Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven Changing Name and Taking the Examination

After the Heir Apparent’s death, Wen was forced to seek assistance from Prime Minister Pei. Recognizing Wen’s worth during his attendance upon Li Yong, Pei attempted to support him by facilitating his passing of the civil service examination. The result was that, in the autumn of the fourth year of Kaicheng (839), Wen took the Metropolitan Prefecture examination and was conferred the academic title “Equivalent to Passing”, yet finally “failed to pass”. For all his efforts, he found himself once more completely frustrated, and was forced to flee to the south. To illustrate these details, we will examine the political situation after Li Yong’s death in search of further information.

“Equivalent to Passing” Yet “Failed to Pass”

We first review a portion of Wen’s “Epistle Presented to Prime Minister Pei”:

With my name secretly listed for arrest, I could hardly benefit from imperial favor. Together with the embers I am to be thrown away [like a burned zither], and compared with insects [that also have their share of imperial favor], I am more hopeless.

Wen had come to a most critical turn in his life. The eunuchs would conspire against him more determinedly because of his former role of a most confidential assistant of the Heir Apparent, and of his present status of a potential witness to their crimes. As a man of outspoken nature, Wen would have undoubtedly divulged what he knew to his friends and foiling the eunuchs’ attempt to keep their murder of the Heir a secret. As a result, filled with fresh hatreds and old enmity for Wen, the eunuchs impatiently sought to take his life. It was under such circumstances that Wen’s name was put on the blacklist for arrest, forcing him to desperately attempt to escape. In his “Epistle Presented to Drafter Pei”, Wen alluded once more to this state of affairs, revealing what he had to do in order not to fall victim to the eunuchs:

Since I have no longer an “eastern host” to depend upon, and the southern airs could not last through to the end, I felt like as though I had fallen into an abyss and was cast adrift on a vast sea. I did not know how I could find one to seek refuge with, nor did I see where I might ask for lodging. By risking the lives of Sun Song’s hundred domestics, I clung to my precarious existence; and like the singular case of Wang Zun, I came to bay amidst the scandalmongers (某自東道無依, 南風不競; 如擠井谷, 若泛滄溟. 莫知投足之方, 不識棲身之所. 孫嵩百口, 系以存亡; 王尊一身, 困于賢佞).

After the Heir died and Wen lost his “eastern host”, he was facing a life-threatening situation such that “The southern airs cannot last through to the end”. ¹ Wen likened himself to Zhao Qi (趙岐, 110? -201), while at the same time, he regarded Drafter Pei as a Sun Song (孫嵩). Wen used this analogy because, in order to escape arrest by the eunuchs, Zhao once sought asylum with Sun Song, who said: “I am Sun Binshi (賓石, his style) of Beihai, and with the hundred domestics of my family, I will certainly help you”. He then hid Zhao in his double partition wall.² Wen’s predicament was also similar to that of Wang Zun who once suffered from malignant rumors in the court ³. Here the allusion to Zhao Qi becomes more meaningful than it first appears to be once we realize that Wen changed his name to Wen Qi when taking the examination, in token of his admiration for Zhao and his determined opposition to the eunuchs. Here we see a vivid picture of the insecure life Wen led under the eunuchs’ political persecution. For him the main problem was now how to escape with his life rather than how to search for political advancement.

Under such circumstances, how could Wen take part in the civil service examination? It was impossible for Wen to take the examination openly. But Wen was not a man easily reconciled to failure. By means of unstinting effort he was able to enlist the help of a few ministers. What ensued from this was another climax in his life: he was permitted to sit for the Metropolitan Prefecture Examination under a changed name and recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture (achieved the academic title “Equivalent to Passing”). However, he then was rejected by the Ministry of Rites (“Failed to Pass” after all). To be accepted as “Equivalent to Passing” was no ordinary success. It illustrates Wen’s unremitting tenacity in his struggle against adversity and his appeal to his contemporaries for social justice. Before proceeding to the details of how Wen changed his name, we need to clarify the degree to which a Recommendation from the Metropolitan Prefecture spelled political success at the time.

In the Late Tang times, among the Presented Scholars, i. e., the so-called “Scholars Presented as Local Tribute” (鄉貢進士), those recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture were considered special. In “Metropolitan Prefecture Recommendation” (京兆府解送) of the Tangzhiyan (2: 13), we read:

The Divine Prefecture Recommendation is the so-called “Equivalent to Passing”. Ever since the eras of Kaiyuan and Tianbao, all the first ten candidates in order of excellence have been so designated. It is required that the title be well deserved, to help to promote the Confucian teachings. The Examination Administrator shall make his choice among them, and he might even accept all, or at least seven or eight out of ten [as Presented Scholars]. If things differed from this, the Metropolitan Prefecture would address an official letter to the Examination Administrator’s office asking for the reasons why the recommendations were denied (神州解送, 自開元天寶之際, 率得以在上十人, 謂之等第. 必求名實相副, 以滋教化之源. 小宗伯倚而選之, 或至渾化; 不然, 十得其七八. 茍異于是, 則往往牒貢院請落由).

From this we can elicit three important points:

First, to be recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture meant having a much better chance to be passed as a Presented Scholar than via the “local tribute” in general. Such was the case because the Metropolitan Prefecture, the capital area, was where the final decision was made concerning the final acceptance of Presented Scholars. Here, most candidates strove to influence the decision-making process, by “paying respects to and asking favor from patrons of authority and power” (造請權要), or, in the parlance of that time, they tried “to straighten the key links” (通關節) ⁴–to smooth away obstacles and get powerful support on their path towards achievement of the Presented Scholar degree. As a result of such mechanisms, “Those having gained [the recommendation] soared to the Heavenly Precincts and advanced towards ‘the Orchid Ministries’”–for these, it was actually the beginning of ‘six month’s ascension’” (得之者摶躍云衢, 階梯蘭省, 即六月沖霄之漸也). ⁵ This Recommendation thus became a direct route to advancement followed by many candidates, because of its high proportion of accepted Presented Scholars to the recommended candidates.

Second, this Recommendation was definitely not easy to obtain, but once it was obtained, it would not be easily denied by the Ministry of Ritual, since the Metropolitan Prefecture might address inquiries to the Examination Administrator about why any candidate it had recommended was denied. To be recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture was the expected outcome of the “straightening” of all “key links”, thus in due course, it was very naturally considered “Equivalent to Passing” as a Presented Scholar.

Third, in the fourth year of Kaicheng, among all candidates recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture, only Wen was rejected. This was a remarkable exception to the general rule, and must have had its unique causes. Given the power of the eunuchs, to become a Presented Scholar one would also have to “straighten the key links” with them, or at least not be at odds with them, for although the eunuchs were not in direct charge of examination matters, their influence over the acceptance or rejection of the candidates should not be discounted. Wen’s failure certainly had to do with the eunuchs’ unwillingness to let him succeed. By investigating Wen’s particular case, apart from understanding his special efforts to obtain a Presented Scholar degree, we can also see his deeply rooted connections in the central bureaucracy, and, above all, the workings of the eunuchs, serving to always thwart his efforts.

The Metropolitan Prefecture Recommendation was so controversial that, during the Late Tang times it was not always in effect.⁶ Gaining the chance to be recommended, Wen surmounted numerous difficulties; after failing to be accepted as a Presented Scholar, he experienced new frustrations. Such was the tragicomedy of Wen’s life. Preparing to sit for this examination, Wen had to study the classics extensively, as expressed in “Hundred-Rhyme Poem” in the following passage:

11 It was indeed seeking fish by climbing a tree, 定為魚緣木,

And for a second rabbit, by the stump I’d waited. 曾因兔守株.

