HCT – Chapter 155 Apple Peels Sliced with a Knife

Zhu Xiang was lying on the large bed in the boat cabin. “Zheng’er.”

Ying Zheng was peeling an apple with a small dagger. “What is it?”

Zhu Xiang said weakly, “Why are you putting apple peels in front of me?”

Still focused on the fruit, Ying Zheng replied, “You nag me every day to rest and take care of myself, but then you overwork yourself until you collapse. A maternal uncle like you only deserves to eat apple peels.”

Zhu Xiang: “…”

Once again, he sighed inwardly. Children are hard to handle once they grow up.

Ying Zheng placed a small plate on Zhu Xiang’s chest and piled it high with apple peels, then looked up and stared at him.

Behind him, Meng Tian was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Could the young master really be trying to make Lord Zhu Xiang eat the apple peels?

Zhu Xiang smiled helplessly, slowly sat up, and actually reached for the peels.

Ying Zheng quickly stopped him, scolding, “Uncle, you know I’m just being petty!”

Zhu Xiang said, “Mm, I know. But the apple peels are pretty tasty. Can’t let them go to waste.”

Ying Zheng’s expression flickered for a moment, then he snatched the plate away and shoved it into Meng Tian’s hands.

Zhu Xiang watched as Ying Zheng cut up the peeled apples into pieces, carefully stuck bamboo skewers into them, then handed them over with a stern face.

Zhu Xiang smiled. “Thank you, Zheng’er.”

“Hmph!” Ying Zheng snorted heavily through his nose, picked up a bamboo scroll nearby, and turned his face away in mock anger.

Although paper existed now, bamboo scrolls remained sturdier and more durable. Those who could read weren’t short on money, so books were still habitually carved on bamboo and wooden slips. Paper was used mainly for everyday documents and letters.

“The boat’s rocking too much, it’s too dark in the cabin, and the writing on the scrolls is too small—” Before Zhu Xiang could finish his grumble, Ying Zheng stuffed an apple chunk into his mouth.

“Uncle, please just focus on recovering. Until you’re better, I don’t want to hear you nagging.”

Meng Tian, watching from the side, was still sweating nervously.

He had never seen anyone treat an ill elder this way.

But if someone were to claim that the young master was unfilial or had a poor relationship with Lord Zhu Xiang, it wouldn’t seem true either.

This strange scene made Meng Tian feel out of place. Yet Lord Zhu Xiang didn’t correct Ying Zheng’s behavior—he let him be as willful as he liked.

Even stranger was that Ying Zheng himself knew he was being willful, but carried on regardless.

Meng Tian couldn’t figure out their way of interacting. The more he observed, the stranger it seemed.

As a close attendant, Meng Tian felt obligated to advise the young master. With his elder still bedridden, the young master ought to act less spoiled. If he truly had complaints, he should wait until the elder recovered.

After snapping at Zhu Xiang, Ying Zheng didn’t return to reading. Instead, he peeled another apple for Zhu Xiang. When Zhu Xiang finally said he didn’t want to eat anymore, Ying Zheng brought over some cakes, dried meat, and preserved fruits, and placed them into a box.

“If you want to eat, just help yourself.” He placed the snack box beside Zhu Xiang’s pillow. “When we reach the next dock, I’ll have the boat stop for a bit. You can take a walk on shore. That’ll help you recover faster.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Alright.”

He closed his eyes to rest.

Ying Zheng stretched, squeezed in next to Zhu Xiang, and leaned against him to nap as well.

Zhu Xiang shifted slightly, pulled up a corner of the blanket to cover Ying Zheng, and didn’t tell him to sleep elsewhere—for fear of “passing on the sickness.”

It wasn’t the flu, just exhaustion. It wouldn’t infect Ying Zheng.

Meng Tian had been preparing to give Ying Zheng a piece of his mind, but now that the boy had curled up next to Zhu Xiang and fallen asleep, he could only quietly take his leave.

“I’ll stand guard outside. Call me if Lord Zhu Xiang or the young master wakes,” Meng Tian told the servants.

