HCT – Chapter 23 Bai Qi’s Pebbles

The final stage of the Battle of Changping began as the two nations’ main generals each took their positions.

The Qin army emerged from the mountain valley and set up camp on the western bank of the Dan River, putting on a display of grim determination, as if ready to fight the Zhao army to the death.

Soon after, Wang He led a large force of Qin troops toward the northern Dan River valley.

The northern Dan River valley was a textbook pocket-shaped terrain—narrow at the entrance, surrounded by mountains on three sides. To the south lay towering mountains, to the north the hundred-mile Stone Wall, and to the west the tall Hanwang Mountain (not yet named at this time). Beyond Hanwang Mountain was the Zhao army’s camp.

South of the mountains lay territory already conquered by the Qin. Beyond the Stone Wall in the north was a mountain pass leading over the Taihang Mountains into the Zhao heartland—one of the main dry routes. Originally, General Lian Po had stationed guards here. Hanwang Mountain, too, had Zhao fortifications atop it.

After Zhao Kuo replaced Lian Po as commander-in-chief of the Zhao army, he withdrew all forces from these scattered defenses to consolidate them and begin new drills according to his own doctrine. He dismissed all of Lian Po’s mid- and lower-ranking officers. The defensive positions on the Stone Wall and Hanwang Mountain were all abandoned.

Having studied the art of war thoroughly, Zhao Kuo understood that training the troops was the first step of command. At this point, these soldiers were still Lian Po’s men, not his. For them to obey him instinctively, he had to train them until they were used to his command style.

Changing generals before a battle is taboo, and large-scale personnel shifts on the eve of war are also taboo—it greatly undermines morale. Yet both King Zhao and Zhao Kuo were in perfect sync, fully confident in the correctness of their decisions.

According to later historical records, the Qin army deployed over 600,000 troops to the battlefield, and the Zhao army over 400,000. By ancient standards of exaggeration, even if the numbers were true, they likely included logistical and civilian support staff.

The Qin, waging a prolonged campaign, probably fielded only about 300,000 soldiers at most under the harshest logistical constraints. The Zhao, with short supply lines and relying on Shangdang locals for transport, likely had just over 200,000, perhaps close to 300,000 troops.

Lian Po had relied on strong fortifications to fight and retreat gradually. When he finally withdrew to the eastern bank of the Dan River and refused further engagement, the Qin army launched several aggressive assaults, suffering heavy casualties.

Everyone knew that a fortified stronghold in a favorable position could fend off far superior numbers. Qin’s failure to breach Lian Po’s fortress, despite great losses, was why they had to remove him. Later estimates suggest that nearly half of the Qin’s 200,000 casualties died in those failed assaults.

Zhao Kuo roughly estimated the remaining troop strength and concluded that the Qin’s elite forces were probably now outnumbered by Zhao’s. Moreover, his own men were fresh, while the Qin elites were surely wounded from prolonged fighting. In terms of combat readiness, he had the upper hand.

The Prefect of Shangdang had voluntarily surrendered the city to Zhao, making them the just side in this war—popular support was with them.

The armies were evenly matched, but half of Zhao’s soldiers were freshly deployed, while the Qin troops were battle-worn. Zhao had rested troops facing fatigued ones—another advantage.

Zhao’s food supplies were ample, while Qin’s were stretched thin after three years of war and a long supply line. This gave Zhao a logistical edge.

Zhao Kuo deduced that with these overwhelming advantages, the Qin would not be able to hold out long or risk another frontal assault. Instead, they would attempt to flank the Zhao camp through less-defended terrain.

As he completed reorganizing his army, scouts reported that Qin’s commander Wang He was leading a large force north.

Zhao Kuo opened the map, his heart racing with excitement.

He had just predicted that the demoralized Qin army, unable to breach the Zhao defenses, would try to flank them—and now they were doing exactly that!

His deputy, however, was less convinced.

Pointing at the valley on the map, the deputy said, “If the Qin army enters the northern Dan River valley, it’s like walking into a trap. Though they could try circling around to hit our rear through the Stone Wall, if we ambush them en route, we can trap them in the valley. Wang He is a veteran general—why would he make such a mistake?”

Zhao Kuo slapped the table angrily. “It’s not a mistake—he looks down on me!”

The deputy was left speechless.

Zhao Kuo, visibly worked up, said, “If Lian Po were still commander, Wang He wouldn’t dare take such a risk! He thinks this is my first time commanding, so I’ll just stay behind defenses and won’t dare fight him head-on!”

The deputy fell silent—but he was half-convinced.

Indeed, a first-time battlefield commander would likely be intimidated by a veteran like Wang He. Even knowing the enemy’s strategy, they’d likely dig in and avoid battle. After all, defending was safer than risking a mistake.

Even if the Qin did flank them, breaking through Zhao’s camp would be tough. Holding firm would at least avoid failure. That’s why most rookie commanders would choose caution.

