Chapter 4: The Political Climate

Liu Bang and Gao Huan were often compared by the people of Qi due to their many similarities.

Both of their wives came from powerful clans, and in their rise to power, they both relied somewhat on the strength of their maternal families. Because of Gao Huan’s background, his dependence on the Lou family was greater than Liu Bang’s reliance on the Lü clan. Consequently, Lou Zhaojun held far more influence over Qi than Lü Zhi did.

However, Liu Bang’s talents and achievements were incomparable to Gao Huan’s, allowing him little need to heed Lü Zhi’s wishes. Still, Lü Zhi, backing the crown prince, was a formidable force in the Western Han political arena. After Liu Bang’s death, she seized control of the Han court, enfeoffing the Lü clan as kings. Her biological son, Liu Ying, was merely a tool to realize her ambitions for power.

Liu Bang once intended to establish Prince Zhao, Liu Ruyi, as crown prince, but his plan failed, and the victory remained with Lü Zhi and Liu Ying. Yet Lü Zhi harbored no thought of mercy or future goodwill. Driven by a fierce thirst for power, she poisoned Liu Ruyi and turned Concubine Qi into a human swine, utterly extinguishing any hope of her enemies’ resurgence.

Her actions went too far, however. When she showed her macabre artwork to Liu Ying, he was terrified, bursting into tears and declaring, “Such deeds are not human. As the son of the Empress Dowager, I can never govern the realm.” From then on, he drank and caroused daily, neglecting state affairs as he hastened toward a death by illness.

To consolidate her power, Lü Zhi arranged for Liu Ying to marry her own niece, Zhang Yan, as empress.

When Zhang Yan failed to conceive, Lü Zhi resorted to a cruel scheme: she poisoned one of Liu Ying’s concubines, then declared the concubine’s child the crown prince, falsely claiming he was Empress Zhang’s offspring, thus securing the power of her maternal relatives firmly in her grasp.

When the child grew and discovered Zhang Yan was not his birth mother and that his true mother had been killed by Lü Zhi, he vowed revenge. Upon learning this, Lü Zhi placed him under house arrest, and soon after deposed and executed him, then installed another younger son of Liu Ying as heir.

Lou Zhaojun was practically a mirror image of Lü Zhi. The only difference was that Lü Zhi bore only one imperial son, Liu Ying, so she was highly wary of all of Liu Bang’s children, and puppet emperors could only be chosen from Liu Ying’s descendants.

In contrast, Lou Zhaojun, having learned from Lü Zhi’s lessons, produced six sons for Gao Huan in one go, allowing her to easily replace and retrain heirs. As for Gao Yin and Gao Baonian, they were minor figures, mere expendable pawns.

Using historical allegory to reflect the present was a Han cultural habit. Though the Xianbei were brave and skilled in warfare, their scholarly accomplishments were beyond their reach. What was most vexing was that those Xianbei who had learned to read became like Han people—secretive, fond of wordplay, and veiled in sarcasm. This was one reason the Xianbei detested the Han, feeling they had been tainted by their weakness.

The imperial Gao clan had considerable knowledge but dared not delve too deeply or speak too openly. With a strengthened version of Empress Lü beside them, too much talk was dangerous.

On the other hand, the Han aristocracy, attracted by the new order established by Northern Qi, sought to assist and advise the new regime. Meanwhile, Gao Yang continued to suppress the Xianbei nobility, favoring Han officials instead. This gave Han people a golden opportunity to rise within Qi, explaining why Yang Yin of the Hongnong Yang clan was willing to serve Gao Yang diligently.

In this Han-era story, Gao Yang was like Liu Ying, but Gao Yin was not the “younger son of Liu Ying.” The true favorites of Empress Lou were her other biological sons.

Gao Yang smiled brightly and remarked, “As you say, if it were not for Empress Lü, Emperor Hui would never have ascended the throne!”

“Indeed, before his accession, that was the case. To secure Emperor Hui’s position, Empress Lü consulted Liu Hou, having the Four Elders of Shangshan accompany Emperor Hui, convincing Emperor Gaozu that the crown prince had sufficient support, thus allowing his ascension. But after taking the throne, the situation changed.”

Yang Yin answered calmly, “Emperor Hui, as the Son of Heaven, should have consolidated power and ruled with wise ministers and generals. Yet, though benevolent, his hesitant nature made him subject to Empress Lü’s control, ultimately leading to the turmoil of the Lü clan.”