12 Up to “five wagonfuls” were piled my books, 五車堆縹帙,

Within “three paths” I closed my strung gate.⁷ 三徑闔繩樞.

13 I then joined company with many an eminent soul, 適與群英集,

Only for the offer of a good price, I stipulate. 將期善價沽.

It was of course after his attendance on the Heir that Wen seriously began his preparations for the Metropolitan Prefecture Examination. He buried himself in books behind a closed door, with a view to looking for “the offer of a good price”. ⁸ Normally, people with great talent would be almost assured of success. However, in Wen’s case, this might not happen.

In order to be recommended for the Metropolitan Examination, Wen of course had to “straighten the key links”. After Pei Du’s death in the spring of 839, powerful assistance from this source was no longer available. Consequently, Wen must have sought special favor from other authorities, especially the Governors of the Metropolitan Prefecture (京兆尹), who supervised the examination. In extant sources there is some evidence that this is what he did. Prior to becoming “Equivalent to Passing”, Wen had requested help from men such as Vice-Minister Jiang (Jiang Xi, 蔣系), Secretary Academician (Zhou Chi, 周墀) and Prime Minister Cui (Cui Gong, 崔珙). ⁹ All of these men might have assisted in Wen’s efforts to obtain the title “Equivalent to Passing”, as is suggested in the following passages.

In the “Epistle Presented to Secretary Academician” (上學士舍人啟), we read:

Now, having been recommended by the Divine Prefecture, I am to compete with other men of letters for excellence; however, holding in vain my inkstone and mat, I do not know where to go (今乃受薦神州, 爭雄墨客. 空持硯席, 莫識津途).

We see that after Wen was recommended by the Metropolitan (Divine) Prefecture (839), he was at a loss about what to do next. While in his “Epistle Presented to Vice-Minister Jiang”, Wen wrote:

I once visited you with the calling card of a student, and presented you with a letter to a teacher. I was flattered to be in your good graces and won others’ high praise. Then I sought in the literary garden for recognition and subjected myself to the Divine Prefecture’s selection. I was subsequently able to express my gratitude to you with a bundle of fresh fodder, ¹⁰ like a decayed broom just refurbished (頃常撰刺門人, 投書宅師. 蒙垂盼飾, 致在褒稱. 既而文圃求知, 神州就選. 遂得生芻表意, 腐帚生姿).

Apparently Jiang had appreciated Wen’s talent, and helped him to be recommended by the Metropolitan Prefecture. That is why, when recalling the past in this epistle, Wen still cherished a heartfelt gratitude for his help. The same event was recounted in his “Epistle Presented to Prime Minister Cui” (上崔相公啟):

When I came for your Bright Mirror and looked up to your Great Excellency.... It surpassed my wish that you would help an awkward orphan like me and take pains to recharge me with hope and life. You chose and promoted me from the mud and dust, and raised me up to hazy heavens.... Thus for a time I was revived at the Dragon Gate, no longer a cornered fish; and like an oriole soaring out from his valley, was enabled to be in company with those flying on high.¹¹...Nevertheless, I have vainly rejoiced in the occasion of your changing the music scale, ¹² but have not yet seen any omen that I can offer my devoted service (既而竊仰洪鈞, 來窺皎鏡 …豈謂不遺孤拙, 曲假生成. 拔于泥滓之中, 致在煙霄之上. 遂使龍門奮發, 不作窮鱗; 鶯谷翩翻, 終陪逸翰. 空乘變律之機, 未得捐軀之兆).

Again this passage makes reference to the fact that, having surmounted all political difficulties, Wen had succeeded in becoming “Equivalent to Passing”. It also shows that Prime Minister Cui had rendered Wen great service directed towards gaining this academic title. However, after this initial achievement, Wen fell short of success in the decisive final stage, because more influential support was lacking. Therefore, we can infer that it was after Wen became “Equivalent to Passing” (in the autumn of 839), and before Wen finally gave up his hope (in the winter of 840), that he presented this epistle to Cui. Since it happened to be “the occasion of changing the music scale” (Cui had just ascended to the Prime-Ministership), Wen hoped to enlist Cui’s assistance one more time; but to his frustration, he “vainly rejoiced in the occasion”, because Cui could help him no further. According to the “List of Prime Ministers” of XTS (72: 2795), Cui Gong was appointed Prime Minister in the fifth month of 839, and he was the only appointment to Prime Minister who bore the surname Cui during Wen’s attempts to gain the Presented Scholar degree. This Prime Minister Cui addressed here must therefore be Cui Gong.

The friendship between Cui Gong and Wen can be traced to an earlier time, since, while Wen was serving the Heir (837-8), Cui held the post of the Magistrate of Metropolitan Prefecture.¹³ We are not deviating far from the truth when we surmise that during Wen’s attendance upon the Heir, Cui, as Magistrate of Metropolitan Prefecture under the influence of the so-called “Lord Military Storehouse”, had already offered Wen support. Far from just casual kindness, Cui’s attitude to Wen was one of political sympathy. He would have had to resist pressure from the eunuchs and bear considerable responsibility in permitting Wen to be awarded the academic title “Equivalent to Passing”.

The above examples demonstrate that in order to become “Equivalent to Passing”, Wen had fully utilized all his social links to the capital’s aristocratic society. But this was not sufficient. Wen still had to surmount the obstacle presented by the eunuchs. To avoid attracting the eunuchs’ hostile attention when he was taking the examination, Wen resorted to the drastic step of changing his name.

To clarify Wen’s experiences during the course of these events, we shall first elucidate the relevant details related in “Hundred-Rhyme Poem”, especially the passage about the examination. Only a close scrutiny of the poetic accounts in this poem can reveal the complete story:

1 All the winged hooves are going before on the way, 逸足皆先路, ¹⁴

Only I, a cornered dragon, have to weep: 窮蛟獨向隅.¹⁵

2 Like a stubborn fugitive in broad-willow I have escaped, 頑童逃廣柳, Now a fatigued horse, in flat wilderness is lying prostrate. 羸馬臥平蕪.

The first two couplets go directly into the subject and establish a strong contrast between what happened to the others and to the poet. All others “Go before on the way” to serve their country, but only Wen remains in great distress and danger. In his own ironic term, a “wretched fugitive”, he had to take his flight using special means, in his metaphor a broad-willow wagon as Ji Bu did ¹⁶–it was by employing this special ruse that he succeeded in escaping with his life. Only subsequent to this was Wen able to recall his painful experiences and compose this poem. Before stating any direct or indirect causes leading to his failure, Wen first presents a picture of the consequences he suffered. This is the start of a long autobiographical poem, recounting all the important events of Wen’s life up to the time of its composition, the fifth year of Kaicheng (840).

3 Of the yellow scrolls, who, alas, asks about my erudition? 黃卷嗟誰問,

With the red strings, I amuse myself on this occasion. 朱弦偶自娛.

4 “Deer’s Singing” played, for all successful candidates. 鹿鳴皆綴士,

Far from a true man, I should lie low like a female. 雌伏竟非夫.

Since his great knowledge of the “yellow scrolls” (the classics) was not sufficient to earn him the Presented Scholar degree, Wen bitterly uses it to articulate his feelings about the injustice he suffered, that is, to “amuse” himself “with red string”. The “red string”, on which he played his tune, originally stands for the orthodox music. It is thus an equivalent term for serious literature, and here refers to this very poem.¹⁷ This poem tells the complex story of his efforts and frustrations, and was written both to express his indignation and to “amuse himself”, so to speak. In other word, the long poem is the summary of Wen’s reflection over his failures. The details of how Wen could have been recommended and yet have failed are as follows:

14 Lord She’s Dragon pictures are truly bright, 葉龍圖夭矯,

The counterfeit, the Yan rat, will make itself a sight. 燕鼠笑胡盧.

