The Popular Romance of the Northern and Southern Dynasties

Author: Cai Dongfan / Country:
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2006-05-01
Features: The reflection of the snake's head signifies the rise of the king; witnessing the dragon's face reveals the wisdom of the woman; the hatred for heroes; the world undergoes great changes every hundred years and minor changes every thirty years. Turmoil is a common occurrence in history, even for sage emperors and wise kings, who cannot ensure eternal peace for their descendants. Therefore, when governance reaches its peak, chaos follows; when prosperity reaches its zenith, decline sets in. When decline and chaos reach their extreme, order and prosperity return, much like the orbits of planets, cycling endlessly. Half of it is related to human affairs, and half to the will of heaven. Humans can overcome heaven, but heaven can also overcome humans—this is an immutable truth of the world.
However, in China's vast territory of tens of millions of miles and hundreds of millions of people, since the Yellow Emperor, the Han and Jin dynasties were ruled by the Han ethnicity. The four frontier ethnic groups—southern, eastern, western, and northern—were secluded in remote regions and looked down upon by the Chinese. They were not even considered as dogs and sheep, but rather as the descendants of tigers and wolves. They were given four derogatory titles: southern, eastern, western, and northern. These four groups were allowed to live only outside the Central Plains and were forbidden to enter. The ancients called this the "great defense of Huaxia," meaning this very thing. (The boundaries must be strict, but arrogance is also wrong.)
After the Han and Jin dynasties, foreign tribes gradually entered China and settled in the interior. The rulers of the Central Plains mistakenly adopted a policy of leniency toward foreigners, leading to the gradual weakening of their defenses. The foreign tribes grew and multiplied, like a small stream merging into a river. If a snake is not crushed when young, it will grow into a python. Thus, the Five Barbarians and Sixteen Kingdoms rose and fell one after another, turning the vast Central Plains into a world dominated by barbarians. Later, through conquest and absorption, the Sixteen Kingdoms were merged into a single large country called Northern Wei. The Northern Wei was very powerful, and its ruling family belonged to one of the Five Barbarians. At that time, the Han ethnicity was declining, and there were no wise rulers. Only a few strong figures in the south resisted the powerful barbarians, preserving half of the realm and stabilizing the crisis. The Han culture and customs were still preserved to some extent, preventing the entire land from falling into chaos.
However, the rulers in the south were tyrannical and unprincipled, breaking moral and ethical norms. They usurped and stole, lacking filial piety and loyalty. For a hundred and fifty years of turmoil, the dynasties changed three times, with four rulers in total, totaling twenty-three emperors. Most of them were foolish, while a few were wise. (The evaluation is accurate.) Unlike the Northern Wei rulers, who had one or two capable of both martial and literary talents (martial referring to Emperor Taiwu of Northern Wei, and literary referring to Emperor Xiaowen of Northern Wei), they governed the land, improved governance, and promoted military and cultural achievements, showing a vigorous and outstanding demeanor unlike ordinary people. They often mocked the rulers in the south as "southern barbarians" (calling the south "barbarian" was merely self-inflicted). The people in the south, who originally called themselves descendants of the Han, naturally could not accept it and called the Northern Wei "the barbarian state of Suo." The verbal disputes escalated into armed conflicts, often resulting in wars due to the Northern Wei's strength and the south's weakness, causing constant unrest in the Jianghuai region.
Fortunately, fate played tricks on the Northern Wei, causing internal conflicts and divisions. The Northern Wei split into two factions, east and west, turning a unified state into a dual political system. The east fought the west, and the west fought the east, with neither side able to gain the upper hand, leaving no time to pay attention to the south. Thus, the south was preserved. However, the rulers in the south were foolish, and the region remained confined and struggled to survive. When Eastern Wei became Northern Qi and Western Wei became Northern Zhou, the Central Plains were divided into three parts. Zhou was strong, Qi was second, and the south was weak, forming a stalemate for several years. Qi was eventually conquered by Zhou, which controlled eighty percent of the Central Plains, while the south retained only twenty percent, nearly falling entirely under Zhou's rule.
