HCT – Chapter 36 The Prison Key

The royal palace stirred with subtle unrest. Those favored by King Zhao sensed something in the air, while those who had fallen from grace remained in the dark.

One day, the mother of Zhao Kuo suddenly invited all the retainers of Zhao She and Zhao Kuo to a feast.

Although Zhao Kuo had suffered defeat, the reputation of the Marquis of Ma Fu still carried weight. Moreover, Zhao Kuo’s Mother had shown wisdom and clarity when she had begged the king not to send Zhao Kuo to Changping. Because of this, her standing remained high. Thus, all whom she invited attended the gathering.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother had never liked appearing before others; this was the first time she summoned the retainers as the matriarch of the household.

Before the feast began, Zhao Kuo’s Mother took out Zhao She’s old sword and laid it across her knees.

“My son has nearly destroyed all of my husband’s honor,” she said, drawing the sword halfway from its scabbard. “I will not let what remains of his reputation be ruined.”

Those seated looked on in alarm, unsure of what she intended.

Was she going to take revenge for Zhao Kuo?

Zhao Kuo’s Mother ran her fingers along the blade, letting it cut her fingertip and draw blood.

An elder of the Zhao family brought over a wine jar, and Zhao Kuo’s Mother let her blood drip into it.

“Many of your sons died in Changping, just like mine,” Zhao Kuo’s Mother said calmly. “Lord Zhu Xiang rescued 150,000, but over 200,000 perished. And perhaps the children of our Zhao family elders didn’t even die on the battlefield.”

Her wrinkled face twisted into a sneer. “They were killed by Zhao soldiers!”

“Madam!” a retainer, shocked, tried to interject.

But a single glance from Zhao Kuo’s Mother froze him to silence.

“You all likely know the truth by now. My son Zhao Kuo, knowing it was a trap, still let himself be lured in by the enemy’s lead general who deliberately played bait. Just like in every military debate he ever had, he always believed he held the advantage, that his opponent had a flaw. That’s why he was ‘invincible in discussion’.”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother’s sneer deepened.

“He marched the entire Zhao army straight into the Qin encirclement, believing the soldiers would execute his plans as flawlessly as his theories. So he seized the rations from ordinary soldiers he deemed expendable, and gave them to his guards, his so-called brave warriors, and the horses!”

“He even wanted to execute soldiers who disobeyed and tried to survive on the potatoes General Lian had left behind!”

“Ha! That’s how he got himself killed—by the very soldiers he had starved and enraged! His guards were slaughtered too! Even the retainers he brought along died with him!”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother pulled the sword fully from its scabbard, her voice shrill: “Tell me—did they not deserve to die?!”

“I say—they did!”

Her piercing voice stabbed through the ears of everyone present, striking their hearts and leaving them stunned.

“Even if he was my son, he deserved to die!” she cried. “Had my husband still been alive, he would’ve disowned Zhao Kuo with his own hands!”

“I know some of you hate Lord Zhu Xiang. But why? Tell me, why?”

“The ones who killed your sons were enraged Zhao soldiers. Who enraged them? Zhao Kuo! Who sent Zhao Kuo to war? King Zhao! Who attacked Changping? The Qin!”

“Zhao cannot defeat Qin. You dare not hate the king. Zhao Kuo is already dead. There are too many furious soldiers to blame. So you choose to hate the only one who did something good—Zhu Xiang!”

“Your sons died on the battlefield or were cut down by their own countrymen, while Zhu Xiang saved those same soldiers and became the only Zhao person credited with a success at Changping!”

“So tell me, did Zhu Xiang do anything wrong? And yet, some of you still want to take it out on him!”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother regretted it all.

When the king appointed Zhao Kuo as commander, she had only begged him to spare her life if Zhao Kuo failed. She thought that as long as she lived, her husband’s former colleagues would protect her grandson and preserve Zhao She’s bloodline.

But if she had threatened Zhao Kuo with her death to stop him from going to Changping, instead of seeking self-preservation, perhaps things would be different now.

What would the people of Zhao do if Zhu Xiang was killed?

Even if they remembered the Marquis of Ma Fu and held back, would King Zhao still shift the blame to her family?

To protect the last shred of her husband’s honor, to shield his bloodline—even if it chilled the hearts of the retainers—she had to make one thing clear: she had no intention of avenging Zhao Kuo.

