A City on the Brink

The news struck Xianyang like a thunderbolt. For the first time in its history as the western capital of Qin, this bustling metropolis trembled with genuine fear. The unrest began in Shangshang Quarter, the commercial heart where merchants from the six rival states congregated. To these eastern traders, the approach of a million-strong coalition army toward Hangu Pass represented something far more terrifying than what the native Qin people perceived.

As word spread, the eastern merchants spoke with one voice: “This time, Qin is truly finished!” That very night, the wealthiest magnates gathered in the venerable Weifeng Inn for urgent consultations. Would Qin turn against them? Should they flee or stay? The debate raged without resolution until Chu merchant Yi Mao slammed his fist on the table: “Qin’s destruction is imminent! These western barbarians have lived by plunder and slaughter, worse than the Rongdi tribes. Knowing their end approaches, they’ll surely loot us merchants to fund their retreat into the wilderness. Within ten days, Qin troops will seal the borders and confiscate our goods. There’s only one choice: leave now!” With that dramatic exit, Yi Mao left his stunned colleagues scrambling to follow suit.

The Great Merchant Exodus

What followed was economic pandemonium. Carriages clattered through the streets as shops shuttered, goods were inventoried, and transport hired at prices inflated tenfold overnight. Even ordinary Qin citizens found themselves handsomely paid as porters, bewildered by the merchants’ apparent madness. Properties that couldn’t be moved—mansions, shops, taverns—were sold at fire-sale prices, a six-courtyard estate going for a mere ten gold pieces. Yet no Qin merchant dared buy, confirming the easterners’ worst fears that confiscation was imminent.

The chaos in Shangshang Quarter, Xianyang’s economic engine, soon reached the highest levels of government. Newly appointed capital administrator Ying Xian raced to inform Chancellor Wei Ran, who initially wanted to seal the city gates immediately. But wisdom prevailed—this required the Dowager Queen’s decision.

A Monarch’s Dilemma

In the palace’s eastern study, Dowager Queen Xuan and young King Zhao were already analyzing the crisis at Hangu Pass. In her characteristic style, the queen pressed her son for solutions rather than imposing her own. The king’s response was characteristically terse: “Fight.” But when pressed for specifics—commanders, logistics, troop numbers, strategy—he admitted these required consultation. His simple declaration of Qin’s traditional battle cry—”Valiant old Qin, together facing national calamity”—satisfied his mother’s test of leadership.

The sudden arrival of Wei Ran and Ying Xian with news of the merchant panic forced immediate action. Wei Ran advocated forcibly recalling fleeing merchants and detaining them under guard until after the war, with promises of compensation. But Dowager Queen Xuan had a more sophisticated approach—throw open the city gates, provide free transport, and guarantee property protection for returning merchants. “To keep people, you must keep their hearts,” she declared—a philosophy that would prove pivotal in Qin’s eventual unification of China.

The Merchant Dilemma

The government’s unexpected generosity created an agonizing choice for the merchants. Qin had become the largest and most stable market in the Warring States world, with honest transactions and prompt payments—especially for military supplies like salt, iron, and weapons. The prospect of abandoning such lucrative trade was painful enough; now with Qin’s assurances, many reconsidered. Merchants from smaller states like Zhou, Song, and Zhongshan, with no direct conflicts with Qin, were the first to unpack. Even some from the six major states stayed, unable to resist Qin’s business environment and fair treatment.

A Nation Mobilizes

While the merchant crisis abated, broader panic took hold across Qin. Farmers hid grain, families secured valuables, and refugees streamed from border regions into the central plains. The Meng, Xi, and Bai clans—Qin’s legendary cavalry families—mobilized entire communities, down to children preparing makeshift weapons. This level of national distress was unprecedented, surpassing even the crisis when Wei forces threatened Mount Hua during Duke Xian’s reign.

The government responded with a royal proclamation emphasizing Qin’s military prowess and determination, personally signed by the king and chancellor pledging to lead the defense. County magistrates fanned out to reassure the populace, stabilizing the situation within ten days. But the critical question remained—who would command?

The Search for a General

Behind palace walls, the leadership grappled with this existential question. Wei Ran volunteered himself with Bai Qi as deputy, but concerns arose about leaving administration to the aging Chu Liji. The dowager queen then made her bold proposal—appoint the young Bai Qi as supreme commander. At under thirty, his youth raised eyebrows, but she argued compellingly: “Talent like Shang Yang and Su Qin emerged young. If Bai Qi succeeds, Qin gains a brilliant young general to complement its administrative strengths.”

After initial hesitation, the king agreed. The stage was set for one of history’s most remarkable military ascensions—just as Bai Qi himself arrived, exhausted from frontline reconnaissance.

The Making of a Legend

Bai Qi’s dramatic entrance—collapsing at the palace gates after riding hundreds of miles—epitomized his legendary dedication. Revived with tea and a massive bowl of lamb stew, he delivered crucial intelligence: the coalition forces numbered 650,000 troops, not the feared million. His matter-of-fact report, followed by an amusing anecdote about competitive eating that broke the tension, sealed his appointment.

The next day’s ceremony at Lantian Camp showcased Qin’s military discipline. Twenty-three generals snapped to attention as King Zhao invested Bai Qi with unprecedented authority—not just the standard dragon and tiger tallies to mobilize frontier troops, but the rare black eagle tally granting access to capital guards and emergency conscription powers. The king even bestowed his personal sword, authorizing battlefield executions without appeal.

The March to Destiny

As dawn broke over Lantian Plateau, columns of Qin troops slipped away silently into the darkness, their departure masked by maintained campfires and routine sounds. Chancellor Wei Ran departed to oversee logistics from the old capital Qinyang, vowing: “Not one soldier will go hungry on my watch.” King Zhao, eschewing ceremony, simply told Bai Qi: “I shall greet you personally upon victory.”

This moment—when a young general, a dowager queen’s wisdom, and a nation’s resilience converged—marked the true beginning of Qin’s path to unification. The panic that had gripped Xianyang didn’t break Qin; it revealed the depth of its transformation from a marginal western state to a civilization capable of enduring crisis and forging empire.