The Rise and Fall of a Southern Power

The news of the Central Plains alliance reached the state of Chu like a thunderclap, shaking the capital of Ying to its core.

King Wei of Chu found himself unable to sleep, pacing restlessly through his palace gardens. The autumn wind carried a chill, yet his body burned with unease. Over the decade since ascending the throne, his reign had been marked by paradox—expansion and contraction, glory and humiliation walking hand in hand. Four years prior, Chu had annihilated the state of Yue, finally realizing the centuries-old dream of Chu monarchs to dominate the lands south of the Huai and Yangtze rivers. This triumph earned him praise throughout the court as the ruler who “imposed majesty south of the Yangtze and revived Great Chu.”

Yet this victory was swiftly followed by devastating losses—the surrender of Fangling, catastrophic defeats at the Han River, and the humiliating relocation of the capital—the greatest disgrace Chu had suffered since its founding. King Wei often wondered whether his decade of rule had brought more gains or losses. Each time he searched his conscience, he felt he had failed his ancestors. The Mi clan had ruled for centuries, often enduring the scorn of the Central States. Establishing dominance over those northern powers had become Chu’s paramount state policy. Competing with the Central States was the ultimate measure of a Chu monarch’s success—far outweighing domestic missteps or harassment from Wu and Yue.

Now, though he had destroyed Yue, his failures against the Central States left him with more shame than honor. Worse still, the victory over Yue had not been Chu’s own strategy but the work of Zhang Yi and Tian Ji—two talents he had foolishly driven away in a fit of anger. Had he treated them with respect and kept them in Chu, their brilliance might have reversed the kingdom’s fortunes.

A sudden coughing fit seized him, leaving flecks of blood on his white handkerchief.

The Arrival of a Visionary

“Your Majesty, Left Sima Qu Yuan requests an audience.”

“Qu Yuan…” King Wei wheezed, settling onto a stone bench in the garden. “Admit him.”

Qu Yuan was no ordinary official. As a scion of the powerful Qu clan, his influence far exceeded his modest rank. The Chu court remained dominated by five great aristocratic families—Zhao, Qu, Jing, Huang, and Xiang—alongside the royal Mi clan. These lineages controlled most of Chu’s power and wealth, and their young scions wielded authority based on inherited lands and titles rather than official posts.

Qu Yuan was a rising star among them. Crowned with honors at his coming-of-age ceremony and granted a hundred-li fiefdom, he was renowned for his intellect, fiery passion, and popularity among the nobility. King Wei first met him years earlier, when the young Qu Yuan boldly declared that Chu must emulate Lord Shang’s reforms rather than Wu Qi’s half-measures. Impressed, the king had spent the entire night discussing statecraft with the prodigy.

Now, as Qu Yuan stood before him once more, King Wei wondered whether the young man’s early promise had faded.

A Nation at the Crossroads

Qu Yuan brought urgent news: Su Qin, the famed strategist, was leading an envoy of four states to Chu, seeking an alliance against the rising power of Qin.

King Wei dismissed it as mere diplomatic maneuvering, but Qu Yuan saw an opportunity. “For ten years, our attempts at reform have stalled because of Qin’s threats. If we join this alliance, we secure a decade of peace—time enough to rebuild and strengthen Chu.”

The king was intrigued but hesitant. “Do you truly believe this coalition can achieve such stability?”

Qu Yuan pressed further. “Chu remains fractured—our lands divided among noble families, our laws inconsistent, our armies disunited. Without sweeping reforms, how can we resist Qin or contend with the Central States? This alliance is our only chance!”

King Wei stood abruptly. “And the noble families? Should we not consult them?”

Qu Yuan’s response was firm. “Reform must uproot their privileges. Seeking their approval is like asking a tiger for its skin.”

The Court Debate

The next morning, Chu’s great hall buzzed with tension as ministers gathered to debate the alliance. Su Qin, representing the coalition, faced a barrage of skepticism.

Jing Heng, an elder statesman, questioned the benefits: “What does this alliance truly offer Chu?”

Su Qin’s reply was blunt. “Qin’s aggression has cost you Fangling, the Han River, and forced your capital to flee. Without unity, Qin will carve Chu apart like a butcher’s blade.”

The young general Zi Lan scoffed. “Defeats happen. Must you paint us as doomed?”

Su Qin countered, “A great nation that treats catastrophic losses as routine is already lost.”

The debate grew heated. Some, like the Xiang clan’s elder, argued for self-reliance: “Our clans can raise 300,000 troops! Why rely on outsiders?”

Su Qin dismantled the claim. “How long to train them? Where will you find horses, armor, grain? Qin spent twenty years building just 50,000 elite soldiers. Your 300,000 would be lambs to slaughter.”

The Turning Point

The decisive moment came when Prime Minister Zhao Ju, the most powerful aristocrat, attempted to quash all talk of reform. “Chu has already transformed under Wu Qi. Who dares suggest we need another upheaval?”

His thinly veiled threat silenced the room—until Su Qin struck back. “The Prime Minister speaks of loyalty while stifling debate. Is this how Chu honors its ancestors?”

The confrontation laid bare Chu’s internal divisions. King Wei, seizing the moment, made his decision: “Chu will join the alliance. Prince Huang Xie shall serve as our envoy, and Qu Yuan will oversee domestic preparations.”

Turning to Su Qin, he added, “Should this succeed, you shall be Chancellor of Chu.”

The Road Ahead

As the envoys departed Ying, word came of a sudden flood along the Wei River—an unnatural phenomenon in autumn. Some suspected sabotage, perhaps by Song or Qin agents seeking to delay their mission.

Su Qin remained undeterred. “We cross the Wei tomorrow. Delays only serve our enemies.”

The alliance now hinged on Chu’s commitment. Would this ancient kingdom, long torn between northern ambitions and southern pride, finally embrace the unity needed to survive the coming storm?

In the gardens of Ying, King Wei coughed again, the blood on his handkerchief a silent omen. Chu stood at a crossroads—one that would determine not only its fate but the balance of power in the Warring States era.