HCT – Chapter 224 Ice-Chilled Sweet Douhua

Little Chengjiao proudly showed off to a stranger the knowledge he had learned from his uncle.

Zhang Liang was confused at first, but after thinking it over, he understood Zhu Xiang’s intention and couldn’t help sighing—no wonder the King of Qin entrusted the young prince to Lord Zhu Xiang’s care.

Most likely, while the Crown Prince was away from Xianyang for long periods, people had been casually “placing bets” on young Prince Chengjiao.

After eating their fill, Ying Zheng ordered someone to notify his uncle and aunt, as well as Han Fei, that Zhang Liang had arrived. He also ordered a small courtyard to be prepared for Zhang Liang.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Liang quickly said, “How could I make Teacher come find me? I should go visit Teacher myself.”

Ying Zheng replied, “My uncle recently caught a minor illness. I forbade him from going out, so he’s been staying home every day thinking up new dishes to cook. Han Fei, Li Si, and Fu Qiu always come freeloading for food and drink. If you don’t notify him beforehand, you’ll probably run into him at dinner anyway. Might as well tell him first.”

A thought bubble of confusion appeared above Zhang Liang’s young head. “Freeloading for food and drink?”

Ying Zheng swung onto his horse. “Yes, freeloading for food and drink. Meng Tian, carry Chengjiao.”

Little Chengjiao bounced energetically in front of Ying Zheng’s horse. “No! I want Big Brother to take me!”

“No.” Ying Zheng refused coldly and without mercy.

Horses were still more convenient on rural paths. Although a wagon followed nearby carrying spare clothes, pots and pans, and food and water, Ying Zheng preferred riding his own horse when inspecting the area.

Initially, Chengjiao sat in front of Ying Zheng, but the child wouldn’t sit still while riding. Ying Zheng felt it made him lose face—how could the Crown Prince of Qin appear so undignified?

Chengjiao hopped and pouted stubbornly, “Big Brother take me! I don’t want Meng Tian!”

Ying Zheng raised a brow. “Meng Tian.”

Meng Tian sighed. “Your servant is here.”

He scooped up little Chengjiao and tickled him under the arms. “Ride with me.”

Chengjiao was “kidnapped” onto Meng Tian’s horse, struggling all the way while laughing uncontrollably. “Put me down!”

“Accept your fate,” Meng Tian said. “The Crown Prince has ordered it.”

Chengjiao snorted. “Fine! This young lord will grant you the honor of carrying me!”

Zhang Liang mounted his horse and curiously observed Prince Chengjiao.

He had originally thought the prince was just an ordinary child—but that last sentence did carry a hint of Qin-royal authority.

Ying Zheng’s mouth twitched. He said weakly, “Stop repeating lines from the stories Uncle told you.”

“Why?” Chengjiao asked.

“Just don’t repeat them.”

“But why?”

“There is no why.”

“But why!” Chengjiao persisted.

Meng Tian couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Ying Zheng shot him a glare, and Meng Tian immediately forced his mouth into a straight line.

Inwardly, Ying Zheng cursed: Laugh all you want—one day I’ll send you to guard the Great Wall.

Chengjiao finally quieted down, and Ying Zheng let out a breath of relief.

Zhang Liang pondered for a long moment before asking, puzzled, “Why can’t he say it? What’s wrong with that phrase?”

Ying Zheng: “…”

Chengjiao immediately resumed chanting: “Yes! Why?”

“Be quiet!” Ying Zheng barked.

How could he explain that every time Chengjiao imitated a line from one of Uncle’s stories, he instantly pictured the scene and characters from those tales—making him feel unbearably awkward?

Such matters could only be complained about privately to his uncle and aunt; he would never say them out loud in public.

Unfortunately, his younger brother was spoiled rotten by their uncle and aunt. A prohibition without a reason? He would definitely pester for one endlessly.

After much effort, Ying Zheng finally distracted Chengjiao with another topic.

Zhang Liang saw the faint exhaustion on Ying Zheng’s face and couldn’t help thinking of his own older brother.

When he misbehaved, his elder brother often wore that exact same expression.

So even the Crown Prince of Qin was like any older brother in a normal household—tired from looking after his little sibling.

“Zhang Liang, on this journey, have you noticed the difference between Chu and Qin?” Ying Zheng asked once Chengjiao finally fell silent.

He was about to show off.

Ying Zheng was extremely confident in the governance of Wu Commandery. Seeing Chu refugees pouring into Southern Qin, he knew the land under his management was flourishing far more than Chu’s.

