HCT – Chapter 28 Meat Sauce Over Millet Rice

Actually, it didn’t matter which deity’s gift Zhu Xiang had accepted. Those legendary figures who had received divine teachings and transformed into virtuous ministers assisting wise rulers never clearly stated their lineage— and even if they did, there was no way to prove they weren’t lying.

As long as Zhu Xiang served Qin, Qin was happy to promote him and use his reputation to legitimize and justify Qin’s unification of the realm; if he could not be of use to Qin, then he was a demon to be executed.

During the Warring States period, many ghosts and gods were revered, but the kings of various states often razed mountains and temples.

Fan Ju asked Zichu purely out of curiosity. He knew his own lord would certainly be curious as well. Who wouldn’t be curious about the gods?

At Changping.

After receiving the Qin king’s approval, Zhu Xiang built manual workshops equipped with bellows to forge agricultural tools from the confiscated weapons of Zhao soldiers.

The bronze casting technology of the Shang and Western Zhou dynasties laid a solid foundation for iron smelting technology.

Starting with the “block smelting method,” as early as the late Spring and Autumn period, China had invented cast iron smelting. By the Warring States period, cast iron smelting was already very advanced. The West did not use water-powered bellows and cast iron smelting techniques until the 14th century.

Iron hoes were unearthed from Chu tombs dating to the late Spring and Autumn period. Since iron tools could already be used in farming, iron smelting had clearly reached a civilian stage by that time. Naturally, the weapons of soldiers today were all iron. The Mohists were also skilled in forging iron tools and did not need Zhu Xiang to micromanage.

However, the king and some generals of noble birth still used bronze swords.

Bronze, after many years of oxidation, turns blue-green. When freshly cast, it shines with a golden luster even more dazzling than gold. Therefore, bronze swords were not only weapons but symbols of power and status.

Although bronze was less flexible and had a lower yield compared to iron, it was very hard. Warring States weapons retained the shape of the bronze era, mostly wide swords. Under this sword form, iron had little advantage over bronze. So generals using bronze swords on the battlefield did not lose fighting ability.

When the Qin king agreed to melt down the weapons of Zhao soldiers to make agricultural tools, he confiscated the iron sword that Bo Fu had used to chop Zhao Kuo.

He was old now but would still often hold that simple iron sword, waving it around, pretending to fight.

Zhu Xiang guessed that the Qin king was probably quite capable in battle when he was young.

Xiang He and the Mohist disciples quickly forged a batch of iron hoes and iron plowshares.

The people brought by Xu Ming were equally skilled at making wooden parts for farming tools. They cut wood to combine with the iron hoes and plowshares, creating the wide-faced hoes and curved-shaft plows Zhu Xiang had once described to them.

Although there were no draft oxen, the Zhao army still had many horses. Some injured or lame horses that could no longer fight were perfect for farming.

Perhaps the horses sensed that without battlefield value, their only way to survive was as “plow horses.” Previously, they were temperamental and would bite other soldiers’ clothes if they were not their masters. Now they were docile and steady in their plowing steps.

When the first batch of iron farming tools was completed, the potatoes Zhu Xiang had brought were ready for planting.

They dug up the soil in the fields, piling it into high ridges. A group of Zhao soldiers still wore their ragged, unwashed clothes of months past, wielding iron hoes diligently turning the soil.

While digging, they uncovered human bones wrapped in cloth.

Before Qin’s arrival, this land was a strategic point contested by Wei, Zhao, and Han states. Dig a little deeper and you’d find bones from unknown times.

The Zhao soldiers were used to this.

They exposed the bones, then continued digging.

After finishing the digging, they smashed the bones, spread a layer of dry grass on the ground, and set it on fire.

After the dry grass burned out, the bones became brittle and burned as well. They dug the soil again and buried the ashes and bone fragments back into the earth as fertilizer.

This wasteland was soaked with the blood and water of soldiers and refugees, making the soil fertile but full of bacteria. Burning it once before planting could reduce the spread of pathogens harmful to the potatoes.

