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卷八十七 揚雄傳 上

Volume 87a: Yang Xiong 1

Chapter 98 of 漢書 ✓ Translated
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Chapter 98
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1
Book 87a—the fifty-seventh memoir, first part: Yang Xiong.
2
Yang Xiong, courtesy name Ziyun, was a native of Chengdu in the Shu commandery. His line descended from Bo Qiao of the Zhou royal house; a younger branch first held its fief at Yang in Jin and took that place name as their surname—Bo Qiao's exact relation within the Zhou kin is no longer known. Their fief lay between the Yellow and Fen rivers; as the Zhou waned the clan was ennobled as marquises of Yang. Then came the struggle of the six ministerial houses of Jin: Han, Wei, and Zhao rose to power while the houses of Fan, Zhonghang, and Zhi were destroyed. Under that pressure the marquis of Yang fled to the Wu mountains of Chu and settled there. When Chu and Han contended for the empire, the Yangs moved up the Yangzi and settled in the Ba river country. Yang Ji rose to be grand administrator of Lujiang. During Yuanding they fled a blood feud, moved again upriver, and settled south of Mount Min at Pi—one homestead, one plot of land—where for generations they lived by farming and silk. From Ji to Xiong each generation had only a single male heir, so in Shu there were no other branches of the Yang clan.
3
From boyhood he loved books but scorned pedantic glossing: he mastered glosses only far enough to grasp the sense, then read widely in every field. He was easygoing and unbuttoned, hampered by a stammer so that he spoke little, but his mind ran deep; he lived quietly, cared little for appetite or display, neither scrambled after rank nor brooded on poverty, and would not polish a reputation among his contemporaries. His whole estate was worth less than ten pounds of gold, and he often lacked even a peck of grain in the jar—yet he remained unruffled. He set his own standard: nothing pleased him but the writings of sages; and what ran against his conscience he would not do even for wealth and rank. All the while he loved belles lettres and fu poetry.
4
Earlier, Shu had produced Sima Xiangru, whose fu were magnificent yet refined; Xiong admired him and took his style as the model for his own verse. He also marveled that Qu Yuan's gifts outshone even Xiangru's, yet the court would not tolerate him—so he wrote Encountering Sorrow and drowned himself in the river. Xiong mourned that work and wept whenever he read it. He held that when the times favor a gentleman he may act on a grand scale, and when they do not he may coil like a dragon—success or obscurity is Heaven's decree, and no man need destroy himself for it. So he composed a piece that took phrases from Encountering Sorrow and turned their sense, intending to cast it into the river from Mount Min as an offering to Qu Yuan; he titled it Contrary Lisao. He also wrote a companion piece expanding on Lisao, called Broadening Sao. Another suite, from "Bitter Remembrance" through "Embracing the Sands," he entitled Sorrow in Captivity. Sorrow in Captivity and Broadening Sao are too long to quote here; only Contrary Lisao is given in full. It begins:
5
The house of Zhou stretches in long descent: some say our forebear stood at Fen's shore; the spirit-line began with Bo Qiao and flowed on to the marquises of Yang. I summon the high renown of Zhou and Chu, I have left the emperor's tide behind; borne on the streams I offer this lament for Qu Yuan, the exile of the Xiang.
6
Heaven's course does not run true— why must unstained purity be tangled in turmoil? Muddy troubles rise in reeking swirls, and murk in motley clouds hides the light.
7
Ε
In the tenth age of Han, under Yangshuo's star, in the month the Zhou calendar fixed— I take Heaven's bright standard as my rule, I pace the square truth of the soil below. I share that noble blood, I ponder its splendid phrases; square and plumb hang at my belt, I walk the comet's path as laced-up shoes. From the ancient wardrobe I take those gorgeous gowns— why such display of weave when the weave of the heart is wanting? They barter Ju and Wa beauties for trinkets, they peddle the nine Yi for a meal.
8
The phoenix wheels above the sacred isle— could a barnyard goose outfly that wing? The thoroughbred strains on crooked lanes; mules and donkeys hobble abreast. Zizhi grows dense; apes peer from dens and dare not drop; the king believed the sweet talk of pepper and orchid— should I not have seen it sooner?
