Yang Xiong, style name Ziyun, was born in Chengdu, Sichuan. His ancestors can be traced back to Boqiao of the Zhou Dynasty. The descendants of Boqiao were given land in Yangdi in the Jin State, so they took "Yang" as their surname. Which Zhou dynasty Boqiao belonged to is anyone's guess. Yangdi is located between the Yellow River and the Fen River. After the decline of the Zhou Dynasty, some members of the Yang family were enfeoffed as marquises, known as the Marquis of Yang. Later, the Jin state's power struggles and the rise of Han, Wei, and Zhao saw the decline of the Fan and Zhi clans. At that time, the Marquis of Yang was forced to flee to Mount Wu (巫山 Wushan) in the State of Chu, where he settled. During the Chu-Han Contention, the Yang family moved along the Yangtze River and settled in Jiangzhou, Bajun. Later, Yang Xiong's ancestor, Yang Ji, served as the prefect of Lujiang. During the Han Yuan Ding period, to get away from their enemies, they moved further upriver and settled south of Minshan, in Pixian County, with only a piece of land and a house, farming and raising silkworms to make ends meet, generation after generation. From Yang Ji to Yang Xiong, it was passed down for five generations, so Yang Xiong is the only descendant of the Yang family in Shu.
Yang Xiong loved learning from a young age. He wasn't hung up on the nitty-gritty of textual criticism; he just wanted the gist of it. He was a voracious reader, practically devouring every book he could get his hands on. He was unpretentious, a bit scatterbrained, and had a bit of a stutter; he wasn't one for long speeches. He enjoyed contemplation and was content, not one for chasing pleasure or fame, unconcerned with poverty, and never one to show off. Despite his impoverished family background, with only ten measly coins and barely enough food to last a year, he remained remarkably calm. He had his own standards: he only read books by sages, and he wouldn't care about wealth or honor if it wasn't something he truly believed in. However, he loved writing poetry and prose.
At that time, there was a Sima Xiangru in Shu, who wrote extremely gorgeous and exquisite literary pieces, with gentle and elegant language. Yang Xiong admired him very much and regarded Sima Xiangru's works as a model for learning every time he wrote. He also felt very sorry for Qu Yuan, believing that Qu Yuan's talent far surpassed Sima Xiangru's, but he was ostracized. After writing "Li Sao" and throwing himself into the river, he felt sad about it and would cry every time he read "Li Sao." He believed that a gentleman could achieve great success if he caught a good opportunity, but if he missed it, he could only lurk like a dragon or snake. This is all fate, so why insist on dying to make a statement? Therefore, he wrote a piece, borrowing the rhetoric of "Li Sao" but expressing the opposite view, and threw this work from Minshan into the water's embrace to mourn Qu Yuan, naming it "Fan Li Sao"; he also used "Li Sao" as the basis to create another piece called "Guang Sao"; he further created a volume based on "Xi Song" to "Huai Sha," named "Pan Lao Chou." "Pan Lao Chou" and "Guang Sao" are very long, so they are not recorded here; only "Fan Li Sao" is recorded, and the piece begins like this:
They say that the descendants of the Zhou family include some ancestors who were the founders by the Fen River, a branch of Boqiao during the Lingzong period, later moving to the Hou family in Yangzhou. The Zhou dynasty and the Chu state were once prosperous, but later they drifted away from the royal family's turbulence, relying on the river and lake to support their body and mind, thinking about the tragic end of the Chu state's Xianglei.
Alas, the ways of Heaven are inscrutable; why does purity so often succumb to chaos? Chaos stems from its murky depths, its murkiness from its inherent complexity.
During the Yangshuo years of the Han Dynasty, the star signs indicated the mandate of the Zhou Dynasty, a symbol of heaven's clarity, and also foretold the virtue of the earth. I carefully studied the prosperous history of our family and consulted the glorious records, wearing my jade pendant and simple shoes. I used to have such fine clothes, but now they have become so plain. Those precious jewels were exchanged for the wealth of the Jiurong tribe, known for their riches.
A phoenix soaring above Penglai—how can it be compared to a mere goose! Riding a spirited horse on rugged mountain roads, while donkeys can only walk side by side. Thorns abound, and insects hide inside, daring not to come out; those so-called loyal ministers, only interested in their own advancement, I only realized this now! Wearing vibrant green robes and a crimson cloak, the fragrance is strong but no one pays attention; I might as well hide it away in a quiet room. The women in the inner chambers vie for beauty, with captivating postures, knowing that many will be jealous; why deliberately show off those beautiful eyebrows?
