HCT – Chapter 35 A Food Box Made of Snow

As long as it didn’t concern his friends or the state of Qin, Yu Xin was, for the most part, a capable and virtuous man.

Looking at King Zhao’s expression, he realized he was likely being used as a sword.

As a subject, he didn’t mind being wielded like a sword by his sovereign—but he wanted to be a sword that saw clearly.

Was Zhu Xiang truly a spy for Qin? Was his reputation genuine, or just empty fame? Had those who died for Zhu Xiang been deceived?

Yu Xin finally decided to let go of his prejudice and investigate the matter himself.

King Zhao was still sighing deeply, but Yu Xin quietly found an excuse to leave. He immediately set off by carriage to Lin Xiangru’s fief, beginning his search for clues from the place where Zhu Xiang had first made his name.

Zhu Xiang sat in the prison cell Zhao Bao had arranged and cleaned for him, beginning his life behind bars.

The cell had been thoroughly cleaned. It held seating and bedding padded with thick quilts, and everything needed for a fire—stove and charcoal—was provided.

But the cell was dark and damp. The high skylight in the wall was more a vent than a window, stuffed with dry straw to block the wind. The chamber pot sat in the narrow space, its stench unavoidable. The smoke from the burning charcoal had nowhere to go—though not enough to cause carbon monoxide poisoning, it was still choking.

Zhu Xiang was of common birth and had endured much hardship before; he could tolerate all this. What he found truly unbearable was the darkness.

In TV dramas, even when scenes were deliberately filtered to look gloomy, one could still see the entire cell clearly. But in reality, there was no electricity in ancient times, and with almost no source of natural light, the cell remained dim even in broad daylight—so dark one could barely see their own hand.

Zhao Bao had relocated all the other prisoners to keep them from disturbing Zhu Xiang or spoiling the air. He also ordered the guards to provide him with enough oil lamps and charcoal, so Zhu Xiang could barely cling to some faint light from the flickering flames.

But with no sunlight and nothing to occupy him, all he could do was curl up beside the dim flame. After just one day in the cell, Zhu Xiang’s mental state had already declined significantly.

Worried about carbon monoxide poisoning, Zhu Xiang would warm his blankets and clothes by the fire, then extinguish the flames and wrap himself tightly, staring blankly at the oil lamp.

He heard King Zhao was furious over the commotion he’d caused. To avoid further provoking the young monarch, Zhu Xiang’s elders and friends all stayed away from the prison, too afraid to visit him. They were instead rushing about, trying everything they could to secure his release.

Each day, the prison guards respectfully placed fine meals at the cell door, bowing their heads to the ground before departing.

Zhu Xiang tried to speak with them, but they wouldn’t dare respond for fear of punishment. He asked them not to bow, but they remained silent and kept bowing anyway.

Zhu Xiang could only sigh, wrapping himself tighter in his small quilt, playing memories in his mind to ward off the pain of the cold and the dark—his life in the modern world, the anime, novels, and films he’d seen, and the faces of those he cared for in this world.

Another day passed, and Zhu Xiang saw Xue and Zheng’er.

Xue carried a food box in one hand and, with difficulty, cradled Zheng’er in the other as they came to visit him.

The others couldn’t come, afraid of upsetting King Zhao. But Xue and Zheng’er were family—they were allowed.

“Let Zheng’er walk on his own. You’re tiring yourself out holding him,” Zhu Xiang said.

He had heard from the prison guard the day before that Xue and Zheng’er would be coming. He had used the hot water they provided to wash himself and his hair, carefully chosen a clean set of clothes, and waited for them with a smile.

Xue shook her head. “Holding Zheng’er gives me peace of mind.”

She set little Ying Zheng down on the ground. He immediately rushed to the prison bars, pressing himself against them, chubby little arms stretching as far as they could reach. “Uncle, Uncle… wuwu…”

“Uncle is fine,” Zhu Xiang said with a smile, gripping Ying Zheng’s hand. “I have a blanket, a brazier, and an oil lamp. Life in here isn’t too bad. Don’t be scared, Zheng’er—Uncle will be out very soon.”

Sniffling, Ying Zheng asked, “How soon is very soon?”

Zhu Xiang pretended to think for a moment, then said, “That depends on how efficient Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang are at investigating. But at most, maybe half a month?”

“Ah? Half a month? That’s at least ten more days.” Ying Zheng’s tears were threatening to fall again.

