The Fragile Peace Under Yan Occupation

In the wake of Yan’s devastating conquest of Qi, the brilliant strategist Yue Yi implemented his famous “Five Pacification Decrees” to stabilize the occupied territory. Initially, these measures achieved remarkable success. Hundreds of Qi’s minor officials and scattered scholars emerged to serve the new Yan administration, while those who remained in retirement generally approved of Yue Yi’s governance. Commoners praised the policies, openly condemning the previous Qi regime with cries of “The Tian clan deserves death! The Tian Qi must perish!”

Remarkably, no ominous folk songs or prophecies circulated among the people—a telling absence in Qi’s traditionally outspoken culture. This silence suggested genuine acceptance, or at least lack of resentment, toward Yue Yi’s administration. The absence of resistance poetry, typically ubiquitous during dynastic transitions, indicated that Yue Yi’s conciliatory approach had effectively disarmed potential opposition.

The Turning Tide: Wang Zhu’s Martyrdom

The political landscape shifted dramatically when news of Wang Zhu’s defiant suicide spread secretly through Qi. This elderly scholar-official had chosen death over submission to Yan rule, becoming an instant symbol of Qi resistance. His martyrdom ignited smoldering patriotism among Qi’s remaining elite, who began gathering in hushed meetings, declaring: “If a commoner like Wang Zhu could display such righteousness by refusing to bow to Yan, how much more should we, who once enjoyed Qi’s emoluments, resist!”

A clandestine campaign of intimidation targeted Qi officials serving the Yan administration. Mysterious arrows and dagger-carved messages appeared in their studies, bedrooms, and even carriages, bearing threats: “Turn back now, or face execution as Qi traitors!” Many of these officials, who had only tentatively accepted Yan positions (some without even receiving Yan’s promised land grants), found themselves ostracized by their countrymen. The psychological pressure proved unbearable, prompting waves of resignations—some officials simply vanished without notice.

Yue Yi faced a dilemma: forcing these reluctant administrators to stay would undermine his strategy of winning over Qi through benevolent governance. With characteristic wisdom, he approved all resignations and even granted departing officials generous severance packages in King of Yan’s name. While this enhanced Yan’s reputation for magnanimity, it inadvertently strengthened Qi’s resistance movement, creating dangerous undercurrents in western Qi.

The Rise of a New Qi King

From the besieged city of Ju came startling news: General Diao Bo had rallied Qi loyalists to crown Prince Tian Fazhang as the new Qi king. Diao Bo, the city’s shrewd commander, understood that establishing a royal figurehead would transform their desperate resistance into a legitimate national restoration movement. A monarch meant a state, and a state could attract supporters and foreign allies.

Locating a surviving royal proved challenging after King Min’s brutal execution. After six months of fruitless searching, Diao Bo’s agents discovered an intriguing lead—a mysterious young gardener at Grand Historian Jiao’s estate bore striking resemblance to the late king. Investigation revealed this was none other than Tian Fazhang, King Min’s son, who had survived by posing as a refugee.

Grand Historian Jiao, the respected scholar whom King Min had once dismissed in favor of Wang Zhu, played a crucial role in convincing the reluctant prince. The historian’s daughter, Shi Ti, had secretly married the young royal, further cementing his connection to Qi’s cultural elite. Despite initial hesitation, Tian Fazhang eventually accepted his destiny, on one condition: “If I must become king, Shi Ti must be my queen.”

In a modest ceremony, Diao Bo enthroned Tian Fazhang as King Xiang of Qi. This symbolic act electrified Qi’s resistance. Former officials and nobles began slipping out of Linzi to join the new court in Ju, breathing life into the faltering anti-Yan movement.

Yue Yi’s Calculated Response

Faced with this development, Yue Yi remained characteristically composed. Unlike his subordinates who expected immediate assaults on Ju and Jimo, the Yan commander maintained his strategy of patient encirclement. He understood that Qi’s fractious nobility would likely turn Ju into a hotbed of infighting—Diao Bo, despite his military competence, lacked the stature to control these proud aristocrats. By avoiding direct confrontation, Yue Yi allowed internal tensions to weaken Qi’s resistance naturally.

