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Volume 195 Biographies 120: Filial Obedience and Brotherly Friendship

Chapter 195 of 新唐書 · New Book of Tang
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Chapter 195
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1
Over the two hundred eighty-eight years of Tang rule, those famed at court for filial piety and brotherly devotion were largely humble folk from back lanes who pricked and collected herbs—yet all earned a place in the official histories.
2
西西 西
From Wannian came Wang Shigui; from Chang'an, Yan Daifeng; from Jingyang, Tian Boming; from Huayuan, Han Nantuo; from Huazhou, Wang Qutan; and from Zheng County, Xin Fawang, Guo Shiju, Zhang Chang, Guo Shidu, Zheng Di, Liu Renzhong, Neng Junde, Liu Chong, Gan Yuanshuang, Han Zishang, and Han Siyue—together with Zhang Wanche of Xiaji; Shentu Sigong and Lü Ang of Chaoyi; Zhang Yuanliang of Hequ; Sun Zhihe of Lingtai; Feng Mengjiang of Xinping; Sima Fen of Yichuan; Zhou Chongjun of Luojiao; He Shanyi of Luochuan; Cui Dingren of Boling; Yan Yiqian of Jizhou; Ma Heng of Beizhou; Zheng Shicai of Cangzhou; Sun Chuxin and Liu Xian of Qingchi; Bian Fengju of Bohai; Zhu Baoji of Yingzhou; Su Funian of Leling; Zhang Zheng of Handan; Feng Renhai and Guo Shousu of Jize; Dong Xiang of Wen'an; Wang Daduo, Zhang Qiugan, and Zhang Yilang of Wuyi, with grandsons Shi Shicai and Zhang Yijie; Zhao Junhui of Shahe; Gu Gande of Nanle; Mao Ren of Weixian; Ru Zhida of Wucheng; Wang Shiwei and Li Siren of Liting; Li Wenchou of Linhe; Hou Chinu of Tangyin; Peng Siyi, Chen Qi, and Tian Diyue of Gucheng; Lu Yiren and Wang Zhidao of Taiyuan; Jia Xiaocai of Puzhou; Wei Xuanbiao of Jie County; Zhang Lijian of Nanyue; the many filial men of Anyi led by Cao Wenxing; Dong Jingzhi of Yuxiang; the Lü and Zhang households of Hedong; Guo Wenzheng of Hexi; Ren Zhongji and Yuan Rongbi of Yique; Zhang Shiyan of Bianzhou; Jia Shiliang and Dong Yungong of Chenliu; Yang Sizhen of Weishi; Pan Liangyuan and his son Ji Tong of Zhongmou; Shi Huixun of Yangwu; Yang Songgui of Fengqiu; Li Yidao of Xutian; Cai Hong and Shi Shanxiong of Zuocheng, with grandson Yanwei; Hu Juncai of Langshan; Huangfu Heng of Xuzhou; Yin Wurong of Pengcheng; Liu Bao of Jingzhou; Shi Chuan of Changshou; Jiao Huaisu and Guo Jinghua of Yizhou; Cao Shaowei of Qixian; Zhao Yan of Fucheng; Zhao Guangyu and Huang of Ziyang; Ma Dongwang, Qin Ju, and Wang Xingsi of Zitong; Fan Yi of Yizheng; Wei Shizong and Wen Boying of Brazil, with son Quan; Li Zhengu of Nanzheng; Zhang Jinzhao of Chaoxian; Liao Hong of Wanzai; Su Zhongfang of Nanling; Zhang Zan of Poyang; Xie Weiqin, Shen Pu, and Jiang Ju of Leping; Bao Jiafu and Yu Rongzhen of Shangrao; Zhang Changyu of Jurong; Zhang Qiu and Li Ying of Yiyang, with sons Ning and Sun Chu; Huang Zhou of Guixi; Xiong Shishan of Jianchang; Yuan Ming of Linjiang; Xie Jun of Gan County; He Gongbian, Zhang Chengmian, and Fang Zong of Yuhang; He Qimen of Jiande; Zhu Xijin of Tonglu; Zhang Wanhe of Zhuji; Li Wei, Xu Bohui, Dai Gong, and Yu Jin of Xiaoshan; Xu Zhixin and Xu Huichen of Xin'an; Ying Xian and Tang Junyou of Dongyang; Xu Lichuan of Muzhou; Liu Chang of Jianyang; Huang Gen, Zhang Jushao, and Wu Hai of Shaowu; Huang Jiayou of Quanshan; and Wang Yi of Yongtai—each renowned for serving parents and observing mourning with utmost devotion. Song Xinggui of Wannian; Zhang Kuo of Fengxian; Zhang Renxing of Liyang; Dong Sichong of Yueyang; Yan Min and Yan Feng of Hucheng; Yong Xiangao of Gaoping; Zhou Siyi and Zhang Ziying of Zhengping; Zhang Junmi, Qin Defang, Ma Xuancao, and Li Junze of Quwo; Zhao Deyan of Taiping; Chen Si of Longxi; Lü Yuanjian of Beihai; Song Guangzhi of Jingcheng; Liu Jiujiang of Shanfu; Xu Wenliang of Wudi; Wu Zhengbiao of Leling; Liu Xuan and Dong Yong of Hejian; Ren Junyi and Wei Kai of Anyi; Liang Shenyi, He Jianshe, and Zhang Qiyi of Longmen; Wang Yuanxu and Kou Yuantong of Zheng County; Xu Xingzhou of Shucheng; Fang Liangkun of Muzhou; Dai Yuanyi of Tonglu; Song Lian of Gao'an; Wan Yan of Jingxian; Li Zhi of Yiyang; and Wang Pi of Fanchang—each from a household where several generations lived together under one roof. In each case the throne publicly honored their households at gate and lane, granted grain and cloth, had local officials look in on them, exempted them from taxes, and in some instances even appointed them to office.
