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第十三 五行一 貌不恭 淫雨 服妖 雞禍 青眚 屋自壞 訛言 旱 謠 狼食人

Volume 103: Five Elements Part One

Chapter 114 of 後漢書 · Book of Later Han
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Chapter 114
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1
Treatise Thirteen: The Five Elements, Part One.
2
Undignified bearing; unseasonable downpours; dress as ill omen; calamities involving fowl; greenish spectral blights; dwellings that fall without human cause; lying rumors; drought; rhymed portents; wolves that prey on men.
3
·
The classic exposition in the Treatise on the Five Elements, with the omens read from it and the events that answered them, was already set down at length in the Book of Han's treatise on the subject. Ying Shao, who had governed Taishan, the palace attendant Dong Ba, and Qiao Zhou, a regular attendant-in-ordinary of the scattered cavalry, each compiled records of portents and disasters from the opening of the Jianwu reign onward. Here those materials are brought together and discussed in one place, extending the earlier treatise.
4
宿
The Treatise on the Five Elements declares: "When the ruler hunts without pause, feasts without making the proper offerings, comes and goes without measure, robs the people of their seasons for tillage, and harbors secret treachery, the virtue associated with wood fails—wood no longer 'bends and straightens' as it ought." That is to say, the nature of wood is corrupted and disaster follows. It continues: "When bearing is irreverent, that is termed a failure of awe-inspiring demeanor. The blame falls on frenzy; the chastisement is unrelenting rain; the worst outcome is thoroughgoing evil. In such times appear freaks of dress, omens involving turtles, calamities among fowl, ailments that afflict the lower body yet show on the upper, bluish-green spectral visitations and greenish good-luck prodigies—metal, in the cycle of qi, is said to harm wood." Commentary explains that when one phase of qi wounds another, that interaction is called li—injurious encroachment.
5
In Jianwu's first year the Red Eyebrows, under Fan Chong and Feng An, enthroned the boy Liu Penzi as emperor. They treated him as a puppet, letting him have his way in trifles while never truly minding what he did. At the New Year banquet they had barely sat down when, before a cup was poured, the courtiers were on their feet again in such confusion that no one could restore order. At that time Grand Minister of Agriculture Yang Yin, grasping his sword in anger, said: "Even children's play is not like this!" The regime soon fell apart, and Fan Chong, Feng An, and their fellows were put to death. Yang Yin alone was ennobled as a marquis within the passes and died in bed of old age.
6
使
After Guangwu's death Prince Jing of Shanyang showed so little sorrow at the bier that he was suspected at once; he then sent a secret letter to the Prince of Donghai, goading him into revolt. Emperor Ming hushed the affair out of respect for his mother the dowager, for Jing was his full brother. Later, when Jing was transferred to the kingdom of Guangling, he was caught plotting rebellion a second time and took his own life.
7
Under Emperor Zhang, Dou Xian—the empress's brother—terrified the whole court because his sister held the emperor's complete favor. He bullied the senior Princess of Qinshui into surrendering her estate; once she yielded out of fear, he treated her with open contempt. When the emperor later rode over those same fields and learned the truth, he confronted Dou Xian, who brazenly claimed he had only borrowed the land. For the empress's sake the emperor limited himself to a stern reprimand and brought no charges. After Zhangdi's death the Dou empress dowager ruled as regent while Dou Xian monopolized confidential business; anyone who stood up to him tended to disappear, until at last the whole Dou clan was wiped out.
8
Under Emperor Huan, Liang Ji dominated the government; his brothers were swaggering magnates who raced their chariots past all decency and would thunder through their own gates at a gallop. People took to calling their racing "the Liangs' headlong ride to clan extinction"—and in the end the prophecy was fulfilled to the letter.
9
Four separate years of Emperor He's Yongyuan era—10, 13, 14, and 15—brought such relentless rain that the harvests rotted in the fields.
10
In the first and fourth years of Emperor An's reign, autumn storms ruined crops across ten provinces.
11
The first year of Yongning saw thirty-three commanderies and kingdoms deluged until the grain failed.
12
Jianguang's first year brought the same affliction to the capital and twenty-nine other jurisdictions. The Qiang revolt still raged, and the people—stuck in endless garrison duty—had no respite from misery.
13
Yanguang's first year added twenty-seven more regions where the rains spoiled the harvest.
14
The following year five commanderies suffered week after week of rain and lost their crops.
