HCT – Chapter 156 The Ink Mark of the First Emperor’s Cub

When news spread that Zhu Xiang had returned to Xianyang, many people wanted to visit him.  But the moment they heard that King Zhu of Qin had personally gone to Zhu Xiang’s estate, all those eager visitors gave up instantly.

In private, they sighed endlessly—despite Zhu Xiang having been away from Xianyang for so long, the King of Qin’s trust and affection toward him remained as strong as ever.

When King Zhu arrived at Zhu Xiang’s estate, Zhu Xiang was in the middle of being scolded by Xunzi.

Even though he was sick and had to lean on a cane, King Zhu still insisted on coming to watch Zhu Xiang get scolded. He smiled throughout, even seeming more spirited than before.

Zhu Xiang looked at King Zhu with a deeply aggrieved expression.

He had heard from Cai Ze that His Majesty had grown more and more like a “true King of Qin,” with a vastly different temperament than before, and that Zhu Xiang should be cautious in dealing with him.

But how was this being cautious? His Majesty still seemed to love watching him get in trouble just like in the old days!

Once Xunzi had finished his scolding, King Zhu chuckled and said, “I heard you fainted when you got back, scared Zheng’er half to death. And now he’s only letting you eat fruit peels?”

Zhu Xiang responded seriously, “Exactly! Zheng’er is so unfilial! Your Majesty must punish him properly!”

Ying Zheng gave Zhu Xiang a completely unconcerned glance, looking smug beyond belief.

King Zhu pulled out a handful of gold beans from his sleeve and stuffed them into Ying Zheng’s hand. “Well done!”

Ying Zheng clutched the gold beans. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Then he shot Zhu Xiang another smug look.

Zhu Xiang complained pitifully, “Your Majesty, not only do you not reprimand Zheng’er, you even reward him. He’s only going to become more unfilial toward me in the future.”

King Zhu laughed. “Then don’t give him reasons to worry about you.”

Ying Zheng added, “Exactly. Uncle, reflect on your behavior.”

Cai Ze’s mouth twitched slightly.

“Reflect on your behavior” was a phrase often used by Zhu Xiang during his “arguments” with Zichu and Lin Zhi. Now Zheng’er had picked up the bad habit.

Zhu Xiang also realized that Ying Zheng had learned nearly all of his catchphrases and sighed gloomily. “Zheng’er, don’t use your uncle’s words to talk back to your uncle.”

King Zhu asked curiously, “What do you mean by ‘talk back’?”

Zhu Xiang gestured, “It’s like… carrying a pole between two people. If you push it down, I lift it up. Isn’t that a good metaphor?”

King Zhu laughed heartily. “Got it, got it. Zheng’er, Grandfather supports you—keep talking back to your uncle!”

Ying Zheng respectfully replied, “Yes.”

He gave Zhu Xiang a side glance. Uncle, did you hear that? Official royal decree: talk back. You’re done for!

Zhu Xiang held his forehead in dismay. He had only fallen ill from overwork—how long was Zheng’er planning to stay mad at him? Was this child a reincarnated pufferfish? Why so petty?

He began to doubt whether he had raised the child wrong somehow. How did he end up with such a temperamental little cub?

Xunzi looked at King Zhu fanning the flames and enjoying the show and sighed inwardly.

If Zhu Xiang had stayed in Xianyang, perhaps the King wouldn’t have aged so quickly.

But Zhu Xiang’s talents could only truly shine in the uncivilized lands outside of Xianyang. He wasn’t some flattering courtier meant to amuse the monarch—he was the kind of talent meant to assist a king in ruling the world.

No wise monarch would mistake such a minister for a flatterer and keep him merely for entertainment.

After joking around with Zhu Xiang for a while, King Zhu finally grew tired and decided to stay in the neighboring room, so the two could recover together.

When Zichu arrived with a mountain of luggage, the two patients had already squeezed into one bed and were playing cards, with Cai Ze keeping them company.

Zichu came in to report on the moving process, but King Zhu only grumbled that Zichu was interrupting his card game and told him to handle it himself.

Zichu was speechless. Just earlier today, the King had been overseeing every little matter, worried Zichu would mess something up. Now he didn’t care at all?

King Zhu said, “If it’s too much work, ask Zheng’er to help. Zheng’er, go help your father and get a taste of what it’s like to be Crown Prince.”

Ying Zheng lowered his head and tugged on King Zhu’s sleeve, saying nothing.

King Zhu smiled, “Go on now.”

“Mm.” Ying Zheng muttered, “Grandfather, I’ll be back soon.”

