A Thousand Pieces of Gold

  Xiang Yu fled east and came to the Wu River. The chief of that district had prepared a boat and was waiting for him. He said to Xiang Yu, “I advise Your Majesty to cross the river as soon as possible. It so happens that I have the only boat around here. When the Han army arrives, they’ll be unable to cross.”

  But Xiang Yu laughed bitterly and said, “Since Heaven wishes to destroy me, why should I bother to cross the Wu River? Besides, when I started off in the beginning, I led an army of 8000 young men from that land east of the river. Now, not a single one is left to go home with me. Even if no one breathes a word about my losses, don’t you think the dead and wounded will weigh on my conscience?”

  The district chief said nothing. After a while, Xiang Yu turned to him again and said, “I know that you are a loyal and venerable elder, and I thank you. I have ridden this horse for five years. It is suo xiang wu di, ‘invincible and breaks all enemy resistance,’ and can run for long distances without tiring. I don’t have the heart to kill it and would like to give it to you.”

  Xiang Yu dismounted and ordered his troops to do the same. They retained only their short weapons and began hand-to-hand combat. Fighting valiantly, Xiang Yu himself was able to kill a few hundred more Han soldiers. But he sustained more than ten wounds in the process.

  Suddenly he recognized one of his former cavalry officers who had defected to the Han army. He said to Lu Matong, “Did you not use to fight for me at one time?”

  Lu turned away and pointed out Xiang Yu to his commanding officer Wang.

  Xiang Yu said, “I hear that Liu Bang has placed a price of 1000 pieces of gold and the income of 10,000 families on my head. I hereby present it to you as a gift.”

  He then cut his own throat and died. At that time he was thirty-one years old.

  Wang cut off Xiang Yu’s head. The other officers and men congregated around his headless body and fought over his remains so viciously that scores of men were killed. Finally, they agreed among themselves that the credit should be shared among five officers, including Lu, Wang, and Yang. They reassembled the body parts that each had in his possession and proved to everyone’s satisfaction that it was indeed Xiang Yu’s body. Liu Bang rewarded them liberally and conferred the title of marquis on them all.

  Toward General Hahn Xin, Liu Bang behaved very differently. Immediately after Xiang Yu’s death was confirmed, Liu Bang commandeered Hahn Xin’s army for his own use. Although he did make Hahn Xin King of Chu, it was largely a ceremonial title. He remained wary of Hahn Xin’s ability. Barely one year later, Liu Bang arrested him and took him to the capital. Finding no evidence of wrongdoing, Liu Bang demoted him to marquis and kept him in the capital for four years. Once, the two men had an interesting conversation.

  “How many troops do you think I am capable of directing?” Liu Bang asked.

  “One hundred thousand maximum,” Hahn Xin replied.

  “What about you?”

  “The more the better. There is no limit,” said Hahn Xin.

  “If that is the case, why are you my captive?”

  “Even though Your Majesty has little ability in directing soldiers, you have great ability in directing generals. That is why I am your captive. Your talent is not man-made but an inborn gift from Heaven.”

  After Xiang Yu’s death was announced, the rest of the cities in Chu all surrendered to Liu Bang. He buried Xiang Yu’s dismembered body in Kecheng (present-day Shandong Province), holding the ceremony as befitting the rank of a duke. Liu Bang himself attended the funeral, wearing mourning clothes and weeping in front of Xiang Yu’s tomb.

  As for Xiang Yu’s relatives with the last name of Xiang, Liu Bang did not harm them. Instead, he conferred the title of marquis on four of them, including Xiang Yu’s uncle Xiang Bo. It was Xiang Bo who had saved Liu Bang’s life during the sword dance at Hongmen (Wild Goose Gate), and Liu Bang never forgot that favor. He also allowed Xiang family members to change their surnames from Xiang to Liu, his own surname.