And even if vengeance were due, Zhu Xiang was not the target! Zhao Kuo’s Mother was deeply grateful to him. If all the soldiers had died in Changping, the world would remember only Zhao Kuo’s defeat—not the deeds of the Marquis of Ma Fu.

“Ask yourselves—should you really hate Lord Zhu Xiang? If you still have a conscience, you would not harm him out of jealousy or misplaced anger!”

“Instead, Zhu Xiang convinced the Qin to spare Zhao soldiers, redeeming the mistakes our sons made. We should protect him!”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother shouted, “If you agree with this old woman, then drip your blood into this wine jar and swear an oath that you will never repay Zhu Xiang’s kindness with betrayal. If you don’t agree, then leave now. From this moment on, you are my enemies!”

With that, Zhao Kuo’s Mother unsheathed her husband’s old sword and gazed sadly at the spotless blade.

“No, Madam!” A retainer closest to her rushed forward, sobbing. “We all know we should thank Lord Zhu Xiang. How could we harm him?”

He drew his sword, cut his finger, and let blood drip into the wine.

One by one, the retainers followed. They all carried swords or small knives for eating—no special tools were needed.

Seeing them pledge with blood, Zhao Kuo’s Mother finally relaxed.

She didn’t expect the oath to bind them. What she needed was for them to take it publicly—and spread the word.

Once everyone had sworn, Zhao Kuo’s Mother ordered the blood-wine to be poured into a larger jar and distributed a bowl to each guest. Then the banquet began.

Just as the tense atmosphere started to ease, the sound of metal hitting the floor rang out.

Everyone looked over, startled. An elderly man, his hair and beard white, had dropped his wine cup and was covering his face, weeping.

“Madam… it’s too late… it’s already too late…” His voice was filled with anguish. “I know I shouldn’t have hated Zhu Xiang… but I couldn’t hate the king, and I couldn’t hate Zhao Kuo… so who else could I hate?”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother strode over, sword in hand. “What did you do?!”

The old man shook his head. “The king wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang and blame it on the Qin. I helped lure Lian Po and Lin Xiangru out of Handan.”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother exhaled with relief. “You didn’t act yet?”

The old man gave a bitter smile. “I… I already sent men…”

With a sharp cry, Zhao Kuo’s Mother stabbed the sword into the low table before him. “Have you lost your mind?! The king told you that to shift blame—onto you! Onto me! If the people don’t believe the Qin did it, your men will be the scapegoats!”

She gave a bitter laugh. “No… it won’t be blame-shifting. You really did act…”

The old man pressed his face to the ground. “I’ve been a fool! Only after hearing you speak did I realize the king tricked me. I can’t even get revenge—and now I’ve endangered my family. Madam, save me!”

Zhao Kuo’s Mother took a deep breath and told the others, “Even if you still harbor resentment toward Zhu Xiang, for the sake of not being framed—go with me to protect him!”

All the retainers stood as one: “We obey!”

The word “唯” indicated obedience from subordinates to a superior in a military context. By saying it, the retainers had acknowledged Zhao Kuo’s Mother as their commander, ready to follow her into battle—even if it meant death.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother took up her sword. Her retainers readied a carriage, and together they rushed to the prison where Zhu Xiang was held.

Lowering the carriage curtain, Zhao Kuo’s Mother hugged the sword to her chest, her expression revealing fear.

She wiped her tears and cursed Zhao She for dying before her, forcing her to wield the sword and become the “commander” of the household retainers.

Zhao She had made enemies in his youth and only married once he was secure in Zhao. His health had suffered from years of campaigning, and he had only Zhao Kuo, whom he had spoiled too much.

After marrying Zhao She, Zhao Kuo’s Mother had lived a life of comfort, free of hardship and danger. Though intelligent, she had always stayed behind the scenes, supporting Zhao She, never wielding a sword herself.

Now in her old age, she had become the “commander,” sword in hand, leading her husband’s old retainers into an uncertain battle. She was terrified.

“My love… I’m truly afraid…” Zhao Kuo’s Mother wept, clutching the sword. “I was afraid when Kuo went to Changping. I was afraid when Zhu Xiang returned with the surviving troops. And now… I’m still afraid…”

Curled up with the sword, she muttered the words she had once said as a young girl when her husband returned victorious from war. But there was no one left to pull her into an embrace and whisper, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”

She could only dry her tears, force a resolute expression onto her face, and wield her husband’s sword—leading his old retainers to defend their home and the last shreds of his honor.