He stepped onto the deck, let the wind blow over him, then sighed deeply.

Although the young master and Lord Zhu Xiang interacted in an odd way, the young master was truly attentive. Probably, even the most filial sons in ordinary households wouldn’t go this far.

“Maybe it’s just because they’re too close. It doesn’t feel like a parent-child relationship,” Meng Tian murmured, with a hint of envy in his heart.

Zhu Xiang rarely fell ill, but once he did, recovery came slowly.

It was as though this illness had dragged out all the exhaustion he’d buried in his body over the years, forcing him to finally rest.

After they docked, Zichu couldn’t leave the palace in Xianyang, so Cai Ze came to greet Zhu Xiang.

The moment Cai Ze saw Zhu Xiang’s sickly face, he was so shocked he lost his composure. When he found out it was merely exhaustion, he rolled up his sleeves and gave Zhu Xiang a few hard smacks on the head.

“You knew the work wouldn’t end, and still didn’t know how to balance labor and rest? Collapsing like this causes more problems! These are the very words you’ve used to lecture Zheng’er and Zichu—why don’t you take your own advice?!”

Ying Zheng nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly!”

Zhu Xiang gave a bitter smile. “I overestimated myself… cough cough.”

He feigned weakness, hoping to deflect Cai Ze’s fury.

He had a hunch—returning to Xianyang in this condition, his head and ears were in for a rough time.

Sure enough—

When Zhu Xiang returned to Xianyang, Zichu made a point to greet him at the city gates.

The moment the sneaky-looking Zichu spotted Zhu Xiang being helped off the carriage, he came rushing over, stumbling and flustered—just like Ying Zheng had when he’d first heard that Zhu Xiang had collapsed.

“You say I give you trouble, but look who’s causing worry now!” Zichu had a stomach full of things to say, but in the end, this was all he could blurt out.

“It won’t happen again… No, I mean, there won’t be a next time.” Zhu Xiang quickly apologized.

When the much older Xunzi arrived, supported by a young disciple, Zhu Xiang immediately raised his hands over his head defensively.

“Xunzi, I’m still recovering—wait until I’m better before hitting me!”

Xunzi slammed his cane on the ground. “Who wants to hit you?! Just go rest already!”

Zhu Xiang bowed and nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, right away.”

He moved so fast that it made him dizzy again.

Zichu and Cai Ze each supported him from one side.

“The villa outside the city’s already been cleaned and prepared. Go recover there,” said Zichu. “His Majesty said when you return, he wants to go there to recover too. I’ll ask him if he wants to go with you now.”

Zhu Xiang smiled wryly. “I’m afraid His Majesty will give me a scolding too.”

Zichu replied, “As long as you understand.”

After escorting Zhu Xiang to the villa, Zichu hurried back to the palace to report.

When King Zhu of Qin heard that Zhu Xiang had fallen ill, he was so startled that he instantly perked up. He even got onto the carriage by himself without needing assistance.

Zichu helped pack the king’s luggage and visited Queen  Huayang and the young prince before leaving the palace.

Queen  Huayang had originally planned to bring her grandson along to care for the king.

But even while bedridden, King Zhu continued managing state affairs. The worse his illness got, the more wary he became of people around him meddling with Qin’s affairs. Even though Queen  Huayang had never interfered in politics, the king still distrusted her and forbade her from attending to him, for fear she might seize a chance to gain influence.

Queen  Huayang remained obedient. She occasionally sent gifts to show concern, but never cried or insisted on serving the king herself.

Her quiet example made the other palace beauties, who had been sobbing and begging to serve the king, fall silent as well.

When the king fell ill and Crown Prince Zichu moved into the palace ahead of time, Lady Xia Ji’s thoughts began to stir once more.

She led her people to visit Crown Princess Zhao Ji, who remained under house arrest.

If Zichu took the throne, Zhao Ji would become queen. Though Zichu didn’t seem fond of Zhao Ji, she was still Ying Zheng’s biological mother and sister to Lord Changping. Once she became queen, she would surely be freed.

