HCT – Chapter 174 Fan of Lord Changping

When Zhu Xiang arrived at the gate of the Xianyang Academy, Ying Zheng was already sitting in a carriage, reading a book while waiting for him.

Even though the troublemaker had already been locked up, Ying Zheng still wanted to personally give his uncle an explanation.

The moment Zhu Xiang saw Ying Zheng, he knew something must have happened to Zhang Liang.

After hearing the whole story, Zhang Sheng’s face turned pale.

Oh my dear brother! This is Xianyang, Qin, not Xinzheng of Han. How could you act so recklessly here!

Zhu Xiang first said, “Zheng’er, you did well,” to show his support for Ying Zheng’s handling of the matter.

Then he frowned at Zhang Sheng: “You brought your younger brother to Xianyang and didn’t tell him what he should and should not do?”

Zhang Sheng’s voice trembled. “I didn’t expect him to be so bold! I thought that in a strange place, he would definitely stick close to me!”

Zhu Xiang was at a loss for words.

Of course, Zhang Liang had a bold nature. If he weren’t, how would he later dare to attempt to assassinate the First Emperor?

But as for Zhang Sheng’s way of being an elder brother—it was just too… sigh. Perhaps Zhu Xiang was asking too much of him. They say the elder brother is like a father, but the Zhang brothers’ father had only passed away last year. Before that, maybe Zhang Sheng had never really been in charge of Zhang Liang’s upbringing. And in this era, men at most supervised their children’s studies; few actually participated in early childhood education. Zhang Sheng probably had no idea how to teach children.

Those ancient men who fully engaged in their children’s upbringing—history books would record them as great educators.

“Take him to see his younger brother,” Ying Zheng ordered, then complained to Zhu Xiang, “I finally had a little less government work and came out to get some fresh air, and I just had to run into someone insulting Uncle Lin.”

Zhu Xiang sent someone to follow Zhang Sheng to retrieve the troublesome little brother, then helped smooth out Ying Zheng’s wrinkled robe. He said, “If Lin Li knew of this, he’d probably laugh until he couldn’t stop.”

Ying Zheng said, “Whether Uncle Lin minds or not, an insult is still an insult.”

“Zheng’er is right.” Zhu Xiang once again affirmed Ying Zheng. “Next time, don’t wait for me in the carriage. There are so many rooms inside the academy.”

Ying Zheng said impatiently, “I know.”

Although he had ignored the servants his uncle sent and directly threw that arrogant brat—whose name he didn’t even bother to remember—into the prison, Ying Zheng still felt uneasy, worried his uncle would be angry.

He had already decided: if his uncle did get angry, he would definitely rebuke him sternly in return.

Zhu Xiang said, “Now that it’s over, do you want to return to the palace to report this matter to Xia Tong, or continue strolling around the academy?”

Ying Zheng said, “I just left the palace, I’m not going back. I’ve already sent someone to report to Father.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Then let’s stroll around. I heard the academy has a new cook who makes excellent roasted meat. Let’s go try it.”

Ying Zheng followed in his uncle’s footsteps and said, “No one makes roasted meat better than Uncle.”

Zhu Xiang chuckled. “Everyone’s roasted meat tastes different. It’s nice to try something new once in a while.”

Ying Zheng had only brought one bodyguard along, leaving the rest hidden. He followed his uncle swaggeringly toward the academy’s dining hall.

Although he had already eaten before leaving the palace, eating another meal wouldn’t hurt.

Lord Changping entered the academy with the Crown Prince, and the newly arrived students all became tense at the sight.

The senior students, however, spoke with the tone of experienced veterans: “This is very common, don’t make a fuss.” Their expressions and tone were brimming with superiority.

Among the new arrivals to Xianyang Academy, some had previously studied at the Jixia Academy.

They compared the two academies: Jixia was more “free,” a place where scholars voiced their opinions without restraint; Xianyang was more orderly, more like a place truly dedicated to study.

