HCT – Chapter 179 Seasonal Greens Tossed in Sesame Oil

Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng returned once again to the lands of Southern Qin.

The first time they came here, Ying Zheng could still cling to Zhu Xiang’s waist, legs tucked up like a little pendant.

And now? Looking at Zheng’er shooting up in height day by day, his pant legs and sleeves growing shorter with each passing day, Zhu Xiang thought: give it a few more years, and he might be the one hanging on Zheng’er like a pendant.

He chuckled at the thought.

Of course, that was Zhu Xiang talking nonsense. He wasn’t short by any means—he could proudly say that Ying Zheng had inherited his stature.

As for Zichu, that weakling, it’d be better if Zheng’er didn’t inherit too many of that so-called biological father’s features.

With the current, sails filled by favorable winds, their boat sped forward. If not exactly a thousand li a day or swift as lightning, then at least it was much like Li Taibai’s verse: “While the monkeys on both banks still shrieked, the light boat had already passed a thousand mountains.”

When they passed through the middle and lower reaches of the Han River, Wang Jian, having learned in advance that Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng would be coming by, waited early in a riverside town and invited them ashore for a day’s rest.

It seemed that everyone on friendly terms with Zhu Xiang would inevitably cultivate a small vegetable patch wherever they lived, and Wang Jian was no exception.

Once Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng arrived at his home, Wang Jian picked some fresh produce from his rather messy garden—goji leaves, perilla, radish greens, pumpkin tips. He blanched them quickly in boiling water, tossed them with sesame oil and soy sauce, and served up a fragrant dish of seasonal greens.

That was Wang Jian showing off a bit of culinary skill. The rest—the chicken, duck, fish, and larger dishes—he left to the cooks.

Ying Zheng wasn’t picky about food; as long as it tasted good, he would happily eat. Hugging the bowl of vegetables, he ate with great relish.

Even when Wang Jian poured him a cup of green plum wine, he didn’t touch a drop—he was too busy eating.

Seeing Ying Zheng now fully grown, already tall enough to serve in the army, Wang Jian couldn’t help but feel how quickly time had flown.

He compared his height with Ying Zheng and said: “Just one or two years have passed, yet His Highness has grown so much.”

Ying Zheng turned to Zhu Xiang and said: “Uncle, did you hear that? Everyone says I’ve grown quickly. Only you still treat me as a child.”

Zhu Xiang replied to his rebellious nephew: “I haven’t treated you as a child since you were four or five years old. What child manages the household finances?”

Ying Zheng frowned and thought about it. Come to think of it… that was true.

Zhu Xiang laughed, smoothing out the furrows between his brows, and said: “Don’t frown at such a young age. If the wrinkles between your brows grow as deep as mine, what will you do then?”

Seeing how close Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng still were, Wang Jian finally relaxed.

He had truly worried that after becoming Crown Prince, Qin King would distance Ying Zheng from Zhu Xiang. But fortunately—fortunately, that hadn’t happened.

Wang Jian’s cook prepared a lavish meal for Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng. Although in his heart Ying Zheng judged it “not as good as Uncle’s cooking,” he still gave Wang Jian plenty of praise out of courtesy.

Praise more often—because in the future, he didn’t want to end up like that other Great Ying Zheng, who had no generals left to use and could only hold onto Old General Wang Jian’s hands and cry fake tears.

Wang Jian then brought up his household’s heavy cavalry.

After the heavy cavalry had been used once, the Six Kingdoms had come to recognize their terrifying power, and some generals had already thought of ways to counter them. Though they couldn’t train up heavy cavalry in a short time, they could at least equip their infantry and chariots with heavy armor and shields.

Zhu Xiang’s eyebrows twitched. Heavy infantry already?

When heavy infantry clashed with heavy cavalry, it was the cavalry that suffered losses. In history, when heavy cavalry charged, aside from Tang Taizong Li Shimin personally leading his armored cavalry to smash through enemy lines—and not only smashing through once but again and again—the rest were mostly “edge-cutting charges” or “formation harassment.”

The cost of heavy cavalry was far higher than that of heavy infantry. Forget about one-to-one exchanges—even five-to-one was unprofitable. If the enemy was prepared, then after piercing through, heavy cavalry could easily find themselves trapped deep inside enemy lines, with no guarantee of breaking out again. And even if they did break out, the direction of their charge might not achieve any effective disruption.

