HCT – Chapter 30 Clay Pot Braised Pork

The bonfire for the celebration had been lit. The stove for cooking potatoes was also burning.

To thank the King of Qin for keeping his promise, Zhu Xiang decided to showcase his true culinary skills. Another batch of supplies designated for the King of Qin had arrived from Xianyang. Among them were live cattle, sheep, and over a dozen pigs raised on grain feed.

Zhu Xiang joked, “They’re only sending these things now? The King of Qin is already about to return to Xianyang.”

The King of Qin gave Zhu Xiang a sideways glance and replied, “These were sent by Zheng’er’s father. You have a point — when I return, I’ll demote him.”

Zhu Xiang laughed happily, “Great! Serves that scumbag dad and mom of Zheng’er right!”

Bai Qi silently found an excuse to leave.

One of them really thought of himself as the King of Qin’s junior; the other loved acting like an elder. Just watching them gave Bai Qi a stomachache.

Once again, he confirmed that he was only fit for fighting on the battlefield. Unfortunately, his health was deteriorating day by day — he likely wouldn’t be able to go to war again.

Zhu Xiang grabbed Bai Qi’s sleeve and said, “Don’t go, Lord Wu’an! I’m about to show off my skills — if you miss this, you won’t get another chance to witness the top chef of this era dazzling everyone!”

Bai Qi: “…”

Did Zhu Xiang even realize how ridiculous he sounded? If he really was the top chef of this era, he’d better watch out or His Majesty might just “kidnap” him back to the palace to cook full-time.

The King of Qin clasped his hands behind his back and said, “I want to see just how impressive you are.”

Although Zhu Xiang had already made tofu and tofu pudding — dishes that greatly amazed the King of Qin — and even a lazy but decent tofu with soybean paste dish, the King still didn’t believe that someone like Zhu Xiang, a commoner, could truly understand fine cuisine.

Back in the palace, the King of Qin enjoyed extravagance. One of his favorite dishes was made from lamb, cooked with sugarcane juice, osmanthus, crushed dried mushrooms, fish roe, and fresh fish sauce — sweet, savory, and rich in umami.

Zhu Xiang might have a few clever tricks in the kitchen, but the King didn’t believe he could compare with the royal chefs.

Zhu Xiang chuckled, “Just don’t try to keep me here in Handan after tasting my food!”

The King of Qin snorted and began pacing behind Zhu Xiang, completely disregarding the etiquette of “a gentleman stays away from the kitchen.” After all, he didn’t consider himself a gentleman anyway.

Bai Qi sighed and offered to help Zhu Xiang slaughter the pig.

If he could kill people, he could certainly kill a pig. Having come from humble origins, he used to eat pork from pigs raised near the latrine. These grain-fed pigs were a real treat. Now that he was back in his manor, he could eat them anytime, but he still found them tempting.

The pigs that Zichu had sent were not only young but also castrated and grain-fed — not a hint of gamey or musky odor.

As Zhu Xiang butchered the pig, he mused to himself: The Qin people really know how to raise pigs — they’re just like me!

Zichu hadn’t only sent livestock; he also included rare seasonings like scallions, fresh ginger, Sichuan peppercorns, and garlic chives.

Although large garlic only came to China after the Silk Road opened during the Han dynasty, garlic chives had existed long before. Zhu Xiang mashed some garlic chives into a paste. Half he fried in pork fat until crispy, then poured it over the remaining raw paste to create a golden-silver garlic oil.

He then fried scallions, ginger, and Sichuan peppercorns in pork fat until golden, removed the solids, and ended up with a fragrant seasoning oil. Only then did he start cooking.

There were no iron pots here, so he coated the inside of a clay pot with the seasoning oil. He layered in scallion leaves, followed by thick slices of pork belly, then slices of potato, then dried mushrooms, then more pork belly — repeating the layers until the clay pot was nearly full.

He drizzled the golden-silver garlic oil over everything. Right under the twitching eyes of the King of Qin, he even took the King’s prized wine and poured it into the clay pot. Then he sealed the pot, brought it to a boil over high heat, and simmered it over low heat.

The King of Qin clutched his heart over the loss of his wine and muttered, “That’s it? That simple?”

Zhu Xiang said mysteriously, “Fresh ingredients only need the simplest cooking methods to bring out their ultimate flavor… ah, I forgot to add salt!”

He hurriedly opened the clay pot and sprinkled in some salt.

The King of Qin: “…”

He looked at Bai Qi. “Do you think he really knows how to cook?”

Bai Qi replied, “It’ll definitely be edible.”

The King of Qin rolled his eyes. No kidding!

