← Back to 史記

游俠列傳

Biographies of Knight-errants

Chapter 124 of 史記 ✓ Translated
← Previous Chapter
Chapter 124
Next Chapter →
1
Han Feizi once wrote: "Confucian scholars subvert the law with their writings, and wandering knights defy authority with their swords." Both were censured, yet scholars have always found admirers in the world. Those who rose to become chancellors and ministers through political craft, who served as their lord's right hand, whose deeds and reputations fill the histories — they need no further comment. Then there were men like Ji Ci and Yuan Xian — common folk of the lanes and alleys who cherished their books and upheld the solitary virtues of the true gentleman. They refused on principle to bend to the age, and the age laughed at them in return. So Ji Ci and Yuan Xian lived out their days in bare rooms behind wattle doors, clad in rough cloth and eating thin gruel, yet never once complained. More than four hundred years after their deaths, their disciples still honor their memory without flagging. Now consider the wandering knights. Their conduct may not conform to orthodox morality, yet when they give their word they keep it, when they commit to action they see it through, and when they make a promise they honor it with their lives. They throw themselves into the perils of others without sparing their own bodies, having stared down life and death without flinching — and yet they never boast of their abilities or trumpet their virtue. Surely there is much in them to admire.
2
After all, desperate need is something that comes to every person sooner or later. The Grand Historian remarks: In the old days, Emperor Shun was nearly killed in a well and a granary. Yi Yin labored among the pots and cutting boards. Fu Yue hid himself at the cliffs of Fu. Lu Shang was reduced to desperate straits at Jijin. Guan Zhong wore fetters. Baili Xi fed cattle for a living. Confucius was besieged at Kuang and went hungry until his face turned sallow between Chen and Cai. All of these were the very paragons that scholars call men of virtue and benevolence — yet even they suffered such calamities. How much worse, then, for ordinary people struggling through the dregs of a disordered age? The hardships people endure are beyond all telling!
3
Common folk have a saying: "What does anyone know about benevolence and righteousness? Whoever reaps the profits is the one called virtuous." Bo Yi despised the Zhou conquest and starved himself to death on Mount Shouyang, yet Kings Wen and Wu were none the less regarded as kings on that account. Robber Zhi and Zhuang Qiao were violent and cruel, yet their followers sang praises to their righteousness without end. Seen in this light, the old saying is no empty proverb: "Steal a belt buckle and you are executed; steal a kingdom and you are made a lord — and at the lord's gate, benevolence and righteousness take up residence."
4
使
Today's pedantic scholars may cling to their narrow slice of righteousness and remain alone in the world for a lifetime — but can that compare with those who lower their standards to the common level and ride the currents of the age to win glory and renown? Yet among the common people there are those whose dealings are governed by honor, whose word is celebrated a thousand li away, who face death without a second thought for worldly consequence — there is something admirable in this that should not be dismissed. When a gentleman is cornered and desperate and finds someone willing to stake their life on his behalf — is this not the very thing people mean when they speak of a worthy hero? If one were to weigh the local knights against Ji Ci and Yuan Xian in terms of power and achievement, measuring their service to the age — they simply cannot be spoken of in the same breath. In the end, when we judge by deeds accomplished and promises kept, how can anyone dismiss the code of the wandering knights?
5
退
Of the ancient knights-errant who rose from the common people, nothing survives to tell their tales. In more recent times, the Lord of Yanling, Lord Mengchang, Lord Chunshen, Lord Pingyuan, and Lord Xinling all drew on royal kinship and the vast wealth of their fiefs to attract the worthiest men under heaven and win renown among the feudal lords — they were, by any measure, men of worth. It is like shouting downwind — the voice itself is no louder, but the force of circumstance carries it far. But the knights of the lanes and alleys who cultivated their conduct and burnished their reputations until their fame spread across the realm and all people praised them as worthy — that is the truly difficult thing. Yet both the Confucian and the Mohist schools rejected and excluded them, leaving them unrecorded. Before the Qin dynasty, the knights-errant who rose from humble origins were lost to oblivion. I find this deeply regrettable. From what I have heard, since the founding of the Han there have been men like Zhu Jia, Tian Zhong, Wang Gong, Ju Meng, and Guo Jie. Though they sometimes clashed with the laws of their day, their personal honor, integrity, and modesty were deserving of the highest praise. Their reputations were not built on nothing, and the men who rallied to them did not do so without reason. As for those who formed factions and built up their clans through collusion, who used their wealth to exploit the poor, who bullied the helpless and the weak, who indulged their desires for their own pleasure — the wandering knights despised such people as much as anyone. It grieves me that the world fails to understand their true motives and carelessly lumps men like Zhu Jia and Guo Jie together with violent strongmen, deriding them all as one.