15
In the fourth year of Yongjian under Emperor Shun, the capital inspectorate and the Jing, Yu, Yan, and Ji macro-regions were drowned by unseasonable rains.
16
Two years later Ji Province alone was battered by the same scourge.
17
In the second summer of Emperor Huan's Yanxi era the skies opened for fifty-odd days of steady downpour. Liang Ji was then dictator at court: he schemed against Lady Deng's mother Xuan, whom the emperor cherished, and he murdered the advisor Bing Zun without trial. The emperor meant to destroy Liang Ji yet dreaded the general's entrenched might; he feared a violent refusal that would cost officials and commoners their lives, so he took Shan Chao and other trusted eunuchs into his confidence and worked out a plan in secret. In the eighth month of that same year Liang Ji was convicted and the entire faction extirpated.
18
The sixth year of Zhongping brought eighty-some days of unbroken summer rain. Emperor Ling had just died; his bier still stood in the palace when He Jin the general-in-chief and Yuan Shao, an assistant commandant of the army, conspired to slaughter the eunuchs and strip them of office. Once Emperor Ling had been interred at Wenling, Zhang Rang and his fellow eunuchs cut down He Jin; Luoyang erupted in street fighting and thousands died.
19
Dozens of Gengshi-era generals marched through Luoyang wearing turbans over women's embroidered gowns, their hair dressed in elaborate coils. Thoughtful observers took this perversion of dress for a personal ill omen and fled to the frontier for safety. This was reckoned a "clothing prodigy" in the sense of the omen texts. Gengshi soon fell to the Red Eyebrows and lost his life.
20
During Emperor Huan's Yuanjia years the women of Luoyang took up "grieving" brows, tear-stained cosmetics, side-swept chignons styled like a tumble from a horse, a mincing walk that snapped at the waist, and smiles that bared teeth as if in pain. The "sorrowful" brow was plucked thin and drawn in nervous curves. The "weeping" face was rouged only under the eyes, as though fresh from tears. The "fallen-from-a-horse" coiffure swept all the hair to one side. The "broken waist" walk kept the feet from falling straight under the torso—an exaggerated sway. The "rotting-tooth" smile looked like a wince of dental pain—mirth without merriment. The fashion started in General Liang Ji's mansion, swept the capital overnight, and was copied through the heartland. This was reckoned a near cousin to the omen of freakish dress. For two generations the Liangs had held the supreme command, intermarried with the imperial clan, thrown their weight about, and brought the dynasty to the brink. Heaven seemed to warn: "Troops are coming to drag families away—women will weep and cringe, guards will wrench their backs and snap their spines, their hair will hang askew, and any laughter they manage will be hollow." In the second Yanxi year the entire Liang clan was extirpated.
21
After Liang Ji's fall, during the Yanxi years, Luoyang took to turbans cut short across the crown with long flaps at the ears—the upper line abrupt, the lower line drawn out. Shan Chao, Zuo Guan, Xu Huang, Ju Yuan, and Tang Heng—the eunuch quintet at the emperor's elbow—ran wild with corruption. A bitter proverb ran through the realm: "One general-in-chief falls—five spring up to replace him." Each household boasted multiple marquises, their sons planted in every province, their clients flocking like birds on the wing; the fashion—short above, long below—mirrored the omen once read from Liang Ji's excess. In the eighth year of that reign Emperor Huan seized on a solar eclipse as his cue, named the former minister Han Yin metropolitan commandant, and purged the eunuch faction step by step until Luoyang was clean again.
22
During Yanxi the respectable men of Luoyang went about in wooden clogs; brides began tying their hair with lacquered ribbons painted in five colors. Another sign in the category of freakish dress. In the ninth year the great proscription began; suspects were hustled into the eunuchs' North Prison. Panic spread—men no longer trusted providence, many bolted rather than face interrogation, whole clans were shackled, and wherever the dragnet reached, women young and old were marched off in cangues and leg-irons, the very picture the wooden clogs had foretold.
23
Under Emperor Ling, during Jianning, the capital's leading families kept their cosmetics in square reed boxes—and soon every petty clerk aped the style. Wits whispered that those reed cases were the very "appeal caskets" in which provinces filed criminal memorials; to prize them for rouge and powder meant the whole empire would soon stand convicted before the law. In the third year of Guanghe, on the guichou day, an edict of general amnesty lifted the faction ban—where the wording was unclear, doubtful cases were sent up for the court to decide by analogy. Every county with a "faction" list forwarded its dossiers to the commandant of justice, and the accused were filed away—names and all—in those square reed boxes.
