A long, long time ago, there was a prince on the run. Born in 671 BC, Chong’er had a rough upbringing. His stepmother, driven by her ambition to see her own son ascend to the throne, launched a bloody purge to eliminate any competition. Consequently, Chong’er spent the next 19 years in exile, moving from one kingdom to another. At that time, China was a fractured land with over a hundred small kingdoms vying for dominance. This chaotic and turbulent era, known as the Spring and Autumn Period, lasted 289 years from 770 BC to 481 BC.
Legend has it that during his exile, Chong’er nearly died of starvation. Jie Zhitui, a nobleman in his entourage, performed an extraordinary act of sacrifice by slicing flesh from his own thigh to make a hearty meat stew for the starving prince. Deeply moved by Jie’s selflessness, Chong’er vowed to be a benevolent ruler once he reclaimed his throne.
In 636 BC, Chong’er finally got his chance. With support from the Kingdom of Qin, he made a triumphant return to his homeland and ascended the throne. In his exuberance, he rewarded his loyal supporters generously but, regrettably, he forgot about Jie. By the time he remembered, Jie had long left the capital to live a quiet, secluded life in Mianshan (Mian Mountain) with his mother.
Chong’er sent his men to search Mianshan, but they found no trace of Jie. One advisor suggested setting fire to three sides of the mountain to “smoke out” Jie and his mother. Astonishingly, Chong’er agreed. As he waited eagerly at the foot of the mountain, he watched the flames engulf the entire area, but no one emerged. Days later, when the fire finally subsided, Chong’er discovered the bodies of Jie and his mother under a willow tree.
Stricken with guilt, Chong’er established the Hanshi Festival on the one hundred and fifth day after the winter solstice. He forbade the use of fire on that day. No fire means no hot food—in fact, the phrase “hanshi” means cold food or 寒食 in Chinese. That’s why the Hanshi Festival is also called the Cold Food Festival. This annual observance serves as a somber reminder of Jie’s sacrifice and the tragic consequences of Chong’er’s actions.
***
Chong’er, Jie Zhitui, and the Kingdoms of Jin and Qin all existed in history. Even the evil stepmother was real. Despite how foolish Chong’er might seem in this legendary tale, he was actually a remarkable ruler. He implemented a series of military and economic reforms that elevated the Kingdom of Jin to a position of preeminence.
The hearty meat stew and the fire, however, are most likely to be untrue.
Many pieces of ancient Chinese literature carry dramatic tales similar to the origin of the Hanshi Festival. I believe these stories aimed to instill two moralistic messages in their readers: righteousness and virtue.
Jie performed a righteous act by preparing the hearty meat stew using flesh from his own thigh. His self-sacrifice saved Chong’er’s life during what was presumably the prince’s darkest hour. Without Jie’s intervention, evil might have prevailed.
Furthermore, Jie exemplified virtuous values by rejecting power and material wealth. His steadfast refusal to leave Mianshan demonstrated that his intent as Chong’er’s faithful companion during exile was always for the betterment of the Kingdom of Jin. Content with seeing Chong’er restored to the throne, Jie decamped from the capital with his mother and chose to live out their remaining years in seclusion at Mianshan.
***
If the origin of the Hanshi Festival has nothing to do with Chong’er and Jie, then what is the true story behind this festivity?
Unfortunately, there’s no definitive answer. Some scholars argue that this tradition dates back to the Western Zhou Dynasty (1046 BC to 771 BC) as a way to bestow reverence upon Antares, the brightest red-colored star in the constellation Scorpius. Others insist that the practice is related to the custom of switching to a different type of firewood from winter to spring.
Today, the Hanshi Festival is still observed, albeit in a low-key manner, alongside the Qingming Festival. These two holidays are just a few days apart, and culturally speaking, the latter holds much more significance. On the day of the Qingming Festival, Chinese people are expected to pay respect to their ancestors by visiting and tidying up their graves. In Taiwan, where I grew up, we sweep graves and eat lumpia, a type of unfried spring rolls. This crepe-like dish is the only surviving link to the Hanshi Festival.
History is not just about grand events and figures, but also about personal sacrifices and virtuous values that shape our cultural heritage. The actual tale of Chong’er and Jie Zhitui might not have been as dramatic; nevertheless, through stories like this, we learn the importance of loyalty, selflessness, and remembrance. These are timeless lessons in humanity’s pursuit of righteousness and virtue, reminding us of the profound impact one person’s actions can have on both history and traditions.