In the twilight of the Shang dynasty, the land of China was gripped by the terror of King Zhou, a ruler whose appetite for luxury and cruelty knew no bounds. His court at Zhaoge was a place of opulence and horror, where the music was loud, the wines were sweet, and the screams of the innocent echoed through the corridors of his palace. Among those who suffered under his whim was Ji Chang, known posthumously as King Wen of Zhou. Ji Chang was a man of profound wisdom, a leader of the Zhou state who had long served the Shang as a vassal. He was respected by the people and feared by the tyrant for his moral clarity and the loyalty he commanded.
King Zhou, driven by a combination of jealousy and paranoia, sought to dismantle the influence of the Zhou. He recognized that Ji Chang was not merely a political rival but a spiritual anchor for those who wished for a more just world. The Shang king decided that the only way to truly conquer Ji Chang was to break his heart and destroy his dignity. He ordered the capture and imprisonment of Ji Chang, dragging the noble patriarch from his home to the dungeons of Zhaoge, where he was held in chains, isolated from his family and the light of the sun.
During his imprisonment, Ji Chang's spirit remained unbroken. He spent his days in meditation and study, his mind weaving a tapestry of strategy and hope. He knew that the Shang dynasty was rotting from within, eaten away by the greed and decadence of King Zhou. However, the tyrant noticed that despite the misery of the dungeons, Ji Chang did not plead for mercy nor did he show signs of despair. This frustrated King Zhou, who believed that every man had a breaking point—a moment where the horror of existence would outweigh the will to survive.
To execute his cruel experiment, King Zhou turned his attention to Ji Chang's children. He ordered the arrest of Bo Yikao, the eldest son of Ji Chang. Bo Yikao was a man of virtue and filial piety, a mirror of his father's wisdom. The Shang king saw in Bo Yikao the same spark of nobility that he hated in Ji Chang. In a move of calculated malice, King Zhou ordered Bo Yikao to be executed, but he did not want the death to be a simple end. He wanted the death to be a tool for the psychological torture of the father.
Under the cover of night, Bo Yikao was slaughtered. His body was not given a proper burial, for King Zhou intended to use the remains for a purpose that defied all laws of nature and morality. The royal cooks were commanded to take the flesh of the son and prepare it into meat pies. These pies were to be seasoned with the finest spices and cooked with care, masking the identity of the ingredients so that the meat appeared appetizing to the unsuspecting eye.
When the pies were brought to Ji Chang's cell, the tyrant stood by, watching with a predatory gaze. He wanted to see the moment the realization hit the prisoner. He wanted to see the horror, the disgust, and the ultimate collapse of the father's spirit. Ji Chang, sensing the darkness in the room and the cruelty in the air, suspected that something was terribly wrong. He had not heard from his son in days, and the arrival of a feast in a place of starvation was a clear sign of a trap.
As Ji Chang began to eat, he did most so with a face of absolute neutrality. He did not question the nature of the meat, nor did he show any curiosity about where the pies had come from. He understood that in the court of King Zhou, any sign of suspicion or grief was a vulnerability that the tyrant would exploit. To survive, and to ensure that his other sons, including the young Ji Fa, would live to lead the people, Ji Chang had to play the part of the ignorant prisoner. He feigned a hunger that was genuine in its physical need but calculated in its presentation. He ate the pies, his heart screaming in agony, while his face remained as still as a frozen lake.