HCT – Chapter 29 Celebration and Potato Flowers

When Xue and Ying Zheng arrived at Lian Po’s fief, Xun Kuang and Cai Ze were still staying at Zhu Xiang’s residence.

Xun Kuang glanced at Cai Ze and said, “Didn’t you say you studied all the arts just to seek wealth and status? It’s dangerous here—why haven’t you run off yet?”

Cai Ze didn’t answer.

He was a bit puzzled himself about why he hadn’t left. But indeed, he had no desire to flee.

“Zhu Xiang values his family. He’ll definitely come back,” Cai Ze changed the subject. “Before he returns, I’ll help guard his house.”

Xun Kuang snorted coldly. “He may want to come back, but will the King of Qin let him?”

Cai Ze replied, “With Zhu Xiang’s wit, he’ll definitely persuade the King of Qin.”

Xun Kuang slapped the table hard, gritting his teeth. “It’d be better if the King of Qin just kidnapped him. But if he truly convinces the king to let him return to Zhao—that would be a real disaster! That brat probably didn’t tell the full truth before leaving!”

Cai Ze remained silent.

Zhu Xiang had stirred up a huge commotion in Changping, completely unlike the “persuasion” they had imagined. Cai Ze was already realizing that Zhu Xiang likely had other plans in mind.

Cai Ze and Zhu Xiang were of the same generation. Compared to elders like Xun Kuang, Cai Ze understood Zhu Xiang better.

“I wonder when the King of Zhao will send someone, and who he’ll send,” Xun Kuang muttered after cursing Zhu Xiang a bit, then smoothed the wrinkles on his robes. He sneered, “Hopefully that fool won’t do something as idiotic as killing scholars, giving advantage to the King of Qin.”

Zhu Xiang might not have been a “shi” (scholar-gentleman) by birth, but the bold act he’d carried out had already made him a “shi” in the eyes of people across the Seven States.

The title “shi” was not only a matter of birth, but also a praise for noble character.

Xun Kuang sat quietly in the secluded courtyard, waiting for the King of Zhao to send someone.

Cai Ze brought him a cup of jujube tea, then quietly sat behind him.

When the sound of hooves approached the front gate, Cai Ze rose to open it.

Walking along the small path through the courtyard, Cai Ze lifted his head to glance at the most prominent jujube tree in the yard.

It was jujube season again. But since Zhu Xiang hadn’t tended to the tree properly this year, the yield was less than usual.

Knock knock knock.

A heavy knock came on the wooden door. Cai Ze took a deep breath and placed his hand on the latch.

The door opened, revealing Lord Pingyang Zhao Bao’s anxious face.

“By the King of Zhao’s order, Zhu Xiang’s wife and the Qin hostage prince Zheng are to stay in the palace for a while!” Zhao Bao declared sternly.

A mocking smile crept onto Cai Ze’s ugly face. “Does Lord Pingyang have a written decree from the king?”

At Changping.

After the elderly, weak, and sick were released, the Zhao army no longer had to cremate fallen comrades every single day.

Zhu Xiang reorganized the Zhao troops’ living quarters. He cleared an area in the center of the camp and built a tall platform.

As Bai Qi escorted the King of Qin, disguised as a military advisor, around the camp, they stopped before the platform.

“What’s this for?” Bai Qi asked, puzzled.

Zhu Xiang replied, “The Zhao people often treat the harvest season as a new year celebration. It happens to be that time of year now. Once the potatoes are harvested, they’ll be leaving again, so I want to hold a harvest festival—let them celebrate a proper New Year before parting.”

The King of Qin’s face cracked with disbelief, his expression shifting rapidly—an impressive display of emotion.

Bai Qi voiced the king’s doubt: “They’re still prisoners of war—you want prisoners to celebrate the New Year?!”

Zhu Xiang asked in confusion, “Why not? A small portion of these Prisoners of war’s will eventually become citizens of Qin and comrades of Lord Wu’an. Surely Lord Wu’an isn’t so petty?”

Bai Qi: “……”

Even if they’re my comrades, Qin celebrates New Year in the tenth month. We’ve never thrown a festival in a military camp!

