The History of China - #62 - S&N 6: State Of Emergency
Episode Date: April 28, 2015In the mid-5th century, Southern China is at a boiling point. Between the decade reign of Emperor Xiaowu, and the 1-year abomination of his son Liu Ziye, there will be rebellion, murder, torture, and ...incest... so, so much incest. All of leading toward a terminal decline for the Liu Song Dynasty.Period Covered: 453-465 CEImportant Figures:Emperor Xiaowu (Liu Jun)r. 453-464Prince Liu YigongPrince Liu Yixuan of NanjiaoPrince Liu Dan of JinglingCrowned Prince Liu Ziye (Emperor Qianfei) r. 464-465Prince Liu ZiluanDai FaxingHe MaiPrincess Shanyin (Liu Chuyu)Prince Liu Yu of Xiangdong (Emperor Ming) r. 465-472 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Hello, and welcome to the History of China.
Episode 62, State of Emergency.
Before launching straight into the goings-on in China, I'd like to take a moment this week to
pull back and see exactly where we are in the grand sweep of history. We're going to begin today in the year 453, which
is a particularly notable year, not in China, but in that other great ancient empire on
the other end of the Silk Road, Rome. The Roman Empire had been hanging on by a thread,
and for the past decade had been under the continuous assault of the Hunnic Empire by the scourge of God himself, Attila.
Since 441, he had been an existential threat to the Mediterranean Empire, in a nightmare so terrible that 1500 years later, his name can still inspire dread. In 451, he had invaded Gaul, modern France,
and then turned south to invade northern Italy in 452.
From the Roman perspective,
these barbarian Hunnic horse archers
had come seemingly out of nowhere,
and against them there was no effective counter,
even when they'd return a thousand years later.
But of course, we students of Chinese history know pretty much exactly where they come from,
don't we? Attila's advance would only be halted by his untimely death in 453,
and with it, at least for the time being, the Roman Empire would be spared destruction.
The Western Roman Empire's time will come soon enough.
But for now, let's get back to the goings-on of Liu Song, China.
When last we left the Liu Song dynasty in southern China,
its patricidal and short-lived Liu Shao, a.k.a. Emperor Prime Murderer, had just been on the losing end of a rebellion. That revolt had been led by Shao's own younger brother, Liu Jun, the Prince of Wuling,
who had been understandably incensed that his brother had killed his dad, especially since
all he really needed to do in order to inherit the throne rightfully was to just, you know, wait it out. Instead, Liu Xiao and another brother had first unsuccessfully tried cursing their father
to death with the help of a witch, and when that failed, just a good old-fashioned knife between
the ribs. But what was done was done, and there was nothing for Prince Jin to do but take his
elder brother down in 453,
overthrowing his illegal regime and declaring himself the rightful emperor,
following Xiao's execution within the imperial palace of Nanjing.
Though like all Chinese emperors, he was never known by his regnal name in life.
As usual, it's both far easier to simply call him that,
and also gives us an insight into the way he and his reign are remembered.
So, for the remainder of his hour to strut and fret upon the stage, we'll be calling him Emperor Xiaowu, meaning the filial and martial emperor of Liu Song.
He is remembered as being especially filial, since his reign only really came about through avenging his father's murder, and that by comparison to his predecessor, he looked positively saintly in
terms of obeying and respecting his parents. As for the martial part, he would earn that
stripe as well, though unlike many of the other wus of this series, Xiaowu's wars would be primarily
directed inwards against
internal foes instead of, as I'm sure he would have greatly preferred, external conquests.
In spite of the devotion he displayed towards his father, Xiao Wu quickly raised eyebrows
and alarm by showing affection towards his other family members of a very different sort.
One of Xiao Wu's chief backers had been his uncle,
the Prince of Nanjiao, whose personal name was Liu Yixuan, but that won't be on the test.
Anyway, Nanjiao had several daughters, many of whom lived in the capital city.
And wouldn't you know it, Emperor Xiao Wu systematically engaged in incest with them all. So, okay, not off to a
wonderful start in terms of love life, but on its own, this probably would not have been a deal
breaker. This was largely because the Prince of Nanjiao had an even larger goal in mind.
He, along with Xiao's other major backer, the governor of Yong province,
had expected that as a reward for essentially winning the throne for him, Xiao Wu would grant
them more or less carte blanche authority within their respective territories. Compared with
absolute authority within one's own province, something like cousin-loving, could be overlooked. That is, if Xiao had bothered to grant them the expected level of autonomy, which he,
of course, would not, instead he would repeatedly intercede, or from their perspective, interfere,
with their internal affairs, and question their actions and decisions, all as a part
of his larger efforts to consolidate the authority of the state in his person.
