HCT – Chapter 100 Bamboo Shoot and Pigeon Congee

“His Majesty is actually coming.” Meng Wu clutched his head in both hands.

“Why didn’t the Crown Prince stop him… Oh, right, there’s no way the Crown Prince could stop His Majesty.” Li Mu pressed a hand to his forehead.

Zhu Xiang sighed, “The south is humid and hot. What if His Majesty can’t adapt? Even if he does adjust to the climate, it’s such a long journey—what if he gets sick from the exhaustion?”

Ying Zheng cast a glance at the adults, all of whom wore helpless expressions upon hearing that His Majesty was coming. “Complaining now won’t help. Grandfather is already on the way and will arrive soon. Instead of wasting time whining, why don’t we think about how to receive him properly?”

Zhu Xiang pulled Ying Zheng onto his knee and kneaded him. “You’re absolutely right. But still, we should complain when we feel like it—it’s a way to relieve stress.”

Ying Zheng replied, “Then you all go ahead and keep complaining.”

Zhu Xiang looked at Ying Zheng’s prominent front teeth and muttered gloomily, “Zheng’er, you’ve got such a big gap in your teeth now, yet you still speak so clearly. I was looking forward to teasing you when you started talking funny.”

Ying Zheng gave his uncle a hard twist on the arm, and for once actually managed to hurt Zhu Xiang.

Li Mu lowered his hand. “Zheng’er is right. No time to complain—we need to prepare a residence where His Majesty can stay.”

Meng Wu frowned miserably. “It’s way too late to build one now.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Simple solution—just put together a basic courtyard with white walls and grey tiles. I’ll live in it and have His Majesty stay with me.”

Li Mu and Meng Wu: “…” What does you living there have to do with anything?

Ying Zheng thought for a moment, then understood his uncle’s intention. “It’s not feasible to construct a full-scale palace here in Wucheng on such short notice. Renovating someone’s existing home is more doable, even if it won’t be luxurious. But since it can’t compare to a proper palace anyway, we might as well focus on comfort. If the courtyard is cozy, Grandfather will be at ease.”

Seeing that Li Mu and Meng Wu still didn’t quite get it, he explained further: “Since we can’t build a palace, we might as well let Grandfather live with Uncle and me, like he did when we stayed at the countryside villa. If we move in first and make the suggestion, Grandfather won’t feel slighted by others.”

Li Mu and Meng Wu finally understood what Ying Zheng was getting at.

Zhu Xiang was treating the King of Qin like a regular elder. So, if he personally oversaw the renovation of a tasteful and comfortable courtyard and then invited the king to stay with him, His Majesty wouldn’t suspect others of disrespecting him.

Rather than racking their brains trying to create a half-baked makeshift palace, it would be better to let this visit truly feel like a casual, private one.

“By the way, under whose identity is His Majesty traveling?” Meng Wu asked. “It wasn’t mentioned in the secret edict.”

Even though the whole of Xianyang knew the King had left the palace, the locals here didn’t know, so officially, it was still a discreet visit.

Zhu Xiang replied, “His Majesty said we’ll find out when he arrives.”

Li Mu again facepalmed. “His Majesty really is… Can he not think about his status and age just a little?”

Zhu Xiang laughed. “Back then, the King of Qin secretly went to Yewang to recruit soldiers and even oversaw the Battle of Changping in person. At least this time, he waited until after the battle to come.”

Li Mu twitched the corner of his mouth but felt a renewed respect for the king in his heart.

“Although His Majesty is traveling incognito, his identity is easily revealed. If the Chu army catches wind of it, they might take action,” Li Mu changed the subject. “Even though they’ve given up on Jiangdong, if they learn the King of Qin is here, they may strike.”

“That’s true,” Zhu Xiang said. “Protecting His Majesty and preparing for potential Chu threats will fall to you two. Zheng’er and I will just handle the eating, drinking, and entertaining part, right, Zheng’er?”

Knowing his uncle was up to mischief again, Ying Zheng smiled with crescent eyes and dimples. “Right!”

Looking at this mischievous uncle and nephew duo with nearly identical expressions, Li Mu and Meng Wu both sighed.

