The Forgotten Dynasty

The new steps to the old tomb of an ancient king

June 9^th, 1983: on Xianggan Mountain in Guangdong Province, a government dormitory is undergoing repairs. Suddenly, a shovel hits something hard enough to raise sparks. The workers assume they have hit a rock patch. They sulk, thinking their work will be that much harder, not knowing they have just uncovered a find that will shock the world.

Visitors are encouraged to leave a few propitiatory shekels before entering the tomb

They had indeed struck rock, but rock carefully quarried, shaped and spaced. After clearing aside a lot of dirt, the arrangement resembled an ancient roof. Deng Qing You, an archeologist working for the Ministry of Cultural Protection, happened to be nearby. On hearing of the discovery, he hastened to the site, and quickly surmised that the workers had uncovered an ancient tomb. The contents inside would give evidence of a dynasty theretofore all but lost in the annals of Chinese history.

Months of clearing and cleaning gave nary a hint as to which era the tomb belonged. That fall, on the afternoon of September 22^nd, the tomb was finally opened to reveal a skeleton with a seal placed on its ribcage. On the seal’s obverse, four characters in an ancient script – Wen Di xing xi.

A reason to take up letter-writing again

The characters unraveled the riddle. The resident of the tomb was none other than Zhao Mo, second emperor of the Nanyue Dynasty. A small southeastern realm, the Nanyue had been relegated to a vague role in China’s story. Existing on the fringes of the nascent Han empire, the Nanyue had left little legacy outside of a description in Sima Qian’s chronicles. However, it was well known that Zhao Mo had referred to himself as “Wen Di”. The characters on the artificact tell us that it is none other than “Wen Di’s travelling seal.” The story of the find quickly set the archeological world abuzz, craving more details about a time and place suddenly rescued from obscurity by a workman’s shovel.

The Nanyue line was founded by Zhao Tuo, a general under China’s original emperor, Qin Shihuang. Qin Shihuang’s reign was as brief as it was epochal. Even so, he found time to conquer present day Guangdong and Guangxi. General Zhao Tuo won stewardship of the Nanhai Commandery, a fort from which the Qin emperor commanded his new territory. Zhao moved the wheels of history when he remanded over half a million Han from central China to coastal Nanhai. The resultant cultural mélange flavors southern Chinese and Vietnamese tradition to this day. Proceed from the fact that the Vietnamese name for Nanyue is Namviet.

What kind of afterlife requires an ox and cart?

Zhao Tuo was an empire builder. After anti-Qin revolt toppled his emperor, he decided to form an independent realm of the territories previously under his charge. A bold move, to be sure, but one secured by the craggy mountains separating his new land from Northern China. Reinforcing the mountain passes, he swept west, taking portions of today’s Guangxi, Yunnan, and northern Vietnam. The kingdom of Nanyue was born of crisis, opportunity, and the ambitions of a man who would be king. Zhao Tuo made his capital at Panyu, today’s Guangzhou.

Fortune favors the bold. After a long struggle to reunify China, Han emperor Liu Bang mandated a policy of peace on all borders, giving his battered new state time to grow strong. He went so far as to officially appoint Zhao Tuo the King of Nanyue, and establish trade-ties with the new nation. Zhao Tuo was a vassal king in the eyes of the Han, but then the Han have never shied from claiming supremacy by default.

Like your mom’s good sofa – too valuable to actually sit on.

The contest to prove mastery came soon enough. Royal Han intrigue soon led to trade troubles with the Nanyue, enough to goad Zhao Tuo into attacking the Han’s Changsha kingdom. The Han sent a retaliatory expedition that met only plague and ruin in Nanyue’s perfervid climes. Flushed with victory, Zhao Tuo annexed two more kingdoms, Minyue and Oulo.

It is the nature of royal houses to lose in vigor what they gain in refinement. Zhao Tuo’s grandson, Zhao Mo, inherited the Nanyue crown. Yet the new king found himself so ill-equipped to stifle a Minyue revolt that he called on Han emperor Liu Che to send assistance. In gratitude, he sent his son Zhao Yingqi to be raised in Changsha, just as the sons of petty medieval kings in the Balkans surrendered heirs to be raised in Constantinople. Assimilation is the surest victory. By the time Zhao Yingqi returned to his kingdom, he felt obliged to ask the Han emperor to appoint his wife Jiu a queen, and his son Zhao Xing crown prince.

Even southern kings need some winter warmth.

After Zhao Yingqi’s death, the Han emperor pulled the strings he had woven during the second king’s sojourn in Changsha. He sent minister Anguo Shaoji to request the young king and his regent mother’s presence at the Han court, knowing full well Anguo had been Jiu’s lover. The affair began anew. Soon the people of Nanyue were ill at ease with their sovereigns, and rightly so. Both the prince and his mother wanted to submit as vassals to the Han. When they tried to talk the ministers of Nanyue into the deal, one feisty soul, Lu Jia, rose up and killed them both.

Knowing he would have no credibility as the new king, Lu Jia appointed Zhao Yingqi’s elder son Zhao Jiande the new ruler of Nanyue. A master at smelling weakness and opportunity, the Han emperor made his move, sending a massive fleet to take Pangyu. The coastal capital fell, and Nanyue was incorporated into the Han fold.

A pretty story, full of twists and turns, enough for at least three seasons of a CCTV historical fiction drama. However, China has enough of such stories to keep production crews busy until the sun burns out and TV’s electromagnetic principles no longer apply. Thanks to happenstance and good archeological work, though, the foregoing story has been fleshed out and proven, with a record of evidence on display at Guangzhou’s Nanyuewang Lingmu Museum.

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1. February 3rd, a Forgotten Anniversary
2. A Forgotten Present: Li Wei’s Inner Mongolia

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