And that simply would not do.
The prince and the governor, therefore, planned to rebel once more.
But they would need help.
So they sent a missive to the governor of Yu province,
whom they thought would be sympathetic to their cause,
inviting him to
join their uprising when it was to be launched the following autumn. The message arrived without
incident, and was delivered to the governor of Yu unaltered and in its entirety. And indeed,
he was more than willing to join his friends in rising up against the imperial throne.
But the governor, a notorious drunkard, either misread or misunderstood the note in his
alcohol-induced stupor, and thought that, far from waiting until the fall to rebel,
it was all to be launched immediately. And so he did, proclaiming the Prince of Nanjiao the
true emperor of Liu Song and mobilizing his personal army against the capital.
But though he had hilariously mucked up the launch date, the Prince of Yu wouldn't be
sticking his neck out alone for long.
He would very shortly be backed by the governor of Yan province, and once news of the false
start found its way back to the initial plotters, both just decided to roll with it and declared
rebellion against the throne as well,
although the two of them would stop short of actually declaring Xiaowu's uncle the emperor,
as though that was going to save them.
When the news of the four provinces simultaneously rising against him reached the emperor,
he was understandably taken aback,
and even more so since the governor of Yu was among the rebels,
as he was considered a virtually peerless warrior and commander.
Emperor Xiaowu, suddenly thrown into doubt,
briefly entertained the idea of simply offering the throne to his uncle,
the Prince of Nandiao, outright.
But one of his brothers quickly put the kibosh on that,
explaining to the emperor that no,
you don't simply throw your hands in the air and surrender every time a rebellion bubbles up.
Soon enough, the majority of Liu Song's provinces declared for the emperor and began mobilizing
their own levies against the rebellious regions. Yan province, relatively isolated as it was,
was the first target, and it was invaded by the armies of the neighboring Ji province, relatively isolated as it was, was the first target, and it was invaded by the armies of
the neighboring Ji province, who quickly captured the provincial capital and forced the rebellious
governor to flee to Yu. The governor of Yu was himself making final preparations to march against
Nanjing itself, and his army set out soon thereafter. But among his weapons and soldiers, the Yu governor had brought along
yet another essential supply, as much of his personal liquor stash as he could carry.
What good was a war, after all, if you couldn't get hammered while conducting it?
And surprise! That would turn out to be a fateful decision indeed. When the rebel Yu army
encountered the loyalist forces commanded by
General Shui-an Du, the two sides met in battle, with the governor of Yu somewhere between plastered
and blackout drunk. In the melee, the governor was thrown from, or perhaps simply fell from,
his horse and was killed, taking with him to his grave both his fearsome battle reputation and the majority of the rebels' morale.
The anti-Xiaowu rebellion was barely out of the starting gate,
and it was already down to two of its original four provinces.
Well, now, this could certainly be going better.
But it would, in fact, just get worse for the remaining rebel commanders.
As it turned out, the Prince of Nanjiao had some pretty major trust issues with the governor of Yong,
which you'd think they'd have wanted to address before going to war together against the throne,
but hey, what do I know.
The governor of Yong wanted to attack the capital city directly,
but owing to that whole lack of trust thing,
Prince Nanjiao rejected the strategy and instead opted to engage the imperial army around Mount Liang and the neighboring
city of the same name. Nanjiao's army struck at the imperial garrison, but was rebuffed,
and after suffering a string of defeats, his army collapsed and the prince was forced to flee.
The governor of Yong's efforts against the capital proved no better,
and he too was forced to flee when his army was defeated. Over the course of his retreat,
he'd be captured and killed, a fate the prince of Nanjiao would also share shortly thereafter,
putting an end to their short-lived attempt at the throne.
On its own, this little rebellion seems hardly worth mentioning.
Four guys make an ill-thought-out ad hoc attempt and are almost immediately undone by their
own character weakness, all while Yakety Sax plays in the background.
But it was Emperor Xiaoyu's reaction to this event that would prove far more significant
for Liu Song, rather than the rebellion itself. It a. made him far more suspicious of his family members, which we'll get to more in a minute,
but b. it also caused him to steeply cut the autonomous powers of his provinces,
and even go so far as to reorganize large parts of his empire altogether,
most notably shrinking all of his provinces in size,
and then using the freed up space to create an entirely new province,
Eastern Yang.
