BSI Chapter 11 The Marquis of Liang Returns to His Country
Chapter 11 The Marquis of Liang Returns to His Country
"The Xia dynasty used the first month of spring as the calendar, the Yin dynasty used the last month of winter, and the Zhou dynasty used the middle month of winter." — *Shangshu Dazhuan*
After quelling the rebellion of the Three Guards, Ji Dan and Duke Shao Shi divided the territory and ruled Shaanxi.
With Shaanxi as the boundary, Ji Dan ruled east of Shaanxi, and Shao Gong ruled west of Shaanxi. The two erected a stone pillar as the boundary.
To strengthen military control, Ji Dan also reorganized the army and established three standing armies: the "Eight Divisions of Chengzhou" (about 20,000 men) stationed in Luoyi (Chengzhou) to pacify the southern barbarians.
The "Eight Divisions of Yin," composed of remnants of the Yin people, were stationed in the east to monitor the Yin people.
The six armies (Western Six Armies) of the Emperor, who defended Zongzhou (Haojing), guarded the western lands.
The three armies, totaling over 100,000 men, were commanded by nobles appointed by the Zhou emperor to ensure the smooth operation of the Zhou state apparatus.
In the spring of the seventh year of Ji Dan's regency, King Cheng turned fifteen. According to the rites, King Cheng could take over state affairs when he was fourteen, but Ji Dan still delayed until now.
It wasn't that he coveted power, but rather that he wanted to return a different Zhou dynasty to King Cheng.
……
That morning, Zhang Zhao had just entered the Sima Office when he received a message from the palace: "The Emperor requests that Marquis Liang enter the palace."
When he entered the palace, he found the hall already full of people. Ji Dan was wearing his usual old, faded black robe, not the official robes of the prime minister, nor a crown.
He stood in the center of the hall, before an empty throne—King Cheng had not yet arrived.
"Duke Zhao, you've arrived." Ji Dan nodded to him.
Zhang Zhao seemed about to say something, but Ji Dan shook his head. He didn't speak again and silently joined the ranks of the civil officials.
Before long, King Cheng emerged from behind the palace.
The fifteen-year-old emperor was a little taller than he had been three years ago. He had a thin face, a steady gaze, and the jade beads on his crown hung down in front of his forehead, swaying gently with his steps.
He walked to the throne and stood there, but instead of sitting down, he looked at Ji Dan.
Ji Dan, taking the fall of the Shang Dynasty as a lesson, warned King Cheng to understand the hardships of farming and to refrain from pleasure-seeking and hunting.
Then Ji Dan slowly knelt down, faced King Cheng, and performed the salute of a subject, saying, "Your subject Dan returns power to Your Majesty."
King Cheng's eyes immediately reddened.
He did not immediately help Ji Dan up, but first turned to the officials in the hall, his voice steady and clear: "When I was young, my uncle acted as regent, exercising the power of the emperor on my behalf. Now that I have come of age, my uncle has returned power to me. From this day forward, I will rule personally, and my uncle will be my subject."
He bent down to help Ji Dan up, took Ji Dan's hand, and led him to the throne, where he seated Ji Dan to sit beside it—not on the throne, but beside it. A new chair had been placed there, slightly lower than the throne but slightly higher than the seats of the courtiers.
"Uncle, your service is immense, and I dare not treat you merely as a subject. From now on, you shall sit in this position in the court." King Cheng's gaze swept over the assembled officials, his voice not loud but each word clear, "Does anyone have any objections?"
The hall was completely silent.
As Zhang Zhao watched this scene, he recalled the child who cried uncontrollably on Ji Dan's back seven years ago, the young emperor who commanded the siege of Yan State three years ago, and the composed young monarch standing before the throne at this moment.
King Wu is gone, but his son has not let him down.
After returning power to the emperor, Ji Dan was busier and quieter than when he was regent. He spent his days in the government office organizing the articles on rites and music, repeatedly deliberating, revising, adding, and deleting with Zhang Zhao, writing down the five rites, five relationships, five tones, and eight sounds that they had discussed over the years on bamboo slips.
The work is meticulous and tedious; a single etiquette item may need to be revised dozens of times, and even a single word must be carefully considered.
Ji Dan would sometimes argue with Zhang Zhao until late at night over a matter of etiquette, and then come back early the next morning with new ideas to continue the argument.
Zhang Zhao once asked him, "Fourth Prince, you were busy when you were regent, and even busier after you returned power. When will you finally stop being so busy?"
Ji Dan thought for a moment and said seriously, "Wait until the day when the rites and music are truly established."
Zhang Zhao then asked, "What happened after the rites and music were established?"
"Revise the history books. The book left by the Grand Historian Xin Jia is still far from complete."
Xin Jia passed away not long after he quelled the rebellion of the Three Guards.
Only a half-finished history book remained.
Zhang Zhao then asked, "What happens after the history book is completed?"
Ji Dan was silent for a moment, then smiled and said, "Well...we'll talk about it later."