Like Lord She’s fondness for dragons, ¹⁸ the examination officials, who ostensibly sought talent, were unable to uncover and recommend any true talent, because they could not tell the worthy man from the unworthy. In addition to mistaking a worthless Yan stone for a treasure, those in charge of the examination might even mistake a rat for a jade-enfolding stone.¹⁹ Since they possessed no discernment, how could Wen escape being failed by them?

15 I knew my innate gift to be preordained, 賦分知前定, And fear of being maligned filled my disappointed mind. 寒心畏厚誣.

Wen was proud of his literary talent, but afraid of the calumny of the eunuchs. He wished to display his literary talent while escaping somehow from the eunuchs’ slander. The following couplet suggests a solution to this problem, although in apparently veiled language–very misleading to a reader who knows nothing of his story.

16 I scurried swifter than Qingji, throwing the dust behind, 躡塵追慶忌, I followed the model of Lu Ban, wielding sword in hand. 操劍學班輸.

To avoid the eunuchs’ slander, Wen ran “swifter than Qingji”, the ancient warrior who was said to have the legs of a wild beast and to catch flying birds with his bare hands; ²⁰ to show his literary talent, he followed “the model of Lu Ban”, an ancient craftsman famous for his ingenious inventions. Logically following the last couplet, this couplet tells how Wen took the examination, and how well he did in it.

The allusion to Qingji is a metaphor referring to Wen’s expedient of taking the examination under a changed name. No matter what means he might have used before the examination, it would be impossible for Wen to outrun Qingji, so what sense did it make to say so? In fact, Wen did manage to “run” sufficiently fast to be able at least for the moment, to outpace the rumors and avoid the eunuchs’ slander, participating in and passing the examination. The name change was the only way to accomplish this. It was this logic of his political adventure that Wen interpolated into the allusion to Qingji, almost completely concealing his meaning. But this paraphrase of the metaphor is the key to the hidden tenor of the line. The comparison with Lu Ban stresses Wen’s literary talent and excellent performance in the examination. Wen wielded his “sword” skillfully as Lu Ban had–since Lu was a master in handicraft, just as Wen was a master of literary composition. In this metaphor the master artisan symbolized a surpassing literary talent. In other words, Wen is saying that, as an outstanding literary master of his time, he had the ability to handle the examination topics with great ease and surpassing talent.

17 In the Literary Garden I attended many a candidate, 文囿陪多士,

Taking the Divine Prefecture Examination for the A 1 place. 神州試大巫.

18 My answer could be “a rare playing of the lute”, 對雖希鼓瑟,

So my name was passed off among those who blew the flute. 名亦濫吹竽.

Footnote: Last autumn I sat for the Metropolitan Prefecture Examination and got my name recommended on the supplementary list (原注: 余去秋試京兆, 薦名居其副).

Here the eighteenth couplet needs some explanation.

Confucius once asked what each of his students would wish to do; when it was his best student Zeng Dian’s turn, “the music of playing on his lute died away” (鼓瑟希) before he offered the best answer to the master’s question. He “would wash in the Yi River, enjoy the breeze among the rain altars, and return home singing”. ²¹ Wen reverse the original Chinese text 鼓瑟希 to 希鼓瑟, which we translate as “a rare playing of the lute”, because of its overtone “ranking among the best”, the very meaning Wen wanted to express. Being “passed off among those who blew the flute” refers to the well-known Hanfeizi story of Mr. Nanguo, who passed himself off as one of the players in the ensemble by pretending to know how to play the flute, but who was at a loss when called upon to play solo. Here it is a modest way of speaking about Wen’s gaining an “Equivalent to Passing” degree. Therefore, this couplet means that because of his excellent performance during the examination, Wen passed.

After all necessary preparations, Wen took the Metropolitan Prefecture Examination; and, as he elegantly declares here, his performances were remarkable and he succeeded in becoming an “Equivalent to Passing” (causing controversies in his lifetime and misunder-standings after his death). Here the footnote verifies the reliability of the record in the Tangzhiyan (2: 15) about Wen’s being equivalent to passing in 839. However, the achieve-ment of this passing degree ultimately resulted in Wen’s unexpected failure to pass:

19 [This served] only to make men suspect I desired profit and fame, 正使猜奔競,

Though I took no account of whether I won or lose. 何嘗計有無？

20 A Liu Shan had looked for and found me–it was useless, 劉剡虛訪覓,

The Wang Ba I imitated was mocked, what a shame. 王霸竟揶揄.

Being thus recommended brought no good fortune. Rather, Wen became deeply enmeshed in troubles. Here we can infer from the context that his temporary expedient, the change of his name, was exposed and he became the topic of gossip. He was in an awkward position and found it difficult to vindicate himself. The recommendation of someone (likened to Liu Shan, very possibly Cui Gong) finally proved fruitless, and despite his loyalty to the dynasty, he was held up for ridicule as Wang Ba once had been.²²

21 To buy fealty, someone had burned the tallies, to no avail, 市義虛焚卷,

I was derided at the pass, for having thrown the silk credential away. 關譏漫棄襦.

22 The best remarks (of my friend), by now, I came to believe, 至言今信矣,

And my humble ambition was, for sure, a grief! 微尚亦悲夫.

Allowing Wen to conceal his identity so as to escape the eunuchs’ hostile attention was like Lord Mengchang’s acquiescence in allowing Feng Xuan, his retainer, to burn the tallies “to buy fealty” for him, even though it proved to be fruitless. Wen found it difficult to fulfill his long-cherished ambition and his imitation of Zhong Jun became ridiculous.²³ Only when he finally understood the reality of his failure did Wen realize he had underestimated the political difficulty of gaining the Presented Scholar degree. He could only lament all his previous efforts and honestly deal with his humiliation.

23 Let me tune the pitch for the White Snow aria, 白雪調歌響,

And enjoy dancing by the Rain Altar in the pure breeze. 清風樂舞雩.

24 I could not raise my shoulders [to adulate anyone] affectedly, 脅肩難黽免,

But I had to scratch my head, sighing in agony. 搔首易嗟吁.²⁴

Metaphorically, the “White Snow”, an exquisite tune, which few were able to sing, stands for the lofty moral principle Wen would still adhere to, isolated as he was in his political stand. Regarding himself as a first-rate Confucian scholar as Zeng Dian had been, he would take delight in following Zeng’s example of noble reclusion and poverty.²⁵ Unable by nature to “raise” his “shoulders”, to win the favor with those in power, especially the eunuchs, he had to resign himself to a petty, lowly, life lived in depression.

Wen’s predicament was partly due to the unfairness of the selection:

25 To vie for winning I was not a competent man, 角勝非能者, But to choose the worthy, was it really in archery? 推賢見射乎.

26 When the “horn pitcher” contains in it more dread and fright, 兕觥增恐悚, The “cup” will lose its share of water, little and slight. 杯水失錙銖.