Where are the elders when you need them? Zhu Xiang clearly needs a spanking again!

Once Zhu Xiang learned the King of Qin was coming, he only panicked for a short while before going back to work as usual.

But when Li Mu realized Zhu Xiang was trying to shove all the reception responsibilities onto him and Meng Wu, he and Meng Wu promptly dragged Zhu Xiang to the courtyard where the king would stay and made him supervise the renovation.

“Your students are already capable of overseeing farming work. The irrigation systems are handled. His Majesty’s residence is now the top priority—you must personally supervise it,” Li Mu firmly insisted, giving Zhu Xiang a ceremonial excuse to prevent him from slipping away.

Ying Zheng followed Zhu Xiang around the construction site for a few days, got bored, and went back to reading.

The students from Xianyang’s Academy had been documenting their journey and writing manuscripts while they worked. Ying Zheng was “reviewing” these manuscripts to make sure there were no “forbidden phrases.”

One student, for instance, recorded Zhu Xiang’s words and described Ying Zheng as “a short, chubby-legged little guy.” That manuscript must be burned immediately!

By the time the courtyard was completed, spring planting in Wucheng was finished, and the King of Qin’s feet finally touched Wucheng’s soil.

When Zhu Xiang saw someone being carried off the boat, tears immediately welled up. He rushed forward. “Your… Ji Wang, are you sick? Are you alright?”

An old man beside the stretcher looked up. “Huh? I’m fine, not sick at all.” This rascal dares call me by name!

Zhu Xiang stopped in his tracks and wiped his tears. “Huh?”

Zichu ground his teeth. “It hasn’t even been that long—how do you not recognize my face?”

Zhu Xiang peered closely and laughed, “It’s not that I didn’t recognize you—I couldn’t see your face under that furry collar. Hahaha, Zheng’er, come quick! Your father’s sick again!”

Zichu: “…” What did I do to deserve a friend this annoying?

Ying Zheng blinked. “Father, you’ve worked hard.”

Zichu glanced at Ying Zheng, his feelings tangled. He could see the genuine concern in his son’s eyes.

The once-cold child was now worried about him, while his supposed best friend just stood there laughing.

“How should I address you now?” Zhu Xiang ignored the reclining yet rosy-cheeked Zichu and leaned close to the King of Qin to whisper.

The king lowered his voice. “Didn’t you already call me ‘Ji Wang’?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “But that’s basically calling out Your Majesty’s real name. Isn’t that kind of inappropriate?”

The King rolled his eyes. You already shouted it out, and now you’re asking if it’s okay?

“I’m ‘Ji Wang,’ the teacher and guest of Lord Zichu. They don’t know which ‘Ji’ it is—so it doesn’t count as my name.”

Ying Zheng immediately sweetened his voice and clung to him, “Ji Wang, Zheng’er missed you so much!”

The King of Qin broke into a wide smile and picked him up. “Ji Wang missed Zheng’er too! Ah, you’re changing your teeth already—you’re growing up!”

Ying Zheng grinned and pointed at his teeth. “I’ve already lost four. Soon I’ll be done changing them. Zheng’er is going to grow up fast!”

The King praised, “Amazing! That’s my Zheng’er!”

The great-grandfather and great-grandson pair walked ahead laughing together. The King carried little chubby Zheng’er without even a puff of breath, as if the long journey hadn’t tired him at all.

Only then did Li Mu and Meng Wu, unsure how to greet him until now, step forward after hearing the king’s self-introduction.

The King gave Zhu Xiang a meaningful glance—go take care of Zichu—and began chatting with Li Mu and Meng Wu.

Zhu Xiang poked Zichu’s cheek where he lay. “Look at Ji Wang—don’t you feel ashamed?”

Zichu gritted his teeth and said, “I’m not sick. I’m seasick!”

Zhu Xiang laughed silently, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching his ears.

Zichu took a few deep breaths and said, “Help me up.”

Zhu Xiang helped him up. “Since you can walk, why were you lying down?”

Zichu weakly replied, “My limbs are weak.”

Zhu Xiang was speechless. “Then why get up? Lie back down.”

Zichu muttered, “It’s embarrassing.”

