HCT – Chapter 12 First Emperor’s Snot Bubble

Zhu Xiang’s “resurrection” was entirely thanks to the system giving him a shove.

Once Zhu Xiang returned to his own body, the system began to activate. But for all these years, the activation progress bar had been stuck at 99%, almost sending Zhu Xiang to an early grave.

Any modern young person obsessed with surfing the internet has undoubtedly suffered this kind of torment before.

Download stuck at 99%, update stuck at 99%, even watching a video gets stuck at 99%… That eternal 99%—giving you hope that the progress bar will complete in the next second, but every second after that is pure agony.

On the first day, Zhu Xiang saw the activation bar stuck at 99% and became so anxious he checked it hundreds of times a day.

A month later, he’d only look once a day to see if it was still stuck.

A year, two years passed… Until now, Zhu Xiang had lost all hope for the system “golden finger.” He forced himself to ignore the system’s existence, pretending he didn’t have a cheat at all. But he still couldn’t help glancing at the activation bar daily, cultivating inner peace and self-control in the process.

Don’t be anxious, don’t be anxious… So what if it’s stuck at 99% for years? I’m totally not anxious. Deep breath.

And now, the activation bar that had been stuck at 99% for so long suddenly moved. For a moment, Zhu Xiang couldn’t tell if this was real or if he’d stared at the bar so long he was hallucinating.

But he didn’t have time to think about the system right now—Ying Zheng was sobbing in his arms, gasping for breath, nose and tears smearing all over him.

Xue rushed over in a panic. “What happened? Darling, why are you just standing there? Hurry up and comfort Zheng’er! I heard that if a child cries too hard, they can get sick!”

“Oh, right!” Zhu Xiang hurriedly rocked the skinny little boy in his arms like a cradle. “Zheng’er, don’t cry. It was just a nightmare. Uncle’s right here, I’m not going anywhere. See? Feel it—Uncle is here.”

Zhu Xiang gently rocked the hiccupping, tearful Ying Zheng and held the boy’s little hand—covered in snot and tears—against his own face without a trace of disgust.

Zhu Xiang had been working hard to learn swordsmanship from Xun Kuang. Though judging by Xun Kuang’s disdainful gaze, his progress was worrying at best, he had at least completed his warmups, so his face was a bit warm now.

The warmth of his uncle’s cheek transmitted through Ying Zheng’s sticky little hand and sank into the child’s senses.

His sobbing eased slightly. “It was… a nightmare. Hic…”

“Yes, just a nightmare. Uncle’s here,” Zhu Xiang comforted. “Don’t be scared.”

Ying Zheng hiccupped as he cautiously rubbed his uncle’s face.

Then he saw that his dirty hand had smeared snot across half of Zhu Xiang’s face.

Ying Zheng froze, looked down at his uncle’s chest, and let out a loud hiccup.

His uncle’s clothes were a complete mess, covered in sticky, slimy snot.

A small child crying this hard couldn’t possibly control their snot. Sometimes it even came with drool. Now that his rationality had returned, Ying Zheng looked at his uncle’s dirty face and clothes and involuntarily shrank his shoulders.

He remembered how his birth mother used to pinch her nose in disgust, frowning with aversion whenever she took care of him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Xue pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wiped Ying Zheng’s face. “Give Zheng’er to me. You’re all dirty—don’t smear his clothes too.”

Zhu Xiang handed Ying Zheng over and instructed the old servant to fetch warm water to stop his hiccups. Then he apologized to the onlooking Xun Kuang and Cai Ze before heading back to change his clothes.

Xue took Ying Zheng to wash his face and hands, then gave him a small piece of candy to soothe his throat.

But instead of seeing looks of disgust from his uncle and aunt, Ying Zheng found that his aunt was unreasonably annoyed at Zhu Xiang for letting himself get so dirty.

This reaction completely surprised Ying Zheng.

While Xue was washing his face and hands, Ying Zheng cautiously said, “Auntie, I got Uncle’s clothes and face all dirty… I should apologize to Uncle.”

But Xue frowned and said, “He should’ve wiped your face clean right away instead of standing there like an idiot!”

Ying Zheng was startled by her sudden raised brow and didn’t dare to question her further.