In the future, there would be two Queen s in the palace. Xia Ji hoped to join forces with Zhao Ji to suppress Queen Huayang and take charge of the inner palace together.

Xia Ji didn’t harbor any malicious intent. She simply believed that there needed to be a female head of Zichu’s harem, and she didn’t trust Queen Huayang. Only she and Zhao Ji, who were blood-related to Zichu and Zheng’er, could be truly sincere toward Zichu.

As for the mistakes Zhao Ji had made in the past and her years of house arrest, Xia Ji believed Zhao Ji had already realized her errors.

Zheng’er was living well now, so he surely wouldn’t resent Zhao Ji anymore.

It wasn’t just Xia Ji who thought this way—this was the prevailing opinion among the nobility.

How could there be lasting resentment between a mother and son? Besides, Zhao Ji hadn’t exactly abandoned Prince Zheng—she had entrusted him to Lord Zhu Xiang’s care, which wasn’t the same.

As for Zhao Ji running off with another man after Zichu left Qin, the public wasn’t aware of that. They simply thought she had gone into hiding out of fear for her life in Zhao.

Zhao Ji’s only mistake, in their eyes, was not fleeing with Prince Zheng. But since she had entrusted him to Lord Zhu Xiang, that decision could be seen as rational.

Very few people knew that Zhao Ji had once abandoned Zhu Xiang. Even among those who did, most believed that a magnanimous and kind person like Lord Zhu Xiang would have long since forgiven her.

A saintly man like Lord Zhu Xiang must deeply value blood ties—perhaps he had already wanted to reconcile with Zhao Ji.

Once Zhao Ji became queen, she would likely mend her relationships with the King of Qin, the Crown Prince, and Lord Changping. Then, the family would be harmonious, and Zhao Ji would become one of the most influential nobles in Qin.

Wouldn’t it be foolish not to curry favor with Zhao Ji now, before she rose to power?

So, as Xia Ji went to visit Zhao Ji, the entrance of Zhao Ji’s courtyard was soon crowded with gift-bearers.

Even that foolish brother of Queen Huayang, Lord Yangquan, tried to send Zhao Ji gifts and advised Queen Huayang to do the same. That way, once Zichu ascended the throne, her days would continue to be smooth.

While sewing clothes for the recently returned Ying Zheng, Queen Huayang replied without looking up, “I know I’m not clever. My entire life of glory and wealth came from the king. He knows that too, which is why he always clearly instructs me on what to do. The king has told me many times never to get close to Zhao Ji, so I will not get close to Zhao Ji.”

Queen Huayang ran her hand over the garment in her lap, wondering if it needed to be made larger.

“If the king ever wanted me to approach Zhao Ji, he would say so himself. But even if he did, I still wouldn’t,” she added sharply. “That venomous woman nearly got Xue Ji killed. Xue Ji is my only friend.”

Lord Yangquan, for once, showed a rare bit of intelligence.

He knew that Lord Changping and his wife shared a deep love, and that she was Prince Zheng’s foster mother. If Zhao Ji truly had a grudge against Lady Changping, then it wouldn’t be wise for him to suddenly align himself with Zhao Ji.

“Forget it, I’ll support neither side,” said Lord Yangquan.

Queen Huayang scolded, “What do you mean, ‘support neither side’? If you get the chance, go befriend Lord Changping and learn from him! Between Xia Ji, Zhao Ji, who could ever compare with Lord Changping in the hearts of Zichu and Zheng’er? I’m the queen, I can’t associate with outside officials—but you can!”

Lord Yangquan stammered, “I-I don’t dare. Every time I go, Lord Changping asks what I’ve been reading.”

Enraged, Queen Huayang set aside her needlework, grabbed the measuring tape, and began chasing her brother around to beat him.

Lord Yangquan fled in panic, covering his head.

He knew he was in the wrong, but he truly didn’t like studying.

Every time, Lord Changping would ask him gently what books he’d read that day, how much calligraphy he’d practiced, whether he’d trained in martial arts, and would even invite him to attend Xunzi’s lectures together. How could he not avoid him?

