Palace intrigues are not for the faint of heart. Scheming, backstabbing, and double-dealing are all fair games. Being trusting is foolish. Being truthful is asking for trouble.
Although there is no shortage of such fine machinations in the past or present, one particular plot was so brazen yet so doomed from the beginning that it actually led to the first recorded uprising led by farmers in Chinese history.
***
Ying Zheng was famous for many things, and infamous for even more.
Born in 259 BC, he ascended to the throne and became the next king of Qin at the tender age of thirteen. Qin was one of the seven kingdoms during the turbulent Warring States Period. Thanks to the hard work of his forefathers, Qin was the strongest of the lot, and Ying Zheng had his sights on total domination. For the next twenty-six years, he and his advisors steadily marginalized and weakened the other kingdoms by means of cunning diplomacies and brutal forces.. The six sitting ducks knew their only chance of survival was to have a united front, but their alliances never lasted long. After all, when egos and self-interests were involved, no one wanted to play second fiddle.
One by one, the six kingdoms fell down like dominoes. In September, 221 BC, Qin’s army had a decisive, sweeping victory over Qi and eliminated the last kingdom standing. Triumphant and ambitious, Ying Zheng decided “wang” (meaning king) was no longer fitting for a man of his stature. He came up with a new title—”huangdi” (meaning emperor). From then on, he called himself Shi Huangdi, or the first emperor. All the dynastic rulers after him loved this grand title. None of them wanted to be called kings; emperors were the way to go!
With the country united, Ying Zheng sought to build a strong foundation for his empire so it would last for a long, long time. Up until that point, each region had its own unique writing style; keeping them as they were would severely undercut the effectiveness of communication. So Ying Zheng announced that henceforth everyone needed to adopt Qin’s script. The same went with him standardizing measurements. Making sure to keep the Huns, a nomadic people in the north, at bay, he sent hundreds of thousands of men to construct the Great Wall of China by repairing and connecting the existing defensive walls up north.
Ying Zheng’s policies carried profound cultural and societal impacts. His dynasty, unfortunately, crumbled in all but fifteen years (221 BC to 207 BC).
***
While touring his empire in 210 BC, Ying Zheng felt ill and died at one of his palaces in present-day Hebei province. Before he passed away, he left a will, bequeathing the throne to his eldest son, Fusu. That was bad news for Zhao Gao, the trusted advisor to the second son, Huhai. Determined to stay in power, he approached Li Si, whose role was akin to the modern-day prime minister. Zhao showed Li the will and went for the jugular, “No one has seen this document yet. It’s up to us to decide who’s to be the next emperor—Prince Fusu or Prince Huhai. What do you say?”
Li was horrified and protested that he was not going to commit treason.
Nonplussed, Zhao said, “If Prince Fusu is crowned, who do you think he would appoint as the next prime minister? It’s going to be General Meng Tian, and that man is no fan of yours! I have been Prince Huhai’s advisor for some years now, so I have firsthand knowledge of his temperament. I assure you: he will be a kind, generous ruler.” Sensing Li wavering, Zhao added, “Your future will only be secure and prosperous with Prince Huhai. Let’s work together for our mutual benefit.” With that, Li finally agreed.
The plot that Zhao and Li concocted was masterful.
First and foremost, they concealed the news from everyone so they could journey back to the capital, Xianyang, without incidents. The trek was long, almost 800 kilometers (500 miles). To de-risk people noticing foul smells, they arranged carts of salted fish to join the caravan. After they finally reached Xianyang, they announced the emperor had died, and presented to the royal court a falsified will with two directives:
One, it named Prince Huhai the successor.
Two, it accused Prince Fusu and General Meng Tien of many trumped-up charges and demanded their repentance by taking their own lives.
Right from the start, people suspected foul play but none dared to challenge Zhao and Li. So they accepted the will at its face value.
Viola, fait accompli!
***
Ying Zheng was brilliant and visionary; there’s no doubt about it. But he was also callous and ruthless. He enforced strict and barbaric punishments, such as facial tattooing and the amputation of body parts. Given this, it’s no surprise that the fate of those sentenced to death was even more horrific. As if harsh punishments were not bad enough, he also imposed heavy taxes to fund his various pet projects, ranging from walls and palaces to his mausoleum and its Terracotta Army. People were living in constant fear and misery, so when news spread of the well-liked, kind-hearted Prince Fusu being put to death, their despair reached a boiling point.
The new emperor, flanked by Zhao and Li, was oblivious to his people’s plight. He doled out harsher sentences, demanded higher taxes, and conscripted more men into servitude. He cared only for his pleasures, growing dissent be damned.
