The Rise of Jia Mi and His Literary Coterie
In the bloody coup that toppled Empress Jia Nanfeng, Jia Mi – her nephew and adopted heir to the powerful Jia Chong – was executed. Yet just months earlier, this man in his twenties had stood at the pinnacle of imperial favor. Backed by the empress, he wielded influence that rivaled the emperor’s.
Jia Mi lived in opulence: his mansion overflowed with rare treasures, attended by servants, singers, and dancers. He treated even high officials with contempt. Once, a Yellow Gate Attendant (a senior palace secretary) offended him slightly – Jia Mi had him beaten, insulted, and bound on the spot.
On another occasion, while playing chess with Crown Prince Sima Yu, a minor dispute arose. Prince Sima Ying of Chengdu, witnessing it, rebuked Jia Mi: “The crown prince is your future sovereign – show respect!” Jia Mi stormed off and complained to Empress Jia. Within days, Sima Ying was exiled.
Whispers spread through Luoyang: “Jia Mi’s power exceeds the Son of Heaven’s.”
A talented poet himself, Jia Mi cultivated an image as a patron of letters. He hosted lavish gatherings for aristocratic youths and scholarly “pure conversationalists” (qingtan enthusiasts). Flattered literati flocked to his door, hoping for patronage or office.
Over time, twenty-four men became his closest associates – dubbed the “Twenty-Four Friends”.
Stars and Sycophants Among the Twenty-Four
Among them were genuine literary giants:
- Pan Yue (Pan An), famed for both poetry and beauty;
- Lu Ji and Lu Yun, scions of Wu’s legendary general Lu Xun;
- Zuo Si, author of the monumentalThree Capitals Rhapsody;
- Liu Kun, later a heroic frontier defender;
- Shi Chong, the extravagantly wealthy noble; and his nephew Ouyang Jian, a noted philosopher.
Though all older than Jia Mi, they bowed low before him, praised him in verse, and echoed his whims. The most notorious were Pan Yue and Shi Chong. When their carriage met Jia Mi’s procession on the road, they would leap down, kneel in the dust, and kowtow until his retinue vanished – a spectacle that drew scorn from honest men.
Pan Yue: Genius and Shame
Pan Yue possessed the highest literary talent among the group – and the lowest moral character. Not only did he compose flattering poems for Jia Mi, but he also ghostwrote verses in Jia Mi’s name for others.
Worse, he played a direct role in the frame-up of Crown Prince Sima Yu. On the fateful night in 300 CE, it was Pan Yue who drafted the incriminating letter that Sima Yu – drugged and drowsy – was forced to copy. When the prince’s scribbled version missed words, Pan Yue forged additions in his handwriting to complete the “confession.”
His own mother, horrified, admonished him: “You have enough! Don’t push your luck!” But Pan Yue ignored her.
When Jia Mi fell, investigators traced the forged document to Pan Yue. He was sentenced to death – and his entire family, including his aged mother, was exterminated.
Shi Chong and the Tragedy of Green Pearl
Shi Chong, famed for his Golden Valley Garden Jingu Yuan) and obscene wealth, met a similar end. After Jia Mi’s downfall, Sima Lun and his advisor Sun Xiu seized power. Sun Xiu, hearing of Shi Chong’s concubine Green Pearl Lü Zhu) – renowned for her beauty – sent an envoy demanding she be handed over.
Shi Chong summoned all his courtesans and said, “Take any you like – but not Green Pearl.”
The envoy insisted: “I was ordered to takeonly her.”
Shi Chong refused. The envoy returned again and again – still refused.
Enraged, Sun Xiu dispatched soldiers. As they burst into the garden’s Cool Breeze Pavilion, Shi Chong cried to Green Pearl: “Because of you, I am ruined!”
She replied coldly: “Then I shall die for you.” And leapt to her death.
Shi Chong was arrested. At his execution, he lamented: “I’m not guilty – they only want my wealth!”
