HCT – Chapter 263 King Qi of Chu Dies for Chu

King Qi of Chu could be considered the most resilient and clear-headed ruler among all the kings of the states destroyed by Qin.

He opened the palace treasury to reward the soldiers, mobilized city residents to join the defense, and personally donned armor to climb the walls and encourage the defending troops.

He understood well that a leader should not recklessly interfere. All matters regarding the city’s defense were entrusted entirely to the generals. Even when some nobles opposed certain decisions made by the defending commander, as long as no mistake had occurred, he suppressed all dissent so the generals could focus with peace of mind.

He also repeatedly sent men out to break through the siege and try to contact Xiang Yan, informing him of the situation inside the city.

It could be said—King Qi of Chu had done everything he could possibly do.

Looking at the routed Chu soldiers outside the city, he let out a long sigh.

He had done all he could, and yet—it was all futile.

“Your Majesty, please escape!” Witnessing the scene below the walls, the hereditary nobles of Chu were utterly desperate.

Xiang Yan was not only the only capable general Chu had left—he had also taken with him the last elite forces of Chu! Now that Xiang Yan had been defeated, what hope did Chu have left against Qin?

King Qi cast a cold glance at them.

He sneered, “If I continue to hold the city, will you bind me and send me to the Qin army? Just as happened to the King of Yan?”

The nobles immediately protested, “Your Majesty speaks nonsense!”

King Qi shook his head. “It is not nonsense.”

What was most despairing was not Xiang Yan’s defeat—but the fact that Chu was the last of the Six States left.

Even if he escaped, what then? Chu was surrounded on all sides; it would still be devoured bit by bit.

The King of Qin treated the nobles of conquered states kindly. Once Chu fell, Chu lands would still require Chu scholars to govern. Among the people around him—how many already entertained thoughts of defecting?

Earlier, with Xiang Yan’s main army outside, Xiangcheng still had hope of holding. So those thoughts of surrender had been suppressed.

But now the only person capable of resisting Qin—Xiang Yan—had been defeated. Looking across all of Chu, where could another capable leader suddenly appear?

Any resistance now was nothing but futile struggle.

“I knew from the moment I returned to Chu from Qin that it was a hopeless path,” King Qi recalled his days living in Qin.

The King of Qin had treated him very well. If he had been willing to serve wholeheartedly, as a relative by marriage, he would not have lacked a marquisate.

One misstep—and his short life had been thrown into turmoil.

If he could go back, would he choose differently?

King Qi did not know.

When he decided to return, Chu still had vast territory, strong power, and could still contend with Qin. His father the king was not yet muddled, and Lord Chunshen was still serving as Lingyin.

Who could have known that in just a few years after his return, the once-glorious state would collapse overnight—Chu’s eight hundred years would vanish in an instant?

“Your Majesty, if we retreat to Chen, we can still hold!” urged a noble.

King Qi finished reminiscing and replied calmly, “If we can retreat.”

He knew the great trend was already set, yet he still wanted to resist to the end. Perhaps only when everyone around him who supported him had died in battle would he feel he had not betrayed the path he had chosen?

King Qi did not open the gates, allowing the routed soldiers outside to wail in despair.

Li Mu returned to the walls of Xiangcheng and drove the Chu soldiers to beat the gates and walls with their weapons in hopeless frenzy, consuming the defenders’ supplies and stamina.

Holding a telescope in one hand and a whip in the other, Li Mu pointed at the city tower. “The King of Chu is up there. He’s probably looking for where Xiang Yan is.”

Meng Tian happily lifted a blood-stained head. “Right here!”

Li Mu said, “Take it and show him.”

Meng Tian spurred his horse forward. “Alright!”

Li Mu casually picked a Chu man’s head and hung it on a flagpole for Meng Tian to display.

“Xiang Yan is dead! Surrender at once!”

Meng Tian shook the flagpole proudly, showing off beneath the gate where King Qi stood.

The Chu army had already collapsed. Meng Tian’s smugness was too natural to seem fake. Even before the defenders on the wall believed him, the routed troops below believed it first.

Some fell to their knees and surrendered; others beat even harder against the walls and gates.

Shouts of “General Xiang is dead!” echoed repeatedly among the routed troops, drowning out Meng Tian’s flaunting.

Among the routed soldiers was Xiang Yan himself.