Zhao Kuo took a deep breath and suppressed his anger. “The one leading this Qin force is their top general. If we slay him, the exhausted Qin army will collapse without a fight!”

Zhao Kuo’s military reasoning was always sound. His deputy was persuaded and left to marshal the troops.

Meanwhile, in the Qin main camp, Bai Qi sat silently in the command tent, studying the map.

Scattered across the map were several pebbles—each representing the positions of Qin and Zhao forces.

The Zhao pebbles were clustered on the eastern bank of the Dan River, looking like livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

Half the Qin army had moved toward the Stone Wall. But before that, some Qin troops had already snuck into the abandoned fortifications, repairing walls and storing grain in secret.

While Zhao Kuo was focused on reorganizing his troops for a decisive strike, the Qin had silently infiltrated the fortresses Zhao had abandoned, stockpiling supplies.

The grain was enough to feed Wang He’s army for ten days—ten days in which the Qin could complete their encirclement.

“Lord Wu’an, the Zhao army has departed! According to scouts, General Zhao Kuo is personally leading the force!” a subordinate reported.

“Mm.” Bai Qi acknowledged with a nod, sweeping the Zhao pebbles into the northern Dan River valley area.

The pebbles representing the Qin troops already stationed there now mixed with the Zhao ones.

“Deploy the light cavalry,” Bai Qi said, placing a few Qin pebbles on Hanwang Mountain, between the northern valley and Zhao’s original camp.

The subordinate left to carry out the order.

About five thousand light cavalry rode out, climbed Hanwang Mountain, and began fortifying the old Zhao positions with earthworks and felled trees.

Though Zhao Kuo had taken the main force out, he had left a garrison at the original camp to guard supplies. Bai Qi guessed Zhao Kuo might have left about half his troops behind as a precaution.

These five thousand highly mobile cavalry had a singular purpose: if Zhao Kuo realized something was wrong and tried to return via Hanwang Mountain, they would hold the line and stall until Bai Qi could reinforce them.

“General, is it my turn to move out now?” Bai Qi’s deputy, Sima Jin, burst in excitedly.

Bai Qi shot him a displeased glare.

Sima Jin immediately straightened up with a serious face, waiting for orders.

“Go seal the pocket,” Bai Qi said, grabbing a few larger pebbles and placing them at the mouth of the northern valley.

This elite force of less than thirty thousand was handpicked by Bai Qi—seasoned veterans equipped with the finest iron weapons and nearly all of Qin’s crossbows. They would seal the valley shut and prevent Zhao Kuo from escaping the way he came.

Sima Jin was so excited he forgot to say “yes” and ran off at once.

Bai Qi’s brow twitched, but he swallowed his rebuke.

He had scolded Sima Jin countless times, but it never worked.

Not just Sima Jin—all of his longtime subordinates were the same.

Outside Qin, Bai Qi had a fearsome reputation. Children were told his name to stop their crying. But within the Qin army, those who had followed him for years would grin at him like fools, knowing he wouldn’t get angry.

Bai Qi held the title of Lord Wu’an (Martial Peace). Unlike his predecessors, who earned the title through varying feats, Bai Qi’s reason was clearly recorded: “He was able to nurture his soldiers, win every battle, and settle the people—thus he was named Wu’an.”

Not only was he undefeated, he treated both soldiers and civilians with great care. After his unjust execution by the Qin king, the people quietly built shrines to honor him.

Now, Bai Qi was starting to worry. Being undefeated, beloved by the army and the people—it was bound to attract jealousy.

But he couldn’t even pretend to be harsh. He once tried to feign anger for no reason, only for his deputies to beam at him and ask if he needed a drink to cheer up.

Exasperated, Bai Qi left them without a word.

Now, he was trying to become more reclusive, showing fewer expressions, cutting off personal ties with subordinates outside the battlefield. The new recruits finally feared him, but the old ones remained incorrigible.

Thinking of all this, Bai Qi could only sigh.

He turned back to the map, pushing aside these trivial concerns.

“The only uncertainty in this battle,” he muttered, “is whether Zhao Kuo will realize that Wang He is bait and try to break out over Hanwang Mountain.”

That, he said aloud—naming the most dangerous part of the campaign.

“If the five thousand cavalry fall before reinforcements arrive and the Zhao army returns…”

He fell into thought, gently tapping the map with a pebble.

Once, twice, three times…

“Feint weakness. Make Zhao Kuo think the main camp has fallen.”

“Let his messengers escape and spread a false rumor that the king is sending Lian Po to reinforce him.”

“If none of this works, then we can’t win quickly.”

“If a quick victory isn’t possible…” Bai Qi murmured, “then I must advise His Majesty to seek peace.”

If sufficient battle gains could not be secured, it was best to quit while ahead and use the prospect of peace talks to seek greater benefits.

Bai Qi never considered himself truly invincible—it was just that he always made comprehensive preparations before battle, and never fought battles that would cost Qin its soldiers and grain without yielding ample rewards.

