HCT – Chapter 26 Wooden Tub of Cool River Water

“O Heaven above, why destroy my good men! If ransom is possible, may I give my life a hundredfold!”

This line is from The Book of Songs (Shijing), Qin Wind: Yellow Bird, and it describes the deep mourning of the Qin people for the three noble sons of the Ziche family—Yanxi, Zhongxing, and Zhenhu—who were buried alive to accompany King Mu of Qin in death.

During the time of King Mu, the Qin state was still viewed as a barbaric land akin to the Western Rong by the Central Plains states. But under his rule, Qin began to gain a favorable reputation and grew strong enough to push east through Hangu Pass and onto the stage of national hegemony.

While King Mu lived, his reputation was stellar. Scholars from other states praised his benevolence. He was supposed to lay the foundation for Qin’s rise to power. Yet just before his death, he ordered the burial of the three noble sons with him, an act that led all the talented scholars of the realm to exclude Qin from their preferred destinations for official service.

Whatever King Mu or his successors’ reasons for enforcing the ritual burial, the result was clear: Qin declined afterward. Its territory shrank dramatically, and by the early Warring States period, it had become a small and insignificant state.

It wasn’t until King Xian of Qin abolished the practice of human burial and stabilized internal strife that the state began to grow strong again. Even so, scholars still considered entering Qin as a last resort. Among Confucians, it even became an unwritten rule that “Confucians do not enter Qin.” Xunzi was the first great Confucian scholar to visit Qin, but even he had no intention of taking office—he merely traveled through.

Qin’s unique “guest minister” (keqing) system, in which foreign talents were granted significant favor, and its overly extensive system of “imperial in-laws” (waixi), were both lingering aftereffects of the Three Nobles’ burial.

Qin had a sparse cultural base and few native talents, relying heavily on foreign expertise. But after the incident, when these foreign talents refused to come, Qin had no choice but to offer lavish rewards or to marry noble women from other states—bringing in foreign talents as in-laws through marriage.

Even if one day the Qin king went mad and revived the practice of burying ministers, he wouldn’t pick imperial in-laws—they were relatively safe and could still take office in Qin without fear.

With no domestic talent pool and rejected by outside scholars, Qin had to depend on in-laws—but in-laws often bred political unrest. That King Xian dared to abolish a sacred ancestral tradition in such an era of reverence for the past speaks volumes about the damage this custom had done to Qin.

It was precisely because King Xian set the precedent for abolishing outdated ancestral customs that Shang Yang’s reforms could later be successfully implemented and sustained.

Even though the ancestral custom was abolished, Yellow Bird from Qin Wind remained a painful scar in the hearts of later Qin kings. No one felt this pain more keenly than the Qin kings themselves (with the exception of the Second Emperor). It was to the point that just hearing Yellow Bird made their faces fall.

When Zhu Xiang recited the poem to explain his plan, the Qin king understood—too well. He could even picture Zhao following Qin’s tragic footsteps, becoming the kind of state scholars avoided mentioning without a grimace.

Of course, this negative image could be erased simply by changing the Zhao king—far easier than Qin, which had to carry the stigma for centuries. But the current Zhao king was young and not likely to be replaced anytime soon. That gave Qin plenty of time to act.

And if someone within Zhao took this chance to seize the throne and oust the king early—wouldn’t that be even better? The internal strife in Zhao would be sure to intensify.

The Qin king was seriously considering letting Zhu Xiang carry out his plan.

After hearing Zhu Xiang’s reasoning, the king also realized that not just the court—even he himself might not yet be ready to unify the world.

Unification wasn’t just about seizing land. Once taken, that land had to be governed, and the people of other states had to be turned into Qin’s own.

If he hadn’t gone to Yewang to conscript troops, he might have rejected Zhu Xiang’s view out of hand. But he had gone—and there, he’d seen firsthand that the people of newly conquered lands could become Qin people with sufficient rewards. That changed his outlook.

If Qin wasn’t yet ready to absorb Zhao, then letting itself recover while quietly digging a pit for Zhao to fall into was indeed the best approach.