Zhang Zhao looked at him but didn't ask, "Aren't you planning to go to Lu to be enfeoffed?" Because both of them knew that he probably wouldn't be able to go in this lifetime.
And so Ji Dan kept busy every day. After three years, he fell ill. In that year, Zhang Zhao was already forty-one years old.
He joined King Wu with his entire clan when he was twenty-five, implemented new policies in Fengyi for three years, and experienced King Wu's conquest of Zhou. He was thirty-one when King Wu entrusted his son to him, and thirty-eight when Ji Dan returned power to him.
Now, he's almost an old man.
Upon hearing the news that Ji Dan was seriously ill in bed, he rushed to Ji Dan's residence and pushed open the courtyard gate. The courtyard was quiet, with only a few disciples guarding the corridor, their eyes red.
He walked straight into the main hall, where Ji Dan was lying on the couch, so thin that he was almost nothing but skin and bones.
Ji Dan opened his eyes upon hearing footsteps, a slight smile playing on his lips, and said in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "Duke Zhao, you've arrived."
Zhang Zhao knelt before the bed, holding Ji Dan's hand. The hand was cold and withered, but he simply held it tightly.
"Duke Zhao," Ji Dan's voice trailed off, "after I die, bury me in Chengzhou. Do not bury me in Biyuan, nor beside King Wen or King Wu."
Zhang Zhao seemed about to say something, but Ji Dan shook his head. "In life, I cannot leave the king; in death, I should not be far from him."
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering his strength, "Chengzhou is an important town in the east. Being buried there is like me still guarding the east."
Zhang Zhao's tears finally fell, silently sliding down his cheeks.
Ji Dan did not speak again.
That night, Duke Zhou, Ji Dan, died at his residence in Haojing.
Upon hearing the news, King Cheng collapsed in tears in the palace, and all his ministers wore mourning clothes.
In accordance with Ji Dan's last wishes, King Cheng ordered that he be buried in Chengzhou to show that he would never leave King Cheng.
But halfway through the journey, a thunderstorm struck, accompanied by fierce winds. All the crops in the fields were flattened, and large trees were uprooted. The people were terrified, believing it to be divine wrath.
King Cheng stood in the hall, silent for a long time, and suddenly said, "How dare I treat my uncle as a subject?" After saying this, he burst into tears.
Zhang Zhao knelt in the hall, where King Cheng's cries echoed in the empty space. He recalled Ji Dan's dying words, "Bury me in Chengzhou," and his words, "I cannot live without you, so I will not be far from you in death." He also recalled Ji Fa's dying words, "Fourth brother, carry the king on your back."
These two brothers, one entrusted the world to his younger brother, and the other dedicated his life to his nephew.
King Cheng eventually reburied Ji Dan at Biyuan, next to the tombs of King Wen and King Wu.
On the day of the burial, Zhang Zhao stood in front of the grave, watching the coffin slowly fall into the ground.
The wind blew from Qishan, making the spirit banner flutter loudly. He finally understood why thunder and rain had fallen, causing crops to bend and trees to be uprooted.
Perhaps this isn't divine wrath, but rather divine weeping. Heaven itself is weeping for the Duke of Zhou (a figure in Chinese mythology associated with dreams).
He knelt down and kowtowed three times to the tomb, his forehead touching the cold earth, and remained there for a long time.
The bells of Haojing behind us rang out nine times, their deep tolling echoing throughout the Guanzhong Plain.
……
After the funeral, Zhang Zhao returned to the Sima Office and sat alone in the empty office until late at night.
Several scrolls of bamboo slips were piled on the desk, representing unfinished government affairs.
Zhang Zhao read it once, then read it again, rolled up the bamboo slips, and put them back on the table.
Half a month later, King Cheng announced a new appointment in the court: "Marquis of Liang, Zhang Zhao, is given the title of Grand Tutor and will be in charge of military and political affairs."
Zhang Zhao knelt to express his gratitude. When he stood up, he saw King Cheng's gaze. Those eyes were very much like King Wu's, and also very much like Ji Dan's. It was a combination of King Wu's sharpness and Ji Dan's composure, forming a light that he had never seen before. He lowered his head and dared not look at him anymore.
After that, Zhang Zhao became even busier, and ten years later...
King Cheng was young and energetic, and he would ask Zhang Zhao about everything, big or small. Zhang Zhao would answer him one by one, never giving a perfunctory answer.
But he's no longer the man who could stay up for several nights in a row at the Sima Bureau.
He was fifty-one years old, his hair was mostly white, his back was hunched, and he had to hold the lamp close to his eyes to see the bamboo slips clearly.
He knew he wouldn't last much longer, but he dared not fall ill.
When he fell ill, there was no one left in the court.
Duke Shao was in the State of Shao, Duke Bi was old and ailing, and Jiang Shang was far away in the State of Qi. In the vast capital of Haojing, there was not a single person to entrust with their affairs.