Only a general with extraordinary strategic vision and courage could lead cavalry in repeated charges that directly shattered enemy formations.

For example, Xiang Yu—who loved to personally lead his men in straight assaults on enemy command centers for decapitation strikes.

And for a commander to not only punch through once but turn back and charge again and again—such talent and boldness bordered on the divine. That kind of leader had to fight as if with a “heaven’s eye,” able to instantly spot weaknesses in enemy lines, while also being wealthy enough to afford such costly tactics.

For instance, Li Shimin—who often went against the grain of military strategy, constantly riding the edge of disaster (yet somehow never actually tipping over).

As for the heavy cavalry of the Jin and Yuan armies, they only dared to charge Song troops who lacked famous generals to lead them.

Zhu Xiang was just about to suggest that armored cavalry could advance close to enemy archers, shoot from short range to disrupt formations; or attack from both flanks to cut into the outer ranks of enemy troops.

But Wang Jian had already spoken first.

Zhu Xiang lifted his wine cup, the corners of his brows and eyes filled with a trace of helplessness.

So Wang Jian hadn’t come to ask for advice at all—he just wanted someone to share his cavalry insights with?

Ying Zheng listened with great interest and said, “One day, I too will personally lead a cavalry charge.”

Wang Jian immediately said, “Don’t!”

Zhu Xiang flicked his finger against Ying Zheng’s forehead: “Don’t even think about it!”

Ying Zheng gave a cold snort—only to get knocked again by Zhu Xiang.

Seeing Ying Zheng’s unyielding, rebellious look, Wang Jian roared with laughter.

Though Crown Prince Zheng had grown up and become the heir of Qin, at heart he was still the same little Zheng’er—unchanged in the slightest.

That was truly a relief.

After listening to Wang Jian share his insights on using cavalry in frontal combat, Zhu Xiang continued sailing downstream along the Han River.

When he reached Wuhan, he once again encountered Meng Wu and Zhang Ruo.

The two of them were actually sitting on a large boat, leisurely drifting along the river, looking very carefree. Zhu Xiang teased them at once, saying it seemed the work of a Commandery Governor must be quite relaxed.

“I met your other son, Meng Yi. He, together with another student of Xunzi, Zhang Cang, is serving under him at the Academy of Xianyang,” Zhu Xiang said. “I heard that at the Academy he is eloquent, persuasive, and very considerate in his dealings with others. But when I saw him, he seemed far too shy.”

Meng Wu almost dropped the chicken leg in his hand in fright. “Shy?”

Zhu Xiang nodded. “Shy.”

Meng Wu’s chicken leg fell to the ground. “Shy?!”

Ying Zheng said, “He really is shy. In front of Uncle, he couldn’t even speak properly.”

Zhang Ruo smiled and said, “Perhaps when he saw Lord Changping and the Crown Prince, he was simply too nervous.”

Zhu Xiang waved his hand. “I get along well with Meng Wu, and I can even be considered his elder. Why would he be so nervous? Zheng’er threw the former Han Chancellor’s sons into prison, and when I went there, I scolded them harshly. When I invited the Zhang brothers for a meal on the very first day, they weren’t the least bit nervous around me. So why would Meng Yi be nervous?”

Meng Wu said, “I’ll write him a letter and ask.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Good. Be tactful, don’t frighten him.”

Meng Wu picked up the chicken leg he had accidentally dropped. “Spoiling a son too much won’t do him any good. He’s not that fragile.”

Zhu Xiang pointed at Ying Zheng. “Look at Zheng’er—say that again, that spoiling him won’t work?”

Ying Zheng: “?”

Meng Wu and Zhang Ruo glanced at each other, then both burst out laughing.

Ying Zheng’s eyelids twitched. He very much wanted to say he had never been spoiled at all. But in order to save his uncle some face, he held his tongue.

After leaving the boat, Zhu Xiang went for a walk through the nearby rice fields, where he saw many destitute refugees from Chu, dressed in rags.

Zhang Ruo said, “More and more refugees are arriving from Chu these days. Fortunately, I still have plenty of unused land here.”

Zhang Ruo was the Governor of Qianzhong Commandery. The Yunmengze Plain—later known as the Dongting Lake Plain—was within his territory.

