HCT – Chapter 254 Zhao Gao Seeks a Shortcut

Zhao Gao was highly skilled at reading people’s thoughts. He had grown up in the palace and understood the schemes and treacheries within the court better than anyone.

Although he had never had the chance to meet the King of Qin before, he had long witnessed how palace servants were regularly purged. From this, he clearly understood the king’s suspicion and cruelty.

After becoming an attendant by Qin King Zheng’s side, Zhao Gao quickly adapted to his duties, earning Zheng’s satisfaction.

But Zhao Gao did not intend to remain a mere attendant.

There were two kinds of eunuchs in the Qin palace. Those serving in the harem were mostly castrated servants. Zhao Gao worried that if he fell out of favor, he would be sent there to serve the concubines.

He was, after all, a noble descendant with a family name. A few hundred years back, his ancestors shared the same clan as the Zhao royal line. Going back even further, he and the Qin king shared the same ancestry!

Zhao Gao believed he was no less than the ministers and nobles in court—his only misfortune was circumstance. The positions those lords occupied in Qin’s court were the ones he should have been standing in.

But now he was only a lowly palace attendant. Thinking about lofty ambitions was still far too early.

Zhao Gao knew that what he needed most was self-improvement—reading, practicing calligraphy, training in martial skills. Only after demonstrating talent before the king would Zheng give him opportunities.

But in terms of talent alone, it was difficult for him to surpass the ministers who had served the former kings.

Zhao Gao did not want to spend years waiting. He wanted to rise quickly—he wanted a shortcut.

And the best shortcut, naturally, was flattering the king, choosing the right side, and lending support at critical moments when the king hesitated. If things succeeded, the king would view him as a trusted confidant, and his path would be wide open.

And what could bind two people more quickly than sharing a hated enemy—and taking that enemy down together?

The King of Qin was young and ambitious. The ministers entrusted by the late king constantly restrained him and acted like his elders, showing him no respect. Qin King Zheng must surely harbor resentment.

A ruler, standing above all others, would never allow someone to stand above him.

For a mere minister to dare call himself the king’s elder—was that not courting death?

Zhao Gao did not know how Lord Changping got along with the king. Although he worked in the palace, the places Lord Changping frequented were far beyond what Zhao Gao could approach.

But he had seen how Chancellor Lin Zhi interacted with the king.

Lin Zhi’s respect toward Qin King Zheng only existed in front of others. In private, he was casual and utterly disrespectful—treating the king like a child.

Once, when Zhao Gao accompanied the king to a private estate, Lin Zhi arrived uninvited and immediately burrowed into the wine cellar.

When the furious king went to scold him, Lin Zhi loosened his robes, bared his chest, climbed a tree, and mocked the king for having short legs and a fat body.

The king lowered his head, saw his long, well-shaped legs…and fell silent from anger.

Zhao Gao thought that insulting the king in such a way would at least get Lin Zhi dismissed. But surprisingly, Chancellor Cai Ze, who supported Lin Zhi, brushed it off with, “Lord Lin was drunk and mistook Your Majesty for his childhood playmate.” And with this, Qin King Zheng was unable to punish Lin Zhi at all.

This alone showed how severely the king was suppressed by Lin Zhi and Cai Ze.

Watching this scene, Zhao Gao could already picture Lin Zhi’s miserable fate.

The more someone forced the king to endure, the more the king’s future wrath would burn them to ashes.

Zhao Gao felt excited. He believed he had found the shortcut to becoming the king’s confidant.

But he remained cautious. Even though he was certain Lin Zhi would eventually die, he would never expose himself too early, lest he be cast aside by the king, who was still biding his time.

He continued observing the interactions between the king, Lin Zhi, and Cai Ze. Whenever Lin Zhi humiliated the king, Zhao Gao would subtly voice dissatisfaction, allowing the king to gradually notice his loyalty.

Now, Zhao Gao looked at Lin Zhi with fiery intensity. In his eyes, Lin Zhi was nothing more than a stepping stone toward greater heights.

Those with great ambition were also great gamblers. Who would have imagined that a lowly palace servant would dare set his sights on the Chancellor of Qin?

It was precisely because they all looked down on him that he could play them in the palm of his hand. Zhao Gao felt exhilarated.

Lin Zhi indeed had not noticed Zhao Gao’s hostility.

Nor had Qin King Zheng.