Zhu Xiang chuckled, “And you’re not embarrassed now? Though, I suppose lying down like this is even more humiliating.”

He squatted down. “Get on.”

Zichu: “Huh?”

Zhu Xiang looked back. “I’ll carry you to the carriage. It looks better than being carried by someone else. Once we’re home, I’ll make you a wheelchair before you go out again.”

“A bit of rest is enough. I don’t need a wheelchair.” Zichu thought about it and realized being carried on someone’s back was at least a bit more dignified than being lifted. With the help of a servant, he climbed onto Zhu Xiang’s back.

Zhu Xiang could carry a whole basket of grain, so carrying Zichu was nothing. He even felt that Zichu was lighter than a basket of grain.

“Ji Wang, you all continue chatting. I’m taking Xia Tong back to rest,” Zhu Xiang said bluntly. After all, the King of Qin wasn’t officially the king just yet.

The King of Qin held little Ying Zheng in one arm and waved the other. “Take good care of Zichu. Once he recovers, take him around for a walk. I’ll be fine with Li Mu, Meng Wu, and Zheng’er. No need to worry about me.”

“Zheng’er, take care of Ji Wang,” Zhu Xiang said.

Ying Zheng, clinging to the King of Qin’s neck, nodded seriously. “Uncle, don’t worry. Father, take care of your health.”

Zichu had already lost face and was too tired to put on a strong front. In a weak voice, he said, “Alright.”

So, under the watchful eyes of the local Wu and Yue nobles who weren’t even qualified to approach, Zhu Xiang carried Zichu out of the crowd and boarded the carriage amidst the nobles’ regretful gazes.

Zhu Xiang chose to carry Zichu because the welcoming crowd had blocked the pier. Many people were speculating who this honored guest was—someone important enough to be welcomed by three high-ranking Qin officials. They all wanted a chance to be seen, or ideally, strike up a conversation.

Rather than having servants lift Zichu out of the crowd, it was better for Zhu Xiang to personally carry him. It preserved at least a shred of dignity.

“Why did you come?” Zhu Xiang asked after setting Zichu down in the carriage. He checked his pulse and examined his eyelids, frowning deeply. “You didn’t tell the King of Qin you get seasick? Severe seasickness can be fatal! Are you trying to die?”

Zichu saw Zhu Xiang quickly shut the carriage door and change his expression. He immediately understood that Zhu Xiang’s earlier “mockery” had been to hide his concern from the King of Qin.

He quickly explained, “I’ve never had seasickness before. Once the weather got hot, I started feeling unwell. Being on the boat for so long made it worse, but it’s really not serious. Don’t worry.”

“Ever since you came to Qin, have we ever reunited without you being sick? Last time you went to the Rong and Di tribes, you were carried back. Now in Wu City, you’re being carried out again. How am I supposed to not worry?” Zhu Xiang lowered his voice in anger. “How many times have I told you? If you die, everything you’re striving for is gone. Why won’t you listen? Do you have no idea about your own health? Just because the King of Qin told you to come, you followed?!”

Zichu gave a bitter smile. “It really was just mild seasickness… Wait, you can check pulses now?” He quickly tried to change the subject.

Zhu Xiang handed him a cup of herbal tea to dispel dampness. “I’ve learned the basics—just enough to deal with minor illnesses. That way, if something goes wrong, I can handle it.”

“You really can learn anything,” Zichu said.

Zhu Xiang scolded, “They say a long illness makes you a doctor. Can’t you learn a little yourself?”

Zichu: “……” (Failed to change the subject.)

He sighed, drinking the herbal tea while enduring Zhu Xiang’s nonstop scolding.

If it were anyone else, Zichu could have offered plenty of excuses. But with Zhu Xiang, he didn’t dare argue.

The King of Qin brought him along not only because of his identity as cover, but also because of succession concerns.

The worst-case scenario for this trip was the King dying en route. Though Crown Prince Zhu remained in Xianyang with full regency powers, the paranoid King of Qin still feared someone might fabricate a will and trigger a succession crisis if he died far from home.

Crown Prince Zhu’s claim to the throne was solid, but Zichu and Zheng’er, the next two generations of successors, weren’t as secure. The King needed Zichu close, so if anything happened to him, Zhu could stabilize the court from within, and Zichu from without.

