Emperor Wen of Wei, Cao Pi, was a deeply suspicious man. After ascending the throne, he lived in constant fear of usurpation, guarding against everyone around him—especially his talented younger brother, Cao Zhi, who had been favored by their father, Cao Cao. Still seething with jealousy after their father's death, Cao Pi plotted to destroy his own brother.
One day, Emperor Cao Pi held court as his ministers bowed before him. Scanning the room, he noticed his brother, the Prince of Dong'e, Cao Zhi, seemed lost in thought. Suspicion crept into Cao Pi's mind, but he spoke aloud, praising Cao Zhi's skill in poetry and prose. He then announced a test: Cao Zhi must compose a poem within seven paces, or face severe punishment.
The loyal and honest Cao Zhi sensed the grave danger. In the grand hall, the emperor sat high on his throne, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent; the expressions of the assembled courtiers were complex—some gloated, some showed sympathy, others fawned with sycophantic smiles, and a few kept their eyes downcast. Composing a poem within seven paces was no easy feat. Cao Zhi grew anxious inwardly, but the imperial command was absolute, and Cao Pi was clearly out to humiliate him. Overcome with tension, Cao Zhi could not help but feel the pressure.
It was winter, and to keep warm, beanstalks were burning as firewood under a cauldron in the hall, letting the heat spread. Staring at the dancing flames, Cao Zhi’s eyes seemed to blaze with fury, his surging emotions churning within, and past bitterness turned into tears welling up. He let out a long sigh, staggered forward on his first step, and loudly recited, "The beanstalk burns to cook the beans—do you hear the beans weeping in the pot?" At this, Cao Zhi himself broke down, tears streaming, choked with words he could not utter. After a pause, he had taken three or four steps, and the crowd gasped, many sweating for him, while Emperor Cao Pi watched coldly from the side. Suddenly, Cao Zhi lifted his head, turned around, and fixed his gaze on Emperor Cao Pi, almost shouting, "Born from the same root—why must we torment and destroy each other so?" His seventh step landed just as the words ended. Source: *Records of the Three Kingdoms*, "Biography of Cao Zhi"
Upon hearing Cao Zhi's poem, Emperor Wen of Wei felt as if struck by a sudden blow, a wave of shame and guilt washing over him.
The idiom "Why the Urgent Persecution" originates from Cao Zhi's poem: "Beans are boiled by burning beanstalks, the beans weep in the pot; born of the same root, why the urgent persecution?" Later, this idiom is used to describe one brother's persecution of another.
Source: *A New Account of the Tales of the World*, Chapter "Literature"
Meaning of the Idiom: Later, the Chinese idiom "相煎何急" came to describe how one brother's persecution of another.