  Following his victory, Liu Bang held a celebratory banquet in his palace. He asked his ministers to compare him with Xiang Yu and offer reasons why he was the one who triumphed in the end. When no one could come up with a satisfactory answer, Liu Bang said, “This is the way I see it. Yun chou wei wo, in ‘devising strategies in a command tent’ that will assure victory while hundreds of miles away from the war, I am not as skillful as Strategist Zhang Liang. In governing a state, pacifying the people, distributing food, and paying the army on time, I am not as competent as Administrator Xiao He. In deploying millions of troops and winning battles, I am not as expert as General Hahn Xin. These three can truly be considered to be champions in their fields. But the fact that I am able not only to recognize their talents but also to have them all working for me—that is the reason I am now Ruler of All Under Heaven. Xiang Yu had only one competent adviser, Old Man Fan, but he could not even use him. That is why he lost.”

  Toward the end of March 201 B.C.E., at the insistence of his followers, Liu Bang was crowned First Emperor of the Han dynasty. During the early years of his reign, Liu Bang launched a series of purges against renowned generals such as General Hahn Xin and guerrilla fighter Peng, who had been instrumental in defeating Xiang Yu. In spite of their contribution, Liu Bang never trusted those high-ranking officials who had kept their own armies after he ascended the throne. He took advantage of the slightest pretext to take away their power, drove them to revolt, accused them of treason, and punished them with death. (In a similar fashion, Mao Tse-tung unleashed the Cultural Revolution in 1966 to rid himself of former comrades who, in his opinion, had become too powerful.)

  In 195 B.C.E. Liu Bang successfully quelled yet another rebellion. On his triumphant return to his capital of Changan (a few miles east of the Qin capital of Xianyang), he passed by his hometown, Pei. Unable to resist revisiting the landscape of his childhood, he stopped and held a big banquet in the newly constructed palace at Pei. To the banquet he summoned all the people, young and old, whom he had known previously. He drank wine with them and asked for the children of Pei to attend. One hundred and twenty came, and he sang with them the songs of his childhood. They laughed and rejoiced together, with Liu Bang relating stories about his past. When the adults had drunk to their hearts’ content, Liu Bang plucked the strings of a se (a twenty-five-stringed musical instrument similar to a zither) with a bamboo plectrum and sang a song he had just composed:

  A violent wind whipped away the clouds over the sky,

  Impressing everyone within the four seas with my might.

  On returning to the village of my birth

  Will I find valiant men to defend my turf?

  He taught the song to the children and asked them to repeat it in concert. While they sang, he rose and danced. All sorts of feelings welled up within him, and tears of happiness rolled down his cheeks. He said to the elders of Pei, “The wanderer is sad when he thinks of his native homeland. Although I must leave and take up residence in the Land Within the Passes, my soul will always hanker after the village of Pei, even after my life is over.”

  The dynasty founded by Liu Bang lasted for 400 years and was one of China’s greatest. From time to time, the Chinese still call themselves Han ren, “people of Han.” The proverb ren xin gui Han, “the heart of the people belongs to Han,” has taken on a whole range of different meanings, encompassing love of the Chinese language, fondness for the food, pride in the culture, reverence for elders, nostalgia, and hope for a better future for China.

  Even outside China, the Han dynasty is remembered today. The term kanji in Japanese is written in the same way as the Chinese words Han zi, only pronounced differently. The two characters mean “Chinese writing” in both languages. But the name China itself, by which her Chinese name, zhong guo, or “central kingdom,” is known to the rest of the world, is probably derived from the word Qin and originated because it was the name of the state and dynasty of the First Emperor.

  By the time of the birth of C
hina’s First Emperor in 259 B.C.E., Rome had replaced Greece to become the dominant city-state in Europe. Commerce began to flow along the Silk Road between East and West during the Han dynasty. There is archaeological evidence that Chinese silk was exchanged for Roman glass, gold ornaments, and Persian jewelry.

