HCT – Chapter 259 Bian Que Leaves and Returns

Many nobles and ministers in Yan had long been eager to surrender.

The King of Yan had already lost much of his prestige after being repeatedly defeated by Zhao.  What chilled the hearts of Yan’s nobility even more was that, during several moments when the country was on the brink of annihilation, the king—ignoring the remonstrations of his ministers—had taken the initiative to provoke Zhao.

Ever since King Zhao of Yan died, the kings that followed committed blunder after blunder. Good generals were driven away, wise ministers were neglected.

Think of Le Yi, who nearly destroyed Qi but was forced to leave by the king.

Think of General Qu, who tried to persuade the king not to attack Zhao, only to be kicked and injured by him…

The capable and loyal ministers of Yan—if they hadn’t already lost heart—were pushed out of the political circle by the king.

Zhu Xiang despised the King of Zhao, but compared to the rulers of the other five states, even Zhao Yan—mediocre as he was—could still be considered a normal king. As for the other monarchs… most were about at the same level as Zhao Yan’s foolish eldest son, Zhao Qian.

Wang Jian had not intended to persuade anyone to surrender. Since these nobles wanted to defect, they should find a way to do it themselves. That way, even if they surrendered, they wouldn’t get many benefits.

If Wang Jian sent envoys to persuade them, they would then be able to negotiate for favorable terms.

If it were Zhu Xiang, he would end the war early and reduce casualties—that was what mattered. But Wang Jian and Li Mu, as generals of a feudal era, cared first about winning beautifully, winning in a way that satisfied their pride. A benevolent man does not command troops; casualties on the battlefield were normal.

Wang Jian wanted to fight a proper, honorable war of annihilation without using outside tricks, to prove his command ability was no worse than Li Mu’s and to earn the honor of being enfeoffed.

But now… forget it.

In the morning, as he washed up, he looked at his graying temples reflected in the water basin and sighed heavily, feeling rather sorry for himself.

The envoys he had dispatched returned to report: within Jicheng, many nobles had accepted Qin’s offer and were preparing to stir up internal chaos and surrender to the Qin army.

Their main condition was that, aside from King Xi of Yan and Crown Prince Dan’s direct line, the rest of the Yan royal clan should be guaranteed safety.

Wang Jian snorted. “A fig leaf.”

They were surrendering for themselves and their families, yet by dragging in the protection of the Yan royal clan, they made themselves look like loyal ministers.

“Accept their surrender,” Wang Jian said calmly.

As he gave the order, he also instructed the Qin army to prepare for an assault—just in case.

As for whether those conditions would be honored after the surrender… he made no guarantees.

Words alone prove nothing. They might claim he promised, but where was the evidence?

If the old Yan nobility behaved and were obedient, the King of Qin would be merciful and not make things difficult for them. If they did not follow Qin law, then no promise mattered.

What does ‘all’s fair in war’ mean? What does it mean to be an old Qin man? Wang Jian embodied both—he never took promises seriously.

In early August, internal strife erupted in Jicheng. King Xi of Yan and Crown Prince Dan were killed in the chaos. The old nobility of Yan installed King Xi’s nephew as the new king, opened the city gates, and surrendered to Wang Jian.

Wang Jian annihilated another state with ease.

However, although the Yan capital Jicheng had fallen, many cities in northern Yan did not immediately submit to Qin. Instead, they harbored ambitions of independence.

During the reign of King Zhao of Yan, the state had been exceptionally powerful. Qin Kai had been dispatched to campaign against the Donghu and Joseon, bringing Liaodong under Yan’s control.

These regions had complex populations, many of them indigenous tribes used to self-governance. Thus, after Yan was destroyed, they seized the opportunity to declare independence.

The territories once controlled by Yan remained part of Qin and later Han, but were lost after the Wei-Jin era. The lands that Yan had incorporated in ancient times would not be “lit up on the map” again until the Tang dynasty’s conquest of Goguryeo—and then lost again after the Tang collapsed.

The next time they would be regained was under the Yuan.

Naturally, King Zheng of Qin intended to bring Yan’s original territories back under Qin control—but not yet.