Wen confesses here that he was not competent enough in the examination, because it was more of a political rivalry than a competition of literary talents. If the best candidates are not picked out from the examination, so, by analogy, he asked whether or not the most worthy man was decided by “archery”. ²⁶ Just as wine is poured into each cup from the “horn pitcher”, the degree is conferred to each candidate by the examination administrator. If the “pitcher” is filled with “dread and fright”–as the official quarters were frightened by the threatening eunuchs and swayed by political prejudices; then “the cup will lose its share of water”–the candidates unavoidably become the victims of unfair judgments and lose what they deserved. In other words, because “the examination officials were afraid of the eunuchs”, Wen was rejected.

27 The white target is withdrawn, no longer red and bright, 粉垛收丹采, While the golden whistling arrows, I have to hide. 金 隱仆姑.

28 Letting drop my bowcase, I was ashamed of finishing the cup, 垂橐羞盡爵, Raising the goblet, they insulted me, for curving the bow. 揚觶辱彎弧.

29 Clumsy [as I am], I should not talk of drawing a tiger, 虎拙休言畫,

Nor wish to imitate [the action of] slaying a dragon. 龍希莫學屠.²⁷

Though his performance in the examination was superior, Wen was forced to quit the competition and conceal his talent. He found himself humiliated and under suspicion. As a Chinese proverb states, “failure to draw a tiger makes it, instead, resemble a dog”–Wen’s allegiance to the court was, contrary to his expectations, distorted as disloyalty and he had made a spectacle of himself in spite of his loyalty. “Slaying dragons” means something impractical, which might be an allusion to Wen’s plan to annihilate the eunuchs, which Wen was forced to abandon.

To sum up this portion of “Hundred-Rhyme Poem”: after the Heir’s death, Wen tried everything he could to achieve the Presented Scholar degree. As an expedient, he changed his name and succeeded in having his name recommended. Unfortunately, his behavior was purposely misconstrued, and everything turned against him. Even those who had been friendly to him could no longer help. In trying to circumvent the eunuchs in order to take and pass the examination, Wen had met with bitter failure.

The Change of Name

Now we can concentrate on clearing up misunderstandings about Wen’s name change.

The information drawn from the above passage places in a clearer light Wen’s experiences in the examination. But some points require further clarification. For example, did Wen really change his name merely for the purpose of taking the Metropolitan Examination?–Our elicitation of this important matter seems too simple to be convincing. We should not, after all, attach too much importance on the information drawn from a single poetic couplet. Interpreted in isolation, the sixteenth rhyme allows explanations other than we have offered, thus we must provide more proof. We need to determine what new name he took, and why he assumed such a name. At the very least, we have a responsibility to give a more detailed consideration to such a problem.

The question of Wen’s change of name arises when we study the records in the two Tang Histories. Wen’s Biography in JTS (190: 5079) says:

His original name is Qi, and his style name Feiqing.... His younger brother was Tinghao (本名岐, 字飛卿,…弟庭皓).

And Wen’s Biography in XTS (91:3787) has exactly the same record at this point:

His original name is Qi, and his style name Feiqing. His younger brother was Tinghao (本名岐, 字飛卿, 弟庭皓).

Here we discern a problem. To state that Wen’s original name is Wen Qi is to affirm that the name Tingyun was used only as the changed name. But since Tingyun had a younger brother named Tinghao, how could it be that the elder brother changed his name to be in conformity with his young brother, when the brothers in a family always shared a character in their names? If Wen never changed his name, his biographies in the two Tang Histories do not need to mention Wen’s “original name”, but if Wen really did change his name, their records are obviously implausible. That Wen did undergo a name-change is frequently mentioned and mishandled in the notes and anecdotes written about him between Tang and Song times; we have quoted some of them earlier and shall study them further. The discrepancies in the two Tang Histories can serve as a starting point for our further studies, which will substantiate our arguments with more details concerning when and why Wen changed his name.

The Beimeng Suoyan account indicates that the change of Wen’s name took place as a consequence of the Jianghuai Incident. The Yuquanzi record reveals that the Jianghuai Incident happened right before Wen was about to follow the local recommendation [and thus take the examination]. Conceivably, the change of name might have something to do with the local recommendation. Wen’s first “following of the local recommendation” was, without a doubt, his following of the Metropolitan Prefecture Recommendation in 839. Preferential as it was, this examination was merely a kind of local recommendation. It is because of this that we affirm that Wen’s change of name happened in 839, just before his participation in the Metropolitan Examination. And it is on this inference that we ground our argument that in “Hundred-Rhyme Poem” (written in 840) there must be some record to that effect. This recommendation would, for many years thereafter, qualify Wen to take the Presented Scholar examinations held by the Ministry of Ritual, as he later did in the Dazhong era (847-860).

On the other hand, however, as far as we can determine, in all of the extant works of Wen’s contemporaries, Wen was addressed as “Feiqing” or “Tingyun”. For example, Li Shangyin’s “Hearing Zhuming’s Death, Mailed to Feiqing with Tears” (聞著明兇問哭寄飛卿), Ji Tangfu’s “Sending Wen Feiqing to the Appointment of Fangcheng Defender” (送溫飛卿尉方城), Zhang Hu’s poem with the same topic, Duan Chengshi’s “Teasing Feiqing”

(嘲飛卿) and “Eight Letters Sent to Wen Feiqing” (與溫飛卿書八首). ²⁸ All of these were apparently written after the year 839, indicating that after that date, Wen’s name remained Wen Tingyun. Even the official edict composed by Pei Tan (裴坦, fl. 830-60) in the year 859–”Edict for Demoting Wen Tingyun as Defender of Fangcheng”(貶溫飛卿隋縣尉制) ²⁹–addressed Wen as “the Former Local Tribute Presented Scholar Wen Tingyun”, rather than Wen Qi, although it was under the name Wen Qi that Wen took the Metropolitan Prefecture Examination and was registered as a qualified “Local Tribute Presented Scholar”. This is a clear indication that even those in official quarters regarded Wen’s true name as Tingyun, despite his ruse in changing his name to Qi.

Regarding this problem, Xia Chengtao once surmised, “After Wen was insulted [in Jianghuai] he changed his name to Qi, and soon resumed his original name [Tingyun]” (390). This is not far from the truth, except that it lacks completeness. What really happened is that Wen changed his name to Qi solely to gain the Presented Scholar degree, and, when the name change was divulged and he met with failure, it was no longer necessary to keep the changed name. Actually, even if he really had succeeded in passing, employing this ruse, everyone would have recognized Wen Qi as the famous and infamous Wen Tingyun! Wen Qi was a makeshift name assumed for taking the Metropolitan Examination and nothing more. It is no wonder that none of Wen’s contemporaries used it in formally addressing him. This changed name, however, was recorded in the “Records for the Equivalents to Passing of the Devine Prefecture” (神州等第录) under the heading “Equivalent to Passing but Failed to Pass”. Wang Dingbao’s Tangzhiyan presents for modern reader an access for the hidden truth.

We have already mentioned that Wen likens himself to Zhao Qi, changing his name just to Wen Qi, using the same character Qi (岐). This was not accidental. In Wen’s extant works, we can find other examples where Zhao Qi is alluded to, all of which indicate that Wen’s use of this character in his name was a deliberate allusion. For example, in the first of his two “Epistles Presented to Vice Minister Jiang”, Wen wrote:

What kind of person was Yue Shifu that you appreciate the essays he left behind; how could Zhao Taiqing make a fool of me since I respectfully follow the example that he set up (越石父彼何人也, 夙佩遺文; 趙臺卿敢欺我哉, 敬承 烈).

By the allusion to Yan Ying who rescued Yueshi Fu, Wen expressed his gratitude for Jiang’s appreciation, likening himself to Yue Shifu; then he showed his reverence for this ancient model, Zhao Taiqing (style of Zhao Qi).