“Good.” King Zhu threw down four cards. “Bomb!”

Zhu Xiang immediately followed, “Counter-bomb!”

Cai Ze, deadpan, said, “Queen bomb.”

The “Queen” meant the two Jokers. After drawing out both Zhu Xiang and King Zhu’s bombs, Cai Ze slowly tossed his final pair and won the game.

Cai Ze cupped his hands. “Pay up.”

King Zhu sighed and fished out some silver beans, while Zhu Xiang shouted, “Put it on my tab!” Then the three started a new round.

As Zichu left with Ying Zheng, he looked back once more, his expression unconsciously softening.

“Why did Zhu Xiang collapse from overwork?” Zichu asked as they moved documents. “He’s always been health-conscious, constantly talking about work-life balance. He’s been busy before too, but never collapsed.”

Ying Zheng thought for a moment and said, “Probably guilt.”

Zichu paused in his tracks and turned to look at Ying Zheng. “Guilt?”

Ying Zheng repeated the conversation between his uncle and aunt from the other day.

Zichu kept sighing, then cursed, “Didn’t I tell him to stay out of it?! Even without his strategies, it’s just Chu—Qin could’ve taken it easily!”

Ying Zheng said, “If Chu hadn’t fallen into disarray, Qin would’ve had to mobilize the entire nation to fight. We’d win, but the cost in lives would be terrible. Uncle said it was the trolley problem. A runaway cart with only one chance to pull the reins—someone’s going to get hit. One side has ten people, the other has one. He chose to hit the one.”

Zichu replied, “If they’re all strangers, anyone would pick the side with fewer people.”

Ying Zheng said, “But does that mean the innocent person who gets hit deserves to die? Uncle thinks hitting someone, even to save others, is still a sin.”

Zichu cursed again, “If he thinks that way, he shouldn’t have taken the reins in the first place!”

This time, Ying Zheng agreed with his father. “Exactly. So why didn’t you stop him?”

Zichu looked at Ying Zheng.

Ying Zheng stared right back.

Zichu raised his hand and knocked his arrogant son on the head, then sighed, “Do you know why I didn’t stop him?”

Ying Zheng snorted, “Because his plan was useful.”

Zichu said, “No. Even if Zhu Xiang didn’t take the reins, if he came up with a way to minimize the crash’s damage and we didn’t let him act on it, he’d still be upset. Besides, Zhu Xiang is incredibly talented. He wants to accomplish something in his life. As a friend, how could we stop him just because he’d feel guilty? And by the time he made his decision, he had already steeled himself.”

Ying Zheng muttered, “Stopping someone who’s already made up their mind is an insult to their resolve, right?”

Zichu said, “Besides, with Zhu Xiang’s talent, if he wants to do something, would anyone be able to stop him? If it were possible, he wouldn’t have gone to Changping in the first place.”

Ying Zheng held his head in both hands. “Ugh, so annoying. Can’t Uncle just behave for once and obediently stay in the fields tending to his beloved seedlings, instead of meddling in things he’s not good at?”

Zichu replied, “The things he meddles in… he’s actually quite good at.”

Ying Zheng said, “If I say he’s not good at it, then he’s not good at it!”

Zichu said helplessly, “When you become King of Qin, you too will compromise for Zhu Xiang’s determination and resolve.”

Ying Zheng dropped his hands and snorted coldly. “I absolutely won’t!”

Zichu lightly patted Ying Zheng on the head. “No, you will. You won’t bear to let him fail at something he wants to do. Alright, let’s not talk about this anymore. Let’s talk about the resettlement of refugees. Since I left Southern Qin, has anything major happened?”

Ying Zheng replied, “Nothing that could be called a major event.”

To Zhu Xiang and Xue Ji, settling a large number of Chu refugees was indeed a big deal. But to someone like Ying Zheng, who stood at the top, it really wasn’t.

Southern Qin was still very stable. More refugees just meant more labor for cultivating land—how could that be considered a major event?

After listening, Zichu also felt that nothing significant had happened in Southern Qin since he left.

“I wonder when chaos will break out in Chu,” Zichu mused. “Lin Li should be back by now, right?”

Ying Zheng said, “Uncle Lin’s role-playing as an old man this time was also very dangerous. Once he’s back, I’m going to have a serious talk with him.”

Zichu nodded. “That’s right. I’ll leave that to you, Zheng’er!”

Ying Zheng began pondering how he should scold Uncle Lin for always throwing himself into dangerous situations.

Zichu looked at Ying Zheng, who was troubled over how to ‘scold’ an elder, and couldn’t help but smile.