And if Zhao killed Zhu Xiang, then as Zhu Xiang was the Qin prince Zichu’s in-law, Qin could even use the excuse of revenge to launch an attack. True, the Qin king rarely needed an excuse to fight—but what ruler didn’t want to appear righteous?

The Qin king, too, wanted to experience what it felt like to launch a war “with just cause,” standing on moral high ground and pointing fingers at others.

Although Bai Qi wasn’t as perceptive as Fan Ju in reading the Qin king’s mind, the king was so obviously deep in thought that even Bai Qi could guess his inner workings.

He couldn’t plead on Zhu Xiang’s behalf in front of him, so he changed the subject to break the king’s train of thought. “Zhu Xiang,” he said, “you’ve made great contributions—why would the Zhao king want to kill you?”

The Qin king snapped out of it and echoed, “Exactly. Why are you so sure the Zhao king would kill you? He might even put you in a high position.”

Zhu Xiang’s face lit up with a confident smile. But it was a confidence rooted in the certainty of death—which stirred a pang of emotion in the Qin king, who had only moments ago been weighing how to use his death for political gain.

“I helped the commoners increase their crop yields,” Zhu Xiang explained, “taught them how to sell their surplus food and handicrafts without being cheated by powerful merchants. I’ve already offended plenty of nobles doing that…”

Before he could finish, Bai Qi cut in. “How could helping commoners increase their yields offend the nobles? Wouldn’t they be happy collecting more taxes?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “The nobles already use the most advanced farming techniques available—their yields can’t increase much more. But I helped the commoners—whose lands lacked water and fertilizer, who were still using primitive slash-and-burn farming—raise their yields.

I heard Lord Wu’an (Bai Qi) didn’t come from a powerful noble family. Then you must understand—when someone of lower birth achieves success, it hurts more than if the noble themselves failed.”

When the historian Sima Qian wrote Records of the Grand Historian, he always noted the family background and clan names of highborn figures, male or female.

For instance, Lian Po was of the Ying clan, surname Lian. But figures like Bai Qi and Lin Xiangru, who had a clan name but no surname, and whose family backgrounds were never mentioned, were from the lower rungs of the scholar class. Some may even have been guomin—citizen-farmers living in cities, farming public land under the well-field system and serving in the military.

Their status was slightly higher than that of “mang” (also called “wild folk”) like Zhu Xiang—people who lived on the outskirts, farming private plots on the fringes of well-fields. After land reforms, such people became free farmers, but their status in the scholar hierarchy was still quite low.

Bai Qi had climbed all the way to a level where even members of the Qin royal clan and imperial in-laws had to look up to him, solely on military merit. It’s easy to imagine how much jealousy and slander he must have endured on the way up.

Bai Qi let out a gentle sigh and said, “I know.”

Zhu Xiang continued, “To come to Changping, I made a name for myself in Handan. In the process of gaining fame, I also offended many nobles and their retainers.”

He smiled again and said, “Though they were the ones who came to debate me, and they lost with grace, they originally wanted to step on me to gain fame. But I stepped on them instead. How could I not earn their hatred?

“I’m just a commoner. With such great achievements, how can the King of Zhao reward me? Make me a Grand Minister? Would the aristocrats of Zhao willingly bow to a commoner like me?

“So I’m very certain—if I ever give them a single excuse to attack me, they will make sure I die.”

The King of Qin and Bai Qi exchanged a glance. Could it be that Zhu Xiang had already deduced the Zhao army’s plan to surrender and kill the generals was because of him?

Zhu Xiang paused for a long time, then said somewhat awkwardly, “The point they’ll use to attack me is, uh, cough, well, Your Majesty may not know—my nephew is a hostage in Qin. He’s your great-grandson.”

The King of Qin and Bai Qi: “……” Are we supposed to act shocked now?

Fortunately, Zhu Xiang quickly added, “No, when I left, a wealthy Qin merchant came to protect Zheng’er for me. He said he was sent by Prince Zichu. Your Majesty should know that my nephew Zheng’er is your great-grandson, right?”

Do I know or not? The King of Qin thought for a moment and said decisively, “No. Wasn’t Zichu’s child hiding with his birth mother under Lu Buwei’s protection? So, his mother is your sister?”

