Chapter 62: Zhi Yao's "All is Fair in War"

A mere dream, coupled with a single remark from Gubu Ziqing, was not enough to prompt Zhao Yang to rashly execute a major decision like deposing an heir. Having navigated the turbulent political seas for a lifetime, witnessing countless rises and falls, glories and disgraces, Zhao Yang had seen too much. All sorts of characters had passed beneath his watchful eyes. He needed to employ his own methods to examine Zhao Wuxiul and determine whether he truly was his ideal successor.

To become the future head of the clan, one must first lead by example and strictly observe ancestral precepts. Zhao Yang therefore had the ancestral precepts carved onto two bamboo strips, handing one each to the current heir Boru and the concubine-born son Wuxiul. He instructed them to study and comprehend the rules diligently, recite them regularly, and announced that he would test them on the precepts in due course. Yet, a year passed, and then a second year. Zhao Yang seemed to have completely forgotten the matter, and the anxiety that had initially gripped Boru's heart gradually faded away. However, on a day in the third year, Zhao Yang suddenly summoned the two young men and demanded they recite the ancestral precepts from memory. Boru was instantly covered in cold sweat. Even if he had memorized them back then, how could he possibly remember them after so much time had passed? Boru turned his head to look at Wuxiul, only to find him expressionless and radiating absolute confidence. Boru's heart instantly sank to the bottom. Sure enough, Wuxiul calmly recited the ancestral precepts word for word without a single error. Upon finishing, Wuxiul swept his right hand into his left sleeve and drew out that very same bamboo strip from years ago. The color of the bamboo had deepened, and faint traces of Wuxiul's day-and-night fondling and palm-rubbing were clearly visible upon it. As for Boru's bamboo strip, he had long since discarded it somewhere, entirely forgotten.

Zhao Yang's face was wreathed in smiles as he praised Wuxiul with two successive words of approval. Then, turning his gaze to the deeply embarrassed Boru, he sighed inwardly but said nothing more. Yet Boru must have known in his heart that from this moment onward, his position as heir had become even more precarious. Being a kind and magnanimous person, he cared little for such ambitions; indeed, if the day ever came when he could shed the heavy burdens of the family leadership, he might even sing a little tune to celebrate.

Having won Zhao Yang's praise, Wuxiul maintained his usual composure, outwardly unfazed by either favor or humiliation, but his heart surged with genuine joy. He had waited far too long for this day. Because his mother was a maidservant of the Di tribe, ever since his birth into this illustrious lineage, Wuxiul had lived like a speck of dust, with no one ever bestowing upon him a second glance. On the rare occasions when exceptions occurred, they were invariably filled with looks of disdain. Yet this spectator, moving like a phantom through the margins, had long since quietly and thoroughly scrutinized every facet of the family through the cold indifference of others. He needed an opportunity to validate his own existence, to shake off the clinging mud of his lowly origins, and to radiate the myriad golden rays of his true life's essence.

Testing them on the ancestral precepts was merely a minor trial. On yet another occasion, Zhao Yang informed his sons that he had concealed a precious talisman within Mount Chang, and whoever could find it first would be richly rewarded. By then, Zhao Yang's hair and beard had turned completely white, and his sons were all fully grown men. Thus, this was no mere game, but another crucial test for selecting an heir. Everyone understood this implicitly, and consequently, they rushed into Mount Chang in a fiery haste to search everywhere, feeling both excited and nervous. Only Wuxiul remained as confident and unhurried as one strolling through a tranquil courtyard.

As dusk fell, the young lords returned one by one with dejected expressions; they had found nothing at all. At that moment, Wuxiul stepped forward and said in a clear voice, "I have already found the precious talisman!" Zhao Yang looked at him, his eyes filled with pleasant surprise. "Tell me about it!" A slight smile played at the corners of Wuxiul's lips. "Directly below Mount Chang lies the State of Dai. Setting out from the secret mountain trails, we can occupy the high ground and capture the State of Dai in a single stroke!" It was only then that Zhao Yang realized the penetrating discernment of Gubu Ziqing—Wuxiul truly was no ordinary creature confined to a shallow pond. And by launching an attack on the State of Dai, did this not fulfill the exact prophecy spoken by the interpreter of dreams? Everyone within the Zhao family was struck with awe and admiration for Wuxiul. Consequently, Zhao Yang stripped Boru of his status as heir and instated Wuxiul in his place.