Lurking in the deep waters like a divine dragon, waiting for auspicious clouds to appear before soaring, losing the caress of the spring breeze—who can know where the dragon is? Alas, my family's beauties, like fragrant orchids in full bloom, encounter the severe frost of midsummer; beautiful things will soon wither.
I want to cross the Xiang River and head south, with clouds drifting in the sky. I will ride the swollen river to find traces of Chonghua. My worries trouble me, but I fear Chonghua won't understand. The Lord of Lingyang enjoys his peaceful boat rides; does he only notice the suffering of my family?
Ai, I originally wanted to use chrysanthemums to wish you a long life, but instead, I ended up committing suicide in the Miluo River. Alas, I'm afraid the sun is setting too quickly. I drove the sun bird, letting it soar, and the phoenix and Chinese hoopoe also took flight. It's not just Fei Lian and Yun Shi who can fly!
I picked banyan, sweet flag, and orchids, and threw them into the Xiang River; I also tossed in fragrant peppers and cinnamon, letting them rot in the water. I used herbs to offer sacrifices to the gods and searched painstakingly for qiong grass, but the gods refused my offerings, and I ended up throwing myself into the river!
I used to think about emulating Fu Shuo; why didn’t I believe in my own success? I’m just afraid that the magpie will start calling, worried that after my death, all the grass will lose its fragrance!
At first, I abandoned that foolish concubine, missed the fairy of Yao Tai, and used the toxic male hoopoe as a matchmaker—why can’t I find a partner? I rode on the colored clouds, gazed at Kunlun Mountain, looked in all directions, and wondered, why must it be that fairy on the high mound?
Since there’s no tranquil and beautiful setting like the Luan carriage, let’s ride the eight dragons and cry by the river; how can I still find the heart to write "Nine Songs"? Saints and sages encounter misfortunes; it’s all fate. Although I cry in the city, I worry that the gods won’t change their minds. Confucius left the state of Lu, traveled leisurely through the states, and eventually returned home. Why must I throw myself into the Xiang River?
I shared food and drink with the fishermen, washed my clothes, abandoned the things that Laozi and Zhuangzi cherished, and also gave up what Peng Xian left behind!
During the reign of Emperor Xiaocheng, someone recommended a man whose literary talent rivaled Sima Xiangru's. The emperor was then making sacrifices in places like Ganquan, Taizhi, and Fenyin, hoping for an heir. He summoned this man to the Chengming Hall to serve as a court official. In the first month, the emperor went to Ganquan, and upon his return, this man presented an ode titled "Ganquan Fu" to praise the sacrifices. The ode reads:
For ten generations, Han emperors offered sacrifices to the heavens outside the city, determining the location for the offerings, stabilizing the state, honoring the emperor's title, matching the achievements of the legendary Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, bestowing blessings on future generations, expanding the territory, and establishing the dynasty. Then, the emperor ordered the ministers to choose an auspicious day and time, arrange the itinerary according to the stars, call upon the Yingyang and Taiyin stars to protect them, have the Gouchen star guard the army, rely on geomancers to plan the camp, and use military force to deter the barbaric enemies. With the blessings of the gods from all directions, the army was ready, Chiyou's descendants, weapons drawn, ran swiftly. Their movements were as swift and fluid as a cloud, as fierce and relentless as the wind; their formations, dense as fish scales, soared like a flock of birds; grandeur and mist surrounded them, shining brightly, a spectacular sight.
Next, the emperor rode a gorgeously decorated phoenix carriage, pulled by six green Chi Long horses, with a grand procession, a magnificent sight. The oppressive air lifted, replaced by a surge of vital energy; the carriage soared high into the sky, surpassing the clouds—what a magnificent sight! Flags shining like shooting stars, emerald green canopies and phoenix flags, ten thousand cavalry in the central army, a thousand jade carriages, the sound of carriages and horses thundering, swift as lightning, racing like the wind. Passing towering mountains and clear streams, the procession reached the heavenly gate and entered the palace.
