their midst, laid with quite a bit of wine and some refreshments. Perhaps because they had already drunk a fair amount, their faces were flushed from mild intoxication, their expressions dull, their speech somewhat slurred. In moments of heightened emotion, tears even streamed down their faces. By all indications, this looked like three young scions of court nobles, fond of refinement, gathered for an afternoon of light drinking.

Yet they were no ordinary young men. By their status, they could be said to be the very pinnacle of the current Kyoto court nobility.

The tall, thin young man who gazed at the sky in long song, full of melancholy, was none other than the current Sadaijin and Regent of the imperial court, Ichijo Kaneteru. And the two young men beside him echoing his song were the Udaijin Nijo Yasumichi and the Naidaijin Takatsukasa Norihira.

Ichijo Kaneteru was the head of the Ichijo family, one of the most important branch families of the Fujiwara Northern House — the sekke rank, eligible to serve as Regent and Chancellor. He was also the current head of the entire Fujiwara clan, the Fujiwara clan elder.

The other two came respectively from the Nijo and Takatsukasa families, likewise of the sekke rank.

In its medieval period, Japan modeled its official system after that of Tang China, establishing its own — the Ritsuryo system. Under the Ritsuryo system, the bureaucracy was divided into the Department of Divinities, responsible for rituals, and the Department of State, responsible for government affairs. The apex of the Department of State was the Daijo-daijin, which, following Tang custom, was also called Chancellor. As the highest rank of subject, the court had very rarely conferred the position of Daijo-daijin. After Toyotomi Hideyoshi, no one had held this post for decades.

Below the Daijo-daijin were the Sadaijin and Udaijin. These two official posts were also called, following Tang custom, the "Left Chancellor" and "Right Chancellor." Among them, the Sadaijin's status was slightly higher than the Udaijin's. Thus, in the absence of a Daijo-daijin, the Sadaijin was the apex of the entire court official hierarchy.

At present, Ichijo Kaneteru held the post of Sadaijin — the highest official position among the court nobles — and because the reigning Emperor Okiko was only nine years old, he also held the position of Regent. Nijo Yasumichi and Takatsukasa Norihira, in order after him, held the posts of Udaijin and Naidaijin.

These three men were the pinnacle of court officials within the current court hierarchy — they could be called the "Three Excellencies."

A Naidaijin not yet thirty, an Udaijin not yet thirty, a Sadaijin and Regent not yet thirty — these were the three highest-ranking court officials in the Japanese imperial court today.

It seemed truly laughable that three young men in their twenties could hold the highest official posts, but in truth it was not surprising at all.

Ever since the Fujiwara clan, eight or nine hundred years ago, had pushed out all other non-Fujiwara courtiers, monopolizing power and control over the court, it had become an unwritten rule that the highest court officials must be held by descendants of the Fujiwara. And over the course of a thousand years of proliferation, the Fujiwara clan had produced an enormous number of descendants.

Although the court's official posts were numerous, they were ultimately limited, and the high-ranking posts were very few in number. Thus, after many years of evolution, the Fujiwara clan had internally differentiated into several tiers of branch families.

Only the highest-ranked branch families could produce the Fujiwara clan head, who would be granted the titles of Regent and Chancellor — these were the Five Regent Houses. Below the Five Regent Houses, there were nine families of the highest rank, who could rise as high as the office of Minister of the Left (though they could not hold it long before having to yield the post) — these were the Nine Seiga. Further down came the Minister Houses, the Urin Houses, and other family statuses, with clear regulations stipulating the highest office each tier could attain. In this way, the Fujiwara family achieved internal stratification.

These young men all hailed from the Five Regent Houses, so naturally they rose through the court hierarchy with extreme speed from the very start, climbing straight to the summit in no time.

At the same time, because real power had slipped from the court's grasp, the shogunate had always held the actual authority in Japan. Thus, while the court's official titles and the Fujiwara regental bloodline sounded impressive, in reality they meant very little — no power or influence could be exercised through them. So even members of the Five Regent Houses took scant interest in these offices, resigning after a few years and passing them on to their juniors. Though these young men had become Ministers of the Left, Ministers of the Right, and Inner Ministers, the true leader of the court nobility was the head of the Kujō family, Kujō Yukiie, who had likewise served for some years as Minister of the Left and Chancellor. Now nearing fifty, he was the eldest among the heads of the Five Regent Houses.

It was precisely for these reasons that these young men had been able to reach the apex of the court system so quickly — though, given their aspirations, this meant very little indeed.

In their hearts they still remembered the awe-inspiring authority of the Fujiwara clan in years long past, when they had held the posts of Regent and Chancellor and wielded supreme power in governing the realm. Contrasting that with the present reality, where the imperial court could only silently endure humiliation under the shackles of the Edo Shogunate, they were surely filled with an inexpressible anguish.

Indeed, ever since Minamoto no Yoritomo defeated the Taira clan over five hundred years ago, established the shogunate, and seized absolute power by appointing himself Seii Taishōgun, the imperial family and the Fujiwara clan — who had once stood in opposition and had even clashed repeatedly before — had together fallen into the wretched plight of becoming puppets. Not only was their political power stripped away, but they were also subjected to extremely severe economic restrictions. Even the emperor himself possessed only ten thousand koku of land at the shogunate's sufferance, no more than a slightly larger daimyō.

What was more, as time passed, the shogunate's power only grew. By the era of the Tokugawa Shogunate, the shogunate was essentially unrestrained. To curtail the power of the court and the court nobility, the Tokugawa Shogunate specially promulgated the Laws for the Imperial Palace and Court Nobility. The very first article explicitly stipulated: "The Son of Heaven's various arts and pursuits — foremost among them is scholarship. Without learning, one cannot understand the ancient way, and never has there been one who could govern and bring about peace without it," and "Waka poetry has continued unbroken since Emperor Kōkō; though it be elegant trifles, it is a custom of our land. It must not be cast aside, as it is recorded in the Kinpi Shō that its diligent study is a matter of utmost importance."