The Starving Wanderer
After securing Mao Sui's conditional promise of allegiance in Qi, I left Pingyuan not long after. The straight-line distance from Pingyuan to Linzi was roughly 450 to 500 li. Since weights and measures had yet to be standardized, even a single li could vary between 370 and 386 meters, which translated to about 170 to 180 kilometers in modern terms. That was the straight-line distance, of course; following the routes a merchant caravan could actually take, the journey stretched to at least 200 kilometers. Like most travelers, the caravans preferred not to race straight for Linzi. Instead, they detoured through nearby cities whenever possible. It allowed them to meet more customers and, from a security standpoint, traveling along the well-connected roads that linked one walled city to the next was far safer and more efficient. In this era, even land nominally within a state's borders received little oversight once one moved far from the cities. Lawlessness was rampant and proper roads were scarce. Walled cities and the roads connecting them—that was the true internal structure of the Warring States. When war broke out, records spoke not of capturing entire commanderies or provinces as in the Three Kingdoms period, but of seizing specific cities.
Given a journey exceeding 200 kilometers, the various caravans meticulously reviewed their supplies and routes. Just before departing Pingyuan, the caravan master who had plotted our course gave one final briefing.
"We'll head down toward Pingyuan Ford, pass through Gaotang, and make for Lixia. As you all know, Lixia marks the start of Qi territory, so have your papers ready. If any trouble arises, I won't be held responsible. Once inside Qi, we'll pass through Pingling, Yuling, and Changguo before reaching our destination, Linzi. If anyone has questions or plans to leave the route midway, inform me in advance!"
Pingyuan Ford was the ferry crossing south of Pingyuan where we would cross the Yellow River. Since my destination was Linzi, home of the Jixia Academy, I had nothing to add and remained silent. After a few others exchanged words with the caravan master, the procession began to move.
We reached Gaotang in a single day. Pingyuan Ford lay so close to the midpoint between Pingyuan and Gaotang that the distance between the two cities was less than ten li. From Gaotang the caravan crossed the Ze River and then the Ji River in succession. Neither was particularly wide compared to the Yellow River, so the crossings took little time. Once we passed the Ji River, we had truly entered Qi territory. Tension gradually spread through the caravan. The caravan master and a few veteran merchants, accustomed to crossing borders, remained relaxed, but the novices on their first long-distance journey kept glancing nervously about. Their anxiety eased only after we cleared the checkpoint at Lixia and entered the city without incident.
Merchants succeed by reading the room and blending into crowds. Those bold enough to venture from Zhao into Qi had already built some foundation and tasted success. They quickly set aside any earlier nerves and threw themselves into hawking their wares. Yet sales were poor. It was not only the newcomers; even the experienced caravan master and senior merchants fared little better. The reason lay in Qi's internal situation.
"They say the Queen Dowager has passed," someone muttered.
The Queen Dowager had been the wife of the previous king, King Xiang of Qi, and the mother of the current ruler, King Jian. Renowned for her wisdom and virtue, she had supported King Xiang in restoring Qi after it nearly fell to Yan. Following the principle of allying with distant states while attacking those nearby, she strengthened ties with Qin, contained Zhao, Wei, and Chu, and enabled Tian Dan to reclaim the territories lost to Yan. Within a few years Qi recovered all its former lands. Even after King Xiang's death, she continued to manage both foreign and domestic affairs, preserving stability. One famous anecdote involved King Zhaoxiang of Qin, who gifted her a jade bracelet and asked whether anyone in Qi could open it. The bracelet was designed so that it could not be removed without breaking it. When even the officials and scholars of the Jixia Academy failed, the Queen Dowager simply fetched a club and smashed the bracelet. Presenting the fragments to the Qin envoy, she declared, "I have respectfully undone it." She was a woman of remarkable resolve who upheld Qi's dignity against a ruler who had once styled himself Western Emperor while subtly slighting the Eastern Emperor, Qi. She reminded one of Lin Xiangru, who preserved his state's pride before the same King Zhaoxiang, and of Alexander the Great, who solved an impossible knot by cutting it.
Small wonder the people of Qi held her in such high regard. With her passing, they had little appetite for commerce or luxury. During a period of national mourning, extravagance was unthinkable. The merchants, recognizing this as a tide beyond any single trader's control, voiced their disappointment.
"This trip's a bust."
"Tch. Why did we come to Qi at a time like this? We should have gone to Wei instead."
"No point continuing to Linzi. We'll only end up watching a funeral. I'm turning back before the losses grow worse. Anyone coming with me?"
With three cities still between us and Linzi, nearly half the caravan peeled away. Perhaps they were the wise ones. Once convinced a venture would fail, cutting losses early was the correct move. The sunk costs of participation fees and transport were painful, yet far smaller than what awaited in Linzi. The opportunity cost of forcing a losing Qi expedition was simply greater.
Those still unwilling to abandon the Qi route pressed on to the next city, Pingling. There, even the hesitant merchants found their answer. The venture was a failure. Sales in Pingling, larger than Lixia, fell far short of expectations. With faces full of regret, the merchants turned back. The caravan had effectively collapsed.
The road from Lixia to Pingling had been mostly flat or gently rolling, but the next leg to Yuling required crossing mountains. Though the path was well-trodden and the peaks not especially high, the prospect of hauling loaded carts over them demanded real resolve from the merchants. While resting a day in Pingling, they tallied expected profits against mounting losses. The unanimous conclusion was that continuing would only deepen the damage. Even the caravan master declared the expedition over.
Yet amid the retreat, a few still prepared to head for Yuling.
"You truly mean to reach Linzi?"
"If not now, when will I ever see Linzi again? The losses will be heavy, but I can treat it as experience worth the price."
"…As a merchant I cannot approve, but as a man of courage you have my respect. I wish you luck."
The caravan master changed course for Handan and left Pingling behind. Only my own small group remained. The man in charge of our caravan, unaware of my identity, tried once more to dissuade me, his displeasure plain.
"Ahem… The young master instructed me to follow your wishes, so we will proceed to Linzi. But must we really go? If we turn back now we can still rejoin the others…"
"We continue."
He sighed openly yet did not contradict me, and ordered the departure for Yuling. Since we had come this far, the remaining distance to Linzi was short and the roads relatively secure. That was likely why he yielded. Had this been bandit country, no amount of insistence would have swayed him.
A few hours after leaving Pingling, one of the escort scouts returned with a report of a suspicious figure ahead. The caravan master seized the chance.
"You heard him. Something feels off up ahead. Bandits have been active in the foothills of Mount Tai. This could be one of their lookouts. We should return to Pingling and reassess."
"Let's meet them first."
Authority rested with me, not him. Remembering Lord Pingyuan's strict orders, he swallowed his frustration and obeyed. We followed the scout to the reported location. When the "suspicious person" came into view, the caravan master coughed awkwardly and looked away. The figure bore no resemblance to a bandit scout. If anything, it resembled…
"…Hungry…"
Grumble.
A castaway, more than anything else.