In the summer of 209 BC, two farmers, Chen Sheng and Wu Guang, along with 900 other fellow farmers were pressed into military service. According to the order, they must reach Yuyang (near present-day Beijing) by a certain date. Unfortunately, they were delayed by heavy rainfalls. Being executed for tardiness or being killed on the frontlines—these, they reckoned, were their two choices once they managed to reach Yuyang. If their lives were on the line anyway, why not risk them by putting an end to the Qin dynasty?
Possessing good pedigree was a powerful asset for rallying supporters. For those without it, aligning their cause with someone who had it could work wonders. Better still, invoking divine intervention from the Heavenly Almighty could not only silence skeptics but also transform them into faithful followers.
Chen and Wu knew exactly what to do.
They bought a fish and hid a cloth inside its stomach. When the fish was cut open, the two Qin soldiers responsible for marching these men to Yuyeng were surprised to discover the cloth and its message: King Chen Sheng.
Shortly after the fish trickery, Wu deliberately provoked and killed one of the Qin soldiers, while Chen took care of the other. With the guards dead, the two men immediately declared their intention: to rebel, citing their cause as a tribute to the benevolent Prince Fusu and a highly regarded general from the region. Despite starting with only 900 followers, they quickly garnered widespread support and achieved many victories against the once-formidable Qin army.
This first known farmers-led uprising in Chinese history fizzled out six months later. It fell apart because Chen became too egoistic, too power-hungry, and too distrustful. He had Wu assassinated, and in the end, he was assassinated by his carriage driver.
***
Chen and Wu’s revolt, while short-lived, triggered others to rebel. The country, once united, became fractured again.
For the time being, Huhai continued his decadent life unabated, leaving Zhao Gao in charge of everything. By now, Li Si had realized his grave mistake, but it was too late. He suffered a horrific death in the hands of his co-conspirator.
Zhao loved to demonstrate his total control over Huhai, making it clear to all that his authority was not to be challenged. One famous tale involved him presenting a deer to the emperor, declaring it to be a magnificent horse. Bewildered, Huhai remarked, “That’s a deer, not a horse.” Zhao dismissed his objection and, with a menacing tone, demanded of the others, “What do you think? Is this fine beast a deer or a horse?” Fearful of retribution, many fell in line and timidly agreed, “It’s a horse.” Those who insisted it was a deer effectively signed their own death warrants, and Zhao ensured they suffered greatly before their deaths.
Ambitious as he was, Zhao contemplated crowning himself but ultimately decided against it, knowing he might not be able to pull it off. So, he propped up Prince Ziying as the new ruler on October 1, 207 BC. Ironically, for someone so adept at scheming, Zhao failed to foresee that his days were numbered—literally and figuratively, because he was executed soon afterward.
On November 17, 207 BC, the Qin dynasty was no more. After a reign lasting merely forty-six days, Prince Ziying surrendered to Liu Bang, a rebel leader and the future emperor of the Han dynasty.
***
Conspiring, manufacturing fake news, and myth-making—all these and more have been an integral part of societies for millennia. They are not confined to the realm of royal courts; their tentacles reach everywhere, making escape nearly impossible.
The events surrounding Ying Zheng’s reign, the manipulation of his succession, and the subsequent farmer-led uprising reflect a timeless struggle between power and morality. Ying Zheng’s brilliance and ruthlessness, Zhao Gao’s cunning, and the abrupt, meteoric fate of Chen Sheng and Wu Guang illustrate how greed and deceit can bear devastating consequences. The downfall of the Qin dynasty stands as a testament to these destructive forces.
Lao Tzu (571 BC to 470 BC) and Zhuang Tzu (369 BC to 286 BC), two famous Chinese philosophers, implored us to follow the natural way of things. Live freely, simply, and authentically. Have humility. Their teachings predate every man mentioned in this story, yet it’s clear that none subscribed to their wisdom, not even a tiny bit.
Born nearly three decades after Lao Tzu in 545 BC, Sun Tzu was a highly decorated general and renowned military strategist. His book, The Art of War, has been celebrated as a masterpiece since its initial publication on bamboo slips. Drawing from his extensive experience, Sun Tzu distilled his insights into about 6,000 words, offering guidance on how to strategize and win. Translated into many languages thousands of years later, this concise volume has gained a cult-like following because its lessons can be applied not only on battlefields, but also to politics, business, and beyond.
The tale of the Qin dynasty reveals the ongoing tension between idealism and pragmatism, contentment and ambition. Then, now, and forever, we are driven by a strong desire to succeed. More often than not, success is defined by power and wealth. Thus, we favor those who are pragmatic and ambitious.
However, it is neither possible nor necessary to choose one camp over the other. We can balance both. How best to hone our ambition, curb our greed, and stay ahead in the rat race without losing our humility is a challenge we will grapple with throughout our lives. The story of Ying Zheng and the aftermath of his reign remind us that true success and a lasting legacy lie in mastering this delicate balance.