That round little bundle of a child who used to nestle in Zhu Xiang’s arms had already grown into a refined young man. Time really flew.

Now dressed in the robes of a crown prince, Zheng’er probably looked more like a proper Qin heir than he himself ever did.

With such a successor, there would be no worries for the future.

As Ying Zheng was thinking, he unknowingly quickened his pace and walked ahead of Zichu.

Zichu gazed at his silhouette walking toward the sunlight, momentarily dazed.

He suddenly remembered the word “jealousy” his own father once said to him.

Would he one day say the same thing to Zheng’er?

Zichu shook his head, brushing aside that sudden wave of melancholy. He stepped forward and grabbed the back of Ying Zheng’s collar, pulling him back before the boy could walk straight into a tree while lost in thought.

Ying Zheng glanced at the tree, then gave it a hard kick for daring to block his path, before resuming his deep thoughts.

Zichu couldn’t help but laugh.

Zheng’er might look grown-up, but inside he was still a child. Who knows how Zhu Xiang had raised him—he somehow turned out both precocious and childish. Truly contradictory.

Father and son split the administrative work between them. Even though they hadn’t worked together in a long time, their coordination quickly returned. Their efficiency in handling documents even surpassed the times when Zichu and King Zhu worked at full capacity.

Zichu couldn’t help but sigh in admiration—this son of his was truly remarkable. No wonder he’d been called a prodigy capable of managing a household even while still in a baby bib.

But Zhu Xiang really had a knack for making kids work.

“If you get tired, go take a rest,” Zichu reminded him.

Ying Zheng replied, “That’s something I should be telling you, Father. If you also work yourself sick, and I have to care for three bedridden elders, that would be truly exhausting.”

“That mouth of yours…” Zichu said helplessly. “Once you become Crown Prince, you’ll have to rein it in. Not everyone is as tolerant as Zhu Xiang.”

Ying Zheng said, “I only talk this way to you and Uncle. I’m different with Aunt.”

Zichu: “…”

Should he be happy that he was ranked alongside Zhu Xiang?

He didn’t feel happy at all.

“Do as you like. Just be mindful in front of outsiders,” Zichu reminded. “Even if your position as Crown Prince is very secure, you still need to manage your public image.”

“Got it,” Ying Zheng said. “I have a great image outside. Don’t worry, Father.”

The two chatted briefly, then buried themselves back in paperwork.

There was far too much for the King of Qin to handle.

Now that King Zhu had handed off some of the responsibilities he once clung to tightly, the burden on Zichu’s shoulders had increased again. Though Ying Zheng had experience in governance and the guidance of another self from his dreams, it still took them several days of hard work to finally get things in order.

Whenever King Zhu’s health improved even a little, he would hobble in on a cane to check in on their progress.

Upon seeing their results, he would smile kindly and nod, then promptly go off to find Zhu Xiang to play cards.

Zichu felt deeply conflicted seeing this.

In the past, the former king only abdicated when his mind was already failing. Even when he was lucid, Zichu’s father had to kneel at his bedside to report state affairs and await judgment.

But King Zhu truly seemed to have let go.

Would he himself be able to do the same when that day came?

Definitely not. Zichu knew himself too well.

“Father, snap out of it. The ink on your brush is about to drip,” Ying Zheng hurried to rescue the document Zichu had almost ruined.

Startled, Zichu flailed and flung the brush—which ended up smacking right across Ying Zheng’s face, leaving a long black streak.

Ink-faced Ying Zheng: “…”

Zichu clutched the table, laughing uncontrollably. “Where’s Zhu Xiang? Let him come see this!”

Ying Zheng shouted angrily, “See what?! Water—get me water!”

He wiped at his face, only to smear the ink even more.

Zichu was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Tossing aside the paperwork, he dragged Ying Zheng to go see Zhu Xiang.

Ying Zheng clung desperately to the doorframe, refusing to go.

Now well enough to stroll around the courtyard, Zhu Xiang heard the commotion from Zichu and Ying Zheng, and sauntered over with his hands behind his back—only to be greeted by the sight of his big tabby-cat-faced nephew.

“Hahahaha, what happened to Zheng’er’s face?” Zhu Xiang laughed loudly. “Cai Ze, come take a look!”

Cai Ze came over, supporting King Zhu of Qin, and said helplessly, “Got ink on your face by accident? Why are you still acting like a child? Bring some water quickly.”

Ying Zheng complained, “It wasn’t me! It was Father who threw the brush at my face!”

King Zhu chuckled. “Zichu, what were you doing?”