Another example is found in Wen’s “Epistle Presented to Secretary Du”: “Out of the carriage of Sun Bin [Shi], you stooped to recommend me, the ordinary man” (孫賓 [石] 車上, 欲引凡姿). Wen likens Secretary Du to Sun Song, with the implication that, he himself was a Zhao Qi looking forward to Du’s protection and promotion, in the face of the eunuchs. The reason why Wen took Zhao Qi as his model and encouraged himself by Zhao’s spirit was very clear: Zhao also firmly opposed the eunuchs. According to “Biography of Zhao Qi” in HHS, Zhao Qi’s original name was Jia, with the style name Binqing (玢卿); it was only in his later exile that he changed his name. He named himself Qi, and, as he was born in the Censorate (御史臺), he styled himself Taiqing (臺卿). Zhao had been a child prodigy and versatile writer, ³⁰ as was Wen. All these coincidences directly inspired Wen to adopt Zhao’s name as his own, with the implication that as a man of rectitude, he was opposed to the eunuchs.

Since Wen for a time changed his name to Qi, it is likely that he also gave himself a new style name corresponding to the new name Qi. We have indeed found some records indicative of a style-name for Wen other than Feiqing, in a poem of Li Shangyin, Wen’s intimate friend. We will see what the following poem by Li Shangyin reveals:

Missing and Thinking Zaimeng Feiqing

(有懷在蒙飛卿, Yuxisheng Shiji Jianzhu, 2: 524)

Now frequently transferred at minor posts with diseases, 薄宦頻移疾,

Formerly for long you lived in oblivion and isolation. 當年久索居.

Your lament resembles that of Area Commander Yu [Xin], 哀同庾開府, And your emaciation is as that of Minister Shen [Yue]. 瘦極沈尚書.³¹

When the city is green with new shades of distant trees, 城綠新蔭遠, The River is pure and the afterglow is faint. 江清反照虛.

To express my yearning, I resort only to my brush and ink, 所思惟翰墨,

Following the ancient model I look forward to a pair of carp. 從古待雙魚.³²

The title of the poem is somewhat problematic. In his annotation, the Qing Dynasty scholar Feng Hao (1719-1801) quoted Beimeng Suoyan with some uncertainty:

Wen Tingyun is styled Feiqing. Some says “Yun” (雲) should be “Yun” (筠), [and his] style [should be] Zaimeng (溫庭雲者, 字飛卿; 或雲作筠. 字在蒙).... It cannot be ascertained (無考). ³³

But in any version of Beimeng Suoyan (juan 10) extant today, the text that corresponds to the above-cited passage reads:

Wen Tingyun is styled Feiqing. Some says “Yun” (雲) should be “Yun” (筠), [and his] style...original name should be Qi (溫庭雲, 字飛卿; 或雲作筠, 字舊名岐).

Apart from Li’s poem, the Beimeng Suoyan text Feng Hao quoted is the only source available to us that documents that Wen has anything to do with Zaimeng. Feng Hao lived in an earlier time than we do, and he may have seen a version of Beimeng Suoyan that is not available to us. Compared to the passage Feng quoted, the present versions of Beimeng Suoyan have some key characters missing, which results in the ungrammaticality of the sentence. With these missing characters reinserted, we have a restored text as follows:

Wen Tingyun is styled Feiqing. Some says “Yun” should be “Yun”, [and his] style name [should be] Zaimeng, while his original name is Qi (溫庭雲, 字飛卿; 或雲作筠.字在蒙, 舊名岐).

Such is the original text of Beimeng Suoyan, valuable even though it contains mistakes. In trying to explain the title of Li’s poem, we must not commit the blunder of taking “Meng” as a place name.³⁴ Likewise, to suppose Zaimeng to be the style of another person proves to be untenable. We agree with the Beimeng Suoyan record, and take Zaimeng as Wen’s style. Feng Hao’s comment on it (“It cannot be ascertained”) only serves to suggest once more that Zaimeng is not the style of any other person, but a style name that matches Qi. The Beimeng Suoyan record cannot be totally groundless; it must have its earlier sources and contains many grains of truth.

If we understand Zaimeng in the title of the poem as another style-name that Wen adopted, then, grammatically it is apposite to Feiqing, that is, both Zaimeng and Feiqing address the same person. Accordingly, the meaning of Zaimeng is rendered immediately transparent, as is the title of the poem. Feiqing has the literal meaning of “an honorable man in flight” or “a man of soaring ambition”. Addressing Wen as Zaimeng-Feiqing is equivalent to calling him a frustrated man of rare gifts and bold strategy, who resembled a bright pearl thrown into darkness, or a swan pinioned and no longer able to soar on high. In such familiar banter we can sense the intimacy and sympathy of a bosom friend. There are, indeed, no precedents for addressing a friend using the old and new style-names together, but neither is there any reason to believe that Li Shangyin, who happened to have such a friend bearing such style names, could not contrive to do so.

A careful reading of the poem itself, which adheres closely to its title, supports this inference. The poem expresses Li’s deep concern for Wen, and attests to the depth of friendship between the two most talented and unlucky poets of their time. Most noteworthy is how Li’s poem strictly keeps to the title words line by line, a basic requirement for the composition of any Chinese classic poem.

In the first couplet, Li expresses his compassion and understanding (such concerns account for youhuai, 有懷) of the injustices and hardship Wen suffered, both in his present official transfers and in his former lonely reclusion (such distresses spell zaimeng, 在蒙). He then focuses on Wen’s poetic endowments in relation to his personal feelings (a yearning for Wen, again youhuai), likening Wen to Yu Xin and Shen Yue, both most brilliant poets (such men are Feiqings, 飛卿) in adversity (although they were zaimeng). Next, in a symbolic depiction of the scene Li remembers Wen with longing (again youhuai), blocked as they are from each other (zaimeng). In the last couplet, longing becomes yearning for Wen’s letter (youhuai).

The above explanation of Li’s poem does no more than explain it in the manner that Li composed it: starting (起)–entering into the topic; proceeding (承)–further elaborating the connotations of the topic; turning (轉)–shifting to another aspect of interest intrinsic to the topic; and responding (和)–eliciting the poetic conclusion. The emphasis is throughout on an exploration of the implications of the title: Li’s yearning for (youhuai) a frustrated (zaimeng) talented spirit (Feiqing). These feelings expressed in the poem are clearly addressed to one person, and one person only–Wen Tingyun. Li plays with the meanings of Wen’s two style-names, which encapsulate the ambivalent quality of Wen’s official career with its lofty ambition and persistent adversity. The phrasing of the title is redolent of Li’s poetic style and his profound friendship with Wen. We therefore reject the hypothesis that the poem might address two persons at the same time.

Now we can discuss Wen’s names and style names.

Comparing the records in the Beimeng Suoyan with those of the two Tang Histories, we raise the following questions: Is Wen’s name Tingyun (庭雲) or Tingyun (庭筠)? Is his style name Feiqing (飛卿) or Zaimeng (在蒙) or both? What is Wen’s original name?

Before attempting answers, we must understand how Chinese literati had a name matched with a style name. As a universally accepted practice this began about the era of Emperor Wudi of Han (r. 140-87 BC). The name (名), or taboo (諱), was something to be avoided when addressing its bearer. Instead, the style name, or the courtesy name (literally expressing character[s], 表字), was used in place of the name when addressing the person politely. Thus the style name expressed the connotation of the name and its use can avoid the inconvenience of directly addressing a person by his name. Depending on different eras and aesthetic tastes, the ways in which people matched name with style-name differed. Often, people would make some changes in their own name or style-name, for a variety of reasons.