Before I even got to Ganquan Palace, I saw the road leading to heaven. Below, it was dark and cold, but above, clouds swirled, reaching up to the heavens, all majestic and immense. A sacrificial altar stood on the flat plain, with newly built ramparts surrounding the woods; palaces and pavilions were all connected, lavishly decorated; towering hills and deep valleys reflected each other, with mountains overlapping endlessly.
So, this Great Xia place... the whole place was huge; it towered into the clouds, so high I couldn't even see the top. I looked around, completely lost, a vast, endless expanse stretching in every direction, and panic set in. I was riding around in my carriage, and before I knew it, I was totally lost. Everywhere I looked, there were jade trees. The walls were carved with rhinos, and golden statues guarded the bell tower. Dragon scales, carved into the rocks, gleamed like fire. The whole place was magnificent—it looked like the Emperor of Heaven's palace!
A huge platform stood alone, reaching up to the sky, like a path to the North Pole. Constellations wheeled overhead, the sun, moon, and stars zipped past, thunder boomed, lightning flashed—even ghosts and gods wouldn't have been able to navigate this place without tripping! I zipped through the reflection, flew across the bridge, and soared into the sky, feeling light as a feather.
On the left is the *Chāng Qiāng*, on the right is the *Xuán Míng*, in front is the *Biāo Què*, behind is the *Yìng Mén*; to the west lies a sullen, dark sea, and to the east, the shadowy depths of the underworld, where springs bubble up, merging into rivers. A dragon coils on the eastern cliffs, while the white tiger guards Kunlun Mountain. I look into the distance; the scenery is magnificent, and the sky to the west is clear. In front, the grand hall stands majestic, the *Héshì Bì* shining brightly. The columns on the roof tower into the clouds, as if they are about to collapse, and the palace is vast and airy, magnificent in its purple hues. The palace buildings extend in a staggered manner, layer upon layer, interconnected. I ride on the cloud pavilion, flying up and down, surrounded by clouds and mist, beautiful beyond words. Crimson ribbons dance on the breeze, while jade-green clouds drift lazily. I walk through the *Xián Shì* and the leaning palace, feeling as if I have climbed a high mountain peak, overlooking the deep abyss, with a solemn reverence in my heart.
Wow, the atmosphere here is incredible! The air hummed with the intoxicating perfume of osmanthus, pepper trees, and willow, a heady mix that threatened to overwhelm the senses! This fragrance keeps drifting, as if it's about to break through the roof, growing ever stronger. If you smell carefully, there is also a faint herbal scent coming from underground; a low hum resonated, as if echoing from the earth itself. Pushing open the jade door and walking past the golden bed, a wave of refreshing orchid fragrance washed over me, its sweetness seemingly boundless. However, this fragrance gradually fades, becoming more and more deep and mysterious, making it hard to fathom. The interplay of yin and yang creates a symphony of sound, as harmonious as a duet by *Kuí* and *Yá* on the ancient qin.
Then, those responsible for building the palace abandoned the original design and used a new method instead. Although they tried their best to imitate the previous style, it always felt a bit like a dream—somehow unreal. The whole scene changed too quickly, leaving people dazzled and speechless. The emperor, on the other hand, was enjoying peaceful moments in this magnificent palace. He was single-mindedly trying to purify his soul, settle his thoughts, comprehend the heavens and earth, and communicate with the spirits. So, he gathered skilled craftsmen and talented individuals to showcase their abilities and build this glorious palace. They used rattan mats, adorned rooms with beautifully carved branches, breathed in fresh air, drank divine nectar, held sacrificial ceremonies in the sacred grove, and chanted hymns in the temple. High flags billowed in the wind, their brilliance majestic. The emperor stood high above, overlooking the land where magnificent mountains and rivers lay as far as the eye could see. Countless chariots and horses were parked in the eastern encampment, with jade weapons neatly arranged. Chariots raced through the dragon abyss, reaching the nine realms, even peering into the depths of the earth before returning to the surface. The wind gently blew, the chariots moved steadily forward, phoenixes danced in the sky, and the wheels rolled over the weak water, as if traversing the winding mountain roads of Mount Buzhou. Imagine the Queen Mother of the West joyfully celebrating her birthday, dismissing the concubines and leaving only the jade maidens to serve. The jade maidens served attentively, while the concubines could only feel desolate. The emperor dedicated himself to self-cultivation, drawing strength from heaven and earth to achieve divinity.
