In Canton, two ambitious men assembled tens of thousands of grumbling farmers and started to raid cities and towns. A local gentleman, Ho Zan,14 rapidly reported this revolt to his governor and meanwhile collected a few thousand labor hands to cope with this chaotic situation. They had a few skirmishes with the rebels with indecisive result. The government duly dispatched several thousand well-trained soldiers, along with tens of thousands of local military forces. After many bloody battles, the imperial army repossessed territory after territory and eventually besieged the rebel’s headquarters, a mid-sized city.
Killing one of the rebel leaders, the government soldiers encircled this city. However, the city was well-fortified, and the desperate rebels held off the army for months. To bring an end to this situation, Ho Zan publicly announced that he would provide a handsome bounty of eight thousand ounces of pure silver to whoever captured the other ringleader, a man named Wong Chen,15 who was hiding in the besieged city with a few thousand diehard rebels.
A week after Ho Zan’s announcement of a reward, the rebel ringleader was sent, heavily bound, to Ho Zan’s camp by one of the rebel’s own bodyguards.
“Look at yourself! How pathetic and helpless you are.” the gentleman remarked in mockery. “Even your own servant betrayed you. How can you expect to accomplish anything at all when you can’t even trust your own men?”
Shamefaced and sweating all over, Wong Chen dared not utter a word. After rewarding this bodyguard, Ho Zan ordered his assistants to prepare a caldron of boiling water and place it on a horse-drawn cart. Believing it to be prepared for himself, the ringleader shivered and trembled with terror. “Oh, by the way,” called Ho Zan to the departing bodyguard, “you must stay here for a little longer.” Several soldiers seized the man and brought him back to their master. Wrathfully staring at him, this gentleman, with obvious contempt, reprimanded him.
“You picked the wrong time to become so moral. Why didn’t you turn yourself in and expose your master’s conspiracy to the local authority while it was in the bud? You didn’t do so because you wanted to enjoy the glory with your master. However, you didn’t want to share the misery with him. What an unprincipled crook! By turning in your own master for a bounty when he was cornered, you instantly become a double-crosser, a heartless traitor who abuses your master’s trust. Your disloyalty is the single most unforgivable crime any subordinate could possibly commit. I must punish you and teach other cunning servants a dear lesson. This spa is prepared for you, the betrayer.”
With a gesture this gentleman ordered his servants to tie up this astonished bodyguard and throw him into the caldron, which would be drawn through some of the most crowded streets of the city. The unlucky bodyguard was slowly boiled alive while his crime was loudly and repeatedly declared on the road. From that day on, no servants dared to betray their masters.
Raise Pigs in the Palace
Northern Sung Dynasty960 A.D. to 1127 A.D.
In the old days, the size of an imperial palace was so enormous that even an emperor might not visit every corner of it during his regime. This interesting story happened in the middle of the eleventh century A.D. The emperor Sung-Shen16 was strolling around the royal garden and surprisingly discovered a pigsty. With astonishment and exasperation, he immediately directed one of his assistants to summon the responsible supervisor. Minutes later, the supervisor hurriedly arrived, and fell to his knees trembling with anxiety.
“What’s wrong with you,” the emperor sternly questioned “raising those filthy and stinking pigs in my royal garden, right besides these expensive and exotic flowers! Are you out of your mind? This is my imperial palace, not a shoddy farmer’s vegetable garden. Why are these offensive animals here?”
“Your Majesty,” the supervisor nervously explained, “it’s not my idea at all. I didn’t make this pigsty. It has been here for generations. They said that Your Majesty’s ancestors built it and started this strange custom. I only faithfully follow it. We raise the pigs until they reach maturity. Then, we slaughter them and eat their meat. I really don’t understand the reason behind maintaining this pigsty, but it is custom.”
Shaking his head, the emperor allowed the supervisor to stand up and pardoned the man. The supervisor courteously bowed and backed away from his master. Still disgusted, the emperor directed his assistants to tear down that pigsty.
Several years later, one night in the palace, servants complained of a ghost appearing in a locked room. They testified that they saw some suspicious long shadows flying and floating there. An older servant said that fresh pig blood splashed all over the possessed room would effectively exorcise any evil spirit. After an anxious search of the enormous imperial palace, all the servants and eunuchs reported that there were no pigs to be found. The incident was duly reported to the emperor, who suddenly recalled the sty he’d removed, and then understood the importance of having those pigs in the garden.
The emperor’s ancestors were really farsighted. Although those pigs were never used, this measure of precaution was indispensable. The same mentality could also be applied to ordinary people. Without obvious and immediate troubles, you may ignore simple precautions that could have been of benefit in a future crisis.
An Uncommon Present
Northern Sung Dynasty960 A.D. to 1127 A.D.
In the old days, to maintain a friendly relationship with its neighbors, China routinely exchanged presents with them. This amusing episode occurred in the early eleventh century A.D.
In a diplomatic communication, the country of Vietnam mentioned that they would like to deliver a live Kirin, a legendary animal of good luck, to the Chinese emperor next year. The Kirin, a symbol of fortune and prosperity, had never been seen before, and was known only through stories and in folklore.
If indeed the Kirin existed, it would be a magnificent gift and would bring great honor to the nation. But if this were a trick, China would be embarrassed in front of all her neighbors. Whether or not to receive this unusual present became a touchy issue. In a royal conference, the emperor asked his commissioners for suggestions. Most of the officials were silent. They truly didn’t know how to handle this unique and delicate dilemma.
After a period of silence, Syma Guang,17 the sophisticated prime minister spoke up. “Your Majesty, why should we be honored with such an unusual gift? According to mythology, a Kirin only appears in a country that is blessed. Since it appeared in Vietnam, it must be for them. We are not entitled to it. On the other hand, if this Kirin is fraudulent and we accept and worship it, we will make complete fools of ourselves. In either possibility, receiving it is not in our best interest.”
“I understand what you are saying,” spoke the emperor, “but what should I do?”
Syma Guang smiled. “We can use this incident to our advantage. Vietnam’s real intention is no concern of ours. We must play along with them, treating this proposal as genuine and sincere. Your Majesty should publicly express your appreciation, but formally decline to receive this ‘exceptional’ present. Furthermore, Your Majesty should bestow on them a generous award for their thoughtfulness. As a result of this unselfish action, other neighboring countries will be deeply impressed and even surprised by Your Majesty’s integrity and generosity. In the future, they will admire us for our selflessness and broad-mindedness, which is a gain for our dynasty’s reputation. If this proposal is insincere or even mischievous, our southern neighbor will feel embarrassed upon receiving our lavish award.”
After carefully listening to this perceptive suggestion, the emperor was delighted, and immediately instructed his diplomat to do all as the prime minister said.
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