“She’s my elder sister, but we don’t get along. She abandoned me when I was gravely ill.” Seeing the King of Qin’s expression, Zhu Xiang guessed that the king probably knew the truth.

No wonder the King of Qin had been treating him so favorably. He might see Zhu Xiang as half a Qin native.

Although he didn’t understand why the King would pretend not to know when he clearly did, Zhu Xiang didn’t expose him and went along, saying, “This identity alone is enough for the King of Zhao to want me dead. If the battle of Changping fails, they’ll probably blame it all on me—call me a Qin spy or something.”

He had already attracted too much jealousy and hatred from the Zhao nobility and their retainers. Now, with the deadly accusation of being the “commoner uncle of a Qin hostage,” once he returned to Handan, the other nobles would unite against him. And with the King of Zhao being easily swayed by his favorites, not even Lord Pingyuan or Lord Pingyang could save him.

Certainly not Lord Lin (Lin Xiangru) or General Lian (Lian Po).

Thinking of Lin Xiangru and Lian Po, waves of guilt and pain surged in Zhu Xiang’s heart.

Thankfully, if he could bring the surrendered Zhao soldiers back alive, in the thinking of this era, even if he died, they might feel sad, but they would also feel comforted that he had sacrificed himself for justice.

But what about Xue and Zheng’er…

Zhu Xiang said solemnly, “After I die, may I ask the King of Qin to bring Zheng’er and Xue back as soon as possible? Please don’t let Xue leave Zheng’er’s side.”

He kowtowed once more.

The King of Qin looked at Zhu Xiang. After a long while, he sighed softly. “Since you are related to the Qin royal family, why not ask me to take you away?”

Zhu Xiang lay prostrate and said, “I want to rescue the surrendered Zhao soldiers. And if I leave, Zheng’er and Xue will definitely be watched by the Zhaos. If I don’t return to Handan, they’ll be in danger.”

The King of Qin asked, “Even if I release the surrendered Zhao soldiers, would you still return to Handan to exchange for them?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Yes.”

The King of Qin said, “With Lin Xiangru and Lian Po, it would be easy to exchange others for your wife and rescue her. Only Zheng’er, with his special identity, cannot leave. But with the King of Zhao’s cowardly nature, he wouldn’t dare to kill a Qin hostage. Zheng’er would suffer a bit, but he’d be safe.”

Zhu Xiang said, “I’m not in good health and won’t have children in the future. Zheng’er is the only child between me and Xue. And he’s already been abandoned twice—I will never abandon him a third time.”

A wave of emotion rose in the King of Qin’s heart again.

He was not a soft-hearted man. He didn’t care much for his many sons and grandsons. But looking at Zhu Xiang, why did he feel a kind of helpless pity?

“You’re really going to trade your life for those tens of thousands of Zhao soldiers, and for the life of a little nephew you’ve only been with for a year or two?” the King asked again. “With your talent, if you came with me to Xianyang, I’d immediately make you a Grand Minister and enfeoff you!”

Zhu Xiang couldn’t hold back anymore. He sat up straight and spoke rapidly: “Your Majesty, Zheng’er is your great-grandson! You should care even more about him! He’s such a wonderful child. He could talk before one year old, knew over a thousand characters before he was two, and now he can read the Hundred Schools of Thought with me—”

“Cough cough cough cough!” Bai Qi coughed repeatedly, reminding Zhu Xiang of his status. That’s the King of Qin in front of you! How can you argue with him?

The King of Qin looked amazed.

Zhu Xiang had always been calm and respectful. Why, the moment Zheng’er was mentioned, did he start blushing and stiffly arguing with the King of Qin?

With Bai Qi’s reminder, Zhu Xiang realized he had lost control.

But he was really angry!

Zheng’er is your great-grandson! That poor child is all alone in Zhao, serving as a hostage! What kind of state sends such a young child as a hostage?! Don’t you feel bad for him at all?!

To me, the King of Qin is a stranger. Even if it’s just a test, you shouldn’t say things that would break a child’s heart!

His father doesn’t want him. His mother doesn’t want him. Now even his great-grandfather doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. That grandfather probably doesn’t even know who he is!

My Zheng’er, my little First Emperor, my little Ancestor Dragon—how did you end up with such a family?!