9
Lotus coat and crimson skirt— fierce perfume none will smell; better fold them in the inner room alone. In the inner chambers each vies in slender grace; knowing how the many grudge beauty— why must I arch these moth eyebrows still higher?
10
The holy dragon lurks in the pool, waiting for lucky clouds before it climbs; without spring wind to lift him, who can tell where the dragon lies? I mourn my many perfumes, I lift bright calamus and orchid; yet summer's killing frost strikes— the tender bloom is blasted and its honor lost.
11
South of the Yangzi and Xiang I ride the flood; clouds race under the blue vault; I speed the river's swells to seek judgment from Shun the double-pupiled. I pour out my troubled heart, yet fear Shun will not heed me; I ride the pale waves of the river god— would he single me out for trust?
12
西
Fine elixir and autumn chrysanthemum were meant to lengthen your years; You stood by the Miluo and leapt to your death— the sun was already sinking toward the western hill. You slipped the reins at the eastern tree and let the team bolt; the phoenix car rises and none can follow— not wind-god nor cloud-driver alone.
13
I bundle river iris and sweet rush and cast them into the Xiang pool; I tie pepper and cassia and sink them in the great streams to steep their virtue. You squandered grain to move the gods, you pried with reed stalks for omens; you spurned the spirit's warning— and threw your life into the shallows!
14
Once you had climbed to Fu Yue in dream— why not trust the sign and press on? I fear the cuckoo's cry is near— every fragrant plant will wither before you wake!
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First you cast off the river goddess, then you pined for the girl on the jade tower; you took the osprey as matchmaker— yet never won a single union through a hundred griefs! I ride the rainbow's curve and gaze toward winding Kunlun; I scan the world's four quarters— need I seek that goddess on the high hill?
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With no phoenix car veiled in mist— shall I harness eight dragons in serried line? You wept by the river's edge— what use then were the Nine Shao and the Nine Songs? For the wise man in his fortune— the times and Heaven's decree hold all; Though I sigh till my throat aches— I fear the king will never mend his ways. When Confucius left Lu he lingered and wandered the circuit of states, yet at last he came home to his city— he did not need the Xiang's depths and boiling rapids! Share the fisherman's coarse fare, then bathe and beat the dust from your coat; leave what the hermits prized— take up the path Peng and Xian bequeathed!
17
Under Emperor Cheng a visitor praised Xiong's prose as rivaling Sima Xiangru's. The emperor was preparing suburban sacrifices at the Grand Altar of Sweet Springs and at the earth shrine of Fenyin to win a successor, and summoned Xiong as expectant scholar in the Chenming hall. In the first month he accompanied the court to Sweet Springs and afterward presented his Sweet Springs Rhapsody as veiled criticism. The text reads:
18
使輿
In the tenth reign of Han the emperor will sacrifice to High Heaven, establish the Grand Altar, draw down divine favor, proclaim a glorious title, align his merit with the Three Sovereigns and the Five Thearchs, pity the heir and shower blessing, and extend the founding enterprise. Then he charges his ministers, picks a lucky day and a propitious hour, and the host moves like stars across the sky. He calls the Dipper and the northern yin, sets the Curved Array to guard the line, rings the camp with the geomancer's chart, and drives off demons with blows. Eight gods race ahead while outriders clear the road; harnesses clang in war array; Chiyou's train gird on long swords and jade halberds, plumes streaming as they march with swagger. They crowd in dense confusion, tangled like twisted rope; banners of cloud rear and wheel as the host sweeps the field. They stand paired in rows like layered scales; staggered like fish and birds in flight. Flame and lightning merge; mist rolls and closes; then light scatters into jeweled patterns.
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輿
The chariot mounts the phoenix canopy veined with magic fungus; four azure dragons pull six pale horses; gemmed reins trail, colored pennons stream in the wind. Shadows close, then light bursts forth; the car springs through azure heaven past the drifting sun— how the great banners dip and stream! Shooting stars flash like lightning; riders dip the jade-green awning and phoenix standards. Ten thousand riders mass at the central camp; jade-decked chariots stand in squares a thousand strong. The rumble spreads vast and broken; the train outraces thunder and leaves the gale astern. They climb the long slope's rugged crest; they ford the winding shallows' limpid flow. They mount the sky ladder toward the celestial gate; they race through the gate of heaven and enter the dizzying height.