Wow, the emperor really pulled out all the stops for blessings! First, he prayed devoutly in the ancestral temple, then lit incense, worshiped the heavens, and even invited the Taiyi god. Look at the scene: the high altar, the sacred flags, the sacrificial fire everywhere, the air thick with incense—it's as if the whole world is enveloped in it, with the light illuminating everything for miles around. The offerings were amazing, with precious jade items and fine wines neatly arranged, the fragrance intoxicating—it was a grand and solemn affair. The emperor also invited the shaman to report to the heavenly emperor and invite the gods to participate in the ceremony. Clouds swirled, and the spirits seemed to descend upon the altar, with offerings piled up like mountains, creating a bountiful scene.
After the ceremony, the emperor led the procession back to the palace, passing through three mountains and seeing the blooming pear blossoms—a scene where spring was in full bloom! This successful ceremony brought blessings from above, the land was blessed, peace throughout the world, and harmony among nations. Back at Changping Mountain, the thunderous drums boosted morale, the soldiers were invigorated, and the rain from heaven brought admiration from the people—a scene of prosperity! This prosperity will continue to flourish!
Finally, let's end with a concluding folk song: "The round altar is revered, hidden in the heavens, as we ascend and descend the mountains and ridges, flat and open. The grand palace is majestic, the hills are rugged, the mountains are steep, and the caves are deep. The heavenly blessings are radiant, the emperor is noble and sincere, offering prayers and sacrifices, where the spirits dwell. The shining light dazzles, and blessings abound, generation after generation, may prosperity last forever." This folk song vividly expresses the scene of the ceremony and the emperor's devout prayers, praying for lasting peace and prosperity!
Ganquan Palace, originally a Qin Dynasty palace, was already luxurious enough, but Emperor Wu added on Tongtian Palace, Gaoguang Palace, and Yingfeng Palace. Near the palace are Hongya Mountain, Panghuang Mountain, Chuxu Mountain, and Nuqu Mountain, and further away are Shiguan Mountain, Fengluan Mountain, Zhi Que Mountain, Luhuan Mountain, Tangli Mountain, and Shide Mountain. The scenery is breathtaking and stunning, completely natural without any artificial carving, not even the walls have been painted. This is a place visited by King Xuan of Zhou and Emperor Ban Geng of the Shang Dynasty; Xia and Tang-Yu dynasty palaces are much simpler compared to this. This palace has been around for ages, not just built during the reign of Emperor Cheng. If I were to offer advice, it would seem untimely, but I feel uncomfortable holding it in, so I simply followed the Emperor's wishes and heaped praise on it, saying it was more like a divine creation than a human one.
At that time, Zhao Zhaoyi was in favor, and every time the Emperor went to Ganquan Palace, she would accompany him, sitting in the emperor's carriage. So Sima Xiangru took the opportunity to say some grand words, boasting about the numerous carriages and horses and the magnificent processions, saying all this pomp and circumstance wouldn't impress anyone, let alone the heavens. He also tactfully advised the Emperor, saying, "Send those fancy ladies away, and keep the noise down!" It was a subtle nudge towards more courtly decorum. He handed it over, and the Emperor thought it was brilliant.
In March, the emperor led his ministers across the Yellow River to Fenying to offer sacrifices to the Earth Goddess. After the ceremony, they visited Mount Jieshan, returned to Anyi, visited Longmen, explored the salt fields, climbed Lishan, ascended Xiyue, gazed upon the vast lands, and conjured up images of the glorious Tang and Yu dynasties. Sima Xiangru felt that it was useless to envy others fishing by the river, so he wrote "Ode to the East River" to advise the emperor. This is written to ensure posterity remembers this glorious occasion:
That late spring, the ancestors' remains were to be buried, the spirits were to be worshipped, and a ceremony was to be held at the eastern suburbs of Fenying. I hope that future generations can remember this grand occasion and bless their descendants, just like receiving the blessings of the gods; it is truly magnificent, indescribable in words! So he ordered his ministers to don sacrificial clothing, prepare the spirit car, and then drive the vehicle decorated with green phoenixes, pulled by six magnificent horses, waving flags that streamed like shooting stars, holding bows and arrows that shone like Sirius. He raised the black flag symbolizing the sun high, lifted the flag on the left, and pierced the clouds. Waving a whip like lightning, driving wheels that thundered, ringing a huge bell, and raising five flags. Xihe presides over the sun, Yan Lun guards the spirit car, the wind howls, and the spirits appear; thousands of carriages and horses create a cacophony, tens of thousands of riders gallop, the scene is extraordinary, and the heavens and the earth tremble. The spirit car crosses mountains and rivers, passing through the Wei River and the Jing River. The very spirits of the Qin quaked with fear, and even the ghosts of the underworld were unnerved; the river gods were in a panic, and the mountain gods of Huashan felt weakened. Finally, they arrived at Fenying Palace, where the atmosphere crackled with profound solemnity and awe.