Anyway, I came here to die. I have nothing to lose. Zhu Xiang didn’t even try to smooth things over anymore.

He took out a thin booklet from his robe. “Your Majesty, this is the growth journal I’ve kept for Zheng’er. He’s truly a wonderful and lovable child. You’ll definitely like him!”

The King of Qin silently accepted the booklet Zhu Xiang handed him, feeling a bit awkward.

What is with this Zhu Xiang? If I said to anyone else, ‘My great-grandson doesn’t matter, you matter more,’ they’d be moved to tears.

But this young man… actually got mad?

The King of Qin opened the first page. On the inside cover, Zhu Xiang had drawn a picture with charcoal as a sketch and inked over it—a family portrait of the three of them holding hands.

Zhu Xiang wore a cheerful smile, Xue a gentle one, and the chubby little Zheng’er was smiling so hard his eyes had squinted shut, kicking his short legs high in the air.

The King of Qin had never seen a picture like this.

The figures were so vivid, it felt as if they might step out of the page. Just by looking at the picture, he could feel the joy of the one who drew it, and the overflowing happiness of the people in the picture.

The King of Qin’s heart suddenly softened.

In just that one moment—despite having so many children that he didn’t care for them much, and having no impression or feelings for a great-grandson he’d never met—this old king of Qin suddenly felt a faint affection for the chubby, smiling child in the drawing.

Bai Qi quietly stretched out his neck and caught a glimpse of the illustration on the booklet. He, too, could feel the happiness of the people in the drawing.

“You and your family were living such a happy life. Are you really not going to regret leaving him?” Bai Qi couldn’t hold back. “Aren’t you worried they’ll be heartbroken?”

Zhu Xiang gripped the cuffs of his sleeves tightly. He was silent for a while before choking out, “I am worried. I’ve wronged them, but I have no choice… If I had lived outside Handan, in Yanmen, Dai Commandery, or Yunzhong, I wouldn’t have come. But these are the people around me, and there are too many of them. The people from my village, the neighbors I know—almost all of them came to Changping…”

Bai Qi lifted his hand, then put it back down. He turned to the King of Qin.

The old King of Qin looked at Zhu Xiang, glanced at the illustration again, and let out a deep sigh. “Enough, enough. Bai Qi, take him to the Zhao army’s camp. I’ll listen to you. Let the Zhao soldiers farm potatoes for three months, then I’ll let them go.”

Zhu Xiang wiped his tears with his sleeve and bowed in gratitude. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

Bai Qi got up and led Zhu Xiang away, worried his crying might upset the ruler. Once he settled Zhu Xiang, he planned to advise His Majesty again—not to use Zhu Xiang as a tool against Zhao. As long as Bai Qi lived and Qin had a few years to rest and recover, he believed he would seize the opportunity to take Handan again.

After Zhu Xiang left, the King of Qin relaxed in his seat, even stretching out one leg. He was old. Maintaining a dignified posture was exhausting.

He flipped to the second page of the booklet, curious what this young man had written for his great-grandson.

“Year X, Month X, Day X: Zheng’er wet the bed hahahahahahahaha!”

The King of Qin’s face cracked. Then, he flipped the booklet closed over his lap and held his forehead with one hand.

This Zhu Xiang…

The old king couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

When Bai Qi took Zhu Xiang out, Zhu Xiang was still crying and wiping his tears. As he cried, his nose started running too. Fortunately, he had brought some grass paper and quickly blew his nose.

Bai Qi remained silent.

Moments ago, Zhu Xiang had the air of a noble scholar, and now he was like a weak little dandy.  Aside from pampered dandies, who else could be this delicate?

“Hard to believe you’d risk your life for the people of Zhao.” Away from the King and without his deputy generals around, Bai Qi spoke a little more freely. “Do you regret it now?”

Zhu Xiang casually tossed the tear- and snot-stained paper into the Qin army’s trash heap and said, “I’ve always regretted it. But even so, I’d still do the same. There’s no other way.”

Bai Qi was speechless. This man…

He’d seen plenty of people who weren’t afraid of death, and just as many who were. But someone like Zhu Xiang, both afraid and unafraid of death at the same time—that was a first.

