HCT – Chapter 169 I Submit a Memorial to Depose the Empress

Zhu Xiang never managed to ride the horse.

It took them five days to return to Xianyang. During the entire journey, Zhu Xiang remained weak in the limbs, sleepless at night, mentally drained—completely in no condition to ride a horse by himself.

King Qin Zichu couldn’t help but grumble, “Zhu Xiang’s mental endurance is far too weak,” only to be fiercely glared at by Lin Zhi.

“I really don’t know whose son Zheng’er is,” Lin Zhi couldn’t resist mocking. “Not only do you not care, but you also stand on the side making sarcastic remarks!”

King Qin Zichu defended himself, “I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. Zheng’er is clearly fine—Zhu Xiang is worrying for nothing.”

Lin Zhi snapped, “Zheng’er learned this reckless behavior from you. Back then, in order to eliminate trouble once and for all, you deliberately drew out an assassination attempt and even cut yourself with an arrowhead. Now Zheng’er is copying you!”

King Qin Zichu rubbed his nose. “In that regard, he truly is like me.”

Zhu Xiang pressed his temple and said, “Enough. Stop arguing.”

King Qin Zichu and Lin Zhi immediately fell silent.

Five days later, upon learning that his uncle had returned, Ying Zheng came out of Xianyang City to greet them personally to show that he was completely fine.

Zhu Xiang opened the carriage door. Ignoring all courtly etiquette, before King Qin Zichu could even move or the carriage could fully stop, Zhu Xiang had already jumped out.

“Zheng’er!” Zhu Xiang cupped Ying Zheng’s face with both hands. The moment he saw the injury on his face—still smeared with medicinal ointment—tears instantly welled up.

My Zheng’er, who I’ve never struck harder than a slap on the hand even when he was too mischievous—how dare she!

“Uncle, I’m fine, really. It’s already scabbed over—it’ll heal soon,” Ying Zheng quickly comforted his uncle. “Look, the wound’s already starting to close.”

Zhu Xiang rolled up Ying Zheng’s sleeve.

Ying Zheng wasn’t quick enough to stop him, revealing the bandages wrapped around his arm.

Although his injuries were only superficial, he still needed medicine. His face could be directly treated with ointment, but since his body had to be clothed, the wounds had to be bandaged.

The injuries on Ying Zheng’s body weren’t deep, but there were many of them. The palace didn’t need to be frugal with silk and gauze, so the imperial physicians had wrapped both of Ying Zheng’s arms thoroughly.

Holding Ying Zheng’s bandaged arm, Zhu Xiang’s hands trembled uncontrollably. Choked with emotion, he couldn’t get a word out.

Only then did King Qin Zichu and Lin Zhi approach.

King Qin Zichu looked at the wounds on Ying Zheng and realized that they were far worse than he had imagined. A flicker of panic finally stirred in his heart.

He glanced at the court officials who had come with Ying Zheng to greet him but didn’t erupt on the spot.

“Let’s return to the palace first.” King Qin Zichu patted Zhu Xiang’s shoulder. “I will handle this matter.”

Zhu Xiang took a few deep breaths, wiped his tears, and gently helped Ying Zheng pull his sleeve down. “Alright, let’s go back… let’s go back first…”

He didn’t dare hold Ying Zheng’s hand, which was also wrapped in bandages, but Ying Zheng took the initiative and grasped his uncle’s hand.

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help but ask, “Does it hurt?”

Ying Zheng originally wanted to say it didn’t hurt, but thinking of all the suffering he had endured over the past few days, he couldn’t help but complain: “It didn’t hurt when I got injured, but applying the medicine hurts too much! Uncle, could you ask the imperial physician if it’s possible not to use alcohol and allicin? My wound is really shallow.”

At the mention of alcohol and allicin, Ying Zheng’s eyes turned red again. He was truly traumatized by the pain!

Lin Zhi scowled and said, “Serves you right!”

Ying Zheng took one look at Uncle Lin’s darkened face and didn’t dare to argue. Uncle Lin knew him too well—no excuse would work.

Lin Zhi said, “When Zhu Xiang found out you were injured, he was so agitated that he fainted on the spot. He originally planned to ride straight back, but you scared him so badly his limbs went limp. For the past five days, he couldn’t eat or sleep, let alone ride a horse. He could only return by carriage.”