After stewing the meat in the clay pot, Zhu Xiang handed the fire-watching duty to someone else and went off to oversee the preparations for the upcoming celebration.

The King of Qin trailed behind him like a wandering chicken, hands behind his back, aimlessly following Zhu Xiang around. Bai Qi, exasperated, had no choice but to follow as a guard.

“Raise the straw curtain a bit higher. Yes, like that. Lower it after each performance.”

“Make sure the instruments are in tune—don’t touch my erhu!”

“Don’t be nervous. Deep breaths, deep breaths. It’s not a life-or-death situation. Lord Wu’an isn’t going to charge the stage and beat you up just because you sing off-key.”

Lord Wu’an, Bai Qi: “?”

The King of Qin burst out laughing and sided with Zhu Xiang. Bai Qi endured silently.

Having soothed the surrendered Zhao soldiers, Zhu Xiang noticed some Qin soldiers peeking around curiously and couldn’t help but meddle.

“You guys want to join too? Did Lord Wu’an approve?” Zhu Xiang asked, puzzled.

The King of Qin replied stiffly, “The general has already agreed.”

Bai Qi: “Mm…” His Majesty probably agreed on his behalf without telling him.

“Alright then. What can you do? Sing, dance, beat drums—hey, why’d you hit me?” Zhu Xiang rubbed his head and looked questioningly at the old King of Qin.

The Qin soldiers said excitedly, “We can! All Qin people know how to beat drums!”

The old King of Qin ground his teeth internally but couldn’t show it. He muttered to Bai Qi, “Find me a Qin soldier who can play the se.”

Bai Qi thought for a long time before realizing the King was referring to the banquet at Mianchi, where His Majesty had tried to humiliate the King of Zhao by making him play the se, only for Lin Xiangru to threaten him with death and force him to beat a drum in public instead.

Bai Qi sighed helplessly. After all these years, Your Majesty, who would remember that if you didn’t bring it up yourself?

Zhu Xiang, rubbing his head, also recalled the incident at Mianchi. He whispered, “King of Qin, that was years ago. Let it go already. Besides, you didn’t even suffer any loss.”

The King of Qin gave Zhu Xiang another hard thump.

Zhu Xiang grimaced. The King may be old, but his strength was still impressive.

The Qin soldiers wanted to join the celebration, and the surrendered Zhao soldiers had no objections.

Aside from numbness, many who had taken part in the killings or no longer had close family had already decided to stay in Changping or Shangdang and become Qin citizens. As a result, they instinctively discouraged others from resenting the Qin soldiers.

Humans naturally seek benefit and avoid harm. Such petty motives are neither noble nor pretty—some even border on the shameful.

The King of Qin asked Zhu Xiang whether he was disappointed in the Zhao people.

Zhu Xiang didn’t understand why he’d ask that. “Survival is a basic instinct. As long as it doesn’t harm others, nothing people do to stay alive should be considered shameful.”

Commoners eating barley porridge and dry heaving as they ate—was that shameful?

Commoners with few clothes, working the fields naked in warm weather to preserve their garments—was that shameful?

Commoners too terrified to even bow before nobles, forced to press their faces into the dirty mud so that their entire face was smeared—was that shameful?

“When the granaries are full, people know propriety; when they are well-fed and clothed, they understand honor and shame. Only saints can talk about morals and etiquette while starving. Most people are just ordinary folk.” Zhu Xiang bowed. “I ask that the King of Qin not call the survival of the common people ugly.”

The King of Qin stared at him for a long moment before pinching Zhu Xiang’s cheek. “I was only joking. You really are Xunzi’s disciple.”

Zhu Xiang bared his teeth in pain. “Xunzi scolds me all the time. Maybe I should go join the Mohists, Agrarians, Legalists, or Strategists instead.”

The King of Qin released him, laughing heartily.

Zhu Xiang rubbed his face, confused about what the King found so funny.

Didn’t he just talk back to royalty? And the King still laughed? Could it be… that the great villain from the textbooks was actually a good person?

Zhu Xiang glanced at the system’s favorability list, his expression cold. “Old King Qin still hasn’t made it onto my favorites list today.”

Bai Qi was nearly immune to this kind of comment by now. No longer did he feel flustered or break out in a cold sweat. Instead, he gave Zhu Xiang a cold yet pitying look. Zhu Xiang thought he was about to die, and now dared to say and do anything.

Today, Vice General Wang He and Sima Jin had also arrived at the celebration venue—where all the surrendered Zhao soldiers were gathered—to help maintain order. Over a hundred thousand people were present, spread across several celebration stands. Just the sight of it made Wang He and Sima Jin’s scalps tingle.

