HCT – Chapter 1 Goat Milk and Rice Porridge

“Dates are picked in August, and rice is harvested in October.”

In the traditional calendar, by the time the eighth month arrived, the worst of the autumn heat had passed. The streets of Handan were no longer filled with bare-chested young warriors strolling about, and many girls along the roads sighed in disappointment.

Zhu Xiang, too, had donned a thin linen robe to keep the wind at bay. He sat on the stone steps, watching his friend Lin Zhi climb the jujube tree in his courtyard to pick dates.

Jujube trees were notorious for flowering abundantly but bearing few fruits. Most trees would be covered in blooms, yet by August only a sparse few fruits would remain.

But Zhu Xiang’s tree was different.

When it flowered, the blossoms were few and scattered. Neighbors had laughed, saying the tree would hardly yield any dates. But come fruiting season, the tree was so full of fruit that it drew a crowd of onlookers. Some even thought it a sign of divine favor and wanted to take a fruit as a token.

Zhu Xiang’s friend Lin Zhi had also come to “snatch” some dates.

Lin Zhi tucked the hem of his robe into his belt and sprang up the tree like a monkey. The long sash at his waist swung with each movement, making Zhu Xiang’s eyelids twitch.

People didn’t wear underwear in this era. Beneath the long robes, a breeze meant a chilly bottom. Their trousers were held up by a single strap tied to the waist, resembling modern garter belts.

Pants that fully covered the lower half of the body were called hufu, introduced by King Wuling of Zhao, the current king’s grandfather. If someone wore full-length pants, it meant they were about to ride a horse.

Lin Zhi wasn’t riding a horse—just climbing trees—so of course things were breezy underneath.

Zhu Xiang covered his forehead and muttered, “How can I convince him to wear some underwear?”

Xue, calmly sewing shoe soles nearby, glanced at Lin Zhi—who was already high up in the tree, picking more than he ate—and said, “Everyone dresses this way. My good man, it’s strange for you to mind it.”

Zhu Xiang glanced at the women in the courtyard waiting to catch falling dates. Everyone looked calm. He was the only one feeling uncomfortable.

Fine, he admitted. He was the odd one out in this era. But he still wanted Lin Zhi to put on some damn underwear.

“If squatting indecently is frowned upon, then exposing yourself like that should be too,” Zhu Xiang argued. “Underwear keeps you warm—he might freeze his… cough. I just don’t understand why he’s so dead set against wearing any.”

He could ignore the others, but this guy was always coming over and scurrying around like a monkey with his robe tucked up. Zhu Xiang’s eyes were in pain!

Xue, eyes lowered to her sewing, replied, “Probably because it’s inconvenient for using the toilet? Last time, Master Lin complained to me that the short pants fell into the filth while he squatted. He couldn’t understand why you love such troublesome garments.”

Zhu Xiang held his forehead again. Lin Zhi, why are you complaining about toilet issues to my wife? Don’t you feel ashamed?! Am I the only one here with a sense of shame?

Zhu Xiang felt once again just how out of place he was in this world.

Don’t be fooled—though Lin Zhi looked like a scoundrel picking dates bare-bottomed, he actually held an official post and was Zhu Xiang’s “master.”

When Zhu Xiang’s parents died, he fell seriously ill. His older sister Chunhua ran off with all the valuables under the pretense of fetching medicine, supposedly seduced by the promise of luxury from a merchant’s agent.

Had it not been for Xue—the orphan girl his parents had adopted—who knelt and begged barefoot doctors for medicine, Zhu Xiang would have long passed away.

Later, he dragged his sickly body, carrying a sheaf of rough paper, and knocked on the door of a grand mansion, risking a beating to beg for a position as a retainer. That was how he and Xue began their current life.

Lin Zhi was the youngest son of that household Zhu Xiang had turned to in desperation.

Zhu Xiang sighed again. Who would’ve thought this freeloading glutton would grow up to be Lin Xiangru’s son—the very Lin Xiangru revered in history books?