  Approximately three hundred years after the death of the Greek historians Herodotus and Thucydides, Sima Qian wrote his Shiji. Factors such as ancestor worship, filial piety, respect for the elderly, Confucianism, and continuity of the Chinese language have all contributed to the importance of the study of history in China. A book such as Shiji is perceived by the Chinese as a repository of the wisdom and cultural traditions of our ancestors.

  My Aunt Baba died in 1994 in our lao jia, “old family home,” in Shanghai. Shortly before the end, she was given heavy sedation but still had short spells of lucidity. Once she said to me, “It’s such a shame that the Red Guards destroyed everything in my safe deposit box during the Cultural Revolution. Otherwise I could give you back all your report cards from kindergarten and primary school, as well as your Ye Ye’s letters. He used to worry about dying, not for himself but because of all of you. He regretted that he had no money or precious objects to leave to his grandchildren. He was concerned that he was going to die without bequeathing a legacy to any of you.”

  She lapsed back into sleep as I mulled over her words. I thought back on my own life: my quest for approval from my family, Father’s single-minded pursuit of wealth, Niang’s malice, Lydia’s treachery, and James’s denial. Then I remembered Ye Ye telling me to study hard and daring me to compete in the most difficult examinations. “No matter what else people may steal from you,” he said, “they will never be able to take away your knowledge!”

  I took Aunt Baba’s hand and said, “It is not true that Ye Ye died without leaving me a legacy.” Just then an astounding thought occurred to me. Aunt Baba was snoring softly, but I continued, “All those proverbs Ye Ye taught me, and the stories behind those proverbs, they are all qi huo ke ju, ‘precious treasure worth cherishing.’ They are his legacy to me.”

  Getting up at dawn in the quiet of my home in Huntington Beach to write, I hear Ye Ye’s voice urging me on. I wish I could show him my work and thank him for his unwavering belief in my worth. If he could see me today, would he be proud?

  Once Aunt Baba asked me, “Of course, if you had obeyed Niang and not helped Lydia and her children out of Communist China, Niang would never have disinherited you. Do you regret your actions?”

  It was an interesting hypothetical question, and my answer surprised me: “No,” I said, “because in spite of herself, Niang did provide me with a legacy of sorts. Deception and malice are her legacy. Her acts provided the plot and the impetus that impelled me to write my first book. Without them, would I have had the determination to give up my medical practice and become a writer? I don’t know the answer myself.”

  Just as each of us creates her own destiny, we also bequeath specific legacies through our conduct. The money we leave behind is but a tiny part of that legacy. In the end, it is the essence of the person herself that exerts the deepest and most lasting influence on her heirs.

  In spite of being disowned, I consider myself to have been richly endowed by the four adults who shaped my life. My Aunt Baba gave me unconditional love and boundless self-confidence. My stepmother, Niang, stoked my determination with her constant rejection, even from beyond the grave. My father provided me with such sound business advice in Monte Carlo that I have never looked back since that day. And my grandfather left me a matchless collection of proverbs that I have never forgotten.

  In this book I have tried to give a personalized account of the life and times of the First Emperor of China as recorded in Shiji and seen through my eyes. When I began, I had no idea that so many of the proverbs told to me by Ye Ye first came from the pen of a historian who lived 2100 years ago.

  I am approaching the age of my grandfather when he passed away fifty years ago. At this stage I would like to hand on my legacy from him to you. I hope you will find these proverbs entertaining as well as inspirational. By taking incidents from my own life and inserting appropriate proverbs the way they are used every day in China, I hope to make them come alive, thereby explaining how the Chinese think, and why we think the way we do.

  List of Proverbs

  INTRODUCTION

  Luo ye gui gen

  “Falling leaves return to their roots.”

  Xuan jie zhi ji

  “A disease of the skin.”

  Xin fu zhi huan

  “A malady of the heart.”

  Chun wang chi han

  “When the lips are gone, the teeth are cold.”

  Two parties are interdependent.

  Jiao tu san ku

  “A cunning rabbit has three warrens.”

  Prepare more than one fall-back position.

