After the fall of King You of Zhou’s kingdom, Marquis Shen once again pretended to rush to the rescue in a flurry. But with the king already gone, what was there to rescue? The solution was simple—there was a ready-made replacement, and thus it was King Ping of Zhou’s turn to ascend the throne.
Of course, things couldn’t be that straightforward; succession wasn’t so easily achieved.
At the time, King You of Zhou had a younger brother who also seized the opportunity to get involved. With the support of another faction of feudal lords, he managed to claim the title of Son of Heaven, becoming the historically known King Xie of Zhou.
Still, this wasn’t such a bad deal for King Ping. After being stripped of his crown prince status by his own father and expelled from the imperial capital, landing an emperor’s throne out of the blue was, by any measure, a stroke of incredible luck.
However, according to the inscriptions on this stone tablet, King Ping of Zhou, who had been driven out, was far from resigned to his fate.
He couldn’t understand why he and his mother had been deposed for no apparent reason, so he went to his maternal grandfather to complain.
At the same time, King Ping began to scheme. He first urged his grandfather to help him. After all, his grandfather doted on his mother, and as Marquis Shen’s only grandson, the marquis had little choice but to assist him.
Moreover, if King Ping became the ruler, Marquis Shen would stand to gain significant benefits. Thus, through a combination of emotional appeals and temptations of profit, they succeeded in their plan.
From this perspective, it’s clear that King Ping of Zhou was far from being merely a puppet emperor as history often portrays him.
The historical records seem somewhat watered down in this regard. King Ping was undoubtedly no simple figure, as further evidence from the inscriptions contradicts the mainstream historical accounts.
Why then is the label of “puppet emperor” applied to King Ping with such uncertainty? It’s likely that this was a protective facade of feigned weakness adopted by King Ping himself.
It’s important to note that when King Ping ascended the throne, he faced not only external threats and internal strife but also the heavy burden of the infamous reputation of having killed his father and usurped the throne—a stench that was nearly unbearable in his time.
Ahead of him, his uncle King Xie of Zhou led feudal lords to pressure him, while behind him, other states like Zheng, Wei, Jin, and the ambitious Qin watched like tigers eyeing their prey, eager to take a share.
Surrounding them were the Quanrong and various nomadic tribes, who frequently launched invasions. By all appearances, this was a hellishly difficult starting point.
Yet, in this brutal, hellish battleground, King Ping managed to rely on his own capabilities to eliminate his uncle King Xie of Zhou within twenty years of his reign and unify the power of the Zhou dynasty.
Over the fifty-one years from his enthronement to his death, he skillfully balanced the four major powers surrounding him like a master equilibrist.
Unfortunately, after King Ping’s death, the Zhou dynasty fragmented and was ultimately carved up by the feudal states.
This illustrates the cyclical nature of division and unity: long divided, they must unite; long united, they must divide. However, the mere fact that King Ping could rule for fifty-one years in such a perilous situation speaks volumes about his exceptional abilities.
Therefore, the historical depiction of him as a puppet king doesn’t quite align with reality. This entire stone tablet, whether carved by an ardent admirer or someone else, largely extols the prowess of King Ping of Zhou.
It also records that, before his death, King Ping managed to conceal his movements from the surrounding powerful states and secretly had himself transferred to this covertly constructed tomb for burial.
At that time, he pretended to be impoverished, claiming he had no money for a proper burial, playing the victim to divert others’ attention. No one saw through it back then, which shows just how adept King Ping of Zhou was at deception and how shrewd his mind was.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a more capable or stronger descendant; otherwise, the later conflicts of the Spring and Autumn period might have unfolded differently.
Since we’re talking about King Ping of Zhou, let’s briefly discuss the dire situation he faced at the time.
When King Ping of Zhou was preparing to move the capital east to Luoyi, he pondered how to safely reach Luoyi amidst the widespread threat of the Quanrong and other nomadic tribes.
Thus, King Ping’s brilliant maneuver came into play: he started making grand promises—truly extravagant ones—and the states of that era, following his lead, swallowed these illusory pledges.
King Ping declared that any state that ensured his safe arrival in Luoyi would be granted territories as rewards.
This strategy had two advantages: first, it compelled all the states to acknowledge the legitimacy of his kingship upfront, and second, it secured their diligent and unwavering assistance in escorting him safely to Luoyi.
The first to bite was the State of Zheng. As a newly established state with an unstable government and limited influence, Zheng was eager to seize this opportunity.
Moreover, its ruler was King Ping’s cousin, so naturally, this close relationship meant he had to secure a favorable territory for his kin.
Thus, King Ping ceded to Zheng the entire eastern region surrounding the future capital, Luoyi—essentially, the area guarding its eastern gate. In return, Zheng helped King Ping secure this strategic position.
Next was the State of Wei, which had an interesting background. It was the domain of Kang Shu, a founding minister of the Western Zhou, and was then the most powerful state.
King Ping couldn’t afford to cede too much land to Wei, but he still had to offer some incentive. So, he granted additional territories in the northeastern direction.
Although Wei already controlled much of the area northeast of Luoyi, this concession legitimized and expanded its holdings, providing just enough appeal.
Then came the State of Jin, located directly north of Luoyi and a legitimate fiefdom of the Ji clan. Dealing with Jin was straightforward: a modest land grant sufficed to secure its loyalty.
The most intriguing case was the State of Qin. Yes, that Qin—still a minor state at the time. Its ruler, Duke Xiang of Qin, voluntarily pledged allegiance to King Ping.
After all, Qin was a tiny state spanning less than fifty li in radius, hardly on King Ping’s list of priorities for recruitment.
But King Ping was in desperate need of allies and subordinates, so when Qin offered itself up, he readily accepted.
However, such an eager tool wasn’t as valued as one actively sought. King Ping’s reward to Qin was essentially an empty promise.
First, he elevated Qin from a vassal state to a full-fledged feudal state. Then, he declared that any territories in the Guanzhong region that Qin could reclaim on its own would belong to it.
Well, as for territory—sure, go conquer it yourself. If you succeed, it’s yours; if you fail, that’s your own problem and has nothing to do with King Ping of Zhou.
At this point, some might have noticed: the four states were all situated around Luoyi, encircling King Ping of Zhou tightly.
Apart from being somewhat limited in land area, this arrangement had no other drawbacks. In fact, it provided an overwhelming sense of security—surrounded on all sides by his own bodyguards. How satisfying!
But to avoid disaster—because otherwise, instead of safety, it would become a situation fraught with peril—King Ping of Zhou pondered day and night until he finally came up with a brilliant plan.
And so, this master of balance, King Ping of Zhou, took action again. He worried that the State of Wei at the time was too powerful. If it were to annex other smaller states, that would be disastrous.
After all, King Ping only wanted to hire bodyguards, not end up as the turtle trapped in a jar.
Thus, King Ping of Zhou began to secretly encourage the State of Zheng to annex nearby smaller states, allowing Zheng to grow stronger and eventually rival the State of Wei in power, thereby creating a balance between the two.
It must be said, King Ping of Zhou’s skill in maintaining equilibrium was truly first-class—even exceptional.
And indeed, he succeeded. In an environment surrounded by powerful states, not only did he manage to reign as king, but he also ruled steadily and securely for fifty-one years. This clearly shows that King Ping of Zhou had a sharp mind and was truly adept at strategizing.