This was the first layer of sterilization.

When they began planting the potatoes, the seed pits were sprinkled with quicklime.

While mining coal across the hills and valleys, Zhu Xiang also dug up plenty of lime ore and produced a lot of quicklime. Although they hadn’t made cement, quicklime could be used on farmland, functioning both as a “pesticide” and “fertilizer.”

There was an art to how much quicklime to scatter—too little was useless, too much would “burn” the seeds. Without instruments to analyze soil composition, Zhu Xiang gauged it by observing soil and soil-dissolved water color, the vegetation growing on the soil, and even tasting it… This allowed him to roughly estimate soil composition and determine the proper amount of quicklime to apply.

Zhu Xiang not only told the Zhao soldiers how much quicklime to spread but also lectured them extensively on his soil analysis experience.

The remaining commanders among the Zhao soldiers were helpless. They thought Zhu Xiang’s talk was too profound, and the ignorant soldiers could never understand it.

The Qin king’s advisor, still pretending to be Bai Qi, thought the same.

A few days later, some older Zhao soldiers independently judged the amount of quicklime needed and asked Zhu Xiang. After Zhu Xiang approved a few times, he sent these veterans out to share the quicklime spreading work.

Several thousand more Zhao soldiers died during this period—some from illness, some from severe wounds. Now only about 150,000 remained.

Time was tight; the farming season was limited to three months. Even though Zhu Xiang trusted that the Qin king would extend the deadline and only make decisions after the potato harvest, they still had to hurry with the planting.

One person alone guiding 150,000 was not enough in terms of energy or time.

Analyzing soil should originally have been a very complicated matter. The King of Qin was very surprised to see someone learn Zhu Xiang’s “special skill” so quickly.

Zhu Xiang smiled and explained, “Who else knows the land better than the old farmers who have worked with the soil their whole lives? They already have experience judging soil composition, but their knowledge is scattered and unsystematic. I just helped organize it, turning their experience into knowledge. It’s like someone who already knows how to read starting to study articles—naturally, it goes quickly.”

The King of Qin looked at Zhu Xiang deeply, with an inexplicable expression.

Zhu Xiang didn’t care what the king was thinking and asked whether the king wanted to send some Qin soldiers to receive his guidance.

“Potato yields are high, but I don’t recommend you plant potatoes on your own farmland. I also brought some better winter wheat seeds, and now is the time to plant winter wheat. Would you like to try my seeds?” Zhu Xiang asked without much hope, thinking the people of Qin wouldn’t trust him.

The King of Qin made no decision; instead, he told Bai Qi to inform the Qin soldiers stationed here for farming to decide for themselves.

Bai Qi reported back, “They all want to plant the seeds Zhu Xiang brought. Because the seeds are limited, they even fought over them, and I punished them with military orders.”

Thanks to Fan Ju’s long-distance delivery of meat, wine, and sauces, the King of Qin’s diet greatly improved. He put down the millet rice soaked with meat sauce and wiped the grease from his beard: “They trust Zhu Xiang that much?”

Bai Qi said, “They obviously completely believe in Zhu Xiang’s reputation—after all, he’s someone who made Zhao soldiers kill their generals for him.”

The King of Qin smacked his lips, swallowed the taste in his mouth, and stroked his beard: “Do you believe in Zhu Xiang’s reputation?”

Bai Qi said, “I suspect Zhu Xiang’s abilities may be even more terrifying than his reputation.”

The King of Qin smiled: “Why say terrifying?”

Bai Qi said calmly, “Using Zhu Xiang might more easily defeat the Six States than my soldiers’ blades. I beg Your Majesty not to let Zhu Xiang return to Handan. Even a small possibility of his death must be prevented.”

The King of Qin shook his head smiling, “You only see his ability. You must also see his character. He dares to argue politics with my son Zheng’er. If we imprison him in Qin and endanger Zheng’er and Zhu Xiang’s wife, even with Zichu present, he would not feel at ease serving me.”

