Chapter Twenty-Six: The Factional Struggle of the Prince of Qi

After this, throughout the next three years of the Taikang era, Liu Xian indeed never saw Shi Chao, Jia Mi, Wang Zhou, Zhang Wei, or the others again.

This was not, however, because of Liu Xun’s prohibition. Rather, a major upheaval had arisen in Luoyang’s political world, and its repercussions soon spread throughout the great aristocratic clans of the Western Jin.

It was the struggle over the succession, also known as the Qi Prince factional conflict.

The present Son of Heaven, Sima Yan, had already destroyed Wu and pacified Liang, fulfilling the grand ambition of his youth to unite the realm. Yet even now, one matter remained a thorn in his heart: the question of establishing an heir.

This was not because Sima Yan had no crown prince. As early as the third year of the Taishi era, in 267, the fourth year after the conquest of Shu, Sima Yan had made his eldest legitimate son, Sima Zhong, crown prince. Tragically, however, the crown prince was born dull-witted. Even after Sima Yan summoned worthy men from throughout the realm to instruct him and dispel his ignorance, the results remained deeply unsatisfactory. At ten, the crown prince still could not recognize written characters; at fifteen, he could not read. Even upon reaching twenty and undergoing his capping ceremony, his intelligence was no greater than that of a child of seven or eight. It could be said that he possessed not the slightest bearing of a ruler.

The establishment of an heir concerned the survival of the state. The slightest misstep could overturn the dynasty. When Emperor Xuan of Han appointed Emperor Yuan, the throne was eventually usurped by Wang Mang; when Sun Quan manipulated the succession between his two palaces, ruler and subjects were driven apart. These were all warnings left by history. As for Crown Prince Sima Zhong’s inability to fulfill his office, everyone at court knew it perfectly well. Thus, ever since the destruction of Wu, veteran ministers had repeatedly submitted memorials urging that the heir be replaced.

Throughout the dynasties, changing the crown prince had never been easy. The reasons were essentially twofold: first, it violated ritual law; second, it was difficult to distinguish virtue from folly. Yet for the Western Jin at that moment, neither obstacle truly applied. The crown prince was not merely foolish but profoundly dull, incapable even of understanding ritual propriety. What was there left to observe?

And yet Sima Yan remained beset by doubts over replacing the heir. For once the crown prince was changed, ritual law dictated that the new heir could not be one of his own sons. It would have to be his younger brother of the same mother, Sima You, Prince of Qi.

The matter had a long history.

Sima You, Prince of Qi, was the second legitimate son of Emperor Wen of Jin, Sima Zhao. Gifted from childhood, he was said to possess “extraordinary early promise.” As he grew older, his writings became polished and accomplished, and he mastered the classics and histories. He far surpassed his elder brother, Sima Yan, and was deeply loved by his grandfather, Emperor Xuan of Jin, Sima Yi, and his uncle, Emperor Jing of Jin, Sima Shi.

After Sima Yi’s death, Sima Shi took power. Since Sima Shi had no son, Sima Zhao gave Sima You in adoption to his elder brother so that the family line might continue.

Later, during the second campaign against Huainan, Emperor Jing of Jin, Sima Shi, died on the road. Sima Zhao inherited the reins of power, and Sima You received even greater favor from his father. Sima Zhao often patted his own couch and called Sima You by his childhood name, Taofu. He would then jokingly tell his close companions, “This is Taofu’s seat.” By this he meant that, as a father, he had usurped the supreme position that should properly have been inherited by his son.

But when Sima Zhao fell gravely ill, Sima You was still young, and so, in accordance with the ritual principle of succession by the eldest legitimate son, Sima Zhao appointed Sima Yan heir apparent. Before his death, however, he gave Sima Yan a special admonition: he must never imitate the precedent of Cao Pi and Cao Zhi, who had turned against one another and brought harm upon their own house. Instead, he was to live in harmony with Sima You and together preserve the realm. Thus, from the very beginning of Sima Yan’s reign, the political order was effectively founded upon the two brothers’ joint governance.

Once the Western Jin was established, Sima You was enfeoffed as Prince of Qi. He was also appointed General of the Agile Cavalry, given a residence with the privileges of the Three Excellencies, and placed in overall command of military affairs inside and outside the capital. At every court assembly, the Prince of Qi was the first to put forward proposals. Moreover, Sima You was humble and self-effacing, lowering himself to honor the worthy and treating men of talent with respect. He soon won the support of a large number of court officials, who praised him as a “worthy prince.”

