HCT – Chapter 159 The First Emperor’s Cushion

In 251 BCE, Ying Zheng was twelve years old, and King Zhu of Qin was gravely ill.

In 250 BCE, Ying Zheng turned thirteen, and Prince Zichu ascended the throne as the new King of Qin.

After King Zhu’s body lay in repose, he was buried in the Eastern Qin Mausoleum, also known as Zhiyang Mausoleum.

Although Zhu Xiang was not of royal blood, he personally escorted King Zhu’s coffin into the mausoleum as a junior mourner, in accordance with the late king’s testament.

In his previous life, when Zhu Xiang had visited the Eastern Qin Mausoleum as a tourist, he had heard that it housed the graves of four of the First Emperor’s ancestors. His two predecessor kings and his friend Xia Tong were all buried there.

When Zichu escorted King Zhu’s body into the mausoleum, he pointed casually from the carriage and said, “That spot looks auspicious. I’ll build my tomb near there in the future.”

“If I’m buried there, you and Zheng’er can offer sacrifices to me from the palace walls.”

Still in his early thirties and at the height of his strength, Zichu was already calmly discussing his own death.

Zhu Xiang snapped, “I absolutely won’t offer sacrifices to you. Let you be lonely down there by yourself.”

Zichu stroked the beard he hadn’t trimmed for the mourning period and said, “Then I’ll leave a will—reserve a plot beside my tomb for you, and make your tomb my accompanying burial.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “If you want to be the first king to have an official buried with him, that’s fine. Just defeat Xunzi first.”

Ying Zheng, who had been dozing off, suddenly raised his head. “What? Father wants to challenge Master Xunzi?”

Zichu, with practiced ease, raised his hand and flicked the head of his cheeky son, who had clearly been learning from Zhu Xiang’s bad example.

Ying Zheng, who had inherited his uncle’s stubbornness, yawned and leaned back onto Zhu Xiang’s shoulder, continuing to nap.

Zichu watched his son acting like a child and felt the urge to play the stern father and lecture him about maturity.

But then he remembered—Ying Zheng had been helping Zhu Xiang with household accounts since the age of five or six, and had been serving in official posts outside the palace with Zhu Xiang since the age of ten. What more maturity could he expect?

If he tried to scold him, Zhu Xiang would probably immediately give him that mocking “hehe” face. To avoid upsetting himself, Zichu had no choice but to suppress the urge to educate his son.

After all, he’d never really done much fatherly teaching before. Not doing it now wouldn’t make a difference.

Once Zichu and Ying Zheng stepped down from the carriage, they resumed their roles as King of Qin and Crown Prince.

Zhu Xiang didn’t need to pretend—his sorrowful expression was enough to make people overlook the favor King Zhu had shown him.

The sons of King Zhu looked at Zhu Xiang with mixed bitterness and frustration.

In their father’s eyes, none of them had held a candle to Zhu Xiang.

They thought, if I were king, I’d surely treat Zhu Xiang better than he treats us.

But alas, Zhu Xiang had been bound to Zichu since the moment he entered Qin. They never had the chance to form a connection with him.

Now that Zichu was king, all hope was lost.

Since the Qin state’s legal reforms, princes of Qin could not be granted titles without merit. Once the king came of age and took control, he held absolute power and the throne was secure.

They had completely lost in the struggle for the throne. Now all they could do was perform valiantly on the battlefield, earn themselves some honors and fiefdoms, and live out the rest of their lives in peace.

But the more they thought about it, the more depressed they felt—they hadn’t even seriously competed with Zichu.

At least Prince Xi had left a mark. Though now he had been demoted to a commoner and exiled abroad, his fate unknown.

The ministers argued over King Zhu’s posthumous title for a long time. In the end, Xunzi made the final decision, bestowing upon him the highest of honorifics: Renwen (“Benevolent and Cultured”).

It wasn’t just the other six states who were stunned into awkward silence when they heard the title—even people within Qin felt a bit conflicted.

“Ren” represented the highest moral ideal in Confucianism.

Most of the officials managing Qin’s rituals and institutions were students of the great Confucian scholar Xunzi. Even those who weren’t Confucians were deeply familiar with its teachings.

To give such an exalted title to a king who had reigned only four years was truly astonishing.

The following character “Wen” (Cultured) was also an honorable title, but it paled in comparison to “Ren.”

When Zichu saw the title, he even rubbed his eyes and said to Ying Zheng, who was grinding ink nearby, “The King of Qin can be called ‘Ren’? That’s enough to scare a man to death.”

Ying Zheng pretended not to hear.