24
Emperor Ling doted on frontier dress, frontier tents, folding chairs, cross-legged sitting, frontier dishes, barbarian lutes and pipes, and barbarian dance—and the great families of Luoyang rushed to outdo one another. Another omen-class freak of dress. Then Dong Zhuo flooded the capital with steppe troops, choked the avenues, looted the inner palaces, and broke open imperial tombs.
25
西 軿
In the Western Garden inside the palace Emperor Ling hitched four white donkeys, seized the reins himself, and raced in circles for sport. High ministers and imperial in-laws copied the fad until they used light wagons as outriders in their escorts, jostling one another on the road until a donkey cost as much as a horse. The Book of Changes says of the sage ruler that he "rides the six dragons to traverse Heaven." Nothing matches the dragon for motion above, nothing the horse for motion below. The Classic of Poetry praises the team: "Four tall stallions in full battle harness." Elsewhere it sings of "the gleaming sandalwood car and four powerful steeds." The donkey is a beast of burden for hill folk—how could Son of Heaven or a gentleman take it for a chariot team! A dull, plodding creature—yet the court now prizes it. Heaven's message read: "The realm will soon convulse; wise and foolish will trade places, and every man at the helm will be a donkey." Dong Zhuo then rode roughshod over the dynasty, drafting frontier peoples into the capital until foreign tribes overran the heartland.
26
便鸿 西 祿
During Xiping the inner palace staged mock investitures—dogs in official caps and ribboned seals—for amusement. One dog broke loose and dashed into the gate of the Minister of Education—every witness was struck with dread. Jing Fang's treatise warns: "When the ruler strays from the Way and ministers plot usurpation, Heaven sends the prodigy of a dog in an official's cap." Emperor Ling went on to shower favor on his minions' sons, the hangers-on at Yongle, the riffraff of the Hongdu Academy—men who pulled one another up until every minister and provincial governor seemed cut from the same cloth. He set up a market for ranks at the Western Lodge: five million cash bought a marquisate within the passes and the gold seal with purple ribbon; Anyone could walk to the palace gate, bid for a magistracy, and pay a sliding scale—fat fees for rich counties, lean ones for poor. The bold ones devoured like wolves; the timid ones scarcely looked human—they were dogs in caps, nothing more. The Minister of Education was once the chancellor—the officer who unified the administration of the realm. Heaven seemed to warn: "Too many chief ministers are the wrong men—drawing pay for empty seats, unable to stand firm, always trimming to the ruler's whim." The men in power were hounds in caps—which is why Heaven sent a dog through the minister's gate.
27
西
Emperor Ling often staged bawdy play in the Western Garden, dressing palace ladies as innkeepers while he himself put on the garb of a peddler. He would "arrive" at the mock inn; the women served wine and food, and all feasted together for sport. Another omen in the category of perverted dress. The empire then slid into chaos.
28
In the Jian'an years of Emperor Xian, men wore jackets that hung long on the torso but ended abruptly at the waist, while women favored long skirts paired with bodices cut scandalously short. Mo Si, an aide in Yi Province, read the new fashions as an ill omen: the masculine had lost its footing, the feminine its summit—the realm was not ready to rest. He was proved right when the emperor came back from exile and the world slid into chaos.
29
祿
On a bingwu day in the fourth month of Yongxing 2, a greenish glow appeared at night under the eunuch finance office; when clerks dug there they found a carved jade belt hook and a broken ring. The hook measured seven cun two fen; the ring's girth was five cun four fen; both pieces were richly engraved. Green jade prodigies belong to the wood-metal nexus—jade itself counts as a metal-like substance in the scheme. Seven cun two fen matches the "shang" tone in the pitch-pipe numerology. Five cun four fen answers to the "zhi" pipe. Because "shang" codes for ministers and "zhi" for public business, the omen pointed to high officials who shaped policy without gravity—disaster would follow. Liang Ji was then absolute master of the court; four years later his whole clan was extirpated.
30
In Yanxi 5 the main gate of the Imperial Academy fell in though no one had touched it. Xiang Kai argued that the academy had housed the ancient "doubtful" star; when its gate gave way of its own accord, it foretold the collapse of moral culture and the abandonment of education. The empire soon sank into anarchy.
31
On a renxu day in the tenth month of Yongkang 1, structures inside Luoyang's Pingcheng Gate in the Southern Palace fell without warning. Metal was encroaching on wood—the element of timber shook. In the twelfth month the emperor died—the euphemism "the palace carriage tarried."