Still, even though Bai Qi had prepared for the worst, he did not believe things would come to that. He looked down on Zhao Kuo.

Zhao Kuo was only a few years older than the King of Zhao, just past thirty. Bai Qi had joined the army at fifteen; by Zhao Kuo’s age, he had already served fifteen years and achieved many military merits. Zhao Kuo, son of the great Zhao general Zhao She, had a reputation for discussing warfare, but had never once set foot in a military camp.

Given his status, even if the Zhao King had dismissed Zhao She as commander, Zhao Kuo could have easily entered the army as a deputy general. The Zhao King disliked old generals, but was rather supportive of young ones.

Zhao Kuo had fame, status, and connections—why, then, had he never achieved any military merits? Because he wanted to emulate his father Zhao She and command troops as the lead general in his first campaign.

Once Bai Qi learned about Zhao Kuo’s background, he immediately discussed it with Chancellor Fan Ju. In the upcoming Battle of Changping, Zhao’s commander had to be Zhao Kuo.

Zhao She had indeed risen to fame in a single battle. But before becoming commander, Zhao She had fled to Yan and served as a local official there.

That experience forged his resilience, and in the Warring States period, local officials often doubled as military officers. He already had military experience.

Later, Zhao She returned to Zhao and was recommended by Lord Pingyuan, Zhao Sheng, to manage the state’s tax collection. He traveled all over the country on foot, becoming intimately familiar with its geography and people’s livelihoods.

This gave Zhao She a solid grasp of the terrain and made him compassionate toward civilians and soldiers alike—he understood how to win people’s hearts and boost morale.

Zhao Kuo, however, was nothing like his father. His life had been spent in study halls and among scholars, full of boastful debates. He was raised in luxury and had never suffered any hardship or associated with people of lower status.

Such a man, when faced with even minor setbacks or scares, would collapse into despair and retreat into hiding—until he found himself surrounded and desperate, at which point he’d panic and launch a hasty, chaotic breakout.

Still, no matter how much Bai Qi looked down on Zhao Kuo, he understood that even hunting a weak rabbit required a fully drawn bow. He thought through every possibility and prepared as thoroughly as possible.

To pursue Qin’s general Wang He, Zhao Kuo led his entire army out, leaving only a small force to guard the supply train.

The Qin troops fought and retreated, seemingly in defeat, but their formations remained perfectly intact.

Veteran generals immediately sensed something was wrong and urged Zhao Kuo to withdraw.

Zhao Kuo hesitated.

He had read many military treatises. Of course he recognized the possibility that the Qin army was feigning retreat to lure him in. But with Qin’s commander Wang He right before him, and the Qin forces retreating steadily, if he could take Wang He’s head, even an ambush wouldn’t stop his victory.

Zhao Kuo thought it over but ultimately could not resist the tempting bait of “Qin general Wang He.”

He ordered: “The enemy commander is right ahead! The rest of their forces are of no concern. In a narrow path, the brave win! Capture the general, and the ambush will dissolve on its own!”

“The brave win in a narrow encounter”—these were Zhao She’s words when asked by King Huiwen of Zhao whether they could fight the battle of Eyu. That was the very battle that had made Zhao She famous.

Zhao Kuo used his father’s words to rally his officers. The soldiers were inspired and followed him in continued pursuit of Wang He.

The Qin army continued to suffer losses and retreated faster, finally withdrawing to the fortified Bai Li Stone Wall, entering strongholds that had already been prepared in advance.

Wang He removed his helmet, wiped the blood from his face, and let out a sigh of relief.

He counted his troops. More than half of the Qin soldiers used as bait had fallen, but the remaining soldiers showed no fear—some were even smiling.

“We’ve made it back to the fortress and didn’t drag down Lord Wu’an. That means we’ve already won this battle!” one of his officers said cheerfully.

Wang He nodded, “Indeed.”

Fighting under General Bai always put one in good spirits. As long as they completed the mission he gave them, they only needed to wait for victory.

“General, is this… a potato?” someone said, having found a pile of unfamiliar but vaguely familiar food in a corner while cleaning the fortress. “The Zhao army left their rations behind?”

Wang He inspected it: “Yes, it’s a potato. Our scouts say potatoes become toxic when sprouting or turning green. After arriving in Changping, Zhao Kuo forbade his troops from eating poisonous roots, probably to avoid battlefield incidents. So they must have discarded the potatoes during transport.”

A soldier asked, “General, these potatoes aren’t sprouting or green. Should we…?”

Wang He replied, “Roast them first and feed them to the horses. If nothing happens, bring me one. That old dog Lian Po used to sit on his fortress wall eating roasted potatoes and cursing me. I’ve always wanted to know what those tasted like.”

The soldier immediately said, “General, if it’s unfamiliar food, we should be the ones to try it first. What if it’s really poisonous?”

Wang He declined the kind offer. He just wanted to know what kind of potatoes that old bastard Lian Po enjoyed so much. Eating just a little wouldn’t kill him. He had eaten many mildly toxic plants and animals during campaigns.