He temporarily halted the advance, withdrew part of the army, and ordered Wang Jian to take the remaining troops to suppress resistance in the conquered Yan lands and begin local farming.

Because the Yellow River floods had arrived.

In early August, the middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River flooded.

In early September, heavy rains hit the upper reaches.

Though the riverbanks were strong, though Zhu Xiang had long prepared, the Yellow River overflowed its levees. Nothing could hold back the raging waters from ravaging both shores.

The Zheng Canal dredged by Engineer Zheng had a regulating effect. The tributaries and ponds Zhu Xiang had cleared and dug played a role as well.

But the effect was very limited.

Most of the Yellow River had no tributaries—only the lonely main river. In drought, no water flowed in; in floods, nowhere could the water spill out.

Human capability could not solve this. The Yellow River basin simply had too little rainfall; its lack of tributaries was natural. Only by building great dams to intercept the river could its flow be controlled.

That would be the Sanmenxia Dam of later eras.

At present, such a structure was impossible. The only option was to break the levees and release the floodwaters.

Relieving the flood downstream was relatively easy. Because of wartime devastation, much of the land was already barren, so the damage would be limited.

But when the upper reaches flooded, Qin was in trouble.

That was Qin’s heartland east of the passes—the most prosperous part of the state. Agriculture needed water, and cities were built along rivers. The areas affected were exactly those with the most farmland and the strongest economy.

Zhu Xiang had traveled all over Qin’s eastern lands but found no perfect location for releasing the floods. No matter where the levees were breached, vast farmlands would be submerged.

When Qin King Zheng received Zhu Xiang’s flood warnings and saw the maps he had drawn through ruined straw sandals, he lit lamps and contemplated them throughout the night, finally circling several potential drainage zones.

Qin troops assembled and forcibly drove residents out of those areas.

Although the king promised compensation, who would willingly watch fields nearly ready for harvest drown under muddy water?

Who would want their homeland turned into a vast lake?

Who would willingly leave everything behind to start over?

No one.

For the first time since his accession, civil unrest broke out in Qin.

The king ordered harsh punishment for the ringleaders; accomplices would be spared heavy penalties if they surrendered promptly.

As many refugees became penal laborers, flood relief became easier—no constraints, no hesitation.

Thus, many later historians speculated that the king’s crude handling of the situation was intentional.

Zhu Xiang also considered this possibility but did not ask.

A ruler was like a general. Just as you cannot ask a general why he sends bait troops to die, you cannot ask why Qin King Zheng provoked civil unrest.

Besides, the flood diversion plan was his proposal; the maps were his work.

Zhu Xiang inspected the levees day and night, stationed at the confluence of the Wei and Yellow Rivers to prevent the Yellow River from bursting into the Wei.

If that levee broke, the Wei River basin would be endangered, and the disaster would spread even further across Qin.

King Zheng did not patrol the levees; he inspected the other fertile flood-stricken plains, urging people to seize brief moments of clear weather to harvest, and executing hoarders on the spot.

Wherever he went, heads rolled.

Two consecutive months of flooding turned the Yellow River into a rampaging monster.

The lands of the Three Jin—just conquered by Qin—were devastated. Rumors spread wildly that Qin had offended Heaven and was being punished. Old nobles in the Three Jin territories stirred restlessly, hoping to take the opportunity to rebel.

At this moment, Zhang Liang came to the side of King Zheng.

After the two discussed the matter for an entire day, Zhang Liang left with King Zheng of Qin’s edict.

New rumors began spreading throughout the lands of the Three Jin.

Do you still remember the locust plague? When Qin resisted the locusts, those aloof scholars claimed Qin was suffering Heaven’s punishment. As if other states never had locust plagues?

The Yellow River floods every few years. Qin actively managed the floods, yet people said Qin was being punished by Heaven. Were the Three Jin, who let the floods ravage their lands unchecked, supposed to be thanking Heaven for gifting them disasters, so they refused to save their people?

Zhang Liang also spread rumors everywhere that the old nobles of the Six States, in order to restore their countries, cared nothing for the lives of the common people and were secretly trying to open the dikes to drown even more farmland.