At this, the King’s expression became a bit strange. His smile seemed mixed with amusement and schadenfreude.

“If Zheng’er and Zhu Xiang’s wife are in danger, maybe after learning Zichu’s identity, he would be even angrier,” the King laughed. “He even dared to scold me for not loving my great-grandson enough. Maybe he’d dare to stab Zichu with a sword.”

After Zhu Xiang arrived at Changping, the servants of the Lian family, under the orders of Lian Po and others, supervised Zhu Xiang’s daily sword training.

The three elders were deeply worried about Zhu Xiang’s weak strength. Bai Qi watched one of Zhu Xiang’s sword training sessions briefly, then turned and left without watching again.

As a commander, Bai Qi never showed emotions easily. But Zhu Xiang’s sword practice made him so anxious that if he looked again, he might impulsively rush forward, snatch the sword from Zhu Xiang, and angrily hit him on the head.

If not for the Lian family servants telling him Zhu Xiang was really practicing diligently and seriously, he would have thought Zhu Xiang was just messing around to fool Lian Po, Lin Xiangru, and Xun Kuang who assigned him the tasks.

“With Zhu Xiang’s sword skills, even if Young Master Zichu stood before him, he wouldn’t be able to assassinate him,” Bai Qi said. “Has Your Majesty decided to send Zhu Xiang back to Handan?”

The King of Qin nodded with a smile: “Yes.”

Bai Qi sighed silently and said no more. Having lived to sixty, he knew when to speak and when not to. Qin soldiers nearly fought over the limited winter wheat seeds Zhu Xiang brought. When Zhao soldiers heard about it, they had a good laugh at the Qin soldiers.

Zhu Xiang did not laugh. As the weather grew colder, more Zhao soldiers fell ill or had worsening injuries. Although he brought food supplies, he did not have enough medicine.

In this era, people mostly had to endure illness on their own. Even if he brought medicine, it wouldn’t save lives.

Zhu Xiang thought about how to treat the wounded. There were some effective herbs, high-concentration alcohol, garlic extract extracted with lime and high-proof alcohol… His mind indeed held much knowledge about saving the wounded, but none of it was usable.

Where could he find herbs? How could he get enough high-proof alcohol when even food was scarce? Garlic extract required alcohol to prepare, and garlic was still in the Western Regions, not yet introduced to Central China!

Getting medicine was completely impossible. Zhu Xiang decided to reduce illness and injury worsening by improving environmental hygiene.

At this time, wounds were mostly treated with cauterization using hot irons—burning wounds to stop bleeding and kill germs. But germs inside wounds were helplessly untreated, and cauterization could worsen wounds.

Zhu Xiang instructed the wounded to endure pain and clean wounds with warm water before cauterization, which lowered the death rate among the injured.

The Zhao soldiers were deeply moved and respected Zhu Xiang more. Yet Zhu Xiang still felt powerless.

He had wanted the Zhao soldiers to bathe more, change clothes frequently, and drink boiled water. That could eliminate most early-stage diseases.

But he only managed to promote cleaning wounds before treatment.

The Zhao soldiers had only one or two sets of clothes, so frequent changes were impossible; even with coal dug, the supply was tight for cooking and winter heating, so daily boiling water was unfeasible; even if they had time, they didn’t have the time to bathe daily.

The Qin people did not do charity; most of the supplies Zhu Xiang brought were confiscated. The Zhao soldiers’ daily food was just enough to avoid starvation. After heavy labor, they were exhausted and immediately fell asleep—how could they have time to bathe or wash clothes?

When survival itself was an issue, stressing personal hygiene was a joke. Zhu Xiang sent people to promptly clear and burn garbage and maintain clean water sources, already reaching the limit.

People around him died one by one, and each day they had to burn the corpses. The Zhao soldiers had no dissatisfaction with Zhu Xiang for not saving these people; they instead revered him even more fervently.

