HCT – Chapter 180 Fresh Whole Fish Banquet

The Crown Prince Zheng and Lord Changping returned to Wu Commandery, where the docks were packed with people who had come to welcome them.

Many commoners put aside their work for the moment and crowded along both banks of the river to greet the Crown Prince and Lord Changping.

Not knowing how exactly to express their welcome, they imitated the old rituals of worshiping deities—waving ceremonial objects woven from branches, leaves, and flowers, while shouting out Chu folk songs so shrill and muddled that Zhu Xiang could barely make out the words.

For a brief moment, Zhu Xiang felt as if he were watching the dragon and lion dances performed during dragon boat festivals in later generations.

Ying Zheng stood tall and proud at the bow of the boat, nodding in acknowledgment to the crowds on both shores.

Zhu Xiang stood behind him, knowing well that this scene wasn’t one he ought to laugh at, but still finding it hard to hold back his amusement.

Zhu Xiang asked, “Zheng’er, how does it feel to be sincerely loved by the people?”

Ying Zheng looked puzzled. “The people? They aren’t baixing (commoners). They’re shuren (lowborn).”

The Book of Songs · Ya · Tianbao says: “The masses of li and baixing, all cherish your virtue.” In the Warring States period, “baixing” referred to nobles, while “qunli” were the common people. The phrase “limin baixing” (the common masses) was originally two separate terms joined together.

Zhu Xiang blinked and said, “Nowadays, many nobles have fallen into the ranks of the commoners, and many commoners have gained surnames through military merit. Even the old hereditary clans have merged their titles with surnames. It’s only natural that the masses would become the baixing. Why not, in the future, grant surnames to all under heaven?”

Ying Zheng pondered. “That would be a good way to win over the people. But wouldn’t the scholars oppose it?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “You’re only granting the people surnames—you’re not dictating what those surnames should be.”

Ying Zheng looked at him oddly. “Uncle, that sounds like empty talk.”

Zhu Xiang chuckled. “It’s not. Think harder.”

Unhappy at his uncle slipping back into teaching mode again, Ying Zheng frowned in concentration.

Zhu Xiang raised his hand—the calloused, thick-jointed hand of a man long used to gripping weapons—and gently rubbed between Ying Zheng’s brows.

Ying Zheng’s frown loosened. “Having wrinkles isn’t so bad. It makes me look more mature.”

Zhu Xiang laughed. “Only the young want to appear mature. Once you’ve truly grown up, you’ll wish you could stay a youth forever.”

At this, Ying Zheng thought of the fear of death he had seen in his dream-self as the great Qin Emperor. His brow instinctively furrowed again, only to be smoothed out once more by his uncle’s calloused fingers.

It tickled. A little annoying.

Ying Zheng had no choice but to try hard to keep his brows relaxed.

“I’ve thought of it,” Ying Zheng declared. “For a ruler to grant surnames to all under heaven is to acknowledge that all commoners may one day become nobles of Qin. Even the people of the Six States would thereby become Qin’s people.”

With that realization, Ying Zheng’s eyes lit up. “To grant surnames to the people is to grant them identity. To grant them land is to grant them livelihood. To grant both name and livelihood—the hearts of the people will naturally return to us!”

Zhu Xiang clapped twice for him. “Zheng’er, you’re ready to graduate as a student.”

Ying Zheng rolled his eyes. “I graduated long ago… Look! Warships! Teacher brought warships to fetch us! Teacher!”

Stretching his arm high, he waved vigorously at the massive battleship.

Watching his nephew’s childish excitement, Zhu Xiang could only shake his head with a smile and join in the waving toward Li Mu.

Standing at the bow, Li Mu saw his friend and his student still as exuberant as ever. Smiling, he sighed in relief.

Since Zichu’s accession hadn’t changed their personalities much, both Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er had been able to keep their cheerfulness.

“There’s no need to sail a warship out just to fetch us. We’d have met at the dock anyway.” Zhu Xiang complained once they boarded the deck. “It must be expensive to sail one of these.”

Li Mu replied calmly, “We just fought a battle with the Chu navy.”

Zhu Xiang: “…”

Zhu Xiang looked around curiously, while the soldiers still carrying the smell of gunpowder grinned foolishly at Lord Changping.

“You just fought a battle?” Zhu Xiang was astonished. “Chu still has a navy?”

Li Mu replied, “Of course they do. The Chu navy once fought against the Wu-Yue navy. But after Wu and Yue were destroyed, Chu’s navy fell into decline and was mostly used for transporting supplies. Now that I’ve built up Qin’s navy, Chu has begun to rebuild theirs as well.”