Lian Po had left Handan to deal with urgent matters concerning Zhu Xiang.

So had Lin Xiangru.

Xue didn’t know what business they had—but fear gripped her heart.

Even with Li Mu and Xun Kuang trying to reassure her, she remained deeply anxious.

She held Ying Zheng tightly, sobbing in helplessness. She had promised her beloved that she would wait for him, protect young Zheng, and be his unwavering support. But she wasn’t as strong or wise as she had claimed.

“Zheng’er, Auntie is so scared…” she whispered, unable to bother the elders and friends who were already exhausted trying to save her beloved. All she could do was confide in Ying Zheng.

The little boy wiped her tears with his chubby hands, though his heart was also in turmoil.

When his uncle was imprisoned, he had once entered a dream realm. In that dream, he had racked his brain to find a way to save his uncle. But no matter how he thought it through, he felt powerless.

What could a child, whose short legs made him stumble when he ran, possibly do? Nothing.

All Ying Zheng could do was comfort his aunt, offer suggestions with his precocious intelligence, and help manage the household for her sake.

Xue didn’t fear Ying Zheng’s extraordinary intelligence like many adults did. Instead, she encouraged him. When Ying Zheng was hesitant to show his talents, Xue comforted him, saying that Zhu Xiang had been just as bright when he was a child, so there was no need for him to hide.

Only then did Ying Zheng dare to offer advice for Xue’s predicament.

“Uncle and Aunt are deeply connected. If Aunt suddenly feels uneasy, perhaps something really has happened to Uncle,” Ying Zheng said, wiping Xue’s tears while keeping a serious expression on his small face. “Aunt can ask Uncle Lin and Uncle Li to visit Uncle Zhu Xiang. If nothing’s wrong, it might only stir some discontent from King Zhao, who already dislikes Uncle. But since Uncle Lin isn’t an official of Zhao and Uncle Li holds a low rank, King Zhao probably won’t pay much attention to them.”

Xue gently stroked Ying Zheng’s hair and said, “Alright, you… you stay here. Aunt…”

“No! I’m going too!” Ying Zheng clung tightly to her neck. “If anyone hurts Aunt, I’ll shout that I’m the Prince of Qin! If the Zhao people kill me, the Qin State will have a reason to attack Handan and avenge me! They wouldn’t dare hurt me!”

Xue hesitated. “But…”

Ying Zheng rubbed his cheek against hers and said, “Aunt, if Uncle Xun and Uncle Li both leave with you, it’s not safe for me to stay home either. I might as well go with you.”

Xue paused for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Aunt will protect you!”

She changed into a Hu-style outfit and picked up Zhu Xiang’s sword. The sword was heavy for her, given her limited strength.

She pursed her lips, slung the sword onto her back, and went to find Xun Kuang and Li Mu.

Hearing Xue’s worry, Xun Kuang and Li Mu agreed to go immediately to check on Zhu Xiang for peace of mind, but they hoped Xue and Ying Zheng would stay behind.

“If something really has happened to my husband, they might target me and Zheng’er. It’s safest for us to go with you,” Xue said, using the same reasoning Ying Zheng had used to persuade her.

Xun Kuang selected a few Confucian disciples—though he didn’t admit they were his—and Li Mu brought his private soldiers. They mounted horses and rushed toward Handan.

Xue also rode a horse.

When Zhu Xiang taught her horseback riding, he had made her a Hu-style outfit and trained her himself. Though she didn’t enjoy the jostling, she could manage.

With Zhu Xiang’s sword strapped on her back and Zheng’er tied to her front, her riding posture was very awkward. Li Mu had tried to help by carrying Zheng’er and then handing him to her after dismounting, but Xue had refused.

She thought to herself: If I can’t even manage this small task, how can I fulfill the promises I made to my beloved?

As dusk approached, someone suddenly arrived with a royal decree, ordering the replacement of the prison guards that Zhao Sheng and Zhao Bao had specially arranged to protect Zhu Xiang.

The prison officer stopped them: “Any reassignment of guards must be authorized by both Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang.”

The team leader snapped, “Are you saying that their orders override the king’s?!”

The officer replied, “Not at all. It is precisely by royal command that all personnel changes at Lord Zhu Xiang’s prison require joint approval from Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang.”

The team leader frowned.

“You didn’t know this?” the officer asked, suspicious.

