The most ruthless are those in the imperial family.

     I once thought the ruthlessness of emperors was the tearful gaze of Wang Zhaojun as she looked back at Chang'an before leaving for the border, sacrificing her youth for peace in the land; I once thought the ruthlessness of emperors was the bloodshed at the Xuanwu Gate Incident, where fratricide led to the prosperous Zhenguan era. However, the ruthlessness of emperors can be interpreted on a deeper level: it is a struggle between emotion and reason, a choice between public and private interests, a profound loneliness and heart-wrenching desolation. —Epigraph

    During the Spring and Autumn Period, King Helü of Wu deeply loved his daughter, Shengyu. At a palace banquet, the cook served steamed fish. King Helü ate half and gave the rest to Shengyu. Shengyu, enraged by the leftover fish, said to him, "Father, you insult me ​​with leftover fish; what meaning is there in my life?" With that, she left the banquet and committed suicide.

    This extremely short story is only briefly mentioned in the *Romance of the Eastern Zhou Kingdoms*. I read it repeatedly, yet I couldn't understand it: It was merely receiving leftover fish as a reward; it was one thing for Sheng Yu to feel uncomfortable, but why would she commit suicide?

    Perhaps it was because "leftover fish" sounds like "Sheng Yu" in Chinese, and Sheng Yu thought the King of Wu was mocking her name? Or perhaps, Sheng Yu simply felt that the King of Wu's reward of leftover fish was a sign of contempt and insult? Regardless, as a princess showered with favor, Sheng Yu was spoiled from childhood and severely lacked resilience training, which led to her psychological defenses completely collapsing at the mere thought of half a leftover fish.

    After Sheng Yu's death, the King of Wu was heartbroken and gave her a grand funeral.

    Sheng Yu's death is undeniably regrettable and lamentable! And the King of Wu, another important character in the story, is pitiful and tragic!

    Did the King of Wu really intend to mock his daughter? Certainly not. Sheng Yu was originally a daughter whom the King of Wu greatly loved; moreover, without any reason, the King of Wu had no motive to embarrass any of his children at the banquet. Even assuming, hypothetically, that King Wu did realize the homonym of "leftover fish" (剩鱼) as "victorious jade" (胜玉), the act of giving her the leftover fish was merely a joke between father and daughter. However, Sheng Yu died without understanding why her father would give her leftover fish.

    Let's imagine another scenario: if the same story happened in an ordinary family, a father would eat an exceptionally delicious fish, and remembering that his daughter hadn't yet tasted it, he wouldn't finish it all, leaving half for her. Similar stories likely play out in thousands of ordinary families every day. A father leaving part of the good food for his child is not an insult or contempt, but rather reflects the deep bond of kinship and the profound love of a parent. However, the same story, occurring in the Wu royal palace, caused embarrassment, tragedy, and left King Wu with a lifetime of regret and pain.

    Despite possessing a wealthy kingdom, a harem of beauties, and countless treasures in his treasury, King Wu may have realized after this incident that he was merely a "poor man" living in a vast golden palace; no amount of material wealth could compensate for the desolation of his emotional world. He was the most honored father in the world, yet he couldn't love his child in the simplest, purest way. His momentary outburst of emotion was merely an instinctive expression of paternal love, which his daughter couldn't comprehend.

    Sheng Yu's anger wasn't entirely baseless or unreasonable. Imagine, in the magnificent banquet hall, the King of Wu's reward was respectfully presented to Sheng Yu according to protocol, only to find leftover fish that had already been eaten when the brocade box was opened—it certainly clashed with the lavish backdrop of the banquet and Sheng Yu's noble status. Such an abrupt turn of events inevitably led to awkward silences. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, how much composure and self-control would it take to remain calm?

    The vast palace created distance, causing feelings to gradually fade; the rigid hierarchy hindered communication, leading to a multitude of misunderstandings; the elaborate rituals neglected human relationships, causing connections to grow increasingly distant. Excessive material comforts numbed the mind and needs of the emotional world. A half-eaten fish in the palace was merely a dirty scrap; no one would see the heavy weight of paternal love embodied within it.

    There is another story. During

    the Chu-Han Contention, Liu Bang was defeated at Pengcheng and fled in disarray. Seeing the pursuers closing in, to lighten the load on his carriage and speed up the journey, Liu Bang cruelly pushed his two children off the chariot. His general Xiahou Ying desperately tried to save the two children, but Liu Bang angrily said, "We are in dire straits; are you going to abandon your empire for two children?"

    Even tigers don't eat their cubs, let alone humans! On one side were his father and brothers who had risked their lives to follow him in his campaigns; on the other were his own flesh and blood. How much pain and helplessness must Liu Bang have felt in that moment when he cruelly pushed his children off the chariot? From the uprising against the serpent to being enfeoffed as the King of Han, Liu Bang knew how many people had helped him along the way. He carried not only his own destiny on his shoulders, but also the hopes of countless strategists and generals for achieving merit and being granted land. Faced with the greater good, personal feelings must be set aside.

    The two stories, seemingly unrelated, are remarkably similar. The King of Wu originally possessed "affection," but within the imperial family, his "affection" became a fatal mistake; Liu Bang, seemingly devoid of "affection," was actually forced into this situation by the pressure of his imperial ambitions.

    The imperial family is often the most ruthless; sometimes, emperors and generals are not ruthless, but simply powerless!