Ying Zheng hadn’t been on a warship in a long time. He busied himself poking around here and there, unable to stay still, while asking, “But isn’t Chu in the middle of a civil war? Why would the King of Chu send his navy?”

Li Mu said calmly, “Most likely because they knew the two of you were coming and wanted to give you a scare. If they have the leisure for such things, it means peace talks should be near success.”

“Give us a scare?” Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng glanced at each other, then both broke into helpless laughter.

Did Chu really think about ambushing them on the Yangtze? Perhaps not an ambush—maybe just trying to intimidate them, and hopefully frighten them into some misstep.

“Was it Xiang Yan or Lord Chunshen behind this idea?” Zhu Xiang asked. “What a lousy trick. What if Zheng and I were timid and actually got frightened?”

Li Mu shook his head. “Don’t know, and no need to know. Do you want to stroll around the warship more, or return quickly to Wucheng? The people in the city have been waiting at the docks for some time already.”

“Of course we should hurry back,” Zhu Xiang said.

Ying Zheng nodded. “Let’s return first, then come back to the warships later. Teacher, tell me about your legendary story of breaking through Chu with a thousand cavalry!”

Li Mu looked puzzled. “When did I ever break through Chu with just a thousand cavalry?”

Ying Zheng looked equally puzzled. “Huh? But that’s what I heard people in Xianyang say.”

Li Mu said, “I’ve submitted reports for every battle I’ve fought. Zheng, you must have read them.”

“I did,” Ying Zheng said. “And it said you broke through Chu with a thousand cavalry.”

Li Mu: “?”

Ying Zheng: “?”

The two stared wide-eyed at each other, while Zhu Xiang couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter.

“Clearly, the two of you just see it differently,” Zhu Xiang chuckled. “What Zheng means is that time you led your cavalry deep into Chu territory, riding back and forth.”

“Oh, that?” Li Mu realized. “But I didn’t break Chu. I never took Chendu.”

“You pierced right through their country,” Ying Zheng insisted. “How is that not breaking through?”

Zhu Xiang, who had just calmed down, burst out laughing again.

Li Mu’s dumbfounded expression, paired with Ying Zheng’s stubborn insistence, was simply too funny. Who would believe these two, with such fearsome reputations, could look like this?

And so, the master and disciple pointlessly bickered over whether or not Li Mu had “broken through Chu with a thousand cavalry.”

Zhu Xiang strolled off with his hands behind his back, inspecting the various weapons on the warship—especially the gunpowder-based ones.

Turning back toward the pair still arguing, he said, “Using catapults to launch gunpowder jars is too inefficient. Have you ever thought of using bronze… I mean, fine metal, to cast a big round barrel, then using gunpowder to propel stone or iron balls?”

The conversation between Li Mu and Ying Zheng came to a halt. Both of them sighed in unison.

Li Mu said, “Let’s keep such discussions private.”

Ying Zheng chimed in, “Uncle!”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Ah, right, okay.”

He remembered that both Li Mu and Zheng forbade discussing weapons and warfare concepts in public. So he continued his “sightseeing,” organizing his little “wild ideas” to share with Li Mu later back home.

The docks were packed with people. Some had even dyed paper with pigments and crafted them into colorful cloud-like flowers to decorate the festivities.

Southern Chu had originally lacked paper. But ever since Zhu Xiang arrived, with Chu’s abundant raw materials for papermaking, paper had become much more common. Otherwise, people wouldn’t have used it to make such decorations.

Still, until papermaking became mechanized, paper was relatively precious to ordinary folk. The fact that the people of Wucheng used paper flowers to welcome Zhu Xiang showed both their affection for him and the prosperity of Wucheng.

Han Fei and Li Si, who were acting as temporary governors of Wu Commandery, came forward to greet them.

Both of them looked thinner and darker from sun exposure, but their bodies seemed leaner, healthier, and steadier. Their brows and eyes also carried more weight, with less of the sharpness of youth.

Li Si especially—his face once carried an air of acidity and harshness, but now he appeared more composed and dignified.

“Your Highness, Lord Zhu Xiang,” Han Fei said proudly, “we have not shamed the task entrusted to us.”

Ying Zheng exclaimed in surprise: “You’re not stammering anymore!”

Han Fei drawled: “Speak slowly, break it into short sentences—no stammering.”

Ying Zheng put away his astonishment. Oh. Still stammering.