The team leader’s expression eased into a smile. “Of course I knew. Just testing you. Here.”

He presented the tokens of Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang. “Now can we switch the guards?”

Though still wary, the officer couldn’t deny the authenticity of the tokens and had to agree.

“Hand me the prison keys,” the leader ordered.

The officer became alert again. “I was appointed by the king to oversee this matter. Unless His Majesty personally orders me, even Lord Pingyuan and Lord Pingyang cannot change my post.”

The team leader stiffened. The king hadn’t mentioned this? Could it be…

He realized the king likely intended to leave no loose ends, though it hadn’t been stated outright.

Reading the will of the king was also part of a death warrior’s duty. After completing their mission, they would shoulder the blame for the king. He sighed inwardly, regretful that his moment of loyalty had come so soon, but he felt no resentment or fear.

Death warriors were trained from childhood never to fear fatal missions.

“I’m only here to deliver the king’s order to Zhu Xiang,” he said. “Take me to him.”

Even before he finished speaking, his men drew their swords and attacked the unsuspecting guards.

The prison officer had anticipated betrayal and managed to draw his sword in time to block the strike.

“You… I’ve seen you before… You’re the king’s bodyguard!” the officer’s eyes widened in shock. “The king wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang?!”

The leader hadn’t expected to be recognized by a lowly officer. He had only served as a guard during the king’s outings, and his face had always been disguised. He was confident no one would recognize him.

But this officer was no ordinary man. Known for his excellent facial recognition skills, he had earned his post by catching criminals. It was precisely for this reason that Lords Pingyuan and Pingyang had requested the king assign him to guard Zhu Xiang.

“Kill him!” the leader, now flustered, gave the order. His men blocked the exits and began the slaughter using compact crossbows—perfect for assassinations in confined spaces. Though not highly lethal, the arrows could easily incapacitate unarmored targets. A follow-up strike would finish them.

But the guards, veterans handpicked by Zhao Sheng and Zhao Bao—some even secretly placed by General Lian Po—charged fearlessly through the arrows, wielding long swords despite multiple wounds.

The prison officer ran while shouting, “Break through! If those outside hear that King Zhao wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang, the assassins won’t dare let him die!”

“Kill him!” the leader panicked even more at those words.

He led a group past the battling guards in pursuit of the officer.

The guards split into two teams—one to break out, the other to escort the officer.

The officer, running, pulled out a flint lighter and set fire to a hay pile in the courtyard. Thick smoke billowed into the sky.

He rushed to the thick wooden gate that connected to the main prison. During the day, the door was left open to ventilate Zhu Xiang’s cell. He tossed the key to Zhu Xiang’s cell through the doorway before slamming the gate shut and locking it.

He wished he could also throw away the gate key, but the door needed it to be locked.

Taking a deep breath, he shouted toward the high prison walls with all his strength: “King Zhao wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang! Please help!”

Then, he raised the key and tried to stab it into his mouth.

The key was as long as an adult’s palm—impossible to swallow whole. He crouched, forcing it into his mouth little by little.

Soon, the sharp edge tore into his throat. He first coughed up saliva, then blood.

He thought, maybe slitting my throat would’ve been easier.

But despite the excruciating pain, he kept pushing the key down until it was completely swallowed.

The signal had been sent. Perhaps this could buy Lord Zhu Xiang a little more time.

Gasping for air, he wiped the blood from his lips, drew his sword, and charged at the assassins sent by the king.

By the time the smoke rose, Zhao Kuo’s Mother’s carriage was only a few li from the prison.

“Faster!” the driver didn’t need her command—he immediately alerted the others.

He didn’t know the smoke was a distress signal, but fire near the prison meant something had happened.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother lifted the curtain and looked toward the smoke.

She gritted her teeth. Forgetting about offending the king even more, she shouted to the crowd, “I am the wife of Lord Ma Fu! Lord Zhu Xiang is under attack! Please help me save him!”

Her household retainers joined in, “Lord Zhu Xiang is under attack! Please help us!”

The crowd stared at the carriage in surprise—some even forgot to kneel.

Then they noticed the rising smoke.

A butcher about to pack up grabbed his cleaver. A shopkeeper closing up clenched a wooden stick. An old man sweeping his doorstep grabbed his broom. Others picked up branches, stones—or simply charged in empty-handed.

They all followed Zhao Kuo’s Mother’s carriage.