In later generations, the Dongting Lake Plain would become fertile farmland. But now, it was swampy, plagued by miasma, infested with jungles, and ravaged by schistosomiasis. It had once been the land of conquered tribal states that Chu had exiled people to—largely still half-tribal in system.

It was here that Zhu Xiang had first led troops into battle.

When Zhu Xiang had settled Chu refugees on the Dongting Lake Plain, most of it had still been desolate, with only farmland near the towns.

Now, according to Zhang Ruo, the newly reclaimed farmland had already grown to three times what it had been back then.

“I didn’t expect there to be so many Chu refugees,” Zhu Xiang’s heart clenched, as if squeezed by an unseen hand.

He knew well that although most of the refugees now had fled the Chu civil war, the spark that ignited this war had been lit by him.

Even if given another chance, he would still have done the same. But seeing the bitter, haggard faces of the refugees, the weight pressing on his heart was not lessened by his decisiveness.

Meng Wu said, “Judging by the refugees, both sides in Chu’s conflict have been fighting with real fury. They say it’s because of Xiang Yan.”

Zhu Xiang frowned. “Xiang Yan? I’ve heard Wang Jian say he’s not bad at all, a competent general.”

Meng Wu chuckled. “Competent—too competent. He routed the Jingzhao clan’s generals, cut down thousands of their soldiers.”

Zhu Xiang thought for a moment, then understood Meng Wu’s meaning.

The Jingzhao clan’s secession had originally been nothing but an internal struggle among the Mi clan, and with Qin lurking menacingly at the border, both sides had fought with restraint, waiting for negotiations.

But once Xiang Yan entered the field, the difference in strength was overwhelming—he crushed the Jingzhao clan’s army at once.

Ancient armies mostly had little to no discipline. They were like locusts wherever they marched. And Chu had a system of military merit by beheading enemies.

Once the opposing army was scattered, Chu’s soldiers had no idea what their leaders were planning, and Xiang Yan couldn’t possibly warn every man to hold back. Thus the Jingzhao clan’s losses grew far beyond expectations.

Seeing Xiang Yan’s ferocity, the Jingzhao clan began to fear that the Chu king wouldn’t negotiate with them as they had hoped, but would instead try to annihilate them. So they, too, stopped holding back, fighting with ruthless desperation.

That drove both sides’ casualties up, and the civil war intensified.

If not for Wang Jian and Li Mu appearing on the Chu battlefield, alarming the Five States enough to send troops to mediate, the fighting might have reached a decisive conclusion.

Neither Qin, nor the other five states, wanted Chu’s civil war to actually be resolved with a clear victor.

Meng Wu said, “I had thought that after this internal war, Lord Chunshen would be finished. But unexpectedly, the new Crown Prince of Chu protected him. Though Chunshen has survived several assassination attempts, he’s still safe for now. It’s General Xiang Yan who might be in danger.”

Ying Zheng perked up at the mention of Xiang Yan. “Oh? Do the Jingzhao clan want the Chu king to hand Xiang Yan over as a scapegoat? Surely the Chu king wouldn’t treat a meritorious general like that.”

Meng Wu nodded. “Indeed, the Chu king doesn’t want to surrender Xiang Yan. But the Jingzhao clan refuses to compromise, saying they must kill Xiang Yan in vengeance. For now, they’ve only paused the fighting—the negotiations aren’t finished.”

Zhu Xiang’s mouth twitched.

Xiatong and Zheng’er had already completed their mourning rites, he and Zheng’er had returned to Nanqin, and still the Chu peace talks weren’t over.

But Qin’s expansion had already been too fast, threatening indigestion. For the sake of a smoother unification later, Xiatong was doing his utmost to restrain things now. Otherwise, Chu might already have lost half its lands to Qin.

Still, the more Chu refugees Nanqin absorbed, the easier it would be for Qin to govern Chu’s old territory in the future.

Let them continue to tear themselves apart.

Zhu Xiang took a sip of wine, realizing his heart had grown harder.

Perhaps he was gradually getting used to this era.

“I should return to Wu Commandery,” Zhu Xiang said. “Spread word in Chu that I’ve gone back to Nanqin. Send troops to escort more Chu refugees into Nanqin.”

Zhang Ruo and Meng Wu both laughed. “Good.”