3
祿 漿 使
During the Tang, Chen Cangqi wrote Supplement to the Materia Medica and claimed that human flesh could cure emaciating disease; thereafter, whenever parents were sick, people commonly gouged flesh from their own thighs to feed them. The annals also record filial exemplars from across the empire: Zhang Ajiu and Zhao Yan of the capital region, Zhao Zhengyan of Fengtian, the Yulin guardsman Tan Ronglu, Wu Xiaoyou of Zheng County, Yin Yihua of Huayin, Zhang Guangci of Luzhou, Nan Duan of Jie County, Li Zhongxiao and Han Fang of Hedong, Ren Kenü of Yanling, Zhang Ziying of Jiang County, Yang Xianchao of Pingyuan, the musician Duan Risheng, the Hedong general Chen She, Feng Zi of Xiangyang, Yong Sunba of Chenggu, Zhang Baoyu and Gu Yingxiu of Yuxiang, Feng Xiucheng of Yuci, Yang Songgui and Liu Hao of Fengqiu, Zhu Tingyu and his brother Tingjin of Qingchi, Zhu Cun of Fanchang, Huang Rui of She County, the Left Thousand-Bull Cavalryman Xue Feng, and Liu Shiyue of Heyang; some were rewarded with silks, others had their homes publicly honored, and every one of them earned a place in the state's official record. Admirable indeed! As Han Yu argued: "When one's parents fall ill, one prepares medicines and tonics—that is filial duty; I have never heard that mutilating one's body counts as filial. If such acts did not violate moral principle, the sages would long since have led the common people in doing them. And if, through mischance, one dies of the wound, the guilt of self-mutilation and the extinguishing of one's line falls squarely upon that person—how then could the court honor their household as a model of excellence? Still, though these were humble folk of narrow lanes, without the cultivation of learning or ritual, anyone who could forget self for the sake of kin—and do so with genuine devotion—deserved commendation all the same. Hence roughly a score of such cases are recorded below. After the Guangming reign, military governors trampled the law and ruled vast domains as petty kingdoms; word of worthy deeds no longer reached the throne, and even the most devoted sons of filial piety lay beyond the reach of imperial reward. Accounts drawn from popular tales, whose names cannot be verified in other sources, have been left out. Men such as Li Zhiben and Zhang Zhikuan, who deferred to superiors and yielded to inferiors in the manner of true gentlemen, have been collected and set down in sequence. When Zhang Shiyan's father fell ill, his remedy called for carp, but winter had sealed the waters with ice—until an otter swam up bearing a fish in its jaws. Zhang fed it to his father, who recovered. When his mother developed a festering sore, Shiyan drew out the pus and blood with his mouth. After his father's death he kept mourning watch at the tomb, and tigers and wolves came to nestle beside him. When Jiao Huaisu's mother fell ill, he tasted her saliva each day; whenever the flavor seemed wrong, he would sob until he nearly fainted. At his mother's death he took neither food nor drink for five days, carried earth to build her tomb, and kept vigil beside it—eating once a day and rising only with the aid of a staff. When his stepmother died, he observed the same rites. Zhang Jinzhao's mother contracted a wasting disease of the hand known as "fox barb"; her left hand withered away before she died. At her burial Zhang Jinzhao severed his own left wrist and maintained a mourning hut beside the tomb. Zhang Gongyi's clan lived under one roof for nine generations; the Eastern An prince Wang Yongle of Northern Qi and the Sui envoy Liang Zigong both came in person to console them and had their gate publicly honored. When Emperor Gaozong performed the Feng sacrifice at Mount Tai, he called at Zhang's home, asked how his family had endured together so long, and Zhang answered by writing a single character—"forbearance" (ren). The emperor wept, rewarded him with silks, and took his leave. These four men were already well known; fuller accounts appear in the sections below.
4
Li Zhiben was a native of Yuanshi in Zhao Prefecture and a sixth-generation descendant of Ling, who had served as governor of Luozhou under the Northern Wei. His father Li Xiaoduan held office under the Sui as magistrate of Huojia. He and his clansman Taichong both came from eminent families, but Taichong outranked him in office and marriage; the villagers joked, "Taichong has no elder brother, and Xiaoduan has no younger brother."
5
Zhiben was versed in the classics and utterly devoted in serving his parents; with his brother Zhiyin he lived in perfect harmony. Their descendants numbered more than a hundred, who shared wealth, provisions, and servants without distinction. In the closing years of Daye, raiders would pass the neighborhood yet never step inside, warning each other: "Don't touch the Gate of Righteousness. Every one of the five hundred-odd households that sought shelter there was spared. Early in the Zhenguan era, Zhi Yin became magistrate of Yique and Zhi Ben magistrate of Xiajin. Under Kaiyuan, his grandson Zhen rose to Attendant-in-Ordinary and chief administrator of Yangzhou. Zhi Yin's grandson Yong, a gifted writer, eventually became vice director of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. Four of his father's cousins altogether served as attendants-in-ordinary.