A guard mocked him: “If you knew riches bring ruin, why didn’t you give them away?”
Shi Chong could only nod helplessly.
At the execution ground, he saw Pan Yue and his family bound nearby. “How didyou end up here?” he asked bitterly.
Pan Yue wept: “We’re both past fifty, our hair white – never thought we’d walk this road together.”
With them died Ouyang Jian – a brilliant thinker whose philosophical writings earned lasting respect, yet whose alliance with Jia Mi cost him everything.
The Lu Brothers: From Literary Stars to Martyrs
Lu Ji and Lu Yun, grandsons of Lu Xun (who defeated Liu Bei at Yiling) and sons of Lu Kang, were literary prodigies from Eastern Wu. After Wu’s fall, they journeyed to Luoyang and sought out Zhang Hua, who welcomed them warmly: “Conquering Wu gave us many spoils – but gaining you two is the greatest!”
They rose to fame – but entangled themselves with Jia Mi, drawn into court intrigue.
During the War of the Eight Princes, Lu Ji first served Sima Lun, drafting imperial edicts. After Lun’s fall, he was condemned – but spared by Sima Ying of Chengdu.
Later, Sima Ying appointed Lu Ji Grand Commander of Hebei to lead an army against Sima Ai of Changsha – despite Lu Ji’s protests that he was a scholar, not a general.
In battle, his troops panicked at the sight of Emperor Hui riding with the enemy. The army collapsed. Blamed by jealous subordinates, Lu Ji and his brother Lu Yun were executed on Sima Ying’s orders.
As he faced death, Lu Ji recalled his childhood home near Huating (modern Songjiang, Shanghai), where cranes called across misty marshes. “Ah,” he sighed, “how I long to hear the cranes of Huating once more!”
Zuo Si: The One Who Walked Away
Not all of the Twenty-Four perished in disgrace. Zuo Si, born poor in Linzi, Shandong, compensated for modest intellect with relentless study. His earlyRhapsody on the Qi Capital earned notice, but his masterpiece was the Three Capitals Rhapsody – celebrating the capitals of Wei (Ye), Shu (Chengdu), and Wu (Jianye).
He spent ten years composing it, then enlisted scholars to annotate its dense allusions. The work became a sensation. So many copied it that paper prices soared in Luoyang – giving rise to the idiom “Luoyang paper is expensive” Luoyang zhi gui).
Fame brought him into Jia Mi’s circle. But as a commoner-born scholar, he found no real advancement. Disillusioned, he wrote his famousPoem on History, lamenting:
“Towering pines in deep ravines are shaded by saplings on the peak;
Noble youths occupy high posts, while true talents sink unseen.”
He severed ties with Jia Mi, left Luoyang, and retired to the provinces – thereby escaping the bloodbath of the princes’ wars and preserving his legacy.
Liu Kun: From Playboy to Patriot
Liu Kun, born to aristocracy, once indulged in poetry and pleasure, mingling with Jia Mi’s set. But as the empire crumbled, he underwent a profound transformation.
Appointed Inspector of Bingzhou (centered on Jinyang, modern Taiyuan), he confronted a dire threat: Liu Yuan, a Xiongnu chieftain, had declared the Han Zhao state and besieged northern China.
While others fled or schemed, Liu Kun fortified cities, rallied refugees, and defended the frontier with desperate courage. He became one of the few loyalists trying to hold the Jin realm together – his early vanity replaced by grim resolve.
Of all the Twenty-Four, Liu Kun alone redeemed himself through action – turning from court flatterer to national bulwark.
Epilogue: A Generation Lost
The “Twenty-Four Friends” embodied the tragic paradox of late Western Jin culture: brilliant minds seduced by power, trading integrity for access, poetry for patronage. Most paid with their lives. A few, like Zuo Si and Liu Kun, found redemption – one through retreat, the other through sacrifice.
Their story is not just one of personal failure, but of an entire elite class collapsing under the weight of its own ambition – just as the empire they served began to burn.
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