Why couldn’t they all just watch performances, listen to music, and play drinking games instead?

Lord Changping was completely out of step with the other nobles of his generation—everyone in Xianyang City knew that!

After Queen Huayang had chased him around, Lord Yangquan no longer sent gifts to Zhao Ji.

Rumors began to circulate that Queen Huayang looked down on Zhao Ji, and that the two would inevitably clash in the future.

Now that Zhao Ji was finally enjoying her moment in the sun, she couldn’t help but feel bitter upon hearing that Queen Huayang despised her.

“Everyone in Xianyang is watching to see what kind of conflict will arise between Queen Huayang and Zhao Ji,” said Cai Ze, briefing Zhu Xiang on the current palace atmosphere. “Because His Majesty and the Crown Prince have deliberately let things play out, tension in the palace is extremely high.”

Zhu Xiang rubbed his forehead. “Don’t mention Zhao Ji. Just thinking about her gives me a headache.”

Seeing his attitude of total resignation, Cai Ze’s mouth twitched.

“If you don’t handle her before Zichu ascends the throne, are you going to leave her to Zheng’er?” Cai Ze said with displeasure. “Even if Zheng’er doesn’t soften, it’s still his biological mother. Whatever he does will violate filial piety.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Isn’t Zhao Ji Zichu’s wife? Naturally, Zichu should handle her. I’m just a brother she’s already disowned and cast out—how could I interfere in an outsider’s affairs?”

Cai Ze was speechless.

It wasn’t that Zichu couldn’t handle her—he was just being considerate of Zhu Xiang.

Cai Ze, seizing the moment while the King of Qin and Zichu were still away, said bluntly, “If not for his concern for you, Zichu would’ve had Zhao Ji declared dead from illness long ago.”

Zhu Xiang fell silent, looking even more exhausted.

He loathed Zhao Ji, but he couldn’t take her life.

Moreover, Zhao Ji was Zheng’er’s birth mother. Even if Zheng’er disliked her, he likely wouldn’t want to see her killed.

Zhu Xiang had hoped that after so many years of confinement, Zhao Ji would learn to behave herself and understand that keeping a low profile was the key to freedom. But she turned out to be so resilient—give her an inch of sunshine, and she’d blaze with radiance, becoming even more unrestrained.

Zhu Xiang truly envied her optimistic spirit. If only he could be so blissfully stupid, he’d be happy every day.

But the people around him wouldn’t be.

“Zhao Ji suffered a lot in Zhao and has always had poor health. Since she was named queen, she’s been living in a separate palace to recover and won’t be staying with Xiatong and Zheng’er,” Zhu Xiang sighed. “With Queen Huayang and Xia in the palace, they’re more than enough to manage the harem.”

Cai Ze said, “Now that you’ve hardened your heart, I can rest easy.”

Zichu and Zhu Xiang had the same intention—to keep Zhao Ji confined, never to appear before Zheng’er again.

Zichu even feared she’d outlive him, so he had already arranged with King Qin Zhu: they each prepared an imperial decree, both stating that Zhao Ji would guard the royal tombs and that no future King of Qin should ever release her.

If not for concern over Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er’s reputations, Zichu would’ve already sent her off with a cup of poison.

Unfortunately, in order to preserve appearances for Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er, Zhao Ji, though imprisoned, was still being well-fed and cared for—and had even gained considerable weight.

If Zhao Ji were willing to behave, she could live out her days peacefully, even if she never left her courtyard.

Most women in the palace rarely left their courtyards anyway—Zhao Ji’s restrictions weren’t even that harsh.

But since she wasn’t willing to behave, her life would no longer be so comfortable.

One more reason Zichu kept her alive was that Zhao Ji, as Queen of Qin, helped stabilize Ying Zheng’s status.

But once she’d served that purpose, her life would no longer have any value.

Zhu Xiang rubbed his forehead and sighed again, changing the topic: “I heard Lin Li has returned to Xianyang. He’s not here yet?”