6
使
Zhang Zhikuan came from Anyi in Pu Prefecture. He wasted away in grief during his father's mourning, and the whole district spoke of his devotion. Wang Junkuo's armies overran the countryside, yet left their lane untouched—nearly a hundred clans who sheltered with them survived unscathed. Later, as village head, he rushed to the county office claiming his mother was gravely ill and pleading to be sent home at once. When the magistrate pressed him, he said, "Whenever my mother sickens, I sicken too—that is how I know. The magistrate judged him a liar and threw him in jail, then dispatched messengers to check—and found it exactly so. Only then was he consoled and released. After her death he piled the grave with his own labor and planted every pine and cypress himself. Emperor Gaozu dispatched envoys to mourn him in person, named him extraordinary attendant-in-ordinary, granted forty bolts of goods, and ordered his neighborhood honored with an imperial plaque.
7
Liu Junliang came from Raoyang in Ying Prefecture. Four generations dwelt together; cousins behaved like full brothers, and under their roof not a single peck of grain or span of cloth was held back for oneself alone. In the great famine at the close of Sui Daye, his wife pressed for separate households. She secretly swapped the nestlings in the courtyard trees until the birds were fighting and shrieking. When the family marveled, she said, "The world is falling apart—if birds cannot share a branch, what hope is there for men? Junliang yielded at once and moved out with his brothers. A month later he saw through her plot, cast her out, and cried, "You have ruined our house! He called his brothers back, told them through tears what had happened, and they took up common life once more. As the empire unraveled, neighbors flocked to him; hundreds banded together into a walled refuge they named Fort of Righteous Accomplishment. During Wude, Shen Prefecture's vice-prefect Yang Hongye visited his home. Six courtyards cooked from a single hearth; every son and nephew showed flawless courtesy. Hongye left sighing in wonder. In Zhenguan 6 his household was formally commended for its extraordinary unity.
8
Wang Shaoxuan came from Liaocheng in Bo Prefecture. His father was killed in the civil wars at the end of Sui; Shaoxuan was born after his death. Barely ten, he asked where his father lay. When his mother told him, he broke into mourning wails and set out to find the body. The fields were choked with anonymous bones. People said that if you smeared a bone with a son's blood and the blood sank in, you had found your father's remains. Shaoxuan cut his flesh again and again. In ten days he found the right bones and buried his father. The injuries were grave; a full year passed before he could stand again. During Zhenguan the prefecture reported his story, and he was named a staff officer in the household of the Prince of Xu.
9
西
Ren Jingchen, courtesy name Xigu, came from Di Prefecture. He lost his mother at five and mourned with a child's grief so fierce it seemed to shake the sky. At seven he asked his father Ying, "What can I do to repay Mother? Ying answered, "Bring honor to the family and let your name be known—that is repayment enough." He carved that vow into his heart and threw himself into learning. Ren Chujian of Runan read his essays and exclaimed, "Confucius praised Yan Hui and said he himself fell short— I am no sage of old, but meeting this boy I know I can never catch up to him. At sixteen Prefect Cui Shu meant to nominate him as a presented scholar. Judging his learning still shallow, Jingchen slipped away. Three years later he finished his studies, earned recommendation as filial and incorrupt, and received appointment as proofreader in the Bureau of Authorship. At his father's death he collapsed again and again. His stepmother said, "If you cannot survive your mourning, what filial piety is that? Jingchen forced himself to take thin gruel once more. After the mourning period he was promoted to secretary in the Palace Library. On rest days he barred the gate and read aloud through the house. Supervisor Yu Shinan admired him. At year's end Shinan marked him top of the roster; Jingchen refused the honor outright. He was called to the Hongwen Hall as a scholar, then soon made libationer of the Western Pavilion in the Prince of Yue's household. The prince repeatedly petitioned to keep him at court, and he rose to gentleman for court audiences. He passed the decree examination and was appointed literary scholar to the household of the Prince of Xu. Zhi Shucai came from Ding Prefecture.
10
Zhi Shucai came from Ding Prefecture. When the Sui dynasty collapsed into famine, he scavenged food in the fields by night and brought it home to his mother. Bandits seized him and were about to kill him; when he explained why he was out, they were moved by his devotion and let him go. His mother developed an abscess; he sucked the wound clean and applied the medicines himself. After her death he kept vigil in a hut by the grave, and a white magpie alighted beside his shelter. Under Emperor Gaozong, the court singled out his family for special honor.
11
In the Zhide era, Wang Yu of Changzhou and his younger brother Xia were both taken by robbers, who said they would free only one. Each brother insisted the other should live; touched by their mutual sacrifice, the thieves set them both free.
12
Cheng Yuanshi came from Song Prefecture. While his mother lay ill, he went a hundred days without loosening his clothes to sleep; no dose reached her lips until he had tasted it himself. He relieved his younger brother of military service at Luozhou. When news of his mother's death reached him, he covered two hundred li in a single day, then hauled earth to raise the grave. He wailed until he was wasted to skin and bone, and his own kin could scarcely tell who he was. The task of reburying his ancestors in the main lineage alone took him twenty years to complete. A white wolf and a yellow serpent would linger tamely to the left of the mound; whenever he broke into mourning cries, birds gathered overhead, calling and circling. During Yonghui, the prefect reported his case to the throne, and the emperor commanded officials to bring him to court with all due honor. Once he reached the capital he declined appointment; the court named him a Gentleman of the Forest of Scholars and sent him back.
13
Wu Hongdu, son of Zhang Shiyan's elder brother Shixiong, was appointed assistant military registrar of Xiang Prefecture. During Yonghui his father died. He set out from Xuzhou in mourning weeds, barefoot, and ran to the burial ground. There he heaped the grave with his own hands, keening day and night on a single cup of rice a day. White lingzhi sprang up before his tomb shelter, and tanuki sported peacefully at his side. Emperor Gaozong issued a commendatory edict and had his household gate ceremonially honored.
