Chapter 259 — The Human Emperor, the Dao Sovereign, and the Tathagata

"Many people do not understand. Reform what? Revolutionize what? Things were fine before, were they not? Everyone lived well, in harmony and joy. And now you reform, you revolutionize — is it not all for the sake of your own ambition as emperor? You offend the great clans and noble houses, you offend those sects — is it not all so that Jingping's territory might grow a little larger? And now heaven-sent calamities and man-made disasters come year after year, and it is all your fault, all the fault of the reforms. This is a fallacy!"

At Bazhou Prefecture, Emperor Yanfeng walked the streets with a host of civil and military ministers. Watching the people queued before one charity gruel stall after another, he went over to a stall; the clerk ladling out the gruel was about to kneel, and Yanfeng waved a hand: "It is freezing cold. There is no need for so much ceremony. How much does one person get?"

"Replying to Your Majesty: one bowl of rice gruel for an adult, two steamed buns, one spoonful of dried vegetables."

Yanfeng nodded, told him to step aside, and took up the ladle himself to serve the refugees, the court's civil and military officials crowding behind him. Ladling as he spoke, he went on: "Those who lived well before were never the common people! Minister of Agriculture, tell them: before the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping's reforms, how many people could one mu of good farmland feed?"

The Minister of Agriculture said hurriedly: "Before the reforms, one mu of good farmland yielded three hundred and thirty catties of coarse grain a year. But at that time the land was all in the hands of the great clans, the temples, and the Daoist monasteries; the farmers had no land of their own. A farm household of seven or eight souls would till eighty mu, growing grain, fruit, vegetables, and medicinal herbs. They toiled the whole year, planting two crops, and at year's end had no surplus — barely enough to fill their bellies, with meat perhaps once or twice a month; and when disaster struck, they starved. In those years many of the old folk, in a famine year, would throw themselves into the river or go up into the mountains of their own accord, so as not to drag their families down with them. And meanwhile the great clans, the temples, and the Daoist monasteries laid up grain beyond counting, and money beyond counting."

Yanfeng said: "Eighty mu of land to feed a household of seven or eight, a whole year of bitter toil — where did the grain go? Now tell them again: after the reforms, how many people can one mu of land feed?"

The Minister of Agriculture went on: "His Majesty commanded the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping to carry out the reforms, taking all the land under heaven into public hands; the great clans, the temples, and the Daoist monasteries were forbidden to hold land. Each adult male received eighty mu, twenty of it good farmland. In recent years the population has multiplied several times over and the realm has grown considerably, so the rule was changed: each adult male receives forty mu, ten of it good farmland. The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping set the martial artists and the men of divine powers to work at farming; drought and flood alike were made safe — rain in drought, drainage in flood — and so for a hundred and sixty years there has been no famine. Today the yield is eight hundred and twenty catties per mu, the land tax two dan, and a farm household no longer finds it costly to eat meat."

"Three hundred and thirty catties. Eight hundred and twenty catties."

Yanfeng pressed two steamed buns into a starving man's bowl, ladled out a spoonful of dried vegetables, and said with feeling: "What is a Buddha? This is a Buddha — a living Buddha, a Buddha born among men, the Buddha of all the common people! Not you, with the title of Tathagata on your head or the title of Dao Sovereign, speaking some chicken-soup words to soothe the soul — that does not make you a Buddha or a Dao Sovereign! Minister of Agriculture, I ask you again: since the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping's reforms are so good, and there is more grain, why is it that when disaster strikes there is still famine?"

The Minister of Agriculture looked troubled and hesitated: "This..."

"Speak!"

"Yes. Besides the population having multiplied several times, there is also the matter of meat, and the matter of war. Feeding livestock requires grain; the army feeds strange beasts, drills troops, wages war — all require grain and fodder. But the chief cause is the circulation of farmland. Some farmland has been bought up again by the great clans and powerful houses and by the sects and temples, and become landlord estates."

The Minister of Agriculture said: "The grain has gone back into their hands. The last sect rebellion — it was because they had money and grain in hand that they dared so much. And this famine should never have grown so great; is it not because after the war the treasury is empty, and these great clans, powerful houses, sects, and temples are unwilling to release their grain? The last sect rebellion caused too great a disturbance..."

Yanfeng turned his head and glanced at the assembled ministers: "The great clans, powerful houses, sects, temples, and Daoist monasteries — once they sat high above, seated in the heavens, eating delicacies and rare dishes every day, speaking of wind and flowers and snow, discoursing on the Dao and divine powers, debating the immortality of gods and immortals. The farmers fed them — and who among them would so much as lend a hand to those farmers? And if the farmers would not submit, they simply sent down calamity and tribulation! Is this snow disaster strange? Not at all. When the sects ruled the nations in the past, such snow disasters were common enough! Only it was not gods sending disaster or Heaven sending calamity, but the sects sending disaster and calamity, to make the common people submit and dare not rebel!"

"The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping reformed, and made the sects labor for the farmers, labor for the merchants — and they were displeased and would not do it. The Imperial Preceptor reformed again, opening lesser academies, grand academies, and great academies, passing the sects' own arts on to the common world, letting the common world do the work — and they were even more displeased. They wanted to rebel, to kill! Little do they know that eight generations back, their own ancestors were all farmers, not one of them anything special!"

"You too have seen it clearly and heard it clearly. This time I strike off their heads; next time, if you do as they have done, I will strike off your heads too! The officials I want are not these sects lording it on high, these 'masters' and 'Buddhas.' The officials I want are those who can do solid work! Scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants — the scholar must be able to work for the farmer, the artisan, the merchant; must do things! There are still some scholar-officials at court who think themselves a cut above. Damn it — Historian, allow me one coarse word. — Damn it, every day chattering and prattling, thinking themselves so pure and lofty! I could wish to strike off their heads!"

The civil and military ministers bowed their heads and dared not speak.

The two historians exchanged a glance, both showing dismay; the elder of them said softly: "Your Majesty, the Son of Heaven should be careful with his words."

Yanfeng said: "I do not often use coarse words. If I were not furious, would I curse? Historians, bear with me."

Just then the queue for food came to a big monk, holding a golden alms bowl, who said with a smile: "Your Majesty speaks very well. But now that the disaster has come, how to stop the disaster and spare the common people suffering — that is the true way."