HCT – Chapter 114 Five Hearts of Favor

Li Si’s essays were filled with his insights into Confucian and Legalist texts.

In truth, he had long wanted to offer strategic advice to Zhu Xiang, hoping Zhu Xiang would pass his suggestions on to the King of Qin. But after observing many scholars at the academy, Li Si realized that although they pursued fame and fortune themselves, they disapproved of students openly displaying such ambitions. So he played the long game, pretending to be nothing more than a pure-hearted, diligent learner.

Zhu Xiang, however, skipped the compliments and directly asked him to take up an official post, which took Li Si by surprise.

Ying Zheng reached out, and Zhu Xiang handed him the essay.

After glancing through it, Ying Zheng scoffed, “Empty words. All fluff, no substance.”

Li Si: “……”

He instantly tensed up. Had he offended the Qin prince somehow?

Zhu Xiang smiled. “What Zheng’er means is that you’ve shown your scholarship, but no real policy advice—so there’s no substance. Do you have any other essays?”

Li Si took a deep breath. So he could offer policy advice directly!

Han Fei hurried to defend his friend. “Li Si isn’t someone who speaks without substance. He just didn’t want to come across as overly eager on his first meeting with Lord Zhu Xiang.”

Li Si: “……”

That explanation was worse! Wasn’t that just calling him fake?

Han Fei gave Li Si a look that said, Relax, I’ve got this. Li Si felt utterly betrayed and had to force a grateful expression.

Not just in this life, even in his past life, Zhu Xiang had maxed out his skill in reading people—whether teaching or traveling through the countryside. Li Si’s current act didn’t stand a chance against those eyes, sharp enough to spot cheating from the back of a classroom.

Zhu Xiang chuckled inwardly. Li Si really does seem like one of Han Fei’s “plastic friends.”

But this—this was the Li Si he knew.

Li Si getting close to Han Fei was probably his way of getting closer to himself.

Zhu Xiang wasn’t angry. Li Si hadn’t harmed Han Fei; in fact, his care for Han Fei was genuine. Otherwise, that prickly, guarded little hedgehog wouldn’t have come to regard Li Si as a true friend.

Whatever Li Si’s reasons for befriending Han Fei, as long as their interests remained aligned, Li Si would probably maintain the friendship.

Han Fei, despite his sharp writing, was indecisive in real life—a “help my relatives at all costs” kind of guy. With Li Si by his side, Han Fei’s future might just get a little smoother. Zhu Xiang had no intention of cutting their friendship short.

“No essay is fine,” Zhu Xiang said. “You can simply speak. If it’s just studying the classics, the scholars at Xianyang Academy are more than enough. You came to see me because you wanted me to hear your ideas on national policy, didn’t you?”

Li Si grew nervous again.

Zhu Xiang smiled. “Don’t be nervous. Excelling in studies and then entering officialdom is completely natural. There’s nothing shameful about wanting to put your talents to use in court.”

Han Fei added, “But the scholars here dislike students who chase after fame.”

Ying Zheng scoffed again. “Did they not come to Xianyang Academy for fame themselves?”

Li Si looked at the round-faced young Prince Zheng. The boy who had always been surrounded by strange rumors was now right in front of him—clear, firm, and sharp.

No wonder people said that as long as he lived, Prince Zheng was certain to become King of Qin. In just a few short sentences, he had already displayed the wisdom and clarity of a future ruler.

Zhu Xiang asked again, “Li Si, in your opinion, what is Qin currently lacking?”

Li Si took another deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm.

He knew—this was his chance.

He stood up, bowed deeply to Zhu Xiang, and said crisply and powerfully: “Unify the script and measurement standards, standardize currency and axle width!”

Ying Zheng’s eyelids twitched. He raised his chin slightly, expressionless, and looked intently at the young Li Si.

Zhu Xiang smiled and reached over to ruffle Ying Zheng’s fluffy little head.

The boy who had just shown the domineering aura of the Great Qin’s future emperor in a dreamlike moment now looked completely helpless as Zhu Xiang’s rough hand made his head bob. Furious and indignant, he shouted, “Uncle!”

“Zheng’er is very satisfied with your proposal,” Zhu Xiang said. “So will His Majesty. He is already preparing to implement this. Write up your ideas in detail—I’ll present them to him.”

Li Si’s head snapped up. Then he dropped to his knees and kowtowed. “Thank you, Lord Zhu Xiang!”

Zhu Xiang gave Ying Zheng a little push on the back.