He sighed once more at the thought of Lord Lin waiting back home, reminding his son to bring back extra dates in case he didn’t get enough to eat. So much for the halo of history.

But Lin Zhi didn’t think anything was wrong with his behavior.

The Lin family had come from poverty. Otherwise, with Lin Xiangru’s talents, he wouldn’t have had to become a retainer to the eunuch Miao Xian. It wasn’t until after the “Returning the Jade to Zhao” incident that he gained an official post. As a result, Lin Xiangru had always been rather rough around the edges.

Lin Zhi took after his father, but was even more uninhibited—befriending a commoner like Zhu Xiang and constantly crashing at his house. His older brothers had strongly objected to the friendship.

The old state of Lin had once been prosperous but was destroyed early in the Warring States period. The Lin clan had since migrated to Handan to escape war. Though fallen, they still retained their shi (scholar-noble) status.

Even Lin Xiangru had once been scorned by General Lian Po as a “lowly man.” Zhu Xiang, by contrast, was a commoner—without even a proper surname. “Zhu Xiang” was a name from his past life; he’d named himself in this one. As for “Xue,” it was because his parents had found her in the snow.

Lin Xiangru doted on his youngest son and, with the older brothers stationed elsewhere, there was no one to enforce the rules—so Lin Zhi was allowed to befriend whoever he pleased.

Zhu Xiang understood. He bore no ill will toward Lin Zhi’s brothers. It was just the times.

Nobles generally didn’t believe commoners had wisdom. A commoner could only become a retainer if he was an extraordinary warrior, usually to serve as a bodyguard or cannon fodder.

Had Lord Lin not endured hardships among the peasantry in his youth, he would never have accepted Zhu Xiang’s naïve offer of paper-making knowledge in exchange for a retainer position.

After becoming Lin Xiangru’s retainer, Zhu Xiang had quickly revealed his talents as an agricultural professor from a past life. He focused on farming, leaving the papermaking to the Lin family as a gift and a token of gratitude.

Even though he couldn’t understand why, after five or six years, paper still hadn’t spread through Handan, he kept his mouth shut.

Now, Zhu Xiang had more or less learned the rules of survival for commoners in this era.

“Zhu Xiang!” Lin Zhi, still bare-bottomed on the tree, spat out a date pit and called out in surprise. “Someone left a basket at your door! Is it another gift? Maybe chickens or ducks again?”

Zhu Xiang sprang up and ran to the door, grumbling, “I’ve said stop giving gifts already! Times are hard—keep your chickens and ducks for yourselves!”

Lin Zhi laughed and jumped down from the tree, landing lightly like someone with qinggong.

He poured the dates from his robe into a waiting woman’s basket, let his hem fall, and resumed his “respectable scholar” look.

“Xue, Zhu Xiang kept glaring at me just now. Was he bad-mouthing me again?” Lin Zhi teased. “Talking behind someone’s back isn’t what a gentleman does.”

Xue set down her sewing and smiled. “My husband never claimed to be a gentleman. Isn’t there only one gentleman here—Sir Lin?”

“Gentleman” here referred not only to someone virtuous but also to noble young men.

Hearing her clever twist, Lin Zhi laughed. “If Zhu Xiang’s tongue were half as sharp as yours, I’d recommend him as an official.”

Xue just smiled, saying nothing.

She could grumble to Zhu Xiang in private, but no one else would hear a word against him from her.

Lin Zhi sighed. “You two are quite the pair… Can’t you try to persuade Zhu Xiang to go to the battlefield?”

Xue shook her head. “He doesn’t like it. Besides, His Majesty decreed that those who farm well can also earn titles. Who farms better than my husband? You’ve said it yourself—he’s only not been ennobled yet because he’s too young. A few more years and he surely will be.”

Lin Zhi sighed again, this time in his heart. Outwardly, he smiled. “Of course, Zhu Xiang will get his title someday. But farming titles won’t be as high as military ones. Sister Xue, it’s about his future. Please consider it. I’ll send guards to protect him. All he has to do is personally cut off a few enemy heads. There won’t be danger.”