Some went even further. In private, they compared Sima Zhao to King Wu of Zhou and Sima You to the Duke of Zhou, believing that the prosperity of the Great Jin would rest with the Prince of Qi.

Under such circumstances, if Sima Yan considered replacing the crown prince, there was only one possible candidate: the Prince of Qi. In terms of clan hierarchy, Sima You’s legitimacy as a son even surpassed Sima Yan’s. Yet for Sima Yan to pass the family inheritance to his brother rather than his own son was something he could not bring himself to accept. Thus, he postponed the matter again and again, until at last it gave rise to the disaster of factional strife.

The conflict began simply enough.

One day, Sima Yan was playing a game of go with the Grand Secretary Zhang Hua. He asked Zhang Hua, “Who in the court could be entrusted with affairs after my death?”

He intended the question as a sign of intimacy. Unexpectedly, Zhang Hua answered without hesitation, “In virtue and in blood, none surpasses the Prince of Qi.”

The emperor’s expression changed at once.

Although Sima Yan had occupied the throne for many years, the court was crowded with powerful clans and aristocratic families, and he had very few men whom he could truly call confidants. Zhang Hua was one of them. Born to a humble family and lacking powerful connections outside the court, Zhang Hua had been vigorously promoted by Sima Yan, who relied upon him as a counselor. Zhang Hua had repaid that trust by aligning himself with the emperor’s wishes at every court deliberation. When the conquest of Wu was being debated, he alone in the entire Luoyang court had stood against the majority and supported the campaign. For a time, the emperor and his minister were celebrated as an exemplary partnership.

Who could have imagined that after so many years of cooperation, Zhang Hua would abandon his former position and support the Prince of Qi in the matter of the succession?

After his initial shock and alarm, Sima Yan immediately appointed Zhang Hua Commander of Military Affairs in Youzhou and sent him away from the capital.

Zhang Hua was widely recognized as a statesman of the highest ability and had long been counted among the emperor’s supporters. His exile for supporting the Prince of Qi immediately caused turmoil throughout the court and the realm. Most officials realized that the question of the succession had reached the point where a decisive confrontation could no longer be avoided.

The Prince of Qi at once stirred public opinion. After Zhang Hua took office in Youzhou, the non-Chinese tribes and the Chinese alike submitted to his authority, and the frontier was pacified. On these grounds, the prince urged officials to send repeated reports praising Zhang Hua’s achievements and requesting that he be recalled to Luoyang. He hoped in this way to pressure the emperor into yielding.

The emperor, however, cited the rebellion of Zhong Hui as a precedent. He believed that Zhang Hua’s honors had already reached their utmost limit and that, like Zhong Hui in former days, he might become impossible to restrain. Should his authority continue to accumulate, rebellion would eventually become inevitable. Thus, the emperor rejected every memorial.

By this point, the positions of the emperor and the Prince of Qi were unmistakably clear, and the officials at court were forced to choose sides.

The Director of the Secretariat, Yang Yao, was the younger brother of the Empress Yang and the maternal uncle of the crown prince. Together with Xun Xu, Supervisor of the Palace Secretariat, and Feng Dan, a Palace Attendant, he analyzed the situation. They concluded that the emperor’s suspicions of the Prince of Qi had grown intense, making this the perfect opportunity to flatter the emperor’s intentions and seize power.

Xun Xu therefore advised Sima Yan, saying, “At present, all officials, within the capital and beyond, have given their allegiance to the Prince of Qi. After Your Majesty’s death, what will become of the crown prince? Your Majesty need only issue a trial edict ordering the Prince of Qi to return to his fief. The entire court will surely cry out against it.”

After the affair involving Zhang Hua, Sima Yan found this argument deeply persuasive. At last, he resolved to alter the complicated arrangement in which the two brothers jointly governed the realm.

In winter, the emperor finally issued an edict:

“Since ancient times, men appointed to the rank of regional lord have either entered the court to assist in governing or gone forth to command the frontier; the purpose has always been the same. Sima You, Prince of Qi, has assisted in establishing the dynasty and rendered arduous service to the royal house. He shall therefore be appointed Grand Marshal and Commander of Military Affairs in Qingzhou, while retaining his office as Palace Attendant. Additional honors and ceremonial privileges shall be bestowed upon him. The responsible authorities are to examine the precedents and carry this into effect.”