32
In the third year, second month, the colonnade where ministers waited on the imperial progress collapsed—over thirty bays along the north-south range.
33
On a guihai day in the second month of Zhongping 1, the upper structures outside Luoyang's Guangyang Gate crumbled on their own.
34
使
In the third month of Chuping 2, under Emperor Xian, the buildings outside Chang'an's Xuanping Gate fell in though no storm had struck. In the summer of the third year Minister Wang Yun sent Lü Bu to cut down Dong Zhuo the grand preceptor and wipe out three generations of his kin.
35
The Treatise on the Five Elements warns that when rulers delight in war, despise the people, gild their ramparts, and raid the frontiers, the virtue of metal fails—it no longer "yields and changes" as it should. That is, the nature of metal is corrupted and calamity follows. It adds: "When counsel goes unheeded, that is termed a breakdown of good government. The fault is overreaching; the scourge is relentless drought; the bitter end is widespread grief. Such ages bring rhymed portents, plagues among armored insects, canine omens, ailments of speech, pallid spectral blights—and in the cycle of qi, wood is said to harm metal." Commentators following Liu Xin class the "shelled" pests with hairy vermin omens. Here yi means orderly rule.
36
In the eleventh month of Yongchu 1 wild rumors threw the people into panic; refugees streamed from the capital region, Bing, and Ji. Empress Dowager Deng was then regent in all but name. Women take compliance as their way; therefore the Rites have the command "when the husband dies, follow the son." To monopolize state business was neither "following" a man nor staying within a woman's sphere—it was usurpation.
37
A drought struck in the summer of Emperor Guangwu's fifth Jianwu year. Jing Fang lists omens of drought: "when virtue is spurned, Heaven stretches the land into waste; clouds gather but yield no rain, then flush an ominous red as yin forces encroach. Armies kept in the field too long "spread" exhaustion; the fields then refuse every shoot. When ruler and minister deceive each other, Heaven "blocks" the rain—the heavens burn red for months and hailstones cut down birds in flight. A ruler who chases women beyond measure commits usurpation against Heaven; the land then swelters for three cloudless months. Towering palaces offend the balance of yin and yang; drought kills every root, and fires follow. When petty officials overstep their rank, usurpation dries the wetlands and scorches what should be moist." Rebels still lived while imperial columns overstayed in the field—both sins on Jing Fang's list.
38
Drought gripped the summer of Zhanghe 2 under Emperor Zhang. Emperor Zhang had just died; the Dou brothers flaunted power for their sister the dowager, spending wildly beyond their station.
39
Luoyang baked under drought in the autumn of Yongyuan 6. A miscarriage of justice in Luoyang brought Emperor He in person to the city jail; he freed the innocent, jailed the magistrate, and laid the charge at his door. He had not yet reached the palace when a soaking rain began to fall.
40
The summer of Yongchu 6 brought drought under Emperor An. Drought returned the following summer.
41
Yuanchu's first summer was rainless. The next summer brought drought again. Four years later another parched summer arrived.
42
Emperor Shun's third Yongjian summer was a season of drought. Two years later drought struck again.
43
Yangjia 2 brought another rainless summer. Li Gu, answering the court's policy questions, blamed the skies on luxury and overreaching.
44
The child-emperor Chong's sole summer reign year opened with drought. When the boy emperor died, Li Gu the grand commandant begged Liang Ji to choose a mature, virtuous heir so the realm might rally and their own names live on. A child on the throne is a gamble—if he turns vicious, remorse will come too late. The dowager and Liang Ji preferred a malleable child so they could prolong their regency, and enthroned the eight-year-old Emperor Zhi. They spurned the counsel of virtue.
45
Emperor Huan's first Yuanjia summer was dry. Liang Ji dominated the court while his wife and sons piled up titles beyond all decency.
46
The sixth month of Yanxi 1 saw drought.
47
Emperor Ling's fifth Xiping summer brought drought. The following summer was dry as well.
48
Guanghe 5 opened with a drought summer. The next year the same scourge returned. Palace eunuchs were then playing tyrant, handing down fortune and ruin at whim.
49
Chang'an withered in the autumn of Xingping 1 under Emperor Xian. Li Jue and Guo Si then ran the capital as they pleased.