Looking at Zhu Xiang now, who would believe that just moments ago he had been so resolute, wagering his life to save over a hundred thousand Zhao soldiers?

Oh, and not just them—he was also trying to save his family, far away in Handan.

Even though the King of Qin had told him that Lin Xiangru and Lian Po could protect his wife, and that the King of Zhao wouldn’t dare kill his nephew, this man still insisted on returning to die—using the excuse that “Zheng’er mustn’t be abandoned a third time.”

An excuse so bizarre it made one want to knock him upside the head.

Bai Qi truly didn’t understand—when Prince Zichu didn’t care about his own son, and even Zichu’s wife or concubine didn’t care either, why did you treat him like he was more precious than life itself?

Bai Qi fell silent again.

The atmosphere was heavy, and Zhu Xiang felt a bit uncomfortable, so he tried to break the silence. “Why did the Zhao army surrender? Was Zhao Kuo imprisoned? If he saw me, he’d definitely fly into a rage and try to kill me, ha.”

Bai Qi was once again speechless.

You were just crying—now you’re laughing? How can your expression shift so quickly? Shouldn’t you be solemn and heavy-hearted right now? Even if you can adjust your mood quickly, this is a bit too fast, isn’t it?

And are we that close? I’m Bai Qi, the Lord Wu’an who makes children of the Six States cry. Why are you talking to me like we’re old friends?

Bai Qi felt the same powerlessness he experienced dealing with his deputy generals and old soldiers.

Zhu Xiang had no idea that Bai Qi, despite his emotionless face, was having such a whirlwind of thoughts. Even if he did, he’d justify himself—life was already this bitter; if he couldn’t regulate his emotions, he would’ve suffocated from resentment long ago.

What, just because he knew he’d die in a few months, he should spend those months full of dread? Wouldn’t that be worse than death itself?

Cherishing these final months and living them with a smile—that was being kind to himself.

And besides, since he was going to die in a few months anyway, Zhu Xiang naturally wasn’t afraid of Bai Qi. “Where’s Zhao Kuo being held? I want to go mock him first!”

Bai Qi took a small breath and replied in a calm, even tone, “Zhao Kuo was killed by his own soldiers.”

Zhu Xiang stopped in his tracks. “What?!”

Bai Qi stopped as well. “In the army, he accused you of being a Qin traitor and said he’d kill you once he returned to Handan. The Zhao soldiers mutinied for your sake, killed their general, and surrendered.”

The smile faded from Zhu Xiang’s face. He clenched his fists and slowly knelt to the ground, then struck the earth with force.

Bai Qi stood before him, watching Zhu Xiang—who had only choked back tears in front of the King—now sobbing his heart out. Hands clasped behind his back, Bai Qi let out a quiet sigh.

Zhu Xiang’s wish to save these Zhao soldiers had just become far more difficult. Even if Qin released them back to Zhao, they had killed a noble of Zhao. They would still be executed—and might even implicate their entire families.

…Bofu and the others eagerly awaited Zhu Xiang’s arrival. When they saw him, they couldn’t help but rush forward, ignoring the Qin soldiers brought by Bai Qi. The Qin soldiers were initially tense, but Bai Qi raised his hand and waved—at his signal, the Qin soldiers withdrew their weapons and retreated behind him.

“Lord Zhu Xiang!” Bofu was the first to run up. Apart from slightly red eyes, Zhu Xiang, who had cried for a long time earlier, now forced himself to maintain a relaxed smile. “Bofu, you’re still alive?”

“I’m alive, Lord Zhu Xiang, I’m still alive!” The former bodyguard who had once protected Zhu Xiang for free, and who had even made straw toys for Zheng’er, exclaimed emotionally, “Lord Zhu Xiang, I…”

He spoke as he raised the back of his hand to cover his eyes. “I—I never expected it would be you who came to save us.”

“I came,” Zhu Xiang said, embracing the filthy and foul-smelling Bofu, gently patting the back of this wandering warrior who was a few years older than him, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you all survive. We’ll return to Zhao together.”

Bofu cried, “I—I might not be able to return to Zhao.” The people around him also lowered their heads.