Among them, a great prime minister named Yang Jian usurped the Zhou dynasty and unified the south, relying on the foundation of Northern Zhou. However, Yang was of Han descent and traced his lineage to Yang Zhen, the Grand Commandant of the Han dynasty. His family was known for loyalty and virtue, earning widespread respect. Moreover, ruling the Han with Han methods won the allegiance of people from both the north and south. With the "dragon's horn" appearing above and the "king's writing" in hand (both of which will be explained later), he accepted the throne of Zhou and then conquered the Chen dynasty, unifying the Central Plains and merging the north and south. At that time, people's hearts turned toward him, and after extreme chaos, they longed for order. They believed the world was now at peace and would enjoy eternal tranquility. But they soon discovered that the empire was strong on the outside but weak on the inside, controlled by court intrigue. The petty tyrant Ame (Emperor Yang's childhood name) seized the throne, even killing his father and brothers, his stepmother, and his half-sister. His arrogance was like that of Emperor Cangwu of Song, his debauchery like that of Emperor Donghun of Qi, his foolishness like that of Emperor Xiangdong of Liang, and his extravagance like that of Emperor Changgong of Chen. He repeated all the mistakes that led to the downfall of the four dynasties in the south, abandoning all moral principles and acting like a beast in human guise. As a result, heaven and people were angered, and disaster struck from within. His head was cut off, leaving him with nothing but ruin, the state falling into chaos, his wife and concubines humiliated, and his children and grandchildren harmed. The situation was even more chaotic than the end of the Song, Qi, Liang, and Chen dynasties.
Ah! Can this truly be called an era of unification? I remember Li Yanshou of the Tang dynasty, who wrote separate histories of the Northern and Southern dynasties. The histories of the Song, Qi, Liang, and Chen dynasties were part of the Southern History, while those of the Wei, Qi, Zhou, and Sui dynasties were part of the Northern History. His intention was very profound. Not only did the founding of the Yang dynasty stem from Northern Zhou, making it belong to the Northern History, but the conduct of Yang and his son also did not resemble those of a sage ruler. Although they succeeded by chance and ruled both the north and south, they were still prone to rise and fall quickly. After only one generation, the dynasty fell. This could only be considered an intercalary cycle and should not be regarded as legitimate. (A unique perspective.)
Following tradition, I will narrate this story in the style of a fictional work, compiling a "Romance of the Northern and Southern Histories" from beginning to end. The audience has already heard the prologue, and now begins the main narrative of the Northern and Southern Histories.
To say more, in the first year of the Xingning era of Emperor Xuan of Eastern Jin, in Dantu County of the south, a notorious figure of chaos was born. His name was Liu Yu, styled De'yu, and his childhood name was Jìnú. His distant ancestors were the younger brother of Emperor Gaozu of Han, King Yuan of Chu, who was enfeoffed in Chu and established the city of Pengcheng. His descendants lived in Pengcheng. When the Jin court moved east, the Liu family moved to Jingkou in Dantu County. Liu Jing, the governor of Dong'an, was his grandfather, and Liu Qiao, the county clerk, was his father. Since King Yuan of Chu, there had been twenty-one generations of the Liu family down to Liu Yu. When Liu Yu was born, it was nighttime, but the entire room was filled with light as bright as daylight. However, the infant's birth was considered inauspicious, and his father Qiao wanted to abandon him. Fortunately, one of his paternal aunts, pitying the orphaned child, took him in and raised him. Qiao later married a daughter of the Xiao family as his concubine, who treated Liu Yu with kindness and raised him diligently. Liu Yu grew stronger, and by the time he was still a teenager, he had grown over seven feet tall.