We will concentrate on finding out how Wen’s style-names, Feiqing and Zaimeng, match with his given name Tingyun (庭筠), Tingyun (庭雲) and Qi (岐). Once this question is answered, the others can be readily solved.

Since “Feiqing” means “a man of soaring ambition”, that is, one who can fly as high as the clouds (yun), it does somewhat “express” the meaning of “yun” (雲, cloud). Similarly, the name-character yun (筠) is a synecdoche for the bamboo, which, with its strong joints jie (節), a homonym for qijie (氣節), moral integrity, can also grow as high as the clouds and symbolizes the lofty moral principle of noble men. Thus it is a more elegant and implied meaning for “Feiqing” to convey. Therefore, between the style name Feiqing and either of the two homonymic characters yun (雲and筠), ³⁵ there exist solid semantic connections. We have no reason to reject either one.

With Zaimeng, the case becomes different. There is no meaning whatsoever in it that has to do with yun in either form. The only possibility left is that it is a style-name for Wen’s changed name, Qi, if it is a style-name at all. As Feng Hao has already involuntarily suggested, Zaimeng is Wen’s style-name and thus can be understood as matching Qi. But before we can agree, we must provide a convincing proof of this assumption. Starting from the most frequently-used meaning of the character meng–to be covered (with something from light or justice), we will trace back to its ultimate definition–as one of the names of the Eight Diagrams in the Book of Changes. Granted meng as a name of Divination, the phrase “zaimeng” acquires its complex but suggestive connotations: a state of being endangered or frustrated, but still in hope of changing for the better by surmounting all difficulties. However, to make it match the name character Qi, we must proceed to further clarifications.

Actually, the compound expression Zaimeng does occur, although extremely rarely. What is most fascinating is that it appears in the “Rhapsody On the Meng Spring”, ³⁶ by none other but Li Cheng, Wen’s beloved teacher. There we can trace its original meaning and uncover the basic clue as to why Wen chose it as his style-name:

At the foot of the Eastern Mountain, there is a Meng Spring. It has no good fortune to devote itself to irrigation, but boasts its freshness and transparency in vain. Empty and bright, it is like a mirror; lucid and clear, it is simply itself. It’s good to be accustomed to Kan as its virtue, and why should it stop in front of Gen and go no further.³⁷...Moreover, were it silted up, it would stop, while when it is dredged, it flows through. It can go either farther or nearer, regardless of whether it flows west or east. With the balance of the four seasons’ breezes, it possesses in silence its pretty algae; subject to coverings of overlapping gloom, it was blocked from a pure air.... All others have to depend on people and ask favors from them; only this spring remains intact in its existence of “meng”.

(蒙彼東山, 山下有泉. 運未逢于畎澮, 色空濟于澄鮮. 虛明可鑒, 澹泊自然. 宜習坎以為德, 胡止艮而莫前. 且夫壅則止, 理則通. 能致遠邇, 任決西東. 荷四氣之平均, 潛生麗藻, 處重陰而蒙蔽, 尚阻清風. 彼皆因人而有托, 此獨居然而在蒙).

This rhapsody is a profound representation of Li Cheng’s philosophy and his feelings about how to deal with but not to mix into the corrupt world. Li did this by means of yongwu (咏物), that is, personifying the Meng Spring as an ideal character who retains his lofty virtue in defiance of the hardship and dangers of life. This passage brims over with the wisdom of the Book of Changes. Its first sentence alludes to the following:

Meng: A danger presents itself at the foot of the mountain. To face the danger and stop, that is Meng. A spring wells up at the foot of the mountain, that is Meng. Thus the superior man fosters his character by thoroughness in all that he does (山下有險, 險而止, 蒙.山下出泉, 蒙, 君子以果行育德). ³⁸

These remarks illuminate the fundamental purport of Li Cheng’s rhapsody, especially the term Zaimeng. As Wang Bi explained the term Meng:

If one retreats, he will fall into dire straits; if he advances, the mountain is blocking his way, and one is at a loss as to where to go–such is the meaning of meng (退則困險, 進則閡山, 不知所使, 蒙之義也).

Therefore, Zaimeng means to be in the state of being meng, that is, finding it difficult either to go ahead or to retreat. It also implies that, even in such a plight, a noble man can be at ease, with his personality intact. We suggest that such were the meanings of the term Zaimeng which Wen had in mind when he adopted it as his style-name. He borrowed the term from Li Cheng, as a token of his own tenacity of purpose under political pressures, demonstrating at the same time his admiration for his teacher.

This example provides a case in point for our further reflection. When investigating Wen’s secret attendance upon the Heir, we discovered that Li Cheng was Wen’s teacher. Now we see evidence in Wen’s behavior of the influence of his teacher. If the course we are pursuing concerning Wen’s life were not in accordance with what happened in reality, we could never be able to uncover interconnected evidence of the puzzle such as this.

Now we turn to the meaning of the character qi (岐) that Wen used as his changed name. In “Hundred-Rhyme Poem”, we have read:

In my laments and sighs I felt melancholy, as did Yang Zhu. 悲嘆似楊朱.

And in the “Boshan Censer”, we have also read:

I hear say that Yang Zhu had no end of tears, 見說楊朱無限淚,

Which were not, nay, vainly because the road forked away. 豈能空為路岐分?

In both cases Wen avails himself of the allusion to Yang Zhu, who “wept on coming to the forked road, for it could lead both south and north”. Here we must see Yang Zhu as more than the embodiment of a frustrated Wen Tingyun. It is suggestive that Yang Zhu’s tears were shed on the “forked road” (岐路), a term that literally contains the very character Wen used for his changed name, qi. In this expression, Yang Zhu’s weeping is not only a symbol of Wen’s political frustration in general, but it points directly to the causes and effects of his change of name, marking the climax of his troubles. Substituting qi for “forked” [road], we find the poetic implication of the couplet becomes doubly rich.³⁹ The character qi, apart from its literal meaning “forked way”, signifies the crucial turn in Wen’s political career, in the face of which Wen was determined to advance courageously and deliberately, regardless of any new frustrations and dangers. Now we see clearly that the character Qi as Wen’s name has connotations that tally with those of meng which are couched in Book of Changes. We cannot but conclude that Qi and Zaimeng as name and style-name are, in the full sense, an ideal pair.

Wen adopted Zaimeng as his style name, to match his name Qi. The name and the style name bring into relief each other’s connotations: even faced with the power and the importunate pursuit of the eunuchs, Wen would never admit defeat. As shown in the above examples, Wen’s distress was always linked to his frustration under eunuch dominance, both throughout the Heir Apparent Incident and during the examinations. The accounts of Tongxin and Beimeng Suoyan indicate that Wen’s name change resulted from the whipping he received, and thus it was also connected with the Jianghuai Incident. In summary, Wen’s name change was connected to all his past political experiences and profoundly affected his future life career.

Upon examining the two homonymic characters yun (筠) and yun (雲), again in Li Cheng’s works, we find something that corroborates the account in Tongxin.

Tongxin asserts that Wen’s original name was Qi, and the name-change from Qi to Tingyun (庭雲) resulted from a whipping by his senior relatives. This account certainly departs from the historical truth. But its serious argument that “other books” should refer to Wen as Tingyun (庭雲) instead of Tingyun (庭筠) poses a question in earnest: which is the right name? The answer to this question will provide us more messages about his life.