He nearly rushed out shouting, “I’m not dead!” but was forcefully held down by his guards and deputy general.

“General! They’re trying to trick you!”

Xiang Yan knew that—but he was anxious.

Those in Xiangcheng were mediocre. If they believed he was dead, the defenders’ morale would collapse, and the city would fall!

He did not believe that grief over his supposed death would make them fight harder—“mourning troops fight to win” only if soldiers already possessed high morale and deep emotional loyalty.

But Xiang Yan had taken all the loyal soldiers on campaign; the garrison left behind were mostly private troops of the Mi clan. They felt little loyalty to him.

As he expected, once “Xiang Yan is dead!” echoed below, the hard-won stability King Qi had maintained immediately began to crumble.

The soldiers’ morale plummeted, and again nobles urged the king to flee.

King Qi said coldly, “Even if I wished to flee, how could I? You want to use me as bait so you can surrender.”

He could not be bothered to argue further—he simply exposed their intentions.

Xiangcheng was surrounded by Qin forces, hemmed in by routed troops. How could he possibly break out?

If he could break out, why would he have lost contact with Xiang Yan?

They only wanted him to open the gates so he could be captured, allowing them to surrender smoothly.

The nobles immediately knelt and swore they had no such thoughts.

King Qi glanced at them and said, “If you wish to flee, I can open the gates and let you go first.”

The moment he said this, those who wanted to run fell silent.

Whoever escaped first would become a target—they were not fools.

King Qi sighed deeply.

Before him were only two paths:

To hold the city until it fell and die in battle—or to lead all defenders in breaking out and flee north to continue resisting Qin.

But Chu’s territory was only so large, almost entirely flat plains. Xiangcheng was already at the center.

North lay Qin territory; south was occupied by Qin armies. Beyond Chu, there was only Qin. Where could he go?

Just as he struggled, the routed soldiers outside literally hacked a gap into the city wall.

Though defenders drove them back with crossbows and quickly filled the gap with stones and earth, morale inevitably dropped.

King Qi no longer went to the walls. He shut himself in the palace, clutching his head, thinking of a way out.

At that moment, Li Mu sent a letter from below.

It was lifted up in a bamboo basket through ropes and delivered to King Qi.

It was, of course, a letter urging surrender.

“I know the King of Chu wishes to die for Chu, but I ask that the King leave behind the texts stored in the royal archives. Chu’s eight centuries—its past is recorded in those texts. The king may die for Chu, but Chu’s past should not die with it.”

King Qi was stunned. Then he burst out laughing.

“This is a surrender letter?” He laughed until he shed tears, even coughing.

“No wonder he is a friend of Lord Zhu Xiang—not an ordinary general.” Indeed, King Qi had planned to burn the palace archives. After reading Li Mu’s letter, he was persuaded.

If Qin did not intend to burn Chu’s history, how could he, as Chu’s last king, destroy it?

Chu might perish—but its legacy would remain. Those old records were all in the texts he had brought from Chen.

Suddenly, his mind cleared.

He realized what he must do.

While Xiang Yan still pondered how to break into the city to escort King Qi away, King Qi instead handed a surrender document to Li Mu.

“I will yield—only do not harm my people.”

Li Mu sighed deeply upon receiving the letter. He ordered the Qin troops not to plunder once inside; he would personally gather the wealth of the city and distribute it to the soldiers.

Li Mu had always been generous. His troops became wealthy without plunder, so their discipline was excellent.

Meng Tian was so delighted he looked like an excited new recruit, personally running around passing orders.

The Qin soldiers themselves reacted calmly.

They had followed Li Mu for more than a decade; they had never plundered after breaching a city. Even without orders, they would not do so.

Plundering risked death and injury; receiving rewards from Lord Wucheng brought much more wealth.

After issuing orders, Li Mu appeared to persuade the routed Chu soldiers outside the city and deliberately opened a corridor to allow those unwilling to surrender to leave.

Xiang Yan was stunned.

These routed soldiers, if reorganized, could continue resisting. Since Bai Qi pioneered annihilation warfare, the six states learned to leave the enemy no surviving forces. And Qin’s merit system was based on taking heads! How could Li Mu let them go? Was he not releasing tigers back into the mountains?

Xiang Yan could not understand his decision.

But since Li Mu left him a path to survive, he glanced at the city walls and used it to escape.