Only Zhu Xiang mourned silently for the fires burning over the daily corpses.

At this moment, the only way he could cheer himself up was to go tease the Qin King a little, and sneak glances at the trembling eyes and twitching mouth corners of Lord Wu’an, who was trying hard to keep a straight face.

Perhaps he had pushed Lord Wu’an too far. Bai Qi finally couldn’t hold back anymore. Taking advantage of Zhu Xiang’s patrol in the farmlands, he found Zhu Xiang alone to have a private talk.

They stood by a small lake with uneven terrain between them. The guards patrolled at a distance, and as long as they lowered their voices slightly, the sound of the water splashing would mask their words.

Bai Qi got straight to the point: “You are too disrespectful to the Qin King. Although the Qin King is currently indulging you, this is very dangerous.”

Zhu Xiang was very surprised that Bai Qi would kindly warn him. He saw that Bai Qi was very skilled at self-preservation. He thought Bai Qi would keep silent and watch him dig his own grave.

Bai Qi assumed Zhu Xiang’s surprise was at what he said, so he continued, “When rulers of various states seek talented men, they promise many benefits. But when they want to execute a minister, no merits or promises will help.”

Zhu Xiang stared blankly at Bai Qi. He realized Bai Qi wasn’t just advising him, but also speaking about himself.

“I know,” said Zhu Xiang, “I know that in this era, human life is worth less than grass. In the eyes of rulers, commoners like us—even if we become close ministers—can be killed at will, just like slaves.”

He picked up a small stone and flicked it toward the lake surface. The stone skipped three times on the water before sinking.

“When King Huiwen of Zhao was in power, he loved watching sword fights. He employed over three thousand swordsmen, and more than a hundred died daily in swordplay. Zhuangzi used the swords of emperors, lords, and commoners to persuade King Huiwen, who listened. Then all those three thousand swordsmen committed suicide,” Zhu Xiang laughed, “Heh, suicide.”

King Huiwen wanted to watch sword dances, so those swordsmen fought and died daily for his amusement; when King Huiwen wanted to be a benevolent ruler, those swordsmen all killed themselves.

“No one in the world thought this was wrong. They all praised King Huiwen,” Zhu Xiang said, “No one cared whether those three thousand swordsmen were innocent, no one cared about their lives.”

Bai Qi also knew this story. When he first heard it, he didn’t think of King Huiwen but of those three thousand swordsmen who committed suicide—it was a pity.

Bai Qi did not value commoners much. He didn’t care about commoners from other states at all. He just thought this was foolish.

Those who could perform sword fighting for King Zhao must have been outstanding swordsmen. Wouldn’t it be better for Zhao if these people were enlisted in the army to fight?

At that time, Bai Qi’s experience was still limited. Later, he learned that outside Qin, commoners rarely rose in the military ranks.

Later, he also learned that even if commoners rose in Qin, their status was still very different from those born noble.

Zhu Xiang said, “Lord Wu’an, I have read many histories. Ministers distrusted by rulers who have noble names mostly manage to flee to other states, but those of humble origin can only choose suicide or execution.”

Bai Qi calmly said, “In Qin, even ministers of higher birth, if the ruler wants them dead, can only die.”

Zhu Xiang asked, “Like Shang Jun?”

Bai Qi nodded.

Zhu Xiang asked, “I’m not trying to sow discord. If the Qin King wants to kill you, would you just accept your guilt and die?”

Bai Qi glanced at Zhu Xiang and said, “I can’t escape Qin.”

Zhu Xiang plopped down by the lake and said, “Yeah, that’s why after Lord Wu’an learned about the prime minister’s malice and the Qin King’s favoritism, he could only endure silently, not even struggling. Lord Wu’an understands it clearly.”

Bai Qi didn’t answer. He found that he had underestimated Zhu Xiang. Zhu Xiang, like him, also saw through it all.

