Chapter 6: Liu Bang’s Heart Turns Cold—Han Xin Deserves Death!
Liu Bang felt a twinge of sorrow in his heart.
He had a premonition that Han Xin might rebel in the future, but it was only a vague feeling. Now, knowing for certain that Han Xin harbored rebellious intentions filled him with genuine disappointment and regret.
The founding of the Han dynasty owed much to Han Xin’s irreplaceable contributions.
After being assigned by Xiang Yu to govern the regions of Shu and Hanzhong, Han Xin analyzed the situation and adopted the strategy of openly repairing the plank roads while secretly crossing the Chen Cang Pass. This swift maneuver secured most of the Guanzhong area and pacified the Three Qins, providing a stable rear base for Liu Bang, laying a solid foundation for his future domination of the realm.
Later, Han Xin personally led the army to repeated victories in the north, annihilating Wei and Dai, defeating Zhao and subduing Yan. Not only did he eliminate threats to the Han army’s flanks, but he also greatly expanded their sphere of influence. This allowed Liu Bang to tie down a large portion of Xiang Yu’s forces, giving him more strategic flexibility on the main battlefield.
In battles at Jingxing, Weishui, and Gaixia, Han Xin’s achievements were monumental. He could be called the foremost military general of the Han dynasty.
Liu Bang truly did not want to take action against Han Xin. Even if Han Xin had committed other crimes, or been disrespectful to his emperor, he could find countless reasons to forgive him. But treason was unforgivable.
From a public standpoint, Han Xin’s rebellion would plunge the newly unified Han dynasty into chaos again, bringing disaster to the people and leaving the fields barren.
From a personal standpoint, the Han dynasty might be overthrown or replaced, wasting all his lifelong efforts and betraying the old comrades who had followed him.
Han Xin must die!
A chill ran through Liu Bang’s heart as imperial dignity surged forth. His hands hung at his sides, his face solemn, already pondering how to deal with Han Xin.
Zhang Liang remained silent nearby, but his pale fingers gently pinched the white silk of his robe, betraying his unease.
He had gradually withdrawn from court affairs; if not for the sudden arrival of a man from the future, he would never have come to the Linhua Palace. The worst had happened—because of Han Xin’s treason, he was once again drawn into the political maelstrom.
Zhang Liang felt anxious. Chu’s forces were strong and abundant; Han Xin’s unparalleled command meant that if war broke out, the Han realm would once again be thrown into turmoil.
Stepping forward, Zhang Liang sat on Lu Xuan’s bed and spoke softly, “Lord Lu, this man commands great prestige and can mobilize armies. If he were to raise troops, he would be invincible in battle, unstoppable in conquest.”
“The dynasty is newly founded, with all things in flux. If war breaks out now, the state could be overturned and the sacred order upended.”
“Lord Lu, do you have any good solutions?”
Liu Bang glanced at Zhang Liang and nodded in tacit approval.
Indeed, if Han Xin could be dealt with simply and swiftly, it would be best.
He did not want to confront Han Xin on the battlefield—or rather, he lacked confidence in conquering Chu outright.
More worrisome was the possibility that if war erupted with Chu, other non-Han lords across the realm might also rise up, plunging the empire into complete chaos and perhaps sealing Liu Bang’s fate like Xiang Yu.
Who could say if the world would ever see a second Liu Bang?
“Mobilize armies and be invincible?” Lu Xuan was taken aback. Was Li Shanchang really so strong a commander?
For the elders Fang and Ji to praise him so highly?
No, historically, Li Shanchang’s military command was not considered strong, even relatively weak.
During Zhu Yuanzhang’s founding of the Ming dynasty, Li Shanchang mainly handled political affairs and logistics in the rear, rarely directly commanding troops on the front lines.
In surviving records, there is scant evidence of Li Shanchang independently leading large-scale battles to victory, a sharp contrast to generals like Xu Da and Chang Yuchun.
Though Li Shanchang had some decision-making role in military administration, rewards, and punishments, this was more as a strategist advising Zhu Yuanzhang rather than a professional general formulating comprehensive strategy and commanding troops.
His focus was on transporting grain, supplying equipment, managing the rear, and maintaining harmony between army and civilians. He showed skill in coordinating staff and soldiers and enforcing discipline, but mainly to ensure smooth logistics and order, not actual combat training or command.
Li Shanchang was primarily a civil official among the founding ministers, lacking direct command over troops or a military faction.
