Comprehensive Reflections to Aid in Governance
By Sima Guang
Translated By Yiming Yang
Annals of Han Book 9 Scroll 17 (continued)
The 6th year of the Emperor Wu’s Jianyuan Era (135 B.C. continued)
At that time, the Han forces had already set forth on their southern campaign, though they had yet to cross the mountain passes. The King of Minyue, Zōu Yīng, mustered his troops to resist. But his younger brother, Zōu Yǔshān, secretly plotted with his kinsmen and ministers: “The king raised arms against Nanyue without first petitioning the Son of Heaven; for this offense the Han army now comes to chastise us. Their forces are vast and mighty. Should we by chance repel them, they will only return in greater numbers, and our state shall be utterly destroyed. Now, if we slay the king to placate the Han emperor, and he accepts our submission, the army may withdraw and our state be preserved. But if he refuses, then we shall fight to the last. And if defeat befalls us, we shall flee across the seas.”
All present assented to this counsel. Thereupon, they took up a short spear and slew the king. They then dispatched an envoy bearing his severed head to the Grand Herald, Wáng Huī.
When Grand Herald Wáng Huī received the severed head of the King of Minyue, he said, “Our expedition was undertaken to punish the king. Now that his head has been delivered, our purpose is fulfilled without bloodshed—this is the most fortunate outcome.” Thereupon, Wáng Huī notified the forces under the Minister of Agriculture, Hán Ānguó, and dispatched an envoy to the capital, bearing the head of Zōu Yīng to report to the Son of Heaven.
The Emperor issued a decree recalling both generals and their armies, saying, “The principal offender, Zōu Yīng, is no more. Of his kin, only the Lord Yáo, Zōu Chóu, grandson of King Wǔzhū, took no part in the conspiracy.” He then dispatched a General of the Household as his envoy to appoint Zōu Chóu as King Yáo, thus continuing the ancestral rites of Minyue.
Meanwhile, Zōu Yǔshān, having slain Zōu Yīng, seized command of Minyue and won the support of the people. He proclaimed himself King of Minyue. The Emperor judged it unnecessary to mount another campaign, and declared: “Though Zōu Yǔshān conspired with Zōu Yīng in rebellion, he later slew the traitor and thereby spared the army from battle.” In recognition, the Emperor enfeoffed Zōu Yǔshān as King of East Yuè, allowing him to reign alongside Zōu Chóu, King Yáo of Minyue.
The Son of Heaven dispatched Zhuāng Zhū to convey his will to the King of Nanyue, Zhào Hu. The king received the envoy with deference, prostrating himself and declaring, “The Emperor has raised troops to chastise Minyue; I shall devote my life to repay this favor and virtue!” He thereupon sent his crown prince to serve in the palace guard and said to Zhuāng Zhū, “Our state has only just emerged from the turmoil of invasion. The envoy is prepared, and Zhào Hu makes daily preparations to journey north to pay homage at court.”
Zhuāng Zhū took his leave. On his return, he passed through Huáinán, whereupon the Emperor again dispatched him to present the circumstances of the Minyue campaign to the Prince of Huáinán, Liú Ān, and to commend his earlier counsel. Liú Ān respectfully received the imperial message, giving thanks and confessing that his advice had been inferior to the Emperor’s judgment.
After Zhuāng Zhū departed from Nanyue, the ministers of the southern court said to their king, “The Han raised arms to punish Zōu Yīng, and the reverberations have reached even our borders. Formerly, the late king often said, ‘When serving the Son of Heaven, it is sufficient to maintain proper rites and decorum.’ More than this is unwise. Be not beguiled by the pleasing words of envoys—for if you go to court, you may never return, and our state could be lost.”
Thereafter, King Zhào Hu claimed illness and never proceeded to an audience with the Emperor.
That same year, Hán Ānguó was appointed Grand Master of the Censorate.
Ji An of Pǔyáng, formerly Commandant of Dōnghǎi Commandery, was appointed as Commandant for the management of the nobility registers. In his early service, Ji An held the post of internuncio. Known for his stern disposition and uncompromising conduct, he was feared by his peers.
When strife erupted among the Eastern Yuè tribes, the Emperor dispatched Ji An to investigate. Yet Ji An returned from Wú Commandery without reaching his destination, saying, “The internecine conflict of the Yuè reflects their native customs. It is unworthy of tainting the Emperor’s authority.”
Later, a great fire broke out in Hénán, destroying over a thousand dwellings. The Emperor again sent Ji An to inquire into the matter. Upon his return, he reported, “It was but an ordinary fire, spreading from a single household to several others—not cause for alarm. However, while passing through Hénán, I observed tens of thousands afflicted by flood and drought. In desperation, some parents had turned to cannibalism. I therefore took it upon myself to open the state granaries and distribute grain to relieve their suffering. I now return the authority to Your Majesty and stand ready to receive punishment for acting in your stead.”
The Emperor commended Ji An’s compassion and absolved him of any fault.
During his administration in Dōnghǎi commandery, Ji An governed with restraint and simplicity, favoring the Taoism of non-intervention over rigid legalism. He appointed worthy subordinates, entrusted them with full responsibilities, and did not burden the administration with trifling matters, attending only to what was essential.
However, Ji An was blunt in speech and lacking in courtesy, intolerant of others’ failings and often causing embarrassment in public discourse. When the Emperor once summoned scholars and men of talent to court, he expressed a desire to initiate new policies, saying, “I wish to do such and such.” Ji An replied, “Your Majesty conceals ambition beneath a guise of benevolence and virtue. Why don’t you really learn to govern like the ancient sages Yáo and Shùn?”