At first, they felt uncomfortable, thinking it was better to be able to speak freely at Jixia. But when they saw Lord Changping and the Crown Prince leisurely strolling in Xianyang Academy, and the other students at most giving a bow, or if their hands were occupied, simply stopping and nodding, they began to feel that Xianyang Academy wasn’t so bad after all.

The King of Qi and the princes of Qi hadn’t been to Jixia in a long time. Jixia’s influence on Qi’s court had already weakened greatly.

At Xianyang Academy, students could gain office through recommendation and examinations, or even be assessed directly by the King of Qin himself. In Qin, this was already codified into law.

This gave the students studying at Xianyang a great sense of security, believing that as long as they worked hard enough, they would surely achieve their ambitions.

“Do you think if we ask Lord Changping for guidance, he’ll teach us?” someone asked.

A senior replied, “Of course. But the Crown Prince will glare at you fiercely, annoyed that you disturbed his walk with Lord Changping.”

The person was alarmed. “Would that offend the Crown Prince?”

The senior said, “No, he’ll forget about you in no time. But in that moment, he’ll glare at you. However, if your question is good enough, you might leave a good impression on the Crown Prince. That’s why in the past, many people crowded around Lord Changping to ask questions.”

The person asked doubtfully, “Why in the past?”

The older student sighed: “In the past, many came to ask questions. Lord Changping would throw all those questions to the Crown Prince, and the Crown Prince was merciless with his words.”

The newcomer listened to this vague explanation but still didn’t quite understand.

The older student lowered his voice and said: “If you lose face, you won’t dare to go again. We want to leave a good impression on the Crown Prince, not leave him with the impression that we’re stupid.”

Only then did the newcomer understand.

He sighed: “Without enough talent, to try and recommend oneself before Lord Changping and the Crown Prince—it’s nothing but wishful thinking.”

The older student chuckled: “Of course. Lord Changping is a great sage of our time, who could ever deceive his eyes? If you think you can trick him, well…”

Just then, a slightly plump older student came running, panting heavily, interrupting the older student’s explanation of Lord Changping and the Crown Prince to the new arrival.

“Meng Yi! Why are you still here?” Zhang Cang bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. “I wondered why you weren’t in class—turns out you were here again telling people about Lord Changping. I thought you got yourself into some trouble, so I came looking for you.”

Meng Yi hurriedly cupped his hands: “Sorry, sorry, I just overheard someone being curious about Lord Changping, so I couldn’t help myself.”

Seeing that the older students had things to attend to, the newcomer quickly excused himself.

Once the stranger had left, Zhang Cang wiped the sweat from his forehead and said irritably: “Isn’t your father a friend of Lord Changping? With your family background, it should be easy for you to seek guidance from him. Why are you always worshiping him from afar, but never daring to approach him?”

Meng Yi’s cheeks instantly flushed red. Embarrassed, he said: “I don’t dare.”

Zhang Cang replied: “What’s there not to dare? Your elder brother serves the Crown Prince and even followed Lord Changping on his southern campaign—Lord Changping surely knows you.”

Meng Yi gave a bitter smile: “Precisely because my brother serves the Crown Prince and has been taught by Lord Changping, I don’t dare go.”

He had once brimmed with ambition, eager to catch up to his brother—one brother in civil service, one in military service, both serving the Crown Prince, strengthening the Meng family together.

But several letters from his brother had not only fanned Meng Yi’s admiration into obsession, they also filled him with fear at the thought of asking Lord Changping questions in front of the Crown Prince.

His brother was a few years older, more skilled in writing, and a well-rounded man of both letters and arms—always the one Meng Yi looked up to and chased after.

Yet even his brother lamented in his letters, crying that he could hardly endure staying at the Crown Prince’s side, constantly feeling like dead weight, his confidence utterly crushed.