Xunzi and the others had their reasons for bestowing such a name.

King Zhaoxiang of Qin had founded the Xianyang Academy and invited scholars from across the land into Qin, but his efforts were mostly for show—at heart, he still ruled with an iron fist.

King Zhu was different.

He knew from the start of his reign that he didn’t have long to live, and that the mission to unify the realm would fall to his descendants. So he adopted a policy of rest and recuperation, of hiding brilliance and biding time.

He suppressed his ambitions, improved the civil service selection process at Xianyang Academy, and tested the academy system in the various commanderies, cultivating Qin’s own talent pool.

When Confucians from Lu came to Qin, their values often clashed with the Legalist system. Yet King Zhu didn’t use power to silence them—instead, he encouraged debates with Legalists and other schools of thought, and had them assist Zhu Xiang or help compile official texts in the palace.

During his reign, Qin saw very little warfare—he only sent General Lian Po to campaign against Han, and even that involved farming as they marched.

Toward the end of his life, there was almost a conflict with Chu, but to the outside world, it appeared he regained his senses and prevented a war.

Thus, among all the kings of Qin, he was the most peaceful.

To Confucian scholars, King Zhu had altered the brutal image of Qin and gave the world hope that the state was heading toward benevolent governance.

As the saying goes, “Buy a horse’s bones with gold”—they believed that giving King Zhu the title Ren was both fitting and symbolic.

Moreover, despite ruling for only four years, his reign had seen great results:

– Under Zhu Xiang, agricultural techniques flourished, leading to overflowing granaries year after year.

– After Xue Ji and her team invented new cotton looms, commoners began wearing cotton cloth, and deaths from cold during winter became rare.

In an ancient country, if there were few deaths from hunger or cold, it could be called a prosperous era.

So in those four years, King Zhu’s reign truly was a golden age.

The title King Renwen of Qin was well-deserved.

Zhu Xiang was stunned for a long time when he saw Zichu flaunting King Zhu’s posthumous title.

Originally, King Zhu’s title should have been King Xiaowen of Qin.

Ever since the Han Dynasty promoted “governing through filial piety,” all subsequent dynasties had followed the principle of filial governance, and the character “Xiao” (filial) became one of the highest forms of posthumous praise.

But not anymore.

Now, Confucianism no longer held absolute dominance, and “Xiao” was no longer the pinnacle of posthumous names.

For King Xiaowen of Qin, the title “Xiao” had been given not for any great accomplishments during his reign, but for the obedience he showed his father, King Zhaoxiang, while still crown prince.

“‘Wen’ is similar.” This wasn’t describing King Xiaowen of Qin’s governing philosophy, just commenting on his personal character: “Studious and fond of asking questions — hence ‘Wen.'”

But after thinking about the so-called “benevolent emperors” from her previous life, Zhu Xiang’s initial sentiment quickly cooled.

“For a monarch, a posthumous title is merely what others say — not something worth paying too much attention to,” Zhu Xiang said. “As for the two previous kings, they accomplished what they set out to do. Let others judge their merits and faults — they wouldn’t care.”

Ying Zheng lazily lifted his eyes and finally voiced what he’d been holding in his heart while watching his excited royal father: “Children judging their fathers, subjects judging their kings — utterly pointless.”

Zhu Xiang broke into a smile. “Zheng’er is absolutely right.”

Zichu glanced at his smiling confidant, then at his son, who had the bearing of a future tyrant. Irritated, he clenched his fist and made to knock Ying Zheng on the head — only for Zhu Xiang to block him.

“No knocking heads!” Zhu Xiang snapped. “What if you knock him silly? Once a day is the limit. If you’re that mad, hit his palm instead.”

Ying Zheng immediately handed over Zichu’s ceremonial sword, which had been placed to the side. “Royal Father, quick! Punish Uncle!”

What uncle?! He thought Uncle was protecting him!

Zichu, now clearly embarrassed and angry from being exposed, slammed the sword down on the table instead — he would not give Zhu Xiang the satisfaction.

If he actually chased Zhu Xiang around with a sword now, wouldn’t that be a clear admission he was embarrassed and angry?

Feigning calm, he said, “Indeed, utterly pointless.”

Zhu Xiang: “Pfft.”

Zichu: “…”

Ying Zheng again offered the sword: “Royal Father, here!”

At that moment, Cai Ze walked in with an armful of documents, only to find Zichu and Zhu Xiang dueling and Ying Zheng kneeling in punishment.

Cai Ze took a deep breath and tried to sound as calm as possible: “Zheng’er… Crown Prince, what’s going on?”

