Jinting Han people

Sima Yu's life was already on a countdown, but for the political struggle in Luoyang, everything was just beginning.

After the Crown Prince left Luoyang, the Empress, upon hearing that many people had participated in his farewell, was naturally furious. Believing she had defeated the Crown Prince and regained absolute power, she reverted to her former arrogant ways. She immediately dispatched an order to Man Fen, the Commandant of the Capital Region, vowing to imprison all those who had shown disrespect to the Emperor. It seemed she intended to use this as an opportunity to launch a massive purge of the Crown Prince's faction.

But the result was beyond the Empress's expectations. This action, which should have been an exercise of her supreme authority, quickly turned into a mess and left the place in ruins.

First of all, there were simply too many people to arrest. This farewell to the Crown Prince, whether instigated by someone or not, resulted in tens of thousands of people, including commoners. Although Luoyang is a large city with hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, and manpower is negligible, such a massive number clearly exceeded the scope for arrests, making even compiling a list of prisoners extremely difficult.

Secondly, even excluding commoners, arresting only the sons of officials who disobeyed orders would be relatively easy. However, even so, it would still require the involvement of over a thousand people. Man Fen led his constables to arrest people everywhere, but the other side did not make any arrests.

Ironically, Luoyang's prisons are not enough.

There were four prisons in Luoyang: the Sili Prison under the jurisdiction of the Sili Commandant, the Imperial Prison under the jurisdiction of the Court of Justice, the Henan Prison under the jurisdiction of the Henan Governor, and the Luoyang Prison under the jurisdiction of the Luoyang Magistrate. The size and variety of its prisons were unmatched by any other city in the entire country.

Even so, the prisons in Luoyang quickly became overcrowded. Countless scions of noble families were crammed into the prisons, often with seven or eight people sharing a single cell, as crowded as a granary full of wheat. The scene was perhaps even more spectacular than the persecution of the partisans during the reign of Emperor Ling of Han.

Most importantly, the situation had become so chaotic that the prison official was unwilling to obey the Empress's orders and take responsibility for persecuting the Crown Prince's faction.

Yin Leguang, the governor of Henan, was the first to express his opinion. As a leader of a noble family whose reputation was no less than that of Wang Yan, he released all the prisoners in Henan prison and publicly stated that he was willing to be punished if the Empress and Duke Lu wanted to pursue the matter.

The Commandant of Sili, Man Fen, was a shrewd man. He never brought prisoners to the Sili prison. When he learned that Le Guang was releasing people indiscriminately in the Henan prison, he simply sent all the prisoners to the Henan prison. If anything went wrong, Le Guang would take the blame, but they would share the good reputation.

Cao Shu, the magistrate of Luoyang, dared not do what Yue Guang did, but he could not withstand the pressure. He asked Sun Yan, an official in charge of the capital, to persuade Jia Mi: "When you deposed the crown prince, you proclaimed that the crown prince had committed numerous evils and was unforgivable. But now so many people are willing to go to jail for the crown prince. If they are really imprisoned, wouldn't that be proclaiming that the crown prince is popular? Why not release them all?"

Jia Mi hadn't expected things to escalate to this point. The purge had turned into a farce, and there was no point in persisting. In the end, he had no choice but to agree. He hurriedly went to the palace to see the Empress and rescinded the edict ordering the arrests.

In just three or four days, the Hou Party's originally large-scale purge ended inconclusively.

The Empress also sensed the crisis in her rule, and thus, as planned, spread rumors that she intended to appoint Sima Yun, the Prince of Huainan, as Crown Prince, attempting to offset the disastrous consequences of dismissing Sima Yu. However, it was clear to everyone that this was merely a delaying tactic. If she wanted to appoint a Crown Prince, she could have simply issued an edict; why bother with this roundabout test?
And indeed, that was the case. Rumors circulated within the palace that the Empress had not been seen for two or three months, claiming she was pregnant. If the child was born and it was a boy, he would undoubtedly be the new Crown Prince; what chance would the Prince of Huainan have?
But when they considered her age, something seemed off. The Empress was already forty-three years old, and her last pregnancy was thirteen years ago. Logically, it should be very difficult to conceive at this age. Besides, why did she conceive now of all times, instead of earlier?
Therefore, some people soon speculated that, having heard that Han Shou and Jia Sanmei had recently had a son, the Empress might be planning to pull off a coup and transfer the throne to the Jia family.
This speculation, though baseless, spread throughout the city almost overnight, with everyone speaking of it with great conviction. The Empress Dowager's faction, which hadn't been so arrogant for long, suddenly fell silent upon seeing public opinion shift so dramatically. Even Duke Lu, Jia Mi, hid in his Golden Valley Garden, refusing to see anyone, as if all the strife would simply dissipate after a while. But was that truly the case?