Ying Zheng widened his eyes and quickly looked Zhu Xiang up and down. It was only now that he noticed—his uncle seemed to have lost quite a bit of weight.

“I’m sorry…” Ying Zheng lowered his head and sincerely apologized.

Lin Zhi spoke earnestly: “I know what you were trying to do. But before you act, think about how many people will be worried and upset because of you. That’s enough—let’s return to the palace first.”

Only after Lin Zhi finished scolding did Qin King Zichu chime in, “Zheng’er, listen well to what your Uncle Lin says.”

Lin Zhi almost blurted out, “Didn’t you learn this from your father?” But seeing so many colleagues around, he forced himself to hold back and didn’t embarrass the King of Qin in public.

“I was wrong,” Ying Zheng quickly admitted, “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

There wouldn’t be another person who would force him to harm himself in order to retaliate.

Zhu Xiang didn’t respond. He just kept carefully inspecting the wound on Ying Zheng’s face, as if by looking at it a few more times, it might heal faster.

Qin King Zichu gestured to Cai Ze, inviting him to join them in the same carriage.

Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng sat together, while Qin King Zichu, Cai Ze, and Lin Zhi squeezed into the rest of the space. Thankfully, the King of Qin’s carriage was large enough that it didn’t feel cramped.

“So what exactly happened?” Once the carriage started moving, Lin Zhi—rarely this impatient—asked urgently.

Cai Ze glanced at Ying Zheng and said, “After you all left, the Queen had the palace servants summon the Crown Prince…”

Qin King Zichu waved his hand, cutting him off: “No need for formalities. Just get to the point.”

Cai Ze took a deep breath and gave Ying Zheng a fierce glare. Ying Zheng quickly averted his gaze.

Cai Ze said bluntly, “Chunhua tried to deceive Zheng’er, saying she didn’t abandon him but instead entrusted him to Zhu Xiang and deliberately lured away the assassins sent by the King of Zhao…”

Lin Zhi cursed, “As if there are no Zhao officials left in Xianyang?! When has the King of Zhao ever tried to assassinate her?!”

Qin King Zichu nodded repeatedly: “Her movements have always been under my surveillance.”

Cai Ze continued, “She also claimed that she didn’t abandon Zhu Xiang and Xue Ji, but sold herself to raise money for Zhu Xiang’s treatment. It’s just that the money was embezzled by someone else.”

At that, Zhu Xiang finally spoke coldly: “If she was going to sell herself, why did she take all the valuables from home?”

Cai Ze said, “Exactly—so she was lying. Zheng’er exposed her, and she flew into a rage out of humiliation. That’s what the servants in the Queen’s palace said. As for whether that’s truly the case, you’ll have to ask Zheng’er.”

Cai Ze had personally interrogated the palace servants close to Zhao Ji to investigate whether someone was behind all this. He knew that Ying Zheng had been the first to slap Zhao Ji—but he didn’t mention it. This was something Ying Zheng needed to bring up himself.

Ying Zheng hesitated for a moment, then lowered his head a little further and confessed the events of that day without hiding anything.

“I could remember things from a very young age. So before I was raised by my uncle, I remembered all the things she did to me. I originally wanted to use that to provoke her—have her curse at me a few times, best if she slapped me—then let Master Xun witness it. After that, I could justifiably grow distant from her without anyone accusing me of being unfilial.”

“But…” Ying Zheng glanced at Zhu Xiang, then quickly lowered his head again. “She ended up provoking me, and I slapped her.”

Zhu Xiang tried hard to remain calm. “Was this about me and Xue Ji?”

Ying Zheng gave a slight nod.

Zhu Xiang asked, “Your right hand was the most seriously injured—was that self-inflicted?”

Ying Zheng looked up, startled by Zhu Xiang’s insight.

Zhu Xiang said, “I raised you myself. How could I not know your temperament? You’d never let Chunhua hurt you this badly.”

He looked down at Ying Zheng’s heavily bandaged right hand, which was visibly more swollen than his left, and then gave King Qin Zichu a fierce glare.

King Qin Zichu: “…Why are you glaring at me?”

Lin Zhi replied, “Obviously because he just remembered the glorious moment when Your Majesty slashed your own arm with an arrow back when you were Crown Prince.”