They didn’t regret killing Zhao Kuo. If not for Zhao Kuo, they wouldn’t have ended up like this. And Zhao Kuo had insulted Zhu Xiang—the only one who came to rescue them. Even if they could go back in time, they would still kill Zhao Kuo! But having killed a noble, they couldn’t go back.

Zhu Xiang said in a calm, steady voice, “If you can’t go back, then stay here. Most of the people in Shangdang have already fled. There’s enough empty land for you to live on. Whether Zhao or Qin, it doesn’t matter. I only want you all to live. I’ll tell the King of Qin that you’ll help them plant a season of potatoes to supplement their military rations. After that, those who can return to Zhao will go back with me. Those who can’t will be allocated land here and live here.”

Zhu Xiang patted Bofu’s back firmly before letting go. “Don’t cry. Look around—the world is full of scholars who’ve fled to foreign lands to save their lives. You’re capable, you’ll have farmland. In the future, you can farm and serve as soldiers just the same. What’s there to fear? Shangdang isn’t far from Zhao. Once your families hear the news, they’ll definitely sneak over.”

Bofu sniffled. “Will they really be able to come?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Zhao doesn’t have that many troops to control the refugees right now. If you don’t go back, I’ll just say you died in battle. No one will blame your families—there might even be compensation. And those who can return definitely won’t betray you.”

Zhu Xiang glanced at the surrounding Zhao soldiers and said, “If Bofu hadn’t killed Zhao Kuo, you wouldn’t have been able to surrender. You would’ve either starved to death or died in battle. The fact that you’re alive now is thanks to them killing Zhao Kuo. I hope you won’t repay kindness with betrayal.”

A Zhao soldier immediately shouted, “Don’t worry, Lord Zhu Xiang! If anyone dares to betray them, I’ll kill that person myself and flee to Shangdang too!”

“That’s right, we Zhao people aren’t ungrateful like that!”

“So you’re Lord Zhu Xiang? So young! I thought you’d be as old as my dad.”

“Young is good! Young and already so capable. Lord Zhu Xiang will definitely become a great official one day!”

“Lord Zhu Xiang, tell us what to do—we’ll do it!”

“Those potatoes are so tasty. That idiot Zhao Kuo just wouldn’t let us eat them!”

“Lord Zhu Xiang, is General Lian all right?”

“Wu wu wu… Lord Zhu Xiang, can we really be saved?”

“Believe in Lord Zhu Xiang!”

“Yes! If we don’t believe in Lord Zhu Xiang, who can we believe in? Only he came to save us.”

“Lord Zhu Xiang…”

“Lord Zhu Xiang!…”

Cries of “Lord Zhu Xiang” rang out one after another. Those who knew him, those who didn’t, those who had never even heard his name—all the Zhao people gathered around Zhu Xiang, their eyes filled with hope and admiration.

The noise was overwhelming. Zhu Xiang could no longer make out what they were saying. But he still smiled in response. Even though his voice was hoarse, he continued to reply to every cry of “Lord Zhu Xiang.”

Bai Qi stood amid the crowd of Zhao people, unfazed in the slightest. He wanted to see how Zhu Xiang would command this army of over a hundred thousand Zhao soldiers.

“All right, stop shouting. Lord Zhu Xiang’s voice is already hoarse!”

Before Zhu Xiang could act, a few low-ranking officers who had risen through the ranks—led by Bofu—stepped up to maintain order.

Zhu Xiang rubbed his throat. A Zhao soldier brought over a dirty wooden water flask. Zhu Xiang didn’t mind the filth or worry about getting sick. He took it, drank a sip, returned it to the soldier, and thanked him.

The Zhao soldier beamed with delight, only to be yanked back into formation after getting kicked in the butt by a comrade.

“Get me a report on the current status of the Zhao army. I’m going to reorganize them and move the camp,” Zhu Xiang said to Bofu. “From now on, treat me as your commanding general. If anyone disobeys orders, I’ll have the authority to punish them.”

Bofu responded immediately, “Yes, Lord Zhu Xiang! You can count on us!”

Zhu Xiang smiled, “With your help, of course I can count on you.”

Bofu practically floated back to his unit. Those around him glared at him with jealousy.