They couldn’t believe their lord and the general had actually approved this. It was far too dangerous! Following behind Bai Qi, they had also overheard the “private” verbal sparring between King Qin and Zhu Xiang.

These two battle-hardened veterans—who wouldn’t even blink when swords were coming at them—were now sweating so profusely that the backs of their robes were soaked.

This long-lived King Qin, the longer he sat on the throne, the deeper the awe he commanded from his ministers. Just one displeased glance from him, and Wang He or Sima Jin would immediately kneel and beg forgiveness—even without knowing what they had done wrong.

Zhu Xiang was truly bold to dare talk back to the king!

“G-General…” Sima Jin leaned over and whispered, “Zhu Xiang is just too…”

Bai Qi said, “Zhu Xiang believes that returning to Handan means certain death. That’s why he’s so fearless.”

Sima Jin: “…” He understood, and yet couldn’t entirely sympathize. Even if he were on the brink of death, he still wouldn’t dare behave so wildly in front of the king.

Wang He frowned. “There’s really no way to let Zhu Xiang stay?”

Bai Qi said, “His wife is in Handan, his nephew, and Lin Xiangru—whom he sees as a father. He wants to exchange himself to bring them back.”

Sima Jin and Wang He recalled how Zhu Xiang had just argued with the king and couldn’t help letting out a long sigh together.

Once the venue was set up, the clay pot meat was nearly done stewing. Zhu Xiang mischievously set up a “main platform,” piling it with delicacies so King Qin and Bai Qi could eat while they watched the proceedings.

Aside from the clay pot meat, the other dishes were cooked by military chefs. Whether they were delicious was debatable, but the portions were certainly generous.

Zhu Xiang lifted the lid of the clay pot, and a unique, indescribably fragrant aroma wafted out. King Qin’s throat moved involuntarily. “You really do have some skill,” King Qin praised.

Zhu Xiang plated food for the king, leaving out the pork and mushrooms in favor of potato slices.  King Qin frowned, showing a look of disdain.

Bai Qi: “…Zhu Xiang!”

Zhu Xiang said, “I’m not playing around. The flavors of dried mushrooms, pork, and spices have all infused into the potatoes. The potatoes are actually the best part. Would you like to try some, Your Majesty?”

King Qin picked up his chopsticks and tried to grab a potato slice, but they were so tender from stewing that they fell apart before he could lift them.

Zhu Xiang quickly offered a spoon. King Qin gave Zhu Xiang a side glance, then, with his help, scooped up the nearly-melted potatoes and brought them to his mouth.

His eyes widened instantly. Saliva surged, and even his breathing became a little rapid. Zhu Xiang grinned smugly.

He hadn’t been exaggerating. Although it was common in the Warring States period to stew meat in clay pots, adding potatoes to the dish was the finishing touch. Every time he made braised beef at home, the melt-in-your-mouth potatoes were always snatched up first, leaving the meat for last.

But only people who didn’t lack meat would think potatoes were the best part. And King Qin happened to be just such a person.

He praised, “The palace chefs usually add millet strips to stews. These potatoes taste even better.”

The millet strips King Qin referred to were made by grinding millet into a paste and forming noodle-like strands—similar in appearance and cooking method to modern noodles.

Zhu Xiang said, “The technique is similar. But I also used lard rendered from the pork for seasoning—that’s another key element. I’ve left a thick cookbook for Zheng’er. Once he returns to Qin, you can have him give it to the palace chefs. Then you’ll be able to enjoy new and interesting dishes every day.”

King Qin chuckled and shook his head. “You really don’t miss a single opportunity to lobby me to bring Zheng’er back. Fine, I understand.”

Zhu Xiang clasped his hands together with a smile. “Thank you, King of Qin. You’re a very good person.”

Seeing Zhu Xiang start babbling nonsense again, the King of Qin gave him another hard knock on the head. Then he pulled the whole clay pot in front of himself and served Bai Qi a few pieces of meat, some dried mushrooms, and a small spoonful of potatoes. Sima Jin and Wang He only got meat and mushrooms.

Zhu Xiang really wanted to say, That’s plenty, no need to be so stingy, King of Qin. But Bai Qi stomped on his foot under the table as a warning, and Zhu Xiang obediently shut up.

As the King of Qin chewed on his meat, he asked again about the table and chairs. He was getting old, and kneeling for long periods made his legs ache. These tables and chairs were just right for him.

When he heard they were called “Hu chairs and Hu stools,” he frowned and said, “Why have I never seen these among the Hu people? From now on, they’re Qin chairs and Qin stools!”