So even if Zichu had shown signs of seasickness before—which he hadn’t—he would still have come, even lying down the whole way.

With Zhu Xiang’s intelligence, he had clearly figured that out, which left Zichu no room to argue. He had indeed come of his own accord.

The King of Qin’s purpose was to further secure Zichu’s succession. Falling ill would have defeated the purpose. Zichu could have stayed behind using illness as a reason, and the King would’ve made other arrangements—like letting Meng Wu or Zhu Xiang take his place.

Once Zhu Xiang had scolded himself hoarse and chugged water, Zichu finally spoke. “After some tea, I feel much better. Listen to how strong my voice sounds.”

Zhu Xiang gave him a sideways glance. “Zheng’er’s been traveling and hasn’t lost any weight. You, on the other hand, were resting well in Xianyang and still turned into a bag of bones.”

“First of all, Zhu Xiang,” Zichu said lightly, now that Zhu Xiang had calmed down, “you once said that only piglets ‘lose weight.’ And besides, I only lost a little because I couldn’t eat much on the boat.”

“I found some edible mushrooms and dug up spring bamboo shoots. I’ll make you something light and appetizing.” Based on his rudimentary medical knowledge, Zhu Xiang believed Zichu’s seasickness came from excessive dampness in the body. Cooking fresh vegetables with ginger, garlic, and vinegar would help dispel that. As for chili peppers—it would depend on whether Zichu could handle the spice.

“Sounds good. Just hearing that makes me hungry,” Zichu said, then complained, “I never want to see fish again. His Majesty goes fishing every day and always catches something. I’m sick of even smelling fish.”

“Seems your seasickness was made worse by eating too much fish. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s no fish on the table. Want shrimp?”

Zichu quickly waved his hand. “Don’t want anything from the water.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Seaweed and kelp are great for flavor.”

Zichu said, “If it smells fishy, I’m not eating it. Everything else is up to you.”

He rubbed his hands together and grumbled, “I never should’ve learned cooking from you. Now His Majesty doesn’t trust anyone else to cook his freshly caught fish. He insists I supervise the cooks myself.”

Zhu Xiang finally cracked a smile. “Your hands probably reek of fish now. When we get back, I’ll find you some of Zheng’er’s hand and face creams. How does His Majesty never get tired of eating fish every single day?”

Zichu looked hopeless. “I’d love to know the answer to that myself.”

Zhu Xiang’s anger flared quickly, but faded just as fast. By the time they stepped out of the carriage, he was no longer mad at Zichu.

He understood Zichu’s thirst for power, and how difficult the path to the Qin throne was for him. Every step was like walking a tightrope—despite having an advantage, one misstep could ruin everything.

Compared to the historical Ying Zheng, Zichu’s road was even rougher.

So when Zichu believed he could still push through, he would walk the “right” path, even if it meant risking illness or injury. If Zhu Xiang didn’t let his anger go quickly, Zichu would’ve infuriated him to death long ago.

Thankfully, little Zheng’er wasn’t like Zichu.

“This courtyard is quite charming,” Zichu remarked as soon as he entered their residence, immediately taking a liking to it.

“Only the area around Su… Wucheng can have scenery like this,” Zhu Xiang introduced. “Little bridges and flowing water, white walls and black tiles, dense green bamboo—doesn’t just looking at it make you feel at ease?”

The courtyard Zhu Xiang had “decorated” used some of the scenic techniques from the Suzhou gardens he had seen in later generations. The key was to be small and refined. He had planted many southern-specific plants to give the King of Qin, who came from the north, a subtle sense of “exotic shock.”

Zichu’s aesthetic taste wasn’t much different from the old King of Qin. If Zichu was satisfied, then the old King would definitely be too.

Zichu brushed aside the shrubbery and laughed, “I knew it—you’d definitely plant vegetables in the flat part of the courtyard.”

Zhu Xiang supported Zichu and said, “Of course. These vegetables can be considered rare plants, and they can be picked and eaten fresh—much fresher than the vegetables transported from distant manors. You rest first. Once you can walk on your own, I’ll give you the full tour.”