To him, it was perfectly normal for his attendants to echo his anger when he was furious at Lin Zhi. He did not think in the direction Zhao Gao hoped.

When the royal hunt ended, Zhao Gao casually sighed and said that Chancellor Lin Zhi and Prime Minister Cai Ze had worn mocking expressions as they whispered to each other after witnessing the king defeat the strongman—surely ridiculing the strongman for being too weak.

Qin King Zheng immediately became alert. He dismissed everyone and pondered alone, uncertain whom he should address in a secret edict.

Zhao Gao watched the flickering flame reflected on the window and allowed a dark smile to rise on his face.

His appearance was naturally handsome—enough for a palace servant to be promoted to an attendant. Even when he wore an obsequious expression, it was difficult for others to dislike him.

But now, his expression was so twisted with malice that it ruined his fine appearance, making him look like a ghost wearing human skin.

Qin King Zheng noticed none of this.

He was entirely unaware that Zhao Gao was subtly deepening his resentment toward Lin Zhi and Cai Ze. At this moment, he was writing letters to his two elder ministers, reminding them of their promise not to complain to his uncle and aunt.

“They must be laughing at how proud I look right now—and thinking of how troublesome it’ll be for me once my uncle and aunt scold me,” Qin King Zheng grit his teeth. “Clearly, I haven’t given them enough work!”

Cai Ze pressed a hand to his forehead. “Say a few words less. A general stationed outside sending a letter to the Chancellor to submit on his behalf is proper etiquette.”

Lin Zhi replied, “Still not familiar enough, his skin isn’t thick enough.”

Qin King Zheng recalled how the old general had repeatedly asked him for fertile land and fine houses. Although he knew the old general was deliberately “dirtying” himself, he still nodded. “Indeed, General Wang’s skin isn’t quite thick yet.”

Cai Ze: “…”

He had long suspected that Zheng’er was being led astray by Lin Li.

Fortunately, Qin King Zheng wasn’t Qin Wang Zichu. After echoing Lin Zhi’s words, he immediately returned to the main topic—very reliable, no need for Cai Ze to prod him. If he were Qin Wang Zichu, he would already be holding a teacup, chatting with Lin Zhi about who-knows-what on some hillside.

Qin King Zheng pinched the space between his brows. “Repairing the Yellow River embankments is indeed important, and it can soothe the hearts of the people in the Six States. The Yellow River is crucial for Qin’s rule over the east as well. Perhaps we truly can only entrust this task to Uncle. I wonder when Zheng Guo will finish his canal—once he does, I can send him to assist Uncle.”

Lin Zhi said, “When the world is unified, Shu’s strategic importance will lessen. At that time, Your Majesty can send someone to replace Li Bing and have Li Bing supervise the Yellow River repairs. Zhu Xiang doesn’t trust others, but he definitely trusts Li Bing.”

Qin King Zheng’s brows smoothed. “Right, how could I have forgotten Minister Li!”

Thus Qin King Zheng sent Li Erlang with five hundred elite soldiers to escort Zhu Xiang as he surveyed and mapped the Yellow River. He also wrote thick stacks of letters to his uncle and aunt, informing them of recent events and urging them to write more often through the military report channel.

As for Wang Jian’s eldest son—another time. Qin King Zheng was in a hurry to send troops, and Wang Jian’s eldest was too far away.

Qin King Zheng didn’t tell Zhu Xiang about his scheme against the King of Yan. He merely said everything was fine, then focused on tattling about Lin Zhi.

“Uncle Lin not only drank again, he even mocked my youthful physique while drunk! If Uncle Cai hadn’t held me back, I would’ve climbed the tree and kicked him down to show him how long my legs really are!”

Qin King Zheng didn’t realize how childish his letter sounded. After all, he was a lively emperor who—even in his forties—would still take a few strong men out for night strolls and get mugged.

After sending the letter, Qin King Zheng clasped his hands behind his back and imagined the expression Uncle would have upon learning of Uncle Lin’s disgrace.

He was suspicious by nature. He didn’t trust Lin Zhi and Cai Ze to keep their promise not to make small reports. So just in case, he reported first. That way, if Uncle scolded him in the future, he’d have someone to drag down with him.

Unfortunately, Uncle Cai was clean and honest—there was nothing bad to tattle about. So Qin King Zheng simply assigned him more official duties.