The spirits have been worshipped, and the five officiants are lined up one after another, as heaven and earth, mysterious and vast, are about to inherit the ancestral legacy. The spirit car then slowly moves forward, enjoying a scenic tour of Jieshan. I miss Duke Wen's diligent governance and love for the people, admire Da Yu's achievements in controlling the waters at Longmen, sympathize with the hardships suffered by the people during the floods, and praise his grand undertaking of dredging the nine rivers. Climbing to the top of Lishan, I leisurely survey all directions, reflecting on the traditions of the past and seeing the fields worked in the days of Yu and Shun. Gazing at Mount Song during the reign of Emperor Ku, I reminisce about the peaceful and prosperous times of the Zhou Dynasty. I lingered at Pengcheng, reluctant to leave. I sensed the harshness of Nanchao and the bounty of Binqi. I ride the emerald dragon across the Yellow River, climbing the dangerous peaks of Xiyue. I was greeted by swirling mists, the land refreshed by the morning dew; the environment is quiet and beautiful, the scenery vast and prosperous. I call upon the wind god to travel north and south, and order the rain god to bring rain from east to west. I felt at one with heaven and earth, utterly free.
Ah, I have finally returned! Thinking about the territory of the Han Dynasty, those puny kingdoms couldn't hold a candle to it! This time, I'll build a foundation as unshakeable as the Qian Kun hexagram! Driving divine beasts and accompanied by various spirits, we will work together to govern the country well and use the Six Classics to praise the prosperous times! This would eclipse even the grandest ancient temple rites! I've surpassed the Five Emperors and walked in the footsteps of the Three Sovereigns! I've started, so who's to say I can't reach my goal?
So, when I went hunting in December, the crew was huge. I thought of the palaces, pavilions, ponds, hunting grounds, forests, and swamps of ancient emperors and kings. They had everything they needed for religious ceremonies, entertaining guests, and daily life, but they never encroached on the land cultivated by the common people. At that time, every household had surplus food, the country thrived, and everyone was well-off. Dew fell in their courtyards, sweet spring water flowed in their fields, phoenixes nested in their trees, yellow dragons played in their ponds, qilins appeared in their hunting grounds, and divine birds perched in their forests. Emperor Yu and his guys, Yi and Yao, worked together, and everything blossomed; King Tang focused on agriculture, and there was an abundance of food everywhere; King Wen had a hundred-mile hunting ground – still too small for the people! King Xuan had forty miles – that was plenty big enough. There's a world of difference between helping people and screwing them over! Emperor Wu of Han embarked on extensive construction projects, building the Shanglin Garden, extending south to Yichun, Dinghu, Yusu, and Kunwu, along the Nanshan Mountains to the west, to Changyang and Wuzhu, north around Huangshan, and near the Wei River to the east – the whole place had a circumference of several hundred miles. He also dug the Kunming Pond, modeled after the Dianchi, and built Jianzhang Palace, Fengque, Shenming Terrace, Ganquan Palace, as well as Jiantai and Taiye Pool, all on a grand scale and ridiculously lavish. But he did allocate some land for the common people to cultivate. However, all that hunting, traveling, military stuff, and building – it was insanely expensive! I'm worried future generations will do the same thing, so I wrote this 'Hunting Ode' to warn everyone:
Some say, who's to say actors and farmers are any less important than emperors? Is this statement correct? In fact, if everyone does their job well, what's the point of comparing them? Is Mount Tai only seventy zhang (approximately 23 meters) high? Do not both Yin and Yang exist? Therefore, those who establish their foundation and inherit rule have not been able to achieve perfection. Who can fully understand the good and bad involved? So, this hymn was written:
"Hymn"
Radiant and divine, dwelling in a mystical palace, his wealth rivals the earth, his majesty, the heavens. Even the great Duke Huan of Qi and King Zhuang of Chu weren't worthy to drive his chariot, let alone the other way around. He surpasses the decline of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, rising high and prosperous; he has experienced the golden age of the Five Emperors and the Three Sovereigns; he takes morality as his teacher and benevolence as his friend.
