Chou is an extremely common surname in China, comparable in popularity to Western names like Smith, Johnson, or Williams. Even today, you'll find many celebrities with this surname, such as pop singer Jay Chou or the famous actor Yun-fat Chou. These people share a common ancestor named Duke Dan of Chou (Chou, Gong Dan). Chou was not only originally a surname, but a state—a state that countless Chinese people take pride in. Confucius, for instance, lived in the State of Chou. However, during my lifetime, he had not yet been born. Before Chou, no country called "China" existed in East Asia. After Chou, the central lands that inherited Chou's territory became known as China, while the peripheral regions became Korea, Vietnam, and Japan. Tracing their origins, they are all descendants of the Chou people who migrated from Chou Yuan (the plateau of Chou) in the northwest to the East Asian continent.
The history of the Chou people traces back to the Chinese Yellow Emperor (Huangdi), the founding ancestor of Chinese civilization. The Yellow Emperor's descendants established the earliest Huaxia state in the Yellow River basin, called the "State of Youxiong." After the Yellow Emperor's death, Youxiong split into two states: the "State of Youyu" in what is now Henan, and the "State of Youxia" in present-day Shanxi. Later, the State of Youxia unified the Yellow River basin and established China's first dynasty, the "Hsia Dynasty." Subsequently, a state called Shang emerged in the Yellow River and Huai River region. By uniting neighboring states, they defeated the Hsia and established China's second dynasty, the "Shang Dynasty." And then came the era of Chou (also called Zhou due to different romanization systems for Chinese characters).
The Chou State originally came from Chou Yuan (the plateau of Chou) in the northwest. This place lies in what is now China's northwestern plateau and desert, but during the Chou era, thanks to a warmer global climate, it was a lush land of rich pastures known as "Chou Yuan." The Chou people of Chou Yuan lived by farming, enjoyed animal husbandry, and found pleasure in hunting. As a tribe from the frontier regions, legend has it that their ancestor was the Dark Bird (Xuanniao) from the heavens, which could be understood as the Western phoenix. Unlike the Shang people, they did not worship dragons and didn't even have their own writing system. Then, when the Shang were fighting against "barbarian" tribes in the Yangtze River region to the south, the Chou allied with several other tribes, launched a surprise attack on the Shang capital, ultimately destroyed the Shang Dynasty, and established their own Chou dynasty.
The Chou people have always been reticent about this history, perhaps because their victory was not particularly honorable, or perhaps because they feared the same might happen to them. However, this defeat of the Shang is intricately connected to my ancestors. I am a Chin person, and my ancestor Zaofu was the Shang's invincible general. Yet, during the final battle against the Chou, he was returning from an eastern campaign with his army and missed the crucial battle. Perhaps like Napoleon's decisive battle, had he arrived in time, the Shang would have continued to prosper. And my ancestors would not have been forced to relocate from the fertile lands of the middle and lower Yellow River to the northwestern desert—or rather, to become the Chou people's firewall and barrier in the northwest. If one day the Chin could face the Chou in direct battle again rather than a surprise attack, would the Chou be able to prevail once more? I contemplated the Chou's prosperity and decline, but I never imagined this moment would come so slowly. About four hundred years later, the Chin nation finally spread throughout East Asia, including Korea and Vietnam, and even part of their eastern expedition fleet reached Japan. Later, the Romans called this country "Chin," which is today's "China." But this is something I could not have predicted at this moment. Moreover, at that time, the Chin people were nothing more than a minor tribe with little land and power."
"Dong, dong, dong"—the bronze drums echoed across palace, reminding me that this was a solemn Royal Banquet Ceremony (Yan Li), not suitable for idle thoughts from someone like me. I call myself an idler because I truly didn't want to leave home to attend such a formal ceremony, let alone prepare to attend the dreaded school. In this era without ChatGPT, studying was truly a miserable affair, especially learning those tedious rituals. Yes, they compiled ritual courses into thick textbooks called Chou Li, printed on bamboo slips. This was a unique Chou invention. They learned from the Shang's mistakes and ultimately designed a set of rituals for state lords, called "Chou Li." Of course, not everyone could easily learn these rituals; it seemed only nobles could master them. In other words, rituals were meant to constrain the behavior of nobles, not commoners, "barbarians," or slaves. For commoners who broke the law, there was another set of laws called "criminal law." For "barbarians," their law was the sword and force. As for slaves? They were spoils of war, only fit to be bought and sold.
But clearly, today's Royal Banquet Ceremony was discussing matters far from simple. More and more bronze instruments were being struck. These were chime bells (bian zhong), with different forms producing different tones. The more tones, the more solemn the ceremony. Today was evidently not a simple affair. At the court assembly, the aging King (Xuan) of Chou sat in the center. Standing in the first row were the Crown Prince and his brothers, the king's heirs. The second row consisted of the local Dukes, Marquises, and Earls, mostly of royal blood, enfeoffed to various regions. The third row was filled with nobles, mostly the king's in-laws or meritorious officials. The fourth row held lower-ranking nobles, including my father, the leader of the Chin people and the general of Chou dynasty, Baron Chin Zhong. And I, Chin Qi, son of the Chin leader, stood at the absolute back.