The Qin soldiers who had suffered such heavy casualties laughed as they roasted the potatoes Zhao’s army had thrown away.

Down below, the Zhao troops stared up at the sturdy stone walls, fear written across their faces.

Seeing their own former fortress now so thoroughly reinforced, even ordinary veterans sensed something was terribly wrong.

Zhao Kuo looked confused.

The Qin commander had retreated into a fortress—and it looked recently fortified. This must have been the Qin army’s intended destination all along.

Surely the Qin commander couldn’t have been used as bait?

Zhao Kuo wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced. The bizarre circumstances finally made him realize the truth.

The Qin would never use their commander as bait—who would then lead the army?

But Wang He was clearly there—some generals who had fought him before even recognized him. That could only mean: Wang He was no longer the Qin commander.

Then who was?

Who?!

A terrifying name surfaced in Zhao Kuo’s mind—a name that made his limbs go cold and sweat drip from his brow just thinking it.

“General! General! We must leave now!” his deputy said urgently.

Zhao Kuo snapped back: “R-right, we must retreat! Back the way we came!”

The deputy objected, “The Qin army is surely waiting for us there. We should retreat through the eastern mountains. Our supplies are back at camp! If that man has arrived, we’ll have to return to camp to make a stand!”

Clearly, not just Zhao Kuo, but every officer with a brain had guessed it: if Wang He could be used as bait, then the real Qin commander could only be that man.

They all suspected it, but no one dared speak his name aloud. Even thinking of it made their legs tremble.

Zhao Kuo said frantically, “Yes! Over the mountains! Move now!”

He still clung to hope. They’d moved quickly; the mountains were high. Surely the Qin hadn’t had time to set up on the mountains too?

The Zhao army rushed in a panic toward the eastern mountains—only to be met at the summit by Qin’s rolling logs and falling boulders.

Those in the front hadn’t even seen enemy banners before they were crushed into the mud.

“The Qin army’s already on the mountain? How are they so fast?!” the deputy cried out.

Zhao Kuo saw the endless logs and stones crashing down and felt his courage crumble.

He couldn’t tell how many were up there. All he saw was wave after wave of logs and boulders crushing soldiers into bloody pulp without resistance. It felt less like a battle between armies and more like they were facing the wrath of heaven and earth.

Attacking uphill from below—just looking at the towering summit was enough to crush morale.

Veteran Zhao troops had seen such fear before and were still charging wave after wave uphill.

But for Zhao Kuo, this was his first time witnessing such horror—first time seeing countless men turn into mangled flesh right before his eyes. Despair welled up in his heart.

We can’t attack uphill anymore! We’ll lose!

His fear screamed at him, and he ordered the retreat.

“Back! Back through the canyon entrance! The valley is flat, and we outnumber them. We can break their encirclement!” he shouted.

His deputies disagreed.

Even if the Qin had marched out at the same time, a mountain route would have taken longer. They guessed the Qin used cavalry or other fast-moving units—and not many of them. Their fortifications must be hastily made. Zhao’s larger army could overwhelm them, even at a ten-to-one loss ratio.

But Zhao Kuo wouldn’t listen.

He had already led the entire Zhao army into a Qin trap—his misjudgment was obvious. The thought of his grave mistake weighed heavier than his fear of the Qin or death.

Now, with his deputies opposing him, he grew angry and humiliated.

So he stubbornly ordered a full retreat along their original path.

When Zhao Kuo had taken over the front lines, he had replaced the more experienced, disobedient mid-level officers with his own retainers or less seasoned men. So despite disagreement among the experienced generals, the Zhao army still withdrew from the mountains and tried to break out via the valley.

Sima Jin had long prepared a crossbow formation, calmly waiting for the Zhao army’s arrival.

When the Zhao troops appeared, a wicked grin spread across his face.

“Raise Lord Wu’an’s banner!” Sima Jin shouted gleefully. “Raise it high so the Zhao cowards can see clearly!”

The Qin soldiers laughed with their general.

They lowered Wang He’s banner and replaced it with that of Lord Wu’an, Bai Qi—waving it proudly for the Zhao troops to see.

The Zhao army marched to the valley entrance. Before they even entered the range of the Qin crossbows, they could already see, from afar, the banner of Lord Wu’an.

At that moment, the Zhao army’s advance came to an eerie halt. Nearly every officer and soldier held their breath.

Despair crept up into their hearts, like a giant hand squeezing their hearts ever tighter.

Even the illiterate soldiers recognized the symbols on that banner. It was their nightmare. They had secretly looked at this banner before setting out, praying they would never have to face it.

“…Bai Qi…” Someone, hoarse with fear, uttered the name.

The Zhao army’s formation fell into disarray.

Some soldiers, facing battle for the first time, dropped their weapons and squatted on the ground with their heads in their hands, emotionally collapsing, unable to accept the reality before them.