After learning that Fan Ju had a grudge against him and the Qin King excessively favored Fan Ju, Bai Qi was very sad. But he did nothing and planned to do nothing.

As an official in Qin, his life and fortune all depended on the Qin King’s favor. If the king wanted him to be Lord Wu’an, then he was Lord Wu’an; if the king wanted to demote him to a commoner, then he would be a commoner; if the king wanted him dead, no matter his merits or innocence, he would have to die.

If he struggled, it would only make the king dislike him more.

Quietly watching the king decide, and continuing to work steadily and diligently for the king, was the best chance for survival.

He thought Zhu Xiang didn’t know, but it turned out Zhu Xiang knew.

Zhu Xiang stared at the lake, his gaze vacant: “Lord Wu’an, actually what I said to the Qin King about the prime minister was polished. In my heart, I don’t think that way.”

Bai Qi knew he shouldn’t ask, and asking might not be a good thing, but he couldn’t help himself: “What’s your real opinion?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Fan Ju is narrow-minded, greedy, harms loyal ministers, and endangers Qin; the Qin King is biased, favors kin over the worthy. If Fan Ju was not truly a virtuous prime minister before, they would be nothing but treacherous ministers and foolish kings—what’s the difference with King Zhao?”

The world says the Battle of Changping was the beginning of Zhao’s decline and laid the foundation for Qin Shi Huang’s unification.

People see the article that actually criticizes Qin Shi Huang, saying “striving on the legacy of six generations,” as if Qin Shi Huang sat on his ancestors’ achievements and did nothing.

But looking at the history books, after Changping, Zhao did weaken, but Qin did not seize the opportunity. Instead, the Zhao King rallied, and Zhao prospered again. If only the next two Zhao kings hadn’t been fools—if only one had been mediocre—Zhao could have regained its strength.

After Changping, the wise old Qin King became a foolish ruler.

Zhu Xiang looked at the flattering letters between the old Qin King and Fan Ju, thinking that many in later generations must be moved by their deep loyalty.

Even the historian who disliked Qin and Qin dynasty, when writing about Fan Ju resigning because of the old Qin King’s words, used a bitter tone to defend the old Qin King, saying “the old Qin King only wanted to encourage Fan Ju; Fan Ju, feeling guilty, thought the king was scolding him, so he left.”

This loyalty between ruler and minister is truly touching.

But behind this touching loyalty? There was the wrongly killed Bai Qi, the 200,000 Qin soldiers beheaded at Hangu Pass, and the ordinary Qin people who were farming in the lands of the Three Jin after the army left Hangu Pass, only to be expelled and slaughtered.

After the Battle of Changping, the King of Qin ignored Bai Qi and instead trusted Fan Ju. The disastrous defeat at the Battle of Handan pushed Qin all the way back to Hangu Pass.

The lands of the Three Jin states that Bai Qi had conquered throughout his lifetime of campaigns were all taken back by the three kingdoms, and Qin once again shrank behind Hangu Pass, afraid to advance eastward—effectively reverting to the early Warring States period.

If it weren’t for the fact that Chu was in internal turmoil at the time, Qin would have lost even some of its Chu territories. The efforts of the old King of Qin over forty or fifty years were basically all for nothing.

The old King of Qin lived nearly ten years after the Battle of Changping. During those ten years, Qin’s territory kept shrinking, and its great generals and famous ministers gradually became mediocre.

The two men promoted by Fan Ju both defected. According to Qin law, Fan Ju should have been held responsible. But the old King of Qin ordered that no one in court was allowed to mention this matter, and anyone who did would be executed.

Ah, what a touching and earth-shaking loyalty between monarch and minister.

Zhu Xiang picked up another stone and flicked it toward the lake surface. This time, the stone skipped seven times across the water—quite impressive.

“Qin and Zhao are no different. Both have kings who do whatever they want, and favored ministers who do whatever they want. Others, no matter how righteous their intentions or how great their merits—like Lian Gong and Lin Gong in Zhao—can be discarded at the king’s whim,” Zhu Xiang said, watching the lake.