Seeing Li Mu’s actions, he knew the King of Chu would surely surrender. There was no need for him to remain.

Xiang Yan decided to return to Chen, gather the routed troops, and support a royal clansman as a new king to continue resisting Qin.

“General, you’ve shown the King of Chu too much sincerity. What if he goes back on his word?” Meng Tian voiced his confusion.

Li Mu shook his head. “I would not have plundered the city even without this surrender. That is no sincerity. As for releasing the routed soldiers… ha, they have exhausted themselves hacking at the walls all day. They are already useless and must be driven away to avoid disrupting our assault.”

Meng Tian asked, “So the reason you left them a way out is simply to avoid wasting Qin strength on them?”

Li Mu smiled approvingly. “Taking Xiangcheng is what matters now. Once Xiangcheng falls, the remaining Chu cities will collapse easily. If the routed troops reach other cities, they will only spread news of Xiang Yan’s defeat and the king’s surrender—crushing enemy morale far more effectively.”

Meng Tian once again felt enlightened. It seemed warfare was not only about annihilation.

Even if Qin sent its own men to spread the news, how could that compare to the speed of routed troops fleeing everywhere?

They were already frightened out of their wits, and no one knew what kind of stories they might come up with—stories even more fantastical than reality—far more terrifying than the Qin army telling the truth themselves.

Meng Tian quietly jotted this down in his mental notebook. The most important thing he had learned from Lord Wucheng was that a commander never focuses on a single battle. Before a war even begins, the commander must have already set his objective. Every battle exists for that supreme goal. This was a view of the greater picture.

Meng Tian lifted his head to look at the general before him—past forty, yet still spirited and vigorous—and his heart filled with longing.

One day, I will become a great general like him!

Li Mu said, “Still, I believe in Xiong Qi. Since he said he would surrender and even offered the condition ‘do not harm the people,’ then he truly means to yield.”

Meng Tian nodded.

Just as Li Mu predicted, after seeing the routed soldiers released by the Qin army, King Qi of Chu really did lead his nobles out of the city to surrender.

He not only presented Li Mu with his letter of capitulation, but also issued a proclamation to the people of Chu, urging them to yield to Qin.

Qin had essentially taken all under heaven—only a few scraps of Chu territory remained. The structure of Qin replacing Zhou had already taken shape. If the people of Chu continued resisting, it would only lead to pointless casualties.

The king could die for Chu, but the people did not need to. They could become Qin subjects.

King Qi of Chu also wrote to King Zheng of Qin, hoping he would become a benevolent and diligent ruler—a wise king for all under heaven.

“If you go to Xianyang, you can live out your life in wealth and honor,” Li Mu said.

He understood his student’s temperament. Toward the kings of Han, Qi, and the others, Zheng would hold his nose and treat them well, but sooner or later, he would torment them quietly.

But a king like King Qi—someone with a glimmer of honor—Zheng would genuinely grant him lifelong prosperity.

King Qi said, “Looking across the Six States, not one king died for his country. There should be at least one king who leaves the people of later generations a little more respect for this era’s end.”

He lifted his head to the sky of Chu. “Chu has stood for eight hundred years. Its last king should at least have some dignity.”

Li Mu said, “Rest assured, Your Majesty—I will treat your family well. Your birth mother is still alive and living comfortably.”

King Qi’s eyes widened in surprise, then he laughed through his tears. “In this life, the only person I have wronged is my own mother.”

After speaking, he knelt toward the northwest and bowed deeply.

Then he stood.

“Lord Wucheng, as the last king of Chu, I cannot face my ancestors, nor dare I enter their mausoleum. Please bury me beside Lord Chunshen. Lord Chunshen will not despise me.”

King Qi wiped the dust from his face and straightened his crown. “I… I have done my best. Lord Chunshen will not blame me.”

Li Mu said, “Of course. Had Your Majesty succeeded the throne smoothly, and worked in harmony with Lord Chunshen, Chu might have become Qin’s greatest threat.”

King Qi smiled. “That is the highest praise I’ve received in this life.”

He removed the long sword from his waist and sighed. “When I was still crown prince, Lord Chunshen gifted me this sword.”

Amid the weeping of his ministers, King Qi of Chu used the sword Lord Chunshen had given him and took his own life, falling onto his back.

Li Mu half-kneeled beside him, letting out a long sigh. Then he ordered the Qin army to stand in solemn silence to honor the last king of Chu.