But there was a difference between quietly feeling proud and hearing someone else praise it.

Over the past years, Zhang Liang had experienced much—going from an untouchable noble son in lawless Xinzheng to someone who had to read others’ expressions to survive. His natural talent for observation was now fully developed; he immediately sensed the Crown Prince’s expectation of praise.

If he spoke from impulse, he would have said “nothing special,” just like he used to.

But when the words reached his lips, Zhang Liang held them back.

After a long pause, wearing a blank expression, he described the changes he had seen along the journey through Han, Chu, Southern Chu, and Southern Qin, along with the sights that left him confused or helpless.

Ying Zheng had only meant to show off a little—he hadn’t expected Zhang Liang to answer so seriously.

He gradually put away his pride and began analyzing Zhang Liang’s observations, discussing points with him here and there.

Meng Tian and little Chengjiao listened intently at first.

Soon, Meng Tian was still listening intently… while Chengjiao fell asleep in his arms.

Meng Tian glanced down at the drowsy young prince and sighed inwardly.

Prince Chengjiao was completely different from the Crown Prince when he was young. Perhaps the Crown Prince had simply matured too early.

While Ying Zheng and Zhang Liang were discussing matters of farmland, taxation, and labor obligations, the house-bound Zhu Xiang received the news that Zhang Liang had arrived.

Zhu Xiang wasn’t seriously ill—he had only gotten caught in the rain and felt groggy for a few days, now left with a slight cough.

It was autumn harvest season. He felt a minor sickness shouldn’t require rest at all. Who knew Ying Zheng would send soldiers to keep him confined at the estate outside Guangling! Completely unfilial!

What angered Zhu Xiang even more was that Xue Ji actually said Ying Zheng had done the right thing!

Did this family still have a place for him anymore?!

Fuming, Zhu Xiang wrote a letter to Zichu: Look what kind of son you raised! You sent soldiers to surround Cai Ze and Lin Zhi’s homes, and now your son dares to send soldiers to lock me up!

After venting his impotent rage, Zhu Xiang reluctantly accepted his confinement and devoted himself to fussing over the garden and inventing new dishes every day.

When the news of Zhang Liang’s arrival reached him, Zhu Xiang happened to be grinding soybeans for douhua.

The soybeans gifted by Wei Wuji had been harvested. The new crop had higher protein and oil content than the older local beans, making them far better for pressing oil, making tofu, or douhua.

In recent days, the late-autumn heat had been fierce. Zhu Xiang wanted to make ice-chilled douhua for Ying Zheng and Chengjiao after their day of toil outside.

Add crushed ice, brown sugar, candied fruits, and chopped melon seeds—an irresistible sweet dessert.

Both nephews loved sweets—they would be thrilled.

As he worked on creating ice using saltpeter, Zhu Xiang muttered under his breath about Xue Ji.

He had thought Xue Ji would keep him company in his boredom. Unexpectedly, once she saw he was well enough, she impatiently went back to her weaving work.

Unforgivable! She won’t get the first bowl of ice-chilled douhua!

Despite being over thirty, Zhu Xiang’s grumbling made him look like a child.

“Why is Zhang Liang here?” Zhu Xiang finished the prep work and handed the rest to the cooks. “Go call Han Fei… and Li Si too.”

Han Fei and Li Si were both in Wucheng. Wucheng sent boats across the river every few days, so news traveled well. If notified now, they could arrive in Guangling by tomorrow.

Zhu Xiang was worried Han Fei might lose his composure whenever Han was involved. With Li Si around, he could help rein him in—more effectively than Zhu Xiang could, even as an elder.

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help irrationally resenting Zhang Liang a little.

In truth, with the distance between Wu Commandery and Han, by the time news of Xinzheng being besieged reached them, Lord Lian had probably already dragged the Han king to Xianyang. The outcome would be settled, leaving Han Fei no choice but to accept reality.

But now that they learned early that Han’s capital was besieged, who knew how much agony Han Fei would suffer?

Of course, Zhu Xiang knew this was selfish and unreasonable.

How could he blame a child who was suffering just as much?

People are emotional and biased. He wasn’t a sage—he sometimes had unworthy thoughts he couldn’t completely control.

Sighing, Zhu Xiang went to the kitchen to prepare a grand welcome-meal for little Zhang Liang.

He remembered Zhang Liang preferred light flavors—no wonder he would live long in the future.

Zheng’er, you should learn from him!

He decided on a steamed perch as the main dish.