Seeing Bai Qi’s expression, Zhu Xiang suddenly understood. “Ah, right. You were busy cleaning up the battlefield earlier—so even the Qin soldiers didn’t get to celebrate New Year. How about we do it together? Once the potatoes are harvested, everyone can have a full meal!”

The King of Qin couldn’t hold back anymore. He stepped forward past Bai Qi and demanded, “What exactly are you trying to do?”

Zhu Xiang frowned. “It’s just a New Year celebration… what more is there to it? You can celebrate the new year anywhere.”

The King of Qin sized up Zhu Xiang, noticing that his confusion seemed completely genuine.

Could it be that this guy really had no ulterior motive—just honestly wanted the Zhao Prisoners of war’s to celebrate the New Year and cheer up?

If only they could reveal Zichu’s identity now—what a show that would make. The King of Qin was sorely tempted to drag Zichu over and ask him whether Zhu Xiang was out of his mind.

Bai Qi said, “They’re far from home. I doubt they’ll feel much like celebrating.”

Zhu Xiang shook his head. “It’s because they’re suffering and far from home that we should hold a celebration. A bit of joy and relaxation will help them face the future with more hope. Lord Wu’an once said, as long as there’s no mutiny in the camp, the Zhao Prisoners of war’s are under my control. What I’m doing doesn’t violate our agreement, does it?”

Bai Qi glanced at the King of Qin and said, “It doesn’t.”

The King of Qin began pacing around the platform. “How do you plan to celebrate?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Just… put on some performances?”

The King of Qin: “……”

When this man returns to Qin, should I summon a renowned physician to examine his head?

Bai Qi added, “Gathering Prisoners of war’s together may cause our soldiers to panic. Write out your celebration plans in a formal report. I’ll review it before you proceed.”

Zhu Xiang’s face fell instantly. He hadn’t brought much writing material with him. To draft a formal report, he’d have to chop wood, make bamboo slips, dry them over fire, and then write everything down.

Was this paperwork or forced labor?

“Yes…” he answered dejectedly. “I’ll go cut wood for the slips now.”

The King of Qin grabbed Zhu Xiang’s sleeve to stop him. “Wait. What are these pillars for?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Dragon and lion dances. They’ll leap and twirl on the pillars—it’s very exciting.”

The King of Qin asked again, “And that pile of firewood?”

Zhu Xiang: “A bonfire. People will dance around it.”

The king pointed to the squares marked on the ground. “What are these for?”

Zhu Xiang: “Seating areas. To keep things orderly during the performances.”

King Qin asked, “Then what about… the position of Lord Wu’an?”

Zhu Xiang pointed to a slightly lower platform nearby and said, “Here. It offers the clearest view and is quiet.”

Bai Qi began to feel a headache coming on.

Your Majesty… do you really want to attend the Zhao captives’ harvest festival?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!

But since the King of Qin said he wanted to go, Bai Qi had no choice but to rack his brains to arrange a proper escort and accompany the king to watch the festivities.

The King of Qin’s elder brother, King Wu of Qin, had died trying to lift a massive bronze cauldron. Even before that, previous kings in his line had suffered injuries from overindulging in hunting. The recklessness of the Qin royal family was a known fact—old King Qin was no exception.

Finding it amusing, the King approved Zhu Xiang’s request and insisted on personally observing how these surrendered Zhao soldiers celebrated their harvest.

The King of Qin smiled at Bai Qi and said, “Can prisoners of war really hold a festival? Aren’t you curious?”

Bai Qi asked, “Will the Qin soldiers also celebrate the New Year?”

The King waved his hand and said, “Give the entire army an extra month’s pay.”

Bai Qi immediately knelt down. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

The King added, “The surrendered troops gathering with nothing to do could cause trouble. Since Zhu Xiang has invited the Qin people to join, let the Qin soldiers participate in the festival as well.”

Bai Qi gave a wry smile. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

And so, the Zhao captives’ harvest festival welcomed a group of Qin soldiers—armed with weapons.

Zhu Xiang reassured the Zhao captives, telling them not to mind the Qin troops and to continue preparing for the harvest celebration.

