The Historical Backdrop: A Prince in Peril

The story unfolds during the Warring States period (475–221 BCE), a time of relentless conflict among seven major Chinese states vying for supremacy. Against this backdrop, Prince Ying Yiren (later King Zhuangxiang of Qin) finds himself trapped as a political hostage in the rival state of Zhao—a common diplomatic practice where noble sons were exchanged as collateral for treaties.

Yiren’s predicament mirrors the era’s brutal power dynamics. His grandfather, King Zhaoxiang of Qin, had reluctantly sent him to Handan (Zhao’s capital) years earlier to secure a fragile alliance. When relations soured after the bloody Battle of Changping (260 BCE), where Qin slaughtered 400,000 Zhao soldiers, Yiren’s status shifted from honored guest to despised prisoner. Stripped of comforts and isolated in a mountain cave, he clung to one cultural lifeline: the melancholic strains of the qin zheng (秦筝), a 10-stringed zither symbolizing his homeland.

The Turning Point: A Phantom Melody in the Poplar Grove

The narrative pivots during Bailu (White Dew, 13th solar term), when merchant-turned-kingmaker Lü Buwei returns to Handan after securing political support in Qin. He discovers Yiren—once a determined scholar—now listless and haunted. The reason? A mysterious zither melody echoing through moonlit poplar groves.

Yiren recognizes the instrument instantly: a rare 10-string Meng-family zither crafted from Nanshan redwood, its timbre distinct from common 9-string variants. This was no ordinary zither—it had been gifted by his childhood friend Meng Wu, son of General Meng Ao, during their shared studies in Qin’s capital Xianyang. The music triggers visceral memories of their youth:

> “Five watches sounded on the city towers as I lingered, drenched in autumn dew, until reluctantly leaving the grove. That zither was my boyhood dream—the deepest imprint left by my homeland.”

Yet the player remains elusive. By day, the grove reveals only ruins; by night, the music resumes as if summoning Yiren into a liminal space between memory and reality. His obsession strains relationships with mentors Mao Gong and Xue Gong, who fear his political focus is unraveling.

Cultural Resonance: The Zither as Political Allegory

The zither (zheng) serves as a potent metaphor throughout Chinese history. Confucius included it among the Six Arts essential for cultivation, while military strategists like Sun Tzu used its harmonies to explain battlefield coordination. For Yiren, the instrument embodies three layers of meaning:

1. Identity Anchor: In exile, the zither’s “vast, waterfall-like resonance” connects him to Qin’s cultural essence.
2. Diplomatic Weapon: His public performances of Qin folk songs (“North Slope Has Mulberries”) subtly assert cultural legitimacy, impressing Zhao’s intelligentsia.
3. Supernatural Bridge: The phantom zither blurs boundaries between reality and the afterlife—perhaps the spirit of Meng Wu, or a Zhao spy manipulating his nostalgia.

Lü Buwei, ever the pragmatist, suspects a trap: “Zhao’s Lord Pingyuan feeds you like a fattened pig before slaughter,” warns Mao Gong. The zither’s reappearance coincides with critical negotiations for Yiren’s return—a psychological gambit to destabilize Qin’s heir-apparent.

Legacy and Modern Echoes

Yiren’s eventual escape (orchestrated by Lü Buwei) and rise as King Zhuangxiang cemented Qin’s unification path. Yet this episode reveals deeper truths:

– Cultural Soft Power: Even in antiquity, music and nostalgia were wielded as geopolitical tools.
– The Hostage’s Paradox: Diplomatic pawns like Yiren lived suspended between identities—a theme resonating in modern diaspora experiences.
– Historical Irony: The Meng zither, meant to comfort Yiren, nearly became his undoing. Its fate mirrors China’s recurring tension between cultural preservation and political survival.

Today, the tale endures in operas and literature as a reminder: in diplomacy as in music, what’s heard often conceals more than it reveals. The qin zheng’s strings still hum across millennia—not just as artifacts, but as echoes of exile’s eternal ache.


[1] Jùqū: Lake Tai’s ancient name, renowned for premium vegetables.
[2] Húsuī: Coriander, introduced via Silk Road cultural exchange—a culinary metaphor for Qin-Zhao tensions.