Xue shook her head again. “My husband isn’t afraid of death—he just wants to save lives, not take them. If he can earn a title by keeping people alive, why should he kill?”

Lin Zhi stretched and sighed to the sky. “I know… That’s exactly why I want you to persuade him. I don’t dare say it to his face.”

Xue laughed.

Just then, Zhu Xiang’s furious voice rang out from the gate: “Which heartless bastard left a child at my door?!”

Both Xue and Lin Zhi froze for a moment, then rushed to the entrance.

At the gate, Zhu Xiang was fuming at a large bamboo basket.

Inside, a scrawny child rubbed his eyes and sat up in confusion.

With blackened fingernails and little hands like chicken claws, the child nervously clutched the basket’s rim. “W-Where am I?”

Zhu Xiang’s rant halted. He scooped the child out, wrapped him in his robe, and turned to Lin Zhi. “Sir Lin, someone dumped a kid at my door—this is your responsibility!”

Zhu Xiang lived outside the inner city of Handan, on Lin Xiangru’s fiefdom, so he could focus on farming.

Lin Xiangru was generous to his commoners and used royal rewards to aid them. He had even built a foundling home on his land for abandoned children.

He had ordered that any child a family couldn’t raise must be sent to the foundling home—not abandoned randomly—under penalty of punishment.

Whatever the foundling home’s survival rate, this was the first time Zhu Xiang had seen someone dump a child at someone else’s door.

“Bamboo basket and silk clothing—not things a poor family could afford,” Lin Zhi said, sharper-eyed than Zhu Xiang. “Could someone have meant to send the child to me?”

Bamboo, a southern specialty, and silk were luxuries in Handan—not things the truly poor would use.

Zhu Xiang’s mind instantly filled with countless scenes from palace intrigue dramas: “Don’t tell me… this is a child from your family’s side branch?”

At least he still remembered that in this era, commoners couldn’t casually mock nobles, so he chose a more tactful phrasing instead of blurting out “your brother” or “your son.”

“There’s a letter in the basket,” Lin Zhi said, bending down to pick up a piece of silk cloth from the bottom of the basket. He gave it a glance, and his expression immediately turned strange.

Shock, anger, sympathy… a mix of emotions flickered across his face, making his facial muscles twitch uncontrollably. In the end, his expression froze on “sympathy.”

Zhu Xiang sensed something was wrong and quickly leaned over to read the writing on the silk.

Since becoming a retainer of the Lin family, he’d had the chance to systematically study the writing of this era. Thanks to a decent memory and strong self-discipline, he could now write legibly, so naturally, he could also read the letter.

Then, his face darkened completely.

Lin Zhi smirked sarcastically. “What’s with that expression? Could it be… a relative’s child?”

Zhu Xiang glared at him, then carefully looked at the little boy who was still tightly clutching his outer robe. The child’s expression was blank—he didn’t seem to have realized yet that he’d been abandoned.

Xue frowned. “Liangren, he is…”

Zhu Xiang’s lips moved, but in the end, he suppressed his anger out of concern for the pitiful child. “Let’s talk inside.”

He picked up the still-stunned child and turned to walk through the door, cursing under his breath.

Xue glanced at the boy in Zhu Xiang’s arms, then turned back to instruct the maids to boil water and prepare porridge—this time, with goat’s milk.

Lin Zhi cheerfully followed Zhu Xiang into the house. Once the door was shut, he couldn’t resist taunting, “I’ve heard your tales about that heartless eldest sister of yours, but I never thought I’d be lucky enough to witness her handiwork in person!”

Xue’s previously calm and dignified expression twisted, her voice shooting up several pitches. “What?! This child is Chunhua’s?!”

Zhu Xiang said awkwardly, “Mm.”

Xue’s expression spasmed for a long moment. She finally looked at the child—startled by her sudden shout—and barely refrained from swearing. “She’s still alive?! How is she still alive?!”

