The Rebellion Was Almost Won, and Now You Say You’re Giving Up?

The protagonist wakes up to find himself the son of the Son of Heaven of Zhou. He thinks he’s off to a great start: all beneath heaven belongs to the king, and all who dwell within its borders are his subjects. Once the Son of Heaven dies, he’ll inherit the throne outright. But when he opens the map, he finds dozens of states, large and small, and is instantly dumbfounded. The map clearly shows that, damn it, he has only five cities and a commoner population of just 320,000. Worse still, a neighbor is eyeing him covetously. None other than the famous Zheng Zhuang Duke of Zheng, the man who shot the Son of Heaven of Zhou with an arrow. Sure enough, the protagonist has barely transmigrated when his state is threatened with annihilation. His father, the Son of Heaven of Zhou, is shot dead by Zheng Zhuang Duke and falls from power. The protagonist inherits the throne in a moment of crisis. Facing the surging army of Zheng, he’s ready to surrender and has already written his abdication edict. From now on, the Zhou Dynasty will become the Zheng Dynasty. But halfway through the battle, the other side simply stops fighting. What kind of joke is this? I was ready to surrender, and now you’re just calling off the fight? He checks a history textbook and realizes that, ah, it’s still the Spring and Autumn period. You only want me to acknowledge your status as hegemon, not rebel against the throne at all. Since you insist on observing Zhou rites even when waging war, don’t blame me for playing the obedient grandson.