Zhu Xiang: “…Yes, sir.”

If he pointed out that based on where and when they appeared, they should technically be called Zhao chairs and Zhao stools, would the King of Qin have Lord Wu’an beat him up before sending him back to Handan? Better not dig his own grave.

As the King of Qin chomped away at meat and potatoes, grumbling that the mushrooms were unpleasant and dumping all of them into Bai Qi’s bowl, the ceremonial performances finally began.

Court music in every state depended on bronze chime bells. In the countryside, without such luxuries, people used flutes, iron bottles, clay pots, even rocks and sticks to strike against each other for rhythm.

Bai Qi really did manage to find a se. A Qin soldier somehow dug up a zheng. Add Zhu Xiang’s huqin, and they had a rough string ensemble.

When Zhu Xiang went on stage with his huqin, he didn’t expect Sima Jin to join in on the Qin zheng—and he even dragged Wang He along to beat the fou drum. Wang He looked utterly humiliated, but still actually went up.

Several remaining Zhao generals also brought drums, flutes, qin, and se to join the performance.

The King of Qin roared with laughter. Bai Qi looked like the blood had drained from his face. The Zhao and Qin soldiers were all dumbfounded—especially the Zhao soldiers. A few looked so terrified they almost wet their pants and had to be driven away in disgust.

Zhu Xiang also found the whole thing darkly hilarious, like a joke from the depths of hell.

He wondered what identity the Grand Historian would take this time—assuming he was still the Grand Historian. If he were, how would he record this scene? Would he write it with sarcasm or praise?

When Zhu Xiang stepped off the stage, he couldn’t help asking, “What were you two thinking?!”

Sima Jin replied cheerfully, “Just joining the fun!”

Wang He looked miserable. “The lord… the general wanted to see something fun.”

Zhu Xiang: “…” You mean the king, not the general, right? Poor Lord Wu’an—slandered without even saying a word.

The Zhao generals just shrugged, not bothering to explain. The Qin generals already performed—why shouldn’t we?

Back on the main platform, Zhu Xiang looked at the King of Qin pounding the table with laughter, and the utterly expressionless Bai Qi, and his mouth twitched.

Fine, this is exactly the kind of thing the King of Qin would do.

Old Qin men cared little for Central Plains etiquette, but they were strict about hierarchy. Still, the King of Qin was the top of the hierarchy. With a chaos-loving Sima Jin stirring things up, poor Wang He got dragged into it.

The generals had kicked off the celebration with their own performances, and the soldiers quickly followed.

Some performed sword dances (using wooden swords instead of real ones), others sang, played instruments, danced folk dances, or showcased local talents… With no rehearsal, the stage was a mess—off-key singing, people tripping over themselves, someone even smacking a teammate on the head with a sword. Zhu Xiang could only hold his forehead.

Tonight, the King of Qin had turned into a laughing monster. Every time someone made a fool of themselves, he laughed uncontrollably, like he was watching a comedy show.

The crowd below wasn’t much better. They hooted and jeered, pointing and swearing at the stage.

But the performers didn’t get upset. No matter how clumsy they were, they stubbornly finished their routines and even bowed dramatically for applause.

The King of Qin laughed so hard he nearly passed out. Zhu Xiang, out of respect for the elderly, kept patting his back to help him breathe.

The king took the warm water Bai Qi handed over and, still laughing, said, “Interesting, truly interesting! I never imagined it could be this entertaining!”

Bai Qi was speechless.

He hadn’t expected the prisoners of war to genuinely have fun—and even the Qin soldiers joined in.

Oh, even Sima Jin and Wang He got involved. Thankfully, His Majesty didn’t go so far as to drag him into it too.

Zhu Xiang looked out over the long celebration grounds set up along the riverbank.

Fires burned, and Qin and Zhao soldiers were already roasting potatoes, cheering or heckling the stage performers as they ate.

The firelight lit up the expressions on their faces. Their laughter, like the flames, sparkled brightly.

Zhu Xiang’s heart gradually calmed. The King of Qin and Bai Qi looked at Zhu Xiang, who had suddenly stopped moving. They saw a satisfied smile on his face, and his eyes—once lively—were now calm and still. Calm and still did not mean his heart was like dead water. It was simply like the highest virtue: being like water.

“Zhu Xiang, I will not come to see you off tomorrow. Do you have any last words for me?” the King of Qin asked.

Zhu Xiang came back to his senses, knelt, bowed his head, and saluted: “The Shangjun Shu says that to stabilize rule, one must keep the people ignorant, oppressed, weak, poor, and humiliated. But from what I observe of Qin’s laws, the tax is only about one-eleventh to one-twelfth, and commoners are given the chance to serve in the army and earn merit. It is not entirely as Shangjun Shu states.”

