HCT – Chapter 208 A Half-Day of Leisure Together

When Li Mu escorted Bai Qi back to Xianyang, Zhu Xiang was in the middle of stuffing sausages.

Seeing Zhu Xiang’s hands covered in meat, Bai Qi waved him off, telling Zhu Xiang to continue and not mind him.

After Bai Qi returned to the small courtyard he used to live in, packed his things, washed up a bit, and came out in a fresh change of clothes, he finally noticed that the person helping Zhu Xiang stuff sausages was none other than the King of Qin, Zichu.

Bai Qi was speechless for a moment, then sighed and bowed to the Qin king.

Zichu didn’t mind at all. “Lord Lian is taking a walk in the fields. Someone, take Lord Bai to him. Zhu Xiang and I still need to keep working. Lord Bai, make yourself comfortable.”

Bai Qi asked, “Is there anything this old man can help with?”

Zichu said, “No need—Zhu Xiang! The sausage casing is about to burst, stop stuffing meat!”

Zhu Xiang snapped, “Then hurry up and squeeze it down!”

Seeing Zichu so busy stuffing sausages, Bai Qi said nothing more and followed the servant to chat with Lian Po.

After changing into fresh clothes, Li Mu took Zichu’s place so Zichu could rest for a moment.

Zichu washed his hands, massaged his shoulders, and said, “I didn’t expect this to be so tiring. Couldn’t you have asked a servant to do it?”

Zhu Xiang said, “You wanted to personally make sausages for Empress Dowagers Huayang and Xia, then have the scholars praise the Qin king’s filial piety. That was your idea. What, you regret it already?”

Zichu complained, “I suddenly realized—I only need to pretend to do it. Everything else can be handed off to others, and they can still praise me.”

Zhu Xiang snorted at his hypocrisy. “Can’t you be genuinely filial just once?”

Zichu protested, “How am I not being filial?”

Zhu Xiang said, “You’re already complaining about being tired from making sausages for them—where’s your filial piety in that?”

Stuffing meat while bickering, Zhu Xiang didn’t stop talking.

Li Mu worked skillfully and silently, listening to the two quarrel about trivial nonsense. Occasionally, he couldn’t help the corners of his lips from curving up.

Once Zichu got tired of talking, gulped down water, and even fed Zhu Xiang a drink while he was at it, Li Mu finally asked, “Where are Cai Ze and Lin Li? They aren’t helping?”

Zichu said, “You know how much trouble Zhu Xiang piled on me the moment he came back—they’re naturally swamped. Xunzi is busy reforming the Xianyang Academy. Zhu Xiang has to deliver meals there, or else Xunzi gets so absorbed he forgets to eat.”

Li Mu asked, confused, “The Chancellor and the Prime Minister are both extremely busy—why isn’t Your Majesty busy?”

Zichu: “…”

Zichu said, “Li Mu, oh Li Mu…”

Li Mu replied, “Hm? I am here.”

Zichu said seriously, “Fortunately I am your king. Otherwise, with that mouth of yours, who knows how many people you’d offend. Other states could use a simple slander tactic on you and it would work every time.”

Zhu Xiang echoed, “Exactly, exactly. I told you he’s naturally dark.”

Zhu Xiang had long judged Li Mu as “naturally black-hearted.” Li Mu had asked before what that meant. Now, hearing Zhu Xiang slander him again, Li Mu’s mouth twitched, but he ignored him.

He argued to Zichu, “What was wrong with what I said?”

Zichu said, “There are things that I can say, but you cannot. Understand?”

Li Mu declared confidently, “I do not.”

Zichu turned to Zhu Xiang. “And you want Li Mu to serve as my Chancellor? Are you trying to anger me to death!”

Zhu Xiang said earnestly, “Believe in yourself. Disasters endure a thousand years. You will surely live a long life.”

Zichu nodded. “True.”

Li Mu: “…”

Your Majesty… Zhu Xiang just called you a disaster, and you accepted it just like that?

Li Mu knew what Zichu meant. He was doing it on purpose.

If it were one of the previous Qin kings, Li Mu would have spoken far more cautiously.

Although he quietly accepted being “sent” to Qin by Zhao, feeling little resistance on the surface, the matter still left a mark on his heart. He constantly contemplated how to keep himself safe.

But Zichu was different. Acting a bit unrestrained in front of him might actually be safer.