In the depths of autumn, the cold between heaven and earth is chilling, and all things begin to converge, preparing for winter. The emperor goes to the sacred fields to cultivate the land, reclaiming the land to the north, in accordance with the laws of heaven, inheriting and developing the rule of Zhuanxu and Xuanyuan. So he ordered the Yu people to manage the fields, expanding eastward to Kunlun Mountain and westward to Tanghe (a place name). Granaries overflowed with grain; soldiers lined the roads, clearing brush and leveling the land. The army marched from the Qian and Wei rivers, a powerful force sweeping towards Feng and Hao. Their relentless advance filled the land, day and night.
Then, they used Hulusang (a place name) as the headquarters of the military camp, with a hundred-mile perimeter, its gate serving as the palace entrance. Outside the camp, to the south lay the sea, while to the north was Yuyuan, a vast expanse of towering mountains and steep ridges. The main camp was situated south of the poplar trees and east of the Kunming spiritual marsh. Warriors as brave as Ben and Yu, clad in armor and carrying feathered arrows, held precious swords as they lined up in formation, their numbers reaching tens of thousands. The remaining soldiers wielded long spears, unfurled large nets, and waved flags, creating a spectacle that dazzled like a celestial display. Blue clouds rolled overhead while red auspicious clouds intertwined, connecting Kunlun Mountain, scattered like stars in the night sky, surging like tumultuous waves in every direction. Long spears formed the gates, and the bright moon stood as a sentinel. The planets influenced fate, while the heavenly bow shot forth, illuminating colorful and intricate pathways. Magnificent vehicles and lightweight chariots flowed continuously, traversing mountains to reach distant lands, gathering on the plateau. Cavalry galloped in all directions, each soldier fulfilling their role, coming and going in an endless stream, their movements sometimes bright, sometimes shadowy, weaving through the lush green trees.
With a flourish, the emperor rolled out of the palace, all smiles, as a grand ceremony began: the colossal Hong bell boomed, and nine-banded flags unfurled. White tiger banners snapped in the wind while the emperor rode in a magnificent carriage, with Chi You's totem flanking the carriage, and Meng Gong leading the vanguard to clear the way. The high flags depicted celestial symbols, and the fluttering military flags embroidered with star patterns dispelled the gloom along the way, majestic like spitting fire. The procession, a mighty river of men and banners, snaked through eight military strongholds. Wherever they went, Fei Lian, Yun Shi, and their celestial armies, a dragon of banners, blotted out the sun. The procession advanced through the Western Garden bathed in sunlight, passing through Ping Le and bamboo forests, trampling on orchids and fragrant grasses, all the way in a grand manner. Beacon fires blazed, chariots and horses raised a cloud of dust, as thousands upon thousands of soldiers and their mounts thundered forward. The elite troops, a sea of steel, thundered forward, their hooves shaking the very earth. The procession stretched on for thousands of miles, a seemingly endless tide of power.
Next, those brave hunters, coming from all directions, each with their own purpose, rushed to the grand hunt. They hunted huge wild boars, rhinoceroses, yaks, and elks. They killed giant apes, captured black macaques, leaped through the air, and crossed mountains and ridges. They climbed steep peaks, passed through deep valleys, their shouts echoing, whipping up dust devils in the valleys and forests. When they had secured their exotic quarry, they cut down pines and cypresses and picked wild pears; they hunted elusive beasts and chased agile birds; they stepped on giant snake heads and tied long pythons; they caught red leopards and subdued elephants and rhinoceroses; they crossed steep mountains and passed through Tangbei. A vast encampment arose, figures distinct, with banners billowing like the peaks of Mount Tai and Xiong'er Mountain. The hunters returned with full loads, their bounty seeming almost mythical, their abundant achievements spread all over the world.
