A Year of Relative Peace
For a year, the realm enjoyed relative peace. The qualifier was necessary because it was far from perfectly tranquil. No great wars erupted, yet in this era of endless conflict, localized skirmishes never truly vanished. The coalition forces arrayed against Qi, with Han’s Upper Minister Zhang Ping as supreme commander, seized five Qi cities. Each of the five participating states claimed one for itself. Because the distance made governance difficult, Han exchanged its share with Wei, surrendering one city in return for another. Having lost five strongholds in the blink of an eye, Qi hastily sued for peace. They had been waiting for Qin to intervene; the betrayal must have felt like being struck by the very axe they trusted.
Qin had not been entirely idle, however. Intelligence indicated that envoys had been slipping in and out of the residence of Hou Sheng, Qi’s most prominent pro-Qin minister. Whatever pressure they applied, it evidently worked—Hou Sheng retained his post. Yet Chunshingun was no less formidable. He secured a written pledge that Qi would join any future coalition against Qin, and he demanded that the participating states send royal hostages. He also pressed for the replacement of Qi’s Upper Minister, just as Zhao had once demanded of Yan, but that demand was rejected. Qin refused to let its hard-won foothold in Qi’s heartland be uprooted, and the Qi king’s favor toward Hou Sheng was too strong to permit such open interference.
When word arrived that Qin troops stationed in the southern commandery near the old Chu capital of Ying had advanced toward Minaejisae, the strategic gateway in Chu’s southwest, Chunshingun judged the moment ripe and dissolved the coalition.
“In the end, we gained only five cities, a handful of hostages, and a written promise of future participation,” someone observed.
“For all the effort Chunshingun personally invested, the returns seem modest.”
“His vital point was threatened. Most of the coalition’s troops belonged to Chu, and they were committed to the eastern front against Qi. If Minaejisae fell, Qin would once again be free to ravage the Chu capital.”
The fall of the capital was Chu’s greatest fear. In the Warring States period, moving a capital was not uncommon. Qin had shifted from Yong to Xianyang; the three Jin states had changed theirs repeatedly. Even Qi, when its entire territory was seized by Yue Yi, had used Ju as a temporary capital. Yan, stubbornly rooted in Ji, was the exception. Chu’s hypersensitivity, however, stemmed from the trauma of losing Ying to Qin. When Bai Qi captured the city, he left scars on Chu as deep as the mass burial at Changping had left on Zhao. He burned the royal tombs at Yiling, reducing the ancestors of the Chu kings to ash. Centuries later, the flames of Yiling would still haunt an emperor’s dreams; perhaps from this moment onward, Yiling became the funeral pyre of kings.
“Chu will do anything to prevent that nightmare from repeating,” Sima Shang said, speaking for Chu’s position. As a native of Zhao, she wore a wry smile—perhaps recognizing a shared sorrow.
“Still, the gains are not insignificant. Should Qi break its oath in the next coalition, we will have every justification to destroy it without damaging the coalition’s moral standing.”
Sodae defended Chunshingun. Gathered in the Steel Pavilion—built to carry on the will of the Golden Pavilion—were more than ten of my closest retainers: the Prince’s Four Friends, Yeo Hong-seong, Mao Sui; from the Yan court, Guomu, Sodae, Gu Jing, and General Akgan; Jing Ke, head of the Yan branch of the Mubi Merchant Guild; and Chuyeon, newly returned. Only General-in-Chief Jin Gae, Great General Geuksin, and Han Jing in Changseong were absent. The evaluation of the coalition campaign concluded, and Akgan raised the next topic.
“There were also border clashes involving Zhao.”
“Ah, I heard. They struck at Wei?”
After fighting side by side against Qin, the two states now turned on each other. Zhao, however, had its own plausible pretext.
“The King of Wei finally dismissed Lord Xinling from his post as General-in-Chief,” Jing Ke said with a click of her tongue.
“Lord Xinping’s personal involvement shows Zhao is serious,” Mao Sui added. “No large-scale battles have occurred yet, but it is clearly a show of force. I hear General Jun, previously stationed at Yanling, has joined Lord Xinping’s army. The risk of escalation is considerable.”
Mao Sui, well-informed on Zhao affairs, detailed the size of the forces Zhao had mustered. Though not yet a full war, no one could predict when blood would be spilled. The King of Wei, having removed Lord Xinling at last, would never yield to Zhao’s demands—not only out of pride, but to preserve royal authority. Would the hot-tempered Lian Po remain idle?
“They defeat Qin once and immediately begin devouring one another. The future of any coalition looks bleak,” Akgan remarked sharply.
“In the three Jin states, only Lian Po and Li Mu remain capable of opposing Qin if Lord Xinling cannot act. Yet Zhao behaves like this…”
“This is precisely to force Lord Xinling’s reinstatement,” Sima Shang retorted to Yeo Hong-seong’s concern. The two had grown close while staying under my roof.
“Fortunately, Qin’s own circumstances prevent it from launching a major campaign,” Mao Sui noted, ever the intelligence specialist.
“Because they lost over a hundred thousand men in the last coalition?” Guomu asked.
Mao Sui shook his head. “That is one reason, but not enough to deter Qin. What I mean is the Fatigue Qin Plan devised by Han.”
The Fatigue Qin Plan—exactly as its name suggested—was a scheme to exhaust Qin. While Yan was consumed by internal strife, Chu was occupied with Qi, and Wei and Zhao were locked in their own quarrel over Lord Xinling, Han sought to divert Qin’s attention. They dispatched the engineer Zheng Guo to Qin to initiate a massive public-works project. Having achieved great success with the Dujiangyan irrigation system in Shu, Qin had been persuaded to begin constructing similar works in the Guanzhong region. Such an undertaking would consume so much labor and material that Qin would lack the strength for war.
If they forced a war anyway, even Qin would ruin itself.
The Sui dynasty, which built the Grand Canal while waging war, had already unified the Central Plains yet still collapsed—unlike the present Qin. Other tyrannies, such as repairing the Great Wall and constructing a new capital, had compounded the damage, but Sui had been far larger than Qin to begin with.
Pressuring Chu, building irrigation works, and striking the three Jin states at once? Impossible. Han had played its best card, yet one problem remained.
“When I glimpsed the plans through Mao Sui, the engineering was no less precise than Dujiangyan. If the Zhengguo Canal is completed, Qin’s national power will grow even stronger…”
Chuyeon voiced his worry. Jing Ke shrugged.
“Han would have chosen Zheng Guo carefully. On the surface it looks plausible, but it must be flawed in practice.”
“I hope so…”
Chuyeon could not easily set aside his unease. The discussion of foreign affairs ended there.
“Since external matters are largely settled, let us turn to domestic affairs.”
Even in this lull between wars, the other states had seen much upheaval, yet Yan’s internal changes were no less significant. Mao Sui, most familiar with foreign affairs, stepped back, and Gu Jing moved forward half a pace.
“It seems my turn has come. Allow me to speak first.”
During the foreign discussion Gu Jing had contributed only a word or two; now, visibly eager, he launched into a detailed account of Yan’s recent administrative reforms. Listening to the unbroken flow of his words, I thought, Is being talkative a Chu trait?