  CHAPTER 1

  Jiu niu yi mao

  “The loss of one hair from nine oxen.”

  Something that appears to be insignificant and inconsequential but may actually be of great import.

  CHAPTER 2

  Qi huo ke ju

  “Precious treasure worth cherishing” or “Precious commodity worth hoarding.”

  Handan xue bu

  “The people of Handan are so elegant that youths everywhere imitate even the way they walk.”

  A comment on those who lose their original self by slavishly imitating the ways of others.

  Xin zhi suo wei

  “Grasping the essence of what he was alluding to.”

  Yi yan er wan shi zhi li

  “Speaking one sentence that results in ten thousand generations of gain.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Jing xi zi zhi

  “Respect and cherish written words.”

  Yi zi qian jin

  “One written word is worth a thousand pieces of gold.”

  A literary masterpiece.

  CHAPTER 4

  Guo zu bu qian

  “Binding your feet to prevent your own progress.”

  Nonadvancement due to self-imposed restraint.

  CHAPTER 5

  Gu zhang nan ming

  “Clapping with one hand will produce no sound” or “It takes two hands to clap.”

  One cannot negotiate alone; or, it takes two to tango.

  Gai guan lun ding

  “Only when a person is dead and the lid of his coffin closed can final judgment be passed on him.”

  Han Feizi’s writing has been admired by hundreds of millions of readers over the centuries. Like King Zheng, we continue to be dazzled by his brilliance and ingenuity. The titles of many of his essays have become well-known proverbs. The following are some examples:

  Zi xiang mao dun

  “Using one’s spear to pierce one’s shield.”

  There was a vendor at the market who sold spears and shields. Holding up a shield, he cried, “My shields are so well built that nothing can pierce them.” Then he raised a spear and shouted, “My spears are so sharp that they will penetrate anything.”

  The crowd jeered him, and one of them asked, “What happens when you use one of your spears to pierce one of your shields?”

  The vendor remained silent and could not answer.

  This proverb is used to describe a person who contradicts himself in action or words. Because of its popularity, the essence of the story behind the proverb has been incorporated into the Chinese language. If the two words mao (spear) and dun (shield) are used side by side, the Chinese term mao-dun (spear-armor) means “contradiction.” This is a typical example of the way Chinese language evolved: by using concrete objects to represent abstract concepts.

  Mai du huan zhu

  “Purchasing the box and returning the pearls.”

  A jeweler from the state of Chu went to another state to sell a strand of beautiful pearls. He made a box for the pearls with fine-grained wood from the magnolia tree, treated it with sweet-smelling
perfume made from osmanthus blossoms, mounted it with white jade, decorated it with rose-colored precious stones, and lined its borders with green jadeite. The craftsmanship was so exquisite that a man bought the box and returned the pearls to the jeweler.

  It can be said that the buyer made a strange decision. He was so much swayed by the beauty of the box that he never noticed the value of the pearls.

  The proverb mai du huan zhu, “purchasing the box and returning the pearls,” describes a person who grasps the image but lets go of the substance.

  Zheng ren mai lu

  “A man from Zheng buys shoes.”

  A man from the district of Zheng wanted to buy a pair of shoes. He measured his feet at home and wrote down the size. Being absent-minded, he left the measurement on his chair and rushed off. When he reached the market, he approached the shoemaker’s stall but could not find the measurement he had written. Still he paid for a pair of shoes. Then he said to the shoemaker, “I’ve forgotten the measurement of my feet at home and don’t know what size I should buy. I ‘m going home to get it.” When he returned to the market with the measurement, he found that it had already closed.

  Someone said to him, “Don’t you have a pair of feet? Why didn’t you try on the shoes when you were at the shoemaker’s stall?”

  “I trust only the measurement of my feet but not my actual feet,” replied the man.

  The proverb alludes to people who rigidly follow rules regardless of actual circumstances.

  Shou zhu dai tu

  “Watching the tree to catch a hare.”