Zhu Xiang gently wiped them away and pinched his nephew’s soft cheek. “Ten days at most. Before then, you’ll have to protect your aunt. You’re such a smart boy—I know you can help Uncle protect her.”

Ying Zheng withdrew his hand and nodded vigorously. “Mm! Zheng’er will protect Aunt.”

He wrapped his arms around Xue’s leg and repeated, “Zheng’er will protect Aunt.”

Zhu Xiang asked, “Xue, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you refusing to talk to me?”

He pretended to pout, trying to coax a smile out of her.

Xue gently stroked Ying Zheng’s fuzzy-hatted head, then knelt down, opened the food box, and began laying out the dishes one by one.

There were hot coals at the bottom of the box, and the dishes still let off steam.

“My cooking can’t compare to yours—don’t be too disappointed,” she said softly.

“How could I ever be?” Zhu Xiang took the chopsticks and sat facing her across the bars, tasting each dish she had made and praising them with different compliments every time.

Even Ying Zheng was giggling now, but Xue still didn’t smile.

When Zhu Xiang had finished eating and Xue had tidied up the box, she remained quietly seated in front of him, saying nothing.

Zhu Xiang couldn’t smile anymore either.

He pleaded, “Xue… can you talk to me?”

She looked up and asked, “Then, my love, can you promise not to abandon Zheng’er and me for someone else?”

Zhu Xiang felt a sharp pain in his chest, guilt weighing on him like a heavy stone.

He didn’t know how to respond—but then Xue finally smiled.

With the same gentle expression as always, she said, “I’m sorry, my love. I shouldn’t have said ‘abandon.’ You didn’t abandon us—you made sure Zheng’er and I had a safe way out. You only gave up on yourself.”

“Aunt…” Ying Zheng lay on her lap and looked up at her.

Xue hugged him close. “You’ve always been talented and ambitious. I don’t know much, but I understand you were never going to be satisfied with just wealth and peace. You’re chasing something I don’t fully understand… but Master Xun says it’s a noble ideal.”

Holding Ying Zheng tightly, she went on, “In the past, you took care of everything, inside the home and out. I relied on you too much. Once you were gone, I was left completely at a loss.”

“Xue!” Zhu Xiang said urgently. “I really will be out soon. When I am—”

Xue shook her head, cutting him off. “That was the past. Now… I want to become someone you can rely on. So you don’t have to worry. If you stay in prison, I’ll raise Zheng’er and wait for your return. If… if you choose to sacrifice yourself like those heroes in stories, I’ll still raise Zheng’er, live until he has children and grandchildren, and then come to meet you.”

As she spoke, her voice began to tremble, and tears slid down her cheeks.

“When we meet again, I’ll tell you that I lived well, and Zheng’er lived well too. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Zhu Xiang reached through the bars to wipe her tears, but said nothing.

Ying Zheng stretched out his little hand, trying to help wipe his aunt’s tears too.

Through her tears, Xue smiled. “My love, I will do everything you hoped I would. So don’t worry about us. Do what you must. No matter what it is… I will support you.”

Zhu Xiang wanted to say that so many people were working to save him, that maybe everything would turn out fine after all.

But seeing the resolution in Xue’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“…Alright,” he finally said. “Take care. No matter what happens—we’ll meet again.”

Xue let go of Zheng and cupped Zhu Xiang’s hands in her own. She lowered her head and pressed her face against his hands, closing her eyes. “Mm.”

Ying Zheng stood up, his eyes fixed on his uncle and aunt without blinking.

After a moment, he spoke: “Uncle, if something happens to you, in the future I will wipe out their entire clan and sever their line.”

Zhu Xiang asked, “Zheng’er, the ‘they’ you’re referring to—is it the King of Zhao?”

Ying Zheng nodded solemnly, his little face serious.

Zhu Xiang burst out laughing. “Zheng’er, the King of Zhao is part of your own royal lineage. How can you wipe out his clan and sever his line? Alright, alright, don’t talk like that—it sounds too frightening. Every wrong has its source, every debt its debtor. Don’t implicate the innocent. Look at how well Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang treat me, aren’t they good to me?”

Ying Zheng’s serious expression crumpled. “Uncle!”

Zhu Xiang said, “Revenge is still revenge. When you become King of Qin in the future, have someone thoroughly study the art of papermaking, and write a book about how your uncle was persecuted by the King of Zhao. Spread it across the land, let everyone in the world spit on the King of Zhao. How about that? Doesn’t that feel more satisfying?”

