Comprehensive Reflections to Aid in Governance
By Sima Guang
Translated By Yiming Yang
Annals of Han Book 10 Scroll 18 (continued)

The 3rd year of Emperor Wu’s Yuan’guang Era (132 B.C.)
In the spring, the Yellow River altered its course, flowing southeastward from Dunqiu County.
In May of summer, the swollen river again burst its dikes near Huzi Dam in Puyang, pouring into Juye. The waters joined the Huai and Si rivers, inundating sixteen commanderies. The Emperor dispatched Ji An and Zheng Dangshi drafting one hundred thousand corvees to seal the breach, yet their labors proved fruitless. The surging waters swiftly swept away the embankments they had raised.
At that time, Tian Fen, whose fief lay in Shu County to the north of the river and who had been spared the flood and reaped abundant harvests, memorialized the throne. He declared that to obstruct the Yellow River by human means was in vain. The meandering of the Yangtze and the Yellow River, he said, followed the workings of nature and could not be restrained by mortal hands. He further contended that such resistance might stand contrary to the will of Heaven.
Tian Fen’s words found favor among those who observed the movements of Heaven and Earth. Thus it was that the Emperor, heeding their counsel, suspended the works to dam the river for many years.
In the reign of Emperor Jing, Dou Ying, Marquis of Weiqi, served as Grand General. At that time, Tian Fen, Marquis of Wu’an, held the humble post of attendant-in-waiting, ever pouring wine before Dou Ying, rising and kneeling without ceasing, bearing himself as though he were a son or nephew in service.
As years passed, Tian Fen’s power waxed. He ascended to the Chancellorship, while Dou Ying’s prestige declined and his favor with the court diminished. His retainers scattered, and only Guan Fu of Yingyin, former prime minister of Yan, remained by his side. Dou Ying held Guan Fu in high esteem and treated him as a father would a son.
Guan Fu was upright in disposition, forthright in speech, and lacking in restraint when drinking. He would often provoke those of higher station, quarreling with them in his cups. On several occasions, he came into conflict with Chancellor Tian Fen, and discord grew between them. In time, Tian Fen memorialized the Emperor, saying: “Guan Fu and his kin harass the common people; the residents of Yingchuan suffer grievously at their hands.”
Guan Fu and his kin were seized and sentenced to public execution. Dou Ying, Marquis of Weiqi, submitted a memorial in his defense. The Emperor commanded both the Marquis of Weiqi and the Marquis of Wu’an to present their arguments before the East Court, where the Empress Dowager presided. Yet rather than plead their cases, the two marquises used the occasion to level accusations against one another.
The Emperor then summoned his ministers and inquired who among the two was in the right. Of them, only Ji An stood in support of the Marquis of Weiqi. Han Anguo declared that both parties were justified. Zheng Dangshi at first inclined toward the Marquis of Weiqi, but dared not hold onto his view. The Emperor, displeased by Zheng Dangshi’s evasiveness, declared, “Men like you deserve execution.”
Thereafter, the Emperor withdrew to the inner palace and dined with the Empress Dowager. Stricken with anger, she would not eat, and said, “While I still live, they already have assailed my younger brother. When I am gone, will they cut him like fish or meat upon the chopping board?” The Emperor, having no alternative, ordered that the sentence be carried out: the clan of Guan Fu was exterminated.
Dou Ying, Marquis of Weiqi, was also arrested and tried. He was found guilty on multiple counts and condemned to death.
The 4th year of Emperor Wu’s Yuan’guang Era (131 B.C.)
On December 30, in the depth of winter, Dou Ying, Marquis of Weiqi, was executed at Weicheng.
On March 17 of spring, Tian Fen, Marquis of Wu’an, passed away. In the aftermath of the rebellion of Liu An, Prince of Huainan, it was revealed that Tian Fen had received gold from the prince and spoken words that gave him encouragement. Upon hearing this, the Emperor said, “Had the Marquis of Wu’an still lived, his entire clan would have been put to death.”
In April, during early summer, a great frost descended and destroyed the crops.
Han Anguo, Grand Master of the Censorate, was entrusted with the duties of the Chancellor. While directing the imperial passage, he fell from his chariot and was lamed.
On May 20, Xue Ze, Marquis of Pingji, was appointed Chancellor. Han Anguo, stricken with illness, was discharged from office.
In that year, the earth trembled, and a general amnesty was proclaimed throughout the realm.
In September, Zhang Ou, Commandant of the Capital Guard, was appointed Grand Master of the Censorate. Han Anguo, whose health had recovered, was reappointed as Commandant of the Capital Guard.
Liu De, Prince of Hejian, delighted in learning and venerated the ancient texts. He pursued truth in study with sincerity, and richly rewarded those who presented worthy books, granting them gold and silk. He gathered writings from all quarters, and the number of volumes in his collection surpassed even that of the imperial archives. By contrast, Liu An, Prince of Huainan, likewise showed an interest in books, yet his compilations abounded in hollow theories and fanciful arguments.
The works collected by Prince Liu De were chiefly ancient writings from before the Qin dynasty, and treatises concerning rites and music. He collated and lightly amended these texts, reissuing more than five hundred pieces. In clothing and conduct, he upheld the forms of Confucian propriety, and scholars from the eastern commanderies esteemed him and came to follow his example.
The 5th year of Emperor Wu’s Yuan’guang Era (130 B.C.)
In October of winter, Liu De, Prince of Hejian, entered the capital. He presented formal music for ceremonial use, and responded to more than thirty inquiries from the Emperor concerning the rites and protocols of Sanyong Palaces (Three Institutions—the Imperial Academy, the Luminous Hall, and the Spiritual Terrace). In his replies, he displayed deep comprehension of Confucian doctrine, speaking with clarity, precision, and graceful brevity.
The Emperor commanded the Imperial Musicians to record the harmonies offered by the Prince and to rehearse them for use in grand ceremonies held throughout the year, though not as part of regular observances.
In January of spring, the Prince of Hejian passed away. Cheng Li, Commandant of the Capital Guard, memorialized the court with news of the prince’s death, praising him as upright and virtuous, modest and frugal, respectful of elders, and compassionate toward widows and orphans. He further extolled the prince’s deep discernment and keen judgment.
The Grand Herald submitted a formal petition, requesting that the Prince be granted the posthumous title “King of Xian,” meaning “Bright and Wise,” in accordance with the ancient ordinances governing posthumous honorifics.
Ban Gu’s praising remark: Duke Ai of Lu said, “I was born in the inner palace, reared among women, and knew not sorrow, nor fear.” Indeed, these words reveal a fundamental truth. Even should such a ruler strive with utmost care to shield his people from harm, peril cannot be wholly averted. Thus did the ancients regard indulgence and ease as a hidden poison, and wealth unaccompanied by virtue as a source of calamity.
From the founding of the Han to the reign of Emperor Ping, the princes and feudal lords numbered over a hundred. Many among them fell into arrogance and dissipation, straying far from the proper path. Why so? Immersed in luxury and indulgence, they became heedless, squandering their positions in reckless abandon. Even the common folk are shaped by habit and custom—how much more are those, like Duke Ai of Lu, reared in palaces, surrounded by opulence?
Only those who adhere steadfastly to the greater principles, standing above the vulgar multitude, may escape such fate. The late King Xian of Hejian approached this ideal.
Leave a comment