Zhu Xiang sighed, ashamed to speak further.

Lin Zhi, the ever-entertained spectator, helpfully explained, “The letter says she’s with another rich merchant now. This child’s a burden, and since she heard Zhu Xiang’s doing pretty well and still hasn’t had a child, she’s ‘generously’ given him the boy—told him to remember her kindness, too! Hahahaha!”

When he said “still hasn’t had a child,” Xue’s face went pale.

Zhu Xiang shot a sharp kick at Lin Zhi’s waist. Lin Zhi didn’t dodge in time and yelped as he clutched his side.

“I’m the one with health issues, unable to have children. That’s on me. But society judges women much more harshly on childbearing. Lin Li, I don’t care if you joke with me—just don’t let Xue hear it. She overthinks and always blames herself for my shortcomings.” Zhu Xiang frowned.

“Li” was Lin Zhi’s courtesy name.

Lin Zhi patted the footprint on his waist and bowed slightly to both Zhu Xiang and Xue. “My mistake. Sister Xue, I was mocking Zhu Xiang, not thinking it through.”

Xue: “…You shouldn’t mock Liangren either!”

Lin Zhi returned to his usual roguish tone, slinging an arm around Zhu Xiang’s shoulders and winking. “I’ll mock him if I want. Just try and stop me.”

Fuming, Xue stomped her foot and stormed off to the kitchen to check on the porridge—and calm herself down.

“All right, now that I’ve made her mad and chased her off, we can talk,” Lin Zhi said, withdrawing his arm. “What are you going to do? You’ve got no other relatives left. This kid might be your only blood relative. Adopting him as your heir might not be a bad idea.”

Before Zhu Xiang could respond, the child in his arms suddenly snapped out of his daze and screamed, “Where is this? I want to go home! I want my mother!”

He bit Zhu Xiang’s arm hard. Zhu Xiang grunted in pain and loosened his grip. The child immediately started to fall. Zhu Xiang quickly steadied him, preventing a hard landing.

The child shoved his hands away and staggered toward the door. “I want to go home! I don’t want to be someone else’s kid—I’m Qin… ah!”

Though articulate, the child’s legs were unsteady. After just a few steps, he tripped and rolled on the ground, getting covered in dirt.

Zhu Xiang hurried forward to help him up.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll take you to your mother,” he said softly, holding the child close and wiping his face with his sleeve. “Don’t be scared. I’m your maternal uncle. ‘When I see my uncle, it’s like seeing my mother.’ I’m your mother’s real brother—I’m not a bad person.”

Lin Zhi couldn’t help interjecting, “Quoting The Book of Songs to a kid this small? You really think he’ll get it?”

The child clutched tightly at Zhu Xiang’s sleeve. “Qin… Qin Feng? Uncle?”

“Yes, I’m your uncle. Don’t be scared. I’ll take you to find your mother. This time, I swear I’ll…” Zhu Xiang gritted his teeth, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh about the boy’s mother in front of him. And with his temperament, even if he did say it, he wouldn’t be able to follow through.

At that moment, Zhu Xiang really felt like stomping his foot and howling at the sky, Why is it always the good guys who get bullied?!

The child looked up, his little face—now wiped clean—was yellowish and thin, clearly not well-treated.

Yet even though his silk clothing was wrinkled and dirty, it was still far beyond what a poor family could afford. So this poor treatment likely had nothing to do with poverty.

Zhu Xiang’s heart ached even more. He silently cursed the mother.

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes. We’ll have something hot to eat, and then I’ll take you to find your mother. All right?” Zhu Xiang said gently.

The boy stopped crying. His frightened expression from earlier vanished, replaced by an unnatural calm. “Really? You’re not lying?”

“I swear!” Zhu Xiang raised a hand. “Come on, we’ll get you washed up, change clothes, and treat your wounds.”

He looked at the scrapes on the boy’s palms from the fall. “Let’s treat these first.”

The child looked down. “Mm… Please take me to see Mama.”

“I will. Lin Li—” Zhu Xiang began.