14
簿
Song Silu, styled Guoting, won wide renown for the devotion he showed his stepmother, Lady Xu. He served as chief clerk of Xiaoxian County. A severe drought dried every well and pool. His mother, wasted by illness, could stomach only spring water. Silu prayed in dread—and a spring suddenly welled up in the courtyard, cool and sweet, never failing day after day. The county was astonished; Assistant Magistrate Liu Huang had a stele cut to celebrate how Heaven had answered his grief.
15
祿
Zheng Qianyao was the son of Wan Jun, Princess's consort and Duke of Xingyang. His mother was the Princess of the Dai domain. During Kaiyuan, as his mother grew sick, Qianyao kept constant vigil at her bedside, never stirring even for a moment, and for three full months he would not wash his face. As her condition worsened, he pricked his arm and wrote a blood-letter pleading with the gods to take his life in place of hers. He set the letter to flame, but the words "Divine Assent" alone would not burn away. The next day his mother was well again, and he forbade anyone in her household to breathe a word of what had happened. He later married the Princess of Linjin and rose from Grand Master of Studs to Minister of Imperial Entertainments.
16
調 使 滿
Yuan Rang came from Wugong in Yong Prefecture. Though he passed the Mingjing examination, he refused office while his mother was sick and for decades never left the lane, tending her at every meal. After her death he lived in a mourning hut by the tomb, forgoing bath and grooming and subsisting on plain vegetables and water alone. During Xianheng, with the crown prince regent, the court ordered a filial-honor marker raised at his gate. In early Yongchun an inspector reported his filial devotion as extraordinary, and he was appointed chief secretary in the crown prince's Right Inner Rate Palace. When his term ended he went home, and villagers with any dispute would bring it to Rang for judgment. While Emperor Zhongzong was still heir apparent, Rang was summoned as palace reviewer. At his audience Empress Wu regarded him and said, "Filial at home, you will be loyal abroad—guide my son in the arts of rule. He died not long afterward.
17
Pei Jingyi came from Wenxi in Jiang Prefecture. His great-grandfather Zitong, a Grand Master for Palace Discourse under Sui Kaihuang, mourned his mother until weeping left him blind; a white crow nested in the tree above her grave. All eight brothers won renown for filial devotion; the throne honored their gate, and men spoke of the "Righteous Gate Pei Clan."
18
使 輿 輿
Jingyi could already write at seven, and his careful, quick mind won the clan's esteem—they nicknamed him the "Sweet Dew Crown." His father Zhizhou served as magistrate of Linhuang until subordinates brought suit against him. At fourteen he sought out the inspector Tang Lin to protest his father's injustice. Tang was astonished, set him a fu to write, and the piece was masterly. Once his father was cleared, Jingyi was recommended to court and made recorder in the household of the Prince of Chen. One day he burst into tears before his attendants: "When my father suffers, I feel it at once—now my heart pounds and aches, and I fear the worst. He begged emergency leave and raced home, only to find his father already dead; his grief wasted him beyond what ritual prescribed. In early Qianfeng he rose through successive postings to investigating censor. During his mother's illness the physician Xu Renze was too crippled to ride; Jingyi built a sedan chair and went to fetch him on foot. In mourning the court granted him silks, and officials provided his funeral carriage. After the mourning period he became a palace author and helped compile the dynastic history. He later held posts as secretariat drafting secretary and left subordinate to the crown prince. Under Empress Wu, cruel officials destroyed him, and he died in exile in Lingnan.
19
穿
Liang Wenzhen came from Minxiang in Guo Prefecture. He joined the army young and served on the frontier; by the time he came home, both parents were gone. Stricken that he had never cared for them in life, he cut a doorway into the tomb vault, swept it morning and night, and lived in a hut beside the mound—silent for thirty years, answering kin only in written words. When authorities rerouted the highway past his mourning hut, every traveler who passed wept at the sight. Sweet dew fell on the grave trees, a white rabbit lingered tamely about the mound, and the county magistrate had the marvels cut in stone. During Kaiyuan, Prefect Xu Jingxian reported his filial piety as without parallel, and the throne ordered the historians to record it.
20
Shen Jiquan, styled Ziping, came from Yuzhang in Hong Prefecture. Fatherless from boyhood, he devoted himself to his mother and never quarreled—neighbors mistook his gentleness for cowardice. Jiquan asked, "Do you call this cowardice? What son would heap trouble on the mother who bore him! In Zhenguan, escorting his mother across the Yangzi, they were caught in a squall and she drowned. Shen wailed and threw himself in after her; moments later he surfaced, bearing her arm above the flood. Regional Inspector Xie Shufang conducted the full funeral rites and laid them both to rest.
21
Xu Bohui came from Xiaoshan in Yue Prefecture. Tradition held him a twelfth-generation descendant of the filial exemplar Xuandu. He entered service through the Filial and Incorrupt recommendation. During Shangyuan he was erudite at Hengyang. At his mother's death he piled the grave with his own hands, shunning padded garments and any food with flavor. When wildfire threatened the trees around her tomb, he wailed to Heaven—and rain fell at once, and the flames died. During a drought year a spring welled up before his mourning hut, and sacred fungus sprang from the ground.
22
Chen Jiyuan came from Kaiyang in Long Prefecture. His clan had led as chieftains for generations. His father Longshu was prefect of Qinzhou; whenever Longshu fell ill, Jiyuan would immediately stop eating. After his father's death Jiyuan vomited blood by the quart; he built a hut at the tomb, gave all his land and property to his brothers, and his neighbors held him in high regard. Under Empress Wu he rose to General of the Right Leopard-Tarsus Guard.