Even Wang Cui sensed something was wrong. He said to Liu Xian, "Strange? I thought the Empress and Duke Lu had the situation under control. How did it turn out like this after just a few days? How did they manage to defeat the Crown Prince?"

Liu Xian had anticipated this, and he explained, "Hongyuan, the Crown Prince was not defeated by the Empress; he lost to the hearts of the people."

"Human hearts?" Wang Cui was greatly puzzled.

"Yes, it is the human heart. I also underestimated the human heart. If the human heart is a river, then the ten years after Emperor Wu's death have probably been a harsh winter for the human heart."

During this time, Liu Xian had been reflecting on his actions upon returning to Luoyang, trying to figure out where he had made a huge mistake. Previously, being in the thick of things, there were some things he hadn't been able to see. But now that the defeat was undeniable, he finally understood some of the current situation to some extent:
"The empress and Jia Mi tried to keep power in their hands forever, using conspiracies to frame their opponents and force to intimidate the world. They only knew how to take, but not how to give. They seemed to still have great power, but they destroyed the little trust and righteousness that existed in the world. People's hearts have grown cold. Over the past ten years, the surface of this river has been covered with an unbreakable layer of ice."

"The empress probably felt smug about it. She had tormented people's hearts and won an unprecedented victory, so much so that even the rivers in the world dared not flow eastward."

"But when has there ever been a river that is frozen forever on this land? Beneath the solid ice are countless undercurrents. Everyone is just pretending, accumulating strength, and waiting for the right moment to turn the river ice into an unstoppable ice jam."

"And the Crown Prince is like the riverbank that prevents the ice jams from spreading."

Liu Xian closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and slowly said, "But the Empress not only didn't understand this, she also thought that the river embankment restricted her power. So she took the initiative to dig up the river embankment."

"The Crown Prince is like a river embankment, seemingly unshakable when it stands still. But he bears the greatest pressure of the river, and his foundation is already riddled with holes. With just a gentle push, he will easily collapse. How could the Empress not succeed? I only understand now that the Crown Prince's situation has been a dead end ever since Emperor Wu of Jin passed the throne to the current emperor."

Upon hearing this, Wang Cui couldn't help but recall the past factional struggles of the Prince of Qi, and nodded, saying, "Perhaps if the late emperor had passed the throne to the Prince of Qi, things wouldn't have come to this."

Liu Xian didn't reply. He lay on the bed, still immersed in his reflections, thinking about things that were not suitable to be said.

In fact, these were things his teacher, Chen Shou, had taught him long ago. When Chen Shou first taught him about faith and righteousness, he said that if a world loses faith and righteousness, people will become like beasts, endlessly killing each other, turning the world into a wasteland. Isn't everything happening now a fulfillment of this truth? And his original idea was to rely on Sima Yu, the last bastion of the Jin dynasty, to exchange for a chance to restore the country—how could this be anything but a pipe dream? In truth, no one ever supported Sima Yu, not even himself. To try to achieve a successful coup in this way was like adding fuel to the fire; it was contradictory from the very beginning.

Upon careful consideration, Liu Xian realized that he was not entirely unaware of this. However, he was caught in a dilemma: he wanted to restore his kingdom, yet he was unwilling to make even the slightest concession to Jia Mi, much less betray his promise and switch sides. Consequently, even though Sima Yu hadn't presented him with a convincing coup plan, Liu Xian still carried it out with skepticism.

Why is this happening? What is the right thing to do? In this chaotic and dark political situation, Liu Xian sees no path that can satisfy him. In fact, he has been troubled by this question since returning to Luoyang in March, and it remains unresolved to this day.

On the very day Sima Yu was deposed, an even greater question arose in his mind: why did the people he trusted always end up in such an awkward situation?

Liu Xian immediately realized that this was indeed a problem. The problem faced by Sima Yu and others was also his personal predicament. At the critical moment when a great river was about to breach its banks and was raging wildly in the wilderness, individual choices seemed so insignificant. No one cared about right or wrong between people.

