"Zhong Ziyun cast aside his tally and begged to serve, remaining in Nanyue as tears of blood stained history."
"Ban Dingyuan, with thirty six riders, galloped across the Western Regions, using barbarians to control barbarians and earning a marquisate across ten thousand li."
"All were the finest heroes of our Han."
For a moment, Liu Bei's heart surged. The bond of shared blood and shared culture buried deep within him made him want to let out a long howl to vent his emotions. Yet he feared disturbing others who were listening intently, and in the end could only force it down.
He also saw his third brother, face flushed crimson, slapping his thigh again and again to release the excitement in his chest.
Ma Chao had already moved far aside, but he too listened with extreme focus.
After all, to the people of the Han, who did not know the names Zhong Jun and Ban Chao?
The drumbeat of the accompaniment was clear, yet it merely kept the rhythm and did not steal the spotlight. As the chorus of young voices rose together, the sound from later generations echoed clearly through Ganlu Hall, drawing curious glances from the eunuchs outside, who kept craning their necks to listen.
This unfamiliar tune sounded simple, yet it was quite pleasant to hear.
[A man should bear perilous deeds with weight,
How could a scholar's cap ruin this life?
When the nation is as fragile as stacked eggs,
Feathered dispatches race without pause.]
The judgment on the scholar's cap made Wei Zheng frown slightly. He immediately spoke up to defend it.
"The sages have said, when the state has the Way, speak boldly and act boldly. When the state lacks the Way, act boldly but speak with restraint."
"A gentleman should indeed value perilous action. How can the scholar's cap be blamed?"
At Wei Zheng's intense reaction, Fang Xuanling smiled and asked calmly.
"Are Han Confucians and Tang Confucians the same?"
Wei Zheng came to his senses at once. Even with only three or four centuries between them, Confucianism had already changed greatly, let alone after a thousand years and the Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing.
The next two lines made Li Shimin sigh, reminding him of Bao Zhao, who died amid the chaos of the Northern and Southern Dynasties.
There was a poem of Bao Zhao's that he had read again and again in his youth, lamenting the man's fate.
Its opening line was "Feathered dispatches rise from frontier pavilions, beacon fires reach Xianyang," vividly capturing the scene of racing war messages.
Thinking of Bao Zhao's eventual death in service to the state, Li Shimin softly recited the poem's ending.
"In times of peril, loyalty is revealed. In an age of chaos, the faithful are known.
To offer one's body to repay a wise lord, to die for the state as a fallen hero."
Listening now to this clear chorus from later generations, it felt much the same. Though the spirit was stirring, he also heard within it a resolve to die rather than yield.
The structure of the verses was also obvious. First recalling the past, then reflecting on the present. What followed must surely be words to swear oaths and rally resolve.
Fortunately, what came next did not disappoint Li Shimin. As the voices rose higher and higher, every word was clear.
[Cast away my former pen, don my wartime robe.
With one cry, comrades number over a hundred thousand.
Sing the battle song and march together.
Cleanse the barbarian dust, swear to sweep away the dwarf bandits, sparing not our lives.]
As the sound paused, Zhang Fei, who had been holding his breath until his face turned red, finally burst out.
"By heaven, that nearly suffocated old Zhang."
Then his second sentence followed immediately.
"To not help later generations sweep away the dwarf bandits and cleanse the barbarian dust is a great regret."
He spoke from the heart. Pang Tong laughed and teased him.
"Did not the later generations win in the end? Why would they need Yide to rescue them?"
Zhang Fei shook his head, serious.
"If I truly could take action, old Zhang would charge first and regret nothing even in death."
"When our descendants are bullied, how can we stand aside?"
These words plunged the general's residence into silence. Pang Tong was the first to nod in admiration again.
"Yide speaks rightly."
"We lack the later generations' power to cross time, but what we can do is sweep the barbarians and expand the borders, leaving our descendants a legacy so they suffer fewer unjust calamities."
This earned unanimous agreement in the hall.
They had already tasted the bitterness of a chaotic age. Yet even this chaos, if carefully divided, was merely internal strife.
The calamity of the dwarf bandits faced by later generations clearly aimed at the annihilation of Huaxia itself.
Such suffering would be hundreds or thousands of times worse than what they had endured over these twenty odd years.
Seated at the head, Liu Bei sighed inwardly, a vision suddenly forming in his heart.
When the chaos was pacified and the world returned to Han, Han cavalry would whip their horses across the northern lands, cowing all barbarians, while Han warriors followed behind, singing this very song.
What a sight that would be.
...
In Ganlu Hall, Li Shimin watched the black and white images flicker across the light screen. Though their exact meaning was unclear, he could still feel the hardship within them.
When the echoes faded, he laughed loudly.
"Our Tang descendants are truly magnificent."
Naturally, no one was foolish enough to stand up and point out the slip in His Majesty's wording.
Du Ruhui, however, began for the first time to seriously contemplate the word "comrades."
Seeing his old friend frowning in thought, Fang Xuanling chuckled softly.
"When a later generation's state faces crisis, those who can hold up a collapsing great hall must share virtue, heart, and purpose. To call each other comrades is entirely fitting."
These two characters were not common in historical records. Du Ruhui also recalled the phrase from the Book of Later Han about six friends who were comrades and refused to serve Wang Mang.
Connecting the two, and recalling how Huaxia then stood beneath the blade of the dwarf bandits, with the Qing collapsing within and foreign powers with ironclad ships and cannon without, Du Ruhui suddenly felt a heavy weight in those simple two words.