He even sent death warriors disguised as servants of the old Six-State nobles to various dikes and had them sabotage the structures—then sent troops to “capture” them.

During this time, there really were clueless old nobles from the Six States who tried to take advantage of the chaos and dispatched people to damage the dikes.

Zhang Liang, already prepared, immediately seized them and pinned all his operations on these idiots.

Zhang Liang fanned the flames everywhere. When the floodwaters were about to breach again and further release was necessary, he ignited every spark, directing the disaster victims to storm the manors of old Six-State nobles who were hoarding goods or secretly building up forces in preparation for rebellion.

The enraged victims killed these people and seized their grain.

The Qin army immediately moved in to suppress the rebellion, calm the victims, executed several ringleaders, and then renovated the remaining manors of the old nobles to turn them into resettlement shelters for refugees.

Thus the radicals among the victims were eliminated, the nobles who attempted to stir up trouble in secret were eradicated, grain stores were replenished, and the people’s fury found release.

The flood-control efforts of King Zheng of Qin suddenly proceeded much more smoothly.

After Zhang Liang finished everything, he returned to King Zheng and was officially appointed Neili (Internal Administrator).

None of this was known to Zhu Xiang.

But seeing how events unfolded, he vaguely sensed that someone must have intervened and steered things.

He did not write a letter to ask; he simply continued patrolling the dikes day and night, doing everything he could to preserve as many of them as possible.

At the end of September, rainfall finally decreased, the flood peak passed, and the water level began to recede.

Zhu Xiang immediately hurried to the flood-release areas, joining the returning commoners, the convict laborers sent by the king, and the Qin army in clearing silt, rescuing any buried grain that might still be salvageable, and planting emergency crops.

Relief grain from King Zheng also arrived.

Under Zhu Xiang’s leadership, with government aid supplementing efforts, the victims’ emotions stabilized, and they finally survived the devastation of the flood.

But after great floods come great plagues; crop failure and hunger were only part of the disaster.

Zhu Xiang wrote a letter to Bian Que in Southern Qin seeking help, hoping he would send disciples.

Although both Guanzhong and Guandong had no shortage of physicians, Bian Que had studied schistosomiasis in Southern Qin and had deep knowledge of post-flood epidemics. He was especially well-versed in preventing diseases associated with Yellow River floods.

Before the flood struck, Zhu Xiang had already sent someone to ask Bian Que to dispatch disciples.

By the time Zhu Xiang had already used his limited public health knowledge to control the outbreak, Bian Que’s disciples arrived belatedly.

At the same time, the portrait of Bian Que in his favorability list dimmed.

Seeing the disciples’ rough hemp outer robes, Zhu Xiang said nothing, merely assigned them their tasks.

“Lord Zhu Xiang, our master left many books in Wu Commandery. He wished to offer them to you,” the new Bian Que said.

Zhu Xiang nodded. “When the epidemic ends, I will return to Wu Commandery… to see your master off.”

Zhu Xiang did not even know the old man’s real name—only his surname.

Even the favorability list did not record the old man’s name, only the characters “Bian Que.”

The “Bian Que” in his favorability list dimmed, and a new “Bian Que” lit up.

Bian Que was the divine physician who walked among the people, a title passed down from generation to generation.

Once they inherited the name, they were Bian Que—nothing more, nothing less.

The tombstone of the old man also bore only that name; only within his coffin were his past and identity preserved.

When he became too old to travel, the elder Bian Que settled in Wu Commandery to write and compile.

He believed Zhu Xiang’s words.

Zhu Xiang had said he would establish medical education in the Xianyang Academy. If he could not, he would fund a medical college himself in Xianyang to systematically train physicians.

A medical academy needed textbooks, and Bian Que devoted himself to this task.

He also wished to gather more colleagues to conduct research. But not everyone shared his compassion and the desire to make medical knowledge accessible to all.

Medical practitioners were treated like craftsmen—they did not view medicine as scholarship, but a skill to guard jealously, a trade for earning a living.

Like craftsmen who feared “teaching the apprentice starves the master,” so too did medical artisans.

But physicians were not supposed to be artisans; like the philosophers of the Hundred Schools, they were originally scholars seeking a path to heal the world. They were seekers of the Way.