23
宿
Lu Nanjin came from Wu district in Suzhou. His grandfather Shiji had studied the Zuoshi Chunqiu, the Sima shi, and the Banshi Han shu under Gu Yewang, a fellow townsman. Under the Sui he served as secretarial aide and reader-in-waiting to Yang Tong, Prince of Yue. When Tong took up the regency, Shiji was promoted to Master of Writings. Wang Shichong was then on the verge of usurpation. Tong said to Shiji, "The Sui have ruled for thirty years—are there really no loyal ministers left in court? Shiji answered, "To meet danger and give up one's life is what I have long resolved to do as your servant. Let me seize the next memorial audience and kill him on Your Majesty's behalf. The plot was exposed; his post as tutor was revoked, and the plan failed. Early in Zhenguan he died in office as Doctor of the Grand Academy and Scholar of the Hongwen Institute.
24
Nanjin held the post of Ritual Officer in the Directorate of Ceremonies. Early in Kaiyuan, Vice Minister Lu Chongdao was sentenced and banished to Lingnan, but escaped and returned to the Eastern Capital. Nanjin was observing mourning for his mother. Chongdao came disguised as a condolence visitor, told him his story once inside, and Nanjin concealed him. Before long a foe tracked him down and denounced him to the throne. The emperor ordered Attending Censor Wang Xu to seize and try the case. Nanjin faced a capital sentence. His younger brother Zhao Bi went to Xu and said, "I hid Chongdao. Put me to death. Nanjin insisted his brother was falsely confessing out of fraternal feeling. Xu was astonished. Zhao Bi said, "Our mother is still unburied and our sister still unwed. My brother can see to both. I am of no further use alive—death is better. Stunned, Xu memorialized the throne. Xuanzong pardoned them both.
25
Nanjin was learned in history and meticulous in his personal conduct. Zhang Yue and Lu Xiangxian praised his worth. He rose from Vice Director in the Treasury to Crown Prince Libationer, but chronic illness forced the transfer, and he died in that post.
26
忿使 耀 耀 使
Zhang Xiu came from Jie district in Hezhong. His father Shensu served as prefect of Xi. Chen Zanren falsely accused him of inflating battle honors and keeping soldiers for private use. The emperor grew suspicious and ordered Investigating Censor Yang Wang to look into the case at once. Zanren then charged that Shensu and the regional commander Dong Tangli were plotting rebellion. Wang arrested Shensu, threw him into the Yazhou jail, and raced to Xi to verify the treason accusation. Tangli, beside himself with fury, killed Zanren, then surrounded Wang with seven hundred men and forced him to submit a public memorial clearing Shensu. Soon the clerks joined in beheading Tangli, and Wang escaped. He then found Shensu guilty of actual rebellion, executed him, and seized his property. Xiu and his elder brother Huang were still boys when the family was banished to Lingnan. Years later they slipped back home. Wang had taken the new name Wanqing. Huang was thirteen; Xiu two years younger. One night they lay in wait for Wanqing at the Prince of Wei's pool. Huang struck down his horse. Wanqing panicked and never got to fight back before Xiu killed him. Xiu wrote out the reasons for the killing and fastened the note to the axe, then fled south of the Yangtze to slay those who had framed his father before surrendering to the law. At Sishui an official seized them and reported to the capital. Chief Minister Zhang Jiuling and others urged that their filial valor warranted sparing their lives. Vice Minister Pei Yaoging and others argued against it. The emperor agreed with Pei and told Jiuling, "A true filial son will not flinch from death for righteousness's sake. Execution would complete their purpose; pardon would breach the law. What son does not long to be filial? If each took revenge in turn, killing would never cease. He finally followed Pei Yaoging's counsel, though many thought the brothers were wronged. The emperor issued an edict setting out his reasoning, then had them put to death. On the scaffold they were given a last meal. Huang could not swallow; Xiu's face stayed composed. He said, "Soon I shall meet our ancestors below—what is left to regret! All who saw it grieved for them. Elegies were posted along the roads, and money was collected to bury them on Beimang. Fearing the enemy clan might desecrate the graves, they also raised false tombs so the true resting place could not be found.
27
Under Taizong there lived Wang Juncao of Jimo. At the close of the Sui his father was murdered by a neighbor, Li Junze, who then fled. Juncao was still a child. By Zhenguan the dynasty had turned over anew. Juncao was destitute and alone, and his enemy no longer feared him—so he went to the prefecture to report the case himself. Juncao had hidden a knife, struck him down, cut out his heart and liver, and devoured them on the spot. He then ran to the prefect and said, "My father was slain by this man. Twenty years I could not settle the score. Today I have at last drained my wrath. I surrender myself to die by the law. The prefect memorialized the throne, and the emperor spared his life.
28
Under Gaozong, Zhao Shiju of Jiangzhou lost his father to murder while still a boy. His mother remarried, and the killer's family never suspected him. As a man he hired himself out by day and read books by night. In time he killed the murderer with his own hand, walked into the magistrate's office, and confessed. The emperor granted him pardon.
29
Early in the Yonghui reign, Tong Ti Zhishou of Tongguan learned that clansmen had murdered his father. He and his brother Zhishuang ambushed them on the road and killed them, then marched together to the magistrate's office, each insisting he had led the attack. For three years the court could not settle who was chief culprit. Word reached the judges that the younger brother had hatched the plot, and he alone was condemned to die. On the scaffold he said, "The score is settled—I have no regret in dying." Zhishou flung himself down in a swoon, his flesh torn everywhere, and licked his brother's blood until none was left. All who witnessed it wept.