King Xuan of Chou said: "Now that the Jiang Rong (the barbarian tribes of Jiang lineage) refuse to pay tribute, what should be done?" What, the Jiang Rong again? I sneered inwardly. barbarian tribes or not, it was merely the king's definition. Tracing back their ancestry, they shared common ancestors with the Chou, Shang, and Chin people, and were even distant relatives of the states of Qi and Shen. Yet because of King Chou's single statement that "the Jiang barbarian tribes are like wolves, insatiable," they were driven to the westernmost part of the empire. Since then, the Jiang people have harbored a deep hatred for the Chou and frequently raided their lands. The Chou then used us, the Chin people, as shields, making us fight against the Jiang. Now, the Chou king covets the Jiang people's western lands and wants to subdue them. But his excuse is laughable. Tribute? When have the Jiang ever paid tribute to the Chou!
"Your Majesty, please reconsider," a noble stepped forward. "The Jiang Rong (Rong means barbarian tribes) are distant relatives of the Chou people and should not be rashly attacked." A senior noble slowly rose from the first row. I didn't recognize who he was, but since he stood in the first row, he must be a Duke of the same surname as the King's royal family. However, speaking up at this moment showed a true lack of understanding. To openly oppose the Chou king in court represented a form of dissent. Moreover, at the Royal Banquet Ceremony, which was merely a formality to inform the vassal states, the actual discussions had been settled long before the ceremony. For this royal Duke to oppose at this time was truly unwise.
For a moment, the court fell silent. After a long while, Duke of Fan, Zhong ShanFu, stepped forward and said, "Duke of Lu, you come from your eastern fief—do you know how many people in Lu need to be fed? Do you know how many people in Chou Yuan are waiting to be fed? The year before last, we campaigned against the State of Xu; last year, we subdued the State of Chu; and Chou Yuan has suffered three consecutive years of severe drought. If we do not take the fertile lands of Taiyuan in the west from Jiang, how will we feed our people and relieve their hunger?" With a sweep of his sleeve, he added, "The Duke of Lu has defied and scorned the king's command—he should be executed." His bearing was magnificent, his words stirring. In the State of Chou, there were few nobles as forthright and imposing as Duke Fan Zhong Shan Fu. And the one who had just spoken must have been Duke Ji Ao of Lu. But why would Duke Lu risk such a grave offense by opposing the Chou king?
"Duke of Qi, you are of the Jiang surname and distant relatives of Jiang. What do you think?" King Xuan of Chou spoke, passing the difficult question to the Duke of Qi. This was understandable — Qi and Lu were neighbors, both located in the easternmost part of the empire, the wealthy coastal states. However, unlike the Ji surname of the Chou royal house and Lu, Qi was of the Jiang surname, in-laws to the Chou royal house and of the same clan as the Jiang Rong. Now that they were planning to attack the Duke of Qi's kinsmen, the Jiang Rong, it was natural to consult the Duke of Qi.
"I believe those who do not obey the king's command should be punished. But the King as the Son of Heaven is noble and should not act rashly," said the Duke of Qi. What a shrewd old fox—he both made his position clear and passed the decision back to the king. It was truly a fine performance. King Xuan of Chou said, "What my beloved ministers say is most reasonable. Let's put this matter aside for now. Today we have more important matters to discuss—the education of the princes." Since someone had publicly opposed him, the king surprisingly did not show anger but instead shifted the topic to the princes' education. This matter wasn't actually urgent; the king seemed to be intentionally avoiding the Jiang Rong issue.
He gently struck the bronze wine vessel (fou) three times. Taking a sip of wine, he said, "Let all the princes step forward so I can see your faces." It seemed it was finally my turn. All the princes stepped forward—they were the heirs of the Chou king and various nobles. Everyone bowed deeply, each holding a jade object called a gui. The jade gui was a ritual object that expressed one's social status. Holding the jade gui, they kowtowed three times to show respect to the king. Naturally, the jade gui held by the king's descendants in the first row were the purest, most noble, and impressive, while I was only fit to wear a yellow jade from the local mountains. After the ritual, we straightened up to look at the king. The king's gaze swept across, looking at the first row—his sons Ji Gonghan and Ji Yuchen—but lingered a moment on Ji Yuchen. Then he looked at Duke Lu and Duke Qi, as well as their children. Finally, he looked at the other royal ministers. As for me, he probably wouldn't even glance my way.
"Criminal law does not apply to nobles but commoners, and rituals do not extend to commoners but nobles. The Chou Li, the rituals established by the first King of Chou, are the foundation that has sustained our great Chou Dynasty for three hundred years. Your fathers once studied the Chou Li in the ancestral Chou, and now they have brought you here to continue learning these rituals, to make you understand the code of conduct for ministers and officials." At this point, he glanced at Zhong Shan Fu and continued, "The jade gui is a ritual object, the embodiment of ritual. Holding the gui, understanding ritual—only then can you civilize the king's land. Do you remember this?" All the princes and ministers kowtowed and shouted, "Long live the king!" The autumn wind of Chou Yuan blew through our robes, making the jade objects in our hands glisten in the sunlight, reflecting a hint of desolation and antiquity.
King Xuan of Chou took a deep breath and slowly said, "The ritual is complete. Let the feast begin."