Chapter 317
Wang Mang was born in the fourth year of the Chuyuan era, during the reign of Emperor Yuan, in Yuancheng County of Wei Commandery—present-day Shandong.
Though he belonged to the Wang Clan, his lineage traced back to Tian An, the grandson of Tian Jian, the final king of Qi.
Born the second son of his household, he took a rather unusual path in life.
While all of his uncles were powerful officials holding the title of marquis, he lived in inescapable poverty.
Renowned for his profound filial piety, he caught the Son of Heaven's eye upon the recommendation of his uncle, Wang Feng, and entered the imperial court.
He rose rapidly through the ranks thanks to his benevolence and virtue, yet he never grew arrogant. He maintained a frugal lifestyle, and his reputation soared by the day.
Despite his youth, he had gathered a massive following. Many believed he was destined to become a central pillar of the Han dynasty.
The man himself, however, felt nothing but constant inner turmoil.
‘It's hopeless... absolutely hopeless.’
Wang Mang was not yet a high-ranking official on the level of the Nine Ministers. He had no right to speak out of turn at a gathering presided over by the Son of Heaven.
Instead, he simply watched.
He watched how the Son of Heaven—the very embodiment of the state—and the Three Ducal Ministers and Nine Ministers who propped him up perceived reality.
Forced to witness this hopeless spectacle from the sidelines, he felt nothing but pure agony.
“So... are we to assume that the ambitions of Daqin—Rome—have finally been laid bare?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.”
The Grand Commandant, the supreme commander of the nation's defense, nodded vigorously.
Despite his grandiose title, he was a civil official utterly devoid of military talent, holding very little actual power.
Yet, watching him spout such fluent nonsense stirred a boiling rage within Wang Mang that pushed past mere disgust.
‘Incompetent bastards. The empire is rotting from the inside out. Are they truly this blind?’
Wang Mang had repeatedly warned his superior, the Guangluxun—one of the Nine Ministers—about the gravity of the current crisis.
As the official overseeing the palace's internal affairs, the Guangluxun could not possibly be ignorant of the truth.
Yet he refused to utter a single word that might sour the Son of Heaven's mood.
“The forces of Tianzhu were likely only ever of that caliber. Have they not been defeated by Rome once before?”
“Could it not be that Rome's military might is simply vast enough to crush Tianzhu with ease?”
“Rome is undoubtedly strong. To meet the united Xiongnu head-on and emerge victorious, they must possess formidable military power. However, if we were to marshal the full might of our empire, the same would be true for us. At a single word from the Son of Heaven, a million soldiers would mobilize this very instant. Whether it is the Xiongnu, Tianzhu, or Rome, none are enemies worthy of Your Majesty's fear.”
‘A million, my ass. Does a million sound like a joke to you? Are you going to feed a million-man army out of your own damn storehouses?’
Listening to the endless stream of drivel spilling from the ministers' mouths made his blood boil.
If he could, he would have screamed at them right then and there.
Did they truly believe the empire could survive on its current path?
As the highest officials tasked with running the state, could they stand proud and claim they were doing their duty?
But the bitter truth—that screaming would change absolutely nothing—kept his mouth firmly shut.
He was likely not the only one suffocating under this sense of powerlessness.
Most of the young officials seated at the far end of the hall wore expressions identical to his own.
Oblivious to the quiet despair of the lower court, the Son of Heaven swallowed every word of his inner circle as absolute truth and moved on to discuss state affairs.
“And how should we handle the upcoming imperial tour? Let the Taipu speak.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. As the humble servant entrusted with the grave duty of Your Majesty's procession, I have not squandered a single moment in my preparations. I have already finalized everything—from the horses and the palanquin to the entire retinue that will accompany this scheduled imperial tour.”
“How does it compare to the processions of the late Emperor Yuan?”
“I assure you, it lacks for nothing. The palanquin crafted for this journey, in particular, is an exquisite masterpiece built by dozens of renowned artisans.”
“Haha, I eagerly look forward to it. Now, onto the next matter... Dai Nong, what is the current state of our finances and material stores?”