Ying Zheng glared at him. Why are you pushing me?

Zhu Xiang nodded toward Li Si. Go help him up!

With a pout, Ying Zheng jumped off his chair, bent down with a serious face, and grasped Li Si’s arms. “Please rise. I hope you won’t disappoint my uncle’s recommendation.”

The prince himself helping him up—Li Si was overwhelmed with emotion. “At your command!”

He kowtowed once to Ying Zheng, and once more to Zhu Xiang before finally standing.

Han Fei’s face glowed with pride, as if he had just been entrusted with the task.

Li Si knew Han Fei was an upright gentleman, even toward friends. He had long discussed his proposal with Han Fei, who had assured him that this idea would definitely win the Qin King’s favor.

And yet, Han Fei couldn’t help feeling a little bitter.

His friend had real talent—and the opportunity to show it. He himself was more brilliant than Li Si, but had no chance to prove it.

If he were to reveal his talents in Qin, his home country of Han would probably be wiped out even faster.

Anyone with eyes could see it: Qin would destroy the other six states, and Han would be first. Small territory, foolish rulers and ministers—and sitting right on the central route? Of course they’d fall first.

Still, seeing Li Si being valued, he was genuinely happy for him.

Though once upon a time, he had looked down on Li Si’s humble origins.

Li Si was just an ordinary scholar who had once served as the lowest-ranking petty official in the state of Chu. Han Fei, being a prince of Han, held certain prejudices against those of humble origins.

Even though Zhu Xiang also came from a lowly background, he was a singular case, and Han Fei didn’t take him as a representative of the general population.

But Li Si’s sincere friendship and genuine talent moved him. Han Fei had now shed his prejudice and treated this friend with true sincerity, genuinely happy for Li Si’s imminent rise in the world.

His bias against humble origins was quietly being eroded, subtly and without notice.

Li Si looked at Han Fei smugly, hoping to see some envy on his face. Instead, Han Fei responded with a radiant, cloudless smile of joy.

Li Si silently looked away, feeling that his own dark heart had been hurt. Maybe Han Fei thinks that if he ever wanted high office, riches and glory would fall into his hands effortlessly—so he has no need to be jealous of me, Li Si thought to himself.

Zhu Xiang observed the interaction between Li Si and Han Fei and nearly laughed out loud.  Putting these two together will definitely lead to more entertainment in the future.

“If we want standardized script, we need a more concise writing system. And not just standardized script—standardized pronunciation is also important. Qin should establish its own official speech. Whether we need to develop a phonetic system should be considered carefully,” Zhu Xiang said. “As for weights and measures, a decimal system would be best. It’s easier to calculate. And when it comes to currency—how to promote it, what material to use—these are big questions.”

Li Si assumed a listening posture, secretly startled. Lord Zhu Xiang is thinking about these things too?

Zhu Xiang spoke earnestly: “You may spend the next ten or even dozens of years on these matters. But don’t neglect your studies—especially not your moral cultivation. Your biggest problem is that you value power and profit too much. I’m not saying that pursuit of power is wrong—but power and profit are like sand in the hand: the tighter you grip, the more it slips away.”

Cold sweat formed on Li Si’s back. He felt as if Zhu Xiang had seen right through him.

“Those who care the least about power often rise the highest—just like those who don’t fear death often live longer on the battlefield. I hope you understand this. Aside from Confucian texts, you should also read Laozi and Zhuangzi.”

Li Si couldn’t help but tremble as he spoke: “Yes, this humble one will follow your guidance.”

Zhu Xiang then turned to Han Fei: “What I just said to Li Si applies to you too. Li Si is too obsessed with power; you’re too attached to the Han royal family. Too much of anything brings harm. I hope both of you understand this.”

Li Si and Han Fei responded in unison: “Yes.”

Zhu Xiang tapped the table: “That’s enough serious talk for now. I want to hear about your experiences these past years. What do you think of Qin, of the academy, of life in general? Speak freely.”

He turned to Ying Zheng: “Zheng’er, you start the conversation.”

Ying Zheng nodded. He knew that his uncle was using this as an opportunity to train him—how to observe others through conversation.

Ying Zheng thought for a moment, then, using a childlike tone, began by asking about the curriculum at the Xianyang Academy.

Ying Zheng, Han Fei, and Li Si chatted happily late into the night.

Zhu Xiang had Li Si sleep in Han Fei’s room and return to the academy the next day.