Zichu replied with a smile, “My hand slipped.”

Zhu Xiang praised, “Xia Tong, you really have an artistic flair. Look at this splashed ink painting—worthy of being remembered for ages!”

Ying Zheng charged at his uncle, trying to headbutt him.

Zhu Xiang twisted his body. “I dodge!”

“Uncle, stop right there!” Ying Zheng shouted angrily.

Zhu Xiang hid behind King Zhu. “It was your father who splashed ink on your face like he was painting—why are you mad at me? Go headbutt your father.”

“Stop!” Ying Zheng chased Zhu Xiang around.

And so, Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng started circling King Zhu in pursuit.

Cai Ze facepalmed with one hand.

King Zhu laughed heartily and said to Zichu, “This reminds me of the time you and Zhu Xiang were chasing each other around a pillar in front of the late king.”

Zichu said, “Your Majesty, at least we weren’t chasing around you.”

King Zhu chuckled. “Am I not also a pillar? Ah, Zhu Xiang got caught!”

Zhu Xiang turned around and hoisted Ying Zheng up onto his shoulder.

Ying Zheng yelled, “Put me down!”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Nope.”

He carried the now-grown youth around in a few dizzying circles before setting him back on the ground.

At last, a servant brought over the water. Cai Ze handed King Zhu off to Zichu, kicked the troublemaking Zhu Xiang aside, and picked up a cloth to wipe Ying Zheng’s face.

“Stop bullying Zheng’er,” Cai Ze scolded. “How old are you now? Still bullying your nephew? Feeling better, are you? If you’re well enough, go help Zheng’er with his work. If you’re so bored, you can go tend the fields on the estate.”

Zhu Xiang laughed. “He got to act all high and mighty while I was sick—it’s only fair I take it back now, isn’t that right, Your Majesty?”

King Zhu smiled. “Exactly.”

Ying Zheng: “…” Grandfather, that’s not what you said before! Grandfather, what happened to your principles as King of Qin?

King Zhu’s attitude was clear: as King of Qin, whatever he did was principle.

When Lin Zhi returned, he hadn’t even reached Xianyang when he could already sense a storm brewing.

He was very puzzled.

Zichu’s position as Crown Prince was so stable—there was no reason for such unrest in Xianyang, even if the king had passed.

Once he arrived, he learned that both the King and Crown Prince had moved into Zhu Xiang’s estate, and finally understood.

The two of them likely wanted to emulate what had happened when the late king passed—use the transition of power to lure out dissenters and clean up the court.

And the bait they’d released was Chunhua.

Lin Zhi frowned in disgust.

If he had been in Xianyang, he would never have agreed to this. Chunhua was a painful wound in both Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er’s hearts.

Though they had no affection for Chunhua, her blood relation to them made her very existence a source of hurt.

Using a foolish Chunhua to lure out disloyal courtiers was certainly a clever form of “waste utilization”—efficient, even. But compared to Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er’s feelings, Lin Zhi didn’t think it was worth it.

But the wheels were already in motion. Chunhua’s residence was already flooded with visitors. No matter how displeased he felt, it was pointless now.

After briefly checking in at home, Lin Zhi went straight to Zhu Xiang’s estate and moved in too, pausing only to scold both Zichu and Cai Ze.

“You think I didn’t object?” Cai Ze said, annoyed. “This was the King’s direct decision.”

Zichu raised both hands. “I only went along with it. I never wanted to use her. Zhu Xiang is smart—if I had tried to use Chunhua, do you think he’d still look at me kindly?”

Lin Zhi’s anger finally subsided. “Fair point.”

Zichu said, “Rather than being angry at us, you should be angry at Zhu Xiang. Did you know he collapsed?”

Lin Zhi raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

Zichu said, “He fainted from overwork on the way back by boat. He scared Zheng’er so badly the boy cried.”

Lin Zhi took a deep breath. “He looks fine now.”

Cai Ze added, “He only got better after some rest. When he first came back, he was still bedridden.”

Lin Zhi turned and left.

Zichu and Cai Ze exchanged a glance.

Zichu: Do you think Lin Li is going to beat him up?

Cai Ze: If he does, Zhu Xiang deserves it.

In the end, Lin Zhi didn’t lay a hand on Zhu Xiang—but he did give him a thorough scolding.

Zhu Xiang was stunned.

Lin Zhi had always been unserious; this was the first time he’d seen him with a stern face, yelling like that.

Even when he returned from Changping, Lin Zhi hadn’t scolded him! It was just a sickness—was this really necessary?