Zichu replied, “Alright.”

The water had already been boiled. Zhu Xiang ordered someone to help Zichu take a bath. He rolled up his sleeves and started making some porridge to settle Zichu’s stomach.

Looking through the kitchen’s ingredients, Zhu Xiang found that someone had not only sent bamboo shoots but also a rare wild fungus—bamboo pith (zhúsūn, aka bamboo mushroom).

Bamboo pith looks like a white plastic mesh. It’s a precious fungus that mostly grows in bamboo forests, with a very delicate flavor. In the later generations, Zhu Xiang would usually drink bamboo pith and cucumber soup to bring out its fresh and light taste.

There were no cucumbers here, so Zhu Xiang thought for a bit and made a broth with pigeon. After the broth was done, he added the bamboo pith and bamboo shoots, simmered them until tender, then removed the pigeon.

He put on cotton gloves that had been scalded with boiling water, tore the pigeon meat into shreds, and chopped it into minced pieces.

Next, he filtered the broth, picked out the intact bamboo pith and bamboo shoots, washed and chopped them.

He took out an earthen pot, added the minced pigeon meat, the chopped bamboo pith and bamboo shoots, poured in the filtered pigeon broth, added two handfuls of rice, and covered the pot to simmer it over a low flame.

When the clay pot porridge began to boil, Zhu Xiang stirred clockwise as he added salt to prevent it from burning at the bottom.

By the time Zichu came out after his bath, the porridge was ready.

Zhu Xiang grabbed a handful of leafy greens from a jar, shredded them, mixed them with a few drops of sesame oil and chili oil, and brought them out along with the clay pot porridge.

Zichu, who thought he had no appetite, realized the moment he smelled the porridge that he wasn’t lacking appetite—he had just not had anything tasty in a long time.

“This pickled vegetable tastes different from the one you used to send me,” Zichu said as he sipped the porridge with pickles, not bothering with formal table etiquette in front of a friend.

Zhu Xiang explained, “What I used to send you was dried pickled vegetables. This is fresh pickled vegetable—both are salted, but the pickling methods differ, so the taste is naturally different. In this batch, I added ginger, chili, and Sichuan peppercorns. After a few days of pickling, it’s ready to eat—not overly fermented, just the right crunch.”

Zichu said, “No wonder my tongue feels a little numb. This red oil doesn’t have the bitterness of zhuyu oil. Is this what you call chili oil?”

Zhu Xiang said, “If you’re not used to chili, I can swap it out for another kind.”

Zichu protectively covered the pickles, “I am used to it.”

Zhu Xiang eyed him suspiciously, “Don’t tell me the imperial physician banned you from eating spicy, and you’ve been off it for a long time?”

Zichu immediately said, “I haven’t been banned!”

Zhu Xiang understood instantly—clearly the physician had banned it.

But just a few drops of chili oil wouldn’t cause problems. Seeing how happily Zichu was eating, Zhu Xiang pretended to be fooled.

As long as he had an appetite and could eat, a little chili oil wouldn’t do any harm.

After filling his belly, Zichu finally felt some strength returning to his body.

He’d slept too much on the boat, so now he wasn’t sleepy at all. Zhu Xiang accompanied him on a walk as they chatted about everything that had happened since Zhu Xiang left Xianyang.

Although Zhu Xiang had sent letters back, the contents of a letter and what he could say in person were naturally different.

For example, he wouldn’t write in a letter how when Zheng’er lost his first tooth, Zhang Ruo, Meng Wu, and Li Mu were nearly scared to death.

Zichu chuckled, “Even Lord Zhang has become your friend now?”

Zhu Xiang rubbed his nose awkwardly, “He’s an elder, not a friend.”

Zichu said, “I saw your memorial report earlier—you clearly weren’t very satisfied with the Governor of Shu Prefecture.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “I criticize issues, not people. Shu Prefecture did have many shortcomings, but it’s also true that Lord Zhang did everything he possibly could. Back then, Shu needed someone like him—someone who could lead troops in battle. But now, what Shu needs is someone like Li Bing, who can manage infrastructure and pacify the people. There’s no better or worse—just different strengths.”