6
Zhu Jia of Lu lived in the same era as Emperor Gaozu. The people of Lu were all devoted to Confucian learning, but Zhu Jia won his fame through knight-errantry. The fugitives and heroes he sheltered and saved numbered in the hundreds; the ordinary folk he helped were too many to count. Yet he never boasted of his abilities or took pride in his virtuous deeds, and of all the people he had once helped, he dreaded nothing more than running into them again. When he gave aid to those in need, he always started with the poorest and most humble. His household had no spare wealth. His clothes bore no fine colors. His meals had no second course. His only conveyance was an ox-drawn cart. He devoted himself entirely to the urgent needs of others, putting them above his own private concerns. After he had secretly rescued General Ji Bu from peril, once Ji Bu rose to a position of honor, Zhu Jia never sought him out again for the rest of his life. From the Pass eastward, there was no one who did not crane their neck, hoping for the chance to befriend him.
7
Tian Zhong of Chu was known for his chivalry and loved swordsmanship. He served Zhu Jia with the respect due a father and considered his own conduct inferior to the master's. After Tian Zhong passed away, there arose in Luoyang a man named Ju Meng. The people of the Zhou region made their living by trade, but Ju Meng won his fame among the lords through knight-errantry. When the kingdoms of Wu and Chu rose in rebellion, the Marquis of Tiao was serving as Grand Commandant. On his way to Henan by relay carriage, he secured the allegiance of Ju Meng and exclaimed with delight: "Wu and Chu have launched their great revolt without enlisting Meng — I know now they are doomed to fail." When the empire was in turmoil, winning Ju Meng to one's side was said to be worth as much as conquering an enemy state. In conduct, Ju Meng closely resembled Zhu Jia, though he had a fondness for gambling and the diversions of young men. When Ju Meng's mother died, mourners came from distant places to attend the funeral — the carriages numbered close to a thousand. When Ju Meng himself died, his household had not so much as ten pieces of gold to its name. Wang Meng of Fuli was likewise celebrated as a knight-errant throughout the region between the Yangtze and the Huai.
8
使使
Around this time, the Jian clan of Jinan and Zhou Yong of Chen were also renowned as local strongmen. Emperor Jing heard of them and dispatched agents to have them all put to death. After them, new figures emerged one after another: Zhu Bai of Dai, Han Wubi of Liang, Xue Xiong of Yangzhai, and Han Ru of Shan.
9
使 使 使
Guo Jie was a native of Zhi, with the courtesy name Wengbo. He was the maternal grandson of the famous physiognomist Xu Fu. His father had practiced knight-errantry and was executed for it during the reign of Emperor Wen. Guo Jie was short and slight in build, but tough and sharp, and he did not drink. In his youth he was secretive and ruthless; whenever something displeased him, the men he personally killed were very many. He risked his life to avenge his friends, harbored fugitives, committed robberies and raids, counterfeited coins, and plundered tombs — his crimes were beyond counting. Yet as if blessed by heaven, whenever he was cornered he always managed to slip free, or happened to fall under an amnesty. As Guo Jie grew older, he reformed himself and became frugal. He repaid grudges with kindness, gave generously, and expected little in return. Yet his relish for the role of knight-errant only deepened with time. Though he saved men's lives without taking any credit, the old ruthless instinct was etched deep in his heart and would still flare up at the slightest provocation. The young men who admired him would avenge perceived slights on his behalf, without even letting him know. Guo Jie's nephew, trading on his uncle's power, was once drinking with a man and tried to force him to drain his cup. When the man could not handle any more, the nephew insisted on forcing the wine down his throat. The man flew into a rage, drew his sword, and stabbed the nephew to death, then fled. Guo Jie's sister was furious and cried: "With all of Wengbo's vaunted sense of justice, someone has killed my son and the murderer goes free!" She left her son's corpse lying in the road and refused to bury him, hoping to shame Guo Jie into action. Guo Jie sent agents to quietly discover the killer's whereabouts. The killer, finding himself cornered, came and surrendered to Guo Jie of his own accord, telling him the whole truth. Guo Jie said: "You were right to kill him. My nephew was in the wrong." He let the killer go, laid the blame on his own nephew, and then collected the body and gave it a proper burial. When people heard this story, they all praised Guo Jie's sense of justice, and even more men rallied to his side.
10
使
Whenever Guo Jie passed through the streets, everyone made way for him. One man alone sat sprawled with his legs outstretched and stared at him. Guo Jie sent someone to ask the man's name. His followers wanted to kill the man on the spot. Guo Jie said: "If I live in my own neighborhood and cannot even command respect, that is a failing of my own virtue. What crime has the man committed?" He then secretly instructed the local constable: "This man is under my protection. When his turn comes for conscript labor, exempt him." Each time the conscript labor rotation came around, his turn was passed over again and again, and the officials never called on him. The man found this puzzling and asked why, only to discover that Guo Jie had arranged his exemption. The man who had sat sprawling came to Guo Jie, bared his shoulders, and begged forgiveness. When the young men heard this story, their admiration for Guo Jie's conduct only grew.
