Chapter 105: Shanglin Garden, Imperial Guards Regiment

The Shanglin Garden was a grand imperial park expanded by Emperor Liu Che in the third year of the Jianyuan era (138 BCE) atop the ruins of an old Qin dynasty garden. It was vast in scale, housing numerous palaces and chambers, serving various functions and recreational activities. According to the "Book of Han · Old Rites," it was said: "Within the garden, hundreds of beasts were raised. The Son of Heaven hunted there in spring and autumn, capturing countless animals. There were seventy subsidiary palaces, accommodating thousands of horsemen and chariots." The garden comprised thirty-six enclaves, twelve palaces, and thirty-five pavilions. Spanning across the territories of Chang’an, Xianyang, Zhouzhi, Huxian, and Lantian counties, it extended over 300 li, with eight rivers—Ba, Chan, Jing, Wei, Feng, Hao, Lao, and Ju—coursing through it.

When Liu Che first ascended the throne, he was young and ambitious, eager to accomplish extraordinary feats. However, Empress Dowager Dou, who had long adhered to the Huang-Lao school of thought, disapproved of her grandson’s reckless endeavors and often obstructed his plans. Though Liu Che made a few attempts, lacking sufficient support and strength, he was unable to secure his position firmly and was forced to temporarily retreat and bide his time.

Still, during this low-profile period, Liu Che busied himself with various constructions in the eastern part of Shanglin Garden, which did not initially arouse much concern from Empress Dowager Dou. Unbeknownst to her, it was here that the young emperor established his elite imperial guard, the Yulin Army, and began nurturing a cadre of military leaders who would later spearhead campaigns against the Xiongnu. Foremost among them was the commander of the Yulin Army himself—Grand Master Wei Qing.

If Empress Dowager Dou had known that the eight hundred soldiers trained within the Yulin Army would become the backbone of the Han cavalry and the core leadership opposing the Xiongnu hordes, it would have utterly shattered her lifelong commitment to governing through Huang-Lao principles. One wonders what she would have made of it.

Now, in the fifth year of the Yuanguang era, Liu Che has held absolute power for five years. Since the siege of Mayi, he has firmly grasped military authority for over three years. Today, whether in civil governance or military prowess, he no longer has to tread carefully or worry about others’ opinions. The central army of Chang’an—the Northern and Southern Armies—has been rigorously trained under his watch for several years and has shown considerable progress. Yet even now, the Yulin Army from Shanglin Garden often rides alongside Liu Che across the wilderness, drilling tactics and preparing for battle, with Wei Qing rarely far from the emperor’s side.

This New Year, Chang’an remains bustling and festive, with celebrations at the Weiyang Palace ongoing for several days. Such grand occasions naturally call for relaxation and enjoyment.

Yet Liu Che is not within the Weiyang Palace but at Shanglin Garden.

Though the day’s weather is decent, a gentle breeze sweeps across the open fields, imparting a slight chill.

The eight hundred Yulin cavalrymen gallop freely in the wilds. Rather than being hindered by the northern cold, their vigorous energy seems to generate a heat that dispels the surrounding chill. Wherever these elite riders pass, heat swirls and a fierce aura of combativeness prevails.

Today’s activity is not a military drill or battle formation but a hunt.

Naturally, Shanglin Garden boasts ample hunting grounds and abundant game.

At the forefront of the Yulin cavalry is a young man clad in commanding armor. His horsemanship is exceptional, his steed agile and spirited, but more remarkable still is his archery skill.

Galloping, loosening the reins, drawing the bow, nocking the arrow, and releasing it—all his movements are crisp and decisive. If one were to describe his demeanor in a single phrase, it would be “domineering.”

Each arrow flies true, rarely missing its mark. One by one, animals fall under his precise shots, many struck through the head or pierced through the eye. Though he has taken several kills, the armored youth shows no sign of pausing. The trophies no longer captivate him; as soon as an arrow is loosed, he does not glance back but fixes his gaze ahead, urging his horse onward to seek the next quarry.

The spoils already gained fail to excite him further; what fuels his fervor is the adversary before him.

He cares not for the trophies, his eyes fixed only on the next mountain to climb, the next leap to conquer. He desires not the glory of a single victory but the fulfillment that comes from subduing his opponent—a relentless sense of triumph.

Victory is always intoxicating; consecutive victories can drive one to madness.

To command life and death over prey at will is to wield true dominion.

This is Liu Che.

…

Wei Qing follows closely behind Liu Che, his face thoughtful.

For two hours now, Liu Che has led the Yulin Army on this hunt without pause. In all that time, he has neither stopped nor glanced back to speak with anyone. He hunts alone, relentlessly pursuing and slaying game. Such intense horsemanship and archery cause Wei Qing to worry.

His concern is not for Liu Che’s physical endurance; after all, the emperor at thirteen had wrestled a black bear with a dagger, and his physique surpasses that of ordinary men and even most generals. Liu Che’s martial prowess is exceptional. Wei Qing, despite his own skills, knows he might not best the emperor in combat. Yet what makes Liu Che formidable is not merely his personal skill but his mind and wisdom.

It is precisely because of this that Wei Qing’s worry deepens.

His majesty’s behavior today is recklessly bold.

In recent years, Liu Che has grown steadily more composed and rarely acts impulsively. His self-control has reached a remarkable height. To all observers, the twenty-seven-year-old emperor now increasingly embodies the qualities of a sage and enlightened ruler.

He possesses great talent, enabling him early in his reign to call for filial and virtuous officials from the commanderies and recruit capable men; he has boldness, demonstrated by his swift consolidation of military power soon after ascending the throne, appointing Wei Qing to command without the traditional tiger tally; and he has resilience, shown by his voluntary seclusion in Shanglin Garden to train the Yulin Army during times of political instability.