The weather was clear and sunny. Feng Meng and his troops were drawn up in battle array, and Yi, the archer, shot down the sun, driving a magnificent chariot, its radiance illuminating the heavens and earth. Wang Shu, the sun god, guided his celestial chariot to Shang Lan. The army changed formation, continuously advancing, with strict and orderly troops. The seemingly endless camps stretched as far as the eye could see, a dizzying expanse, with divine weapons and infinite power. Terror seized the enemy, their ranks collapsing before the onslaught. The air itself crackled with power; no bird dared to fly overhead, no beast to cross the battlefield. The battle raged; war chariots thundered across the field, brave cavalrymen charging on leopards, a whirlwind of steel and fury, their pursuit of celestial treasures relentless. The enemy's screams echoed across the battlefield, a fleeting sound swallowed by the tide of victory. In the end, the enemy was utterly routed, their army annihilated, leaving only silence, a stark contrast to the jubilant cries of victory that still echoed in the air. The soldiers were all stunned, witnessing this brutal battle; the aftermath was a scene of carnage, with rhinos and wild bulls clashing, bears and fierce beasts tearing at each other, while terrified soldiers scattered in panicked flight. The enemy army was in chaos, suffering heavy casualties, with corpses scattered everywhere.
Next, after the war, the creatures taken captive gathered near the Jingming Pavilion, where there was a beautiful treasure pool. Fed by the rivers and Qiliang Mountain, the pool's water surged, creating a magnificent scene that seemed endless. Everywhere, priceless pearls and jade glittered. Various rare and exotic animals played in the pool, while Han women were seen swimming in the water, alongside many mysterious and unpredictable monsters. Xuanluan, peacocks, kingfishers, and other exotic birds perched by the pool, their calls—along with those of the water birds—echoing like thunder. So, expert divers were dispatched to dive into the water and battle various aquatic creatures. They bravely broke through the ice, dived into deep pools, explored caves, wrestled dragons, outwitted otters, hunted giant turtles, and even snagged a Lingqi. They explored the caves and Cangwu Mountain, riding exotic fish across the Pengli Marsh, searching for the legendary Yuyuan. They sought the luminous pearl, uncovered the body of the bright moon pearl, and subdued the god of the Luo River, ultimately presenting these treasures to Qu Yuan and Peng Xu.
Now, let me tell you about this Hongsheng guy. He’s an amazing scholar. Sometimes he dresses in magnificent official robes, and other times he switches to ordinary clothes. He was all over Tang Dynasty laws and regulations, fixed up the music and poetry, and was humble and polite in the court. His reputation spread far and wide; people thought he was practically a god. Even the northern Di people heard of his goodness, and his fame for military achievements shook the neighboring countries in the south. So, those fur-clad northern lords and the leaders of the nomadic tribes all offered treasures and bowed down to him. When he went on tour, there were huge hunting grounds in front and the continuous Lu Mountains behind. Even the big shots at court, like Yang Zhu and Mozi, were saying, "The guy was a saint! Even in the golden ages of Yao, Shun, Yu, and King Cheng of Zhou, they couldn't hold a candle to him! In ancient times, emperors would visit Mount Tai and sacrifice at Liangshan. Who else in this world is like him?"
Although the emperor humbly refused, he still agreed. He planned to go hunting in Sanling Mountain, have a drink at the Li Quan springs, explore the cave of the Yellow Dragon, catch a glimpse of the phoenix's nest, visit the unicorn's enclosure, and wander through the sacred bird's woods; he explored Yunmeng Marsh, spent time at Mengzhu Marsh, not going to the luxurious Zhanghua Terrace, but to Lingtai for sightseeing; he seldom visited the detached palace and rarely curtailed his leisure. He didn't care about the decoration of the palace, nor did he pursue the carving of the woodworkers, but cared about the agricultural production of his subjects, encouraged everyone to work hard, and required that they not violate the laws. He was also concerned that the poor could not enjoy abundant resources, so he opened the royal gardens, took out the reserves of the national treasury, promoted moral values, hunted in the divine hunting grounds, and observed the conditions of his subjects; he released wild chickens and rabbits, retrieved hunting nets, allowing the deer and the people to share resources, all to achieve this goal. Therefore, his profound and broad virtue, as well as the strategy of prospering the country, surpassed the Three Emperors and the Five Emperors; wasn't this the height of virtue? The serious-minded officials maintained proper court etiquette, promoted the cause of the wise and sage, and did not indulge in the royal gardens and extravagant hunting. So, the emperor returned to the simplicity of the Weiyang Palace, abandoning the extravagance of the A Fang Palace.