Maybe it was because battlefield soil was especially fertile, or perhaps this year’s unusually warm winter helped, or maybe the irrigation from the Dan and Shao Rivers was particularly effective—whatever the reason, the potatoes bloomed over ten days earlier than they had when Zhu Xiang first planted them.

Modern potato farming uses machines, fertilizers, and pesticides to achieve high yields with less effort. But here, with none of that available and everyone dependent on nature, they had to manage everything with meticulous care.

Zhu Xiang led the surrendered Zhao soldiers in removing the potato flowers in the fields to prevent the plants from diverting nutrients into flowering and fruiting instead of developing tubers.

The plucked potato blossoms were used to decorate the high platform for the upcoming festival. Some crafty Zhao soldiers strung the small flowers into garlands with dried grass, creating floral curtains.

They fetched pretty stones from the river and colorful leaves from the mountains to build icons and symbols representing traditional Zhao deities.

Zhu Xiang also had them decorate a pile of stones with potato flowers, as a tribute to their comrades who had died on the battlefield of Changping.

As the harvest drew closer, the hope and joy on the faces of the Zhao captives grew stronger.

Even though they went hungry every day, after finishing farm work, they no longer headed straight back to their tents to sleep. Instead, they wandered around looking for things to decorate the festival grounds.

Qin soldiers reported to Bai Qi that the Zhao captives were even carving wooden sculptures and shaping animals out of dirt during their downtime. The area set for the harvest celebration was becoming more and more beautiful.

Looking at the hopeful eyes of the reporting Qin soldier, Bai Qi was speechless. A few months ago, you saw each other as mortal enemies, and now you want to celebrate the harvest and New Year together?!

King Qin curiously asked, “Where did the Zhao soldiers get so many materials to make decorations?”

The Qin soldier didn’t recognize the King and assumed he was just one of Lord Wu’an’s aides, so he respectfully replied, “We helped them!”

King Qin: “…”

His hand twitched—he suddenly felt like cutting down this overly enthusiastic Qin soldier.

Bai Qi said sternly, “You disobeyed military orders?!”

The Qin soldier quickly said, “No, no! Military orders didn’t forbid us from helping them collect nice leaves and stones!”

Bai Qi: “…”

Bai Qi: “Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” The Qin soldier turned and ran.

The King of Qin laughed. “After spending some time in the barracks, I’ve noticed… the soldiers and officers don’t seem to fear Lord Wu’an very much?”

Bai Qi replied, “Perhaps because I reward and punish fairly. As long as they haven’t violated military orders, fight bravely, and work hard in the fields, they may not need to fear me.”

The King stroked his beard and nodded. “That’s true. Very good. Lord Wu’an, it seems we misjudged things. Not only do the Zhao captives have the mood to hold a festival, but even the Qin soldiers appear to be looking forward to it.”

Bai Qi said, “Perhaps the Qin soldiers are also homesick.”

The King’s hand paused mid-stroke, and he sighed faintly. “If I wanted to seize the moment and crush the other six kingdoms in one push… would that be possible?”

Bai Qi replied, “It is not possible.”

The King asked, “Even with you—an undefeated general—leading the army?”

Bai Qi said, “I lead troops according to the enemy’s movements. I study the geography of the battlefield—its mountains and rivers. My victories come from calculating advantages and terrain, from the laws of nature. I do not command like a god, nor am I truly invincible.”

The King frowned. “If I order you to fight a battle you judge unwinnable, would you refuse?”

Bai Qi knelt and pressed his forehead to the ground. “If I believe the Qin army cannot win, then forcing an attack would mean throwing away the lives of our soldiers, wasting Qin’s food, weapons, and national strength. Disobeying orders is a capital offense, but knowingly harming Qin just to protect myself—that would be disloyalty. Your Majesty, I will never be disloyal to you or to Qin.”

The King’s brows relaxed. “So, to remain loyal to me and to Qin, you would rather disobey my orders?”

Bai Qi pressed his forehead even harder to the ground. “Yes!”

The King sighed again.

After a while—after Bai Qi’s tears had soaked into the ground—the King helped him up.