11
使
There were people in Luoyang locked in a bitter feud. More than ten of the town's leading men had tried to mediate, but neither side would listen. At last someone went to Guo Jie for help. Guo Jie visited the feuding party by night, and the man yielded and agreed to accept his mediation. Guo Jie then said to the man: "I hear that many of the Luoyang worthies have tried to settle this dispute and you have refused them all." "Now you are willing to listen to me, but how can I, an outsider from another county, presume to usurp the authority of the worthy men of your own town?" He then slipped away in the night without letting anyone know, saying: "Do not settle this yet. Wait until I am gone, then let one of the Luoyang worthies mediate, and accept his terms."
12
Guo Jie was scrupulously respectful and never presumed to ride in a carriage when visiting the county offices. When he traveled to neighboring commanderies and kingdoms to intercede on someone's behalf, he would see the matter through if it could be resolved. If the matter could not be resolved, he made sure each party felt they had been heard, and only then would he allow himself to accept food or drink. For this reason, the local worthies held him in deep respect and vied with one another to be of service. The young men of the town and the leading men of neighboring counties would arrive at his door at midnight, often with more than ten carriages, begging for the privilege of hosting his guests and providing for them.
13
使
When the government ordered the relocation of wealthy and powerful families to Maoling, Guo Jie's family was too poor to meet the property threshold, but the officials were afraid of him and did not dare leave him behind. General Wei Qing spoke on his behalf to the emperor: "The Guo Jie household is poor and does not qualify for relocation." The emperor replied: "A commoner whose influence is great enough to make a general speak on his behalf — his household is not poor." And so the Guo Jie household was relocated after all. The farewell gifts from the worthies who saw him off totaled more than ten million cash. It was the son of Yang Jizhu, a fellow native of Zhi who served as a county clerk, who had nominated Guo Jie for the relocation. Guo Jie's nephew cut off the head of the young clerk Yang. From this point on, the Yang and Guo clans became bitter enemies.
14
使
When Guo Jie arrived in the Guanzhong region, the local worthies and strongmen — whether they knew him personally or not — had all heard his name and competed to befriend him. Guo Jie was short in stature and did not drink. When he went out, he never rode with a mounted escort. Before long, someone also killed Yang Jizhu himself. The Yang family submitted a memorial to the throne, but the person who delivered it was murdered right at the palace gates. When the emperor heard of this, he ordered the authorities to arrest Guo Jie. Guo Jie fled, settling his mother and household at Xiayang while he himself made for Linjin. Ji Shaogong of Linjin had never met Guo Jie. Guo Jie approached him under a false name and through him arranged to slip past the border checkpoint. After Ji Shaogong had helped him through the checkpoint, Guo Jie traveled on into Taiyuan, revealing his identity to his hosts at each stop along the way. The authorities pursued him and traced his trail back to Ji Shaogong. Ji Shaogong killed himself, sealing the secret with his death. After a long search, Guo Jie was finally captured. When the authorities exhaustively investigated his crimes, they found that all the killings attributed to Guo Jie had occurred before the most recent amnesty. In Zhi, a Confucian scholar was seated in the company of the imperial envoy. When a guest began praising Guo Jie, the scholar spoke up: "Guo Jie does nothing but use cunning to break the law — what is worthy about that!" When Guo Jie's followers heard what the scholar had said, they killed him and cut out his tongue. The authorities charged Guo Jie with the crime, but in truth he did not know who had done the killing. The killer vanished completely, and no one ever discovered who it was. The officials submitted their finding that Guo Jie was not guilty. The Imperial Counselor Gongsun Hong argued: "Guo Jie is a commoner who practices knight-errantry and wields unauthorized power. Men are killed over the slightest grudge on his account. Even if he did not know of it, this crime is greater than if he had killed them with his own hand." "He should be condemned for the crime of high treason." And so the entire clan of Guo Jie was exterminated.
15
西退 西調
From this time onward, those who styled themselves knights-errant were extremely numerous, but they were arrogant and of no account. Among them, Fan Zhongzi of Chang'an in the Guanzhong region, Zhao Wangsun of Huaili, Gao Gongzi of Changling, Guo Gongzhong of Xihe, Lu Gongru of Taiyuan, Er Changqing of Linhuai, and Tian Junru of Dongyang — though all knights-errant — carried themselves with the modesty and restraint of true gentlemen. As for the Yao clan of the northern road, the Du family of the western road, Qiu Jing of the southern road, Zhao Ta and Lord Yu of the eastern road, and Zhao Diao of Nanyang and their kind — they were nothing more than Robber Zhis lurking among the common folk, and hardly worth discussing! They would have been a disgrace in the eyes of the great Zhu Jia.
16
The Grand Historian remarks: I have looked upon Guo Jie myself. In appearance he was less than ordinary, and in speech there was nothing remarkable about him. Yet throughout the empire, whether worthy or base, whether they had met him or not, all people admired his name, and whenever anyone spoke of knight-errantry, they invoked Guo Jie as the standard. As the proverb says: "When a man's renown so far outstrips his appearance, will the world's fascination ever end?" Alas — how tragic!
← Previous Chapter
Back to Chapters
Next Chapter →