At this, the Emperor fell silent and departed the court in anger, leaving ministers and courtiers in dread.
Later, the Emperor spoke with his attendants, saying, “Ji An is obstinate beyond reason and wholly lacking in tact!”
When some courtiers rebuked Ji An for his words, he replied, “The Emperor appoints ministers to serve as remonstrators. If they merely flatter his desires, how will the realm be justly ruled? I hold this office not to preserve myself, but to uphold righteousness. If I remain silent out of fear, would that not dishonor the court?”
Ji An, long afflicted by illness, had taken extended leave from office, exceeding three months. The Emperor, mindful of his service, repeatedly prolonged his furlough, yet Ji An’s condition showed no improvement. In the end, as his final illness took hold, Zhuāng Zhù requested leave on Ji An’s behalf.
The Emperor inquired, “What manner of man is Ji An of Pǔyáng?”
Zhuāng Zhù replied, “When in office, Ji An does not exceed his station with ostentation. But if entrusted with the guardianship of a young sovereign, or withholding a besieged city, he will neither be swayed by enticement nor retreat at dismissal. In such matters, not even gallants like Mèng Bēn or Xià Yu could overcome him.”
The Emperor sighed and said, “Indeed, the ancients had loyal ministers, and Ji An approaches their measure.”
At that time, the Xiōngnú came forth with a request for peace through heqin—marriage alliance. The Emperor, weighing the matter, summoned counsels. The Grand Herald Wáng Huī, hailed from Yān, versed in frontier affairs, opposed the proposal, “In past times, the Han court entered into marriage pacts with the Xiōngnú, yet not long after, they betrayed the covenant and resumed their raids. Their pledges are hollow; it is better to gird our defenses and prepare for war.”
On the other hand, Hán Ānguó urged acceptance of the proposal: “The Xiōngnú are a nomadic people, fleet as birds in migration, and long unbound by any sovereign’s yoke. Should we send troops across a thousand li in contest for gain, the cost in men and horses would be ruinous. In such terrain, the Xiōngnú possess mastery. This is a perilous road. It is better to pacify them by alliance and avoid entanglement in a distant war.”
The court was divided in counsel, yet a majority inclined toward Han Ānguó’s view. Thus, the Son of Heaven consented to the treaty and accepted the peace by marriage.
The 1st year of the Emperor Wu’s Yuan’guang Era (134 B.C.)
In November of winter, an edict was proclaimed, directing each commandery and principality to put forth one candidate as exemplar of Filial Piety and Incorruptibility, in accordance with the counsel of Dong Zhongshu.
Li Guang, Commandant of the Court Guard, was appointed General of Agile Cavalry and posted to Yunzhong. Cheng Bushi, Commandant of the Capital Guard, was made General of Chariots and Cavalry and dispatched to Yanmen. In June, both were relieved of command.
Li Guang and Cheng Bushi had gained renown during their tenures as prefects of border commanderies. Li Guang commanded his troops without rigid formation. The army encamped where water and pasture were abundant. Each man was left to attend to his own needs. No sentries patrolled the perimeter by night, and official registers were kept in simple form. Yet scouts were dispatched without fail, and the camp was never taken by surprise.
Cheng Bushi, by contrast, upheld the formalities of military order. His troops drilled by formation; records were kept with precision. Camps were set with strict guard, and sentinels made their rounds through the night. Officers and soldiers were meticulously documented; the army seldom knew rest. Yet his ranks, too, were never assailed.
Cheng Bushi remarked, “Li Guang’s troops are light and unencumbered. The Xiongnu dare to trespass but find no means to strike. His soldiers rejoice in their freedom and are ready to die for him. My army is bound by order and appears burdened, yet the Xiongnu do not dare test us.”
Indeed, the Xiongnu feared Li Guang’s unorthodox methods. Yet the soldiers of Cheng Bushi were less enthusiastic in their service.
Sima Guang’s Commentary: The Book of Changes states: “The army must go forth under strict discipline; without it, there is no auspicious outcome.” This teaches that the management of multitudes without observance of disciplines leads inevitably to disorder.
Li Guang’s manner of command—permitting each man to act at his own discretion—may have suited a man of singular talent. Yet such a method cannot be set forth as a general model. Why so? Because it is rare to find one of equal caliber to succeed him, and still rarer to find many generals alike in virtue and capability.
The disposition of the common man is to pursue ease and disregard hidden danger. Freed from the rigor of Cheng Bushi’s governance, they would readily take joy in Li Guang’s leniency. But such liberty also breeds resentment and disobedience. When indulgence reigns, disorder follows. Thus, the peril of a lax and simple system lies not only in the diminished vigilance of Li Guang’s troops, but also in deeper unrest.
It is said: “Military affairs require strictness to the end.” Those who take command must be resolute and unwavering. To emulate Cheng Bushi may yield no immediate glory, yet it is less prone to ruin. To adopt the ways of Li Guang may seem effective, but more often ends in misfortune.
In April of summer, a general amnesty was proclaimed across the empire.
In May, an imperial edict ordered the commanderies and principalities to recommend men of worth and erudition. These the Son of Heaven would examine in person.
On July 29 in autumn, there was a solar eclipse.
Reflection by Rio Grande 
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