HCT – Chapter 120 Cold Cornbread

Li Si stopped grinning foolishly the moment he stepped into the house.

After learning that this meal had been personally prepared by Lord Zhu Xiang, Li Si lost all appetite. He ate in terrified silence.

Once the meal ended, Xunzi, citing old age and frailty, took Han Fei and Li Si back to the Xianyang Academy to continue their work. King Zhu of Qin stayed behind to rest for a day.

After reading the new policy essay submitted by Li Si, King Zhu sighed. “He’s truly talented, but his courage falls a bit short.”

Watching Li Si tremble, pale-faced, as if he were about to faint, even the delicious food Zhu Xiang had cooked lost its flavor in his mouth.

Zhu Xiang said, “It’s his first time meeting Your Majesty. The fact that he managed to finish the meal already shows considerable courage.”

King Zhu replied, “According to my father, when you and Lord Cai first met him, you were both calm and composed.”

Zichu added, “Father, there aren’t many geniuses like Zhu Xiang and Cai Ze in the world.”

Lin Zhi joked, “Why doesn’t Your Majesty praise me? I was calm and composed too.”

King Zhu couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re Lin Xiangru’s son. Can your status be compared to Zhu Xiang and Lord Cai? Of course you weren’t afraid to meet the ruler.”

Lin Zhi sighed dramatically. “It’s all my father’s fault for having such a high reputation. No matter what I accomplish, people just say, ‘As expected of Lin Xiangru’s son.’ Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

King Zhu asked, “Unfair how?”

Lin Zhi answered, “Unfair to my father, who gets credit for nothing.”

King Zhu clenched his cup, barely holding back, then set it down and hurled a jujube at Lin Zhi.

Catching it with a grin, Lin Zhi beamed, “Thank you for the reward, Your Majesty!”

King Zhu scolded playfully, “Get out of here! If only you were more reliable. Did you know my father once suggested appointing you as Chancellor?”

Lin Zhi blinked. “Nope. So Cai Ze stole my chancellorship? I’m going to raid his storehouse tomorrow and take all the good stuff!”

Cai Ze didn’t even bother sparing him a glance.

King Zhu spoke earnestly, “If you were just a bit more composed, I’d make you Chancellor. Can’t you settle down a little?”

Lin Zhi laughed. “This is just how I am. I’m a follower of Laozi and Zhuangzi—what can I do? Besides, being Chancellor sounds exhausting. I’d rather slack off as the Chancellor’s assistant.”

At that, Cai Ze finally gave him a “shut up” look.

King Zhu rubbed his forehead. “I know you don’t care about being Chancellor, but you should understand my father’s expectations of you. Try to tone it down a little.”

Lin Zhi gave a fake cough and said seriously, “I’m quite restrained in court.”

Zhu Xiang looked doubtful. “Really?”

Zichu confirmed, “It’s true. He’s fairly proper in court.”

Zhu Xiang grinned. “You’re making me want to attend court just to see how proper Lin Li actually is.”

Lin Zhi teased, “I’m just afraid you can’t wake up that early.”

Qin King Zhu rubbed his forehead again.

Cai Ze sighed inwardly and changed the topic, bringing up Zhu Xiang’s southern expedition.

To win the trade war with Chu, not only would Zhu Xiang need to push hard in the south, but all of Qin would need to support the effort. Cai Ze also took this chance to send intelligence agents to the other six states to gather information in preparation for military action.

“Lord Lin’s new land tax policy can be trialed in southern Qin first,” said Qin King Zhu. “If it goes well, we’ll implement it in Bashu. If that works too, we’ll extend it to the Qin heartlands. In the meantime, Lord Lin, you’ll have to travel to southern Qin a few more times.”

Lin Zhi smiled. “I’m in good health. That bit of travel is nothing.”

Qin King Zhu added, “It’s not proper for Zhu Xiang to remain without an official title. This time, Zheng’er, you’ll temporarily serve as Prefect of Nan County.”

“Alright.” Ying Zheng nodded, holding a half-eaten jujube.

Zhu Xiang pointed to himself in surprise. “Why is it improper for me to lack a title, but he’s the one who becomes prefect?”