A bit farther from the smoke, Xun Kuang and Li Mu, not currently holding any official post, had entered the city quietly. Xun Kuang and Xue transferred to an ox cart, while Li Mu led his private soldiers on foot toward the prison.

Li Mu and his men were experts at forced marches, their pace rapid. When they saw the smoke, they were just one street farther than Zhao Kuo’s Mother.

Li Mu’s heart sank. Xue’s premonition had come true!

“Faster!” he shouted.

“Wait—are you going to save Lord Zhu Xiang?” a richly dressed man stopped him. “Take my horse! If anyone blocks you, show them this token!”

Li Mu looked down—it was Lord Pingyuan’s token.

He clasped his fists in salute and said, “Thank you, Lord Xinling!”

With that, he ordered a few people to borrow the nobleman’s horses, while the rest continued to run on foot.

Wei Wuji, the Lord Xinling, asked in confusion, “How did he know I’m Lord Xinling?”

Hou Ying tucked his hands into his sleeves and replied, “He must already know that you’ve arrived in Handan. At a time like this, anyone daring to show the token of Lord Pingyuan and gallop through the city can only be you, my lord.”

Wei Wuji smiled. “Lord Pingyuan is my brother-in-law. If he’s in trouble, I should help him out.”

Hou Ying sighed. “My lord, I know you admire the virtuous reputation of Lord Zhu Xiang, but the one attempting to assassinate him this time may very well be the King of Zhao himself. As an envoy of Wei, you shouldn’t get involved.”

Wei Wuji sighed repeatedly. Precisely because of this, he lent his horse to Li Mu instead of going himself.

“That Zhao general named Li Mu is a righteous man. If only he could come back to Wei with me,” Wei Wuji lamented again.

Hou Ying rolled his eyes without bothering to hide his disdain and refrained from pointing out his lord’s unrealistic hopes.

Li Mu’s family had served as generals in Yanmen for generations. How could he possibly leave Zhao for Wei? Even if he did want to serve Wei, he wouldn’t be able to get a high position if he were recommended by Lord Xinling.

Though his lord refused to admit it, wasn’t it obvious how wary the King of Wei was of him? How could the king ever appoint someone his lord recommended as a general? Hmph.

“I’m worried about Lord Zhu Xiang.” Wei Wuji paced in place, then looked at Hou Ying with pleading eyes.

Hou Ying let out a long sigh. “My lord, at least change your clothes before going. You must not reveal your identity!”

“Alright!” Wei Wuji, with Hou Ying’s approval, immediately swapped clothes with one of his guards. He even messed up his hair and rolled on the ground a few times before dashing toward the rising smoke.

Hou Ying was speechless.

Forget it. His lord had never cared about appearances when seeking out worthy men.

He sighed again. At his age, he still had to run through the streets with Wei Wuji.

A dozen others were also running, following Wei Wuji with proud smiles on their faces.

The King of Zhao ascended a tall tower in the palace and looked out toward the place where Zhu Xiang was imprisoned.

Musicians played; dancers twirled.

He pretended to enjoy the performance, but inside, he was anxiously waiting.

Finally, he saw smoke rising in the distance—both nervous and excited.

The King of Zhao wondered, Is Zhu Xiang already dead? Was that fire meant to destroy all evidence?

At that moment, a surge of satisfaction welled up in his heart.

Since the death of his mother, he had finally taken power. Yet every policy he issued was opposed by his late father’s old ministers. They clung to their seniority, showed him no respect, and constantly mentioned his deceased elder brother, Zhao Li.

To be fair, those old ministers were often right—like with their support of Lord Zhu Xiang. But that only made the king hate them even more.

Just then, a palace attendant rushed in. “Your Majesty! Civilians are attacking Handan’s city gates! They’re holding farm tools—likely local peasants!”

The King of Zhao snapped, “What?! How dare civilians rebel?! Haven’t the gate guards killed them yet?!”

The attendant knelt. “For some reason, the guards actually let them in.”

The king’s face froze, a chill running through him.

He slumped back in his seat, silent for a long time before muttering, “Zhu Xiang…”

The attendant sighed internally at the king’s foolishness. “Yes. They’re shouting that they want to rescue Lord Zhu Xiang from prison.”

The king’s face became expressionless. “Why today?”

The attendant replied, “It’s said that Zhu Xiang’s family rode into the city on horseback today, declaring he’s in danger.”