As our analysis above demonstrates, the two characters yun (雲) and yun (筠), besides being homonymous, both match with the style-name Feiqing. As it is, there is nothing in the shape or literal meanings of the two characters that would cause them to be confused with each other, thus we cannot impute the discrepancy to the error of block-printings during the circulation of Wen’s works. Nor is it likely that contemporary writers just invented the name on Wen’s behalf. No. Such a subtle name choice could only have been Wen’s own, just like his choice of the name Qi and style-name Zaimeng.

At the examination in the twelfth year of Zhenyuan (796), which he passed as the first candidate, Li Cheng had composed a poem and a rhapsody both of which were entitled “The Bamboo-Arrow Has Its Cuticle” (竹箭有筠). ⁴⁰ From the latter we read:

People observing the rites is just like the bamboo-arrow having its cuticle.... If only it has its constant nature, the hardy bamboo fears no shifts of the seasons; never changing his mind, a man of virtue is always concerned about keeping the Way. The bamboo cannot protect its joints without its cuticle, nor can people be established as the model of the time by abandoning the rites. The wise teachings of the former sages are the lasting lessons for the generations to come.... When it springs up as a shoot, it has already a protective sheath enveloping its body; and when its sparse stalks grow, as expected, it towers above the cloud in due time.... Therefore we know that my observing ritual resembles my having disciples; and the bamboo having the cuticle is just like my having my skin....

(喻人有禮, 如竹有筠. 茍常其性, 寒竹何患于時移; 不易其心, 志士常懷于道在. 竹無筠無以固其節, 人舍禮何以法于時. 伊先哲之善喻, 作後代之元龜. 苞本之時, 已包周身之防; 疏莖之勢, 更叶陵云之期. 是以禮之于己, 如我有徒; 筠之于竹, 如我有膚…)

The whole of Li’s rhapsody focuses on the key word yun (筠, cuticle), with li (禮, rites) as its motif. Personified as a noble man, the bamboo-arrow with its cuticle has a sense of honor and shame. The cuticle of the bamboo offers protection to its joints. In like manner, the rites enable the noble man to protect his own rectitude. The bamboo shoot’s armor-like envelope is emblematic of the wisdom of a noble man that protects him in the chaos of the times, while the lonely and straight pole towering above the clouds symbolizes the worthy man who achieves his ambitions. Finally, Li concludes that the cuticle has more importance to the bamboo than do the rites to himself, by comparing the former with having skin and the latter with having disciples. Having skin, of course, is more vitally important than having disciples. Here we discover why Wen took yun (筠) as his name–he must have been a student on particularly close terms with Li Cheng.

It is clear that Wen took all the meanings of “yun” in Li’s rhapsody when making a revision in his name. Such a habit of substituting a homonym for one’s existing name persists even today in China and cannot be taken as a formal change of name. Although we do not know the exact time Wen did this, it must have been some time after he became Li’s student. Considering that yun (雲) was also quite well known, the substitution of yun (筠) could not have been made very early in Wen’s life. Therefore, in deference to Wen’s own decision, we will call him Wen Tingyun (溫庭筠).

We now are aware of how Wen tried to pass the civil service examination and how he failed to become a Presented Scholar. Throughout, it was always the power of the eunuchs that thwarted his plans and ruined his chances. The official histories fail to yield veritable records about many important affairs involving these eunuchs. By comparison, miscellaneous notes and anecdotes, works such as Yuquanzi, Tongxin and Beimeng Suoyan, biased though they be, contain much that is true, when examined using a discriminating historical approach.

Wen’s Afterthought

Turning to the relevant passage of “Hundred-Rhyme Poem”, we will complete our account of the whole story (rhymes 75-85) by connecting it to other affairs.

75 My yearning for home is of a bird nesting on the southern branch, 鄉思巢枝鳥, The passage of time a like the sun crossing the cloud-crevice. 年華過隙駒. ⁴¹

76 Harboring gratitude [to emperors] I vainly accompany my shadow, 懷恩空抱影, For I have no chance to devote myself to repay the imperial grace. 酬德未捐軀.

77 Among my compeers I’ve been honored as a good friend, 時輩推良友,

Of my pedigree I have carried on an honest fame 家聲繼令圖.

78 To present myself I grieve my wings were too short, 致身傷短翮,

With head high, you looked back at me a worn-out horse. 驤首顧疲駑.

In Wen’s nostalgia, he laments over the passage of time while he regrets for his unrealized dream. Neither He was unsuccessful both in serving his country and in reglorifying his family. A social literary man with an honest family fame as he was, Wen failed because, in his own terms, his “wings” were “too short”, that is, he lacked powerful mediator to help him, although his failure can, more properly, be attributed to his particular family circumstances and personality.

79 Now Ban and Sima are galloping forth side by side, 班馬方齊騖,

While Chen and Lei are, also, driving neck and neck. 陳雷亦并驅.

80 In the past each of you told his wishes, 昔皆言爾志,

By now I likewise regard my disciple with awe. 今亦畏我徒.

81 The energy I possess, to the Altair and the Plough can soar, 有氣干牛斗,

But where is the man, to really know the precious Lulu sword? 無人辨轆轤.

“Ban and Ma”, that is, Ban Gu (32-92) and Sima Qian (? -145 BC), both great historiographers, refer to people to whom Wen addressed his poem. Lei Yi (雷義) and Chen Zhong (陈重), good friends famous for their mutual friendship in their official careers, ⁴² also refer to Wen’s companions. Many of those who “in the past” each “told his wishes”,–Wen’s classmates under the same teacher, or even his own students–were pushing forward in their official careers and were “regarded in awe” ⁴³ on Wen’s part. Wen likened his talents to legendary precious swords such as Lulu ⁴⁴ that emit a purple light to the Altair and Plough Constellations, though no one in power could really appreciate it. The crux of the problem is implied in the lines that follow:

82 Coming as guest, the green-ant, I poured. 客來斟綠蟻, Trying for a wife, on the blue-beetles, I trod. 妻試踏青蚨.

83 By incessant aspersions, even [flesh and] bones are destroyed, 積毀方銷骨, And I fear that a slight blemish would spoil the whole gem. 微瑕懼掩瑜.

As we have pointed out, Wen squandered his money to ransom the singer and eventually married her. After that he was forced to face the consequences of his marriage, opprobrium from orthodox literati and the calumnies of eunuchs. Wen confesses here that the marriage was for him similar to a “slight blemish” obscuring the splendor of the whole gem. That is to say that the resultant rumors brought thorough ruin to his official career. Here Wen attributes his failure to the Jianghuai Incident, which ushered in a lifetime of nightmare–the eunuchs’ ubiquitous influence, from which he was never successful in freeing himself.

84 As the snake-spears are still involved in shifting wars, 蛇矛猶轉戰,

“The [one in] fish disguise” is in detainment and thrall. 魚服自囚拘.

85 By such tricks they intended to delude the world, 欲就欺人事,

But how can the ghost’s execution be dodged? 何能逭鬼誅？

The snake-spears (a metaphor for the Tang state army) are still involved in shifting wars, against the recalcitrant military satraps. “The one in fish disguise”, ⁴⁵ i. e., Emperor Wenzong, was “in detainment and thrall”–under virtual house arrest–at the time Wen composed this poem, Wenzong already died; the new emperor Wuzong established by the eunuchs was facing a situation hardly any better than that of Wenzong, especially at the beginning. These and similar facts all reveal that the eunuchs were plunging the Tang Empire into political crisis. This is Wen’s indignant accusation: although they [please note that the pronoun “they” is inserted pending translation and absent in Chinese original] might succeed in deluding the world, how could they evade the execution at the hands of ghosts? ⁴⁶ They would have to pay the price for their clandestine evils.