King Zhu replied helplessly, “Do you really think you’ll just stay in Wu County when you get to southern Qin? Won’t you roam around everywhere?”

Zhu Xiang scratched his head. “Uh, fair point.”

King Zhu continued, “Li Mu and Wang Jian are heading south to drill troops. They’ve been asking me to appoint a prefect to share administrative duties. With them protecting him, Zheng’er should be able to manage one county. He’s clever, just lacks experience. Starting with one county is good training.”

Zichu’s expression flickered for a moment. He felt a pang of jealousy.

Ying Zheng put down the jujube, stood up, and bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Qin King Zhu chuckled. “Alright, go back to your jujube.”

Ying Zheng bounced back into his seat and continued gnawing.

His gums itched—his teeth were coming in.

Zhu Xiang hesitated. “But Zheng’er is a prince of Qin. Is it really appropriate for him to serve as a prefect?”

In Qin’s royal family, some distant relatives did serve as local officials, but appointing a prince as a prefect was essentially enfeoffment. Qin had tried this before and suffered rebellion. Now, even if princes held lands, they had no administrative control over them.

Qin King Zhu grinned slyly. “Exactly! That’s why you having no official title is the real issue.”

Realizing Qin King Zhu had circled back, Zhu Xiang thought for a moment, then gave a bitter laugh. “So the prefect in name is still me. But if I have the title, can I still run around freely?”

Qin King Zhu reassured him, “I’ll issue a decree. When you arrive, show it to the other prefects. They’ll understand. Even court officials won’t be able to object.”

If Qin King Zhu appointed Ying Zheng directly in court, opposition would be fierce. But by first making Zhu Xiang the nominal prefect and then secretly giving Xiaozheng the real authority, while Zhu Xiang holds a roaming supervisory role, both could act freely.

Although Zhu Xiang had roamed freely on his last southern mission, it was unofficial. His freedom had depended on the goodwill of local officials and Qin King Zhu’s tolerance. Now, with an official decree, both Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng could operate with far more ease.

Qin King Zhu also had private decrees for Xue Ji and Lu Buwei.

This differeQin nce in governance style was telling. King Zhao of Qin had crushed opposition without hesitation; King Zhu gave the court face in public and did as he pleased in private.

Still autocratic, but more tactful. Zhu Xiang noted silently.

After chatting about the southern campaign, Qin King Zhu took Ying Zheng out for a walk. Zhu Xiang, Zichu, Lin Zhi, and Cai Ze sat down for a game of mahjong.

After a day of fun and games, they returned to their duties. Ying Zheng began preparing for the winter hunt.

When the time came, he boarded a carriage to the forbidden Lishan hunting grounds, carrying a small pouch sewn by his aunt and a lunchbox packed by his uncle.

On his waist hung a short sword, a jade pendant, and a broken jade ring. The sword was from Li Mu, the pendant from Bai Qi, and the ring from Zichu—originally meant for Zhu Xiang.

He patted his chest. Inside his coat was not only leather armor but also a heart-protecting mirror.

With a deep sigh, he muttered like a cranky old man. Was his uncle really worried he’d get assassinated at Lishan?

Lishan was the most frequently used royal hunting ground. If he could be attacked there, then surely his grandfather’s grip on Qin was far too weak.

Wait a second… A strange image flashed in his mind—a memory from a dream. In it, he’d been wandering the hunting grounds at night and encountered bandits?

Staying up at night, only having a few guards, and running into bandits—all sounded absurd.

No way that would happen to him.

But when he arrived at the hunting grounds, he realized that not only was his uncle worried—his grandfather and father were too.

He looked around at the hundred or so black-armored guards surrounding him.

With this many guards, could he even hunt anything?

A big question mark popped up over Ying Zheng’s head.

Then the hunt began, and he realized: this wasn’t about actual hunting.

Ever since Xunzi had redefined royal hunting as a ritual, it had become a pageant.

There was music and oaths before the hunt, a ceremony where the king shot the first prey, and elaborate rules for rewarding warriors. It was all so complicated that Ying Zheng nearly nodded off.

Sure, if he focused, he could remember all the rules—but after bumping around in a carriage for so long, who had the patience to sit through a lecture first?