50
During the Gengshi interregnum a rhyme ran through Nanyang: "Whether the tune holds—ask the Red Eyebrows. Whether the prize is won—look to the north of the Yellow River." Gengshi held Chang'an while Liu Xiu, as grand marshal, was pacifying the north. Gengshi's ministers had all seized power beyond their right—hence these portentous rhymes. The Red Eyebrows soon killed Gengshi—the "lack of harmony" line had pointed straight at them. Liu Xiu rose to power from the Hebei plain.
51
In Jianwu 6 a Shu children's rhyme ran: "The yellow bull shows a white belly—the Han five-zhu coin will return." Gongsun Shu had declared himself emperor in Shu; gossips said Wang Mang's regime had been the "yellow" phase and Shu styled itself "white" as his successor; the five-zhu was Han coinage—plainly it would be restored. Gongsun Shu was destroyed.
52
Near Wang Mang's fall Tianshui children sang: "Out through Wu Gate, eyes on the Ti hills. There walks a cripple who swears he will climb to Heaven; If Heaven were truly within reach, what people would be left on earth!" Wei Xiao had launched his rebellion from Tianshui, then dreamed of the throne—and fell; he had been lame from youth, matching the rhyme's cripple. "Wu Gate" was a gate in the Ji capital's wall. "Ti herd" denoted a mountain.
53
Late in Emperor Shun's reign Luoyang children chanted: "Straight as a bowstring—you end dead in the ditch. Crooked as a fishhook—you win a marquisate instead." Emperor Shun died; Emperor Zhi reigned briefly; Liang Ji the general-in-chief forced a distant child onto the throne, claimed the credit, and bent every edict to private gain. Li Gu urged enthroning the Prince of Qinghe—a clever, cultivated kinsman; the elder line would satisfy the realm, a worthy choice would steady the state. Liang Ji overruled him, secured the dowager's edict, cashiered Li Gu, and brought in the Marquis of Liwu—the future Emperor Huan. Li Gu died the same day in a dungeon, his body flung in the street, while Hu Guang, Zhao Jie, and Yuan Tang—the ministers who bent to Liang Ji—each walked away with a new noble title.
54
西
Early in Emperor Huan's reign a rhyme swept the empire: "Green wheat, blasted barley—who gathers the harvest? Wives and mothers-in-law. Where are the men? Off west fighting the Hu; clerks must buy horses, masters fit the carts—let me hum a marching tune for you all." In the Yuanjia years the Liangzhou Qiang revolted as one, poured into Ba and Han, pillaged the capital region, and spread ruin through Bing and Ji. Imperial armies marched and lost again and again; conscripts multiplied while grain rotted in the fields—only women were left to scythe what they could. The line about clerks, horses, and masters' carts meant crushing levies on every salaried official. "Let me hum for you" meant the people dared not speak aloud and muttered their grievances in their throats.
55
使 使祿
Another Luoyang rhyme in Emperor Huan's early years ran: "Crows on the city wall, tails all frayed—fathers turned clerks, sons turned convicts. One conscript dies—a hundred carriages roll. Carriages in long lines—winding their way to Hejian. The Hejian belle counts her coins—rooms built of copper cash, halls sheeted in gold. On the stone mortar, pestles thump—only yellow millet left to grind. A line from the rhyme: "There's a petition drum under the rafters—I reach for the mallet, but the chancellor and his men fly into a rage." The commentary takes every image in that song as a verdict on rapacious rule. The rooftop crow hoarding scraps alone foretells a Son of Heaven who squeezes the realm for revenue and shares nothing downward. Fathers pressed into the army clerks' corps and sons dragooned as convict troops point to frontier revolts that devour one generation after another. One expeditionary column perishes; the court answers by flinging a hundred more chariots into the same meat grinder. The long train rolling toward Hejian foretold the emperor's death and the hearse-road that would bring the boy Liu Hong from Hejian to the throne. The miserly belle piling coins into walls of copper and ceilings of gold stood for Lady Dong of Yongle, who hoarded specie to gild her palace halls once her son sat on the throne. The pestle on the mortar meant that even mountains of gold could not sate her—she still grudged every grain and made servants pound millet as if famine stalked the harem. The blocked drumbeat pictured honest men who wished to pound the grievance drum only to find the Yongle faction—having taught the emperor to vend offices—had bribed every gatekeeper; the very officials who should relay petitions silenced them instead.
56
Another capital rhyme at the start of Emperor Huan's reign ran: "You Ping vends the seals—and balance returns; he shows no favor to magnates or great houses." By late Yanxi Empress Deng had been forced to suicide; Honored Lady Dou replaced her. Her father Dou Wu, whose courtesy name was You Ping, became colonel of the city gates—the very "You Ping" of the rhyme. Under the regency Dou Wu served as general-in-chief beside Grand Tutor Chen Fan; together they handed offices only to worthy men, slamming the door on every great clan that had bought favor under the Liangs.