“The only difference might be who the favored person is, whether it’s oneself or not.”

Zhu Xiang smiled and said, “The King of Qin favors me now. Being a favored minister really feels good.”

Bai Qi stood behind Zhu Xiang and asked, “Are you disappointed in Qin as well?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “How could I be disappointed in a country where I get to be a favored minister? Lord Wu’an, thank you for your words today.”

“Since you understand it in your heart, it doesn’t matter whether I say it or not. I should thank you for pleading for me in front of the King of Qin,” Bai Qi asked the question buried deep inside him, “You should hate me. Why did you help me?”

Zhu Xiang smiled again, but his tone was somewhat cold: “I actually don’t care about whether it’s Zhao or Qin. If I have any concern, it’s for the people around me, and… for unifying the world sooner, to end the wars.”

The old King of Qin’s incompetence caused ten years of stagnation, and Qin again became unable to advance eastward beyond Hangu Pass.

Later kings of Qin tried to leave Hangu Pass but were pushed back again by allied armies of other states. It is said one reason the father of the First Emperor died young was from the distress of nearly losing Hangu Pass.

During the reign of the First Emperor, there were years of famine. Helpless, he could only send troops out of Hangu Pass to loot. Coincidentally, the rulers of other states were all mentally unstable at that time. After one raid, then another, the Qin forces surged like a torrent and eventually unified the entire realm.

So, the efforts of six generations were indeed built on institutions and lessons learned. But if one probes deeply into what the old King of Qin left for the First Emperor, it was probably a bitter experience of suddenly failing just when the situation was favorable.

My First Emperor is awesome!

Bai Qi quietly looked down at Zhu Xiang, who was still splashing the water. Zhu Xiang wondered if, had he lived, he could have accelerated Qin’s unification of the realm?

Zhu Xiang continued throwing stones, and Bai Qi watched him silently for a while before looking up at the ripples on the lake surface. Then Bai Qi left without saying goodbye, turning around and walking away.

When Bai Qi left, the system chimed a notification: “Bai Qi’s favorability unlocked. Current favorability: 1. Host, do you want to draw a lottery?”

Zhu Xiang dropped the small stone, stretched out his arms, and lay down on the possibly corpse-buried ground, staring blankly at the sky.

Recently, both the King of Qin and Bai Qi had been very kind to him. His favorability should have been at least two, but actually, neither had unlocked their favorability.

The favorability system’s judgment is quite strict. The system’s description was indeed only “for reference.” The King of Qin could affectionately tap his iron head, yet the favorability was still not unlocked.

Even if favorability was only one, perhaps it was more sincere than two people living sweetly together for a lifetime.

He didn’t know why Bai Qi’s favorability was unlocked. Was it because he had babbled some heartfelt thoughts? Whatever, he was going to die anyway.

Zhu Xiang took a deep breath, stood up, dusted off the dirt, and continued inspecting and directing the fields.

Two days later, Bai Qi did something that confirmed in reality that his favorability with Zhu Xiang was indeed unlocked—he persuaded the King of Qin to release some Zhao prisoners.

The Zhao prisoners Bai Qi released were all old, weak, sick, or disabled—about fifty thousand in total. Nearly all the ones Zhu Xiang worried wouldn’t survive the winter were on this list.

They returned to Zhao, with houses, family care, possibly some compensation, and could even find traveling doctors or shamans. No matter how you think about it, their survival rate would be much higher than staying here with limited supplies.

Even if they died, dying surrounded by family was a completely different feeling from dying in the Changping prison camp.

Zhu Xiang wiped his tears with the back of his hand and sent the King of Qin and Bai Qi a big block of tofu soaked in brine along with tofu recipes.

“Thank you, King of Qin. Thank you, Lord Wu’an.” Zhu Xiang cried like a waterfall.