Still, thanks to Xunzi’s additions, the hunt felt more solemn. The king and ministers seemed quite satisfied.

“Zheng’er, don’t doze off,” said Zichu, letting him nap on his shoulder. When the real event started, he woke him gently.

Ying Zheng straightened up immediately, stifling a yawn and putting on a serious, mature expression.

Zichu, speechless, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the drool from the boy’s chin.

“Hold the bow steady. As long as the arrow flies, it’s a success,” Zichu said. “No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!” Ying Zheng declared.

Just shooting an arrow—easy!

He strode out confidently to take King Zhu’s place and fire the first shot.

Then he looked at the tiny toy bow in his hands… and the tiger in the distance that had already become a mere speck.

A massive question mark appeared over his head.

Grandfather, are you messing with me? How am I supposed to hit that?

Ying Zheng sighed inwardly. So this was what the ritual was about.

With a determined expression, he pulled the little toy bow to full draw and let the small arrow fly.

There was only one arrow in his quiver. As soon as the arrow was shot, someone quickly shouted with excitement, “Young Lord Zheng hit the tiger!”

Immediately, the ministers burst into cheers and congratulations.

Ying Zheng’s face showed a proud expression. King Zhu of Qin laughed heartily, lifted Ying Zheng into his arms and gave him a little toss: “As expected of my good grandson! So brave and fierce!”

Zichu displayed a modest, restrained pride. The other ministers all praised him, flattery flowing like a stream.

Ying Zheng continued to hold his proud expression, accepting the compliments from the ministers with ease. As the ministers looked on, calculations started forming in their minds.

“Young Lord Zheng is so young yet so calm. Remarkable.”

“Even if he was told in advance, that performance is still quite impressive.”

“When he picked up the bow, I saw a flicker of confusion—maybe His Majesty didn’t tell him beforehand?”

“That shouldn’t be, right? Even if it’s a test, it shouldn’t be during Young Lord Zheng’s first time participating in a ceremony alone.”

“No matter what, his performance was excellent. His Majesty achieved his goal.”

The ministers whispered among themselves, and the way they looked at Young Lord Zheng subtly changed.

Though Ying Zheng’s intelligence had been rumored for years, he had never displayed his talents publicly in Xianyang. Most people were still skeptical of his reputation.

High-ranking nobles knew he had already begun studying official documents, but the lower-ranking ones only knew he had an impressive uncle.

Even though two generations of Qin kings had tirelessly spread his name, seeing is believing. Without witnessing his extraordinary qualities firsthand, others would not be convinced.

Now, King Zhu of Qin had finally found an opportunity to show off Ying Zheng’s composure and maturity.

Truthfully, the ministers had believed he was likely intelligent—after all, he was Zhu Xiang’s nephew and had great teachers like Xunzi.

But being clever doesn’t necessarily mean one is suitable to inherit the Qin throne. It was only after witnessing Ying Zheng’s calm demeanor (and remarkable acting skills) that they realized—this young prince truly was different.

Ying Zheng leaned close to King Zhu’s ear and whispered, “Grandfather, why didn’t you tell me beforehand? I was scared when I saw such a tiny bow!”

King Zhu looked puzzled. “Tell you what?”

Ying Zheng said, “That I wasn’t really supposed to hit the target!”

King Zhu looked even more confused. “You’re only a child! How could I possibly expect you to actually go hunting?”

Ying Zheng: “…”

Grandfather, sometimes… aren’t you just a little unreliable? This kind of thing—you really should’ve told me.

Zichu held back a laugh and said, “His Majesty trusts you.”

Ying Zheng looked at Zichu speechlessly. He didn’t bother asking his father directly. His grandfather might genuinely trust him, but Father, were you doing this on purpose to watch me embarrass myself?

What good would it do you if I made a fool of myself in front of everyone? It would only be bad!

…Fine.

Maybe Father also trusted him. But Ying Zheng still decided—once they got home, he was going to tell on him to Uncle. Let Uncle chase Father around and give him a good beating.

As for whether Uncle could actually win the fight… Ying Zheng wasn’t too sure.

“You want to hunt?” King Zhu finally understood Ying Zheng’s thinking—though he misunderstood it. “Then go ahead. You’ll be protected. A bit of fun won’t hurt. How can a Qin prince not know how to hunt? Just be careful.”

