A Tale of Betrayal, Greed, and Utter Incompetence
On October 28, 1681, in a grand yet utterly tragic finale, the so-called “Emperor of the Great Zhou,” Wu Shifan, took his own life in Kunming. His empress followed suit. The next day, their commanders swung open the city gates and surrendered to the Qing army, marking the end of the Revolt of the Three Feudatories—a rebellion that had raged for eight long years and devastated vast swathes of southern China.
This was not just any rebellion. It was the last great feudal uprising in China’s history, spanning twelve provinces and nearly toppling the newly established Qing dynasty. At its peak, the rebels had the momentum, the manpower, and the perfect excuse: restoring the fallen Ming dynasty. But somehow, they still managed to lose.
What went wrong? Well, let’s just say that the rebellion was less of a well-oiled war machine and more of a spectacularly chaotic mess.
How the Qing Dug Their Own Grave (and Then Climbed Back Out of It)
The Qing dynasty, still fresh from conquering China, found itself in an awkward position. Its army, the famous Eight Banners, was powerful but relatively small. To make up for this, the Qing rulers decided to recruit former Ming generals, giving them vast amounts of land, armies, and near-total control over southern China.
The three most powerful of these generals were:
- Wu Sangui – The man who betrayed the Ming, let the Qing in through the Great Wall, and then helped wipe out the last Ming prince.
- Shang Kexi – A career opportunist who ruled Guangdong like his personal kingdom.
- Geng Jingzhong – The weakest of the three, but still powerful enough to command armies in Fujian.
The Qing thought this was a smart move—until they realized they had essentially created three mini-empires within their empire. These three warlords controlled taxes, armies, and even government appointments. By 1660, over half of the Qing’s annual budget was going straight into their pockets.
This, obviously, was a problem.
So in 1673, when Shang Kexi asked for retirement, Emperor Kangxi saw an opportunity. He ordered all three feudatories to disband their armies and return to Beijing.
The warlords saw this for what it was: a death sentence. So they did what warlords do best—they rebelled.
Wu Sangui’s Grand Delusion
Wu Sangui was the mastermind of the rebellion, but let’s be honest—his plan was terrible.
Instead of striking hard and fast at the Qing heartlands, Wu Sangui sat around in southern China for five years, letting the Qing regroup. When his generals suggested restoring the Ming dynasty (which might have given them more legitimacy), Wu flat-out refused. Why?
Because he was the guy who personally strangled the last Ming emperor to death. He knew nobody would buy his “loyal Ming general” act.
So instead, in 1678, at the ripe age of 67, he did something utterly ridiculous—he declared himself emperor of a brand-new dynasty, the “Great Zhou.” His grand imperial court? A hastily repainted local government building. His royal robes? Theatrical costumes borrowed from an opera troupe.
It was all downhill from there.
Wu Sangui died of illness just five months after proclaiming himself emperor, leaving his clueless teenage grandson, Wu Shifan, to pick up the pieces. He didn’t.
Within three years, the rebellion collapsed, and the Qing marched into Kunming.
The Aftermath: What Did We Learn?
The Revolt of the Three Feudatories could have been one of the greatest what-ifs in Chinese history. The Qing were still fragile, and a smarter rebellion might have ended them before they truly solidified their rule. But instead, the rebellion was doomed by:
- A lack of unity – Wu Sangui, Geng Jingzhong, and Shang Zhixin (Shang Kexi’s son) never truly trusted each other.
- Poor strategic decisions – Instead of pushing into Qing territory, the rebels wasted time defending southern China.
- Wu Sangui’s massive ego – The guy really thought he could start a new dynasty, despite being the most hated man in the empire.
In the end, the Qing crushed the rebellion and learned their lesson. They never allowed feudal warlords to rise again, and they even started dismantling the native chieftain system in the southwest, replacing it with direct imperial rule.
As for Wu Sangui? Today, he is remembered as China’s ultimate traitor—the man who betrayed the Ming, served the Qing, and then turned against them too.
Not exactly a legacy to be proud of.