A Wise Son in the Warring States

On my first day as the fourteen-year-old, not-too-bright young lord, I heard the news that Zhi Bo had suffered a crushing defeat at Jinyang.

I looked around at the three old servants by my side. We had fewer than a hundred battered soldiers, and the granary was nearly empty.

With the allied forces of Zhao, Wei, and Han eyeing us hungrily, everyone urged me to pack up and run for my life.

Instead, I burned the ferry and beat the war drums. “The Zhi clan hasn’t been wiped out yet.”

“Our fief of five hundred households may be small, but when we go to our deaths, it’ll be enough to take a few important men down with us.”