Chapter Sixteen: A Jest of History

Page 1 of 3

Jia Xu smacked his lips, patted his belly, and sprawled back in satisfaction. “This place really is the best. Just look at all this beef—we can’t even finish it…” He picked up another piece and tried to put it in his mouth, but the moment he tilted his head back and opened his mouth, he let out a loud belch. With an expression of deep regret, he reluctantly returned the meat to the plate.

Li Ru had finished eating long ago. He held a cup of tea in one hand and a bamboo scroll in the other, sipping as he read. At Jia Xu’s words, the corner of his eye twitched faintly. “Whatever we cannot finish, Wenhe, you may take home.”

“What would be the point? I wouldn’t be able to finish it for a while even after taking it home. And if someone saw it, would I have to share it with them or not? Why invite that sort of trouble? Hmm… You still have the leisure to read? The chaos outside is your doing, isn’t it?”

“Mm.” Li Ru answered through his nose, indicating that such a meaningless question required no further reply.

Jia Xu counted on his fingers. “First, ruin Dong Zhongying’s reputation. Then spread rumors about him monopolizing power and governing recklessly. After that, split apart and win over the generals under his command. Finally, make a grand entrance and save the day… I say, are you really sure it is wise to follow their script like this?”

“What problem is there?” Li Ru replied casually, his head lowered over the bamboo scroll. “I was planning to follow their script in the first place.”

Jia Xu froze, then blinked in confusion. “That can’t be right… If you do that, your only path will be the path of force. Why would you abandon the path of benevolent rule? When did you change your mind?”

Li Ru did not answer him directly. Without raising his head, he asked as though it were merely idle conversation, “Wenhe, you are skilled in military formations and strategy. Why don’t I pose a question for you to solve?”

“A military exercise and tactical analysis?” Jia Xu became interested, and even slipped into formal speech. “Very well. Set forth your challenge.”

“Heh heh. Wenhe, suppose you have an army of ten thousand, made up of local militia and mountain bandits… Its equipment is insufficient, its warhorses are insufficient, and its provisions are insufficient…”

After hearing Li Ru list one deficiency after another, Jia Xu’s face darkened. “What else is insufficient?”

“Nothing else. Listen carefully—Wenhe, you have ten thousand…”

“Ten thousand disorderly rabble. I understand. What next?” Jia Xu could not summon the slightest enthusiasm for these “disorderly rabble” who possessed no fighting strength, and half-collapsed in his seat.

Li Ru continued, “You are besieged in a small city, with another ten thousand or so troops coming to your aid…” He glanced at Jia Xu. “…also disorderly rabble…”

Jia Xu immediately slumped a little farther.

“Your opponent is four hundred thousand provincial troops and imperial guards from across the realm. Your ultimate objective is to achieve a total victory and rout the enemy within a single night!”

Jia Xu gaped at him. After a long moment, he pointed at Li Ru. “Are you making sport of me? How could such an army possibly crush the enemy?”

Are you joking with me, Li Ru? Two tens of thousands of rabble against four hundred thousand regular troops, and you expect a complete rout? Even if the enemy simply lined up and refused to resist while you cut off their heads at will, your blades would grow dull before you finished!

Once numbers reach a certain point, they produce a qualitative change, all right? Never mind twenty thousand against four hundred thousand—even two men against forty men would have no choice but to run. How could they possibly crush the enemy? And you demand that it happen in a single night? Do you take every one of these rabble for a shapeshifter?

Page 1 of 3

Page 2 of 3

Li Ru passed over the bamboo scroll and gestured for Jia Xu to read it himself.

Jia Xu first glanced at its title and blurted out, “Annotations by Emperor Guangwu? How did you get this? Ah—did you raid the imperial treasury?”

“There was no need to raid it,” Li Ru said blandly. “I simply ordered them to send it over.”

Jia Xu skimmed the scroll at a glance and finished it in moments. He spoke in disbelief. “This is simply—simply beyond belief. It is utterly absurd! Look here—”

He pointed to a line on the scroll, clearly unable to accept what it described. The text read:

“At night, a meteor fell into the camp. By day, clouds appeared like a collapsing mountain; they fell upon the camp, yet scattered before reaching the ground by a mere foot. Officers and soldiers alike were terrified and prostrated themselves.”

Would people of later generations find this description strangely familiar?

Li Ru said, “Then how do you think an army of twenty thousand could defeat four hundred thousand in a single night? In the end, that army of four hundred thousand was reduced to only three thousand.”

“This…” Jia Xu was rendered speechless.

Li Ru pointed toward the bamboo scrolls piled beside him like a small mountain. “I have always been troubled by that inexplicable defeat two hundred years ago. The situation was clearly so favorable—how did it collapse into total ruin in the blink of an eye? Ever since I had these scrolls brought out for examination, the more I read, the more uneasy I became. Perhaps there is a side to this world beyond what you and I can comprehend.”

Li Ru frowned and tapped his head with a finger. “The path of benevolent rule requires too much time. What would we do if another incident like this occurred before we were ready?”

“So you chose the path of force because it is faster? But in doing so, the difficulties you must face will increase by far more than a little!”

“Which do you think is easier,” Li Ru asked, pointing to the scroll in Jia Xu’s hands, “facing those difficulties, or facing something like this?”