Ying Zheng knelt upright on a soft cushion, expressionless. “Uncle said Royal Father was embarrassed and angry. I offered a sword to the embarrassed and angry Royal Father. Royal Father said I was being unfilial and made me kneel. Then he chased Uncle around while embarrassed and angry.”

Cai Ze: “…”

Though Ying Zheng’s explanation was a bit convoluted, Cai Ze still understood.

He put the documents down, rolled up his sleeves, stepped into the chaos, and swiftly disarmed both Zichu and Zhu Xiang.

“When the official business is finished, Your Majesty and Lord Changping may resume sparring,” Cai Ze said evenly.

Zichu and Zhu Xiang dusted themselves off and went to deal with state affairs as though nothing had happened.

While handling documents, Zichu made sure to place a small desk in front of Ying Zheng — so he could kneel and assist.

Zhu Xiang chimed in from the side, telling Ying Zheng to kneel properly, keep his back straight, and not slack off.

Ying Zheng flipped through the documents with loud rustling, silently pondering what kind of terrible posthumous title he’d give his royal father once he became king. Children judging fathers? Excellent!

“This time, the King of Han also wants to attend the funeral,” Zichu said, flipping open the top document from Cai Ze’s stack. He immediately had a headache. “Is he addicted to crying at Qin royal funerals?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “General Lian is still stationed on the Han border overseeing farming operations. The Han King must be nervous.”

That border, once Han territory, now belonged to Qin.

Zichu said, “Lord Lian wants to return to pay his respects. What do you think?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “That depends on what you want. Are you withdrawing the army, or planning to conquer Han first? I suggest not wiping them out entirely — leave them half their land to lull the Six States.”

Cai Ze added, “If Qin destroys Han, the Six States might unite. They’re not yet weakened, and their alliance would be troublesome. Besides, Chu is in internal turmoil — if pressed from the outside, their king might survive this crisis.”

Zichu’s gaze dimmed briefly. Did Zhu Xiang see through his desire to conquer Han outright? Was he being that obvious?

Even though Zhu Xiang had guessed his thoughts, Zichu wasn’t bothered — he was used to it. He didn’t show the kind of panic or anger most monarchs would feel when a minister saw through them.

Casually, he said, “Then let’s let Han off for now. But Lord Lian leading the army mustn’t gain too much credit — it might raise suspicion. I’ve heard the Lord of Eastern Zhou wants to be the Zhou King? Have Lord Lian wipe out Eastern Zhou on his way back — that counts as a contribution.”

Zhu Xiang’s eyelid twitched. “On the way? You really know how to phrase things.”

Zichu said, “With Lord Lian’s ability, wiping out tiny Eastern Zhou is just a detour.”

Zhu Xiang nodded, “That’s true enough.”

Cai Ze asked, “Shall we let the Han King come?”

Zichu said mockingly, “If he’s still willing to come after we take half his land, he’s welcome.”

Cai Ze pulled out the next document. “The King of Wei also wishes to pay his respects.”

Zichu was delighted. “The King of Wei? Is it because Wei Wuji has finally gone to guard the Zhao border, and he’s worried that if Qin attacks, Wei Wuji won’t return to save him — so he wants to become a vassal of Qin instead?”

Cai Ze replied, “By law, Wei technically became a vassal of Qin during King Zhaoxiang’s reign.”

Zichu laughed, “If he wants to come, let him come.”

Zhu Xiang added, “He probably won’t actually come. Just testing Qin’s response. Though not capable, the King of Wei is prideful and good at scheming. He’s simply putting on a show of weakness — to highlight the trouble Wei Wuji abandoning Wei has caused him.”

Zichu rolled his eyes. “Who drove Wei Wuji away? It definitely wasn’t him, right? Zheng’er, don’t sit — back straight.”

While the elders were busy discussing state affairs, Ying Zheng, who had secretly sat down on his legs, looked gloomy as he straightened back up into a proper kneeling position.

Royal Father had said that if Uncle ever bullied him, he’d come help.

Hah.

Cai Ze couldn’t bear to watch anymore. “The Crown Prince is young — kneeling too long might harm his health.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “It’s fine — not even a quarter-hour yet. I picked a cushion that’s extra soft.”

Cai Ze held his forehead, grinding his teeth. “Zhu Xiang! Stop bullying Zheng’er!”

Zhu Xiang said, “He instigated a fight between me and Xia Tong — such filial impudence must be punished.”

Zichu agreed, “Exactly!”

Cai Ze was speechless and could only give Ying Zheng a helpless look.

Ying Zheng admitted his mistake, “I was wrong. I will definitely reflect on it.”