The officers paced on horseback, flustered and confused, not knowing how to restore morale.

Zhao Kuo received the news and galloped over from the middle ranks.

He lashed his whip across the backs of the panicking soldiers on either side and shouted, “So what if it’s Bai Qi! Bai Qi is already old! He’s nearly fifty this year! My father was Lord Ma Fu, Zhao She — the very man feared by the King of Qin! Soldiers under me, you are not permitted to fear Bai Qi!”

Under Zhao Kuo’s furious roar, the chaos was curbed.

Lord Ma Fu, who had once crushed the Qin army under impossible odds, was a legend. In the hearts of the soldiers, his reputation might have even exceeded that of Lian Po, whose record, while impressive, included both wins and losses.

The disarray and panic in the Zhao army eased. The soldiers picked up their weapons again, holding them tighter in their hands.

Since the reforms of King Wuling of Zhao, Zhao soldiers had adopted nomadic-style attire and mounted archery, and martial valor had become a national ethos. The individual combat ability of Zhao soldiers was among the best of the Seven Warring States.

Zhao Kuo gave them hope.

They looked at him with eyes full of yearning.

These low-ranking soldiers of Zhao trusted Lord Ma Fu, and so they believed in this “son of Ma Fu” who told them they need not fear Bai Qi, the Lord Wu’an of Qin.

With weapons raised, their courage rekindled by hope, they let out a thunderous roar and charged toward the Qin positions.

And then—they fell beneath a rain of arrows.

In this clash with the Qin crossbow formations, even in death, no look of despair appeared on the faces of the Zhao soldiers.

Just like when they had charged King Han’s mountain position, where only five thousand Qin light cavalry had been stationed, and fallen one by one under the rolling stones and logs — they had not despaired then, either.

The people of Zhao valued martial valor. They did not fear the Qin army. They did not fear Bai Qi.

In the main tent of the Qin army, a steady stream of messengers came and went, bringing intelligence and delivering orders.

Bai Qi sat at the table, brows furrowed, his expression unusually grave.

All the news from the front lines was good.

Zhao Kuo was even more incompetent than Bai Qi had expected. He had first attacked the mountain position, and when that failed after a brief attempt, he turned toward the valley mouth to break through. Blocked again by crossbow fire, he turned back once more to assault the mountain.

His indecisive back-and-forth tactics had given both the mountain and valley positions ample time to reinforce and await support, relieving the pressure on Bai Qi’s encircling maneuvers.

Later, Zhao Kuo attacked Wang He. But Wang He had already rested and was holding the fortress, refusing to engage.

Unable to make progress, Zhao Kuo set up camp in the valley and switched to a defensive stance.

From Bai Qi’s perspective, Zhao Kuo had made errors at every step. But what Bai Qi hadn’t expected was just how stupid Zhao Kuo would be.

Bai Qi had assumed Zhao Kuo would take half the army to attack and leave the other half behind to guard their base east of the Danshui River. That way, they could hold their supplies and still send reinforcements if Zhao Kuo were encircled.

No competent general would pursue the enemy without securing his rear and logistics.

The light cavalry Bai Qi had sent to the mountain had been a suicide squad. He thought they would be sacrificed in the pincer attack, just in time for Qin reinforcements to arrive.

But Zhao Kuo had actually taken the entire Zhao army with him, leaving only a few non-combatants behind to guard the original position.

Bai Qi had only sent two elite units to cut off Zhao Kuo’s retreat and used the rest of his forces to attack the Zhao fortifications east of the Danshui.

He had intended to seize those undefended forts first, destroy a portion of the Zhao army, and then slowly devour Zhao Kuo’s encircled forces.

Now, the Qin army had pushed deep into the original Zhao position without much resistance.

And the force Bai Qi had encircled — was the entirety of the Zhao army?! How was the Qin army supposed to consume such a massive force?

Though Qin held the main roads and could block tens of thousands of Zhao troops with relatively few men, the reverse was also true: Zhao could hold these same narrow roads to repel Qin attacks.

In other words, both sides were now in a stalemate. Zhao couldn’t break out, and Qin couldn’t crush them.

Zhao Kuo’s stupidity had actually tied Bai Qi down.

In decades of warfare, Bai Qi had never encountered such a situation. For the moment, he could not think of a solution.

Frustrated and helpless, Bai Qi wrote a letter back to Xianyang, asking his liege for ideas.

Now that the Qin and Zhao armies were at a standoff, Bai Qi could not move a single soldier. The outcome of the war would depend on what happened outside the battlefield—whoever’s reinforcements arrived first would seize the advantage.

Both Zhao and Qin had deployed nearly all their elite forces. Neither could easily send more. But Zhao still had the veteran general Lian Po to fall back on. Qin, on the other hand, had no more generals to send.

Even Bai Qi himself was trapped on the battlefield at Changping. The rest of Qin’s commanders had to guard its borders against potential attacks from the other states.

Bai Qi truly couldn’t imagine whom the King of Qin could still dispatch to support him.