Ying Zheng looked at Zichu: “Father, you can hunt? You can even draw a bow?”

Zichu: “?”

This unfilial child—do you want a beating?

King Zhu defended Ying Zheng, saying, “Your father can still draw a bow.”

Ying Zheng rubbed his face and put on an adoring expression, drawing out his voice: “Father, you’re amazing!”

Zichu: “…”

This unfilial child! Do you want a beating!!

After teasing his father, Ying Zheng switched to a bow and arrows suited to his size, mounted his horse, and happily set off to hunt.

Having studied under generals Lian Po and Li Mu, his skills in both archery and horseback riding were top-notch for his age.

The animals in the royal hunting grounds were all bred in captivity and fairly tame—it shouldn’t be hard to bring back a few rabbits for his uncle and aunt.

That was what Ying Zheng thought at first. But once he set off, things quickly got out of his control.

He was soon surrounded by cousins he didn’t recognize, all acting warm and affectionate as if they’d known each other forever.

Ying Zheng was stunned for a long moment before remembering—ah yes, he had a bunch of cousins.

In his past life, he didn’t return to Qin until after King Zhao of Qin had passed. He only reigned for three or four years before becoming king, and had barely interacted with his cousins.

After returning to Qin, he focused entirely on learning the language, script, and etiquette. Before he even completed his training, he became the crown prince—no time to get close to his kin. 

For three years afterward, he studied behind closed doors daily, hoping to become a qualified heir.

But before he could fully master everything, his father passed away, and he found himself bewilderedly sitting on the Qin throne.

After becoming king, there was no way he could freely socialize with his cousins.

In this life, he returned to Qin earlier, but since he was so young—and because he and his father essentially snatched a position from other sons and grandsons of the royal family—his great-grandfather never introduced him to the other royal children.

Ying Zheng suspected it also had something to do with great-grandfather being wary of his uncle.

After realizing that Ying Zheng was far more mature than his peers, the great-grandfather began to focus all efforts on cultivating him. The cousins who couldn’t keep up were deemed unnecessary to engage with.

In Qin, princes had to earn military merit to gain status—so familial affection among brothers was thin, with most seeing each other as rivals. There was no need to build ties early.

King Zhu had no intention of introducing Ying Zheng to his cousins—though he didn’t go as far as King Zhao had in deliberately isolating him from the royal clan.

He believed Ying Zheng had grown enough to judge people for himself and choose his own companions.

Ying Zheng had a massive headache.

Why didn’t anyone tell him ahead of time? He could’ve at least memorized their names! Now, faced with a bunch of strangers, he had no idea how to keep the conversation going.

Looks like there wouldn’t be any real hunting today.

Ying Zheng perked up and dealt with the cousins’ enthusiastic greetings and subtle probing.

King Zhu, still observing mourning customs, didn’t join the hunt. Zichu kept him company in the main tent, waiting for news from the hunters.

“Not introducing Zheng’er to his cousins beforehand—won’t it be difficult for him to interact with them?” Zichu asked worriedly. “It’s meant to be a challenge, but isn’t this a bit much?”

King Zhu laughed. “Not telling him is exactly the point. Zheng’er handles everything so well—if we don’t throw him a few surprises, there’s no tempering his abilities.”

Zichu said, “But what if Zheng’er doesn’t handle it well…”

King Zhu interrupted: “You expect too much of him. He’s just a little child. It’s normal if he doesn’t do everything perfectly.”

Zichu gave a bitter smile. “I’m just worried he’ll complain to Zhu Xiang afterward—and then Zhu Xiang will come yelling at me.”

King Zhu said, “So what if Zhu Xiang yells at you? It won’t hurt you. Yell back.”

Zichu: “…”

He suspected His Majesty just wanted to see him get into trouble—maybe even watch Zhu Xiang chase him with a sword again.

“No need to worry, Your Majesty,” said Lin Zhi with a smile. “Zheng’er’s traveled the world with Zhu Xiang for years. He’s met all kinds of people. He’ll know how to handle strangers.”

“But,” he added, “Zheng’er might not get to enjoy the hunt properly.”