When Qiao fell ill and died, he left behind a widow and an orphan, who lived in sorrow and poverty. Their family finances were dire, and they often worried about hunger and cold. Liu Yu disliked studying and knew only a few common characters. He enjoyed practicing martial arts and archery, but had no place to practice in the village. Due to urgent needs, he had to weave sandals to earn a living and cut firewood for cooking. Despite his hard labor, he often went hungry, but he always treated his stepmother with utmost respect, even if it meant going without food himself. (Highlighting filial piety, reflecting on ancient and modern values.)
One day, Liu Yu visited the (Bamboo Forest Temple) in Jingkou and felt tired, so he fell asleep in front of the lecture hall. The monks did not know his name and, seeing his ragged clothes, were about to drive him away. Suddenly, a dragon-shaped pattern appeared on his body, glowing in five colors, and the monks were greatly astonished, shouting loudly. Liu Yu was awakened and asked what was happening. The monks still stared at him, marveling at the sight. After repeated questioning, they finally described what they had seen. Liu Yu smiled and asked, "Is the dragon light still there?" The monks replied, "No." Liu Yu then said, "You must be mistaken! It must have been the sunlight that deceived your eyes, creating the illusion of five colors." The monks, before he finished speaking, all shouted, "We clearly saw a five-colored dragon covering your body—how can you say it was sunlight?" Liu Yu did not argue further and left immediately.
Upon returning home, he reflected on what the monks had said and wondered if it was true that a dragon protected him, signifying his future greatness. He thought deeply but remained uncertain. By evening, he could not sleep and tossed and turned until falling into a dazed sleep. In his dream, he seemed to see two dragons coiling on either side of him, and he leaped onto their backs, riding them into the sky. The sky was filled with colorful clouds and purple mist, and he did not know where he was. The dragons flew past many mountains and rivers until they were suddenly surrounded by a thick black mist, as dark as if the world had turned to night. Looking down, he saw a river with a faint yellow glow in the water (the black mist symbolized Northern Wei, and the yellow river indicated the northern part of Henan, which was controlled by the Song dynasty in its early years, foreshadowing this). The dragon's head seemed to be frightened and circled in the air before plunging into the river. Liu Yu was terrified and cried out, but the sound jolted him awake. Opening his eyes, he saw only his old bed and a half-burned lamp on the table, as he had forgotten to extinguish it before sleeping. Reflecting on the dream, he could not understand it, but he thought that riding a dragon to the heavens was a good omen, suggesting that he would rise to prominence in the future. He blew out the lamp and tried to sleep again, but this time he did not fall asleep. Before long, the rooster crowed four times, and the morning light appeared outside the window.
Liu Yu got up, cooked breakfast, and served his stepmother first. He ate hastily but felt full. He then told his stepmother he wanted to visit his father's grave. She agreed. On the way, he met an geomancer named Kong Gong, who looked somewhat familiar to him. Liu Yu seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation and learned that Kong Gong was traveling to find auspicious land for wealthy families. He accompanied Kong Gong to Hou Mountain, which was where Liu Qiao was buried. Due to his family's poverty, Liu Yu had built a simple grave for his father, unmarked and unadorned, just a small mound of earth. No one else knew about it except Liu Yu. He jokingly asked Kong Gong, "How do you think this grave is?" Kong Gong walked around the grave and said, "This grave must have been buried by a great person—it's a site destined for greatness." Liu Yu pretended not to know, but asked when he would become prosperous. Kong Gong replied, "Not in a few years, but there will be signs of it. In the future, you will be truly great." Liu Yu laughed and said, "Are you saying I might become an emperor?" Kong Gong also laughed and said, "Who knows if your descendants won't become emperors?" They exchanged jokes for a while. Kong Gong was joking, but Liu Yu took it to heart. After parting ways, Liu Yu returned home with a sense of self-confidence. However, the time was not yet right, and his livelihood remained the same. He spent his days working—either weaving sandals or cutting firewood. Sometimes, he would hunt birds and animals to supplement his meals.
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