“Lord Wu’an, do not worry. I know you are loyal to me and to Qin. I won’t put you in a difficult position. If even you think the battle cannot be won, then whoever else I send to command will surely fail as well. No matter how foolish I am, I wouldn’t fight a war we are certain to lose.”

Choked with emotion, Bai Qi said, “Thank you, Your Majesty! Your trust in me—I could give my life a thousand times and still not repay it!”

The King chuckled softly. “You’d rather have your entire clan executed than harm me or the state of Qin. That’s already more loyal than giving your life a thousand times.”

He carefully wiped the tears and dust from Bai Qi’s face with his own sleeve and said, “You needn’t worry about Chanceller Fen, I will persuade him. Once you return to Qin, you can recuperate properly at Zhu Xiang’s home. Though Zhu Xiang is a relative through the maternal line, he is also the maternal kin of my grandson and great-grandson. He has no children of his own, so in Qin, he will surely enjoy a life of wealth and honor until his death, and be posthumously venerated.”

Bai Qi bowed deeply, nearly forming a right angle with his body. “Thank you, Your Majesty! I will certainly protect Lord Zhu Xiang with all my might!”

The King of Qin smiled again and helped Bai Qi up. “You’d best not call him ‘Lord Zhu Xiang’ anymore. That child is timid—if you address him that way, you might scare him half to death. Though… he’s also surprisingly brave…”

The King of Qin recalled how Zhu Xiang would bounce around in front of him like a monkey offered in tribute from Bashu, and his smile deepened.

Bai Qi said, “Zhu Xiang is sincere and treats his family very well. Perhaps because he sees himself as kin to Your Majesty, he regards you as an elder. I’ve heard that Lin Xiangru and Lian Po also treat Zhu Xiang as a nephew or son. Zhu Xiang may already be used to dealing with elders in this way.”

The King of Qin let out a helpless laugh. “He acts like that even in front of Lin Xiangru? With Lin Xiangru’s temperament, how can he tolerate it?”

Bai Qi replied, “According to Xu Ming and Xiang He, Lin Xiangru keeps a ruler tucked in his sleeve and often knocks Zhu Xiang on the head with it while talking.”

The King of Qin laughed heartily. Though he had laughed many times in the main tent, the oppressive and tense atmosphere was finally swept away.

Bai Qi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He had survived this deadly ordeal—for now.

Half a month later.

Zhu Xiang crouched on the ground and poked at the soil with a wooden stick.

“All right, we can start digging now. Be careful—there’s a whole big cluster underneath.” A genuine smile finally appeared on Zhu Xiang’s face.

The Zhao soldiers cheered, raised their hoes, and rushed into the fields to start digging up the potatoes.

Zhu Xiang walked to the field ridge, hands in his sleeves, and stood beside Bai Qi.

Bai Qi turned to look at him.

Zhu Xiang’s eyes curved in delight, revealing unnaturally white teeth for a commoner. On his thin cheeks, two small dimples appeared.

The King of Qin was also looking at Zhu Xiang.

He recalled how Zhu Xiang had written in his “Nephew-Rearing Diary” that his great-grandson Zheng’er, when he smiled, would curve his eyes and reveal his teeth but not his eyes—two dimples showing on his cheeks.

Zhu Xiang was always going on about “nephews take after their uncles.” Maybe he wasn’t just boasting.

Would Zheng’er grow up to look just like Zhu Xiang?

Once his great-grandson arrived in Qin, fed and cared for well, he’d surely be even stronger than Zhu Xiang was now.

Maybe a slightly plumper version of Zhu Xiang?

The old King of Qin rarely felt softhearted, and he rarely gave much thought to his vast number of children and grandchildren.

But today, for some reason, he missed his deceased crown prince a little.

He had personally nurtured the crown prince—though he had always guarded against him gaining too much power, he had still been quite satisfied with him. Much more so than with Prince Anguo.

The old King of Qin had lived a very long life, and he was pleased with that. But human life has limits. No matter how long he lived, he would never see the day when his great-grandson reached adulthood, nor would he know if the Qin Kingdom would remain powerful—or even stronger—when that generation of kings ascended the throne.

Looking at Prince Anguo, the King of Qin always felt that the moment he closed his eyes for good, Anguo would ruin the legacy of his ancestors.