The King of Qin nodded slightly. “Continue.”

Zhu Xiang raised his head and said, “From what I observe of Qin’s governance, each generation of rulers adjusts the policies according to changing circumstances. Laws are not fixed; they adapt with the times. When the King of Qin unifies the world, he will need to educate the people of the six states to become Qin people. Keeping them ignorant, oppressed, weak, poor, and humiliated is not advisable. It will provoke their resistance and make them long for the days of the six states. I urge the King of Qin to lighten taxes and corvée, and to allow the people to recover and prosper.”

The old King of Qin chuckled lightly: “I’m afraid I won’t live to see that day.”

Zhu Xiang said, “I have already written down the difficulties Qin might face after unification, and possible solutions, and given the paper to Zheng’er.”

The old King of Qin sighed: “Alright, alright, I understand. I will immediately send for Zheng’er to come back to Qin.”

Zhu Xiang bowed his head again and said, “Thank you, King of Qin.”

The old King of Qin patted Zhu Xiang on the shoulder and said, “Stand up. Take care.”

Zhu Xiang stood up and smiled: “Yes. Please take care of your health as well, King of Qin.”

The ceremony ended.

At Lian Po’s fief. Ying Zheng sat in his aunt’s arms, flipping through the books left behind by his uncle. Xue’s health was poor; she couldn’t bear fatigue. When at home, though she kept a close eye on Ying Zheng, she trusted the old servants in the house, and with Cai Ze and Xunzi watching over, she did not stay with Ying Zheng all the time or hold him constantly.

But after arriving at Lian Po’s fief, Xue guarded Ying Zheng like her own eyes, always holding or leading him by the hand, afraid that if he left her sight, something might happen. Ying Zheng noticed his aunt’s anxiety, so he obediently cuddled next to her and gave her hugs from time to time to soothe her nervousness.

His uncle had said, no matter how sad they felt, if Zheng’er gave them a hug or rubbed against them and gave a kiss, their mood would instantly improve. Ying Zheng felt shy about rubbing and kissing his aunt but had no problem giving hugs.

Lian Po and Lin Xiangru were chatting in the front courtyard. After Lord Pingyang Zhao Bao was rebuked and sent away by Cai Ze, Lord Pingyuan Zhao Sheng came next but was personally turned away by Xunzi.

Perhaps not wanting to cause more trouble, the King of Zhao and Zhao’s royal family stopped demanding Ying Zheng and Xue. They were all waiting—for the day Zhu Xiang and the remaining Zhao army would return.

Lian Po and Lin Xiangru did not dare leave the Lian family estate in order to protect and care for Xue and Ying Zheng. They could only anxiously wait at home for news.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded. Both looked toward the direction of the footsteps, surprised: “Cai Ze, weren’t you waiting at Zhu Xiang’s home? Why are you here?”

Because of his ugly face, Cai Ze rarely made exaggerated expressions. Now he completely disregarded his image, grinning widely to show all his teeth: “Zhu Xiang is back!”

Lin Xiangru leaned on his cane and took a few steps forward: “Really? Why haven’t I received any news yet?”

Cai Ze smiled: “Zhu Xiang brought back nearly one hundred thousand Zhao soldiers. They were hardly mistreated by the Qin, so they marched very fast. Maybe the people Lian Gong and Lin Gong sent to gather news haven’t delivered it yet. Zhu Xiang is already home! I came to take Xue and Zheng’er back.”

Lian Po frowned: “I told the guards to go with Zhu Xiang to Changping. Why didn’t they deliver the news either?”

Lin Xiangru frowned as well: “Could it have been intercepted?”

Cai Ze was puzzled: “Zhu Xiang is already back in Handan. He has fulfilled the promises he made to the King of Zhao. How could there still be danger?”

Lian Po tugged at his beard: “It should… not be? Zhu Xiang is a great contributor to Zhao. How could the King of Zhao harm a loyal minister? He should value Zhu Xiang.”

Lin Xiangru said, “Since Zhu Xiang is home, first send Xue and Zheng’er back. We’ll follow as well, in case there’s trouble to stop.”

With Zhu Xiang back in Handan, Lian Po and Lin Xiangru no longer had any excuse to keep Xue and Ying Zheng in the fief. If they forcibly kept them or brought Zhu Xiang over, someone might accuse them of treason.

Lian Po nodded and softened his tone: “Xue and Zheng’er have waited too long.”

Lin Xiangru sighed: “Yes.”