Now that they were in the south, they had to eat fish from the Yangtze River. After deciding on the steamed perch, he added strong dishes like chive-flower beef and cumin-roasted lamb leg, and a vegetable platter of seasonal greens dressed in sesame oil and homemade oyster sauce.

Li Mu had brought back many shellfish, probably oysters, saying they were caught during their voyages.

Zhu Xiang had no idea how Li Mu managed to train troops in Nanyue while returning each time with a bounty of seafood—but he wasn’t complaining.

After days of eating garlic-vermicelli oysters and scallops, they still had plenty of shells left.

Zhu Xiang experimented and simmered the remaining oyster meat into oyster sauce, feeding the leftover bits to the geese.

Li Mu had caught a few geese in Nanyue and given them to him.

He was tired of roast duck and wanted to try roast goose.

It was a pity that Zhang Liang came at the wrong time. Had he arrived a few days earlier, he could have tasted fresh oysters.

Now Li Mu had once again gone south to drill the troops. Who knew what delicacies he would bring back this time?

A moment ago Zhu Xiang was still complaining that Zhang Liang had come too early; now he regretted that Zhang Liang had come too late. Truly contradictory.

After finishing his inspection for the day, young Ying Zheng challenged Zhang Liang to a race—who could ride faster.

Zhang Liang did not want to compete at all. Anyone could guess the outcome. How could his horsemanship compare to the seventeen-year-old Crown Prince?

But a few taunting lines—“No way, right?” “Scared?” “There’s no wager anyway”—successfully provoked the still-hot-tempered Zhang Liang.

Not only did Zhang Liang agree to the race, he even proposed that the loser had to copy text as punishment.

And then Ying Zheng dashed off like a streak of lightning. Zhang Liang lost so badly he didn’t even get to see the horse’s tail.

Only after the Crown Prince rode far ahead did Meng Tian finally say, speechless, “Your horse isn’t as good as His Highness’s, you’re unfamiliar with the roads, and the Crown Prince is someone who has ridden into battle. What did you think you were competing with?”

Zhang Liang replied with an air of old-man solemnity, “You should ask your Crown Prince that. He’s older, he’s actually ridden on battlefields, his horse is better, and he knows the roads. Yet he insisted on challenging me.”

Meng Tian: “…”

Little Chengjiao had woken up by now and immediately asked, “Your name is Zhang Liang, right?”

Zhang Liang replied, “Yes, my lord.”

Chengjiao grinned, revealing a hollow black gap in his teeth. “You must repeat those words to Big Brother!”

Zhang Liang asked curiously, “Why?”

Chengjiao said proudly, “Uncle says it’s the funniest thing ever to see Big Brother fly into a rage!”

Zhang Liang: “…”

These two brothers really were true brothers.

Zhang Liang indeed repeated those words to young Ying Zheng.

Ying Zheng snorted, “You’re just making excuses for losing.”

Zhang Liang said calmly, “Whatever you say. But, Your Highness, do you dare publicize our race? Make sure you mention that you challenged me first.”

Ying Zheng: “…”

A triumphant smile appeared on Zhang Liang’s face.

Ying Zheng let out a cold hum. “Why wouldn’t I dare? You lost anyway.”

When Zhu Xiang came out to greet the guests, he immediately heard Ying Zheng cold-snorting.

He often worried—if Ying Zheng kept snorting like this every day, would he eventually snort himself into chronic rhinitis?

Now even Chengjiao had learned the snort. It was truly easy to learn bad habits and hard to learn good ones.

“What did you lose?” Zhu Xiang asked curiously.

Ying Zheng said, “Nothing.”

Zhang Liang said, “The Crown Prince challenged me to a horse race. I lost. His Highness is indeed formidable.”

Zhu Xiang: “…”

He silently looked at Ying Zheng.

Ying Zheng stared right back, full of righteous confidence.

What are you looking at! What’s the problem!

Zhu Xiang quietly withdrew his gaze. Better not say anything lest Ying Zheng get embarrassed and angry.

Sometimes Zheng’er was really childish… Had he made mistakes in raising him?

After finishing his silent scolding of Zichu, Zhu Xiang began silently reflecting on himself.

If there were no outsiders, he would definitely start teasing Ying Zheng. But since others were present, he had to protect Ying Zheng’s dignity.

He changed the subject. “It’s been a while. Rest for now—everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Since Zhang Liang had come all the way to Southern Qin, there clearly wasn’t anything urgent.

Zhang Liang noticed that Zhu Xiang was protecting the Crown Prince’s face. That made him think of his own family back in Xinzheng, and his expression dulled.