They wanted not only to cure one person or one disease, but carried the simple desire that “all illnesses may be cured” and “a world without suffering.”

Bian Que wanted medical skills to spread, to be passed on to many.

As long as one wished to learn, one should be able to learn medicine.

When his colleagues rejected his plea, Bian Que did not feel discouraged. His determination only grew stronger.

He devoted the rest of his life to writing medical texts.

Now he entrusted his life’s work and hopes to Zhu Xiang.

When Zhu Xiang learned that Bian Que had entrusted him with numerous medical books, Bian Que even entered his dream.

He smiled and congratulated Zhu Xiang, saying that the medical textbooks were completed and students could now be admitted.

However, the books still needed proofreading and would require many people to continue refining them.

Zhu Xiang replied with a smile, “The predecessors have paved the way; the rest must be walked and carved out by those who follow. When have predecessors ever finished everything? Rest assured—the path of medicine has only begun, and future generations will not disappoint you.”

Bian Que said, “With Lord Zhu Xiang’s promise, this old man may rest easy.”

He cupped his hands respectfully and faded from the dream.

He stayed only briefly, said little, and left calmly.

No sorrow, no regret—only to personally deliver a message and confirm Zhu Xiang’s promise.

When Zhu Xiang awoke, he had received a gift from Bian Que:

A special stalk of Artemisia annua—sweet wormwood.

Sweet wormwood is the key herb for extracting artemisinin, the miracle drug for treating malaria. The concentration of artemisinin in this particular stalk was very high.

Zhu Xiang did not know how to extract or purify artemisinin. He had only heard that one of the steps was low-temperature alcohol extraction. But as long as this plant was cultivated, commoners could chew it directly or soak it in medicinal wine for some effect against malaria.

In later generations in Africa, some people transplanted sweet wormwood back to their villages and taught locals to use it to prevent and treat malaria, with good results.

Zhu Xiang only needed to follow their example.

After floods, mosquitoes breed, and malaria is one of the most common resulting epidemics.

Zhu Xiang took out the sweet wormwood and ordered a nationwide search for similar herbs to be sent to the epidemic zones.

He had previously known sweet wormwood could treat malaria, but being only an agricultural professor, he had never grown it and did not recognize it. With this specimen, he could finally identify it.

Although finding it now might not help much with this particular outbreak, Qin would be ready the next time malaria struck.

That is what it meant to prepare in advance.

King Zheng also issued an edict summoning physicians from across the land to Xianyang, establishing a medical department in the Xianyang Academy, and heavily rewarding those willing to share their knowledge.

Lured by fame and fortune, the formerly tight-fisted famous doctors were finally moved.

…

When Qin was fighting the floods, Chu also experienced flooding. But the Yellow River only passed through a very short stretch of Chu territory, and the areas near the river were border zones, so the floods barely affected Chu.

With Yan destroyed, the people of Chu finally stopped their internal strife.

Only Chu remained. If they kept fighting among themselves, they would be doomed.

Xiang Yan still cared about Chu. Taking advantage of Qin being fully occupied with disaster relief and unable to focus on foreign affairs, Xiang Yan and King Qi of Chu reached a compromise, each yielding a little.

King Qi moved the capital to Xiangcheng, renaming it “Yingdu”—all Chu capitals were called “Ying,” and even their old capital Chen, officially, was also “Yingdu.”

Xiang Yan became Lingyin (Chief Minister), was also appointed Grand General, and his fief increased by one hundred thousand households.

Everyone knew that once Qin recovered, they would certainly attack Chu.

Xiang Yan began preparing the Chu army, summoning and gathering over four hundred thousand soldiers to resist the Qin advance.

But when he began arranging troops, he faced a headache.

Originally, Chu was bordered by Qin on three sides. After Wang Jian carved out a narrow route near the eastern coastal region to support Qi, Chu was now surrounded on all four sides.

After discussing with King Qi, Xiang Yan led his more than 400,000 troops eastward to strike the Qin–Qi passage, hoping to avoid being attacked from all directions.

But when Xiang Yan’s army reached the Qin-occupied cities in the east, he discovered that the Qin army had quietly abandoned them.