Bai Qi signaled his personal guard with his eyes. The guard immediately presented a bamboo slip. Bai Qi used awkward, stammering official Zhao speech: “Lord Zhu Xiang, we’ve already counted the number of Zhao soldiers.”

Zhu Xiang accepted the bamboo slip and replied in Qin: “Just speak Qin. I can understand it. I have quite a knack for languages.”

Ever since arriving in this world, his memory had improved dramatically, making it easy to learn new languages.

The Qin soldier visibly relaxed and, switching to his native dialect, spoke much more fluently: “Our general has already tallied the number of Zhao troops and their remaining officers.”

Zhu Xiang thanked him again. He unrolled the bamboo slip. It contained only the names of the Zhao officers who had surrendered, along with the number of troops. The Zhao army couldn’t have surrendered long ago, yet Bai Qi had already gathered this much data—truly impressive.

Zhu Xiang sighed inwardly. With Bai Qi’s awareness and capability, he was a force of overwhelming superiority in this era.

“Thank you, Lord Wu’an,” Zhu Xiang said.

Bai Qi asked, “Do you need me to assign guards for your protection?”

Zhu Xiang looked at the Zhao soldiers and shook his head. “I trust them.”

Bai Qi reminded him, “There are those who support you, and those who hate you. Be cautious.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “I know. But I believe they will have thought of that and will ensure my safety. I also want to see who dares to jump out and try to assassinate me.”

Seeing that Zhu Xiang was insistent, Bai Qi didn’t force any more guards on him and simply instructed the Qin soldiers to keep a close watch on the area.

He said, “I’ll call your people over. As long as you don’t leave this place, do as you wish. If you need more space, come and tell me.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Alright. Thank you, Lord Wu’an.”

Bai Qi turned and left. The personal guards by his side hesitated in their steps.

“What is it?” Bai Qi asked.

One of the guards said, “Lord Wu’an, are you really not going to assign someone to protect Lord Zhu Xiang?”

Bai Qi asked, “Why are you all calling him ‘Lord Zhu Xiang’ too?”

The guard answered sheepishly, “We heard the Zhao people say that Lord Zhu Xiang teaches commoners how to farm. It sounds impressive. Lord Wu’an, it would be great if Lord Zhu Xiang could teach us how to farm too.”

Another guard said, “If the Zhao people are willing to kill generals for him, he must be an incredible person.”

Someone else added, “They say even the King of Zhao abandoned these Zhao soldiers, but Lord Zhu Xiang, with no official position, came to Changping to save them. Of course he’s amazing.”

Normally, Qin soldiers were quiet and expressionless, leading Zhao soldiers to think they were all just emotionless, battle-hardened men.

But in front of Bai Qi, they suddenly became animated, all talking at once, completely forgetting that Lord Wu’an was still there.

Bai Qi wasn’t surprised to hear the soldiers’ admiration for Zhu Xiang.

Who wouldn’t feel respect upon hearing what Zhu Xiang had done?

He quickened his pace toward the main command tent.

His guards followed neatly behind him, but they kept chattering, still talking about the remarkable Lord Zhu Xiang.

Back at the Qin camp, Bai Qi first had the people who came with Zhu Xiang taken to the Zhao soldiers’ camp, then returned to the main tent.

The King of Qin was still there, laughing heartily as he read Zhu Xiang’s diary about raising his great-grandson.

Bai Qi looked at the King and found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

“Why are you back alone?” The King noticed Bai Qi and put down the booklet, craning his neck to look. “Where’s Zhu Xiang?”

Bai Qi said, “Zhu Xiang stayed in the Zhao army camp.”

The King frowned. “You just left him there? There might be people in the Zhao army trying to incite a rebellion among the surrendered troops. They might try to assassinate Zhu Xiang.”

Bai Qi said, “I mentioned it. Zhu Xiang said he’s aware of the danger.”

The King sighed. “That child… Never mind. Send someone to protect him in secret.”

That child? The ruler was calling Zhu Xiang a child now?

Bai Qi pulled over a cushion and sat next to the King, silently gathering his thoughts.

The King continued reading the diary. “What is it you want to say to me?”

Bai Qi asked, “Does Your Majesty truly intend to follow Zhu Xiang’s plan—to use his death to strike a blow against Zhao?”