King Zhu chuckled. “He’s still young. There’ll be plenty of chances to hunt again. Lin Qing, why didn’t you join the hunt?”

Lin Zhi replied solemnly: “I revere nature and cannot bear to kill.”

King Zhu replied helplessly, “Tell the truth.”

Lin Zhi relaxed his expression: “Too lazy to go.”

King Zhu covered his face with his hand and turned to Zichu: “You need to keep Lin Qing in line!”

Zichu: “…”

I’m not his elder. How could I keep him in line? Even you, the King of Qin, can’t manage him!

Zichu sighed. “Yes, I’ll try.”

As they were chatting, a guard rushed into the tent and knelt down to report: “Young Lord Zheng was attacked by an assassin. The assassin has been executed!”

King Zhu was furious. “What?! Is Zheng’er hurt?”

Zichu and the other court officials who hadn’t gone hunting all stood up in alarm.

The guard said, “Young Lord Zheng is unharmed.”

He paused, then added—though the king hadn’t asked, he felt this detail must be reported: “It was Young Lord Zheng who captured the assassin with his own hands.”

Ying Zheng’s uncle, father, and grandfather were all left speechless—like wooden statues.

Ying Zheng, surrounded by a crowd of cousins, was heading toward a small grove.

He looked around and sighed, “Cousins, if you all follow me, I might not be able to catch anything.”

The cousins all said they only came to get to know him—they weren’t interested in hunting.

Ying Zheng howled inwardly: But I want to hunt! I promised my uncle I’d bring back a rabbit! If I fail, he’ll definitely make fun of me!

He sighed to himself and said, “It’s getting late. Shall we eat by the river first?”

Once they were full, he’d find an excuse to leave! Having a meal with this group was already giving them enough face.

Ying Zheng suddenly envied his past self—who returned to Qin, became the crown prince, and then the king shortly after. No need to deal with these social niceties.

When he invited them to dine together, the royal descendants readily agreed. Since ancient times, eating together had always been the best way to build rapport.

The guards chose a flat spot by the river, lit a bonfire, and began boiling water and roasting dried meat.

During the hunt, the warriors were only allowed to bring dry rations—no luxuries. To eat meat, they had to hunt it themselves.

When the others saw Ying Zheng bring out a large lunchbox, they felt a bit resentful. Was the king being biased again, letting only this one eat something good?

Ying Zheng opened one layer of the box and took out pancakes, seasonings, and dried meat slices.

“Young Lord Zheng… is that all you’re eating?” a guard couldn’t help but ask. “Just pancakes? No dried meat?”

Ying Zheng looked at the one who dared speak to him: “Dried meat?”

The guard immediately introduced himself: “Subordinate Meng Tian, personal guard assigned to the young lord by His Majesty. Now that the mourning period is over, you may eat meat. Dried meat can be cooked into broth—it’s very tasty. Would you like to try some?”

Ying Zheng said, “No need. I’ll just eat what I brought.”

He placed the pancake in his small bowl, added seasonings and dried meat slices, and asked Meng Tian to pour hot water over it before covering it with a lid. Then he took out a second box and pulled out some osmanthus cakes to munch on.

With fresh osmanthus collected recently, of course Zhu Xiang had prepared osmanthus cakes for him.

As for dried meat, Zhu Xiang figured if Ying Zheng wanted any, he could ask King Qin or Zichu. No need to waste lunchbox space on such common stuff.

Zhu Xiang had complained—why did the king insist on limiting lunchbox size and ban him from preparing a feast for Ying Zheng?

As soon as Ying Zheng opened the cake box, everyone’s noses twitched.

The osmanthus cake, sprinkled with sugar osmanthus on top and infused with syrup throughout the rice flour, smelled heavenly. Its fragrance even overpowered the scent of burning firewood.

“What is that…”

Ying Zheng glanced down at the pastry in his hand: “Uncle made it. Osmanthus cake is dry food too.”

The cousins all looked down at their own cold millet buns.

Ying Zheng explained, “It’s just cooked rice flour mixed with osmanthus flowers. No different from what you’re eating.”

The cousins sniffed the air and looked again at their dry, bland buns.

Really? We don’t believe you.