Ying Zheng scrunched up his chubby little face, feeling like his uncle was tricking a child. “Really?”

Zhu Xiang nodded solemnly. “Really. A lot of people fear not death, but disgrace.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” Ying Zheng crossed his arms, his chubby face wrinkled up like a round, plump bun.

Xue wiped away her tears and couldn’t help laughing. “My dear, don’t teach Zheng’er the wrong things.”

“I’m not—I didn’t—I’m serious!” Zhu Xiang raised three fingers and swore to the heavens.

“Alright, Zheng’er, let’s go. Ignore your uncle.” Xue picked up the empty food container and scooped up Ying Zheng, who was still deep in thought with his arms crossed. “Dear, Lord Lin, Lord Lian, and Lord Xun are all doing well. But Lord Lin’s cough is getting worse. Come home soon and take a good look at him.”

Zhu Xiang stood and watched Xue and Ying Zheng leave. “Alright.”

Once the door connecting the prison corridor to the outside world closed again and the light dimmed once more, Zhu Xiang returned to his thin blanket, undid his hair, and lay there, dazed.

Xue really was the person who understood him best.

She knew that once he left home and took this path of sacrificing himself for righteousness, even if he survived this brush with death, he would likely keep seeking death again and again in the future.

Someone like him… really was just a scumbag.

Zhu Xiang turned over and buried his face in the blanket.

Yu Xin had been investigating for several days, and the more he discovered, the more alarmed he became.

He had only just learned that Zhu Xiang’s ties to the state of Qin weren’t close at all. Zhu Xiang’s elder sister, who had borne a child with a Qin hostage prince, had not only once abandoned Zhu Xiang—nearly letting him die of illness when he was young—but had also abandoned the current young Qin prince. It was said that when the villagers first saw the chubby little prince, he was so thin and frail he looked like a commoner’s child.

So Zhu Xiang couldn’t possibly be a spy Qin had planted in Zhao.

He had been wrong.

Yu Xin sat on the edge of a field, one hand propping up his forehead, wracked with guilt.

If he had just investigated himself, he would’ve seen how ridiculous his assumptions were. But his heart was filled with hatred for Qin, blinding his judgment.

No—it wasn’t just that.

He had also been blinded by Zhu Xiang’s humble origins.

How could a peasant child, who never even had the chance to learn to read, possibly become a great sage?

If the story had been that Lin Xiangru had taken pity on a poor commoner boy and mentored him into greatness, that would’ve made sense. But the rumor was that Zhu Xiang had been exceptionally intelligent since childhood, and had impressed Lin Xiangru with his talent, becoming his retainer and gaining fame at a young age.

Yu Xin didn’t believe in prodigies. That’s why he had suspected Zhu Xiang of being a spy trained by Qin.

But the truth told him: when Zhu Xiang first sought out Lin Xiangru, he could barely read, and hadn’t studied much. But he was clever—whether it was farming, business, or handicrafts, Zhu Xiang seemed to know it all.

A warrior who cannot read can still become a mighty general, invincible against ten thousand. So why can’t a farmer’s son who cannot read be gifted in agriculture, commerce, and craftsmanship?

Zhu Xiang’s other learning did indeed gradually deepen under the guidance of Lin Xiangru. Later, Lian Po and Xun Kuang also began to teach him, and that was how Zhu Xiang became the great sage he is today.

Though Zhu Xiang is still very young, what he has accomplished is truly worthy of the title “great sage.”

“So it turns out Zhu Xiang was initially resented because he increased the grain yield for commoners, which enraged some nobles at court who had been waiting for peasants to starve so they could seize their fertile land.”

“So it turns out Zhu Xiang was dismissed because he tried to have the commoners plant famine-relief potatoes on land outside the fertile fields.”

“So it turns out Zhu Xiang had already tried to persuade Zhao Kuo not to go to Changping, and as soon as Zhao Kuo did go, he immediately made preparations, wanting to rush to Changping…”

Yu Xin held his forehead, sobbing, until he broke into anguished wailing.

“I was wrong! I nearly ruined the great sage of Zhao!”

He cried as he stood up and walked back into Handan.

He mounted his horse, and with tears streaming, galloped toward the royal palace.