Cai Ze replied, “He couldn’t sit still. On his way back, he stopped to visit Lord Lian, then went to Zhao to try and persuade the King of Zhao to let Lord Xinling guard the border.”

Zhu Xiang lowered his hand, puzzled. “It’s been a whole year—Lord Xinling still hasn’t persuaded the King of Zhao?”

Cai Ze said, “Aside from Qin, the monarchs of the other six states rarely allow foreign princes to hold military power.”

Zhu Xiang thought for a moment—this was indeed the case.

While it was normal for nobles from other states to seek official posts, Lord Xinling was the younger brother of the King of Wei and had an extremely close relationship with him. For such a prince to hold military power in a foreign state naturally aroused suspicion and caution in other monarchs.

It was Qin that was the odd one out.

Zhu Xiang said, “I’ve grown too used to Qin’s ways and gave him a rotten suggestion.”

Cai Ze replied irritably, “You only just realized it was a rotten suggestion? Still, if this rotten idea really comes to fruition, it wouldn’t be so bad. Right now, the King of Zhao is probably about to give in.”

Zhu Xiang asked curiously, “What’s going on in Zhao?”

Cai Ze said, “It’s the aftermath of Lord Lian’s campaign against Yan.”

Back then, Zhao was suffering a famine. In order to keep more of the Zhao people alive, General Lian Po practically reduced the cities he captured in Yan to scorched earth, seizing vast amounts of grain and bringing it back to Zhao.

Although the state of Yan didn’t collapse afterward, it was severely weakened. The King of Yan soon died, overwhelmed by grief and depression.

The new King of Yan immediately used hatred of Zhao as a rallying point to unify his people and stabilize the state.

The six states—Qin included, but not Zhao—were happy to see a revived Yan that hated Zhao, so they secretly supported Yan in many ways.

As a result, Yan quickly recovered, and frequent skirmishes broke out along its border with Zhao.

“Now Yan thinks it has regained its strength and wants to avenge its humiliation by attacking Zhao. Zhao has no great generals left, only an old man of little renown commanding their forces—and he still managed to defeat Yan,” Cai Ze said with undisguised contempt, almost calling Yan useless. “But Zhao’s forces have been significantly depleted, and it’s hard for them to sustain the expenses of the three northern commanderies.”

Even Zhu Xiang couldn’t help laughing. “The King of Zhao can’t even afford the northern commanderies and wants Lord Xinling to fund and defend the border himself?”

Cai Ze said, “After Lord Xinling went to Zhao, the King of Wei revoked his fief, but the King of Zhao compensated him with one of equal value. Perhaps the King of Zhao now wants to exchange that fief for the northern commanderies.”

Zhu Xiang rolled his eyes hard. “He really thinks big.”

Cai Ze said, “Even if he doesn’t think that way, Lin Zhi will make him think that way. Lin Zhi is, after all, the son of Lin Xiangru. Though he’s now the Chancellor of Qin, the people of Zhao believe he still cares deeply for Zhao.”

Cai Ze sighed, then continued, “Besides, his actions really are for Zhao’s sake. Aside from Lord Xinling, who else can defend Zhao’s borders? It’s only been a few years, and the northern tribes are stirring again. Does Zhao want to let the nomads invade? That would be even more humiliating than being destroyed by Qin.”

Even though the five central states looked down on Qin and Chu, they still considered them “one of us,” unlike the nomads. No matter how foolish a king might be, he would never allow the nomads to take part in the struggle for Central Plains supremacy. Expelling the nomads had always been a key military concern.

So when Zhao could no longer hold the northern commanderies, it was highly likely they’d let Lord Xinling find a solution.

With his reputation and talents, Lord Xinling really was the only one who could defend Zhao’s northern border without becoming a burden.

While Cai Ze and Zhu Xiang were discussing Lord Xinling, Lin Zhi had already met him.

“These are Li Mu’s notes on managing Yanmen Commandery, along with letters he wrote to key commanders there,” Lin Zhi solemnly handed over a lacquered box to Lord Xinling. “I came here to make sure you can take up this task.”

Wei Wuji took the heavy box and sighed. “Zhu Xiang has troubled himself again.”