The King of Qin sighed. Seeing Zhu Xiang like this, he really hadn’t grown up yet.

“We released some people first. The Qin army’s grain pressure lessened a lot, and it also puts pressure on Zhao. Not for you,” Bai Qi said, “It’s for Qin.”

The King of Qin glanced at Bai Qi. Bai Qi didn’t explain, and the king believed him. He felt that although Bai Qi still looked expressionless, his heart seemed a little uneasy.

Later he would write to his teacher to share this news.

When the potato sprouts grew taller and the winter wheat seedlings emerged, about fifty thousand old, weak, sick Zhao prisoners returned to Zhao.

Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang personally went to the Zhao border to welcome them, did not hold the defeated soldiers responsible, and gave them plenty of relief grain to help them survive the winter.

Zhao now lacked people to farm. Even old and weak people who survived this winter could still farm for Zhao.

Fifty thousand people returned to Zhao, shaking the country’s court and people. Many civilians secretly set up memorial tablets for Zhu Xiang at home.

Zhu Xiang’s reputation once again echoed throughout the seven states.

Even the Qin people who heard of Zhu Xiang’s deeds were extremely surprised.

To be able to make their Lord Wu’an release someone—this Zhu Xiang must be incredibly capable.

Ever since Zhu Xiang left, little Ying Zheng had sat on the threshold every day, gazing off into the distance. Even when reading, he insisted on sitting at the doorway.

Xue was worried he’d catch a cold. After failing to persuade him with a few gentle words, she simply placed a brazier beside him.

“If you fall ill, how anxious will your uncle be when he returns?” Xue touched Ying Zheng’s forehead and said, “Zheng’er, for your uncle’s sake, we both need to take care of ourselves. In his heart, no one is more important than you and me. Not even Lord Lin and the others can compare.”

Ying Zheng puffed up his cheeks and pouted. “If we’re the most important, then why did Uncle still leave us?”

Xue squatted in front of him and replied, “We are the most important, and though others don’t surpass us in importance, there are just too many of them. Even if they can’t compare to us, they still matter more than your uncle himself.”

Ying Zheng lowered his head, his mouth drooping further. “So… it’s not that they were more important than us, but they were more important than Uncle himself?”

Xue nodded. “That’s just the kind of man your uncle is.”

Ying Zheng reached out and threw himself into his aunt’s arms. “Auntie, Uncle will come back, right?”

Xue hugged him tight and rubbed his head. “Mm.”

She hoped her beloved would return. But what he had done before leaving made her deeply uneasy.

She knew her man too well. When he left, he had definitely prepared for the possibility of never coming back.

All she could do was hope he was only preparing—not truly going to die.

Just as she lifted Ying Zheng into her arms, a carriage came to a sudden stop at the gate.

Lin Xiangru stumbled off the carriage, nearly falling.

“Quick! Get on, now!” he said urgently.

Xue didn’t understand why, but since Lin Xiangru was so serious, she climbed aboard with Ying Zheng in her arms.

Lin Xiangru shouted to Lin Zhi, who was driving, “Back to the residence—no, to General Lian Po’s estate! Go find Lian Po!”

Lin Zhi cracked the whip, speeding toward Lian Po’s estate.

Halfway there, they happened to run into Lian Po, who was on horseback with a squad of private soldiers.

He, too, had come to pick up Xue and Ying Zheng from Zhu Xiang’s home.

“Hurry!” Lian Po said solemnly.

With Lian Po’s soldiers escorting them, the carriage entered his estate, where they switched to another one headed for his fiefdom.

Although Lian Po had been dismissed from office, King Huiwen of Zhao had not revoked his fief.

Lian Po was from the Ying clan, a branch known as the Lian clan. Tracing the lineage back, they might have been related to the Zhao royal family hundreds of years ago. Because of this, the Lian clan had long held a fief, which had grown to resemble a self-sustaining city. Most of Lian Po’s private soldiers were stationed there.

Xue held Ying Zheng tightly, full of anxiety.