The King glanced up at Bai Qi, then returned to reading. “Why? Even he doesn’t care about dying. You can’t bear to let him die?”

Bai Qi said, “If he goes to Qin instead of dying in Zhao, it would benefit Qin more.”

The King asked, “Even if we’re not attacking Handan right now?”

Bai Qi answered, “Yes. Zhu Xiang has a point—Qin does need a few years to recover. We’ve conquered a lot of land in recent years, but the people on that land haven’t yet become Qin people. I’m only good at warfare, not much else. But if Zhu Xiang came to Qin, he might be able to quickly turn people from other states into Qin citizens.”

He told the King how the Qin soldiers admired Zhu Xiang. “Our soldiers have no fondness for the Zhao and have received no favor from Zhu Xiang. Yet merely hearing of him, they’re willing to call him ‘Lord Zhu Xiang’ and are even asking me to send people to protect him. I think the common people are probably the same.”

The King laughed. “It’s rare to hear you talk this much.”

Bai Qi thought to himself: I’ve already earned enough military merit from battles. How could I dare to speak so much in front of Your Majesty? And even like this, Chancellor Fan still doesn’t like me…

Thinking of Chancellor Fan, Bai Qi started to get a headache. He asked, “Your Majesty, does Chancellor Fan truly dislike me…?”

The King said sternly, “You ought to visit the gentleman more often! It must be that you’ve shown him too little respect, which is why he doesn’t trust you!”

For once, Bai Qi felt a bit of grievance toward his ruler.

Fan Ju was the Chancellor managing internal affairs, while he himself was a general in the field. Bai Qi had once been on good terms with the maternal uncle of the previous King of Qin, who was exiled. After the current King exiled his uncle, Bai Qi had been on edge ever since—how could he dare to get close to Fan Ju?

Though he didn’t have much contact with Fan Ju, he still found every excuse to send lavish gifts to him during the New Year or even outside of festivals.

Thinking of all this, Bai Qi felt even more aggrieved.

That Chancellor Fan is really too much. I’ve given him so many gifts, and he still dislikes me.

But Bai Qi knew how much the King favored Fan Ju, so despite his inner grievance, he could only say, “I will definitely visit him personally once I return to Xianyang. Your Majesty, once I return, may I take leave under the pretense of illness? I’ll come back when there’s another war.”

The King agreed without hesitation, “Alright. And make sure to be extra friendly to the gentleman!”

Bai Qi: “Yes…”

He was gloomy. Your Majesty plays favorites like this—aren’t you afraid others will lose heart? Even though he would never betray Qin, if the state cast him aside, he wouldn’t go to another country—he’d probably just choose death. But that didn’t make it any less painful.

Although the King couldn’t read Bai Qi’s emotionless face clearly, he knew he had to offer some comfort to prevent any resentment from forming toward Fan Ju.

“That gentleman came to Qin alone, with no friends or family. He’s lonely and overthinks things. Lord Wu’an, don’t hold it against him,” the King said, trying to mediate. “I won’t strip you of your position. Why don’t you stay at Zhu Xiang’s place for now to recover? Zichu said Zhu Xiang is excellent at taking care of people. Even Lian Po and Lin Xiangru would stay at his house to recuperate when they were sick.”

Bai Qi hesitated. “I don’t really know Zhu Xiang.”

The King replied, “His nephew is my great-grandson. If I say you two know each other, then you know each other. You’ve spent years on the battlefield and suffer from many ailments. Zhu Xiang is my junior—and yours too. It’s only right that he takes care of you.”

Bai Qi cupped his hands in thanks. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Does this mean you’re not letting Zhu Xiang return to Handan?”

The King smiled. “Oh, he’ll return. Why wouldn’t he? He wants the King of Zhao to kill him—and I also want to see whether the King of Zhao will really do it. If the King of Zhao tries to kill him, then you can rest and recover in peace for a while. If he doesn’t… hmph. Even if chaos breaks out in Xianyang, I’ll lead the army myself and accompany you to take Handan.”

Looking at the overly gleeful smile on his King’s face, Bai Qi was deeply troubled.

So, Your Majesty… do you actually want to save Zhu Xiang or not? Could you please stop being so cryptic?