King Qin Zichu, exasperated: “How many times are you going to bring that up? Can’t you let it go already? And I only cut myself once…”

He looked at Ying Zheng, who, even clothed, showed numerous wounds on his exposed face and hands.

“I’m not as ruthless to myself as he is.” King Qin Zichu couldn’t help but admire his own son. No wonder King Zhaoxiang of Qin had seen promise in the boy at age three or four—he himself would never have been able to pull this off.

Ying Zheng, with head still lowered, said, “I lost control and hit her. If I didn’t injure myself badly enough, didn’t frighten her, she would definitely use that as ammunition against me.”

Zhu Xiang asked, “Where else did you hurt yourself?”

Ying Zheng shook his head vehemently. “Only my right hand. Just the right hand!”

Zhu Xiang extended a finger and gently touched one of Ying Zheng’s wounds, but quickly retracted it, fearing it might hurt him.

He clenched both fists inside his sleeves and asked, “The wounds on your face and arms—were they all caused by her?”

Ying Zheng nodded. His expression carried a subtle sorrow, one he himself hadn’t noticed.

Zhu Xiang’s eyes flickered.

This incident had indeed been part of his nephew’s plan. But perhaps not even Ying Zheng had anticipated that Zhao Ji would be this vicious.

Because he hadn’t imagined it, he didn’t try to avoid it?

A child’s attachment to their mother is instinctive. Many children, even after enduring disappointment time and again, still long for their parents’ approval and affection.

Ying Zheng wasn’t quite like that—but deep down, he still harbored hopes for his biological mother.

Zhu Xiang took a deep breath. “Xia Tong.”

Zichu immediately responded, “Speak.”

Zhu Xiang said, “I wish to submit a memorial to depose the Queen.”

Everyone’s expression turned to disbelief.

Everything Ying Zheng had done so far was merely to have justifiable grounds to confine Chunhua, so he would no longer be under her control in the future. But Chunhua was, after all, Ying Zheng’s birth mother. No matter how terribly she treated him, the weight of filial piety meant Ying Zheng would still be required to support her with honor.

Moreover, if Chunhua were deposed as Queen, Ying Zheng’s Crown Prince title would be tainted, providing a point of attack for his enemies!

“Zhu Xiang, calm down!” Cai Ze quickly tried to intervene. “We should discuss this at length.”

He knew Zhu Xiang was completely enraged, and there was no stopping him. He could only try to delay him until his temper cooled and reason returned.

But Zhu Xiang shook his head. “I am calm.”

He knew full well—even if Chunhua had injured Ying Zheng to this extent, it would still be meaningless. Chunhua would remain Queen of Qin, and after her death, she would be honored as Empress Dowager of Qin. Worse, Zheng’er would even have to hold his nose and posthumously title her as Grand Empress Dowager.

In history, Zhao Ji and her lover conspired to rebel, and yet even then, Emperor Qin Shi Huang—Ying Zheng—could do nothing about his own mother. Rebellion was far more severe than this.

But Zhu Xiang was determined to directly challenge this deep-rooted societal rule that “filial piety overrides all.”

Perhaps Zichu could, after Zhu Xiang was gone, offer Chunhua a cup of poison, ending her life and sparing Zheng’er from further harm. But Zhu Xiang refused to let such a mother continue to enjoy honors derived from the very child she abused and abandoned.

His child should not have to suffer such humiliation.

“I will submit a memorial at court. I will take full responsibility,” Zhu Xiang said. “Your Majesty, please summon the ministers for discussion. If the majority disagrees, I will withdraw. I do not intend to pressure Your Majesty—only to make my position clear.”

He looked toward the child—scarred, bruised—the only one Xue Ji ever truly loved.

“Ten years have passed, and still she has no remorse. She’s become so malicious as to harm her own flesh and blood. And yet in the future, she’s supposed to use this very child to become the most honored woman in the world.”

Chunhua was even set to become the first Grand Empress Dowager in recorded history, her name forever etched into the annals with ease, overshadowing countless true heroines of later generations.

“Why?” Zhu Xiang’s rough hand gently landed on Ying Zheng’s head, just like in the days before the boy tied up his hair into a topknot. “This is unjust.”