“King Qi has died for Chu. People of Chu, do not resist further,” Li Mu said to the remaining ministers. “Do not fail the king’s sacrifice. Go persuade the remaining cities.”

The nobles all wept in agreement.

Chu was not yet formally destroyed, but it was already gone. Even if someone later claimed to be King of Chu, the title of “the last King of Chu” would forever belong to King Qi—none could take it from him.

Li Mu wondered how Zheng would react when he heard this news.

King Qi’s death would place him in an exalted position in the hearts of the Chu people…

…

Half a month later, the news reached Xianyang.

King Zheng of Qin was silent for a long time. Then he told Zhang Liang, “Look at the King of Chu… and look at the King of Han!”

Zhang Liang slammed the document in his hand onto the desk with a loud crack.

King Zheng withdrew his gaze, deep in thought.

After a while, he said, “Build a shrine for King Qi of Chu and Lord Chunshen. Enshrine them both.”

Zhang Liang said, “You aren’t afraid their reputations will become too great?”

King Zheng replied, “The greater their reputation, the more the people of Chu will resent the downfall of their own country. If Lord Chunshen had not been executed… if Prince Qi had not been deposed… would Chu have fallen so far?”

Zhang Liang said flatly, “Chu would still have fallen. It would only have been harder. Qin’s unification of the world could not have been stopped.”

“Of course,” King Zheng said.

He fell silent again, eventually sighing. “Among the rulers of the Six States, only King Qi of Chu still resembled a decent monarch. A pity that he did not inherit the throne legitimately, but was placed there by Xiang Yan.”

A faint sorrow appeared in Zhang Liang’s eyes.

A king raised to the throne by a general—one could hardly imagine a less legitimate accession. If not for the Qin threat, Xiang Yan elevating him would surely have stripped him of all real power.

His timing was terrible as well. By the time he ascended, Chu had only the tiny region north of the Huai River left. The hour of destruction hovered plainly before them, without the slightest hope.

As King Qi himself said, when he accepted the crown, he did so knowing he would be a monarch of a doomed state.

If, when he fled Qin, the title of “King of Chu” still held some allure, that was understandable. But when he left Wei to return to Chu, he had already abandoned all personal interest.

King Qi of Chu was indeed worthy of respect—and worthy of being honored alongside Lord Chunshen.

Look at the other kings of the Six States—blue-blooded nobles who never suffered hardship, ascending their thrones smoothly. Even Zhao King Yan’s slight struggle for succession ended within days.

These kings were raised by their states and their people, yet never sought to repay them; King Qi of Chu grew up in Qin, yet died for Chu.

The irony was sharp.

“That Xiang Yan intends to install another Chu royal descendant to continue opposing Qin?” King Zheng sneered. “He really doesn’t stop. His whole family is in Qin, yet he still resists.”

Zhang Liang said, “Xiang Yan is incapable in many ways, but his spirit is admirable.”

King Zheng shook his head. “Spirit? What spirit? King Qi used his life to plead for the people of Chu, hoping to spare them needless bloodshed. But Xiang Yan? He drags the people of Chu into pointless suffering. Should they thank him—or hate him?”

Zhang Liang said, “Who knows? We are not Chu people.”

King Zheng said, “True. Speaking of which, you and the King of Han…”

Zhang Liang drew his sword and hacked off the corner of King Zheng’s desk, then kicked over a nearby chair and stormed off in fury.

King Zheng sighed and said to Meng Yi, “Look at him—his temper is getting worse, isn’t it?”

Meng Yi: “…”

He had originally wanted to stay with Zhu Xiang. But Zhu Xiang feared Zhang Liang would clash with Zheng, so he urged Meng Yi to hurry back. With Meng Yi mediating, perhaps things would not escalate.

So Meng Yi reluctantly returned to King Zheng’s side, becoming one of the king’s inner officials.

Zhang Liang, being from Han and a disciple of Han Fei, could only serve in such a position if he earned enough merit to silence dissent. Meng Yi, however, came from a prestigious Qin family, and King Zheng could promote him at will.

After returning to the palace, Meng Yi watched King Zheng and Zhang Liang quarrel every few days, and at last understood why Zhang Liang refused to come to Xianyang.

He had once felt angry at Zhang Liang for looking down on King Zheng. The king wishes to appoint you—how dare you complain?