Before his death, Chen Shou, the teacher, warned that this might be a period of great chaos lasting for hundreds of years. Rather than trying to stem the tide, it would be better to find a way to gracefully withdraw from the center of power and carefully manage one's own family. In short, in times of turmoil, survival is everything.

But in Liu Xian's view, running away from challenges was a coward's survival philosophy, and he simply couldn't bear to become one. Yet, he found it utterly unimaginable to devise a way out for the future.

Liu Xian was stuck in a dead end, tossing and turning on his sickbed in deep thought. Whether during the day or in his dreams, he pondered this problem, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he had no way out.

Is this world really so absurd that people who believe in integrity can end up with nowhere to turn?
At this moment, Liu Xian suddenly understood the feelings of Ruan Ji and Mencius. Why would someone who could write the lines, "Look at Zhuangzi, what do glory and decline matter?" be so pathetic as to cry in despair? Why would someone who could say, "I am good at cultivating my vast and righteous spirit," say, "When poor, one should cultivate one's own virtue"?

Thinking about this, Liu Xian felt somewhat disheartened. To be honest, his current predicament wasn't the biggest setback of his life, at least not as severe as it had been nine years ago. However, it had caused him to question himself. While doubt is a normal part of life, for someone who is mature and ambitious, confusion and hesitation are far more unacceptable.

He muttered to himself, "No matter what, only by making a name for myself can I do justice to all those who have died."

“I have anticipated and resolved many difficulties. This time is no exception. I believe that there is no mountain that cannot be crossed and no road that cannot be traversed in the world.”

About seven or eight days later, the wound on his right shoulder had begun to heal, and he was able to move around a little. Liu Xian then tried to force himself to forget this confusion. In the past, he would practice swordsmanship until he was drenched in sweat, leaving himself no time to think and relying solely on instinct to fight. Now that he was injured and could not practice swordsmanship, Liu Xian asked Wang Cui for a bamboo flute, intending to use music to soothe his inner unease.

Filled with resentment, Liu Xian yearned for battle. Therefore, the music he played was the stirring "Armored Warriors' Battle Song," like layers of iron cavalry trampling the ground, startling birds into flight, and terrifying beasts charging. It also seemed like the vast and desolate天地 (heaven and earth) pressing down on the lonely man. Liu Xian poured his emotions into the music; as he played, the melody and rhythm grew increasingly soaring, a blend of sorrow and heroism, a fusion of grief and anger, evoking the feeling of rising at the crowing of the rooster and marching in battle.

One song couldn't quell his anger, so he played it over and over again. It was as if he had returned to the battlefield in Kansai, riding a steed with fluttering banners above him, galloping across the flat ground beneath his feet, his body covered in hot blood, the whistling of arrows in his ears, and the cold blades before him. The world was vast and desolate, and killing the enemy was his only mission.

Since the performance took place in the backyard, the servants of the Marquis of Xiangyang's residence could hear the music. Wang Cui was not in the residence at the time, so they curiously gathered around. By the time Liu Xian finished, many onlookers had unknowingly accumulated.

They cheered for Liu Xian's music and praised him, saying, "The magistrate's music is truly a hero's tune. Even though we have never been on the battlefield, it gives us renewed courage!"

Seeing these smiling faces, Liu Xian felt much more at ease, so he joked with them, "What do you want to hear? I can play it for you."

Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, the servants scattered like birds, leaving Liu Xian bewildered. Turning around, he discovered that Princess Yingchuan, Sima Xiuhua, was standing behind him. He quickly rose to greet her, saying, "Greetings, Your Highness."

Xiu Hua looked at the flute in Liu Xian's hand, seemingly recalling many things, and quickly waved his hand, saying, "You are injured, why bother with formalities?"

He added, "Do you remember back then? When you were at Fifth Brother's house, you played a tune for me. I never imagined that so many years would have passed in the blink of an eye."

Liu Xian felt somewhat awkward. Logically, the princess was Wang Cui's wife, a female relative, and the two should have avoided any appearance of impropriety. As a classic defender of feudal morality, Liu Xian truly didn't know what to say in this situation.

Fortunately, someone broke the awkward silence.

At this moment, a maidservant hurried over and said to the princess with a bewildered expression, "Your Highness, Sun Xiu, the Chief Secretary of the Prince of Zhao, has come to visit."

He said he wanted to meet Magistrate Liu.

Liu Xian put down his bamboo flute, thinking: What was bound to happen has finally happened. (End of Chapter)