In summation, frustrated as he was, Wen retained his political nerve and verve. He attributed all his failures to, and aimed his veiled attacks at the eunuchs, exhibiting a laudable political courage and insight.

86 Between right and wrong–waking or dreaming, I was confused, 是非迷覺夢,

From Qin to Wu, I planned a travel. 行役議秦吳.

87 In the piercing cold the wind was wailing, 凜冽風埃殘,

In the desolation, plants were withered. 蕭條草木枯.

88 Reluctant departure made me heartbroken, 低回傷志氣,

Braving the cold, my skin and flesh were frostbitten. 蒙犯變肌膚. 89 Only the cries of migrating wild geese were heard, 旅雁惟聞叫,

When a hungry falcon came to me without being called. 饑鷹不待呼.

90 The shuttle of my dream was hastened like the cries of crickets, 夢梭拋促織,

The cocoon of my yearning heart was modeled on those of spiders. 新繭學蜘蛛.

As a consequence, Wen had to seek political refuge in the South. Wen was aware there was no way to justify himself, since right and wrong confused together. On his way back from Chang’an to Wu in the piercing cold, he was downcast. He grieved over his precarious life, and was impatient for a chance to serve his country. Painful memories combined with hopes crowded into his dreams, leaving him sleepless. Despite his knowledge of what was really happening, he was forced to imitate the spider and envelope his heart in a cocoon–the basic cause of this poem’s uniquely dense and ambiguous language.

91 How can their trick, again, be hard to foresee? 寧復機難料? But wasn’t such petty faith too trifling to be trusted? 庸非信未孚?

92 Furious and wild, I’m a tiger shot by an arrow, 激揚銜箭虎,

In doubt and fear, I’m a fox listening on the ice. 疑懼聽冰狐.

Wen anonymously asks the eunuchs: are not your tricks known even to all? Then he directs an undefined criticism at an individual by asking: “Isn’t such petty faith too trifling to be trusted”? Very possibly, Wen’s involvement in the inner court struggles might have a subtle bearing upon the political susceptibility of the new emperor Wuzong. By all accounts Wen was infuriated at the eunuchs’ machinations, but he had to be on his guard against further attacks from them. He portrays himself as a wounded tiger or suspicious fox.

93 For saving myself, I will dig one more “burrow”, 處己將營窟, Such is my heart that tallies with that of the sage. 論心將合符。

94 Don’t say that I am in my “brother’s” grace, 浪言輝棣萼, Where can a remote kinsman like me entrust his life? 何所托葭莩?

95 From a tall tree an oriole can seek friends with his warbling voice, 喬木能求友,

In a dilapidated nest an Owl vainly scares Yuanchu, with a rotten rat. 危巢莫嚇雛.⁴⁷

96 I’d rather assume a lofty demeanor as a leading figure, 風華飄領秀, Than bow to shirt and skirt with the Poetry and Rites. 詩禮拜衾襦. ⁴⁸

Faced with a critical situation, Wen had to prepare multiple means of survival for himself. His retreat, he declares here, tallied with the Sage’s teachings. When he was in need, however, not only did his “brothers” fail to help him, but even his status as an imperial relative had proved futile. Though he failed, Wen had made friends with quite a few successful men during his efforts for a Presented Scholar degree. ⁴⁹ Likening himself to a phoenix that unwittingly scares the owl devouring its rotten rat, ⁵⁰ Wen was declaring to the political speculators that he would not compete with them. As a first-rate writer of his time, Wen had his own peculiar insight, and the manner in which he chose to behave was sometimes contrary to the hypocritical teachings of orthodox Confucianism. Wen directs doubt and irony, toward their “statesmanship”, as revealed in the allusion contained in the last line. He charges that their major principles and great learning are nothing more than means to rob, using Zhuangzi’s poignant sarcasm:

The Confucianists sack tombs with [what they learn in] the Book of Songs and the Book of Rites. The major Confucian spoke down: “Day is breaking in the east, how is our business going on?” The minor Confucian answered: Not yet take off the shirt and skirt, but there is a pearl in the mouth, as is said in the Book of Songs: “Green, green is the wheat, \ growing on the slope of the hill. \ When alive offered nothing for the relief, \ why after death keep in mouth a pearl (儒以詩禮發冢, 大儒臚傳曰 “東方作矣, 事之如何?”小儒曰:“未解裙襦, 口中有珠. 詩不言乎: 青青之麥, 生于陵陂. 生不布施, 死何含珠為?”).

97 When I recline on a pillow, my feelings are immensely bitter, 欹枕情何苦,

In the same boat, how can their Way, from mine, differ? 同舟道豈殊.

98 Let me abandon myself to caressing melilotus and angelica, 放懷親蕙芷,

Though my retirement is not yet at the “mulberry and elm” year. 收跡異桑榆. ⁵¹

99 As a gift to my distant friends, I break off a willow twig, 贈遠聊攀柳, ⁵²

And I will cut the bulrushes to make a letter. 裁書欲截蒲.

100 Gazing into the air, endless tears blurring my eyes, 瞻風無限淚, I turn my head back, and falter. 回首更踟躕.

The more Wen thought about his failure, the more he wondered why people in the same boat could have different Ways, and why someone had turned against him by divulging the “secret” of his name change. Now, although not yet in his old age, he had to return to his old reclusive way of life. At the very end, Wen expresses his affection for his friends and his reluctance to leave, looking back at Chang’an in tears.

After a painful reflection on the causes and consequences of his failure, Wen still retained feelings of anger and pride and, of course, sorrow and distress. For the time being, however, he had to return to the south, leaving political life behind.

We must stress repeatedly the constant, deliberate persecution imposed on Wen by the eunuchs. Again, it was the eunuchs’ persecution that drove Wen to seek political refuge. Emperor Wuzong mounted the throne during the terror of a palace coup launched by the eunuchs. To guarantee his claim to be a legitimate emperor, upon being enthroned, he would, of his own volition, follow the eunuchs’ advice. That is why, without any hesitation, he executed Worthy Consort Yang, Prince An and Prince Chen shortly after his ascension. Wuzong simply could not show any favor to Wen, all the more because Wen had pledged allegiance to the Heir.

From another perspective, the ups and downs of Wen’s political career can, to some degree, be taken as a barometer of the political struggles between eunuchs and court officials on the one hand, and the Niu and the Li Factions on the other. For example, the Heir Apparent’s death was a result of the court officials’ defeat in their rivalry with the eunuchs; at the same time, the Heir’s death evinces that the Niu had gained the upper hand over the Li Faction. By the same token, Wen’s failure was a part and parcel of the Li Faction’s failure in its struggle against the eunuchs. Members of this faction were Wen’s major supporters during his efforts to pass the examination. All through this process, however, in order to meet the demands of the changed situation, the eunuchs had aided the Li Faction in their rise to full power at the expense of the Nius. Therefore, at the same time when the Li Faction was losing the war against the eunuchs, it was winning a battle over the Niu Faction. Despite the fact that Wen for a time sided with the Lis, they could not help Wen upon coming to power, because it would not be wise to promote such a politically sensitive figure and entail the risk of offending the eunuchs.

Therefore, throughout the Huichang era, Wen could not attempt any civil service examination. Confining himself mostly to the Wu and Yue regions, he might have found some minor local post, or else lived a semi-reclusive life on his inherited estates awaiting his opportunity. For him this was a period of political hibernation, during which he never forgot his ambition. His whereabouts during this period, however, are not a central concern of this study.