That was why he was anxious, hoping to do more while he still lived—to conquer more states, seize more land.

Of course, he wasn’t deluded—he knew he couldn’t unify the six states in his lifetime.

He just wanted to do a little more. Just a little more. He didn’t trust Prince Anguo. He didn’t trust any of his descendants.

“Zhu Xiang, is it true that Zheng’er could already speak before his first birthday, and now he’s read through all the classics? Even that old curmudgeon Xun Kuang praised Zheng’er as exceptionally clever?” the King of Qin suddenly asked.

Zhu Xiang, still grinning as he watched the Zhao soldiers enthusiastically digging up potatoes, blinked and responded, “Of course! When King Qin sees Zheng’er, he can test him himself. Zheng’er’s knowledge and insight might already surpass that of most teenage boys!”

When it came to Zheng’er, Zhu Xiang was endlessly talkative. He was dead serious about bragging about his future emperor nephew!

“King Qin, think about it. Zheng’er’s first teacher is Xunzi—the Xunzi who served three terms as dean of the Jixia Academy. Who in the world has deeper learning than Xunzi?”

“Lord Lin teaches him the Book of Songs, and Lord Lian teaches him The Art of War. Who else in the world can rival Lord Lin in the Songs, or Lord Lian in The Art of War… Oh, come on, Lord Wu’an, don’t glare at me. I know you’re amazing. No need to compete—comparison only breeds resentment.”

“And also, Xiang He makes toys for Zheng’er, Xu Ming takes him gleaning for wheat, even the heads of the Mohist and Agrarian schools adore him. Apart from King Qin, there’s probably no one else in the world who could win the shared affection of the leaders of Confucianism, Mohism, and Agrarianism!”

Zhu Xiang was smug.

And I haven’t even mentioned yet that the future Prime Minister of Qin, Cai Ze, plays wooden sword with Zheng’er every single day!

My nephew Zheng’er is truly worthy of being the future Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the one destined to rule this era. Just look at the quality of his early education and playmates!

Oh, right—Zheng’er also calls Li Mu ‘teacher.’ Li Mu even gave him a sword he once used! Heh heh.

The King of Qin watched Zhu Xiang gesticulating animatedly as he bragged about Zheng’er and couldn’t help stroking his beard.

If it were anyone else boasting about some Qin prince, he’d think they were trying to meddle in the matter of succession.

But Zhu Xiang…

This fool was like those ministers who finally had a firstborn son late in life—so happy they forgot all about status and decorum.

Zhu Xiang didn’t seem to care much for decorum to begin with. The King of Qin thought deeply. Once again, he understood what Zichu meant when he said Zhu Xiang lacked the “wisdom of a king’s aide.”

“Lord Zhu Xiang! Lord Zhu Xiang! So many potatoes! So many potatoes!” The Zhao people were so overjoyed, they forgot to be afraid of Bai Qi.

Holding up a giant cluster of potatoes, they jumped around as if performing some bizarre harvest dance, excitedly reporting the news to Zhu Xiang.

Zhu Xiang stopped bragging about his nephew and laughed. “Dig them all out! Once we’ve harvested everything, it’s time for a harvest festival!”

The Zhao people, still waving their potatoes, jumped up and down. “Got it!”

Only now did the King of Qin turn his attention to the potatoes.

When he saw the long, connected clusters of tubers the Zhao people were unearthing, his breath caught. “These… these are all potatoes? All edible?!”

Zhu Xiang nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!”

Bai Qi clenched his fist. He glanced at the King of Qin, and when the king gave him a slight nod, Bai Qi rolled up his sleeves, took a hoe from a bodyguard, and personally began to dig up a potato plant.

He worked with great care, gently loosening the soil. Bit by bit, the tubers hidden beneath were revealed.

His personal guards helped too, using tree branches to dig through the soil.

After digging for a long time without reaching the bottom, Bai Qi threw away his hoe and squatted down to dig with his hands.

His guards also began digging with their hands, feeling for each potato one by one. Using bare hands meant they didn’t have to worry about damaging the potatoes. Soon, they had unearthed a small pile.