Besides, if he didn’t act this way, Zhu Xiang might really push for Zichu to summon him to Xianyang to replace Cai Ze as Chancellor—something Zichu had entertained more than once, especially since Cai Ze kept trying to resign.

Li Mu was comfortable in Southern Qin and had no desire to overwork himself as Chancellor in the capital.

When he was in Hanzhong Palace, he overheard some gossipy officials chattering:

How the Qin king once sent soldiers to surround the Chancellor’s estate, then another time surrounded the Prime Minister’s residence—pure chaos, no one knowing what was going on.

After hearing this, Zhu Xiang asked Zichu what happened.

Zichu, being the clueless king he was, explained it away as stopping them from slacking off, stopping secret messages from being sent, or just trying to give them a scare—ridiculous and baffling reasons. Summing it up, either clueless Zichu and sly Lin Li teamed up to bully Cai Ze, or clueless Zichu was trying to curry favor with Cai Ze by sacrificing Lin Li.

Zhu Xiang commented, “If Qin were to collapse in the second generation, its downfall would be because of King Zichu.”

Zichu responded, “What? Zheng’er will cause Qin’s downfall? I’m writing to him and telling him you said he’s the king who destroys the country!”

Back then, Li Mu had thought: he once believed that after Zichu inherited the throne, Zhu Xiang should’ve finally been able to relax. But he was wrong. Now he wished they could revert to the days when the late king was still alive, when Zichu and Zhu Xiang were still normal.

Is Qin really fine under this pair?

And so Li Mu resolved—he must never let Zhu Xiang recommend him for the Chancellor position. Only Cai Ze could manage Zichu.

After establishing his “naturally dark-hearted and blunt” persona in front of Zichu, the king indeed gave up the idea of summoning Li Mu back to Xianyang.

He decided Cai Ze was much easier to deal with.

Although honest advice may be harsh, kings are still human—they, too, prefer not to hear unpleasant truths if they can avoid them.

Even without an electric sausage-making machine, using a foot treadle to turn the pulley and push out the meat, the sausage-stuffing went fairly quickly. It had only been slow earlier because Zichu was clumsy and held Zhu Xiang back. With Li Mu taking over, Zhu Xiang quickly finished stuffing the batch.

Zichu took over from Li Mu midway and worked for a while longer. Zhu Xiang, having grown accustomed to luxury and now finding frugality intolerable, told Zichu to hurry up and go stack the firewood instead of getting in the way.

Sausages could be hung directly from the kitchen window to air-dry with the cooking smoke, or they could be smoked—smoking not only increased the flavor but also sped up the drying process. Freshly stuffed sausages, if cooked and sliced immediately, would still be filled with minced meat; only once they were completely dried would they taste good.

Smoking would increase carcinogens, but humans had always ignored such things when it came to delicious food. In any case, such a small amount would not kill anyone—talking about toxicity without considering dosage was foolish. And in order for Zichu to deliver these “filial piety sausages” as soon as possible, Zhu Xiang naturally chose smoking.

In later generations, the smoked sausages of the Sichuan Basin would become the most famous. True Sichuan smoked sausage must be smoked with cypress branches; if other types of firewood were mixed in, it would no longer be considered authentic.

There were many cypress trees in the palace gardens. With one command from Qin King Zichu, the palace attendants chopped down an entire cypress and delivered it.

Zhu Xiang had only wanted some cypress branches, so when Zichu had an entire tree cut down, he was speechless. He used the remaining cypress wood to roast a whole lamb, perfectly suited for welcoming Lord Bai and washing away the dust of travel.

When Bai Qi returned to Xianyang, Cai Ze, Lin Zhi, and Xunzi all set aside their work temporarily to welcome him back.

Zhu Xiang soaked high-quality wine from the Qin palace cellar with goji berries and poured each elder a cup of goji wine. With a short sword in one hand and a cloth glove to avoid burns in the other, they cut meat and drank happily, not caring that their wine cups were covered in grease. Only Xunzi cared about propriety and asked Zhu Xiang to slice his meat for him.

Bai Qi and Lian Po took turns inquiring about Li Mu’s battles in Southern Qin, especially the defense of Guangling in which Zhu Xiang participated.

When they learned that Li Mu had crossed the river overnight, that Xiang Yan had hidden near Guangling City on the first night of his attack, but that Zhu Xiang struck before Xiang Yan’s camp was even built and completely defeated him the next day—they first scolded Li Mu for letting Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng take such a risk, then burst into loud laughter, declaring that Zhu Xiang could now call himself a renowned general based solely on the Battle of Guangling.