20
{}
Before they reached Sweet Springs they saw the tower that threads the sky stretch endlessly on. Below spreads shadow and biting cold; above, great billows tangle and cross. Peak thrusts on peak straight toward heaven; its height defeats every measure. The plain rolls wide and far; new-planted thickets line the forest's edge. Torreya and fragrant herbs crowd thick; lush growth runs on without a bound. They pile hills in towering stairs; they carve gorges steep as cliffs into valleys. Detached palaces flash light to each other; Stone Pass and Seal Peak run on in endless line.
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西 宿
Then the great hall shifts like clouds and surging waves, a sight to marvel at; they tilt their heads until their eyes dim in the gloom. They steady their gaze on the endless reach; east and west run on without limit; they turn and wander; the spirit floats lost and dazed. They lean from the carved rail and wheel about; suddenly the narrow pass leaves no margin. Jade trees stand green and fresh; horses of jade and rhinoceros shine in ranks. Bronze giants shoulder the bells, scaled like dragons on a cliff; torches blaze; they ride rolling fire; they match the Hanging Garden of the celestial court; they image the awesome god Grand Unity. The great tower shoots upward alone; it brushes the pole star; constellations deck its crest; sun and moon cross its beams; thunder rolls in its recesses; lightning darts along its parapets. Ghosts and goblins cannot find their way back; halfway up the long climb they tumble headlong. They cross the bridge of light and span the flying arch; they drift like midges skimming heaven.
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西 西 殿
Comet left, Dark North right; sacred towers before, the answering gate behind; They veil the western sea and the land of shades; sweet springs bubble up and turn to rivers. Dragons coil along the eastern cliff; the white tiger stands sentry at Kunlun. They watch the winding current from the terrace of light; broad pennons gather in the western court. The forward hall rises sheer; He-family jade chimes tinkle; flying rafters spring from floating posts; unseen spirits steady the leaning pile; the gate opens on immensity like the Purple Palace in the sky. Beams interlace in endless weave; carved brackets knit and cling. They ride the cloud pavilion up and down; misty curtains fold into shape. They trail shimmering red silk; they raise long coils of green mist. They pass halls like tilted jade towers; it feels like climbing high to gaze afar, solemn as standing on a precipice.
23
調 彿
The whirlwind rises with a shock; it strips cassia and pepper, bends the supple willows. Perfume floods the high vault; it strikes the lattice and climbs toward the rafters. Incense seeps to the deepest root; the rumble rolls past the bells; jade doors swing wide and golden knockers lift; orchid fragrance floods the endless hall. Vast winds sweep and swirl; little by little all grows dim and sinks into depth. Clear and turbid, high and low notes answer one another like masters tuning a flawless lute. The ancient master-builders lay down their tools; the surveyor drops his cord and square. Even immortal companions seemed phantoms; the whole sight floated like a dream.
24
耀 西
Things shifted and the senses reeled; the emperor sat withdrawn in jade-decked halls, purifying mind and soul, gathering spirit in meditation, to move Heaven and earth and draw down the favor of the Three Powers. He gathered men worthy to stand beside Gao and Yi, the best of their generation, mindful of old kindness and eastern expeditions, and together they entered the Yang Spirit shrine. They spread rushes for a seat and broke jade sprigs for incense; they drew pure mist and drank immortal dew; they entered the sacred park and the hall of praise to the earth. Long streamers of light rose; jeweled canopies spread wide; from on high they gazed toward Sanwei; chariots massed in the eastern hollow then charged with loosened reins; they circled the sacred pool and scanned the nine regions, then swept back toward the sky. Wind steadied the wheels; phoenix attendants flocked; they crossed the weak stream and trod the winding crest of Buzhou; they imagined the Queen Mother of the West offering the cup of long life— while jade girls and river goddesses were waved away. The jade maid might not flash her bright eyes; the river goddess might not raise her painted brows. He embraces the adamantine core of the Way; he makes the spirits his companions and support.