30
Under Empress Wu, Xu Yuanqing of Xiayi saw his father Shuang murdered by the county lieutenant Zhao Shiyun. He assumed a false name and hired on as a groom at a post station. Years later Shiyun, now a censor, put up at a relay inn. Yuanqing stabbed him to death, then walked in chains to surrender himself. When the throne later moved to spare him from execution, Left Remonstrator Chen Zi'ang submitted a memorial that read:
31
使
The former kings set up ritual to lift men up and made penalties plain to bring government into order. To keep vigil with weapon ready against a father's killer is what a son owes; to punish crime and bar chaos is the sovereign cord of rule. Yet where righteousness fails, the people cannot be taught; where that cord is tangled, the law cannot be made clear. The sage cultivates ritual inward and sharpens law outward, so that law-abiders do not void punishment in the name of ritual, and ritual-abiders do not wound righteousness in the name of law—only then do outrage and rebellion fade, honor and shame revive, and the realm walk the upright road.
32
Yuanqing settled his father's blood-debt and came bound to accept sentence—what hero of antiquity could outdo him? Yet the single statute stands: life for life. The law admits no double standard; Yuanqing should bear the penalty. The Commentary says, "With a father's foe one cannot live under the same heaven." That is the teaching meant to stir men's hearts. If that teaching were not held inviolate, Yuanqing would deserve pardon.
33
I have heard that penalties exist to preserve life—that is, to hold back chaos; benevolence exists to do good—that is, to raise up virtue. To avenge a father today is not chaos; to walk the son's road is benevolence. Benevolence that brings no benefit, punished like ordinary riot—one may call that skill in sentencing, but it cannot teach the people. For evil springs from what is upright, and order itself breeds turmoil when ritual's bulwarks fail—hence the former kings forged penal law. To honor Yuanqing's act of righteousness now is to cast punishment aside. Consider how he moved the realm by righteousness: he forgot his life and reached virtue. To absolve him for the sake of keeping him alive would strip away his virtue and wound his righteousness—it would not be the stature of one who dies to perfect humanity and meets death forgetful of life. I submit that the national code should first be upheld and he subjected to sentence; only afterward may his lane and grave be publicly honored.
34
The court at the time endorsed his view. Later Liu Zongyuan, Ministerial Aide in the Ministry of Rites, wrote in rebuttal:
35
The great root of ritual, too, is to ward off chaos. One may put it thus: commit no robbery or cruelty—whoever is a son, put to death without mercy. The great root of penal law is likewise to ward off chaos. One may put it thus: commit no robbery or cruelty—whoever holds office, put to death without mercy. Their foundations are one; their uses diverge. Public honor and capital punishment cannot be joined. To execute a man fit for praise is excess—an abuse of sentencing past bearing; to praise a man fit for execution is presumption—a wound to ritual past bearing.
36
Suppose Shiyun alone, nursing private spite, let an officer's swagger run wild and tortured the guiltless, while the prefect never charged a crime and the judge never held an inquiry—high and low wrapped in concealment, wails of the wronged never reaching the throne— yet Yuanqing could brood and plan until he drove the blade into his foe's breast, upright and self-mastered, content even in death—that is to keep ritual and walk in righteousness. Men in office ought to blush; they would scarcely have breath to apologize—how then put him to death?
37
Yet if the father could not escape conviction, and Shiyun's punishment broke no statute—that was death by law, not death at an officer's whim. Can one treat the law itself as a foe? To hate the Son of Heaven's law and cut down the officer who carries it out is defiance and insolence, an assault upon authority. To arrest and execute him is to set the national code straight—so where is room for praise?
38
The foe ritual speaks of is one crushed by injustice, drowning in grief, whose cry finds no ear—not one who broke the law, faced the supreme penalty, and then said, "He killed, so I kill," without weighing right from wrong, merely preying on the helpless. The "Zuo Commentary" says, "If the father was not condemned, the son may avenge him; if the father was condemned and the son still avenges him, that is the road of passing the blade onward. Vengeance does not clear the wrong." Apply that rule to a killing between high and low, and the case falls within ritual.
39
Not to forget the feud is filial; not to cling to life is righteous. Yuan Qing never stepped outside ritual bounds: he lived filial piety and died for righteousness. Surely he was a man who had grasped principle and truly heard the Way. A man who comprehends principle and hears the Way—would he ever treat the king's law as his enemy? Yet the court turned around and marked him for execution—an abusive sentence that shatters ritual. That plainly cannot stand as precedent. I ask that our deliberation be entered into the statutes, so that anyone who judges such a case hereafter will not be bound by the earlier opinion.
40
Under Emperor Xianzong, Yu Chang'an of Quzhou saw both his father and uncle killed by a neighbor, Xie Quan. At eight years old Chang'an was already plotting revenge. Seventeen years on, he at last killed Quan. Prefect Yuan Xi urged a lighter sentence, but Minister of Justice Li Yong would not yield, and in the end Chang'an was executed.
