Triumph and Tears in Luoyang
In the year 280 CE, the Jin dynasty finally extinguished the state of Wu, completing the reunification of China. When Emperor Wu of Jin (Sima Yan) received news in Luoyang that Sun Hao, the last ruler of Wu, had surrendered, he first laughed with joy – then burst into tears. His ministers, alarmed, asked why. Wiping his eyes, the emperor sighed, “I am thinking of General Yang Hu, who passed away before seeing this day. Without his strategy years ago, how could we have achieved this victory? This triumph belongs to Grand Tutor Yang!”
Moved by gratitude, Emperor Wu posthumously honored Yang Hu’s widow, Lady Xiahou, as “Lady of Wan Sui Village,” bestowing upon her 10,000 bolts of silk and 10,000 hu of grain. He then announced that all military commanders would be rewarded according to their merits. At court, debate erupted over who deserved the greatest credit. Most agreed it came down to three men: Du Yu, Wang Jun, and Wang Hun.
Du Yu: The Scholar-General Who Chose Humility
Though Du Yu never personally entered Jianye (the Wu capital), he had commanded forces along the northern bank of the Yangtze, captured Guangzhou, and provided crucial strategic counsel throughout the campaign. Respected for his wisdom and restraint, he was enfeoffed as Marquis of Dangyang – a modest title by imperial standards. But Du Yu cared little for rank. Aware that emperors often grew wary of victorious generals in times of peace, he repeatedly petitioned to relinquish his military command. Emperor Wu refused each time, so Du Yu remained Governor of Jing Province – but shifted his focus to civil governance.
He led soldiers and civilians in constructing irrigation canals and waterways, dramatically boosting agricultural output and transportation. The local people, grateful, hailed him as “Father Du.” Known also as “Du’s Arsenal” (Du Wuku) for his vast knowledge – he read widely, wrote extensively, and mastered diverse fields – Du Yu treated fame and fortune with detachment. Emperor Wu, recognizing his sincerity and lack of ambition, trusted him completely.
Wang Jun vs. Wang Hun: A Clash of Egos and Influence
The real trouble arose between Wang Jun and Wang Hun. Wang Jun had led the Jin navy down the Yangtze, directly besieging Jianye and forcing Sun Hao’s surrender – arguably the decisive act of the war. Confident in his achievement, he expected top honors. But Wang Hun, a powerful courtier and the emperor’s son-in-law (his son Wang Ji had married the blind Princess Changshan, fulfilling a personal wish of the emperor), refused to concede.
Wang Hun had indeed won a major battle north of the river, crushing Wu’s chancellor Zhang Ti and annihilating tens of thousands of troops. “Without my victory,” he told his subordinates, “how could Wang Jun have sailed so easily into Jianye? Yet now he claims all the glory – I cannot accept this!”
Adding insult to injury, just before Wang Jun reached Jianye, an imperial edict ordered him to place himself under Wang Hun’s command. Wang Hun sent messengers by small boat to coordinate the final assault, but Wang Jun, believing momentum was critical, pressed on without waiting – and captured the capital. Enraged, Wang Hun accused Wang Jun of insubordination and urged the emperor to punish him.
The Emperor’s Delicate Balancing Act
Emperor Wu issued a mild reprimand to Wang Jun, who – now over seventy – was devastated. In a lengthy memorial, Wang Jun defended himself: the original orders emphasized speed and direct assault; later instructions placed him under Grand Commandant Jia Chong, not Wang Hun; and only after Sun Hao surrendered did he receive the order to submit to Wang Hun’s authority. “How can I be blamed,” he wrote, “when I acted in accordance with earlier commands and seized the moment?”
But Wang Hun wasn’t done. He submitted a letter from his subordinate Zhou Jun, accusing Wang Jun’s troops of looting the Wu palace and setting it ablaze. Wang Jun countered fiercely: the fire was started by Wu loyalists during chaos; his men actually helped extinguish it. He executed thirteen of his own soldiers for minor infractions and even returned twenty looters – caught by his officer Ma Qian – to Zhou Jun, proving they were Zhou’s men, not his.
Emperor Wu, now convinced of Wang Jun’s innocence, wished to drop the matter. Yet Wang Hun, backed by his royal connection and court allies, kept pressing. His son Wang Ji spread rumors that Wang Jun, once popular in Yi Province, was now winning hearts in Jianye – perhaps plotting rebellion. Though the emperor dismissed these claims, he couldn’t humiliate his son-in-law.
Two months later, the official rewards were announced: Wang Hun was elevated to Duke and named General Who Conquers the East; Wang Jun received only a marquisate and the title “General Who Assists the State” – clearly second place.
A Veteran’s Outburst and a Wise Counsel
Furious and humiliated, Wang Jun returned to Luoyang bitter and vocal. He complained openly, even confronting the emperor with angry outbursts – once storming out mid-audience without formal leave. Emperor Wu, though displeased, chose leniency, remembering Wang Jun’s age and service.
His subordinate Fan Tong grew deeply worried. “You’ve won great merit,” he warned, “but you’re failing to protect yourself through humility. This path leads to disaster.”
Wang Jun retorted, “Am I not speaking truth?”
Fan Tong lowered his voice: “Say instead that victory came from the emperor’s virtue and the collective effort of all generals. Claim no personal glory. Like Lin Xiangru yielding to Lian Po, your restraint will shame Wang Hun into silence.”
Wang Jun reflected – and remembered Deng Ai, the general who conquered Shu decades earlier, only to be falsely accused by Zhong Hui and executed. “I spoke out fearing the same fate,” he admitted. “But words bring no peace… Perhaps my heart is too narrow.” He resolved to follow Fan Tong’s advice.
Redemption Through Silence
From then on, Wang Jun never mentioned his own deeds. Instead, he praised the emperor’s wisdom and the bravery of fellow officers. Courtiers, hearing this, began to pity him. Scholars like Qin Xiu and Meng Kang submitted memorials: “‘General Who Assists the State’ is a title for those with minor merit or familial ties – not for the man who crushed Wu in weeks! Even granting him all of Wu’s treasures would be fitting!”
Touched by their appeals and his own guilt, Emperor Wu promoted Wang Jun first to “General Who Guards the State,” then to “General Who Pacifies the Army” – a prestigious post granting him a voice in central government. Public opinion settled, and Wang Jun, relieved, privately thanked Fan Tong.
He had learned his lesson: glory and disgrace alike rested in the emperor’s hands. In his final years, he abandoned bitterness, indulged in fine food and wine, and even built an elaborate tomb lined with pine and cypress. He died peacefully at eighty.
The Dawn – and Decline – of the Taikang Era
With the empire unified, Emperor Wu turned to governance. He disbanded local militias, prioritized agriculture, and introduced the ‘zhan tian’ (land allotment) and ‘ke tian’ (taxed cultivation) systems, limiting aristocratic landholdings and granting peasants rights to reclaimed fields. Grain stores swelled, population grew, and tax revenues rose – ushering in what historians later called the “Taikang Prosperity.”
Courtiers hailed the emperor as sage-like. Flattered, Sima Yan began to indulge in luxury, revealing the complacency beneath his early achievements. The golden age, it seemed, carried within it the seeds of future decay.
Leave a Reply