“Zhu Xiang is innocent!” Yu Xin wept and shouted as he rode through the streets and alleys, “Please, King of Zhao, release Zhu Xiang. It was my mistake to accuse him. I’m willing to atone with my life. Please release Zhu Xiang!”

Passersby on both sides stared in shock as Yu Xin galloped away, then began whispering among themselves.

The King of Zhao watched in alarm as Yu Xin wept and entered the palace, throwing himself to the ground and refusing to rise. “Please, Your Majesty, release Zhu Xiang. It was all my fault. I harmed a loyal and virtuous man. Please lay all the blame on me! Let me bear all the guilt and take my head as punishment!”

The King of Zhao helped Yu Xin up and comforted him, “Lord Yu, why torment yourself so? Zhu Xiang’s background has always been questionable. You were simply expressing a reasonable suspicion. Once the evidence is clear, I will personally go and invite Zhu Xiang out. What does this have to do with you?”

Yu Xin looked the king in the eye and said, “Please, Your Majesty, release Zhu Xiang immediately and kill me to appease the people. Your Majesty, you must not make another mistake! Zhu Xiang is truly a wise and capable man who can help you become a hegemon. He truly has no ties to Qin!”

The King of Zhao was displeased to see Yu Xin pressing him like this.

Yet he continued to soothe him: “Very well. Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang are currently away from Handan searching for evidence. Once they return, I will immediately discuss with them how to release Zhu Xiang. We cannot have just imprisoned him and then release him for no reason. What would happen to my royal authority?”

Yu Xin sighed inwardly and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He knew the king still refused to yield and could only withdraw for now to find Lou Chang.

Though Lou Chang was dull, he was truly loyal to the King of Zhao. If he could persuade Lou Chang, perhaps the king might change his mind.

Yu Xin also immediately sent letters to Lords Pingyuan and Pingyang, urging them to return at once and help persuade the king to release Zhu Xiang.

As soon as Yu Xin left, the King of Zhao smashed the vessels on his table, his face purple with rage.

“This Zhu Xiang—he’s even managed to sway Yu Xin!” the king growled through gritted teeth, consumed with fury.

Zhu Xiang’s very existence seemed to constantly humiliate him.

Lin Xiangru had always recommended Zhu Xiang, yet the King of Zhao never appointed him. As Zhu Xiang became more capable and famous, the king still only gave him hollow honors and refused to trust him. The king had not believed Zhu Xiang could negotiate with Qin at Changping—but not only had Zhu Xiang succeeded, he had also gained great prestige from it.

Even without leaving the palace, the King of Zhao had already heard from his attendants that many in Handan said he was a muddle-headed ruler who couldn’t recognize true talent and had chosen Zhao Kuo over Zhu Xiang.

“Your Majesty, that Zhu Xiang is indeed infuriating,” one attendant said, seeing that the king had vented his anger and speaking to flatter him. “He has such high prestige in Zhao that even the people of Handan are willing to die for him. If this continues, Your Majesty will be in danger.”

The King of Zhao frowned. “It is indeed dangerous.”

Thinking of King Li of Zhou, he now wished to leave Handan for a while to avoid the storm.

But even though he was already thinking of fleeing the city, he still didn’t want to release Zhu Xiang.

The King of Zhao was unwilling to bow his head to a mere commoner and admit that all he had done since taking the throne had been the acts of a foolish ruler.

“Your Majesty, Zhu Xiang must not be allowed to live,” the attendant leaned in and whispered, “His fame is so great, and he even has ties to Qin. If one day the Qin army attacks Handan, what if Zhu Xiang opens the gates from within?”

The King of Zhao sighed. The attendant’s words had hit the mark.

He had finally found an excuse to explain his dislike for Zhu Xiang: “Yes, this is quite the dilemma. But now Zhu Xiang can no longer be killed.”

The close attendant said, “Zhao cannot kill Zhu Xiang, but Qin can.”

King of Zhao grew excited: “Oh? Speak quickly.”

The close attendant whispered, “Qin must also be worried that Zhu Xiang might help Zhao grow stronger than Qin. And since killing Zhu Xiang would upset the people of Zhao, Your Majesty naturally wouldn’t want to do it—but Qin would certainly be willing.”

The King of Zhao stroked his beard and nodded. “That makes sense.”

The attendant continued, “Given the brutality and cunning of the Qin, wouldn’t it be completely expected for them to sneak into the prison, kill Zhu Xiang, and frame Zhao for it?”