Ever since Zhu Xiang had joined Lin Xiangru, she had never left Handan. This was the first time.

Ying Zheng clung to her neck, his lips pressed tightly together.

As his body and mind developed, Ying Zheng had begun to digest some of the knowledge granted to him through his dreams. He was far more mature and intelligent than other children.

Seeing the tense expressions of Lords Lin and Lian, he had already formed a guess.

But knowing his aunt was already worried enough, he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to increase her fear.

“Alright. Now that we’re in my fief, I doubt the King of Zhao would dare storm in,” Lian Po said, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Lin Xiangru coughed and calmly said, “The King of Zhao probably won’t take direct action. Zhu Xiang has immense prestige now—he can’t make a move under his name. So it’s likely Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang are handling things for him.”

Lian Po snorted. “Or maybe it’s the Lou clan. They’re no longer of royal Zhao blood, but they’re still treated like royalty. When the king wants to do something underhanded and can’t use the royal family directly, he always uses them.”

The monarch was always most wary of his kin—and yet also trusted them the most. The Lou clan, as semi-royals, were the King’s blade for handling shady affairs.

Xue trembled slightly as she held Ying Zheng close. “What’s going on? Could it be… something happened to my husband?”

Lian Po laughed. “Your husband is fine. He really did convince Bai Qi to release fifty thousand Zhao people. Those who were freed said Zhu Xiang is now leading the remaining captives in planting potatoes for Qin. If the harvest is good, the rest of them might be freed too.”

Xue was overjoyed. “Really? Then he might come back too?”

Lin Xiangru had intended to hide the truth, but Xue was so perceptive she had already guessed this was about Zhu Xiang. There was no point in hiding it—it might only make her more afraid.

He sighed. “Zhu Xiang is held in such high regard by the Qin that they might agree to release the captured soldiers—but the King of Qin might not be willing to let Zhu Xiang return to Zhao.”

Xue’s body trembled violently. “Then… he’ll have to go to Qin and never come back?”

Ying Zheng clutched his aunt’s neck and whipped his head around. “I don’t believe it! Uncle wouldn’t leave me and Auntie behind!”

Lin Xiangru tried to soothe him. “Zhu Xiang naturally wouldn’t want to go. But if the King of Qin forces him to go, what could he do?”

Ying Zheng thought of his great-grandfather’s reputation, and his lips trembled. Tears began to fall like golden beads. “Did Great-Grandfather ever think—if Uncle doesn’t come back, what will happen to Auntie and me?”

Lian Po snorted coldly. “Your great-grandfather? Would he have ever considered that?”

Ying Zheng buried his face in his aunt’s neck.

Yes. Neither Great-Grandfather, Grandfather, nor Father would ever consider him.

None of them ever had.

Lin Xiangru sighed. “People close to the King of Zhao will surely advise him to detain you both, to threaten Zhu Xiang, and stop him from serving Qin.”

Lian Po looked at Xue, silently weeping, and Ying Zheng, sobbing and curling into himself. He offered comfort: “Don’t worry. Zhu Xiang is clever. He’ll find a way to return to Zhao. Stay here for now. Once he’s back, everything will be fine.”

Lin Xiangru added, “If Zhu Xiang truly is taken by the King of Qin, then Qin will definitely send someone to Zhao to demand the return of the hostage prince. When that time comes, your family will be reunited. Don’t worry.”

Lian Po looked at Lin Xiangru.

Lin Xiangru’s expression was full of determination.

Lian Po rubbed his nose and laughed. “Right. Don’t worry. I heard that brat Zhao Kuo died in battle. The King of Zhao should finally realize he needs me. I’ll petition him too—ask him to send you back to Qin. If Zhu Xiang really can’t return, keeping you here will only provoke his resentment and make him even more loyal to Qin.”

Xue, tears streaming down her face, still held Ying Zheng tightly. She bowed deeply and gratefully to Lin Xiangru and Lian Po.