“Hiss…” Jia Xu began to feel a headache coming on. “Then let us choose the path of force. If what the scroll records is true, there is simply no way to counter it…”

Li Ru and Jia Xu could both be counted among the foremost intellects of their age. As a result, they considered matters more deeply than most. As Li Ru had feared, the path of benevolent rule was naturally the ideal one. It relied almost entirely on overwhelming others through sheer momentum, advancing one steady step at a time and building an unshakable foundation. Even localized defeats would be of little consequence; in the end, the overall situation would follow the tide of history, against which no one could resist.

Its sole disadvantage was that the initial preparations required far too much time. The deeper the roots, the faster the final advance.

The path of force, by contrast, involved weakening the enemy and converting its strength into one’s own. By constantly eroding and devouring hostile powers, one’s own forces would rapidly expand, while victory after victory kept all conflicts suppressed before they could erupt. Yet at the moment of final success, the slightest mistake could cause internal and external contradictions to burst forth simultaneously, making one’s entire cause collapse as swiftly as melting snow.

When Li Ru had originally assisted Dong Zhuo in Western Liang, he had followed the path of benevolent rule almost exclusively. He had forged the Western Liang army into an extraordinarily sturdy structure: a perfected pyramid, with elite local Western Liang soldiers forming its framework and surrendered Qiang and Hu tribesmen serving as auxiliary troops. Layer upon layer, whenever a Western Liang soldier at one level fell in battle, a soldier from the level below would automatically rise to replace him, ensuring the unbroken execution of military orders and an exceptionally powerful capacity for discipline.

After arriving in the capital, however, Li Ru had sought to resolve the doubts weighing on his mind and ordered the books stored in the imperial treasury archives to be brought out for examination. Only then did he discover that the longer one delayed, the more likely it became that some unforeseen change would arise—especially when that change exceeded all imagination.

The matter Li Ru and Jia Xu were discussing was one of history’s great unsolved mysteries. It was one of the Han dynasty’s unpredictable turning points, an inexplicable twist in the course of events. Sadly, that great pioneer had failed to complete his transformation.

That great pioneer was named Wang Mang.

Page 2 of 3

Page 3 of 3

It was the final years of the Former Han, more than a century and a half after the dynasty’s founding. By the time Wang Mang was born, the Wang clan had already become the foremost of the imperial in-law families. His aunt was the empress, his uncles took turns serving as Grand Commandants, and even the least successful members of the clan were generals or marquises. The entire family was steeped in privilege.

In those days, Wang Mang devoted himself to study and lived simply, utterly unlike the other young heirs who indulged in sensual pleasures, extravagance, debauchery, and every imaginable vice. After his father and elder brothers died, he supported his mother and widowed elder sister-in-law alone, raised his elder brother’s orphaned children, cared for the clan’s elders and uncles within the family, and cultivated friendships with renowned figures and virtuous scholars beyond it. Before long, the entire imperial court and official world had taken notice of him, and Wang Mang’s reputation grew steadily greater.

Later, in his twenties, Wang Mang was recommended for government office on the strength of his reputation for virtue and ability. Once in office, he did not become arrogant. Instead, he grew even more modest and frugal, becoming a model of exemplary conduct. He often took his salary and personal wealth and distributed them among the poor or gave them to worthy scholars. Thus his office rose higher and higher, while his reputation grew ever greater. From the court to the countryside, everyone praised Wang Mang as the ideal man of the age. The approval of the upright scholars and the hopes of the common people alike were firmly in his grasp.

Was this not a stable enough foundation? Had he not planted his roots deeply enough?

In the first year of the new era, Wang Mang was enfeoffed as the Duke of Anhan, and from that point onward he held all power in his hands. He bestowed titles and rewards upon nobles and officials, provided for widowers, widows, orphans, and the childless, and extended favors to the common people and scholars. Every social class was grateful to him.

He led by example in living simply. Records state that he donated a million coins and more than three thousand acres of land to relieve the poor around the capital, and the officials of the court followed his lead, imitating him without exception. The following year, when a great drought struck the entire realm, Wang Mang led more than two hundred officials in donating their own lands and residences to disaster victims. He also ordered the construction of large numbers of free homes so that the refugees could settle in peace. The Han dynasty had achieved rent-free housing!

Having gone this far, Wang Mang was hailed throughout the realm as a sage of the age. People bowed before him in worship. From then on, every road lay open, and every obstacle had been trampled beneath his feet.

In the eighth year, Wang Mang smoothly accepted the abdication of Emperor Ruzi Ying, ascended the throne, and changed the name of the realm to Xin. The court and the countryside alike erupted in celebration, with almost no one offering opposition. By all rights, Wang Mang had followed the path of benevolent rule to perfection. With such a firm foundation and supporters ranging from the court to the fields, he should have reached a flawless conclusion.

Yet history seemed to have played a cruel joke…

Wang Mang subsequently introduced a series of new policies. Several of them were particularly intriguing:

Land nationalization—the land would no longer be privately owned, but gathered entirely into the possession of the state. Does that sound familiar?

Redistribution of farmland—the estates of great landlords would be confiscated and distributed according to need to farmers without land. Does that sound even more familiar?

Freezing the institution of slavery—taking a great leap over feudal serfdom and moving directly beyond it. This one… well, heh.

Centralization of currency issuance—local authorities would no longer possess the right to mint money; instead, the central government would print and issue it uniformly.

Government intervention in the economy—the government would participate in setting and guiding prices, while establishing state monopolies over industries such as salt and iron.

There were also various detailed provisions that need not be listed here. But even judging from these few measures alone, does it not give you an extraordinarily familiar feeling? Just remember: this was the final era of the Former Han, at the beginning of the Common Era, when Jesus was still only a tiny child…