After bowing, he briefly explained that he planned to seek out his teacher Han Fei and would not return to Xinzheng. Zhu Xiang then led him to the prepared courtyard to settle in.

After washing up simply, Zhang Liang came out wearing a silk robe that was slightly too large.

Puzzled, he asked, “Lord Zhu Xiang, why is there clothing in my size? Did you know in advance I was coming?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Those were Zheng’er’s old clothes.”

Zhang Liang: “…”

Why were the Crown Prince’s old clothes even kept?!

Zhu Xiang, on the other hand, was baffled at Zhang Liang’s shock.

Ying Zheng was growing quickly—he barely wore each set of clothes before they became too small. The materials were of excellent quality—how could they be thrown away?

Besides, children were supposed to wear hand-me-downs. Zhu Xiang planned to give Ying Zheng’s old clothes to Chengjiao or the sons of friends.

But then Zichu dumped Chengjiao onto him, so Ying Zheng’s old clothes became even more useful.

Ying Zheng himself didn’t care. As emperor, he would one day give away clothes he had personally worn to favored ministers. What Zhu Xiang was doing was similar to what he had done in his dream life.

Zhang Liang, however, struggled to accept Zhu Xiang’s frugality.

Silk garments wrinkled easily after washing, so aristocrats often discarded them after wearing them once or twice. As for kings—once worn, the clothes almost never appeared a second time. Wearing washed clothing was considered extremely frugal.

That was why kings often gifted their worn garments to others or cut them up for other uses.

Yet Lord Zhu Xiang actually saved the Crown Prince’s old clothes? And planned to give them to Prince Chengjiao?

Zhu Xiang realized that his commoner mindset might be out of step with the nobles.

Seeing Zhang Liang’s uneasy expression, he immediately said, “Are you not accustomed to wearing old clothes? Wait here—I’ll have someone buy you a new set. Guangling City has ready-to-wear shops.”

He added apologetically, “Zheng’er only wore this outer robe once. I saw you didn’t bring enough clothes, so I neglected propriety.”

Zhang Liang quickly said, “No, it’s fine. According to etiquette, receiving an elder’s old clothing is a sign of their regard.”

And indeed, etiquette supported that. When close friends visited one’s home, offering them one’s fine but used garments was a sign of intimacy.

Since Zhang Liang would soon become Han Fei’s disciple—and Zhu Xiang was essentially Han Fei’s senior—Zhang Liang was also Zhu Xiang’s junior.

Thus, letting Zhang Liang temporarily stay at his home and giving him the children’s old clothes was Zhu Xiang treating him like family.

Prince Chengjiao wore clothes altered from Ying Zheng’s old ones. And Ying Zheng had worn garments altered from Zhu Xiang’s old ones.

Back when Zhu Xiang lived at Lin Xiangru’s home, Lin Xiangru often gave him Lin Zhi’s used clothing.

For a normal scholar’s family, all this was perfectly sensible. But Ying Zheng was the Crown Prince—his frugality surprised Zhang Liang, that was all.

But once the surprise faded, warmth surged in Zhang Liang’s heart.

Lord Zhu Xiang naturally gave him the Crown Prince’s old clothes—he truly saw Zhang Liang as family.

This was Zhang Liang’s first time leaving home alone. His first departure took him across the entire Central Plains, farther than he had ever imagined.

It was impossible for him not to feel anxious. He was, after all, still a child.

With Zhu Xiang treating him this way, the knot in his heart loosened a little. The future felt less frightening.

When Zhu Xiang noticed Zhang Liang’s reddening eyes, he panicked at first. But then he realized Zhang Liang was moved.

Moved… Zhu Xiang pondered for a while before finally understanding what Zhang Liang was feeling.

Only someone treated like family would be given the children’s old clothes. Zhang Liang must have sensed his closeness.

And it was true.

If it were someone else, Zhu Xiang wouldn’t have bothered with the clothing issue—he would simply have someone escort the guest to a garment shop.

But Zhang Liang was going to be Han Fei’s student, and Han Fei didn’t raise children. So Zhu Xiang had already decided to treat Zhang Liang like his own nephew.

“Don’t worry. The King of Han and your family will be safe,” Zhu Xiang said. After a moment, he added, “As long as Xinzheng doesn’t rebel, the king will be fine.”

Zhang Liang instantly swallowed back all his emotion.

He wanted to cover his ears—he didn’t want this kind of comfort!