Lian Fu’s eyes shone brightly. Although he had already heard about the battle from fleeing Chu soldiers who crossed the river, he had thought their accounts too exaggerated. Even if Xiang Yan’s 100,000 troops were a herd of pigs, scattering them would still take time. And Zhu Xiang had never led troops before—how could he destroy Xiang Yan’s 100,000-strong force in just a single day?

Given Xiang Yan’s past record, he was certainly not an incompetent commander.

After listening to Li Mu’s recounting, Lian Fu realized that the truth was even more unbelievable than the rumors. Perhaps Xiang Yan hadn’t been weak at all—rather, Zhu Xiang’s psychological tactics had been perfectly chained together; even he himself wouldn’t have known how to counter them.

Bai Qi shook his head. “It’s fortunate I never encountered you back then, otherwise I’d have suffered the first defeat of my life.”

Bai Qi’s words were an exaggeration. If he were commanding, he would never have used Xiang Yan’s strategy of direct assault. Instead, he would have concentrated his superior forces to trap Guangling City and fight by besieging the city and attacking reinforcements. He was simply praising a junior.

But after speaking, he reflected: if he had led Qin troops to attack, the chances of victory would have been high.

Yet if he himself were in Xiang Yan’s place during this battle, he wouldn’t have been able to fight it either—he would have simply retreated.

Once Li Mu returned to reinforce, the attacking force would be far smaller than both defenders and reinforcements. What battle could be fought under those conditions? Xiang Yan had also been harmed by the erratic commands of the Chu king and the Southern Chu commander.

But who could have predicted that after Qin had already abandoned multiple cities, the inexperienced Zhu Xiang would insist on defending a city that appeared utterly useless to Qin? All because he was enraged by the enemy’s slaughtering and burning of cities, choosing to confront a veteran Chu general head-on.

The current Lord of Changping, Zhu Xiang, was indeed still the same commoner Zhu Xiang who had once traveled alone to Changping.

Lian Po cast a sidelong glance at Bai Qi. “Are you showing off? Showing off that you’ve never been defeated?”

Bai Qi replied, “I’m merely stating facts. Li Mu has never been defeated either.”

Lian Po snorted. “He’s young—he’ll suffer defeat someday.”

Li Mu said calmly, “I think… I most likely will not.”

Lian Po slammed his wine cup onto the table. “If I say you will, then you will!”

Zichu, tipsy, said, “Li Mu can suffer defeat when Zheng’er becomes King of Qin. While I am King of Qin—he is not allowed!”

Li Mu: “…My lord, even when Zheng’er becomes king, I will still not be defeated. Please rest assured. Lord Lian Po—you’re drunk.”

Lian Po ran over to Zhu Xiang, snatched the wine jar he was holding protectively, and gulped it down, even fishing out the goji berries to eat. He wiped his mouth. “Not drunk!”

Bai Qi praised, “Lord Lian Po has impressive tolerance.”

Lian Fu was horrified and quickly tried to stop his father from acting foolishly in front of the King of Qin, but Lian Po kicked him aside. After kicking his son away, Lian Po hugged the wine jar, drumming on it and humming a tune as he danced wildly out of rhythm.

Lian Fu looked nervously at King Zichu, who was drunkenly shaking his head, tapping his wine cup with his chopsticks—looking even more intoxicated than his father.

Lian Po was singing a Zhao-state song, one Zichu knew well. He joined in, and urged Zhu Xiang to sing too.

Zhu Xiang said, “I’m not singing. I’ll play music for you.”

He wouldn’t lose face like this, but he was happy to let his friends lose theirs. So he egged on the drunken, muddle-headed King Zichu to order Cai Ze, Lin Zhi, and Li Mu to sing.

Zhu Xiang had someone bring him a huqin he hadn’t touched in a long time. After tuning it, he began playing wula wula sounds.

Cai Ze sighed and tapped his wine cup with his chopsticks, weakly obeying the king’s orders. Li Mu sang while gripping his sword hilt—his voice was powerful and the most on-key among them. As for Lin Zhi, he stripped off his upper garment and twisted his waist as he danced around Lian Po, creating a spectacle so outrageous it hurt the eyes.