25
西耀
Then came the solemn winter sacrifice to the royal ancestor. The offering flame rises to High Heaven; Grand Unity is summoned to approach. He lifts the great jaw-shaped shield and raises the sacred banners. Piled fuel sends flame toward the sky; light shoots east to the sea, west to the deserts, north to the shadowed pole, south to the vermilion cliffs. The dark sacrificial ladle gleams; black millet wine pours clear; fragrance spreads rich and full. Fire moves the yellow dragon; prodigies blaze; Wu Xian calls at Heaven's gate; the court of heaven opens and the gods descend. Shadowy ministers throng down to the pure altar; lucky grain heaps like a hill.
26
When the rite was finished they wheeled for home, crossed the triple ridges, and rested at Tangli. The celestial gate swings open; the rim of earth unfolds; the eight wastes are in harmony; all kingdoms join the song. On Changping the war drums thunder like heaven's voice; clouds lift, rain sweeps down in torrents— O virtue to shine through endless ages!
27
耀
Envoi: The round altar towers, lost in the sky; slopes rise and fall, then level on the plain. Tier on tier the palaces climb; peaks and crags link on; gorges open without end. Heaven's binding thread runs faint and high; the holy emperor, grave and still, truly answers its charge. Come, spirits, accept the sacrifice— here the gods dwell; the Dipper turns; the bright spirits tarry. Glory blazes; blessing piles high; sons and grandsons without end.
28
Sweet Springs was first a Qin summer palace; already lavish, Emperor Wu added the Access to Heaven, Height of Light, and Wind-Meeting towers. Nearby stood Hongya, Panhuang, and the rest; farther off Stone Pass, Seal Peak, and other lodges— marvels of touring architecture, yet meant to recall King Xuan's scrutiny, Pan Geng's migration, Xia's humble halls, and the three grades of unadorned rafters of Tang and Yu. The complex was old, not Cheng's creation— ill-timed to attack, impossible to ignore— so Xiong praised it as rival to the celestial Purple Palace, hinting it was beyond mortal craft, almost demonic in scale. Lady Zhao then held the emperor's favor; each visit to Sweet Springs she rode in the regulated escort among the leopard-tail guard. So Xiong lavished words on chariots and outriders— not to glorify the sacrifice but with another purpose. The lines about sending away the jade maid and Fu fey were a subtle warning to keep the ritual chaste. When he submitted the piece the emperor was struck with wonder.
29
西
In the third month came the earth sacrifice; the emperor led the court across the Yellow River to Fenyin. Afterward they toured Mount Jie, Anyi, Dragon Gate, the salt ponds, and the western peak, scanning the eight directions and pondering the vanished manners of Yao and Shun. Xiong judged it better to mend policy at home than to sigh at the riverbank; he presented the Hedong Rhapsody as remonstrance. The text reads:
30
輿 耀 輿 {}
In late spring they bury the earth offering at Fenyin's eastern suburb, heaping praise and praying blessing from the powers— O splendor beyond telling! He ordered the ministers, set court dress in order, mounted the sacred car— phoenix team, six horses swifter than sunbeams, banners like meteors, bow like the star Wolf. Black plumes of the high standard rose; the left great streamer flew; cloud-pointed pennons streamed. Lightning for a whip, thunder for outriders, the great bell sounding, five banners aloft. Xihe guides the day; the groom holds the reins; winds lash; spirits seem to race alongside. Thousands of chariots thunder, myriads of riders rear; clamor fills heaven and earth. Hills tremble and ridges leap; the Wei and Jing rivers boil. The Qin deity cowers; wandering souls bear ill luck away. The river god quakes; he treads glory and tramples decay. So they come to the dark shrine, grave and still, bowed in reverence.
31
輿 西 西
The powers have inclined; the five agents align; dark essence of heaven and earth will bless the heir. The sacred car moves at a walk, wandering at leisure, to view Mount Jie. They mourn Lord Wen's wanderings, praise Yu at Dragon Gate, drown old flood sorrow in dredged channels, spread the nine rivers toward the eastern sea. They mount the Outlook of Ages and let the mind roam. They savor the ancient wind; they joy in the soil Shun once tilled. They look up to lofty Yao-Tang; they ponder the great calm of Zhou. The flood swirls; they cannot tear away; the gaze drifts to Haixia and Pengcheng. They scorn the cruel crags of southern Nest; they prefer the gentle plain of Bin and Qi. On an azure dragon car they cross the river; they ascend the towering western peak. Clouds mass to welcome them; soft rain falls; mist gathers thick; vapor rolls immense. They command wind and rain in the four quarters; they stand sole between heaven and earth, boundless, unmatched.