[Looking back on our modern history, the Internationale has a lyric that sings it well.
To create human happiness, we rely entirely on ourselves.
Not only modern history, but from ancient times to the present, our history has always been one of struggle and resistance.
Within this history of resistance, besides struggle, resistance, and integration with other peoples, the most important part has always been the resistance of Huaxia's ancestors against climate change.
The most outstanding manifestation is the struggle with the Yellow River, our mother river, truly running through our entire history.
Yu the Great's flood control may be one of the most important chapters of ancient Huaxia culture. The Classic of Mountains and Seas, Records of the Grand Historian, Book of Documents, Mencius, Zhuangzi, and Lüshi Chunqiu all record and annotate this legend.
This story essentially set the main tone for how China has faced natural climate for thousands of years.
Unlike the West, which built great ships and fled at the first sign of trouble, we rolled up our sleeves, united our will, and dealt with it head on.
Qin, Han, and Tang all had policies for Yellow River control and canal construction to develop waterworks. Among them, the most important was the Sui and Tang Grand Canal.
After all, Emperor Yang of Sui essentially wagered the entire Sui dynasty on it. His courage was commendable, and the cost of river control was unparalleled in history.
Although Guangshen's original intention may simply have been to go south of the Yangtze to see gentle beauties, the Grand Canal ultimately made significant contributions to linking north and south, and left later dynasties with a difficult problem.
After Sui and Tang, climate change combined with soil erosion made the Yellow River frequently rage. The histories of the Song and Ming are largely histories of Yellow River management.
As for the Yuan dynasty, its situation needs little elaboration. Its handling of the Yellow River cannot be called indifferent. It can only be said that it completely lay flat. We're doing maritime transport now.
Fortunately, the Ming produced a great hydraulic expert, Pan Jixun, who pioneered the method of building dikes to confine water and use water to attack silt, successfully taming the Yellow River and cleaning up the mess left by Yuan.
What is worth mocking is that the Yuan either lay flat or took Song as a lesson and correctly shifted from canal transport to maritime transport.
Then the Ming, because of maritime bans, shifted it back again.
"A million canal workers' livelihoods depend on it. Abolishing canal transport in favor of maritime transport is absolutely forbidden."
This familiar line from film and television also reveals part of the reason for the Ming's fall.
Speaking of water, in recent years there has been a saying online that also somewhat relates to today's climate theme.
Some believe that the ancient Roman Empire already had tap water. Brilliant.
Ancient China still relied on wells until the Republic, living at heaven's mercy. Truly lying flat.
And here, the uploader must speak a few words for our ancestors.]
In the warm pavilion of Bianjing, Zhao Pu copied down the lyrics sung by later generations and silently read them twice. The more he read, the more he liked them.
He clearly saw within them the remembrance of a strong Han and the call for good families' sons to serve the state.
Yet the final phrase left him puzzled.
"Dwarf bandits?"
He certainly knew of Wa. Tang had interacted with them often, so they were not unfamiliar.
But in all his decades of life, Zhao Pu had never encountered dwarf bandits.
Not only were they written into the lyrics, they were treated with such gravity.
Zhao Kuangyin remained silent, then tilted his head slightly toward Zhao Pu.
"What does Zeping think of canal transport compared to maritime transport?"
Zhao Pu pondered. In the past, maritime transport could only be dismissed as groundless talk. But now, hearing that after Song there was a shift to maritime transport, and that the tone of this voice treated maritime transport as the correct path…
No. Zhao Pu shook his head internally. Those were not the most important matters.
The real issue was the emperor's sudden question.
Though asked privately, Zhao Pu sat between Zhao Guangyi on his left and Zhao Kuangyin on his right.
He could feel that although His Majesty spoke casually, both sides were subtly watching him. He had to give an answer.
Having returned to Bianjing less than two months ago, Zhao Pu felt the pressure. He hesitated repeatedly.
Zhao Guangyi grew a bit impatient.
"Elder brother, the immortals also said, a million…"
Before he could finish, there was a clang. Zhao Kuangyin bent down and picked up the jade axe that had accidentally fallen to the floor.
"A million what?"
Zhao Guangyi immediately fell silent.
Zhao Pu stared at the light screen, not lifting his head.
"This minister believes that Bianjing occupies a vital position. Canal transport must not be halted."
A smile spread across Zhao Guangyi's face, but Zhao Pu was not finished.
"However, in light of later generations' conclusions, maritime transport should also be tried."
The smile faded from Zhao Guangyi's face, then quickly returned as he began praising Zhao Pu again.
...
Li Shimin considered these few lines, then boldly guessed.
"The Yuan capital was likely near the sea."
Only thus could it explain why the Mongol Yuan neglected the Yellow River and instead promoted maritime transport.
After all, looking at the later position of Mongolia, whatever the name, they were still barbarians.
People who bent bows to shoot birds could hardly possess such maritime foresight.
If they were near the sea, yet still in the north and needing southern grain, it became clearer.
Thinking briefly, Li Shimin reached a rough conclusion.
"Either a great coastal city, or a place where rivers meet the sea."
Choosing a location with relatively defensible terrain, a vague guess formed in his mind.
"This Beijing likely enjoys the convenience of three converging sea routes, while also controlling the advantages of Youzhou."
Then thinking of the steadily dropping temperatures of later ages and the wealthy south, Li Shimin could not help another thought.
"To dwell in the bitter cold north while remotely controlling the rich Jianghuai is difficult."