The King of Zhao took several deep breaths, his eyes lighting up. “That way, I can use Zhu Xiang’s death to rally the morale of the Zhao people! Then I can promote those who were close to Zhu Xiang—Lian Po, Li Mu, and Lin Xiangru—and Zhao will surely grow strong!”

The attendant cupped his hands and said, “Exactly. Zhu Xiang cannot be allowed to live—if he lives, how could Your Majesty hold your ground? But he also cannot die by Your Majesty’s hand. He must die at the hands of the Qin.”

The King of Zhao looked at the attendant. “Can you handle this?”

The attendant gave a bitter smile. “I’m willing to die for Your Majesty. But… I have no way to impersonate a Qin.”

The King stroked his beard again and nodded without another word.

He rewarded the attendant generously and then tasked the palace’s secret guards to carry out the mission.

The King of Zhao had his own secret guards—how else could the palace be protected? The Lou family was merely his blade; Zhao Dan had also inherited loyal deathsworn guards from both his father and mother.

The attendant left, grinning from ear to ear. Previously, another attendant had suggested imprisoning Zhu Xiang and had been rewarded for it. From that, he had seen the pattern—the king wanted Zhu Xiang dead. Sure enough, as long as he followed the king’s wishes, he too could become a favored courtier!

The attendant who had originally proposed imprisoning Zhu Xiang had been secretly reporting the king’s attitude toward Zhu Xiang to Qin in order to earn more bribes. When he heard about the latest development, he was so frightened he dropped his wine cup.

“Fools! If Zhu Xiang dies, perhaps Qin can be framed and the King of Zhao’s reputation will remain intact. But the one who suggested imprisoning Zhu Xiang—me—and that idiot trying to kill him will both die!” The attendant who had taken Qin’s bribes paced anxiously and gritted his teeth. “I must inform Qin immediately!”

He decided to send the defense map of Handan City to Qin as well. If Zhu Xiang died, he would flee to Qin at once!

“I’ll remember you for this!” the Qin-aligned attendant growled through clenched teeth.

At that moment, Bai Qi was already leading 80,000 troops near Handan.

Of these, 20,000 had once been Zhao soldiers. Now, as part of the Qin army, they would guide the Qin forces past Zhao’s weakened defenses to rescue Zhu Xiang.

Bai Qi had marched hard for eight days and quickly reached the outskirts of Handan, setting up camp in a desolate mountain.

Due to the chaos of prolonged warfare, many nearby mountains were deserted, and the people of Zhao had no idea the Qin army had already arrived. So far, the Qin forces hadn’t fought a single battle.

Bai Qi was speechless. Had Lian Po still not been reinstated?

Given the current situation, he felt like he could replicate his old campaign against Chu, take Handan, and even set fire to the Zhao king’s ancestral tomb.

But Bai Qi only entertained the thought. He had no intention of actually attacking Handan.

First, even if he took the city, he couldn’t hold it—it would be a wasted effort. Second, he had just achieved a great military victory and needed time to consolidate.

Bai Qi sighed inwardly. Ever since learning that the King of Qin harbored murderous intent toward him, he could no longer serve as loyally as before and had begun to consider his own legacy.

“General! Someone brings news from inside Handan,” a personal guard reported. “He says the King of Zhao wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang! We must attack Handan at once and rescue him!”

Bai Qi yanked out a clump of his beard.

“Why would the King of Zhao want to kill Zhu Xiang?” Bai Qi couldn’t understand. “He already put Zhu Xiang in prison to appease the nobles who hate him—that was far enough. Why go so far as to kill him? Didn’t Handan already erupt in protest when Zhu Xiang was imprisoned? Is he trying to become the next King Li of Zhao?”

The guard said, “That man said the King of Zhao wants to frame Qin.”

Bai Qi looked even more confused. “Even so, rumors will surely spread that the King of Zhao killed Zhu Xiang and merely tried to frame Qin. After all, he’s always been the one wanting Zhu Xiang dead. All Qin needs to do is retrieve their hostage. And those close to Zhu Xiang—Lin Xiangru and Lian Po—are no fools. They’ll know the truth.”

The guard replied, “Well… I don’t know. That’s just what the message said.”

Bai Qi tugged his beard furiously.

This King of Zhao… Clearly not related to Zhao Kuo, yet just as incomprehensible as Zhao Kuo!

Bai Qi let out a long sigh and growled, “All troops—attack Handan!”