“You’re just a child. How could it be your fault? It’s me and your uncle who are in the wrong—we shouldn’t have left you to sleep alone.” Xue gently stroked his reddened cheeks and carried him to her vanity. She took out a floral-scented lanolin cream and applied it to his face and hands.

Ying Zheng sniffed. “It smells so nice.”

Xue smiled. “It’s a bit strong. Your uncle made it to suit my taste. Winter’s coming—you need to protect your skin too. If you like a different scent, just tell your uncle.”

Ying Zheng touched his face, sniffed his hands, and then let out a huge sneeze, finally stopping his hiccups.

Xue couldn’t help but cover her mouth and laugh.

Ying Zheng’s mind seemed to wander again. He sniffed once—“Ah-choo!”—then sniffed again—“Ah-choo!”

Xue pinched his little nose. “Stop sniffing!”

Ying Zheng tilted his face up and whimpered softly, his little hands flailing helplessly.

Xue let go of his nose and laughed so hard she bent over.

Ying Zheng pitifully covered his poor little nose. He didn’t know why Auntie was laughing, but his hands smelled so good… just one more sniff.

“Ah-choo!”

Xue quickly washed the floral-scented cream off his face and hands.

But Ying Zheng mustered his courage and said, “I don’t want to wash it off. I like the nice smell.”

Xue tapped his little nose. “You can’t handle this scent. Ask your uncle to make you a different one.”

Ying Zheng sighed with disappointment.

Xue couldn’t hold back another laugh.

She hugged him tightly and, imitating Zhu Xiang, rubbed her cheek against Ying Zheng’s still-rough little face.

In just ten short days, Zhu Xiang and Xue had not yet managed to fatten up their scrawny chick of a nephew into a soft, round bundle of cuteness.

But even though it had only been ten short days, in Xue’s eyes, Zheng’er had already become the second most adorable child she had ever seen.

After Zhu Xiang made the shea balm for her, Xue began applying it several times a day with great care. It was infused with her favorite scent—the very same fragrance that made Ying Zheng sneeze. Yet strangely, though he’d sneeze at the smell on his own skin, when it was on Xue, he didn’t feel the urge to sneeze. Instead, he felt a comforting sleepiness, like he was about to yawn.

“Sleepy? Go ahead and nap a bit more. Auntie is right here with you. You won’t have any more nightmares.”

Xue sat down by the bed holding Ying Zheng, tucking him under the covers, letting him rest his head on her lap as a pillow.

Curled under the blanket, Zheng’er’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He kept yawning until he eventually drifted into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately, because he left the dream realm early on his own this time, he wouldn’t be able to enter it again until ten days later.

Xue gazed at the boy who had fallen asleep so quickly and couldn’t help but gently stroke his face again.

Then she picked up an old piece of clothing from the bedside and began altering it into a new outfit for Ying Zheng.

She had listened attentively when her husband explained the reasoning behind children wearing hand-me-down clothes.

Children have delicate skin; new clothes can easily cause rashes. Clothes worn for several years by other children have already been proven gentle enough for soft skin.

To ensure these secondhand clothes didn’t carry any illnesses, Zhu Xiang boiled every piece in scalding water before use.

Almost all of the children’s clothes Lin Zhi brought back were made of silk and fine fabric. After being boiled, they wrinkled terribly, and their colors bled into a hideous mess.

But Zhu Xiang insisted. Zheng’er’s health was more important than fancy appearances.

Zhu Xiang always protected and respected Xue so much that outsiders often joked she was the one running their household.

But Xue knew clearly that from childhood to adulthood, it had always been her husband who made the decisions for the family.

She wasn’t actually that smart. Lin Junzi always claimed she was clever and better at handling things than her husband.

But Lin Junzi was wrong.

At first, Xue had been terrified of the noble scholars, utterly clueless about how to interact with people of such high status. Her husband patiently guided her, outlining the personalities of every person she needed to deal with, and taught her how to interact with the nobles and scholars.

“My Xue only needs to straighten her back and put on a stern face—she’ll look like a female Zhuge Liang with a heart full of strategy!”

“Zhuge who?”

“A legendary prime minister who could do everything!—Wait, Xue, don’t hit me! I wasn’t joking!”

