Li Xiong - Succession Issues and Death

Succession Issues and Death

In 315, Li Xiong created his wife Lady Ren empress. She was sonless, although Li Xiong had more than 10 sons by concubines. Li Xiong, however, resolved in 324 to create his nephew Li Ban, the son of Li Dang, who had been raised by Empress Ren, crown prince, reasoning that the empire's foundation was actually built by Li Te and Li Dang, and that it would be proper for him to pass the throne to Li Dang's son. He also valued Li Ban highly for his kindness and studiousness. Li Xiang and Wang Da (ηŽ‹ι”), foreseeing that this action would bring succession issues, objected, but were overruled by Li Xiong.

In 334, Li Xiong grew ill from an infected head wound, which then spread to other wounds that he had suffered over the years over his body. His body was said to be causing such a great stench that his sons avoided him, but Li Ban cared for him day and night. He died in summer 334 and was succeeded by Li Ban. However, as Li Xiang had predicted, Li Xiong's sons were unhappy they were passed over, and later in the year, his son Li Yue (李袊) assassinated Li Ban and made another son of his, Li Qi, emperor. Under Li Qi's rule, Cheng Han began to decline.

Read more about this topic:  Li Xiong

Famous quotes containing the words succession, issues and/or death:

    “Man approaches the unattainable truth through a succession of errors.”
    —Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)

    “The “universal moments” of child rearing are in fact nothing less than a confrontation with the most basic problems of living in society: a facing through one’s children of all the conflicts inherent in human relationships, a clarification of issues that were unresolved in one’s own growing up. The experience of child rearing not only can strengthen one as an individual but also presents the opportunity to shape human relationships of the future.”
    —Elaine Heffner (20th century)

    “There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world’s sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.”
    —Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)