Ying Zheng swaggered in, asking whether Zhang Liang had finished changing. He was hungry and wanted dinner. Just in time, he heard Zhu Xiang comforting Zhang Liang.

Though his voice had already changed, Ying Zheng deliberately laughed in a quacking, duck-like tone.

Zhu Xiang shot him a helpless glance.

Zhang Liang didn’t wrong you, did he? You’ve been bullying him nonstop—why target him so much?!

He hasn’t even attempted to assassinate you yet!

Was this some kind of natural incompatibility?

“You’re too short,” Ying Zheng said, lifting his chin to look down at Zhang Liang, who was five or six years younger. “Do you not get enough to eat in Han?”

Zhang Liang: “…” I am the son of Han’s former Chancellor. You say I don’t get enough to eat?!

“All right, let’s go eat,” Zhu Xiang said, pulling Ying Zheng with one hand and Zhang Liang with the other. “Chengjiao can hardly wait for the iced sweet tofu pudding.”

Ying Zheng: “What? We’re having iced tofu pudding today? Why didn’t you say so earlier?!”

He dashed off so fast he almost dragged Zhu Xiang down.

Zhang Liang: “???” It’s just food—was that necessary?!

Then Zhang Liang tasted the brown-sugar iced tofu pudding.

In the warm southern lands that never froze even in winter, during the hottest late-autumn days, he held a bowl of white, jade-like tofu topped with crushed ice, colorful dried fruits, and tiny glutinous rice balls.

It was so beautiful he couldn’t bear to take the first bite.

Lord Zhu Xiang had made this icy dessert himself? Zhang Liang had never seen such lovely food.

“What is this?” he asked. “Is it made from flour?”

Since Qin had begun promoting millstones nationwide, flour made its way into many noble households.

The smooth white paste reminded him of dough.

But when his spoon touched it, the tofu flower melted instantly—nothing like dough.

He guessed again, “Is it egg white mixed with flour?”

Ying Zheng, who had already inhaled more than half his bowl, scowled.

Seeing Zhang Liang not eating and just babbling nonstop, letting the ice melt away, he snapped, “Just eat it already. Why do you talk so much? It’s made from soybeans.”

“Huh? Impossible!” Zhang Liang was shocked.

Soybeans were the food of the poor. He had once been curious and tried the servants’ soybean porridge—it was awful even when fully cooked.

And soybeans could become this beautiful?

Little Chengjiao wasn’t as fast an eater as Ying Zheng, but his bowl was smaller. He finished in a few bites.

Seeing Zhang Liang still dazing with a full bowl, Chengjiao stuck his head over. “Zhang Liang, you’re not eating? If not, give it to me.”

Ying Zheng scolded while wolfing down another bite, “No! You’re still small. You can’t eat too much ice!”

Chengjiao pointed at Zhang Liang. “But he isn’t eating! Such waste! Uncle says we mustn’t waste!”

Zhang Liang instantly scooped tofu pudding into his mouth. “I’m eating—mm! Delicious!”

The tofu melted instantly, the bean aroma softened by sweet brown sugar.

Tiny ice crystals, dried fruits, and melon seeds added bursts of texture. The colorful glutinous balls were the perfect finishing touch—sweet, chewy, and immensely satisfying.

Zhang Liang suddenly remembered the few months he had spent mooching meals at Xianyang.

Lord Zhu Xiang’s dishes and desserts were truly immortal fare—absolute proof he was a banished celestial!

Zhang Liang buried his face in the bowl.

Little Chengjiao’s face fell; tears welled in his eyes.

He threw himself into Zhu Xiang’s arms. “Uncle! They all get to eat but not me! Waaah!”

Zhu Xiang almost got winded from the impact of Chengjiao’s head.

What was with his two nephews? Why did they both like slamming their heads into him?!

Were they little calves?!

Zhu Xiang glared at Ying Zheng.

Ying Zheng pretended not to notice. He simply held out his empty bowl. “Another, Uncle. Chengjiao, you can’t have any!”

Chengjiao wailed, “Waaaah! Big Brother is bullying me!”

Meng Tian had come over for food too.

He knew Zhu Xiang would personally prepare a welcome feast for Han Fei’s disciple.

Hearing Chengjiao cry about not getting iced tofu pudding, Meng Tian scooted his stool over beside Zhang Liang.

Zhang Liang asked, puzzled, “What are you doing?”

Meng Tian replied, “Blocking him. In case Prince Chengjiao decides to resent me in the future.”

Zhang Liang: “???” What is wrong with you?!