Zhu Xiang smiled at Zichu and said, “Look at Zheng’er’s expression when admitting his mistake. Doesn’t it look exactly like mine when I used to admit fault in front of Xunzi?”

Zichu replied, “Yes, very much so—especially sincere.”

Zhu Xiang agreed, “Exactly, very sincere.”

Zichu added, “But you never corrected your mistakes after admitting them.”

Zhu Xiang said, “I don’t think Zheng’er is much different.”

Cai Ze took a deep breath. “Zhu Xiang, don’t speculate about Zheng’er like that!”

What’s wrong with you! Why are you speaking ill of the Crown Prince in front of the King of Qin! What kind of treacherous minister are you?

Zhu Xiang said, “But am I wrong?”

Cai Ze: “…” Although… it was true.

Ying Zheng once again admitted his mistake, “I was wrong, I absolutely won’t keep making the same mistakes.”

Zhu Xiang burst into laughter at Ying Zheng’s indignant expression.

Zichu laughed so hard he could barely straighten up. “Alright, alright, I believe you. You may sit down—but only on a cushion.”

Ying Zheng took a deep breath. Deep breaths.

You two just love bullying me for fun, don’t you?! Was I born just to be your amusement?!

Suddenly, Ying Zheng recalled something his uncle once said when he was little: “If a nephew can’t be played with, what’s the point of raising him?”

Back then, all he could do was punch his uncle with his tiny fists.

Who would’ve thought that even now, his uncle hadn’t changed at all! I’m so mad I could explode!

Cai Ze once again gave Ying Zheng a helpless look.

What could you do when faced with this kind of father and uncle? Just let them mess around.

Cai Ze never imagined that although Xia Tong hadn’t reverted to being just Qin Prince Zichu in front of Zhu Xiang, he still couldn’t stop acting like his old self. Couldn’t he act like a proper king for once?

Thankfully, Lin Zhi had been more restrained lately. Otherwise, if those three got together again without King Zhaoxiang or King Renwen to keep them in check, who knows what chaos they’d cause?

Just imagining the mess those three might make—and knowing it would be his job to clean it up—made Cai Ze consider resigning.

He only became an official to protect his friends. He had no desire to toil endlessly.

In his heart, Cai Ze still longed for a wealthy and leisurely life.

Now that Zhu Xiang no longer needed his protection, could he finally resign?

Just as he was thinking this, he noticed Ying Zheng looking at him with a deeply aggrieved expression.

Cai Ze sighed inwardly and said, “If you two keep bullying Zheng’er, I’ll tell Xunzi.”

Zichu replied nonchalantly, “Xunzi would still side with me.”

Zhu Xiang quickly said, “I was wrong. I’ll go get a chair for Zheng’er.”

Zichu: “…Zhu Xiang, how could you defect halfway?”

Zhu Xiang stood up to get the chair. “You don’t know how much Xunzi spoils Zheng’er. He might not do anything to you, but he’ll beat me with his cane. He used to just use a ruler, but after I came back, it’s been a cane. You have no idea how much that thing hurts.”

Zichu asked Cai Ze, “Xunzi’s switched to using a cane on Zhu Xiang? Why?”

Cai Ze said, “That’s something you’ll have to ask Zhu Xiang himself.”

Zichu chuckled, “I’d rather ask Xunzi.”

Zhu Xiang brought the chair over, and Zichu casually waved his hand, allowing Ying Zheng to sit down.

Then the group resumed handling state affairs.

Out of sight of his elders, Ying Zheng gave the kneeling cushion a fierce kick.

He was furious!

But unexpectedly, Cai Ze, who had been watching him, noticed it.

Cai Ze became very worried about Ying Zheng’s temper.

In the past, Ying Zheng had his grandfather and great-grandfather to shield him, and Zichu wasn’t yet king, so he could act out in front of him.

But now Zichu was King of Qin, and as the crown prince, Ying Zheng needed to become more respectful and cautious to avoid making the king wary.

The relationship between a monarch and his heir wasn’t the same as a typical father-son bond. There were far more considerations involved. But Ying Zheng seemed far too accustomed to being spoiled and showed no awareness of what it meant to be Crown Prince.

If Ying Zheng didn’t learn to be cautious, and Zhu Xiang—who was a bit of a fool—failed to notice the tension between the king and crown prince, what would happen if the relationship between them soured?

Cai Ze thought for a moment and gave up on resigning.

Zhu Xiang couldn’t be relied on, and Lin Zhi was always running around. He had to stay in Xianyang Palace—for Ying Zheng’s sake.