Father had once taught him: Uncle Cai has deep scheming, so give him excessive workloads—make him too tired to overthink.

He remembered Father’s teachings well.

Li Erlang delivered Qin King Zheng’s letters just when the King of Yan and the Crown Prince’s assassin team set off with their plan to offer a city as bait.

Zhu Xiang had just caught a few fat Yellow River carp and prepared huòxiāng braised carp for Li Erlang.

“Freshly caught. You’re lucky today.” Zhu Xiang smiled. “You two already know each other, so I won’t introduce you.”

Li Erlang and Meng Yi saluted each other.

They had both served as palace attendants under Qin King Zheng and often went out to play together during downtime—they were already friends. Naturally, they didn’t need introductions.

“This thick? How long did he accumulate these? Zheng’er is still such a chatterbox.” Zhu Xiang looked at the thick stack of letters and couldn’t help pressing a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “It’s already late. Better to read them tomorrow. If I start now, we may be here till dawn.”

No capable ruler is not a chatterbox. Perhaps those who can process heaps of documents are born with chatterbox traits. Think of the verbose inscriptions Qin Shi Huang left on his eastern tours—Zheng’er was already holding back compared to that.

Zhu Xiang’s cooking had only grown more refined over the years. He felt that if he were back in modern times, maybe he could even open a viral internet-famous restaurant.

Carp doesn’t have much meat. The more Li Erlang ate, the hungrier he became, and he tried to steal from Meng Yi, who ate slowly.

The moment these two friends reunited, they already looked like they were about to fall out.

“If you want more fish, catch some yourself tomorrow,” Meng Yi said, protecting his plate.

“Hmph, stingy.” Li Erlang poured the braising sauce into his rice and shoveled it down.

In the wild, he couldn’t make noodles, so Zhu Xiang had been eating rice and millet.

Rice mixed with sauce was a timeless delight. Li Erlang even licked his bowl clean. His gluttonous appearance made Meng Yi look at him with deep disdain.

Meng Yi’s bowl was also clean to the last grain—but he had scraped it thoroughly with chopsticks and spoon, unlike Li Erlang’s licking.

Zhu Xiang watched the two youths argue even over trivial things like eating. His expression held both helplessness and fondness.

He began to miss Zheng’er.

Zheng’er was born different, rarely able to bond with peers. Even Meng Tian, who had followed him the longest, was still only a subordinate. A ruler having no friends was normal, but as an elder, Zhu Xiang couldn’t help worrying, hoping his nephew could have all the warmth in the world.

Sadly, before becoming King of Qin, Zheng’er had no close friends. After becoming king, it was even more impossible. Qin Shi Huang stood unmatched through the ages, destined to carry a hint of solitary pride.

He worried that after he and Xue Ji were gone, Zheng’er would be too lonely.

Zhu Xiang stretched his legs and massaged them.

Sigh… He was only just past forty, yet he was already thinking about his future burial. His mindset had aged too fast.

But once worry began, it was hard to ease.

He brooded for a long while, then wrote letters to Han Fei and Zhang Liang.

Han Fei, despite all he had gone through, remained somewhat innocent. Zhang Liang was the only peer Zheng’er truly regarded differently. If the two stayed at Zheng’er’s side, they could dispel some of his loneliness.

Southern Qin might not be able to spare Han Fei yet, but someone Zhang Liang’s age should already be entering Xianyang as an official. Why was he still hiding behind Han Fei?

Zhu Xiang wrote urging Han Fei to quickly send Zhang Liang north to Xianyang. If Zhang Liang refused, then tie him up and send him. That child was stubborn—he needed force.

After “persecuting” Zhang Liang, Zhu Xiang finally relaxed and prepared to sleep.

But before sleeping, he looked at Zheng’er’s letters again. Unable to suppress his longing for his nephew, he decided to read just one page.

Just one.

He lit the candle anew and opened Qin King Zheng’s letter.

That night, Zhu Xiang accidentally burned down his own tent.

“They’ve arrived?” Qin King Zheng’s expression was solemn.

“They’ve arrived,” Lin Zhi said, equally serious.

“What are you two doing?” Cai Ze rubbed his forehead, exasperated.

Qin King Zheng strapped on his armor. “Just in case.”

Lin Zhi helped him tie the straps. “Although Zheng’er is powerful, bumps and cuts are still bad. This is leather armor—light and stab-resistant.”