The following autumn, Zhang Zhao fell ill.
Perhaps it was because he wanted to do everything himself, or perhaps it was because he missed Sihao and Chengsi.
Since Zhang Chengsi was born, the father and son have only been able to see each other a handful of times.
He was so busy that he almost forgot that he still had a group of clansmen in Liang Kingdom and a wife who was looking forward to his arrival day and night.
……
That day, he was reviewing documents at the Sima Office when suddenly everything went black, and the engraving pen in his hand fell to the ground.
He tried to bend down to pick it up, but his body wouldn't obey him, and he fell forward.
The servants rushed in to support him, but he waved his hand and said he was fine. However, he could no longer stand and had to be carried back to the mansion.
Lying on the couch, Zhang Zhao stared at the ceiling and suddenly felt like crying.
It wasn't because of illness, but because he remembered Si Hao.
He recalled that she married him at the age of twenty-one, followed him from Chaoge to Fengyi at the age of twenty-two, and moved from Fengyi to Haojing with him at the age of twenty-four.
Thinking of her alone in Liang, guarding that desolate land for him, raising his heir, and managing the Zhang family for him, for twenty years without a single complaint.
He thought of Chengsi.
He remembered pointing to Gaojing on a map when he was a child and saying, "Father is here." He remembered turning back and calling out, "Father, come back soon," when he left Gaojing at the age of five. He waited eleven years for that call, but it never came.
He thought of Zhang Ke.
I recall him leading his entire clan to the Liang Kingdom, where he guarded my fiefdom for twenty-one years. From a young lad, he grew into a middle-aged man with graying temples, becoming the backbone of the Zhang clan in the Liang Kingdom.
He owes his relatives and clansmen too much.
When King Cheng heard that Zhang Zhao had fallen ill, he personally came to the palace to visit him. He sat by the bed, holding Zhang Zhao's hand, his eyes red, but he held back his tears.
"Grand Tutor, you can't be harmed. What will I do if something happens to you?"
King Cheng did not claim to be an orphan or a widow; in front of Zhang Zhao, he was merely a child afraid of the sudden death of his elders.
Looking at King Cheng, Zhang Zhao suddenly thought of Ji Fa and Ji Dan. Those two brothers, one entrusted the world to him, and the other entrusted King Cheng to him. Now they are both gone, and only he remains.
"Your Majesty," Zhang Zhao's voice was very soft, like a candle flickering in the wind, "I miss my son."
King Cheng's tears finally fell, one drop at a time, onto the back of Zhang Zhao's hand.
He choked up and couldn't speak, like the child who once lay on Ji Dan's back, like the bewildered boy who once stood before the throne.
He was already the emperor of the world, but at this moment, he was just a child afraid of being abandoned.
He threw himself into Zhang Zhao's arms and hugged him tightly, just like he used to hug his father when he was a child.
He hadn't hugged someone like this in a long time—he dared not, and could not.
He is the emperor, and the emperor's tears cannot be seen by others, nor can the emperor's weakness be known to others.
But at this moment, he no longer wanted to be the emperor; he just wanted to be a child, a child who could cry, be afraid, and be held in someone's arms.
"The Grand Tutor will be alright."
Zhang Zhao patted his back gently without saying a word.
Outside the window, the autumn wind was bleak.
The locust tree leaves in the yard were scattered all over the ground, and the bare branches stretched towards the sky, like an old man in thin clothes shivering in the cold wind.
That locust tree was planted when he first moved into this house, and it's been decades now.
On the day Zhang Zhao returned to Liang, it snowed heavily in Haojing.
King Cheng stood on the city wall, watching the armored soldiers escort the oxcart slowly away.
The snow was heavy, and the oxcart quickly became a blurry black dot, until finally even that dot disappeared from sight.
All that remained between heaven and earth was a vast expanse of white snow and that deep tire track.
He suddenly remembered what his uncle had said before his death: "Bury me in Chengzhou. In life, I cannot be separated from the king. In death, I will not be far from him."
But now, Uncle Wang is gone, and Grand Tutor is gone too.
"Uncle Wang is gone, and Duke Zhao is gone too." He looked at the swirling snow and suddenly burst into tears, weeping like a child. "From now on, when I encounter difficulties, who will I turn to for help?"
No one answered him.
Only snow kept falling.
On the oxcart, Zhang Zhao leaned against the side of the cart with his eyes closed.
Snowflakes drifted in through the gaps in the carriage curtain, landing on his shoulders and his white hair.
He wondered what the first thing he should do after returning to Liang would be. Should he hug Chengsi, or shake Sihao's hand? He didn't know. He only knew that he had longed for those hands for twenty-one years, dreamed of that face for twenty-one years, and longed for that home for twenty-one years.
The oxcart creaked and groaned as it moved forward.
In the south lies the Kingdom of Liang, and in the south resides the person he has waited for over twenty years. By the time he returns to the Kingdom of Liang, the snow will soon have stopped.