If even his brother called himself useless, then what was he? Just the useless younger brother, the most useless of the useless.

With the Crown Prince surrounded by brilliant talents, and the Crown Prince himself having shown terrifying intelligence since childhood, Meng Yi feared that if he went to visit Lord Changping, the Crown Prince would casually toss him a question or two, and he would stammer and stumble—only to end up despised by Lord Changping.

“When I have truly mastered my studies, I will definitely go!” Meng Yi clenched his fists.

Zhang Cang sneered: “With your courage, who knows when that day will come. I’ve been noticed by Xunzi, and I’m going to serve him. Are you coming with me? If not, I’ll leave you behind, and you can keep studying alone here at the Xianyang Academy.”

Meng Yi’s face changed in fright: “What do you mean alone? I have plenty of friends, not just you… Wait—why did you tell Xunzi my name?”

Zhang Cang said: “I didn’t. Xunzi asked about you. Your father is Lord Changping’s friend, and Xunzi is Lord Changping’s teacher—of course he knows you. Maybe I even benefited from your reputation when Xunzi noticed me.”

Meng Yi immediately shook his head: “Your talent is already among the best of our peers in Xianyang Academy. You hardly need to ‘benefit’ from me.”

Zhang Cang pressed again: “So, are you going or not?”

Meng Yi forced an ugly smile: “If Xunzi summons me, how could I not go? Refusing would be disrespectful—not only to my teacher, but also to Lord Changping’s teacher.”

Zhang Cang rolled his eyes. “Teacher is teacher—you had to tack on ‘Lord Changping’s teacher’ too?”

Though he respected Lord Changping as well, Meng Yi’s degree of reverence was on a whole other level.

“So, will you go or not?” Zhang Cang asked again.

Meng Yi fidgeted: “Why are you suddenly telling me this?”

Zhang Cang replied: “Seeing Lord Changping reminded me. Why are you trying to dodge the question?”

Meng Yi covered his face with his sleeves: “Fine, fine, I’ll go! But I’m really nervous…”

Seeing his friend’s bashful manner, Zhang Cang burst out laughing.

This friend was a couple of years younger than him, normally arrogant and self-assured, handling matters with a polish beyond his years, and rarely looking up to anyone. To see him in such a state was truly hilarious.

Enraged, Meng Yi kicked Zhang Cang, then dragged him off.

Zhang Cang nearly stumbled from the pull: “What are you doing?”

Meng Yi snapped: “What else! Help me review my books!”

Zhang Cang sighed. Serving Xunzi didn’t even require an exam—was this really necessary? As if being around Lord Changping was some kind of mortal danger.

…

“That one who kept staring at you just now—that’s Meng Yi.” Ying Zheng had long noticed the boy looking their way with eyes full of worship. “He’s famous in Xianyang Academy as your most devoted admirer.”

Zhu Xiang chuckled: “Admires me? If he admires me so much, why hasn’t he come to see me?”

Ying Zheng replied: “He always feels his learning isn’t deep enough, so he doesn’t dare.”

Zhu Xiang smiled and shook his head: “How distant. Zheng’er, how do you intend to deal with Zhang Liang? That’s the boy you had imprisoned.”

Ying Zheng rolled his eyes: “Uncle, you called him a boy yourself—what can I do? He’s family of the Han envoy, son of Korea’s former Chancellor. We’ll just make the envoy apologize, then release him.”

Zhu Xiang said: “Letting him go outright isn’t good. This matter could be small or big, but since you handled it personally, you must impose some punishment—otherwise, what meaning would there be in upholding justice?”

Ying Zheng asked doubtfully: “You don’t mean tattooing his face and exiling him, do you?”

Zhu Xiang laughed: “Of course not. Let’s do labor reform—make him work as a copyist and errand boy in Xianyang City.”

Ying Zheng frowned, instantly perceiving his uncle’s intent: “Uncle, you want to give him guidance—why?”