Lin Zhi raised an eyebrow. “He brought it on himself. He’s not doing it just for you. Even though Zhu Xiang lives in Qin, his heart still holds concern for the people of Zhao.”

Wei Wuji asked, “And what about you?”

Lin Zhi said, “Though I owe Zhao far more than Zhu Xiang does, I don’t care about its people as much as he does. We scholars, wherever we serve, that is our country.”

Wei Wuji felt uncomfortable at those words but couldn’t refute them—because Lin Zhi was telling the truth.

“But Zhu Xiang trusts you,” Lin Zhi continued, “and I’m curious whether you can truly defend the northern commanderies. The King of Zhao will surely cut support. You’ll have to manage them like Li Mu did—raiding the northern tribes for supplies. You, a pampered noble prince, can you really do that?”

Wei Wuji wasn’t angered by the provocation. He replied calmly, “I don’t know.”

Lin Zhi raised his brow again. “Oh?”

Wei Wuji said, “I’ve never done it before, so I don’t know. All I know is, when I decide to do something, I do my utmost to succeed.”

Lin Zhi said, “So even if you fail, you will have given it your all?”

Wei Wuji replied, “Yes.”

Lin Zhi nodded. “Then I’m reassured.”

He bowed. “Please await good news, Lord Xinling.”

After visiting Lord Xinling, Lin Zhi went to the residence of Lord Pingyang, Zhao Bao.

Zhao Bao was extremely old and bedridden.

But upon hearing Lin Zhi had come personally, he forced himself up and met him at the door.

“Lord Lin…” Zhao Bao clutched Lin Zhi’s hands, tears streaming down his face, “You’ve come back, Lord Lin.”

Lin Zhi calmly looked at him for a moment, then sighed. “Lord Pingyang, it’s me, Lin Zhi—not my father.”

Zhao Bao froze for a second, then wept like a child.

His son awkwardly wiped his tears and explained, “Father’s a little muddled. Chancellor Lin, please don’t take offense.”

“How could I blame him? Lord Pingyang is my elder,” Lin Zhi said. “It’s me—Lin Zhi—who has returned. I’ve come for Lord Xinling’s sake.”

Zhao Bao cried for a long time. His eyes gradually cleared.

He stared blankly at Lin Zhi. “Lin Zhi… yes, Lin Zhi. Why have you come? Have you angered Lord Lin again? I told you to dress properly and stop being idle. I’ll go speak with His Majesty and get you an official post…”

Lin Zhi knelt before him, placing a hand gently on his. “Lord Pingyang, I’m already Chancellor of Qin.”

Zhao Bao froze again.

After a long pause, his face twisted in pain. “That’s right… you’re Qin’s Chancellor. I remember now.”

Zhao Bao was finally completely lucid.

He stared intently at Lin Zhi, then averted his eyes in anguish. “You, the Chancellor of Qin—what are you doing in Handan?”

Lin Zhi said, “Zhu Xiang cares for the people of Zhao and hopes Lord Xinling can defend the northern commanderies to prevent them from being slaughtered by the nomads.”

Zhao Bao said, “I see. Then the King of Zhao must make up his mind. I’ll give him one last push.”

Lin Zhi bowed. “Thank you, Lord Pingyang.”

Zhao Bao turned back to him. “Zhu Xiang still cares for Zhao. And you?”

Lin Zhi replied, “As a scholar, I do not care for the common people as much as Zhu Xiang does.”

Zhao Bao asked, “If not for the people, do you still care for the state of Zhao?”

A smile, faint and unreadable, touched Lin Zhi’s lips. “My father cared for Zhao, but I loathe the King of Zhao.”

Zhao Bao closed his eyes. “I understand. You may go.”

Lin Zhi said, “I only loathe the King, not the state. I came to Handan so that before Zhao is conquered by Qin, it won’t be overrun by nomads. If Qin destroys Zhao, that’s unifying the realm. If the nomads do it, that’s shame.”

He stood and turned to leave without waiting for a send-off.