Zichu said, “You’re lying. You clearly think Li Bing is more capable.”

Zhu Xiang smiled, “Only after Li Bing finishes the diversion dam can I say that.”

Zichu asked, “Is this also ‘criticizing issues, not people’?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Yes. Now that we’re by the sea, how can we not eat seafood? When you no longer hate the smell of fish, I’ll take you to try some. Zheng’er especially loves this one kind of beach worm…”

“Stop!” Zichu scolded. “Stop taking Zheng’er to eat weird things!”

Zhu Xiang spread his hands, “Xia Tong, you should learn from Zheng’er—eat everything, that’s how he’s grown so strong. Give him a few more years and I bet he could lift you onto his shoulder with one hand.”

Zichu’s mouth twitched, “What kind of unfilial son lifts his own father onto his shoulder?!”

Zhu Xiang replied, “During a famine evacuation?”

Zichu’s mouth twitched even more violently, “If I’m being carried on Zheng’er’s shoulder fleeing a disaster, then why don’t you just say Qin has fallen already?”

Zhu Xiang said seriously, “Xia Tong, don’t worry—you absolutely won’t live to see the fall of Qin.”

Zichu couldn’t bear it any longer and raised his sword—scabbard and all.

Zhu Xiang dodged, “You’re still sick! Careful or you’ll knock yourself out before you hit me… Eh? Don’t believe me? Take this!”

He rolled on the ground and picked up a stick—probably one Zheng’er had tossed during play—and began sparring with Zichu.

The two started smacking at each other noisily. Just then, the King of Qin, who had come home to eat, saw the commotion.

He laughed and cursed, “These two—get them together and they regress to Zheng’er’s age!”

Little Ying Zheng held his great-grandfather’s hand and grumbled, “Zheng’er is more mature than both Father and Uncle!”

The King of Qin nodded in agreement, “Indeed, Zheng’er is much better than these two brats.”

Meng Wu said to Li Mu, “Every time I see Prince Zichu and Zhu Xiang fighting, I remember how Zhu Xiang described it himself—two rookie chickens pecking at each other.”

Li Mu sighed, “Even he knows it, yet still refuses to learn swordsmanship seriously.”

Meng Wu said, “Isn’t it possible that both Prince Zichu and Zhu Xiang have been trying very hard to learn… they’re just hopelessly untalented?”

Li Mu said, “I think they must have some talent. It’s not that bad.”

Ying Zheng turned back and said, “Teacher, Father and Uncle can’t hear you. You don’t need to comfort them.”

The King of Qin burst into laughter.

Hearing the king’s laughter, Zichu and Zhu Xiang finally stopped.

Zichu’s legs gave way and he nearly fell, but Zhu Xiang caught him in time.

“Ji Wang, I’ve made some porridge to fill your stomach. After that, we’ll have a feast of delicacies!” Zhu Xiang said. “I only made porridge for Ji Wang. None of you are allowed to drink it! Especially you, Zheng’er!”

Ying Zheng stomped his feet in anger. “What do you mean especially me, Zheng’er?!”

The King of Qin laughed and said, “I’m happy to let Zheng’er share some. Come, Zheng’er, take Ji Wang to have some porridge.”

Ying Zheng made a face at Zhu Xiang and marched off proudly with the king to the kitchen.

Zhu Xiang kept shouting after them, “Ji Wang, don’t let Zheng’er drink it. If he eats too much now, he won’t be able to eat dinner!”

“I can eat it all!” Ying Zheng retorted.

The King of Qin said, “You just take care of Zichu. I’ll handle Zheng’er.”

Once the king was out of earshot, Zhu Xiang muttered to Meng Wu and Li Mu who had remained behind, “He’ll handle him? And let Zheng’er get as skinny as Xia Tong?”

Li Mu supported Zichu’s other shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?”

Meng Wu whispered, “You’re not fully recovered. Why argue with Zhu Xiang? If you’re that upset, let us help you deal with him. What did he say to provoke you?”

Zhu Xiang cut in first: “I said he wouldn’t live to see the fall of Qin. Then he got furious. So unreasonable.”

Zichu: “…” Damn it, now he wanted to draw his sword again!