His real concern focused on Jimo, where the remarkable Tian Dan had transformed desperate refugees into a formidable fighting force. This merchant-turned-general had miraculously solved countless logistical nightmares—from arming civilians to managing corpses during plague threats. Unlike the predictable Diao Bo, Tian Dan represented an unpredictable variable combining administrative genius with military talent.

As winter arrived, bringing its usual hardships for besieged cities, Yue Yi anticipated Jimo’s collapse from cold and hunger. However, scouts reported shocking news: Jimo’s defenders now wore warm winter uniforms, and the aroma of cooked meat filled the city. Clearly, secret supply lines had been established—but by whom?

The Geopolitical Chessboard

This development signaled a dangerous shift in the war’s international dimensions. During Qi’s initial collapse, major powers had remained passive observers, content to see the arrogant “Eastern Emperor” humbled. But as Yan’s occupation dragged on with no clear resolution, foreign calculations changed. The rise of organized resistance under legitimate Qi leadership made continued Yan control uncertain.

Yue Yi recognized the precariousness of his position. If Yan appeared unable to fully subdue Qi, other states might intervene—either to claim portions of Qi territory or to preserve a weakened Qi as buffer against Yan’s expansion. Particularly worrying was Qin’s enigmatic silence. Unlike other states, Qin had received no territorial concessions from Yan’s victory yet remained passive. This suggested the western powerhouse was carefully observing whether Yan could truly digest its massive conquest.

The Philosophical Divide

The ideological clash between Yue Yi and Qi’s resistance leaders crystallized in his correspondence with Tian Dan, delivered by the renowned philosopher-diplomat Lu Zhonglian. Tian’s eloquent reply acknowledged Yan’s grievances against Qi’s past aggression but argued that Qi’s cultural and institutional foundations remained strong despite King Min’s misrule. He pointed to Wang Zhu’s martyrdom, the Ju restoration, and resigning Yan-appointed officials as evidence of enduring Qi patriotism.

Lu Zhonglian expanded this argument during his meeting with Yue Yi, distinguishing between different social groups’ loyalties. While peasants burdened by heavy taxes might welcome Yan’s reforms, scholars, merchants, and artisans—the backbone of any state—remained committed to Qi’s survival. Should these elites implement reforms addressing popular grievances, peasant support could shift back to Qi.

Most pointedly, Lu warned about growing opposition to Yue Yi’s strategy within Yan’s own court and military. If King Zhao died and political winds shifted, Yue Yi might find himself isolated—a prophecy that would prove tragically accurate years later when the new King Hui indeed recalled Yue Yi and reversed his policies.

The Gathering Storm

As heavy snow blanketed the Yan encampments, Yue Yi pondered his narrowing options. Abandoning his patient strategy for direct assault might secure immediate victory but risked provoking foreign intervention. Maintaining his current approach allowed Qi resistance to consolidate while exposing him to domestic criticism. Yet the alternative—withdrawing after securing partial gains—would betray his vision of fully integrating Qi into Yan.

The snowstorm provided apt metaphor for Yue Yi’s predicament—what initially appeared as favorable conditions for besiegers (harsh winter weakening defenders) had transformed into renewed Qi strength through mysterious external support. Like the unpredictable coastal weather that turned snowfall into damp chill rather than crisp frost, Qi’s resistance proved more resilient than anticipated.

Ultimately, Yue Yi resolved to persist with his original strategy: gradual assimilation of occupied territories while containing the two resistance strongholds. This middle path, he hoped, would maintain enough ambiguity to deter foreign interference while steadily expanding Yan’s control. History would judge whether this cautious approach constituted wisdom or missed opportunity—a question still debated by strategists millennia later.

The stage was set for one of history’s most remarkable resistance movements, where a merchant-general and a refugee prince would defy overwhelming odds to restore their conquered kingdom—a testament to the enduring power of cultural identity and skilled leadership against military might.