Apart from being variously disposed to either sleep with or kill the members of his family,
while stripping them all of much of their powers,
how was Xiaowu as a ruler?
Not exactly wonderful, but rather effective, as it so happens.
A passage from the Zizhi Tongjian gives us Sima Guang's impression on the latter half of Xiaowu's reign,
as well as evidence of the monarch's prodigious tolerance for drink.
Quote,
Late in his reign, Emperor Xiaowu was particularly greedy.
Whenever provincial or prefectural governors left their post and
returned to the capital, the emperor ordered them to submit sufficient amounts of tributes,
and then gambled with them, without ceasing until he would win over their wealths.
He was often drunk every day and was rarely sober, but his reactions were quick. He often slept in
stupor on his desk, but if there were emergency submissions from the
officials, he could wake himself quickly and be alerted without sign of intoxication.
Therefore, his officials were all fearful of him and did not dare be idle. End quote.
So, a raging alcoholic who swears he's totally not drunk while making pivotal state decisions,
and who frequently uses the imperial bankroll to gamble with his officials,
from the sounds of it, whether they wanted to or not,
until he'd won much of their fortunes.
All while probably smirking and saying,
the house always wins.
But back to his growing, and justifiable, distrust of his family members.
The following year, 455, the emperor's brother, the 16-year-old Prince of Wuchang,
did what 16-year-olds so often do. He played a practical joke on his big brother.
So he jokingly declared himself the Prince of Chu and jokingly changed the Imperial era name,
which is, I'm sure you will agree, completely hilarious.
But when word reached Xiaowu of his brothers jokingly usurping the throne,
wouldn't you know it, he somehow didn't get the punchline, whatever that was.
Over Wuchang's protestations of what was just a prank, Xiaowu stripped the
teenager of all his titles, rendered him a commeter, and then ordered him to commit suicide,
and so ended the worst episode of Candid Camera ever.
Following this fratricide, Xiaowu systematically suppressed the power of his other brothers,
and greatly expanded a network of watchdogs and spies on both the princes and the provincial governors. These agents, officially
titled Imperial Communication Officers, would dramatically expand over the course of Xiaowu's
reign. Of course, some of Xiaowu's brothers didn't take this affront to their powers lying down.
One in particular, Liu Dan, the prince of Jingling, spent the period between 455 and 459 amassing a large number of warriors in his seat of power, southern Yan province.
This in turn sparked fears in the emperor that he was plotting a rebellion, and in response he
ordered the construction of numerous checkpoints between southern Yan and the capital city. The arms race was on.
In response to Xiaowu's own escalation, Prince Liudan ordered numerous defenses constructed
around his capital city, Guangling, and dug in. And for the record, Guangling is known today as
Yanzhou, and lies to the northeast of
Nanjing, on the northern bank of the Yangtze River. Rumors began swirling across Liu Song
that a conflict between the prince and the emperor was inevitable. And the only real speculation
was which brother would strike first, Liu Dan or Xiao Wu. In the as-yet-undeclared war between imperial brothers,
Xiao Wu, of course, held a decisive advantage, the force of law behind him. Thus, in 459,
he struck the first blow, not with a sword, but with his imperial seal.
Citing several reports of the Prince of Jingling's alleged crimes, which appeared to have originated
from the Emperor himself, the Emperor officially demoted the Prince to mere
marquis, and simultaneously dispatched two of his generals at the head of a column of
troops to seize Guangming City in a surprise attack.
Owing to the defenses in place and Liudan's agents watching
the movements of Nanjing like a hawk, the element of surprise was a non-factor. The Prince of Jingling
counterattacked the imperial column, easily overpowering the force and killing its commander.
Following up this military victory, Liudan made it obvious that two could play at the character
assassination game, especially when one had as many skeletons in his closet as Emperor Xiaowu. Up until now,
Xiaowu's incestuous relationships with his cousins had been a rather open secret within
the upper echelons of power, but had been pretty much unknown among the greater populace.
Liudan, however, publicized the alarming, morally outrageous allegations against the
emperor, even including the charge that he'd been sleeping with his own mother, the Empress
Dowager, a charge which was never actually refuted, and which at least some historians
consider plausible.
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Infuriated at being called quite literally a mother-lover, Xiao managed to stoop even lower
by rounding up the extended families of all of Leodan's associates,
even those who had nothing to do with the Prince of Jingling's rebellion,
and having them all executed.
In fact, several of the associates in question had been en route back to the capital,
having abandoned Leodan once hostilities had
broken out, only to arrive and find their families already dead. Welcome home, indeed.