The four friends were finally reunited. Before the King of Qin returned, they sat around the table and chatted for a while.

Zichu was very interested in the details of Li Mu’s recent battle. Li Mu gave a modest description, but Zichu scoffed, saying his humility made it sound even more exaggerated.

After having his fill of porridge in the kitchen with Ying Zheng, the King of Qin swaggered back to find Zhu Xiang.

From afar, he could already hear the cheerful laughter and lively chatter of the four young men. A warm and relaxed smile appeared on his face.

The King of Qin sighed, “Ever since Zhu Xiang left Xianyang, I haven’t heard such sounds in a long time.”

Ying Zheng added, “Of course, Uncle’s just too noisy.”

The King of Qin looked down at him and said, “Zheng’er is finally growing up. You’re getting taller.”

Ying Zheng raised his chin proudly, “Soon I’ll be as tall as Father and Uncle!”

“That may take some time,” the king replied. “Have you been studying well since you left Xianyang?”

Ying Zheng said, “Not only have I studied well, but many people have also written books for me. The students at the Xianyang Academy are compiling a collection of Uncle’s sayings. Uncle also wrote many mythological stories. They’re really interesting.”

The King of Qin was surprised. “They’ve started compiling books for Zhu Xiang?”

Ying Zheng nodded. “Uncle read it too and said it was amusing. It felt like reading about someone he didn’t know. He doesn’t even remember saying most of those things.”

The king was stunned at first, then smiled.

Ying Zheng shook his head dramatically and sighed repeatedly. “Maybe Uncle just has a bad memory. But it’s really funny how the students can’t agree on what he said or did at the same time. I should compile my own version of Uncle’s sayings. The first quote will be, ‘I didn’t say that.’”

The King of Qin pressed a hand on Ying Zheng’s little wobbly head and chuckled. “Alright, Zheng’er can write a book of his own in the future.”

He sighed again. “Compiling books… If I had the leisure, I’d love to take Zhu Xiang’s advice: gather talented scholars from across the lands and preserve the rare texts from all states. That would certainly leave a name in history.”

Ying Zheng replied, “Great-grandfather has already done so many things to leave a name in history. One more won’t make a difference.”

“Call me Ji Wang. You’re used to it now. Better not slip up outside,” the king said, pressing Ying Zheng’s head again. “People are greedy. They’re never satisfied with what they’ve achieved.”

Ying Zheng pitifully said, “Ji Wang, you should do less. If you do everything that earns fame, what will Zheng’er have left to do? Let me handle the book compiling.”

The King of Qin pinched his little nose. “There are too many things you can do. One less won’t matter.”

“Ji Wang! Come play mahjong! We need a fourth!” Zhu Xiang got up to greet him. “Zheng’er can teach you. I’ll go cook.”

The King of Qin asked, confused, “What is mahjong?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “A kind of tile game. As for why it’s called mahjong… I just made it up. You can call it bird tiles, hanging tiles, whatever.”

When the King of Qin approached, he saw the four of them chatting and playing a game he’d never seen before.

He asked in confusion, “Zichu, you know how to play too?”

Zichu said, “A few rounds and I got the hang of it.”

The king became interested. “Alright, I’ll try. Zheng’er, help Ji Wang.”

Ying Zheng sat upright in the king’s lap and said, “Leave it to me! I’ll beat Father, Teacher, and Uncle Meng to a pulp!”

The King of Qin pinched his lips into a duckbill shape. “Don’t copy your uncle’s way of talking.”

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help but quip before leaving, “I raised him. Who else should he learn from if not me?”

Then he ran off—thrilling.

The King of Qin shook his head and sighed, “I thought he’d become more steady after everything he went through. Why is he still so flighty?”

Ying Zheng said sagely, “Uncle’s temperament may never change. Sigh, truly worrying.”

Zichu gave the pretending-to-be-mature Ying Zheng a side glance.

After being apart for a while, Ying Zheng had become even better at pretending to be a child than when he was younger.

The King of Qin learned to play mahjong; Zhu Xiang prepared a full table of mountain delicacies, using up all the wild mushrooms they had collected.