“Yes, yes, just like that. Raise your chin slightly and meet their eyes—don’t look away… Xia Tong, come help with this.”

“See? Staring back at Xia Tong isn’t scary at all. Xia Tong, what are you laughing at? Laughing my ass—stop laughing! Be serious!”

“Okay, next step.”

“When they talk to you, respond in a lower voice and speak slowly. If you don’t know what to say, just smile… No, not that much—turn the corners of your mouth down slightly. Yes, that’s the right smile. Hold that smile and let them talk to me instead.”

“If they insist on an answer, just smile without speaking or say: ‘I’ll go with what my husband decides. He knows what’s best.’ Xia Tong, practice again… I said stop laughing—laugh again and I’ll dock your pay!”

As Xue sewed clothes for Ying Zheng, her mind wandered back to those past days.

She glanced at the jade pendant that had slipped out from under Zheng’er’s collar. Maybe she missed the one person who could match her husband in swordplay—their shared friend.

Ever since Xia Tong left, her husband had grown quieter. Not until Zheng’er arrived did he finally begin to smile again each day.

Xue didn’t understand. Lin Junzi should have been closer to her husband, but when her husband was with Lin Junzi, his smiles never seemed as relaxed and carefree as they did with Xia Tong.

When she asked him about it, he replied:

“Because Xia Tong is carefree and unburdened, his future is unwritten. Lin Li is tied to the fate of Zhao. I worry about his future. I want to pull him out of that predestined path… but I know I can’t. He’s the son of Lin Xiangru, after all.”

She didn’t understand.

But whether or not she understood, her husband never brushed her off. Every time she asked something, he would patiently explain.

Remembering all of this, Xue paused her needlework and sighed.

Over the years, she had come to understand.

The King of Zhao was not a good ruler—he constantly took advantage of her husband. A king like that would likely treat even the loyal Lin family poorly. But Prime Minister Lin and Lin Junzi were unfailingly loyal to Zhao, and would never betray him. Her husband saw this clearly, which was why he often sighed on Lin Junzi’s behalf.

That King of Zhao really was no good!

Xue had once been terrified of nobles and couldn’t even imagine saying anything bad about a king.

But now, after hearing Lin Junzi and the others curse him after a few drinks, she had even started daring to internally scold the king herself.

While tidying himself up, Zhu Xiang finally opened the now-activated system.

So excited—rubbing hands together—let’s see what kind of super cool cheat this is!

When the system interface popped up before his eyes, projecting like a HUD screen, and Zhu Xiang saw the pixelated icons, he went silent.

Before activation, Zhu Xiang had already read the system’s functionality. As long as he raised the favorability of historically influential people, he would receive improved crop seeds with every level of affection gained.

In his imagination, once the system started, his consciousness might enter some otherworldly space. Maybe inside would be a giant laurel tree symbolizing fate and connection.

Whenever he befriended a historical figure, a new branch would grow on the tree. When their favorability increased, the tree would bud, bloom, and bear fruit. The seeds he obtained would transform from the leaves, flowers, or fruits of this mystical tree.

He even imagined the space might have a spiritual farm and a spring, maybe even time dilation features. Perhaps even a laboratory suite!

He had a farming system—wouldn’t it be wrong if there wasn’t some kind of farm space?

But what Zhu Xiang never expected was… Laurel tree? Nope. Spatial farm? Dream on.

All the system showed him was a row of pixel avatars, each followed by a crude little heart icon with a favorability score next to it. It looked just like a handheld game from the last century.

Zhu Xiang plopped down onto a cushion and sat in silence for a long time.

What could be more frustrating than a system stuck at 99% activation for five or six years? Of course—it’s finally activated, and he thought he’d get an immersive VR-level cheat, but it turned out to be an 8-bit pixel game! The disappointment nearly made Zhu Xiang dizzy.

After several minutes, he finally pulled himself together and began swiping through the pixel avatars with his thoughts, checking how much favorability he had accumulated.

Surely his favorability was highest with Lin Zhi, right? …Huh? Lin Zhi isn’t even listed?!

Zhu Xiang scowled. “Tiger father, dog son. Tch. Let me see who does have the highest favorability… King Zhuangxiang of Qin? Who the hell is that?!”