Li Si looked a little uneasy: “All the documents, ledgers, and case files have already been sorted and are ready at any time for the Crown Prince and Lord Changping to review.”

Zhu Xiang laughed: “What are you nervous about? Now that Zheng’er and I are back, you two still have to keep working, don’t you? Unless you’d rather wear out my Zheng’er?”

Ying Zheng ignored Zhu Xiang’s teasing. He looked left and right, asking: “Where’s my aunt?”

Han Fei answered: “Lady Changping is in Nanyue. She’ll be back soon.”

Ying Zheng’s eyes nearly bulged out: “What? Aunt went to Nanyue? Why! Nanyue is a barbarous land, far too dangerous!”

Li Mu was puzzled as well: “Xue Ji went to Nanyue? Could it be because of the cotton seeds I gifted them?”

Zhu Xiang was speechless: “You didn’t even know where Xue went?”

Li Mu replied: “Xue has a strong will of her own. I only sent a squad of guards to protect her. What, did she not wait properly for your return and you’re upset?”

Zhu Xiang chuckled: “Not upset. Zheng’er and I will just wait for her return.”

Ying Zheng muttered: “Well, I am upset. What’s so great about Nanyue? How could Aunt care for Nanyue and not for me! No way! I’m going to Nanyue to find her!”

Li Si hurried to say: “Lady Changping already sent word—she’s left Nanyue and should return to Wu Commandery tomorrow.”

Only then was Ying Zheng satisfied: “Fine, then Uncle and I will go to the docks tomorrow to meet Aunt. Uncle, I’m hungry.”

Zhu Xiang sighed: “All right, all right, Uncle will go change clothes and then cook for you.”

Ying Zheng said: “We caught so many fish—today we’re eating fish.”

Zhu Xiang replied: “You really never tire of it.”

Han Fei quickly tried to persuade him: “Your Highness, Lord Zhu Xiang has just returned from a long journey. There are cooks at home…”

Ying Zheng cut him off: “For Uncle, cooking is rest.”

Zhu Xiang told Han Fei: “Let me do it. Besides, it’s been a while since you two have tasted my cooking. Han Fei, Li Si—any food you can’t eat?”

Han Fei and Li Si hastily shook their heads.

Zhu Xiang nodded, then went to change his clothes. He didn’t even bother asking Li Mu. A man who’s marched in war—what dietary restrictions could he possibly have? Whatever Zhu Xiang cooked, Li Mu would eat.

Li Mu crossed his arms, his face full of helplessness.

Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng declined the welcoming banquet prepared by the people of Wu Commandery, claiming they were too tired from travel—yet once back home, Zhu Xiang personally took up the ladle to cook a banquet for himself as a “welcome back” meal. Tired, was he?

Ying Zheng also went to change his clothes and unpack, pulling Li Mu along to look at the decree from King Zichu of Qin.

From that moment on, Li Mu was officially titled Marquis Wu Cheng (Wucheng Jun).

Han Fei and Li Si looked at each other in disbelief.

Han Fei asked: “A decree bestowing the title of Marquis Wu Cheng? Shouldn’t it be received with incense burning, ritual bathing, and formal kneeling?”

Li Si replied: “How should I know?”

The two future leaders of Legalism sighed in unison.

Legalism valued rules and order above all— But what could they do when their superiors were this casual?

He could only pretend not to see it.

“Li Si, you said you avoid eating fish because of bones—you’re lying.”

“What lying! Being afraid of fish bones isn’t a taboo! If you’re worried, just eat slowly!”

“Hehe.”

“What are you laughing at!”

“Hm? What?”

Han Fei looked utterly bewildered—he was just happy that Li Si was finally eating fish, wasn’t he? Li Si looked at Han Fei’s blank expression and nearly choked on his own anger.

Zhu Xiang changed into clean clothes, twisted his hair into a messy bun on top of his head, covered it with a net, and started cooking. Although he was the head chef, he was only in charge of cooking itself—washing and chopping vegetables and other manual labor was handled by the household cooks. It wasn’t too tiring.

The fish had been caught by Ying Zheng after much effort, so Zhu Xiang couldn’t afford to waste even a bit of it.

He scraped off the fish scales with the back of a knife, washed the fish clean, coated it with egg batter, and deep-fried it until crispy—perfect for drinking.

He sliced the fish meat into paper-thin translucent slices, boiled the bones for stock, then added pickled cabbage, pickled radish, and pickled chili. Finally, he poured a sizzling wok of pepper oil over it—making the most classic sour fish stew.