The next day, the still-vigorous King of Qin went out again with Li Mu, Meng Wu, and Ying Zheng. His retainer was to inspect the naval camp on behalf of the ailing Prince Zichu.

Left behind, Zichu slept half the day. When he woke up and heard the king had already left, he was so embarrassed his face turned bright red.

“You’re the king’s grandson. Of course he cares about you. Why are you embarrassed?” Zhu Xiang peeled an orange and handed half to Zichu. “What, not used to being someone’s grandson?”

Zichu nearly crushed the orange. Zhu Xiang’s mouth was getting more wicked—every casual line made him want to draw his sword.

Zhu Xiang insisted Zichu’s health was poor, that his hormones were out of balance, making him irritable, and that he should drink more bitter medicine.

Zichu almost fought him again.

Because the King of Qin was showing such care, Zichu had no choice but to rest in the small courtyard for the whole day.

That night, the king didn’t return. Likely, he stayed at the military camp.

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help but marvel—just look at the king, still so healthy and energetic.

The next day, Zichu couldn’t sit still anymore. He asked Zhu Xiang to take him on a tour of Wucheng.

It was his first time visiting a water-networked city, and he was very curious.

“You said there are waterborne parasites in snails and mosquitoes can spread disease?” Zichu asked while observing a small river. “If people dump waste directly into the river, would it contaminate the drinking water?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Exactly. That’s why when building new cities, it’s essential to plan a proper sewage system. Even when draining waste, you must monitor water pollution constantly.”

Zichu said, “It’s hard to cover the whole city with sewers. Maybe we can try near the palace during Xianyang’s renovation.”

Zhu Xiang sighed, “I know. It’s impossible to lay a full sewer system with the current manpower, resources, and technology. All we can do is our best. Like keeping streets clean, building public toilets along major roads, and banning open urination. The waste from public toilets can be sold—it actually makes good money.”

Zichu looked disgusted. “Who would sell that? Should the government sell it?”

Zhu Xiang wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t scoff. Did you know a king from a small ancient country once monopolized the capital’s waste transport? He became the poop king of the city.”

Zichu looked even more disgusted. “Even if the state profits from the people, it should be officials acting in the government’s name. The revenue should go into state coffers. Why would a king personally send people to do that? Was he that short on money?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Maybe he really was? Hahaha…”

Zichu spread his hands. “If he was really broke, what can you say… How embarrassing.”

Zhu Xiang laughed again and continued mocking future emperors to past kings.

He ranted about other ridiculous urban projects by future rulers—like Qin Shi Huang.

Qin Shi Huang, not understanding urban capacity, moved all the rich and powerful to Xianyang and turned it into a super capital. The surrounding area couldn’t support its population, so resources had to be imported in bulk, causing excessive corvée labor and waste.

Zichu cursed that unknown small-country king again—what a lousy ruler, couldn’t even think of that!

Meanwhile, Ying Zheng, trying to curry favor with the old king, sneezed several times. Rubbing his nose, he had a feeling someone was badmouthing him.

As Zhu Xiang and Zichu discussed city planning and epidemic prevention, the King of Qin boarded Li Mu’s navy flagship—a multi-level warship.

He gently touched the mast and was filled with immense pride. He ordered Li Mu to find an artist to draw the warship.

Ying Zheng sneezed again while flattering him, saying they should call it “The King of Qin Inspects the Navy”. Since they couldn’t reveal identities now, they could wait till they returned to the palace and have court painters enhance it from sketches.

“This is the thunder cart Zhu Xiang made with gunpowder?” the King of Qin circled the weapon several times.

Li Mu quickly said, “I made it. Zhu Xiang only used gunpowder for blasting mountains. He hasn’t created weapons.”

The King of Qin stared silently at Li Mu, his eyes dark and unreadable, lips pursed downward.

Li Mu bowed and said, “Ji Wang can ask the craftsmen. It’s truly my work. How could I dare take credit from Lord Changping?”

The King of Qin was silent for a long time. By the time he finally spoke, Li Mu’s back was soaked with cold sweat.

“The king won’t send Zhu Xiang to the battlefield. General Li, you’re overthinking. Now tell me more about this thunder cart.”

Li Mu respectfully answered, “Yes, my lord.”