Chapter 11: The Heavenly Mandate and the Pacification of the Realm!

“King of Equal Rank”—this title seems fitting for now.”

“But the power it entails requires careful deliberation,” Xiao He mused.

“Deliberate then,” Liu Bang commanded.

The assembly began their discussion.

“First, the status of the ‘King of Equal Rank’ must surpass that of other feudal kings. Only then can Han Xin be persuaded to relinquish his feudal title and accept this new rank. My thought is that in ceremonial occasions, he should enjoy privileges nearly equal to those of the emperor; for example, in court, his position might be second only to the emperor’s, or in grand rituals and assemblies, his seating should reflect a status symbolizing equality with the sovereign.”

“Moreover, when the King of Equal Rank enters the palace to pay respects, he should be exempt from the traditional kneeling homage required of common subjects, merely bowing instead, to emphasize his unique standing.”

“At present, all kings within our Han Dynasty, whether of the imperial clan or not, bear the title ‘One-Character King.’ Therefore, the ‘Equal Rank’ in ‘King of Equal Rank’ must be emphasized, but under no circumstances shall Han Xin wield military authority, nor shall he command troops within his domain or any designated military zones.”

“As long as we restrict Han Xin’s military power, he becomes a tiger without claws—life and death are at the emperor’s discretion alone.”

“Lu Xuan once suggested that we institute new policies targeting military generals and entrust Han Xin with their promulgation. This way, Han Xin can feel he still holds authority, yet he will alienate the military faction and be despised by the army, eliminating any future threat.”

From dawn until dusk, Zhang Liang, Xiao He, and the others debated endlessly.

Only as the sun was setting did they reach a conclusion.

“Let it be so,” Liu Bang nodded, then ordered an immediate nationwide announcement of the ‘King of Equal Rank’ office, disseminating its honor and prestige to all provinces and counties.

However, they would not summon Han Xin to the capital immediately.

First, they would ensure every region understood the dignity of the ‘King of Equal Rank’ title, then officially confer it upon Han Xin, expecting him to accept willingly.

Building momentum was crucial to achieve the best effect.

Liu Bang assigned Xiao He to oversee this matter, and Xiao He hurriedly withdrew.

“Almost forgot—besides breakfast, no meals have been brought to Lu Xuan all day!” Liu Bang’s expression changed suddenly.

Lu Xuan’s position was too special; no one else was permitted contact with him except the palace attendant assigned to tend to his daily needs.

This meant that aside from that attendant, no one was allowed near him, and the attendant only managed his living needs, not his meals, to avoid mistakes.

Now, Lu Xuan had gone an entire day without eating—he must be starving!

“Go quickly!”

“Don’t let this future man starve!”

“Who knows how many meals a day he’s used to in his time; missing one or two might be fatal. He seems rather delicate!”

Everyone sprang into action, bustling about.

In a small room beside the Linhua Palace, Lu Xuan barely perceived time passing, judging it only by the growls of his stomach.

His stomach had been rumbling for quite some time.

Why hadn’t Ji Shu and the others arrived yet?

Had something happened?

“Sigh…” Though things seemed to be moving in a good direction, Lu Xuan felt melancholy. Being blind was hard to endure, especially with no one to talk to—lonely and dull.

Then came the sound of footsteps.

Lu Xuan’s ears pricked up; losing sight had sharpened his hearing. The footsteps were familiar—surely Ji Shu and company had come.

“Lord Lu, we were busy today, so we’re late.”

“Quick, get up and eat.”

Zhang Liang and Liu Bang each carried a steaming bowl of millet porridge and sunflower greens, placing them before Lu Xuan, fearing he might have starved.

“You’ve finally come! I was about to die of hunger!” Lu Xuan, assisted by the attendant, grasped the bowl and hungrily devoured his food.

He finished two bowls in one go, mumbling, “Bring two more—I’m starving.”

Indeed, he was quite famished. Though lying still most of the day, his mind had been racing, consuming great energy.

“All right, I’ll have more millet porridge heated,” Zhang Liang said, rising quickly to summon someone.

After a while, having consumed four bowls of millet porridge and three bowls of sunflower greens, Lu Xuan contentedly burped and deftly reached for his right leg to light a cigarette, but then sighed deeply.

Such a pity.

“Why so melancholic, Lord Lu? In three months, your sight will return, and you’ll be able to see His Majesty,” Zhang Liang said, taking Lu Xuan’s hand with concern.

He truly feared Lu Xuan might succumb to despair because of his blindness.

If death was to come, it should be postponed as long as possible.

“Sigh, it’s nothing—just a bit homesick,” Lu Xuan sighed. He had no attachments; his parents had him late in life and passed away before his graduation. His only familiar companions were friends and classmates, who would fare well without him. He was merely nostalgic.

“I’m grateful you’re willing to keep me company. Being a man from the future in this alien ancient world stirs strange emotions. You need not mind them,” Lu Xuan explained.

Liu Bang and Zhang Liang remained silent, understanding Lu Xuan’s feelings to some extent.

Putting themselves in his position—if they were transported to an unfamiliar era, they would feel the same.

In truth, he was a pitiable soul.

If it were possible, they would never want Lu Xuan to be killed in three months, but the emperor is merciless, and the court allows no personal sentiment.

Suppressing his turmoil, Liu Bang turned to the matter at hand.

“Lord Lu, earlier you mentioned you had advice regarding the current kings within the realm. What is your counsel?”

“What issues do these feudal kings present that they must be eliminated within this generation?”

Lu Xuan’s expression grew serious.

“The problems caused by these kings are enormous,” he began.

“During the early days of the dynasty, the borderlands were unstable. His Majesty sought to strengthen control by granting fiefs to his sons at strategic points. These kings commanded strong forces capable of defending the frontier against foreign invasions, fulfilling the role of ‘repelling outsiders.’”

“They held local armies ready to respond swiftly to military threats. Compared to central mobilization, the kings’ rapid responses to skirmishes, such as small cavalry raids, ensured timely defense without awaiting imperial orders, thus securing border safety.”

“The emperor sought to protect the royal house through these feudal kings, trusting his sons’ blood ties to loyally support the new emperor after his passing, maintaining the dynasty’s rule. Scattered nationwide, these kings formed a protective network, aiding the throne in times of crisis, preventing powerful ministers, relatives, or factions from usurping the crown, ensuring stable succession—a concept known as ‘auxiliary kings.’”

“Additionally, the emperor harbored suspicion towards his civil and military ministers. By empowering the kings, he hoped to balance their influence. The kings wielded political power within their domains, overseeing local administrations, creating a new equilibrium between central and regional authorities. Ministers seeking dominance would have to reckon with these kings’ checks, preventing power grabs akin to those in the Han and Tang eras.”

At this, Lu Xuan shook his head.

“Yet these kings not only caused chaos early on but also became one of the reasons for the dynasty’s downfall.”

“Indeed, a future event known as the ‘Fengtian Jingnan’ will occur.”