Wu Jin Zang. Pang Bei

its history was also gone. Among the historical books compiled by surrendered officials on imperial orders, all the mandates of heaven and propitious signs were eliminated, so were ill omens. As to anomaly phenomena in Southern Tang, the double pupils of Last King Li Yu seemed to be the only record.

      Only three people with double pupils were recorded in past history, Cang Jie, Yu Shun and Xiang Yu. Cang Jie was a literary sage, Yu Shun a sage king, and Xiang Yu an overlord. The founding king of Southern Tang gained power dishonestly, and thus Yushun’s virtue of abdication was his taboo. The usurper desisted from military activities and encouraged culture and education, unwilling to see his descendants follow the example of Xiang Yu. So he would rather regard the birth of his grandson in the year when the state was founded as a sign of the supernatural appearance of Cang Jie. With a broad forehead, plump cheeks, and double pupils in one year, this grandson of the king was born with a strange appearance. By the time when he came of age and a capping ceremony was held for him, the founding king named him “Chongguang” (meaning double light). With the makeups of dragon and phoenix and double light in a time of prosperity, the double pupils, for the king, represented literary grace.

      As the handsome boy grew up, beautiful girls in Qinhuai saw tender feelings in the double pupils. After this sentimental prince and graceful scholar was enthroned like a jade tree embracing the wind, court officials saw docility in his double pupils. Some people also saw cowardice and imbecility, but no one saw murder.

      When the heaven is to murder, stars and constellations are removed; when the earth is to murder, dragons and serpents arise from the land; when people are to murder, heaven and earth are overturned.

      Thank goodness! As a survivor of Southern Tang, I managed to live out a meager existence incognita. I strove to live only to testify to the facts buried.

      Lin Renzhao, native of Fujian, was a famous general of Southern Tang. His descendants are not mentioned in the residual historical books about Southern Tang. As his unworthy son, I am now having one foot in the grave. Though I lived on in degradation, I still maintained moral integrity and never brought disgrace to my forefathers. It is said that the present age is still a time of national peace and order, and the current king is a virtuous and enlightened monarch. Historians of the Great Song dynasty also refer to the ancestors of the king as men of virtue, who were all sage kings. King Taizu passed on the throne to king Taizong, king Taizong to king Zhenzong and king Zhenzong to the current king. The sage king of this great dynasty has also endowed me with an official position and protection, which I would not accept. I am unwilling to bear witness to the history of this dynasty. I do not want to waste my residual energy. Now that my health is declining, with trembling hands and blurred eyesight, my unfulfilled wish in the last days of my life is to write about what I saw and heard on that day of great catastrophe, not only because I was a descendant of General Lin but also I could disclose another side of the truth about the short-lived dynasty. In brief, I witnessed the scene in which “ghosts cried at night”. (Gods and spirits are immense, no one can tell whether they are real or false. Despite Sage Confucius’s reticence, I would like to them discourse..)

      Demons and monsters howled and danced in broad daylight; foxes and rats moved about freely through cities. The air of rebellion was adequate to instigate rebellion; the evil spirit was adequate to create evil. When there were more people, people ate beast; when there were more beasts, beasts ate people. Let wise Cang Jie endow me with the power of writing! Let this withering hand no more tremble while holding the writing brush! I wrote about the sorrowful confession in a deserted temple on the suburbs of the city of Bianzhou.

      Autumn wind soughed, wild geese in the cold flew south. The ravaged territory south of the Yangtze River had already been subsumed into the domain of the Song Dynasty. Nanjing was no longer an imperial and national capital. Not long since, it was a state with brilliant literature, and I used to wander through the picturesque landscape. In this state with a large population and abundant natural resources, civil officials were indolent and military officers were pleasure-seeking, regardless of the wolf pack on watch in the north. It was also a Buddha-worship state, where the king was a devout Buddhist, and all the people followed suit crazily. The river rolled eastward, and sutra chanting sounded like billows. Crows flurried and ate offerings to Buddha. In the late autumn of the north, I am recalling those numerous banquets, in which elegantly dressed men and women enjoyed soft music and graceful dances. The wine was running out and the guests were departing, while a gentle breeze and bright moonlight played outside the curtain. Deep inside the palace, a life light foreboded the life or death of a famous military officer guarding the state.

      The monarch should treat courtiers with etiquette and courtiers should serve the monarch with loyalty. This sacred standard is found in all of the numerous volumes of Confucian classics, a compulsory course I must learn when I was in the Imperial College. But I am not intelligent, neither gifted nor diligent. I always can’t memorize poems or scriptures. Born in a waning age, I have been tired of the theory of official career. It’s said that the grace of men will not last more than five generations. And I have seen too many rich and powerful families which could not last more than three generations. Lifetime is limited, honor and joyous terminate upon death. Magnificent buildings, sumptuous banquets, such spectaculars are but transitory. Some may say that wealth can be stored for the offspring, but how many of them can keep it? Those genealogies recording a long and lofty lineage are obviously unreal. The immoral and unworthy later generations are also thugs who, despite the favor of fortune, have few praiseworthy exploits.

      With the vicissitudes of fate, my life is to end soon. Now that I am hoary-headed and all alone, I think of the past when I escaped by a little boat floating in wind and weathering the elements, which was no other than an old dream. “The long road stretches afar, I spend my remaining years in sorrow.” In the dim light of dawn and dusk, when I recall those remote dusty and smoky past events, the appearances of some women always occur to my mind vaguely. Of the three charms of moonlight, one is for talent and beauty, one is for adoration and love, and one finally flees away with flowing water. The beloved parted. The hated came. One cannot get what one wishes. In this declining season of my life, I have already been freed from the pains of love, my heart free from concerns. Dreams and illusions are but shadows on bubbles, broken in an instant. Let my worn-out writing brush return to the gorgeously luxurious Jiangnan region, and to the autumn day in the sixth year of the Kaibao Period.

      The sixth year of the Kaibao period, which marked the thirty-sixth anniversary of the foundation of Southern Tang, was also the second year before the perish of Southern Tang. It was an ordinary year. Despite some extraordinary records of cannibalism, no disasters such as giant earthquakes and landslides occurred. It was an ordinary day. Though it was the day of my capping ceremony, it was also the day of capping ceremony of many men in the world. It happened to be the Mid-Autumn Festival, which was also an ordinary Mid-Autumn Festival.

      At noon, students of the imperial college crowded before the court, prostrating to present petitions and drumming to send in memorials. The king canceled the court meetings and no opportunities were available for people to air views. Malefactors were not punished, and people lived in utter misery. Armies from the north pressed on to the border, and the state was in an extremely precarious situation. Officials, steeped in evils, were money-mad; officers, afraid of death, were battle-shy. Of all the officials and officers in the court, only General Lin was able to command the army to resist the invasion of the enemy. (The editor’s note: It is also recorded in Ma Ling’s History of Southern Tang that Chen Qiao, a military affairs commissioner of the last king’s court, also remarked, “Had Renzhao commanded the army to resist outside invasion and I controlled confidential work, the state would not have been overthrown despite its precarious situation!”)

      A hurricane rose suddenly, black clouds covered the sky. In a moment, the sky sank and the earth was dark, turning the day into a night. Students prostrated on the ground. Some beat their chest and stamped their feet. Some went around campaigning for the cause. The sun was swallowed up by the sky dog, and the sky was covered by sand and smog. All were tragically dark under heaven. Someone saw the copper camels before the court shed tears. But no golden pheasant flagpole was raised on the street before the court, nor was any imperial edict of remission issued. The king was deep inside the court shielded by nine gates, and the petitioners failed to have their petitions heard.