Only Yang Yin dared speak so boldly, even provoking Gao Yang slightly. As the prime minister of Qi and Gao Yang’s chief minister, comparable to Zhuge Liang of Shu Han or Wang Meng of Former Qin, Yang Yin was a towering figure. If Qi were a unified empire, Gao Yang’s death would leave Yang Yin as the regent prime minister, a predecessor to great statesmen like Yang Jian and Zhang Juzheng.

Thus, the empress dowager’s ambition to govern was an obstacle on Yang Yin’s path to power.

“You flatter me,” Gao Yang responded.

Though he found Yang Yin’s words difficult to refute, Gao Yang still lightly scolded him to show he remained aligned with his mother, even though in truth he longed to send his own mother to meet the ancestors and had nearly struck her several times.

Despite his drunkenness, Gao Yang’s grip on power was instinctive. The fear of losing authority had seeped into his bones, making clear that if the empress dowager did not support his sons’ succession, whether Yin or Shaode, their fate would be the same.

Just like Sima Yan of Western Jin, who insisted on passing the throne to his foolish son Sima Zhong, plunging the realm into chaos. At that time, Sima Yan had a better choice—to pass the throne to his brother Sima You, returning the line of succession to their uncle Sima Shi’s branch.

For Gao Yang, choosing the same path as Sima Yan meant...

“In that case, I wish to pass the throne to Prince Changshan. What say you?”

Yang Yin reacted swiftly, his knees trembling as he knelt.

Like the ominous signal of a monarch about to slay, an invisible dread swept the assembly, causing many to collapse to the ground, creating a rippling, colorful wave. Gao Yan, feigning drunkenness, almost leapt up but gripped his legs so tightly they bled, forcing himself to suppress the urge to flee.

In stark contrast, many nobles bore expressions of delight. Compared to the twelve-year-old boy, the talented and dignified Gao Yan was far more acceptable. Not only was he Empress Lou’s legitimate son, but he was also familiar with the Xianbei nobility and better represented their interests.

Gao Yang glanced sideways, observing and noting each person, then slowly said, “Prince Changshan is my maternal younger brother. We grew up together and share a deep bond.”

As he spoke, he approached Gao Yan. In the Golden Phoenix Terrace, only the sound of this man’s footsteps echoed, deeply imprinted in everyone’s mind: “Yan’an is intelligent and upright. Though I have punished many while drunk, only Yan’an often advises me. In this light, Yan’an possesses the qualities of an emperor.”

Yan’an was Gao Yan’s courtesy name. Gao Yan felt a sudden dizziness, unable to discern whether Gao Yang’s words were sincere or a test. The pressure was immense, like a drunken man overwhelmed.

With a single finger, Gao Yang helped him sober up, the dry touch and scraping of nails gently stirring the left side of Gao Yan’s face, sending ripples through his body.

“Second Brother… Your Majesty!” Gao Yan shook his head repeatedly, stammering with emotion, “I must not, I dare not entertain such thoughts, lest Heaven’s thunder strike me down! Or the fires of Heaven consume me!”

Gao Yan fervently professed his loyalty, but Gao Yang’s large hand came down, covering his face. Gao Yan dared not move or speak further.

Gao Yang first scratched and stroked Gao Yan’s cheek, then moved upward, undoing his hair bun. His five fingers parted and roamed freely across Gao Yan’s scalp, playing with his hair.

Gao Yan’s face froze, uncertain how to react. Beads of sweat formed upon his brow. Witnessing this strange scene, Prince Changguang Gao Zhan quietly chuckled inwardly.

Finally, Yang Yin mustered courage and stepped forward, saying, “The sovereign is drunk, and we are all weary. Perhaps it is best to end the banquet here.”

Gao Yang fell silent for a moment, then said, “Passing the throne to Prince Changshan—what do you say?”

This hardly seemed like a genuine intention to abdicate.

Gao Yan cast a pleading look. Yang Yin sighed slightly; he wished for Gao Yan’s death but not such a violent and extreme one.

“The crown prince’s tutor once told me that the crown prince is the foundation of the state and must not be easily disturbed. The sovereign has had three drinks and keeps mentioning passing the throne to Prince Changshan. If repeated too often, ministers will grow suspicious of your true intentions.”

“If this is truly the sovereign’s will, it should be discussed and decided openly in court, then implemented decisively. Such matters cannot be joked about or casually uttered at banquets, as it only unsettles the nation.”

“Please, Your Majesty, issue a decree.”