After a while, Zhao Bao opened his eyes and sighed. “Indeed.”

His son stood by, eyes lowered in sorrow.

When lucid, his father exhausted himself for the King of Zhao. When confused, he searched for his older brother, Lord Pingyuan, for Lord Lin Xiangru, for General Lian Po. And if he got even more confused, he would try to find Lin Xiangru, claiming there was a great talent named Zhu Xiang in his household that needed to be recommended to his brother and the King.

His son couldn’t tell whether his father suffered more when he was clear-headed or when he was lost in the past.

After Zhao Bao, Lin Zhi visited other ministers and royal relatives in Zhao.

Soon, the fact that the Chancellor of Qin had come to Handan became an open secret.

When the King of Zhao heard, he hesitated for a long time but ultimately followed his heart and summoned Lin Zhi to court.

Lin Zhi went without fear, completely unafraid that the King of Zhao would detain him.

Qin didn’t especially need him—but if Zhao dared detain Qin’s Chancellor, Qin’s armies would once again appear outside Handan’s gates.

The King of Zhao, with sunken cheeks and jutting cheekbones, stared at Lin Zhi for a while, then said, “You look more and more like Lord Lin.”

Lin Zhi replied respectfully, “I am my father’s son—it’s only natural.”

The King of Zhao asked, “Are you now Qin’s Lin Xiangru?”

Lin Zhi replied, “No. Qin has no need for a Lin Xiangru.”

Seeing the King’s confusion, Lin Zhi explained, “Zhao is weaker than Qin. My father exhausted himself so Zhao could survive Qin’s might. But Qin is strong—so it doesn’t need a Lin Xiangru. I am merely Qin’s Chancellor, Lin Zhi.”

The King of Zhao’s expression changed drastically. His attendants also turned pale and began scolding Lin Zhi for his insolence.

Lin Zhi arrogantly rebuked, “I am Qin’s Chancellor. Who do you think you are to reprimand me?”

The King waved a hand to silence them.

“He was out of line. Forgive him, Chancellor of Qin,” the King said through gritted teeth. “How is Lord Zhu Xiang?”

Lin Zhi replied, “Zhu Xiang and Li Mu took southern Chu for southern Qin. He’s now south of the river reclaiming land. Wherever he goes, he farms. He doesn’t involve himself in politics.”

The King looked dazed. “Yes… Zhu Xiang only farms… doesn’t care for politics…”

He realized that there was no need to fear or envy Zhu Xiang.

A rootless commoner uninterested in politics, who only wanted to farm—if he had promoted Zhu Xiang, he would have been Zhu Xiang’s only patron, and Zhu Xiang would have been utterly loyal to him.

Yet he had tried to kill Zhu Xiang.

Looking back, the King couldn’t understand why.

Why had he wanted Zhu Xiang dead? Why had he envied him? He truly didn’t know.

The King of Zhao didn’t know what else to say.

Lin Zhi had said he was merely Qin’s Chancellor. There was nothing more the King could say.

And he couldn’t do anything to Lin Zhi—he was Qin’s Chancellor. Zhao wouldn’t dare offend him.

So all he could do was offer gifts as a gesture of respect to the King of Qin and politely send Lin Zhi off.

Before leaving, Lin Zhi said, “Having Lord Xinling defend the border is Zhu Xiang’s wish. He believes that of all the young generals, only Lord Xinling can lead troops. And since Your Majesty surely won’t appoint Lord Xinling as Zhao’s general-in-chief, why not have him defend the border? That way, he can contribute to Zhao without threatening Your Majesty’s control.”

The King’s eyes lit up. “Zhu Xiang really said this?”

Lin Zhi replied, “Yes. Who else but him could persuade Lord Wei to defend Zhao? This unreasonable idea—only he could make it work.”

The King exclaimed, “So that’s it! I understand now!”

Lin Zhi thought to himself: the final move has been made—the game is decided.

He could now return to Qin.

And the next time he left Xianyang, Zichu would likely already be King of Qin.

He only hoped that Zhu Xiang and he wouldn’t lose Zichu as a friend.