After sending the letter, Bai Qi sighed in resignation.

Would his lifelong record of brilliance end with a stain in such a stupid manner?

The King of Zhao received news of Zhao Kuo’s entire army being surrounded a few days before the King of Qin.

The young king’s mind went blank. He almost fainted from the shock.

He had been mentally prepared for Zhao Kuo to lose.

If Bai Qi was involved, a loss was understandable. Still, Shangdang wasn’t originally Zhao’s territory—losing it wasn’t a major setback. If Zhao Kuo, a young man, could trade a few moves with Bai Qi, that alone would earn him the title of a notable general.

To ensure Zhao Kuo didn’t lose too badly, the king had mobilized nearly all of Zhao’s elite troops, save those guarding the borders. If things went south, Zhao Kuo could simply retreat — the nearly-starved Qin army wouldn’t dare pursue them into Zhao territory.

But he never imagined Zhao Kuo would lead the entire army into an encirclement!

If they were completely wiped out, Zhao wouldn’t just be low on soldiers. There wouldn’t even be enough people to farm next year — they might face famine!

After a brief fainting spell, the king quickly summoned Lords Pingyuan and Pingyang to the palace for counsel.

But even they were at a loss. The king had no choice but to call all senior officials for an emergency meeting.

Lin Xiangru was among them.

He looked around but did not see Lian Po.

Since being summoned back to Handan, Lian Po had clearly shown dissatisfaction toward the king. The king stripped him of all titles, leaving him a commoner.

Within just a month, nearly all of Lian Po’s retainers had left him. As recorded in Shiji, “Upon returning from Changping in disgrace, all Lian Po’s former guests deserted him.” It was a pitiful sight.

With no one left at his once-bustling home, Lian Po now lived and ate at the residence of Zhu Xiang, who patiently served this ill-tempered old man that even his own children had given up on.

Lin Xiangru had thought the king would summon Lian Po after Zhao Kuo’s defeat. Who knew Changping better than Lian Po? If someone had to go rescue Zhao Kuo, it could only be him.

Lin Xiangru began, “Your Majesty…”

But the King of Zhao cut him off impatiently, “If you’re about to recommend Lian Po to redeem himself, then don’t speak. If Lian Po hadn’t lost to Wang He, why would Zhao Kuo have faced Bai Qi? I hear he’s still resentful. Let him reflect at home!”

Lin Xiangru wanted to argue, but he coughed violently from the strain and couldn’t get the words out.

Seeing Lin Xiangru’s frail appearance, the king felt a twinge of guilt and said, “Minister Lin’s health is poor. Please return home and rest.”

Covering his mouth with his sleeve, Lin Xiangru bowed and hunched over as he withdrew.

Lord Pingyuan, Zhao Sheng, stepped forward and said, “I will escort Minister Lin out.”

The king waved his sleeve. “Go.”

Zhao Sheng caught up to Lin Xiangru, who was leaning against a tree, coughing non-stop. He asked worriedly, “Minister Lin, are you all right?”

Between coughs, Lin Xiangru said, “Zhao is doomed.”

Zhao Sheng clenched his fists — he had supported the king’s decision to accept Shangdang and had helped bring about the Battle of Changping. “Is there no hope?”

Lin Xiangru took a deep breath to calm himself. “Right now, Qin and Zhao are locked in a standoff. Whoever gets reinforcements first gains the upper hand. A hastily assembled force would be useless. Besides General Lian, who else can lead it?”

Zhao Sheng sighed. “Lian Po was replaced on the king’s sole decision. Zhao Kuo was appointed by the king alone. If we ask Lian Po to rescue Zhao Kuo now, wouldn’t that embarrass the king? Please don’t mention Lian Po again — I fear the king may turn his anger on you!”

Lin Xiangru looked sorrowful. His voice trembled with grief. “Is the king’s pride more important than the fate of Zhao?”

Zhao Sheng sighed deeply once more, then gritted his teeth. “Don’t persuade him. I’ll go privately. I’ll bring Zhao Bao with me. The two of us will plead together. We will persuade him!”

Lin Xiangru bowed low. “Then I leave it to Lord Pingyuan.”

Zhao Sheng supported him. “Let me walk you home.”

Lin Xiangru shook his head. “No need. I can still walk. I’ll go on my own. Please, Lord Pingyuan—go back and persuade the king as soon as possible.”

Zhao Sheng nodded: “Be careful.” Lin Xiangru turned and left, his steps uneven and staggering.
He thought to himself, perhaps Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang really could persuade King Zhao, but could the Zhao army trapped at Changping wait that long?

“Your Majesty, Qin indeed can no longer send out soldiers or generals!” Fan Ju calculated the numbers for the King of Qin, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Perhaps we can take advantage of the Zhao army being besieged and accept Zhao’s offer for peace talks! I believe they are even more eager than we are!”

The old King of Qin, already over sixty, silently stared at the empty table. After a long pause, he said deliberately, word by word, “No. Qin still has soldiers able to fight and generals able to command.”

