The Scholar Behind the Pseudonym

In the tumultuous political landscape of the late Tang and Five Dynasties period, He Ning (898–955) stood as a paradoxical figure—a high-ranking official who secretly authored a collection of romantic poetry. Born in Xuchang (modern Shandong), He Ning rose to become Chancellor of the Later Jin dynasty and was later enfeoffed as Duke of Lu. His literary output spanned six collections, including works on statecraft (Yanlun), moral philosophy (Xiaoti), and judicial cases (Yiyu). Yet his most controversial work, the Xianglian Ji (Perfumed Sachet Collection), brimming with sensual verses about love and beauty, was deliberately attributed to the renowned Tang poet Han Wo (844–923).

This act of literary disguise reveals the tension between personal expression and public reputation in imperial China. As He Ning ascended the bureaucratic ladder, the risque nature of his poetry became a liability. His solution—pseudonymous publication—allowed the work to circulate while shielding his official dignity.

A Calculated Revelation

He Ning’s deception was neither complete nor accidental. In the preface to his Youyi Ji (Artistic Pursuits Collection), he cryptically noted: “My Xianglian Ji and Yingjin Ji collections have not been circulated publicly.” This carefully planted clue, preserved by his descendants, ensured posterity would uncover his authorship. The books remained in his family for generations, bearing his seals as proof.

This dual strategy—concealment paired with deliberate hints—reflects the complex dance between censorship and legacy in Chinese literary history. Unlike Western authors who might embrace pseudonyms for creative freedom, He Ning’s maneuver was defensive, protecting his political standing while ensuring his literary immortality.

The Cultural Paradox of Tang Erotica

The Xianglian tradition—poetry celebrating feminine beauty and romantic encounters—flourished despite Confucian propriety. Works like Han Wo’s (ostensibly He Ning’s) collection featured vivid depictions:

“Her jade-white fingers pluck the pipa’s strings,
While silken sleeves conceal half-shaded cheeks…”

Such verses walked a tightrope between artistic appreciation and moral transgression. The Tang dynasty’s relative openness allowed this genre to thrive, but as Neo-Confucianism gained influence in the Song era, officials like He Ning faced heightened scrutiny. His solution became a template for later scholars navigating similar dilemmas.

Authentication and the Art of Forgery

The case intersects with broader Song dynasty concerns about artistic authenticity. Contemporary scholars like Shen Kuo (1031–1095) documented rampant forgery in calligraphy and painting, where works were routinely attributed to masters like Wang Xizhi. He Ning’s reverse strategy—a genuine work disguised as another’s—highlights how reputation shaped artistic reception.

As Shen Kuo observed in Dream Pool Essays, collectors often valued names over quality: “They purchase based on hearsay, calling it ‘ear authentication’.” In this context, He Ning’s attribution to Han Wo—a respected poet—guaranteed his work’s survival in an era when authorship determined value.

Legacy: From Subterfuge to Canon

Modern scholarship confirms the Xianglian Ji’s dual legacy. While Hu Daojing challenged Shen Kuo’s claim, the very debate underscores how He Ning’s tactic succeeded—his poetry entered the canon through Han Wo’s reputation, yet his authorship was preserved through familial transmission.

The collection influenced later “palace style” poetry and became a reference point for discussions about literati self-censorship. Its survival strategy mirrors contemporaneous developments in painting, where artists like Dong Yuan pioneered techniques that only revealed their genius from a distance—much like He Ning’s poetry required temporal “distance” (via pseudonym) to be properly appreciated.

Conclusion: The Cost of Literary Immortality

He Ning’s story encapsulates a recurring theme in Chinese cultural history: the trade-offs between artistic integrity and social survival. His Xianglian Ji, now recognized as a masterpiece of Tang poetry, achieved immortality through subterfuge—a poignant testament to the pressures faced by scholar-officials navigating the intersection of creativity and power.

The delicate balance he struck—concealing authorship while ensuring eventual recognition—speaks to the enduring human desire to be known, even if not immediately. As his sealed manuscripts passed through generations, they carried not just verses, but the unspoken hopes of every artist who has ever whispered, “Remember me, but not yet.”