All eyes shifted to Dai Nong and the Privy Treasurer beside him.
Dai Nong, who managed the state treasury, and the Privy Treasurer, who oversaw the imperial family's private assets, were naturally among the Son of Heaven's closest confidants.
A single word from either man could decide or dismantle massive state projects.
The core issue, however, was that the vast majority of current high officials were maternal relatives belonging to the Wang Clan.
Even Wang Mang, a member of that very same clan, found the devastation they wreaked upon the empire so horrific he could barely stomach it.
The state treasury was already bled dry. A storm of petitions had flooded in lamenting the crisis, but the current Emperor, Liu Ao, lacked the capacity to heed them.
He gave the appearance of listening to his ministers' counsel, but that was as far as it went.
He was a man who listened well to his subordinates—and therein lay his greatest flaw: he only listened.
Devoid of both the will and the competence to fix anything, yet desperate to avoid criticism, he merely nodded along as his officials spoke.
Emboldened by this, the Wang Clan had come to treat the empire as their personal property. Step by step, they blinded and deafened the Son of Heaven, manipulating state affairs however they pleased.
The result was the outright disaster unfolding before Wang Mang's eyes.
Wang Mang was entirely convinced that these men were secretly thanking Rome.
Why wouldn't they? The looming threat of Rome was accelerating the empire's internal collapse, making it exponentially easier for the Wang Clan to solidify their stranglehold.
‘If things continue like this, the empire will fall... It might not even survive into the next generation.’
Even a unified dynasty with no internal enemies was mortal; when its time came, it would die.
If even the Qin dynasty forged by the First Emperor could collapse, how could the Han expect to rule for ten thousand years?
The omens of ruin were already visible everywhere.
The fractured economy severely crippled the court's control over the provinces, and the quality of the military decayed by the day.
They had long since lost all real control over the Four Commanderies of Han in the east and the Hangu Commandery down south.
Even if drastic measures were taken now... no, it was likely already too late.
“Then let us conclude our discussion on finances and move on.”
‘You're glossing over our most critical crisis just like that?’
But the unspoken horror of the younger officials went ignored.
The dialogue between the Son of Heaven and his top ministers plunged into even more agonizing depths.
“What is the situation with Tianzhu? Are we to view them as a vassal state of Rome?”
“Tianzhu will reportedly continue to be governed by its own kings. However, they appear to have submitted to Rome's authority, falling under their dominion. It seems a relationship akin to the tributary-investiture system has been established.”
“Those Romans seem incredibly arrogant. How shall we respond if they dare make the same demand of us?”
“They will not be able to. For one, the distance between Rome and our borders is simply too vast. They say Tianzhu is easily reachable by sailing from Rome's eastern frontiers, but we are entirely different. They would have to march a tremendous distance along the Silk Road just to catch sight of our borders. Leading a massive army on such an arduous, long-distance expedition is out of the question.”
“And what if they decide to march anyway, like madmen?”
“Fortunately, reports suggest the nomads whom Rome defeated are currently regaining their strength. We hear a rather extraordinary figure has emerged among them. As they rebuild their power, Rome will not dare to carelessly press eastward.”
The Son of Heaven seemed quite pleased with the Grand Commandant's assessment and moved on to the next topic without a word of debate.
Wang Mang sat there, his mouth practically hanging open at the sheer absurdity of their logic.
‘Are you serious? You're actually buying this? Why?’
What kind of addled mind simply assumed Rome would rely solely on brute force to threaten the Han?
Had the damages the Han suffered at Rome's hands so far truly stemmed from losing outright military clashes?
Furthermore, the resurgence of the nomadic tribes wasn't a threat to Rome—it was a catastrophic headache for the Han.
Once the nomads recovered their strength, would they be insane enough to challenge the Rome that had previously butchered them, or would they strike the Han that was already rotting from within?
The assumption that the nomads would act as a meat shield for the Han was a delusion born of supreme arrogance.
‘And more importantly, we need to uncover why the fractured nomads are suddenly uniting again! Does the Military Command even grasp the reality of this crisis? No... they must know, but they're intentionally burying the truth, aren't they?’