For Fang and Ji to claim Li Shanchang was an invincible commander seemed exaggerated.
“Wait, perhaps their meaning wasn’t that Li Shanchang personally commanded troops well, but that he could mobilize the collective force of the Huaixi military commanders, who would be unstoppable if they rebelled.”
“That would explain it clearly.”
It’s important to remember that Zhu Yuanzhang feared and purged Li Shanchang for many reasons. Most crucially, Li was the leading civil minister among the Huaixi aristocracy and had close relations with many military generals. A founding hero capable of mobilizing both civil and military factions, and still alive—given the precedent of Sima Yi’s rise—was a terrifying prospect.
Consider the Huaixi generals involved in the Li Shanchang case: Marquis of Ji’an Lu Zhongheng, Marquis of Yan’an Tang Shengzong, Marquis of Pingliang Fei Ju, Marquis of Jining Gu Jing, Marquis of Gongchang Guo Xing, Duke of Haiguo Wu Zhen, and additionally Duke of Liang Lan Yu...
These were the recorded generals friendly with Li Shanchang, but who knows how many more in secret? If Zhu Yuanzhang had died before Li Shanchang and he gave the signal, who could say how many generals would rally to him?
Li Shanchang had the power to mobilize many generals. If Zhu Yuanzhang and his heir Zhu Biao both died, calling him invincible would not be an exaggeration.
“As for handling this man...” Lu Xuan pondered.
His current plan was to send elders Fang, Ji, and He from the Far East to meet Zhu Yuanzhang.
With various medical treatments, he was confident Zhu Biao would not die prematurely.
Thus, not all the Ming aristocrats from history would be purged—some could be retained.
If Zhu Di hadn’t launched the Jingnan Campaign and repeatedly campaigned in the northern deserts, Lu Xuan felt that after Zhu Yuanzhang’s purges, the remaining generals lacked the strength to resist foreign invaders.
Retain some loyal Huaixi generals and only deal with Li Shanchang.
He thought it a pity to have these aristocrats all killed; if they must die, it should be on the battlefield.
After some thought, Lu Xuan said, “I have a good idea.”
“Civil and military opposition.”
“We can suggest that this man be appointed as the chief civil official of the dynasty, then have him implement various policies targeting the military faction to erode their interests.”
“As time passes, even the generals loyal to him will gradually grow estranged. By then, it will be much easier to eliminate him.”
This approach had both advantages and disadvantages, but when dealing with Li Shanchang, the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.
“No decision or method is perfect. I’m merely proposing the best current plan. This way, when the time comes to purge him, there will be no fear of him raising troops in rebellion.”
Historically, Li Shanchang never had the chance to rebel, but vigilance was necessary.
After all, with many of his suggestions, history itself might change.
No dynasty, ancient or modern, enjoys absolute loyalty; people prioritize their interests. If Li Shanchang could no longer offer benefits to the Huaixi generals and instead gradually undermined them, how could they consent?
Then, purging Li Shanchang alone, with only civil power, would be much easier.
Moreover, Fang and Ji’s questions chiefly concerned fears of Li Shanchang’s uprising, not about purging the civil officials’ faction. So Lu Xuan only addressed the relevant issue.
Step by step, he would transmit his various recommendations to the capital, arousing Zhu Yuanzhang’s curiosity and anticipation, hastening his own summons.
“Well, excellent idea!” Liu Bang stroked his beard and suddenly laughed heartily.
This plan was indeed clever!
Han Xin held considerable prestige among the military; if he rebelled, it would rely mainly on the generals who once followed him and his own command.
If he were transferred to the capital as a civil official,
Han Xin would lose the chance to recruit and expand his forces in Chu, while remaining under strict surveillance.
Following Lu Xuan’s advice, as a civil official, Han Xin would then formulate policies targeting the military and even the soldiers.
Han Xin would ultimately be isolated and powerless!
There was another hidden advantage Liu Bang realized.
Han Xin was aloof by nature—simply put, poor at socializing and quick-tempered—with almost no close friends. As a civil official, he would have to learn how to navigate court politics and build relationships, a fatal weakness.
He could not build a faction of civil officials in the capital.
Perhaps this was the meaning behind his quiet demotion.
“Lord Lu, I will immediately write this plan into a letter and send someone to the capital!” Liu Bang grasped Lu Xuan’s hand with a smile.