He picked out the fish roe, intestines, and belly, crushed them, mixed them with beaten egg, and steamed it all into a custard that carried the fresh taste of fish—almost like eating crab roe or sea urchin.

When Ying Zheng had been fishing, he refused to let even thumb-sized fish go, intent on fishing them all to extinction. The tiny fish were gutted, cleaned, and deep-fried in soybean oil until golden crispy, then served with a dipping mix of chili powder, cumin powder, and roasted soybean powder. After frying a batch, Zhu Xiang immediately popped two small fish into his mouth to test the flavor.

“Uncle! You’re sneaking food!” The now not-so-little Ying Zheng jumped out from the kitchen doorway, sternly accusing him.

Zhu Xiang picked up the largest fried fish, dipped it in seasoning, and stuffed it into his nephew’s mouth: “A chef tasting the food—how is that sneaking?”

Ying Zheng crunched through the crispy fish, smacked his lips, then stole two more pieces before finally carrying off the dwindling plate of fried fish.

Zhu Xiang shook his head, feeling he had failed in his upbringing—his greedy little nephew had been stealing food since childhood and still hadn’t grown out of it.

Zhu Xiang cooked; Ying Zheng served dishes; Li Mu cut up fresh fruit to arrange on the table, both appetizing and refreshing.

Han Fei and Li Si exchanged glances—should they also go learn some cooking?

So embarrassing! Fortunately, they could at least help with pouring wine and tea later.

Once Ying Zheng brought in the dishes, Li Mu didn’t wait for Zhu Xiang—he opened the feast himself, drinking sweet rice wine with the boy while snacking on fried fish and fried fish scales. Han Fei and Li Si didn’t dare touch them. How could they eat before Zhu Xiang arrived?

By the time Zhu Xiang came out carrying stir-fried vegetables and beef, Li Mu and Ying Zheng had nearly finished off the fried fish and fish scales. Han Fei and Li Si looked at Zhu Xiang awkwardly, worried he’d be angry.

But Zhu Xiang acted as if he hadn’t noticed, simply saying: “Stop eating snacks, it’s time for the real meal.”

Li Mu poured him a cup of rice wine and had the plates of fried fish and scales taken away.

Only then did Han Fei and Li Si realize—those had only been appetizers Zhu Xiang put out so Li Mu and Zheng’er wouldn’t go hungry. The two of them were miserable. Why hadn’t the Crown Prince and Lord Wu Cheng said anything? Not everyone understood Zhu Xiang’s habits! They regretted not tasting the fried fish and scales when they had the chance.

“Your pickled fish is still the best.” Li Mu picked up a piece of tender fish, chewed up the bones along with the flesh, and swallowed. The sour fish stew was tangy and spicy without being harsh, leaving the mouth watering, sweat beading on the back, and the spirit refreshed.

Ying Zheng, being a big eater with little care for manners, simply scooped up a ladleful of fish and broth and dumped it over rice, devouring it without hesitation.

Han Fei and Li Si, watching him eat with such single-mindedness, thought—maybe this was the most proper way to eat sour fish stew. Wasn’t it meant to be eaten with rice?

Zhu Xiang noticed their thoughts and said: “Pickled fish broth is delicious with both rice and noodles. I’ve prepared both.”

Han Fei and Li Si looked at each other again, then, encouraged by Zhu Xiang’s look, indulged a little—Li Si took rice, Han Fei took noodles. Though there wasn’t a strict north-south divide in food back then, their choices already reflected the preferences of future northerners and southerners.

Li Mu ate just enough to settle his stomach, then chatted with Zhu Xiang. He talked about the many small, messy wars in Wu, Nanyue, and Chu. Zhu Xiang talked about the various changes in Qin after Zichu’s ascension

One thing led to another—Li Mu began describing the interesting customs he’d seen in Nanyue; Zhu Xiang complained that King Zichu was still too immature, and Chancellor Lin Zhi was no better, leaving Cai Ze overburdened.

Han Fei and Li Si listened to Zhu Xiang openly complaining about the Qin King and Chancellor, heads down, wanting to cover their ears.

Meanwhile, Ying Zheng spent most of the meal eating, occasionally looking up to insert a few words—either agreeing or rebutting—and throwing in a few curses about the mediocrity of court officials.

Li Mu said, “Public execution? This Qin King is indeed decisive.”

His expression showed he was quite satisfied with the current Qin King. Zhu Xiang could finally feel a little relieved. Though, given his close friendship with the King, his own future might not be so relaxed.

Li Mu lifted his cup and drained the wine in one gulp.