He didn’t let Li Si stay any longer—until Li Si learned to better conceal his excessive ambition for power, it would be dangerous for him to get too close to himself or Zheng’er.

He just gave Li Si a few pointers—for example, that when standardizing weights and measures, don’t use different numerical systems; just adopt a unified decimal system. None of this “24 zhu per tael, 16 taels per jin”… it’s a nightmare to calculate.

The rest would be up to Li Si.

The major policies of unifying script, axle width, weights and measures, and currency under Qin Shi Huang had all been proposed by Li Si. Zhu Xiang believed that the Li Si of this timeline would be capable as well.

Rather than doing it all within the brief ten-year reign after Qin’s unification, starting now from the Qin King’s early campaigns—implementing unification policies bit by bit as each new territory is acquired—might make them easier for the people to accept.

Although these unification efforts were critically important, Zhu Xiang wasn’t going to take everything into his own hands. He had his own urgent priorities—like taking care of Fan Ju and drafting a strategy to launch an economic war against Chu.

He had gone through many revisions, none of which satisfied him. He’d even lost a few hairs from the stress. By the time Fan Ju recovered from illness, Zhu Xiang still hadn’t completed the document.

But this wasn’t something that needed to be rushed. Qin didn’t even have much surplus grain to sell at the moment, so Zhu Xiang set aside the pen and returned to the fields, collecting data on the autumn harvest and writing a summary of agricultural production and next year’s planting plans.

During this time, the avatar of Lord Pingyuan (Zhao Sheng) on Zhu Xiang’s Favorability List turned gray.

Zhu Xiang bowed toward the state of Zhao from afar and sighed deeply.

Although he couldn’t recall exactly how long Lord Pingyuan lived in his previous life, he vaguely remembered that it was around the same time as King Zhaoxiang of Qin. In any case, he had lived longer in Zhu Xiang’s previous timeline.

Perhaps it was because this version of Zhao, despite lacking the Battle of Handan, had become even weaker than the one that experienced it, causing Lord Pingyuan more worry.

Zhu Xiang knew that after he, Lord Lian, and Li Mu had left Zhao, Lord Pingyuan had fallen ill for a long time, but had still faithfully served as Chancellor, diligently assisting the king. After Lord Xinling fled Zhao, Lord Pingyuan seemed to fall ill again. Maybe this final illness took his life.

Lord Pingyuan had a good reputation among the Seven States as a virtuous Chancellor—something that had never happened in Zhu Xiang’s past life.

Back then, while he had held high office, he had no such virtuous reputation—just a generous nobleman famous for gathering guests.

Now, he had earned that reputation through his own merits.

Neither Lord Pingyuan nor King Zhaoxiang had left Zhu Xiang a farewell gift, unlike Lord Lin Xiangru.

Lord Pingyuan’s favorability toward him remained unchanged—neither rising nor falling.
King Zhaoxiang’s had risen to two hearts and had sent Zhu Xiang a gift of premium millet—as if poking fun at him.

But neither of them had truly given him a parting gift.

Zhu Xiang guessed it was because when they left this world, the person they cared for the most wasn’t him.

Lord Lin, on the other hand, had passed away thinking of him—even appearing in his dreams to ask if he was doing well.

Thinking of this, Zhu Xiang felt he had to take better care of himself—not to burden his elders and friends with worry, not to let those who cared for him die with concern in their hearts. He’d rather receive no farewell gifts at all than cause those who value him to worry even in death.

Of course, the best thing would be if there were no partings at all.

Just as Zhu Xiang was thinking this, a name suddenly shot to the top of his Favorability List. A sparkling five-heart rating appeared, complete with rainbow fireworks effects from the system—nearly blinding him.

Zhu Xiang rubbed his eyes and reached out toward the virtual list.

There, even in pixel form, the avatar of a gentle, kind-faced woman smiled at him with a look he knew all too well.

Xue Ji?!

“Uncle! Uncle!” Ying Zheng suddenly came running like a whirlwind, crashing into Zhu Xiang’s waist.

After so many years, he nearly knocked his uncle into a herniated disc again.

“Ow… Zheng’er, slow down! My old back!” Zhu Xiang cried, clutching his waist.

“Uncle!” Ying Zheng ignored his uncle’s suffering and leapt up to hang off of him. “Auntie made an incredible spinning wheel! It can spin both cotton and flax! Uncle, come see it! It’s amazing!”

Zhu Xiang: “Huh?!”

How amazing? Is it something that will go down in history?

He glanced at his Favorability List.