Lin Zhi waved him off. “Go do what you need to. Don’t worry. I’ve already sent people to find whoever abandoned this child. That woman won’t get far.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Thanks. I’m too busy right now—when this is all over, I’ll cook a feast for you myself.”

Lin Zhi grinned. “I’ll hold you to that!”

As Zhu Xiang left with the child, Lin Zhi’s smile faded.

He knew Zhu Xiang had a gentle nature and soft heart—even when something like this happened, he wouldn’t retaliate too harshly. But as a friend, Lin Zhi really wanted to take matters into his own hands.

Soon, an armored guard with a sword entered in haste.

“Found her?” Lin Zhi asked.

The guard said, “Yes. The woman was just a maid. She gave us the address.”

Lin Zhi said, “Prepare the carriage. I’ll personally go meet this woman who abandoned her own brother and now her own son.”

The guard took his orders and left.

Lin Zhi sighed. “Ah, Sister Xue… your husband’s kindness is enough to give those around him headaches.”

Xue had returned to the front hall at some point. Calmly, she said, “If he weren’t so kind, Master Lin wouldn’t have deigned to befriend him.”

“That’s true,” Lin Zhi admitted. “If we can’t find that woman, would you be willing to adopt the child?”

“Whatever Liangren decides,” Xue replied.

“I don’t buy that. I think it’s really his will to follow yours,” Lin Zhi teased.

Xue said, “If he chooses to follow my will, then it becomes his own.”

“Fine, fine, you win,” Lin Zhi surrendered. “If you two decide not to raise him, I’ll help find a good family far from here to adopt him.”

Xue was finally moved. She bowed with both hands respectfully. “Thank you, Master Lin.”

Zhu Xiang carried the child into the bathhouse.

He liked cleanliness and had built a whole room just for bathing—complete with running water and a stove for heating.

From this, it was clear the Lin family treated him, a mere retainer, quite well—probably even better than a high-ranking one.

But after the bathhouse was built, Xue had immediately claimed half of it for doing laundry and prepping vegetables. After much grumbling, all Zhu Xiang managed to get was: “Okay, okay, I won’t come in while you’re bathing.” He had no choice but to accept this compromise, abandoning his mild germophobia.

Since the weather was cool and they needed to head out soon, Zhu Xiang didn’t give the child a full bath—just wiped him down with hot water.

Clearly the boy didn’t bathe often—he was filthy, with black grime under his fingernails. Most children his age had their heads mostly shaved to prevent lice, but this boy had loose hair full of visible flea eggs. The sight made Zhu Xiang itchy all over.

He desperately wanted to give the child a thorough cleaning, but seeing how the boy was forcing himself to stay calm, and knowing they were leaving soon, he restrained himself. He wiped him down, dressed him in his own linen undershirt and shorts, applied some medicine, and didn’t even wash his hair.

The oversized clothes had to be tied several times to stay on. Then he wrapped the boy in an outer robe, bundling him into a small ball.

“My home only has linen clothes. Not too uncomfortable, I hope?” Zhu Xiang asked.

The child silently shook his head.

Zhu Xiang carried the unusually quiet boy—so different from his earlier hysterics—into the dining hall. Xue had already instructed the servants to heat the goat’s milk porridge.

The child’s stomach was growling. When he caught the scent of the porridge, he hesitated, then picked up a wooden spoon and began eating in small sips.

The porridge was rich with fragrant milk and melt-in-your-mouth rice. The child’s swollen eyes slowly widened, and a faint spark returned to his dull gaze.

He looked up at the young woman who had glared at him but prepared him food anyway, then at the young man trying hard to appear kind. Then he buried his face in the bowl and devoured it like a starving puppy.

Zhu Xiang’s brow furrowed even deeper, but his smile grew softer. Xue’s scowl faded—but soon returned, as she stiffened her face again.

Lin Zhi, sitting quietly nearby, sniffed the air and held out a hand. “Get me a bowl too.”

Zhu Xiang: “…Go ladle it yourself!”