On the road to becoming the head of the Zhao clan, although Wuxiul had won the support of his kinsmen, he had yet to shake off the forceful interference of an outsider—an outsider whom later generations would refer to as Zhi Bo, or Zhi Yao.

The Grudge Over a Cup of Wine

The reason the Zhi family rapidly ascended to become the preeminent power in the State of Jin was because, during the earlier elimination of the Fan and Zhonghang clans, the Zhi family had seized all of their territories. By that time, Zhi Yao had already assumed leadership of the Zhi clan.

Wuxiul was a concubine-born son of the Zhao family, and his succession to the ancestral foundation faced numerous obstacles. Zhi Yao, however, was the legitimate eldest son of the Zhi clan, placing him in an immensely advantageous position in the competition for the heirship. The threat posed by the other candidate, Zhi Xiao, was quite limited.

The previous head of the Zhi clan was Zhi Yao's father, Zhi Shen, who had long leaned toward appointing Zhi Yao as his successor. However, although Zhi Xiao lacked opportunities to distinguish himself through military exploits and had no visionary master like Gubu Ziqing to aid him, this did not mean he was entirely devoid of supporters. His uncle—who was naturally Zhi Yao's uncle as well—Zhi Gu, had consistently stood by his side.

Therefore, when Zhi Shen announced at a family council that he intended to appoint Zhi Yao as his successor, Zhi Gu immediately voiced his opposition. "Zhi Xiao is far superior to Zhi Yao; the succession should be changed in favor of Zhi Xiao." Faced with this public contradiction, Zhi Shen frowned in displeasure and retorted, "Zhi Xiao possesses a sinister and vicious countenance; he is truly unfit to be the head of the clan."

Zhi Gu continued unperturbed, "Affairs of the world have their truths and falsehoods, their realities and pretenses; one cannot judge solely by outward appearances. Zhi Xiao's facial features may be fierce, but Zhi Yao's venom is deeply rooted in his heart. Zhi Yao possesses a commanding stature with a fine beard and whiskers, the strength to lift a tripod, and exceptional skill in horsemanship and charioteering. Moreover, his mind is agile, his speech eloquent, and he is both courageous and resolute—these are all his virtues. Yet his mind is far too narrow, and he exacts retribution for the slightest offense. If someone merely brushes against him, he will sever their limbs. Such ferocity and cruelty freeze the hearts of men. How can he ever command the submission of the masses, and how can he ensure the peace and prosperity of our Zhi clan? Virtue is the commander of talent; Zhi Yao's virtue is insufficient to govern his talent. If he is appointed as heir, he will surely bring a catastrophic extermination upon our Zhi clan!"

Fairly speaking, Zhi Gu's words carried profound reason. Although monarchs of later ages were predominantly figures who licked blood from the blade of a sword, reveled in cruel slaughter, and were cold and ungracious, the times were different and could not be generalized. In the late Spring and Autumn period, institutional reforms had not yet officially begun across the various states, so their political structures still adhered to the feudal domain system. A ruler of a state did not possess absolute authority and had to govern the country in cooperation with subordinate aristocrats—such as the ranks of grand masters and knights. Consequently, while later monarchs could rely on absolute power and unrestricted violence to suppress dissent and maintain a relatively stable political situation, such methods were utterly unfeasible in the late Spring and Autumn period. Zhi Yao's habit of nursing grudges for minor slights, coupled with his blind reliance on brute force and his utter incapacity for compromise and cooperation, was bound to alienate others and invite grave disaster.

However, by this time, Zhi Shen's mind was already made up. He had convened the family council merely to proclaim his decision, with no intention of consulting the others. Thus, after Zhi Gu finished speaking, Zhi Shen did not even deign to offer a rebuttal, but instead proceeded directly to perform the grand ceremony of succession for Zhi Yao. In a fit of fierce indignation, Zhi Gu flicked his sleeves and stormed out of the assembly. Returning home, he packed his family's belongings, severed all ties with the Zhi clan, and traveled to the official historian of the Jin state—who was in charge of ancestral sacrifices—to formally renounce his membership in the Zhi clan. He changed his lineage name to Fu and established a separate ancestral temple. Possessing an almost supernatural sensitivity, the heartbroken Zhi Gu seemed to have already glimpsed, through a blur of tear-filled eyes, the ultimate ruin and destruction of the Zhi family.

Sun Wuzi lived during the late Spring and Autumn period, an era marked by a monumental military transformation in ancient China. The traditional mode of warfare, characterized by rigid battle arrays and ritualistic combat, was gradually being discarded. The core philosophy of Sun Wuzi's *The Art of War* was that in order to achieve victory on the battlefield, one could employ any necessary means—encapsulated in the principle that "warfare is based on deception," or what later ages termed "all is fair in war and stratagem."