41
There was also Liang Yue of Fuping, whose father had been killed by Qin Guo. Yue slew his enemy and went to the county magistrate to surrender himself. An edict declared: "As the "Book of Rites" states, a father's enemy cannot share the same heaven with his son, yet the law demands death for anyone who kills. Ritual and law are the twin pillars of royal teaching, yet here the two teachings pull apart. Let the matter be referred to the Secretariat for deliberation." Vice Director of Personnel Han Yu submitted:
42
使
Sons who avenged their fathers appear in the "Spring and Autumn Annals," the "Record of Rites," and the "Rites of Zhou," and in histories beyond number—never once were they judged wrong and punished. This is precisely what statutes ought to spell out, yet the code contains no article on it—not because the text is incomplete. The reason, I believe, is that forbidding revenge would break a filial son's heart; yet permitting it would let men lean on the law to kill at will, with no way to stop them. Though statutes spring from the sages, it is officials who grasp and apply them. What the classics make clear is what binds those officials. To lodge the meaning plainly in the classics while burying the letter deep in the statutes is to let law officers judge by statute alone, while men versed in the classics may still bring the classics to bear in debate.
43
The "Rites of Zhou" states: "When anyone kills with justification, command that he not be avenged; if he is avenged, the avenger dies.' Righteous' means fitting." Where the killing was plainly unfitting, the son may take revenge. This concerns private blood-feuds among commoners. Gongyangzi says: "If the father was not lawfully executed, the son may avenge him." 'Did not receive lawful punishment' means the offense did not merit death. " 'Execution' is the language of the ruler imposing sentence from above—not of commoners killing one another. The "Rites of Zhou" also says: "Whoever intends to avenge a wrong shall record it with the magistrate; if he then kills, he is without guilt." That is to say: before taking revenge, one must first declare it to the authorities—only then is there no crime.
44
便
The word revenge is one, but the cases are not the same. Some are feuds among commoners, as the "Rites of Zhou" describes—these may still be weighed under present law; some concern fathers put to death by officials, as the "Gongyang Commentary" describes—these cannot be applied today. As for the "Rites of Zhou" rule that one must report before avenging: an orphan, a child, the feeble or weak, nursing a small resolve while watching for the enemy's moment, unable to speak for himself—this cannot yet be made the sole standard for judgment today. Execution and pardon cannot be one rule for all. A statute should be fixed, reading: "When anyone avenges a father's murder, upon the matter coming to light, the full facts shall be sent down to the Secretariat; deliberation shall be assembled and reported upward, and disposition made accordingly." Then the intent of the classics will not be lost.
45
An edict ruled that because Yue had voiced his grievance and surrendered himself at the capital gate, he was exiled to Xunzhou.
46
In the reign of Emperor Muzong, Kang Maide of the capital district was fourteen. His father Xian had gone to Yunyang to collect a debt from Zhang Li. Li, drunk, seized Xian and dragged him until he was near death. Maide saw that Li was violent and brutal; judging that help could not arrive in time to free his father, he lifted a spade and struck Li's head. Three days later Li died. Vice Minister of Justice Sun Ge argued: "Maide rescued his father from deadly peril—that is not wanton violence; seeing that rescue could not come in time and striking is not murderous intent. The ancient kings fashioned punishments with the bond between father and son foremost. The "Spring and Autumn Annals" judges by the heart in fixing guilt; the "Book of Documents" grants latitude in every penalty. Maide's filial nature was heaven-sent; he deserves compassionate pardon. An edict commuted his death sentence.
47
穿
Hou Zhidao and Cheng Juluo were from Lingwu in Lingzhou. During mourning for their parents, they dug the grave and raised the mound with their own hands. When neighbors offered help, they wept and turned them away. They lived beside the graves, weeping without restraint—Zhidao for seven years, Juluo for three, and would not stop. Dust and grime matted Zhidao's hair; night after night he would press against the mound, leap and wail, until birds and beasts cried out in grief beside him. Li Hua composed the "Eulogy to the Two Filial Sons" to celebrate their conduct, writing: "When humankind first arose, there were rulers and there were parents. To honor one's parents is the son's duty; to be loyal to one's ruler is the minister's. The sign issues from Heaven's mandate, descending into the order of human bonds. Who forsakes the dead betrays righteousness; who forgets the living abandons humanity. When excess has run its course, wisdom brings it to rest—and ritual gives such deeds their proper shape. Supreme indeed, the House of Hou—grief wound-deep, sorrow beyond measure. Their palms and soles grew thick with toil until the high tomb stood finished. In the black of night, when wind howled, they seemed to stand before ghosts and gods. Their cries knew no measure, piercing the wide vault of sky. Sackcloth and the deepest cut of mourning end in three years—yet you alone grieve for a lifetime. Ah, Cheng—your sorrow is his equal. Behind you, none can be matched; before you, none stands as kin."
48
There was also He Chengcui, from Chizhou. As his parent's illness tightened day by day, local custom favored shamans, and the sick refused medicine. Chengcui cut flesh from his thigh and offered it—and his parent's sickness was healed. After his parent died, he lay at the grave, weeping and stamping beyond number until grief destroyed him. His age called him "the Filial Son of Qingyang," and gentlemen wrote dirges for him in great profusion.