Zhu Xiang felt that Lin Zhi had been born in the wrong era. He shouldn’t have come to Qin—he should have belonged to Wei-Jin. Oh, but the Wei-Jin scholars were simply imitating Zhuangzi; Lin Zhi was Zhuangzi’s true successor.

There was nothing wrong then. It was the Wei and Jin scholars imitating Lin Zhi—Lin Zhi wasn’t imitating them. As the orthodox heir of Lao–Zhuang thought, Lin Zhi dancing naked was perfectly normal, right? Bai Qi watched calmly. The veins on Xunzi’s hand were already bulging.

Zhu Xiang hurriedly pulled Xunzi aside and said, “Xunzi, don’t get angry. Lin Li’s teacher is Zhuangzi—nothing to do with us Confucians. He’s just unrestrained and improper; he’s dragging down the reputation of the whole Lao–Zhuang and Yellow Emperor schools!”

Xunzi cursed, “Who’s ‘us Confucians’ with you? You dare call yourself Confucian?”

Zhu Xiang: “…” Oh no, how did the fire land on him?

Whatever—keep playing the music and keep dancing. Anyway, although Xunzi looked furious, he hadn’t lifted his cane, so it didn’t count.

Back in Handan, whenever Xunzi was angry, he would raise that huge broad sword of his—the posture alone looked like he was ready to kill. Now he only had a cane—no longer enough to intimidate brats like Zhu Xiang and Lin Zhi.

Lian Po led the dance, Lin Zhi later stole the spotlight, Li Mu did the singing, Zhu Xiang played instruments, Zichu harmonized, Cai Ze half-heartedly added background noise. The whole group circled the bonfire, so noisy that Lian Fu wanted to dig a hole and crawl inside.

He finally understood why his father said he was unworthy.

He truly didn’t belong here. Why was he here at all?!

Had he known it would be like this, he should have pretended to be sick and stayed in the house!

No—if he had known in advance he would encounter something like this, he should never have followed his father to Xianyang in the first place!

Watching the Qin King and the others laughing and playing around, Lian Fu felt both terrified and deeply envious.

But no matter how envious, he didn’t dare join such a reckless gathering.

Even if the Qin King gave him the chance, he wouldn’t dare.

Maybe if he hadn’t looked down on Zhu Xiang back in Handan, if he had befriended him earlier, he might already be part of them now. But Lian Fu knew himself well. Even if he returned to the past, he still wouldn’t have befriended Zhu Xiang, a commoner.

Unlike Li Mu and Lin Zhi, who made friends based purely on talent and virtue, regardless of status, the Lian clan was an old noble family dating back to the founding of Zhao—tracing their lineage to the same roots as the Zhao royal family, all bearing the Ying surname. Pride in status ran in their bones.

Even Lian Po had once looked down on Lin Xiangru for being a low-born commoner.

Lian Fu glanced at his father—who was now fooling around with the younger men, looking nothing like the dignified old noble he had been in Zhao—and his feelings were complicated.

His father had changed, changed so much that he felt like a stranger.

—

A night of drunkenness.

The next day, the Qin King and the chancellor’s office all collectively skipped work.

Even Xunzi skipped work.

Xunzi wasn’t drunk—Zhu Xiang guessed he was angry.

Xunzi had been furious about last night’s chaos but didn’t want to interrupt Bai Qi, Lian Po, Zhu Xiang, and the others finally reuniting. So he’d had no choice but to tolerate a bunch of people who didn’t understand what “ritual propriety” was, dancing like demons, and fume about it all night.

Zhu Xiang, helpless and amused, cooked a pot of jujube-goji rice porridge for Xunzi to calm him down.

But upon hearing the ingredients, Lin Zhi complained that Zhu Xiang wasn’t soothing Xunzi—he was increasing his internal heat.

The four friends all had headaches from their hangovers. They sprawled out together in one room, playing cards and chatting—stealing half a day of leisure.

Zichu leaned against a pillow, dozing off;
Cai Ze asked for Zhu Xiang’s opinions on government affairs;
Lin Zhi caused trouble;
Li Mu roasted potatoes and pumpkins over the brazier.

Lin Zhi: “Qin King—Your Majesty—if you’re falling asleep, stop holding your cards. Are you playing or not?”

Zichu yawned. “Playing, playing… Is it my turn?”

Cai Ze: “Zhu Xiang, how about you come to Xianyang and I go to Wu Commandery in your place?”