Now, with growing maturity, Liu Che’s decisiveness and sagacity shine through. Wei Qing believes that his emperor rivals even the great Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor, in stature.

Hence, Wei Qing’s special concern today.

He knows that some momentous event must have provoked the emperor’s grand hunt at Shanglin Garden.

Though on the surface the hunt seems harmless.

Last night, a military dispatch arrived from a border commandery.

This is the only clue Wei Qing has heard that might explain the cause.

…

After the entire morning, Liu Che finally halts.

Everyone quietly exhales in relief.

Today, the emperor’s presence was overwhelmingly imposing.

Liu Che calmly instructs the Yulin officers to prepare their hunting spoils for the midday meal, then withdraws to a quiet spot and beckons Wei Qing over.

“Sit,” Liu Che says casually, settling himself on the ground and gesturing to a place beside him.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Wei Qing replies cautiously, approaching and sitting, careful not to speak out of turn.

Wei Qing’s wariness is not due to timidity nor a lack of closeness with Liu Che, but a reflex born of instinct. When the emperor is at peace, he appears kind and approachable, even capable of harmless jest. Yet when his latent ferocity surfaces, whether intentionally or not, no one dares meet his gaze. It is as if an invisible mountain weighs down upon them, rendering movement difficult.

“You have a keen eye, Wei Qing,” Liu Che remarks, smoothing his robes and curling his lips into a casual smile—a smile not warm but rather proud and unyielding, yet not rebellious.

“Your Majesty, Wei Qing does not understand your meaning,” Wei Qing replies, bowing his head respectfully.

Liu Che’s gaze shifts to the Yulin soldiers preparing roasted meat, his expression unchanged as he poses an apparently unrelated question: “If I gave you two thousand cavalrymen to penetrate deep into the desert and strike the Xiongnu, would you dare?”

Liu Che looks at Wei Qing, asking plainly: Do you dare?

“Your Majesty’s order is my command, I would lay down my life without hesitation!” Wei Qing replies, startled. At that moment, a faint realization dawns on him, compelling him to respond with solemnity.

“You dare. But can you prevail?” Liu Che inquires. “What scale of victory can you achieve?”

Though authoritative, Liu Che’s tone carries no doubt or reproach—only inquiry.

“Your Majesty…” Wei Qing lowers his head, momentarily at a loss for words.

Liu Che waves his hand. “Rise. I have no special intent.”

“Leading two thousand cavalry trained for less than half a year to cross the Great Wall and penetrate eight hundred li into the northern desert to strike the Xiongnu—this youth must possess the heart of a bear and the courage of a leopard,” Liu Che remarks, withdrawing his gaze as his tone lightens, amused. “Where does he find such confidence to attempt this unprecedented feat?”

“Does he not realize that if he fails, it would cost far more than the lives of two thousand soldiers?” Liu Che uses a rhetorical question but his voice carries no uncertainty. He is merely stating a fact.

Wei Qing hears these words and understands immediately. How could he not?

All these years of preparation were meant for this day—to march northward and annihilate the Xiongnu in the desert.

Liu Che is not truly asking others; he is asking himself.

The emperor hands Wei Qing a military dispatch. “Look. This victory in Shanggu Commandery is no small matter.”

Wei Qing’s slightly trembling hand respectfully accepts the report and scans it roughly before being struck dumb with shock.

“Over three thousand five hundred Han cavalry sallied forth from Qiansang City to confront over ten thousand invading Xiongnu horsemen. The battle lasted more than twenty days, with over five thousand enemy heads taken. In this campaign, Cavalry Colonel Qin Cheng led two thousand newly trained cavalrymen from Qiansang, crossing the Great Wall and advancing eight hundred li north into the desert to strike the Xiongnu’s Huyang tribe, beheading nearly a thousand. Later, encountering pursuing forces, they slew over a thousand more and returned victorious. Subsequently, combined with Li Guang, they crushed three thousand fierce Xiongnu riders, taking over a thousand heads. Throughout the campaign, Shanggu's defending forces suffered only about a thousand casualties…”

What kind of feat is this?

Impossible!

Yes, this was Wei Qing’s first reaction upon reading the report.

Any man would first think this.

But after reading the detailed account, only four words remained in Wei Qing’s mind: unbelievable.

No wonder the emperor acted so unusually today.

Now Wei Qing finally understood.

Such a victory would shake even an emperor.

“This Cavalry Colonel I personally appointed, the military resources I personally approved for Shanggu Commandery, and in less than six months, the return has not disappointed me,” Liu Che concluded after Wei Qing finished reading.

Wei Qing bitterly thought to himself: such a great achievement warrants more than a mere “has not disappointed me.” The emperor’s actions were mostly lip service, and the resources allocated were merely compensations for heavy losses in Shanggu’s earlier victories.

Yet Wei Qing soon regained his composure.

Of course, the emperor must speak thus. What else could he say? No matter how pleased, he would not show it too openly.

“Your Majesty, the report mentions light and heavy cavalry—I had never heard of such a distinction before,” Wei Qing remarked, returning the report.

Liu Che nodded. “The reason Shanggu Commandery achieved this great victory, beyond the capable leadership of Li Guang and Qin Cheng and the element of surprise, lies chiefly in this division between light and heavy cavalry. Reading this report carefully, without this differentiation, such a triumph would have been impossible. That is why I wanted to discuss it with you today.”

At this moment, the Yulin soldiers had finished preparing the roasted meat. Liu Che approached and personally sliced a few pieces, eating as he began discussing the matters of Shanggu Commandery with Wei Qing.