32
使
Turn homeward through the moment— within the vast Han realm, what achievement can rival this? They fix the true hexagrams of Qian and Kun; all dragons shall be gathered under them. Gou Mang flanks the left; Ru Shou the right; Xuan Ming and Zhu Rong draw the traces. They bid the gods open the way; they wake the Six Classics to loose their song. O that radiant peace— beyond the stately murmur of the Clear Temple hymn; They overtake the Five Thearchs' distant tracks; they follow the Three Sovereigns' lofty prints. The chariot has left the level court— who says the way is too long to ride?
33
宿西穿
In the twelfth month the emperor held the great feather hunt; Xiong went along. Under the ancient sage-kings parks served only the suburban sacrifices, guests, and kitchens— they never seized the people's best farmland. Then women had extra cloth and men extra grain; the realm prospered— dew fell, springs flowed, phoenix and dragon, qilin and sacred birds appeared. When Yu put Yi in charge of the wilds, harmony reigned and vegetation flourished. Tang of Shang loved hunting and still the realm wanted for nothing. King Wen's park measured a hundred li; the people still thought it small. King Xuan of Qi's forty-li park the people thought too large. The difference is enriching the people or robbing them. Emperor Wu stretched Shanglin from the southern lodges to the northern hills, dug Kunming to mirror the Dian pool, and raised Jianzhang and the tiered terraces to mimic the fairy isles in the sea. Excursions grew wasteful, wonder and splendor pushed to the extreme. Some outer parkland was cut back for the people, yet the hunt itself—chariots, horses, gear—still swaggered in luxury, far from the restrained three-sided chase of the sages. Lest posterity revive old excesses without the lesson of moderation, he framed the School Hunt Rhapsody as criticism. It begins:
34
使
Some exalt Shennong and the like— are they the final model for emperors? Critics divide; each time suits its own measure— need all ages share one yardstick? How then could Mount Tai's seventy-two forms of Feng have been one single pattern? Founders who establish a dynasty do not cling to one mold; who across the ages can fix their blame or praise? He sings: "Splendid the sacred ruler in his dark hall; rich as the soil, noble as the sky." Qi's Duke Huan could scarcely steady the axle; Chu's King Zhuang not worth a seat as outrider. He crosses the Three Kings' peril passes and lifts a new beginning on high; He ranges the Five Thearchs' empty vastness, passes the Three Sovereigns' lofty gates; He makes the Way his teacher and benevolence and right his companions.
35
輿 西 殿 竿
In deep winter, when life hides within and dies without, the emperor will hunt the sacred park, open the north, and complete the cycle ruled by Zhuanxu and the dark god. He charges the park warden, extends the line east to Kun's border, races west to heaven's gate. Supplies heap up, soldiers flank the road; brush is cleared from Qian and Wei to Haojing; the work swallows sun and moon till sky and earth blur. On triple tiger paths they set marshals; a hundred-li cord rings the inner gate. South to the sea, west to the twilight abyss, boundless water checked by mountains. The encirclement joins; the line is first drawn south of White Poplar, east of Kunming Pool. Champions like Ben and Yu, shields and plumes, Mo Ye swords—myriads; others spread heaven-wide nets and comet banners. Rainbow rings and cloud ropes bind at Kunlun; the line glitters like stars, rolls like surf, thick before and behind. Comet for picket, moon for sentinel; Mars rules fate; the sky bow shoots; glittering files choke every track. Swift cars and light troops, silken nets, thunder up slopes; the farthest scouts mass on the plateau; Cavalry hive, tasks divide, wheels hum without cease under the greenwood.