Zichu had never imagined that right after ascending the throne, one of his closest friends would already be thinking of quitting.

Chu State.

King of Chu knelt pale-faced on a cushion, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly for a long time.

Lord Chunshen sat opposite him with a blank expression, saying nothing.

The other ministers all hung their heads low, not daring to speak.

After a long while, the King of Chu finally said mournfully, “What did I ever do to deserve this? Why have they rebelled? Even when Wu Qi was Lingyin, they never rebelled!”

No one responded.

The king looked around at the normally noisy ministers, and finally fixed his gaze on Lord Chunshen.

At his most helpless moment, only Lord Chunshen had stood by his side. That was why he had valued him so highly after ascending the throne.

But over time, more people had gathered around him, and Lord Chunshen had made mistakes. The king gradually grew distant from him.

Now in helplessness once again, the king instinctively turned to Lord Chunshen, hoping he could save him again.

Noticing the king’s gaze, Lord Chunshen felt a complex swirl of emotions.

The king was relying on him again. But it always happened like this—only in times of trouble.

Still, their fortunes were intertwined. Lord Chunshen had no choice but to offer strategies to the king—even though he believed the king had brought this on himself.

“Perhaps they’ve harbored ambitions for a long time,” Lord Chunshen said. “They are royal kin, after all. Ambition isn’t unusual. Look at the Tian clan replacing Qi, or the partitioning of Jin. Many nobles dream of becoming kings, but simply lack the opportunity. Since they’re of royal blood, given the chance, of course they’d try to crown themselves.”

He sneered, “They probably think they’re just as qualified to be kings of Chu.”

The king fumed, “How dare those scoundrels!”

Lord Chunshen said calmly, “They already have.”

The king’s expression fell into despair once again.

Looking at the king’s defeated state, Lord Chunshen felt stifled.

He had served the king since his time as crown prince and had long known that the previous king lacked ambition.

Back then, he thought this was ideal—it gave him room to realize his own ambitions.

But now that civil war had broken out, the king wasn’t thinking of suppressing it—just lamenting why people would rebel…

Sigh.

Lord Chunshen said, “Your Majesty, you can ask them why after the rebellion is put down. For now, the priority is ending it.”

The king sighed again, “Yes… but they are my kin. I can’t bear to harm them.”

Lord Chunshen knew the king was only pretending to be benevolent and didn’t expose him. He continued, “They rebelled first. It is only right for you to quell it. If Your Majesty truly cannot bear it, then after quelling the rebellion, do not execute them—just strip them of their titles and exile them. That would be fair to their ancestors.”

The king nodded, “You’re right. Lord Chunshen, will you lead the troops?”

Lord Chunshen said, “They’ve scattered and caused chaos everywhere—I can only lead one force. Your Majesty should send at least four. And with Qin eyeing us, and other states watching closely, we must also prepare for foreign threats.”

The king once again looked distressed. “But what should we do? I don’t have that many troops.”

Lord Chunshen fell silent.

He knew what had to be done. So did the king. But the king didn’t want to say it himself—he wanted Lord Chunshen to speak first.

But Lord Chunshen would not.

If he did, even if the rebellion were suppressed, the king might still cast him aside afterward.

The only solution was to acknowledge a few of the most powerful nobles as kings in their own right, form alliances with them, and jointly defeat the smaller rebel lords—to retain most of Chu’s territory.

The king repeatedly glanced at Lord Chunshen, who kept his mouth shut and pretended not to notice.

Irritated, the king looked toward the others.

During the Qin-Bu coinage era in Chu, the king and the nobles had all amassed great wealth and grain stores, believing themselves much stronger.

When civil unrest broke out everywhere, the areas directly governed by the king remained stable—thanks to Lord Chunshen, who had prevented food policy chaos.

Seeing chaos in the lands of other lords, an old man named Baitou Weng urged the king to take the opportunity to punish disobedient nobles. Though the king drove him out of the capital, he had been tempted.

Later, Baitou Weng was pursued by unknown forces and drowned—his body never recovered. Public anger grew, and calls for justice only intensified.

Many aspiring reformers gathered around the king, eager to follow the example of Wu Qi and Qu Yuan in assisting reforms.

Among them were newly ennobled military families, who loudly declared that the old lords were no threat and could easily be swept aside—none more enthusiastic than the Xiang family, a long line of generals.

Even among the old lords, there were supporters of reform—like the Qu clan.

That was something even Zhu Xiang hadn’t anticipated. It was Lin Zhi, after a field investigation in Chu, who realized the Qu clan was more suitable than the rootless Lord Chunshen as a representative of the king’s direct authority.