Now he began to pity him.

He recalled the letters from his brother. After Meng Tian followed Zhu Xiang south more than a decade ago, he often wrote to complain about King Zheng—gently at first, then less so as he grew older. Meng Yi had almost forgotten.

Because he was shy, Meng Yi never followed Zhu Xiang and did not grow up beside Zheng. His understanding of King Zheng was shallow. Despite Meng Tian’s warnings, the Qin king he saw was always mature and ruthless.

As crown prince, Zheng had handled many major cases personally—such as the great affair involving slander against Zhu Xiang.

So Meng Yi’s image of King Zheng had always been towering and radiant.

He had never imagined King Zheng also had this side.

Driving Zhang Liang away—what good would that do? They needed Zhang Liang to work!

“Sigh, he’s run off again. His tasks…” King Zheng said, “Take those documents to the Zhang residence, tell his brother that Liang lost his temper again, and ask him to persuade Liang to return to work.”

Meng Yi had endured this for too long. He could no longer hold back.

Relying on his status as one of Lord Zhu Xiang’s juniors, he questioned King Zheng: “Your Majesty, why must you provoke Zhang Liang every time?”

King Zheng replied, righteously, “I was only joking. He’s the petty one.”

Meng Yi: “…”

Meng Yi asked, “Was it like this before as well?”

King Zheng: “Yes!”

Meng Yi said, “Your Majesty, are you aware that Zhang Liang refuses to come to Xianyang?”

King Zheng burst into loud laughter—

“HAHAHAHAHAHA.”

Meng Yi: “…”

Clearly the king already knew.

He sighed, gathered the documents Zhang Liang was supposed to handle along with the royal decree, and went to Zhang Liang’s brother to lodge the complaint.

Hang in there, Zhang Liang…

…

Zhu Xiang soon heard of the situation.

With a sigh, he packed his belongings and headed south to Chu.

Although King Qi had said he wished to be buried with Lord Chunshen, Chu nobles still hoped he would remain in Chu soil. So his burial had not yet been arranged.

And knowing the Chunshen family, they might not be pleased to have King Qi associated with them again—even though King Qi had never wronged Lord Chunshen.

But Lord Chunshen, Zhu Xiang knew, would have welcomed him. As his friend, Zhu Xiang felt obliged to see King Qi’s final wish fulfilled.

Xiang Yan had installed a distant branch of the Chu royal clan as a new king.

That child’s family, having already been estranged from the main line, had not accompanied King Qi to Xiangcheng.

For them, this was probably a calamity dropping from the sky.

Still, Xiang Yan’s act came from loyalty to Chu, so he had many supporters. Li Mu still needed to root out resistance one fortress at a time. Chu could not escape spilling more needless blood.

Thankfully, most noble families of the Mi clan supported King Qi, rejecting the legitimacy of Xiang Yan’s puppet king. So many strongholds opened their gates, and Qin’s losses were not severe.

When Zhu Xiang arrived, Chu was still in chaos. Li Mu saw him and his face darkened instantly.

“Zheng’er couldn’t restrain you?!” Li Mu snapped. “If you insist on soothing the people, you could at least wait until I finish pacifying Chu!”

Zhu Xiang said, “Zheng’er? Call him His Majesty, the Great King, the King of Qin. Li Mu, show some respect, or I’ll file a complaint!”

Li Mu rolled his eyes.

Zhu Xiang continued, “Anyway, never mind that. Look!”

He pulled out a thick stack of papers.

Li Mu glanced at them—and froze.

Zhu Xiang said, “I didn’t expect that you, Li Mu—Mr. Thick Brows and Righteousness—could write such arrogant, boastful things.”

What Zhu Xiang held were the taunting battle proclamations Li Mu had spread through Chu, full of insults directed at Xiang Yan—written solely to provoke him into battle!

Li Mu stiffened. Where had Zhu Xiang even found these?!

(Meng Tian: Achoo!)

Zhu Xiang grinned wickedly, leaning closer. “Come on, General Li, I’ve never seen this side of you before. Read them aloud for a friend, will you? I want to hear how you—hey, don’t run!”

A faint red tint crept across Li Mu’s sun-darkened face as he turned to flee.

Zhu Xiang chased him, waving the papers.

Meng Tian rubbed his nose and sneezed several more times.