57
Late in Emperor Huan's reign Luoyang sang: "A hempfield of one qing with a well at its heart—ragged on every side, beyond all mending. Chew and chew—this year we scrape by; next year they'll beat the warning bells." The Classic of Changes counsels: "Uproot the reed and its runners together—then the campaign is lucky." Here the reed patch stands for the cluster of honest ministers. The well in the field is the standard of law still holding at the center. Eunuchs Guan Ba and Su Kang loathed every upright scholar-official; with Liu Ao, Xu Yong, Liu Fen, Xun Mu, Shi Tong, Tang Zhen, and the rest they formed a ring of mutual cover like lip and teeth. A certain Lao Chuan of Henei petitioned the throne: "Runan, Yingchuan, and Nanyang traffic in hollow fame and throw their weight about unchecked; Ganling is split into rival southern and northern cliques, and the capital region is worse still." The case was kicked to the eunuchs' North Prison; for the first time the full machinery of purge and prison came into view. The wide hempfield meant many good men still stood in court. The well promised that even in distress the rule of law would not be lost. The frayed edges meant villainy had flared beyond correction. "Chew again" echoed the toasts by which Luoyang nobles bullied each other into another cup. It mocked meat-eating grandees who ignored the state and drowned only in banquet noise. "This year we scrape by" meant the court still stopped at stripping offices—mere faction proscription. "Next year the bells" was the massacre of Chen Fan and Dou Wu and the collapse that followed.
58
使
Another late-Huan rhyme went: "Little white-topped coaches—what an endless stream! From Hejian they come, all in tune—from Hejian they come, all in tune!" Jiedu Post stood in Raoyang county under Hejian—ground zero for the omen. Within weeks Emperor Huan was dead; heralds and the Marquis of Jiedu rolled toward Luoyang in white-canopied wagons from Hejian. Yanyan painted the long, crowded train of coaches. Liu You had urged Liu Hong's accession and won a palace post; Hou Lan, fearing a rival at the emperor's ear, had him packed off to Taishan and hounded to death by the metropolitan commandant. Courtiers remembered Liu You's service and raised his brother Liu He to minister of education—Hejian's "harmony" made good after all.
59
As Emperor Ling's reign failed, children sang: "No lord is lord, no king is king—thousands of chariots climb Beimang Hill." In Zhongping 6 the young Liu Xie was hustled to the throne while his brother lacked even a princely rank; dozens of eunuchs led him off with the whole bureaucracy trailing until the party turned back only at the Yellow River. That was the scene the rhyme called "no marquis, no king, climbing Beimang."
60
西殿
Mid-Zhongping Luoyang took up a bitter refrain: every line of life's pomp ended in the refrain "Dong flees"—a drumbeat on the name Dong Zhuo. The hidden word was Dong Zhuo: "however he strutted, the song foretold he would end in flight and clan extinction."
61
When Emperor Xian first mounted the throne, Luoyang children chanted: "The grass that runs a thousand li—how lush and green! Ten days atop the divination sign—no survivor below." Read as a riddle, the lines stack into the characters for Dong Zhuo. Charade characters normally stack from the top outward; none start from the bottom and climb— —so Heaven arranged the pieces to show Zhuo thrusting upward from below, a subject bullying his sovereign. "Green-green" pictured his swagger at its height. "No survivor below" meant he would soon be destroyed.
62
Early in Jian'an a Jingzhou rhyme warned: "Around the eighth or ninth year the bloom fades; by the thirteenth nothing remains." Since the Guangwu restoration Jingzhou had known peace; under Liu Biao the people prospered—for about eight or nine years. "Begins to decline" foretold Lady Cai's death and the scattering of Biao's generals. The thirteenth year marked Liu Biao's own end and the people's removal toward the north under Cao Cao's Ji Province.
63
In the tenth month of Yangjia 1 wolves slaughtered ninety-seven children in Wangdu and Puyin. Li Gu quoted Jing Fang: "When the ruler loses the Way, disaster reaches the people—flee to the hills; Heaven sends wolves to devour them." The emperor took the hint, sought out neglected talent, and the wolf scourge—so the memorial claimed—abated.
64
During Jianning a pack of wolves burst through Jinyang's south gate and mauled townsfolk.
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