Back at Guangling, Prince Liodan was looking for an out. In fact, he had been eyeing an escape plan
that would have seen him defect to Northern Wei, but that was rendered moot once Emperor Xiaowu's
General Shen cut off the northern
path and laid siege to the prince's capital. After a brief dalliance with abandoning the city and
fleeing, Liudan opted instead to stay and defend his charge. This, however, would prove ill-advised,
since in spite of the defensive fortifications he'd set up, General Shen was able to quickly overcome them
and take Guangling in the name of the emperor. Prince Liudan was dispatched in short order,
and then, seemingly just to show how brutal he could be, Xiaowu ordered virtually the whole
population of Guangling to be put to the sword as well, with what our sources describe as vaguely but tellingly inhuman methods.
Fortunately for the population of Liu Song, but rather unfortunately for us,
the remainder of Emperor Xiaowu's reign passed uneventfully.
Peace, general prosperity, and him sleeping with virtually every female family member he could get his hands on marked the remaining five years in power.
Xiao Wu would die in 464, at the age of 33 or 34, to be succeeded by his teenaged heir,
Liu Ziyue.
Prince Ziyue had been born in 449, making him around 13 at the time of his accession.
He had been in the capital during his father's ultimately successful rebellion against his uncle Liu Shao,
and as such had even as a very small child
been imprisoned and slated for possible execution,
though obviously that had not come to pass.
Once Ziyue's father had secured himself on the throne of Liu Song,
he promoted his eldest brother to crown prince in 454.
And in 456, the then seven-year-old heir was married to one of the emperor's chief officials'
daughters.
That marriage would be short-lived, though, since the newly crowned princess would die
in 461.
Liu Zeyu's tenure as heir to the throne was tumultuous at best. He rapidly came to harbor a
deep resentment for his father, who frequently belittled, scolded, and insulted the boy for the
mistake he made. The crown prince's ire was also reserved for his younger brother, Prince Ziluan,
second in line for the throne, and clearly their father's preferred candidate, given that he repeatedly and loudly pondered replacing Ziyue with Ziluan altogether.
So it can't really be all that surprising that upon learning of his father's death
in 464, Ziyue was notably unfazed and was said to show no hint of mourning or sadness
at the emperor's passing.
When he was officially offered the throne of Liu Song, he purportedly took it with a
careless and flippant attitude, prompting remarks from the court officials that they
had a bad feeling about this.
Upon taking the throne, he decided that death wasn't nearly enough for the father he'd
grown to despise.
His punishment must be more severe. So he ordered an immediate halt to
the legal changes Xiao Wu had enacted over the course of his reign. He then commissioned a
series of portraits commemorating the Song Emperor's past, and when viewing the completed
works, commented that his great-grandfather, Emperor Wu, was, quote, a great hero who captured
several emperors, and his father Emperor Wen was also
pretty good, and it was unfortunate that he had lost his head to his son. Of his own father,
though, he scoffed and stated, quote, he had such a big nose from over-drinking. Where is it?
He then ordered that Xiao Wu's nose be highly exaggerated.
And although I looked for a print of Xiao Wu's exaggerated portrait to post online,
I came away sadly empty-handed.
Emperor Ziyue is an infamous emperor in Chinese history. Sure, his dad liked to get it on with family, but at least, other than that whole incest thing, he was a fairly
proficient administrator. But Ziyue was something else entirely, and during his very, very brief
stint on the throne of Liu Song, he's going to make his dad look positively glowing by comparison.
And the crazy train departs just about as soon as he gets into office.
That autumn, his mother, the Empress Dowager, became quite seriously ill.
She therefore requested that her son come and visit her.
But Ziye, displaying a bizarre degree of superstition, even for the 5th century, refused, stating,
quote, People's rooms are infested with ghosts. It's too terrible. How could one even think of going
near such a place? End quote. For her part, the Empress was furious at this rejection and exclaimed,
although it should be noted hyperbolically, quote, Someone quickly fetch me a knife.
I wish to cut open my own stomach and see how it could have produced such a horrid child."
Soon thereafter, she did die, although I should point out it was from her sickness, not from
any self-inflicted knife wound.
But it was in 465 that Emperor Ziya's crazy train really picked up steam.
It's probably impossible to truly determine how much of the perverse
charges leveled against him were fabricated out of whole cloth by historians centuries later,
seeking to turn him into as evil a figure as possible, and how much of it might have been
grounded in fact. He was, after all, only 13 or 14, and the list of sexual deviants read off
against him would
have been impressive for the most hedonistic of fifty-year-olds with decades to spend on
their every desire, not Thiers' one year and change.