Zhu Xiang: “Bomb! Uh—don’t even think about it. If you want someone to dump your duties on, Li Mu looks great.”

Li Mu: “I’m training the navy; I’m not going back to Xianyang. Following—bomb.”

Zichu: “Huh? Wait? Where do you all get so many bombs?”

Lin Zhi: “I’ll follow.”

Cai Ze: “Follow.”

Zichu: “No way, you all have such good hands?! Oh—turns out I have a bomb too. Then never mind, I’m luckier. Hahaha, I win again! Pay up!”

Zhu Xiang, Cai Ze, and Li Mu all sighed.

As expected of the Qin King, Zichu seemed to get a luck bonus while playing on Qin soil—he almost wiped them out every round.

Lin Zhi urged Zichu to go to sleep and stop draining their salaries.

Zichu, energized by winning, no longer even yawned.

Bai Qi and Lian Po came to check if the youngsters were too hungover to get up, but upon seeing how much fun they were having, they merely shook their heads in disdain and left.

Lian Po: “I bet Xun Qing really wants to beat them up. Too bad Xia Tong is now the Qin King—you can’t hit him.”

Bai Qi shook his head. “I think the one Xun Qing wants to beat most is you.”

Lian Po: “Nonsense!”

The two old men bickered back and forth—well, Lian Po bickered; Bai Qi remained mostly calm.

As for Lian Fu, he had simply vanished.

—

After Bai Qi arrived in Xianyang, Zhu Xiang began planning his departure, preparing to return south to Wu Commandery.

He had wanted to stay half a year longer to help Zichu with some tasks, but as soon as Zichu mentioned that Ying Zheng had taken young Cheng Jiao away, Zhu Xiang couldn’t sit still anymore.

Adjusting Qin’s agricultural system was important, yes—but there were plenty of competent ministers in court. Zhu Xiang didn’t need to do it personally; he only needed to write a proper plan, and the Qin King Zichu would arrange for others to implement it.

Zichu had a strong sense of responsibility—he would supervise Qin’s heartland himself and adjust agricultural structures.

But Ying Zheng teaching little Cheng Jiao?

Zhu Xiang worried that the child would learn nothing in the next half-year except getting endlessly crushed and scolded.

No one knew the limits of Ying Zheng’s patience better than Zhu Xiang.

To prevent Ying Zheng from traumatizing little Cheng Jiao—leading to brotherly strife in the future and pushing him toward the tragic fate he had in the original timeline—Zhu Xiang felt he had to hurry back.

After hearing this, Zichu was doubtful. “Is it really that serious?”

Zhu Xiang: “It’s exactly that serious!”

Zichu sighed. “If you want to leave, go. I also need to inspect the Qin heartland. Sigh… I wonder when we’ll ever have free time.”

Zhu Xiang: “You’ll never have free time in this lifetime.”

Zichu laughed. “True.”

Zichu had several carts loaded with palace-brewed fine wine and vinegar to send with Zhu Xiang as he left Xianyang.

Alcohol and vinegar consumed a lot of grain and required great skill to ferment. So although Zhu Xiang had brought new brewing methods, once the palace craftsmen learned them, their products were even more delicious than Zhu Xiang’s own.

Zhu Xiang praised the palace’s wine and vinegar endlessly, so Zichu had him take extra.

Zhu Xiang didn’t care much for gold, silver, or jewels—he always said such marked items could only sit in storage and couldn’t be converted, whereas edible gifts made him genuinely happy.

Zichu wanted to gift him some cattle and sheep too, but Zhu Xiang said they weren’t convenient to bring on a boat, so he dropped the idea.

Watching Zichu fussing nonstop and stuffing things into Zhu Xiang’s hands, Lian Fu once again wished he could sink into the ground.

He really couldn’t get used to this kind of intimate ruler-minister relationship—though he was jealous all the same.

Lian Po set off back to camp; Bai Qi traveled south with Zhu Xiang and Li Mu; Zichu and the others returned to their duties.

After a brief reunion, they parted ways once again.

When Bai Qi and Lian Po parted, they exchanged unusually solemn bows.

Seeing this, Zhu Xiang felt a little melancholy.

Xunzi also came to see Zhu Xiang off. Before leaving, he nagged endlessly, gave him a cartful of books as assignments, and warned him not to slack off.

Taking several boatloads of gifts, Zhu Xiang set off on his journey back to Wu Commandery.