49
宿
Li Xing of Anfeng in Shouzhou likewise showed supreme devotion; Liu Zongyuan composed for him the "Inscription on the Gate of Filial Piety," which reads: "The prefect of Shouzhou, your servant Cheng Si, states: 'On the dinghai day of the ninth month, the magistrate of Anfeng presented Xing, a registered-household commoner of the district: his father was stricken with a grievous illness that worsened with the passing months. Xing cut flesh from his own thigh and passed it off as a gift of food. His father, too weak to eat, died the next night. Xing wailed and beat his chest until blood ran from mouth and nose; he cupped earth for the grave, steeping it in tears and mucus. To the grave's left he raised a small hut roofed in thatch and hid himself there, staff in hand, bowing and stamping, weeping and pleading through day and night. His filial heart pierced the unseen; the spirits showed signs—purple and white sacred fungus on the hut's roof, a sweet spring bubbling inside. All this springs from Your Majesty's rule by filial piety and divine transformation, moving his heart in secret until such deeds could be achieved. I respectfully note that Xing is a common man—humble in station, shallow in learning, untrained by books, who lived by hoe and plough—yet he gathered pure filial devotion that outstripped the worthies of antiquity. Heaven and the spirit-way even granted omens to proclaim his singularity. I humbly submit that Your Majesty bears the godlike virtue of Tang Yao; such a man should be honored and rewarded, fitting heaven above and earth below. I beg that his neighborhood be marked, stone carved to make it plain, his shining example spread abroad and shown to posterity without limit. Your servant dares this petition at peril of his life. The imperial reply read: Granted. The inscription says: 'How deep his filial mind—here is a noble soul. He took up pure harmony and held fast to heaven's law. In tears he nursed the failing sickness, praying in silence to the hidden powers. He turned the blade on his own body, tearing flesh and breaking his frame. He offered the fine food in tribute, worn down by anxious filial care. Yet the father on high would not see or hear. Grief vast, pain unceasing—he called to the arching heavens. He gathered earth wet with tears, striking his forehead until the tomb rose. He tore at his chest until his eyes grew raw; through winter cold and summer heat he kept to the hut. Grass and trees withered away; birds and beasts circled in anguish. Even alien peoples and strange creatures mourned with him. When the two roles first stood, filial duty was born. He perfected that path and earned his place in the annals. In the age of Emperor Shun, filial hearts multiplied. Confucius laid down the canon to instruct Zeng. Of old the Lord of Lu received his charge in the Yi chamber. There was Kaoshu too, who woke Duke Zhuang and was hailed as wholly filial. Radiant the House of Li—truly of that company. Travelers on the road wept aloud; neighbors within the lanes wept in longing. The spirits granted hidden blessings—auspicious growth in triple shoots and a sacred spring. Heaven's Son ordered rewards and distinctions, and set a mark of honor upon their gate. High and low were brought into accord; Heaven and humankind praised each other in turn. This monument was raised, its renown to bloom through endless generations.'"
50
Xu Fashen was from Qingchi in Cangzhou. At three he already showed uncommon sense. When his mother grew ill, he refused the breast and wore a face hollow with worry. When others offered rare delicacies to cheer him, he would not touch them but carried them back to his mother. After his parents died, he kept constant vigil in a hut beside the tomb—and sweet dew fell, grain grew fair, lingzhi sprouted, trees joined in a single trunk, and a white rabbit appeared. During the Tianbao reign, his neighborhood was publicly honored for these signs.
51
漿 使
Lin Zan was from Putian in Quanzhou. Early in the Zhenyuan reign he held office as aide to the magistrate of Futang. His mother was frail and old; before he could bring her to him, she took ill. When he heard, Zan abandoned his post and went home. At her death he took neither water nor food for five days. He molded bricks and raised the tomb himself, then kept a mourning hut to its right—a white crow came, and sweet dew descended. Surveillance Commissioner Li Ruochu sent officials to verify the signs; the dew happened to dry in the sun, and the villagers blanched. Zan wept aloud: "Has the dew Heaven granted come to curse me?" In a moment the dew gathered anew, and the crow circled again on the wing. An edict commanded two memorial arches erected before his mother's tomb; his neighborhood was publicly honored as well, and corvée duties were remitted—at the time they were called "the Lin household beneath the arches."
52
Chen Raonu was from Raozhou. At twelve both parents were gone; destitute, frail, and in mourning through a year of famine, some urged him to send his younger brother and sister away so he might save himself. Raonu wept and went begging in person, pleading that all might be kept and raised together. Prefect Li Fu marveled at this, supplied food and stores, and inscribed his gate: "The Filial-and-Fraternal Lad."
53
使
Wang Bowu was from Xuzhou. In the Huichang reign, while escorting his mother to Guangzhou, a sudden gale struck at Shayong Ford; his mother drowned, and Bowu threw himself into the water after her. Lingnan Military Governor Lu Zhen had his clerks lower nets into the water; both bodies were recovered and buried, and the grave was publicly marked "Tomb of the Filial Son." An edict ordered stone carved to commemorate him.
54
Wan Jingru was from Luzhou. Three generations lived under one roof; when kin died he kept vigil at the tomb, pricked his blood to copy Buddhist scriptures, and severed two fingers—yet they grew back. The prefecture renamed his home district Chengxiao Village and Guangxiao Hamlet. In the Dazhong reign, his household was publicly honored.
55
Zhang Quanyi was from Fucheng in Zizhou. Orphaned young, he was raised by his elder brother Quanqi. When their mother fell ill, Quanqi cut flesh from his thigh to feed her, and she recovered. When Quanqi died, Quanyi wore the deepest mourning and severed a finger in requital. He took no wife; servants shared his single room; he earned his bread selling medicines—legend held he could transmute gold. He dwelt in Chengdu forty years, known as Zhang the Filial Son; he died at ninety-eight.
56
Comment: The sage rules all under Heaven by a Way whose sum is this: "Everything turns on filial piety and brotherly duty." Let the father be father, the son son, the elder brother elder brother, the younger brother younger brother—carry that from the household into the state, and from the state into the world; plant one goodness and a hundred deeds will follow; where men fail, bind them with law. Hence the saying: "Filial piety is the great root of the world; law is but its outer branch." Even when a lone commoner practices filial piety in a single steadfast way, violent robbers dare not molest him; when the Son of Heaven sighs and honors such men, it is because in teaching filial piety he seeks loyalty. Therefore these lives are gathered and recorded in this chapter.
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