Qin King Zheng first put on the armor, then wrapped his royal robes over it, making him look much bulkier.

Lin Zhi praised, “Zheng’er looks just like a fierce general!”

Qin King Zheng said, “I am a fierce general.”

Cai Ze could only sigh. “You two… never mind. Wearing armor is fine.”

His original plan was to hide guards in the palace. Once the Yan assassin made a move, they would rush out and capture him. All they needed was for the Yan emissary to initiate the assassination attempt, and Qin could attack Yan and kill the king and crown prince. There was no need for Qin King Zheng to act personally.

But Qin King Zheng insisted on showing off his combat prowess, and Lin Zhi indulged him.

Cai Ze even considered using the cautionary tale of King Wu of Qin dying from lifting a giant cauldron, but all he achieved was getting Qin King Zheng to wear armor under his robes.

He silently blamed Lin Zhi for spoiling the king, though he himself wasn’t much better. If he truly opposed it, he would have called Xunzi out of retirement.

In state affairs, Zheng’er never listened to Zhu Xiang. But in personal matters, no matter how willful, Xunzi could restrain him somewhat.

Qin King Zheng said to Cai Ze and Lin Zhi, “To lure the assassin, do not bring your swords to court.”

Lin Zhi smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll cooperate. Zheng’er will surely shine today.”

Cai Ze sighed. “Fine.”

After all preparations, Qin King Zheng, just in case, went to the Imperial Medical Bureau and summoned the teenage medicine boy Xia Wuque.

Xia Wuque had great talent for throwing objects—he often knocked birds off walls to roast and eat.

Cai Ze was baffled. If preparing for emergencies, why not use agile guards? Why bring a young medicine boy?

Qin King Zheng pretended to be mysterious and said nothing. In his heart, he believed a bit of what Uncle had called “superstition”—that some things were destined.

Since Xia Wuque would one day save the great Ying Zheng from peril, he should also be able to protect him now.

But Cai Ze would never allow Zheng’er to be that reckless. He arranged hidden guards in the palace who would rush out to save the king once commanded. He and Lin Zhi, though not carrying long swords, hid small chain-hammers in their sleeves.

When it came to hitting birds, the two of them—thanks to Zhu Xiang’s bad influence—were quite skilled.

Finally, the day came when the Yan emissaries arrived.

Since Qin King Zheng, Lin Zhi, and Cai Ze had planned everything in secret, and the reason for their planning was completely absurd, even the king’s closest attendants were unaware of the preparations.

Only when the Yan emissaries entered the court and Cai Ze deployed hidden guards did people sense the tension.

Among them, Zhao Gao was the most nervous.

He thought Cai Ze and Lin Zhi had discovered the king’s suspicion toward them and were about to force a coup.

Though Zhao Gao was now Qin King Zheng’s attendant, his rank was not yet high enough to accompany him to court. If the king faced danger, the Queen Dowagers could mobilize palace guards with their seals. So Zhao Gao lurked near the court, ready to run to the two Dowagers at the first sound of trouble.

He clenched his fists—both excited and terrified.

This crisis… was also his great opportunity!

“Lord Zhu Xiang, why the rush to return to the capital?” Meng Yi asked, confused. “Did something happen in Xianyang?”

After burning his tent, Zhu Xiang left four hundred men in a nearby town and rode with one hundred men—along with Li Erlang and Meng Yi—back toward Xianyang at full speed.

During a brief rest, Zhu Xiang took a drink from his water pouch and said gravely, “Nothing urgent. I’m simply impatient.”

Meng Yi was bewildered.

Li Erlang said, “Uncle has his reasons. Just follow his lead.”

Meng Yi shot him a look. Public is public, private is private—you should address Lord Zhu Xiang with more respect. Always calling him “Uncle”—are you flaunting how close you are? As if the rest of us aren’t his nephews!

Zhu Xiang took a deep breath.

He knew he didn’t need to rush.

Zhao Gao’s rise wouldn’t begin until after Zheng’er’s death.

Before that, Zhao Gao was obedient and the one Zheng’er trusted the most.

But he was simply anxious.

Right now, his mood was like seeing a huge, filthy cockroach near his child—one he must immediately crush without delay.

“That he actually made Zheng’er mention him in the letter…” Zhu Xiang grit his teeth. “It’s only been this long?”

As expected of you, Zhao Gao!