Still, in the interest of completeness, he has variously been charged with incest with
his own sisters, aunts, and cousins, massive orgies, and even bestiality. Probably the most
infamous tale, though, is concerning his sister, the Princess Sanyin, whom he had allegedly bedded.
She complained to him at one point that though he, the emperor, was allowed to have hundreds or even
thousands of concubines at his disposal, as a, she was permitted only one husband. The story goes that, moved by
her complaints against such inequality, they permitted her to choose some 35 male concubines
of her own. But again, take that with a healthy serving of salt.
Probably somewhat less in doubt is the body count he would manage to rack up as emperor.
From his time taking office through 465,
the emperor's more impulsive and rash decisions had been repeatedly curved or headed off by one of his chief advisors,
Dai Fa Xing, as well as his granduncle, Prince Liu Yigong.
And all with the best intentions. Time and again, Dai and Liu had warned and explained to the Emperor why they were countermanding his nutball orders, stating that
repeated displays of incompetence in office had led to the overthrow and death of his grand-uncle,
Emperor Xiao, only some twelve years prior. For this wise guidance, Emperor Ziye ordered Dai to commit suicide in the fall of 465
and relieved another top-level official of his command. Shocked at this unjustifiable cruelty,
two other top-tier court officials made plans to overthrow the little tyrant at once. But,
word leaked, as it always does, before they could strike, and the vengeful Ziye struck
first.
Less than two weeks after ordering Dai's suicide, the Emperor personally led a contingent
of imperial guards to the conspirators' private residences, where he saw them and
their families brutally murdered.
But it was his granduncle, Liu Yigong, who would suffer the worst fate of them all.
For his part in the plot, he too would witness his family exterminated before his own eyes,
all before having his own arms and legs hacked off, be disemboweled alive,
and then have his eyes plucked out and preserved in honey,
something Emperor Zeyi termed
yanggui de yanjing, or Pickled Ghost Eyes.
The familial purgings would continue unabated through 465.
Supposedly, he longed for the opportunity to declare a state of emergency,
and saw his chance when one of his uncles, the prince of Yiyang,
sent word that he'd be making his way for the capital,
and requested permission to enter and pay his respects once he got there.
Not seeing the state of emergency yet? Well, don't worry. Emperor Ziyie is about to construct
one out of whole cloth. Request to visit the capital in hand. Emperor Ziyie somehow spun it
into an accusation of the Prince of Yiyang plotting a rebellion and marching on the capital by force.
He was able to declare his state of emergency, and knowing he couldn't possibly resist the might of Nanjing,
certainly not with the paltry honor guard he'd been assembled to make a peaceful journey with,
the Prince of Yiyang was forced to turn right around and
flee to Northern Wei entirely. As winter approached, Emperor Wei just kept racking up his body count.
In order to keep a particularly beautiful aunt all to himself, he ordered a lady-in-waiting beheaded
and her body then sent to his uncle-in-law's residence, a man named Hamai. With the headless corpse came notification that the poor fellow's wife had died suddenly
due to an acute lack of a head.
But Hamai knew his wife, and furthermore, knew that whoever this body belonged to,
it certainly wasn't her.
He wasn't fooled for a minute, and realized the truth of the matter.
But knowledge of the Emperor canoodling with his wife wasn't nearly enough to save poor He Mai.
As he planned a way to overthrow Liu Zeyi and rescue his wife, word, as always, leaked,
and Zeyi swiftly descended on the residents to personally finish off the plotter He.
When one of his most senior and loyal generals objected to the outcome, the emperor had him poisoned.
Shortly thereafter, he ordered his remaining uncles rounded up and imprisoned in cages
built to hold pigs.
There, he kept them for an indeterminate period of time, beating them, taunting them, and
treating them in an inhuman
manner. To one of his uncles he gave the moniker the Prince of Pigs, to another the Prince of
Murderers, another the Prince of Thieves, and yet another, one whom the young emperor particularly
despised and thought an idiot, he named the Prince of Asses. Near daily, the by now completely insane emperor would haul out the uncle he deemed the Prince
of Pigs from his cage, all trussed up like an animal for slaughter.
He would then announce that it was pig-killing day, and time and again was only convinced
not to butcher his own uncle through the flattery of his other captives.
Eventually, however, the emperor grew bored of his macabre game
and left a lot of his uncles to rot in their pig cages while he found new subjects to torment.