Fan Ju and the other ministers of Qin all raised their heads, looking at their king in confusion.  “Sir, you are assisting Lord Anguo in supervising the state.” The king’s tone was flat, as if what he said wasn’t of great importance. “I will depart immediately, personally to Ye Wang.”

“I will raise the military rank of the citizens of Ye Wang by one level! Conscription of men aged fifteen and above! I will personally go to support Lord Wu’an!”

The Records of the Grand Historian records: “The king himself came from Henei, granting the people one level higher in rank, mobilizing all males aged fifteen and above to report to Changping.”

Henei Commandery was first established in the Han dynasty. What Sima Qian called “Henei” at this time was Ye Wang, a place Qin had just captured two years prior. After the Qin army took Ye Wang and Shangdang, the local population had not yet realized they were now Qin subjects. Qin had not yet conscripted soldiers or levied grain there.

Fan Ju and Lord Anguo both got up from their seats and approached the King of Qin.

“Your Majesty, the front line is dangerous—please reconsider!”

“Father, your health is more important than anything! Although I am unworthy, I am willing to go to Ye Wang to conscript soldiers on your behalf!”

The old King looked at his most trusted minister and at his rather disappointing heir. He said, “No, only I can go. My decision is final. I leave Xianyang in your hands.”

He stood, swept his sleeves, and strode out. His black robe billowed behind him like rolling black waves.

“Prepare the carriage!”

“Yes!”

Fan Ju and Lord Anguo quickly got up, looking at the king who had just received front-line news and was ready to depart immediately for Ye Wang.

“Your Majesty! Wait, I will escort you!” Fan Ju disregarded etiquette, lifted his robe, and hurried after the king. Lord Anguo came to his senses and followed. The other ministers also quickly rose, accompanying the king out of Xianyang to personally support the battle of Changping.

While Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang were still trying to persuade King Zhao, the King of Qin had already reached Ye Wang. When King Zhao learned this, Qin’s reinforcements had already arrived at the Changping battlefield.

At this time, traffic was underdeveloped and communications poor. The Zhao army was surrounded at Changping, making message transmission very difficult. So King Zhao only knew Qin reinforcements had arrived, but did not know the commander was the King of Qin himself. Nor did he know that Qin’s troops were conscripted from Ye Wang and the nearby Shangdang region.

But he did not need to know these details. He only needed to know Qin reinforcements had arrived at the battlefield, while he was still hesitating whether to send Lian Po to rescue, without even deciding which troops to mobilize.

Zhao’s available troops were either guarding against the Xiongnu or Yan. King Zhao hadn’t yet figured out which side was less risky to mobilize. He actually did not hesitate for long — not even ten days. But Qin’s actions were so fast, it was unbelievable.

King Zhao was terrified. Qin was able to assemble reinforcements so quickly—could they still send more troops later? His determination to continue the battle gradually faded, and he considered peace talks with Qin.

The royal family and ministers at court were speechless. When Lian Po retreated earlier and we considered peace talks, the King of Qin only gave us perfunctory responses. Now the Qin army was about to win, how could they possibly agree to talks? What leverage did we have beyond these three to four hundred thousand Zhao troops to force Qin to negotiate?

King Zhao was at a loss: “Then what should we do?”

At Zhu Xiang’s home: Lian Po was like a big naughty kid, holding a bag of stones and throwing them at the chickens in the coop, scattering feathers everywhere.

“Lian Po, do you think Zhao still has a chance to win?” Lin Xiangru sat behind him, looking dejected.

Lian Po smashed the chickens as he spoke, “How could we win? The Zhao army now is like a city with no walls and starving supplies. Qin even managed to gather reinforcements to besiege us. Even if we finally gather reinforcements, we’ll just be meat for the Qin army!”

“If I were Bai Qi, I wouldn’t even attack. I’d just starve the Zhao army to death.” Lian Po laughed heartily. “What’s the point of fighting? They’ve already lost! Completely lost!”

Laughing, Lian Po threw the stones from his arms forward with force, then suddenly burst into tears. “Three to four hundred thousand people! Three to four hundred thousand! Surrender, surrender quickly! Save as many as you can!”

“Lin Xiangru, you go find King Zhao, make him surrender quickly!”

“Zhao Kuo deserves death. Those three to four hundred thousand must not die!”

Lin Xiangru wiped away tears with his sleeve, choking up: “I’m afraid the number still alive now isn’t even three to four hundred thousand.”

Zhu Xiang leaned against the chicken coop wall, silently looking at the sky, quietly pondering the Battle of Changping.

Historical records state that Zhao committed 450,000 troops under Lian Po’s command. It’s said Qin lost 200,000 in this battle. With Qin’s strength, even a one-for-one exchange means Zhao should have lost 200,000. With Lian Po’s prior retreat and later Zhao Kuo’s starving and breakout deaths, losses would be even greater.

