Myth and folklore

Yao chooses Shun

A father-in-law’s trials, a deliberate retreat, and heaven’s will as the people’s choice: how abdication became a complete story.

Legendary ageAbout 3 min read
Interpretive illustration: Yao selecting Shun
Yao chooses Shun · Thematic illustration

A stubborn old problem

Yao was old. This chieftain, viewed by posterity as the ideal ruler, faced the question every holder of power must face: who receives my seat?

By the custom of the time it could go to his son Danzhu. But Yao’s assessment of Danzhu was blunt: “ obstinate and cruel — unusable.” He summoned the chieftains of the four quarters to deliberate, and their answer was strikingly unanimous: there is a commoner, unmarried, named Shun.

A short recommendation, a long examination

Shun’s situation was wretched: a foolish father, a harsh stepmother, an arrogant half-brother — a family that tried several times to kill him. They sent him to roof a granary and set fire beneath it; they sent him to dig a well and shoveled earth in on him. Twice Shun escaped by wit (off the granary he came down arms outstretched, two hats spread like wings), and after each escape went on honoring his parents and caring for his brother just as respectfully as before.

The gist of the chieftains’ recommendation: a man who can hold onto virtue inside such a family will not go bad at court.

He marries his two daughters to him

Yao’s approach was interesting: he did not hand over power at once. First he married his two daughters, Ehuang and Nüying, to Shun, to observe how he ran a household. Then he set Shun to teaching the five bonds of duty, to see whether the people followed. Then he sent him into mountains, forests, rivers and marshes to test him against danger — legend says Shun never lost his way in storm and thunder.

After several years of observation Yao reached his verdict: capable. He gave Shun a role in government and had him receive the lords of the four quarters.

How the seat was handed over

When Yao died, Shun mourned three years — then did the decisive thing: he avoided Yao’s son and went away south. The result: when the lords came to court the sovereign, they bypassed Danzhu and went to Shun; disputants brought their lawsuits to Shun; singers praised Shun, not Danzhu. “It is Heaven’s will,” said Shun — and only then did he formally take the throne.

The principle that the hearts of the people make the ruler was, in this story, first told in full. Whether Yao and Shun ever existed, archaeology cannot confirm; the Shiji account was written a thousand years later, reflecting later ideals of politics. But the ideal of handing the seat to the tested has influenced every year of Chinese history since.