Zhi Yao, born some eighty or ninety years after Sun Wuzi, carried this philosophy of "deception in warfare" to its absolute zenith.

After Zhi Yao succeeded Zhao Yang as the premier statesman of the State of Jin, King Fuchai of Wu dispatched Chishi as an envoy to the State of Jin to offer congratulations to Zhi Yao. When Chishi completed his mission and prepared to return to the State of Wu, Zhi Yao shed his habitual greed and insisted on sending Chishi back aboard a fleet of luxurious, gigantic vessels. Feeling suspicious and unable to discern Zhi Yao's true intentions, Chishi observed the ships closely until he discovered that hidden within the massive hulls were countless heavily armored soldiers brandishing halberds. Zhi Yao was actually plotting to launch a fatal surprise attack on the State of Wei as the vessels passed through its territory.

As it turned out, sending off the envoy was a mere pretext; attacking the State of Wei was the real objective. Yet this scheme was excessively self-serving and treacherous. Once the State of Wei was swallowed up by the Jin state under Zhi Yao's administration, the entire world would naturally assume that Chishi had accepted bribes from Zhi Yao, and that they had colluded to cover up the surprise attack. Chishi had no intention of staining his reputation and becoming the target of universal scorn. Consequently, he feigned illness and remained stranded in the State of Jin, forcing Zhi Yao to host him with lavish food and drink while the plan to attack Wei quietly dissolved into nothingness. After all, launching a military campaign was a matter of life and death for a state, and with the political landscape shifting unpredictably by the moment, suitable opportunities for military action did not present themselves at every turn.

Qiyou was a vassal state of Zhongshan, and Zhi Yao had long coveted its territory. Unfortunately, the roads connecting the State of Jin and Qiyou were excessively narrow and ruggedly impassable, rendering the war chariots—the most crucial combat vehicles of that era—completely incapable of advancing.

Zhi Yao spent days and nights obsessing over that narrow path that blocked his forward progress until he finally devised a brilliant scheme. He had a massive bell cast, with a diameter precisely matching the width of a war chariot. Once the bell was completed, he presented it as a gift to the ruler of Qiyou, requesting that he send men to transport it back. The naive ruler of Qiyou promptly ordered his troops to widen the roads and carve through the mountains. Yet, when he joyfully welcomed the exquisitely crafted, melodiously ringing bell into his domain, he was astonished to discover the mighty armies of Jin marching right behind it.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!" The mournful knell of Qiyou's subjugation thus rang out relentlessly across the heavens and earth.

From these two incidents, it was evident that Zhi Yao possessed genuine talent. He was precisely the kind of commander described in *The Art of War*—one who "moves from above the ninefold heavens," pouring down like fluid mercury with every possible stratagem exhausted. Thus, even the congratulatory visit of an envoy from Wu could be twisted into a cover for attacking Wei, and when his target shifted to Qiyou, he could have a gigantic bell cast to trick his adversary into digging their own grave. The sheer flexibility of his strategic thinking was truly beyond the reach of ordinary men.

Yet, Heaven is impartial; whenever it endows one with advantages and privileges in a certain sphere, it inevitably diminishes one in another. Consequently, geniuses are almost invariably "one-sided talents." Just as Zhi Gu had predicted, Zhi Yao's mind was too narrow, rendering him incapable of achieving true greatness.

In 468 BCE, Zhi Yao, as the chief minister of Jin, convened the various noble houses to jointly dispatch troops on a punitive expedition against the State of郑 (Zheng). By that time, Zhao Yang was aged and severely ill, so it was the heir Wuxiul who represented the Zhao clan and led their armies into battle.

There has always been a saying regarding the "dissolute music of Zheng." How could a state that spent its days given over to singing, dancing, drinking, and composing poetry possibly withstand the ferocious tiger-and-wolf armies of Jin after a prolonged campaign? Consequently, with minimal effort, the Jin forces advanced right up to the outer walls of Zheng's capital. Generally speaking, warfare during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods began in the "open fields"—meaning the border regions of the various states—while laying siege to walled cities was invariably the final phase of a war.