These he found just as his sexual appetites and perversions hit their crescendo.
He ordered the entire bulk of the imperial princesses,
again, his own family members, young and old
alike, to report to his palace, then remove their clothes and lie down before him.
He then commanded his attendants and court officials present to have their way with them
while he watched.
When several protested, princess and attendant alike, they were immediately put to death.
The remainder of what can only be termed a mass rape was conducted without further protest.
But here, going by the classical histories, is where the supernatural finally had had enough of Leosier's unspeakable behavior. That very night, he jumped with a veiled and shadowy female figure,
cursing him, and saying, Your violence and immorality are such that you shall never live to see your next wheat harvest.
When he awoke, thoroughly shaken by the nocturnal apparition,
and you'll surely recall that he was absolutely terrified of ghosts, after all,
he happened upon a lady-in-waiting who, at least in his estimation,
greatly resembled the dream phantasm, and had her beheaded at once.
But the following night, his haunted dreams returned.
This time, not by the veiled figure, but by the dead girl herself,
head in hand, cursing him and damning his soul.
Terrified, Zeyi arranged with his ministers a ceremony for the following night to banish any and all vengeful spirits that surely swirled around
him. That night, the ceremonial exorcism commenced, but there was more than spiritualism to be
discussed as the ritual went on. Among those in attendance was a cabal of court officials who had actually managed
to keep their plans a secret long enough to set them into motion. As the emperor knelt deep in
ceremonial trance to banish his well-deserved demons, they surrounded him and struck. He tried
to flee, but was captured and killed that winter of 465, ending his reign of terror little more
than a year after it had begun. So what are we to make of such a tale?
I've hinted at it several times by now, but I'm not terribly convinced that huge chunks of this
classical history are anything more than fiction. It reads like something out of a paperback one might have
picked up at the airport, an unbelievable cascade of just about the worst possible
everything imaginable, and all compressed into this insanely short time period, less than a year.
Moreover, the fact that the tale then delves seamlessly into dream sequences, supernatural
portents, and it all seems to just wrap itself up so very neatly, it is just difficult to swallow.
In all likelihood, Liu Zeyi was a terrible emperor,
very probably a cruel and incestuous one as well.
Certainly, the latter charge is evidenced enough with his own father,
and the former any number of previous Chinese emperors before him.
His regular name is fair evidence in itself, and I haven't mentioned it yet because I didn't want
to spoil the story from the outset, but it's rather strange regardless. His posthumous name
is Emperor Qianfei, meaning the former deposed, or somewhat more clearly, the earlier deposed emperor of Liossum.
Yes, there will be another.
His one legacy is that he was ignominiously overthrown after less than a year.
Certainly something pretty terrible must have been taking place.
But on the other hand, it's worth keeping in mind that this wasn't some 30-something mastermind.
He was a 13-year-old, one so afraid of things that go bump in the night
that he was too afraid to visit his dying mother.
ZA ultimately does not strike me, personally,
as some evil mastermind capable of doing all the crazy things he's accused of
without anyone bothering to slap him on the bottom and send him to bed
with no supper. But this is one of the problems we will forever have to deal with when interacting
and trying to interpret ancient, fragmented, and chronologically removed, and most importantly,
hugely biased source materials. We simply don't know what information was withheld, destroyed, or simply lost.
In the words of Donald Rumsfeld,
we'll forever be enslaved by the unknown unknowns of different facets of ancient history.
All we have to go on are the official texts,
that were typically written centuries or millennia afterwards,
and frequently by political enemies
of the dynasty it's writing about. Given all that, we have to take such histories,
and especially the lurid tales such as Liu Ziyue's frenetic Year of Awfulness,
with an appropriate amount of skepticism.
Next time, Liu Ziyue's uncle, Prince Liu Yu, will succeed his assassinated nephew as
the monarch of Song, Emperor Ming.
But soon enough, he too will devolve into cruelty, paranoia, and capricious violence,
all of which hastening the decline of the once glorious southern state.
Liu Song is headed for a fall, that's to be sure.
But when, where,
and how hard that fall will be remains to be seen.
In the next episode, we'll ride it down to the
bitter end.
Thank you for listening.
Special thanks go out to Mark F.,
who has decided this week to support THOC through Patreon.
You too can become a member of our inner court by going to www.patreon.com slash thehistoryofchina
and pledging a per-episode contribution of a dollar, or by visiting us at our home base, thehistoryofchina.wordpress.com.
Once again, to Mark, and to all of our generous patrons, thank you very, very much.
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