Once the edict was issued, the court and the realm erupted in uproar.

On its face, the edict elevated the Prince of Qi. In reality, it removed him from Luoyang and distanced him from the center of power. It was the clearest possible example of an apparent promotion concealing a demotion.

Wang Hun, General Who Conquers the East, immediately submitted a memorial to the emperor, openly declaring, “The Prince of Qi is Your Majesty’s closest kinsman and possesses virtue equal to that of the Duke of Zhou. He should assist the imperial court and be permitted to participate in affairs of state.”

He proposed that the crown prince might inherit the throne in the future while Sima You, Prince of Qi, guided the officials in administering the government, just as the Duke of Zhou had assisted King Cheng.

Afterward, Prince Jun of Fufeng, Grand Master of Palace Revenues Li Xi, Commandant of the Central Guard Yang Xiu, Palace Attendant Wang Ji, Zhen De, and others jointly submitted remonstrances. The emperor rejected them all.

When memorials proved ineffective, the Prince of Qi’s faction devised another plan. They arranged for Wang Ji’s wife, Princess of Changshan, and Zhen De’s wife, Princess of Changguang, to enter the palace together. Before Sima Yan, they wept and pleaded bitterly, as though they had seen their own brother transformed into a corpse. Before long, they were both drenched in tears.

Unable to bear the sisters’ sobbing, Sima Yan tried repeatedly to persuade them but could neither move them nor order them away. At last, exhausted in mind and body, he flew into a rage and shouted before everyone:

“The Prince of Qi and I are brothers of the closest blood. I am merely sending him out to command a province; this is a family matter between brothers. Neither he nor I have said anything, yet Wang Ji and the others have sent women into the palace to wail and make a scene. Do they mean to cry me to death?”

Afterward, Sima Yan demoted Wang Ji to libationer of the National Academy and Zhen De to Grand Herald.

From that moment onward, there was no room left for reconciliation between the imperial in-law faction and the Prince of Qi’s faction.

Under these circumstances, the two great commanders of the imperial guards, Cheng Can, Commandant of the Northern Army, and Yang Xiu, Commandant of the Central Guard, decided to launch a military coup.

They gathered their trusted followers in a secret chamber and deliberated. They believed that among the emperor’s supporters, Yang Yao, Director of the Secretariat, was both talented and intelligent, and the central figure among the imperial in-laws. If they suddenly raised troops and seized and killed him, then carried his head before the emperor in a military remonstrance, the faction of the imperial in-laws would naturally collapse. In that way, the trust between the imperial brothers might yet be restored.

Unfortunately, the two men had not kept their deliberations secret. Many of their own subordinates were secretly in Yang Yao’s service. They settled their plan that evening, and within an hour Yang Yao had learned of it.

Greatly alarmed, Yang Yao immediately claimed illness and fled home in the middle of the night. He shut his doors and refused to receive anyone who came to invite him out. At the same time, he reported the affair to the emperor, had Cheng Can and Yang Xiu removed from their military commands, and took the opportunity to exclude his political enemy, Grand Master of Palace Revenues Li Xi, from the inner court.

Once the attempted military remonstrance was exposed, Yang Xiu committed suicide, while Li Xi died of illness. The entire capital became tense, as if swords had been drawn.

In former days, the great aristocratic clans had maintained close ties, sharing common interests and supporting one another. Now, those not yet caught up in the factional struggle, such as the Jia clan of Pingyang, shut their gates and kept out of the affair, terrified of becoming entangled. Those already deeply immersed in the conflict, such as the Wang clan of Taiyuan, became intensely vigilant, treating every rustle in the grass as a possible enemy and guarding against another coup.

The elegant scenes of former days, when men visited one another from gate to gate to discuss philosophy and metaphysics, vanished completely for a time. Even so, reports of small-scale clashes continued to emerge from the city.

Then came a heavy snowfall. Wind and snow blanketed Luoyang. By day, the hundred households shut their gates, making the capital seem like an empty city. Only at night could lights still be seen glowing behind closed doors.

It was in this atmosphere that the fourth year of the Taikang era arrived.