Because populations were sparse and borders ill-defined in those days, battles fought in the open fields tended to reach swift conclusions without excessive bloodshed. Sieges, however, were an entirely different matter. For the inhabitants within a city, a breach meant facing the immediate peril of men being captured as slaves and women subjected to violation, so they would fight to the death with desperate resolve. Cities typically maintained a certain stockpile of grain, and coupled with the towering and sturdy construction of the defensive walls, the defenders possessed the advantage of high ground and favorable terrain, giving them the upper hand.

Conversely, for the besieging forces, before the defenders' supplies were exhausted and their fighting spirit broken, their own side was bound to suffer massive casualties. A siege was a life-or-death gamble, often demanding ten lives of one's own men to extract a single life from the enemy—effectively feeding one's own soldiers to the foe in order to wear down their supplies and combat capacity!

Had the command been unified, no problems would have arisen during Jin's siege of Zheng. The complication lay in the fact that the Jin army was a coalition of several powerful houses. Consequently, the thankless and grueling task of storming the city walls became a matter of mutual buck-passing, with none of the factions willing to suffer such losses. Naturally, Zhi Yao had no intention of sticking his neck out as the primary target, so he cast a meaningful glance at Zhao Wuxiul, signaling him to lead the Zhao forces in assaulting the city walls. Wuxiul thought to himself, "You are unwilling to suffer losses, but am I a fool?" Hence, Wuxiul remained silent and ignored Zhi Yao's prompt. Anger flared within Zhi Yao's breast, but since it was a critical juncture in the midst of a campaign, it was difficult to vent his fury publicly before the troops.

Yet, because each faction was harboring its own selfish calculations, the siege ultimately fizzled out and was abandoned. Nevertheless, the Jin coalition forces had captured vast quantities of wealth and numerous captives from Zheng, rendering the campaign a major victory overall. To celebrate, a grand banquet was organized.

At the banquet, Zhi Yao, occupying the seat of honor, was in high spirits. Drinking wildly and continuously, he finally began to show signs of intoxication. Stretching out a hand to point directly at Wuxiul, he said with contempt, "Your appearance is unsightly, and your courage is meager; you are utterly repulsive. I truly cannot understand how the old General Zhao ever chose you to inherit the leadership of the clan. Is the Zhao family truly devoid of capable men?" Wuxiul met Zhi Yao's gaze without yielding an inch, replying, "My late father chose me precisely because I am capable of endurance!"

Zhi Yao burst into maniacal laughter. "Endure this for me to see!" With that, he flung the wine cup from his hand, hurling it straight at Wuxiul's face. Wuxiul was seated at an adjacent table, and at such close range, there was simply no time to evade the missile. The cup struck him squarely on the forehead. Fresh blood welled up, obscuring Wuxiul's vision as it streamed down his cheeks. Unable to bear the sight, the retainers of the Zhao family instantly drew their swords, preparing to strike Zhi Yao down. The retainers of the Zhi clan likewise drew their blades in response, and the atmosphere instantly grew as tense as a drawn bow, ready to snap at the slightest touch.

Zhi Yao looked coldly at Wuxiul, awaiting his reaction. At that moment, Wuxiul drew a strip of white silk from his bosom, wiped the blood from his face, and turned to address his retainers: "Sheath your swords!" His tone carried an indisputable air of absolute authority. The retainers had no choice but to return their blades to their scabbards and step back to their original positions. Seeing this, the members of the Zhi clan likewise reluctantly returned to their seats.

Watching Wuxiul steadily pressing the silk cloth against his forehead, and gazing at his utterly expressionless face, Zhi Yao felt a sudden, inexplicable tightening in his chest. Yet the sensation vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he dismissed it from his mind.

Upon returning to the Zhao estate, the retainers asked Wuxiul why he had prevented them from striking and avenging his humiliation. Wuxiul replied, "He who cannot endure small slights will ruin great plans. The reason my late father chose me as his successor is precisely because I am able to bear humiliation and shoulder heavy burdens. Cast your gaze further into the future; we are not yet a match for the Zhi family." Naturally, deep within Wuxiul's heart, a life-and-death struggle had already been drawn between himself and Zhi Yao.

After his drunken outburst at the banquet, Zhi Yao even went so far as to suggest to Zhao Yang that he depose Wuxiul. Having exhausted his efforts and meticulously scrutinized every candidate to select this prized son, Zhao Yang naturally turned a deaf ear to Zhi Yao's words. However, word of this eventually reached Wuxiul, fueling an even deeper enmity toward Zhi Yao within his heart.

Not long afterward, Zhao Yang passed away due to illness, and Wuxiul formally assumed the mantle of head of the Zhao clan.