Later archaeological excavations of the ancient Changping battlefield also showed that Zhao’s surviving prisoners likely numbered at most in the tens of thousands.

Records of the Grand Historian notes: “They deceived and slaughtered them all,” “forty-five thousand were beheaded and captured” — referring to a total of 450,000 Zhao casualties in this battle.

Later generations mistakenly read “阬杀” (kǒng shā, “slaughter”) as “坑杀” (kēng shā, “live burial”). “阬杀” means killing prisoners of war and innocent civilians, with bodies piled up like mountains. Bai Qi didn’t have time to dig pits for live burial.

Bai Qi beheaded countless enemies, but felt guilt over slaughtering prisoners at Changping because it was done by deception. Bai Qi originally agreed to spare the prisoners, tricked them into laying down arms, and then killed them all.

Some say Bai Qi did this to share credit with Qin troops. In fact, after the discovery of the Shangjun Shu and Qin bamboo slips, it’s clear Qin demanded strict military credit for beheadings. Only enemy heads with titles could be used to raise one’s own rank.

The Shangjun Shu says, “Soldiers gain merit for beheading and capturing prisoners.” Strategies of the Warring States records Qin soldiers claiming rewards, “left hand carrying heads, right hand leading live captives.” These prove that although not explicitly stated, prisoners counted as military merit.

In later Qin times, prisoners were used for farming and labor, highlighting the importance of labor force and military merit from captives.

Zhu Xiang knew well the main reason Qin killed prisoners was they couldn’t support tens of thousands of captives. Shangdang’s land was poor, and feeding prisoners was a losing proposition. Also, Shangdang was close to Zhao — hungry prisoners were prone to escape.

Anyone familiar with farming history knows famines well.

Contrary to the popular image of a strong Qin conquering the six states, Qin actually went to war immediately when famines struck.

In the 27th year of King Zhaoxiang’s reign, earthquakes and famine struck, and Qin sent Bai Qi and Sima Cuo to attack Zhao and Chu, forcing Chu’s capital to move for several years.
In the 38th year of King Zhaoxiang’s reign, there was severe famine in Shang Commandery, and Qin attacked Wei.

Qin Shi Huang’s time was even more obvious. During his reign, five consecutive years of famine occurred, so he rushed to conquer the six states in those years.

From mid-Warring States onward, Qin would go to war whenever disaster struck, like nomads on the steppe suffering snow disasters.

Many historians analyze that Qin Shi Huang’s reign laid the groundwork for Qin’s eventual downfall, based on these facts.

Qin Shi Huang unified the six states to divert internal famine tensions, using war to reduce population and seize neighboring food supplies. But once he unified economically developed regions, there was no more territory to seize; domestic tensions accumulated, and any weaker emperor would face immediate collapse.

Zhu Xiang heard from merchants and refugees that although Qin had not encountered famine recently, harvests were not great.

The Dujiangyan irrigation project was built from 256 to 251 BC; now it’s 260 BC. The Zhengguo Canal was constructed during Qin Shi Huang’s reign. These two projects that greatly increased Qin grain output were not yet built.

At this time, Qin’s grain output was probably not much better than during the five-year famine under Qin Shi Huang.

Ah, my smart ruler who unified the six states by going to war during famines is really impressive!

Zhu Xiang shook his head hard, trying to dispel the sudden bizarre thought.

He dusted off his robe that was rubbing against the wall, and walked toward Lin Xiangru and Lian Po.

“Master Lin, Qin can’t support tens of thousands of prisoners and can’t send them back to Zhao. Doesn’t that mean this war was fought for nothing? They must kill the prisoners.” Zhu Xiang said, “Please recommend me to see King Zhao. I want to persuade him to surrender the city in exchange for the prisoners. These hundreds of thousands of Zhao people are far more important than a few cities. I am willing to personally go to Changping to persuade Bai Qi.”

Persuade the King of Qin.

Zhu Xiang thought to himself, the King of Qin should already be at Changping.

Lin Xiangru grabbed Zhu Xiang’s sleeve: “Are you really confident you can persuade Bai Qi?”

Zhu Xiang said, “We have to try.”

King Zhao will definitely agree.

Because my life as a commoner means nothing to him. So King Zhao will let me take the city map to exchange for prisoners, let me stay in Qin as a hostage, and break the deal after the prisoners are exchanged.

But it doesn’t matter. Zhu Xiang never intended to use the city to exchange for prisoners. He only needs King Zhao to agree to let him take enough grain to sustain the Zhao army for two months to Changping. That greatly improves his chance of persuading the King of Qin.

Of course, his bargaining chip for persuading the King of Qin to release prisoners isn’t just the grain supply.

He can help Qin more by weakening Zhao’s strength and King Zhao’s prestige more than killing those prisoners would.

Using his own life.

He, who had already built a good reputation among Zhao civilians, after saving tens of thousands of Zhao people, would be killed by King Zhao.

Even the most ignorant commoners wouldn’t tolerate such a king, right?