Hearing Zhu Xiang still dare act wronged, Lin Zhi laughed from anger. “Back then, going to Changping wasn’t your choice—you were powerless, so why would I scold you? But this time? This was all on you!”

Zhu Xiang defended himself, “I knew I’d be returning to Xianyang soon. If I didn’t settle the refugee matters first, what if there was unrest?”

Lin Zhi retorted, “You think Zhang Ruo, Meng Wu, and Li Mu are useless? You think Qin officials are useless? Qin has absorbed refugees from the Three Jin states before; it can absorb southern Qin’s refugees too. They’ve been preparing for this for a long time—just waiting.”

Zhu Xiang wanted to argue more, but against Lin Zhi, who knew southern Qin and had spearheaded agricultural reform there, his arguments were empty—mere excuses.

Seeing Zhu Xiang silenced, Lin Zhi sighed and said earnestly, “I know you couldn’t bear it and had to act to feel at ease. But what if something happened to you? What about Xue Ji? What about Zheng’er? What about us, your friends? Cai Ze, Li Mu, and I only came to Qin because of you.”

Zhu Xiang hung his head. “I know.”

Lin Zhi said, “I don’t usually say this stuff, because I’m afraid of adding pressure to you. But if I don’t, you treat your life like it’s worthless. No matter how uneasy you feel, you’d better live well—for Xue Ji, for Zheng’er, for us: me, Cai Ze, Li Mu.”

“Now that Xia Tong is about to become King of Qin—he might be close to Cai Ze and me, but that only makes us half friends. His relationship with you is different. Before a new king ascends, those closest to him are the ones in most danger after. The only person who can protect us, who can remind King Zichu of who Xia Tong used to be—is you.”

“Cai Ze and I hold high office; Li Mu holds the position of Grand General. We have too much power. Without you to mediate, do you think the King won’t grow wary?”

“Conflict between ministers and generals isn’t about personalities—it’s about positions. A wise and virtuous king is the only kind who doesn’t fear harmony among powerful officials.”

Zhu Xiang clenched his fists. “I understand.”

Lin Zhi said, “Remember my words well.”

Zhu Xiang took a deep breath. “I will.”

Lin Zhi patted his shoulder and said, “I went to Zhao this time and persuaded the king to appoint Lord Xinling to guard the border. You can stop worrying about the northern frontier.”

Zhu Xiang finally smiled. “Is Wei Wuji doing well?”

Lin Zhi replied, “When he fought for the post, he quit drinking, resumed martial training—he’s the same Lord Xinling who once gave Qin such a headache on the battlefield.”

Zhu Xiang let out a breath of relief. “He’ll probably adjust quickly, then.”

Lin Zhi said, “With letters from Li Mu in hand, if he can’t manage the three northern prefectures of Zhao, then he doesn’t deserve the name Lord Xinling.”

Zhu Xiang laughed. “He’ll manage.”

After a moment of hesitation, Zhu Xiang asked, “How’s Zhao doing?”

Lin Zhi said, “You mean how’s the King of Zhao? After his repentance, he may not be wise, but at least he’s a stable ruler. If only he had been this way sooner…”

Lin Zhi paused, expression turning wry. “If he had been like this sooner, you would’ve waited for Zheng’er to grow up before coming to Qin.”

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s true.”

Lin Zhi sighed with exasperation. “Xia Tong… this move of Zichu’s… sigh. He really has you wrapped around his finger.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Which is why he owes me.”

Lin Zhi agreed, “Yes, yes, he owes you. When he becomes King of Qin, be sure to get your dues. Lord Pingyang has gotten a little senile, but overall his health is still good.”

Zhu Xiang’s expression dimmed. “Birth, aging, illness, and death—it’s the way of life.”

When he returned, Xunzi had also aged a lot. Though he still seemed healthy, Zhu Xiang knew: elders at that age—one chill, and they might never get up again.

Lin Zhi said, “Stay close to the King and Xunzi.”

Zhu Xiang nodded. “Mm.”

Lin Zhi patted his shoulder again. “You are their comfort.”

Zhu Xiang: “Mm.”

He knew. That’s why he had made all those “time-wasting entertainments”—to make the King happy in his final days.

King Zhu had once told Zhu Xiang, right now, he was truly happy—as if he had returned to the days when his older brother was still alive.

Back then, King Zhu had just been Lord Anguo, with no part in Qin’s present or future. He drank wine, held beauties, and thought only of how to have fun today and how to have fun tomorrow.

“To return to the most cherished days at the end of life… it’s not bad at all.” King Zhu was utterly at peace.