A Kingdom Long Suppressed

The winter air in Yan crackled with restless energy. After decades of humiliation, the kingdom stood on the brink of vengeance. The unexpected alliance with Qin had electrified the court and commoners alike, sweeping away years of stifled resentment. King Zhao of Yan, alongside his trusted advisors—Yue Yi, Ju Xin, and others—quickly disseminated the news across the land. Within days, the cry “Avenge our blood! Crush the Tyrant Qi!” echoed from the Yan Mountains to the Liaodong Peninsula.

For too long, Yan had been a shadow of its former self. Once a proud northern bulwark alongside Qi during the Spring and Autumn period, it had withered into insignificance, barely holding its own against even the weakest states. To the south, Zhao’s ambitions loomed large; to the east, Qi’s arrogance was a constant torment. The kingdom’s decline had been so severe that when the famed strategist Su Qin first proposed the anti-Qin alliance (合纵), Yan’s brief resurgence flickered out like a dying star.

Qi’s betrayal during the coalition war against Qin was the final insult. Not only had Qi’s King Min executed Yan’s general Zhang Kui, but he had also callously sacrificed Yan’s infantry as a rearguard, leaving them to perish under the hooves of retreating armies. To add injury to indignity, Qi then forced Yan to cede its last strip of land along the Jishui River. The people of Yan swallowed their fury, but the embers of hatred never died.

The Spark of Retribution

The sudden news of a six-state alliance against Qi was a thunderclap. For the first time in generations, Yan dared to hope. The kingdom’s gratitude toward Qin was immense—unlike other powers, Qin had never bullied Yan. In fact, it had twice intermarried with Yan’s royal family, even sending a prince as a hostage during Yan’s darkest days. Now, without demanding land or wealth, Qin pledged 50,000 elite cavalry and siege engines for the coming war.

But the true architect of Yan’s revival was Yue Yi. A descendant of renowned generals, he had forsaken comfort in Wei to serve a ravaged Yan. As a mid-ranking minister (亚卿), he lived modestly, yet his reforms transformed the kingdom: abolishing serfdom, curbing noble privileges, opening trade, and incentivizing military service. Most crucially, he spent a decade in Liaodong, forging a new army of 200,000—Yan’s lifeline for revenge.

Unlike the treacherous minister Zi Zhi, who had once plunged Yan into chaos with a private army, Yue Yi won trust through transparency. He refused lavish titles, avoided holding the military tally (兵符), and invited royal oversight. When the people clamored for him to lead the campaign, he accepted only after King Zhao insisted.

The March to War

After solemn rites at Mount Yan, King Zhao bestowed full command upon Yue Yi, granting him the authority to mobilize the nation. The new generalissimo wasted no time—by nightfall, he was en route to Liaodong to prepare the troops. Meanwhile, Crown Prince Ji Lezi oversaw logistics, while Ju Xin managed domestic affairs.

Yan’s mobilization was a spectacle of unity. Peasants, merchants, and nobles alike threw themselves into the effort, their pent-up fury now a driving force. The kingdom’s dormant pride had reawakened, its people no longer the meek victims of Qi’s cruelty.

The Legacy of Resurgence

Yan’s story is more than a tale of revenge—it’s a lesson in resilience. A state long dismissed as a backwater proved that even the humblest could rise with shrewd leadership and unyielding will. Yue Yi’s reforms and integrity became legendary, a model for balancing military might with civic trust.

Modern parallels abound. Nations recovering from oppression, corporations rebounding from decline—all can draw inspiration from Yan’s phoenix-like ascent. The kingdom’s triumph reminds us that even the deepest wounds can fuel greatness, provided the spirit to fight remains unbroken.

Six centuries of history had weighed upon Yan, but in one defiant winter, it shook off the past and soared.