One of the guards picked up a potato, incredulous. “General, these… these are really all potatoes? They’re all edible?!”

Bai Qi didn’t speak. Even he couldn’t believe it.

Judging by the size of the potato plants, Bai Qi hadn’t expected them to yield much. Maybe three or four potatoes under a single plant would already be impressive.

Now, seeing this entire cluster of potatoes, Bai Qi was almost speechless.

He thought, Did Zhu Xiang grow potatoes in Zhao? Does the King of Zhao know about their yield? Lin Xiangru and Lian Po surely do.

The King of Zhao had treated Zhu Xiang with such disdain, pushing him to trade his life in exchange for the surrendered soldiers that Zhao had abandoned. Was this Heaven’s way of punishing Zhao?

“General, could we… could we not let Lord Zhu Xiang return to Zhao?” one guard asked cautiously. “Don’t let Lord Zhu Xiang go back. He can’t go back to Zhao!”

Bai Qi looked up. All the guards around him had tears on their faces. They wiped their tears with dirt-covered hands, smearing mud all over their faces, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Some still couldn’t believe it, crying as they kept asking their general if these really were all potatoes, really all edible. As if only the words of the undefeated Lord Wu’an could make them believe this reality.

Bai Qi noticed a shadow cast on the ground. He looked up and saw Zhu Xiang—and the solemn-faced King of Qin.

Bai Qi’s expression, usually somewhere between resolute and cold, now looked utterly lost.  “Zhu Xiang, these are really all potatoes? They’re all edible?” His voice was hoarse.

Zhu Xiang crouched down too. He rubbed the dirt off a potato with his hand and examined it closely. “Yes, they’re all potatoes, and they’re all edible. The yield of potatoes is at least three times that of wheat. This land hasn’t grown any crops in a long time, and… well, there are also corpses serving as fertilizer, so this harvest might be five to six times greater than normal.”

The King of Qin had been frowning ever since Bai Qi began digging and hadn’t relaxed since. “If all the land in Qin were used to grow potatoes…”

Zhu Xiang chuckled. “Then Qin would soon perish.”

The King of Qin asked urgently, “Why do you say that?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Do you still remember what I said at the beginning? Potatoes deplete the soil heavily, and the seeds can degrade. There was once a small overseas nation that planted potatoes on all its land to feed a growing population. One year, a potato disease started in one field and quickly spread across the country. That year, all their potatoes failed.”

Zhu Xiang looked up, his expression a mix of indifference and sorrow. “Everything has its pros and cons. Nature is harsh like that. It never provides a perfect crop that can feed people without any downside. That’s why it’s necessary to constantly cultivate better strains, to keep studying the art of farming.”

The King of Qin looked down at Zhu Xiang from above. No perfect crop? The millet and yellow rice they ate now weren’t good enough, nor the wheat widely grown in the Central Plains, nor the rice from the lands of Chu and Yue, and now not even Zhu Xiang’s potatoes?

The King of Qin asked, “Then how do you cultivate better strains, study this… farming knowledge?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Just as close kin marrying often produces offspring with defects, breeding plants with the same traits—the same appearance—can result in degraded seeds. So we need people constantly searching for new plants and crossbreeding them with the original ones. This way, even if farmers save their own seeds, they can still find quality ones.”

Zhu Xiang went on to explain the basic agricultural principles of how to find seeds in the wild, how to cross-pollinate crops with the same ancestry but different appearances, how to use intercropping and crop rotation to maintain soil fertility, reduce pests and diseases, and guard against total crop failure—all in the simplest, clearest terms.

Perhaps the King of Qin still didn’t fully understand, but he at least realized that farming held deep knowledge—it wasn’t a matter of just finding one high-yield crop and resting easy forever.

The King of Qin might not know farming, but he knew how to govern. It was like relying on just one trusted minister—if that minister betrayed him, he’d be left helpless. The court needed checks and balances among its officials. The same went for the land—it needed crop diversity, so that if one crop failed, there’d still be food to harvest.

“And as national grain reserves, crops with husks and low moisture content are more suitable. If grains like millet, wheat, and rice are dried and stored properly, they can last for several years, even up to a decade, without spoiling.” Zhu Xiang stood up and handed the cleaned potato to the King of Qin.