But that was not the only problem.
The new weaponry Rome allegedly deployed in their war against Tianzhu demanded an immediate and thorough investigation.
Yet, the Grand Commandant simply waved it off as idle gossip.
“‘A roar that shook heaven and earth, followed by explosions amidst thick smoke? A destructive force akin to lightning... The current leader of Rome must be blessed with divine powers to command thunder and lightning at will.’ That was the report we received. Naturally, it is an entirely baseless rumor.”
“So it is just nonsense, as expected?”
“Of course. How could any mortal command the heavens? Even if such divine authority existed, it would belong solely to the Son of Heaven, the sovereign of this world. Western barbarians could never dare dream of it. This is nothing but a fable spun by foreigners looking to exaggerate their battlefield exploits.”
At this, even the younger officials murmured in agreement, finding the logic sound.
After all, the reports arriving from Tianzhu defied all common sense.
For once, even Wang Mang did not think the Grand Commandant was entirely foolish.
From what he had heard, the Roman army utilized weapons that supposedly trapped lightning inside massive iron tubes before firing it.
Did capturing lightning inside an iron tube make any sense? Honestly, the answer had to be no.
But what if the rumors were true?
Taking an objective view of the situation... could the current Emperor of Rome actually be the one truly chosen by heaven?
From his own private inquiries, the territory of Rome—having now subjugated Tianzhu—was over twice the size of the Han empire.
The gap in technological prowess was equally blatant.
The harsh reality was that, at present, the Han had virtually no advantage over Rome.
To dismiss a great power that had conquered the entirety of the Western Regions as mere barbarians was an obsolete, delusional refusal to accept reality.
‘Something must be done... I have to do something...’
Stepping out of the imperial palace, Wang Mang wandered the streets aimlessly, the weight of his worries growing heavier by the day.
Even as he walked, the empire was marching methodically toward its doom.
Known as an idealist to a fault, watching the Han decay like this was absolute torture for Wang Mang.
One only had to venture to the outskirts of the capital, Chang'an, to see the horrific devastation with one's own two eyes.
It was not hard to imagine the horrors unfolding out in the remote provinces.
‘The root of the rot is the maternal relatives. Yet, even if I were to purge them and seize true power, I am a maternal relative as well...’
Furthermore, Wang Mang was currently nothing more than a rising star among the newly appointed officials.
Even if he wished to cull the powerful relatives holding key court positions, he severely lacked the factional power to do so.
Just as he heaved a deep sigh, concluding that no amount of plotting would yield an answer, a lifeline descended from the heavens.
“Are you Wang Mang, the second son of Lord Wang Man?”
“Hm? Who are...”
He hastily turned around to find a middle-aged man he had never met staring back at him.
When their eyes met, the stranger bowed politely in greeting.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Zhang Su. I manage a humble merchant caravan. I am also the nephew of the Marquis of Fuping, Lord Zhang Fang.”
“Ah, you are one of Lord Zhang Fang's men. A pleasure to meet you.”
Zhang Fang was one of the true power brokers favored by the current Emperor.
Although Wang Mang had never heard the name Zhang Su, he knew he needed to leave a good impression on anyone associated with Zhang Fang.
Wang Mang flashed a genial smile and asked,
“But what brings you to seek me out?”
“Well...”
Zhang Su glanced around the street before taking a step closer to Wang Mang.
In a voice so quiet that Wang Mang had to strain his ears to catch it, the merchant whispered words that struck like a bolt from the blue.
“Because I have received orders to lend our strength to the great enterprise you harbor in your heart, Lord Wang Mang.”
“What do you...?”
“What this empire needs most is someone to forge a new order. And do you not believe, deep down, that you are the one best suited for that role?”
The whisper slithered around him like a snake, leaving Wang Mang momentarily struck dumb.
He should have furiously berated the man for daring to speak of treason. Yet, betraying his conscious mind, a strange light was already beginning to gleam in his eyes.
It was the raw, undeniable glow of ambition.