36
輿 西
Then the emperor, yang force leaving the dark hall, strikes the great bell, raises nine banners, six white tigers pull the sacred car, Chiyou at the hub, Meng Tian as forerunner. A sky-scraping flag rises; star pennons trail; thunder cracks; lightning lashes like whips. The host masses, pours, spreads wide— the eight marchmounts seem to swing their gates; Wind god and rain master hurry; squadrons spread like dragon scales. They sway and stride into the western park, brushing the sacred gleam; They sight Pingle, cut through bamboo, crush orchid plots, pound thoroughwort lanes. Flames leap; grooms stream pennons; a thousand four-horse teams charge, ten thousand horsemen wheel. Tiger squadrons weave; thunder rolls; hooves hammer; the world trembles. The tide of riders thins and spreads to the horizon.
37
西
Bold men, fired in heart, ride every quarter, each passion loosed. They haul blue boar, trample rhino, fell the river elk. They strike great game, seize shadowy prey, vault hollows and rolling banks. They swarm the passes; valleys howl with wind, woods choke with dust. Border guards trample pines, seize wild pear in passing; They tear through thickets, crush birds on the wing; They tread serpent heads, belt great snakes; They leash red leopard, drag elephant and rhino; They vault steep pits, ford the Tang pools. Hosts mass like clouds; Taihua serves as banner, Bear-Ear as pendant. Forest and hill fall away until the hunt seems lost beyond heaven, roaming the boundless world.
38
羿 退
Then the sky clears and noon sun softens. Peng Meng arrays the targets, Yi's line bends the bow; the royal car glows; the moon-charioteer checks rein until they reach Shanglan. The cordon slides, companies wade deep; curved ranks lock, each file in place. The wall of hunters wheels; lightning strikes— bird and beast are sealed; armies reel as the plain is swept clean. Light cars leap, armored riders charge; They tread the flying leopard, net the roaring beast; They pursue the prize, erupt from one flank; Hooves answer thunder; blows chase the glint. Hill and plain are emptied; buck and doe are bagged; laughter rolls through the hollow. The army halts, stunned in the defile— only watching bound game, horned beasts goring, bears and tigers leaping; brutes lock horns; men stare witless, throats against the axle. Shafts strike home; advance and retreat trample the slain; the slain pile ridge on ridge.
39
西 耀 使黿
When the kill flags, they gather at the Quiet-dark hall above the jeweled pool. Streams from Qi and Liang feed it; east the view ends, west has no bank— pearls gleam on its banks. Jade glints green in the depths; divers and dim shapes move— forms past counting. Peacock and simurgh, kingfisher in splendor; ospreys and geese call; flocks clamor within the reed beds. Wildfowl beat wings up and down; the noise is thunder. Tattooed swimmers seize dragons in icy deeps, rake caves for horned serpents, tread otters, grapple turtles and crocodiles. They dive caverns, surface at Cangwu, ride leviathans of the deep. They drift Pengli, gaze toward Shun's land, tally night-shining pearls, split moon-pearls, summon river goddesses, feast the drowned poets' shades.
40
耀
Then great ru in court dress, revising Tang models and the Odes, bow in ritual before him. Radiance streams like gods; humane fame reaches the Di; martial awe shakes the south. So Xiongnu lords bring tribute, raise hands, and call themselves vassals. They enter the hunt's mouth in front, with Mount Lu massed behind. Ministers and philosophers cry: "Such virtue surpasses Yao, Shun, and Zhou at its height!" "Who since the ancient Feng on Tai and Shan on Liang could rival this?"
41
使 鹿
The emperor still refused self-praise: he would trace the Three Lights above, tap sweet springs below, open the dragon's den, seek phoenix nest and qilin park— reject vain parks like Yunmeng, prefer the Spirit Terrace, spare detached palaces, leave timber plain, bind the people to plow and weave, and keep households in moral order; fear the poor miss the surplus— open the imperial preserve, empty granaries for them, fence a park of virtue, widen mercy, hunt only where ritual allows, scan ministers' want or plenty; turn hares free, furl nets, share deer and brushwood with the people— that is how to reach true perfection. Then virtue runs deep and wide, the age's pattern grows rich— outdoing the Three Augusts and Five Thearchs in care for the people! So the grave ministers fix ruler and subject, honor the sages' task, and set no store by park splendor or hunting show— the car turns home from Epang to Weiyang.
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