The King took the potato and examined it closely.

“Potatoes can be eaten without removing a husk. Their texture is smooth, and they’re delicious. But precisely because of that, they’re hard to store,” Zhu Xiang added silently—at least, hard to store in this era. “Potatoes have high moisture content and spoil easily. If temperatures are too high, they turn green and sprout. Once that happens, they become toxic. You’ve probably heard that potatoes can be poisonous.”

The King of Qin nodded. “I have heard of it. Zhu Xiang, if you hadn’t told me, and Qin ended up planting potatoes everywhere, wouldn’t Zhao have defeated us without a single battle?”

Zhu Xiang lowered his voice. “And then what? Let this war-torn world continue for hundreds or thousands more years? Let the common people keep dying in battle for their rulers? My lord, only when the world is united can the people finally breathe easy.”

The King of Qin put down the potato and looked deeply at Zhu Xiang. “You value the people more than the ruler.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Because I am the people.”

The King replied, “You’re related to the Qin royal family. You’re no longer a commoner.”

Zhu Xiang smiled. “The future won’t change my origins, won’t change my roots. I am a commoner.”

The King of Qin continued to look at Zhu Xiang. No matter how he stared, Zhu Xiang showed no fear. He didn’t even lower his head once.

If this were in Xianyang, and the King of Qin appeared in full royal regalia, such behavior would already be punishable by death. Whether a commoner or a court official, all should bow before their king. Otherwise, their heads had no right to stay on their necks.

“Very well,” said the King of Qin calmly. “Now that your potatoes have grown, I will allow you to take any soldiers who wish to return to Zhao. Those willing to stay and become people of Qin, I will grant them land equal to that of native Qin citizens.”

Zhu Xiang whispered, “So stingy? Can’t we share a bit of the credit for killing Zhao Kuo?”

King of Qin: “……”

He raised a potato and smacked it against Zhu Xiang’s hard-headed skull. “Fine! I’ll give them a month’s rations!”

Zhu Xiang quickly bowed with a beaming smile. “Thank you, my lord, you’re a great man! I’ll have them build a shrine in your honor!”

The King of Qin retracted his oppressive aura and said helplessly, “You…”

Zhu Xiang giggled foolishly, looking like a total dunce.

Bai Qi wiped his hands on his robe and asked, “Are you really going back to Zhao?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Yes, I must. Even though Lord Lin and Lord Lian will surely protect my Xue and Zheng’er, if I don’t return, the King of Zhao won’t let it go. I have to go back.”

Bai Qi sighed.

The King of Qin said, “The Zhao soldiers have gone mad with joy! There’s even someone dancing while taking off his clothes! Go stop them!”

Zhu Xiang placed his hand over his brow and peered into the distance. “My lord, that person isn’t from Zhao—he’s your own General Sima Jin.”

King of Qin: “…… Bai Qi!”

Bai Qi let his robe fall from his belt and charged furiously toward Sima Jin.

His head buzzed with rage!

Even if others didn’t know the King was here, Sima Jin did! He clearly knew his lord was watching—what the hell was he doing!?

In a frenzy of joy, Sima Jin was twirling and tossing his robes in the air, only to be met with Bai Qi’s high kick straight to the gut. He crashed to the ground, face-first.

Wang He: “……”

Whew. Lucky he hadn’t lost his mind from excitement.

“What are you doing?!” Bai Qi shouted.

Sima Jin squirmed up from the ground, covered in dirt, and obediently began putting his clothes back on.

Wang He said, “General, he was just a little too happy…”

Bai Qi shot a glance toward the King of Qin.

The King stood with his hands behind his back, coldly smirking at the scene.

Wang He: “……”

He raised his foot and gave Sima Jin another kick, sending him flying back into the fields.

Sima Jin: “……” Fine. I’ll just stay lying here.

He had been so swept up in the joy that he actually forgot the King was right there watching.

Zhu Xiang laughed. “My lord, the Qin generals have rather amusing personalities.”

King of Qin: “……”

He really wanted to walk over and personally kick Sima Jin down again.

Such a disgrace!

After that brief interlude, the Zhao soldiers—soon joined by Qin troops who couldn’t resist—dug up all the potatoes, piling them into several small mountains.

The bonfires hadn’t even been lit yet, the celebration hadn’t officially started, but the Zhao captives were already dancing in circles around the potato mounds.

They sang and danced as if they weren’t prisoners of war anymore, but had returned home, rejoicing in the harvest from their own fields.

Zhu Xiang stood with his hands behind his back, squinting with joy as he watched them dance.

The King of Qin also lowered his hands. Watching the Zhao soldiers laugh and dance, he felt a strange, unfamiliar emotion rise in his heart.

Perhaps joy really was contagious—he, a man who normally wouldn’t spare a glance at commoners, was beginning to feel a sliver of happiness himself as he watched them laugh.

“It’s really wonderful,” Xu Ming said softly, coming over at some point. He bowed deeply to Zhu Xiang. “Thank you, Lord Zhu Xiang, for securing a famine-saving crop for the common people. May there never be famine again.”

Zhu Xiang shook his head. “It’s just one famine relief crop—still not enough. Whether famine returns depends on the heavens, the land… and the rulers.”

He turned and bowed deeply to the old King of Qin. “For all the commoners in this world, I ask you, my lord, to spare them a bit more care.”

The King of Qin straightened up and looked down at Zhu Xiang. He repeated what Bai Qi had asked earlier: “Are you truly returning to Zhao? My offer still stands—if you return to Qin with me, I’ll grant you noble title and land. I can also ensure the safety of your wife and Zheng’er.”

Zhu Xiang smiled. “Perhaps you truly can protect Xue and Zheng’er. But even the smallest chance of danger is unacceptable to me. Besides, if I don’t return—even if Xue and Zheng’er are saved—what will become of Lord Lian and Lord Lin, who risked everything to help them? My parents died early. Lord Lin is like a father to me. I have to go back.”

The King of Qin sighed deeply. “As you wish.”

He stopped looking at Zhu Xiang and turned his gaze to the mountains of potatoes and the dancing Zhao prisoners around them.

Some Qin soldiers couldn’t hold back anymore either—their bodies swayed with the rhythm, and their mouths opened in toothy yellow smiles.

The King of Qin’s tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed.

On his face appeared a smile—perhaps not particularly warm, certainly not as benevolent as usual—but genuine.

Zhu Xiang thought, the King’s mood must be good now. This might be the most sincere smile he’s shown since arriving in Changping.

Even someone as lofty as the King of Qin could be moved by the unrestrained joy of the common people—right?

Zhu Xiang hoped so.

Xiang He stood not far away. When Xu Ming came over, he hadn’t joined.

He simply watched Zhu Xiang quietly—this youth who had only recently come of age.

During these days in Changping, he had learned from Bai Qi what Zhu Xiang had said and done before the King of Qin. He realized that Zhu Xiang’s plans were never just about planting potatoes before the Qin.

Maybe…

Xiang He didn’t dare think too deeply, but his thoughts inevitably drifted in that direction.

If the King of Zhao wanted to kill Zhu Xiang—and the King of Qin also wanted him dead—could the disciples of Mohism save him?

Probably not. Even if all Mohists laid down their lives, they couldn’t fight an entire state.

So Xiang He had the Great Master’s command sent back to Qin, and resolved to personally accompany Zhu Xiang on his return to Zhao.

“Zhu Xiang, are you holding the celebration today?” Xiang He stepped forward.

Zhu Xiang nodded with a smile. “Yes. They’re all eager to go home. We’ll celebrate tonight, feast well, and head off tomorrow! I’ll finally get to go home. I wonder if Zheng’er’s gotten chubbier again.”

Xu Ming said, “Lord Zhu Xiang, please don’t sing that ‘Little Chubby Bump, dun dun dun’ song in front of Zheng’er again. He cried last time and wouldn’t eat his late-night snack.”

Xiang He added, “Let Lady Xue hit Lord Zhu Xiang with a broom one more time, and he won’t tease Zheng’er again.”

“Oh? That really happened? Tell me more!” The King of Qin perked up his ears.

Zhu Xiang laughed dryly. “Hahaha…”