The king opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, his mind blank.

He wanted to ask who leaked the news.

But he also knew—it was too late for that now.

Fear finally gripped him.

“P-prepare my carriage!” the King of Zhao gritted out. “It’s the Qin who want to kill Zhu Xiang, not me! I’m going to save him! Get my carriage ready now!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As he stood up, the king quickly added, “Summon all palace guards to protect me on the way!”

Another internal sigh from the attendant. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

While waiting for the guards to assemble, another report came.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Bai Qi has appeared!!” The man was so panicked he fell before he could kneel. “It’s Bai Qi—his banner is right outside Handan!”

The king’s legs went weak. Luckily he was sitting, or he would’ve collapsed. “Who? Who did you say?!”

The messenger’s voice trembled. “Bai Qi. Bai Qi is outside the city gates. He sent an envoy into the city, saying—saying…”

The king could hear his own teeth chattering. “Saying what?!”

The man kowtowed furiously, choking with tears. “Saying he’ll trade Handan City… for Lord Zhu Xiang!”

The king went limp.

As the Qin army approached Handan, they finally encountered Zhao forces.

Bai Qi was about to give the order to attack, but Bo Fu, who had slipped out of the city to meet him, stopped him.

Bo Fu, now bolder after all he’d been through, dared interrupt Bai Qi’s command. “General, I don’t think that’s an army. I saw familiar faces. Please allow me to investigate first.”

Bai Qi stared at him in silence for a while. Bo Fu met his gaze bravely, without a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“…Very well.” Bai Qi was puzzled. Have I lost my intimidating presence?

With permission, Bo Fu quickly stripped off his Qin uniform and emerged from the hidden ranks.

There were indeed forests near Handan capable of hiding eighty thousand Qin troops—a sign of Zhao’s declining power.

“Old man, where are you all going?” Bo Fu rushed into the group and asked directly.

The old man grabbed his sleeve. “Lord Zhu Xiang is in danger! We’re going to save him!”

Bo Fu tensed. “How do you know he’s in danger?!”

The old man replied, “His wife rode into the city with a sword! She can’t even lift a hoe properly, yet she’s ready to fight. That means Lord Zhu Xiang’s in real danger! She even tied her son in front of her—they’re ready to die as a family!”

He wiped his tears. “Young men shouldn’t go to Handan. You’ll just be killed. Us old folks have lived long enough—it’s time to repay our debts. You should stay behind, too.”

With that, the old man hoisted his pitchfork and continued walking toward the city.

Bo Fu clenched his fists and ran back to the Qin encampment to report to Bai Qi.

Bai Qi pondered for a moment. “Lower the banners. Remove the black uniforms. Scatter and approach the city in small groups. If questioned, say you’re local farmers going to save Lord Zhu Xiang.”

The officers accepted the order.

Bai Qi also disguised himself as an old farmer, making his way toward Handan, telling everyone he met that he was going to rescue Lord Zhu Xiang.

By the time he reached a point where he could see the city, many Zhao civilians had joined his group.

Handan was vast. Eighty thousand soldiers, dispersed and hidden outside the city walls, didn’t attract much attention—especially with the tense atmosphere making guards sloppy.

Bai Qi rubbed his temples.

He felt like, if he charged in right now, he could probably capture the King of Zhao alive and force a new king to be appointed.

But Handan was too far from other Qin territories, with the Taihang Mountains in between. Defending it against a coalition of states would be nearly impossible. The cost would outweigh the gain, except in terms of morale.

As for morale…

Bai Qi looked at the dispirited city guards. Maybe I don’t even need to capture the king to crush Zhao’s morale.

Upon reaching Handan, Bai Qi lit smoke signals and ordered the army to regroup.

Just as he was restoring the “Lord of Wu’an” banner, a man with a decree from the King of Qin requested an audience.

“I’ve been waiting near the city gates for some time now,” said Cai Ze, presenting a bamboo slip. “I am Cai Ze, a friend of Lord Zhu Xiang. I’ve persuaded the King of Qin and resolved your concerns.”

After persuading Lord Xinling, Cai Ze hadn’t returned to Handan. He detoured to Shangdang, risking his life to intercept the Qin king.

Upon learning Cai Ze was a friend of Zhu Xiang, the king granted him an audience.

After receiving the official decree, Cai Ze rushed back to Zhao, hiding near Handan to wait for Bai Qi’s arrival.

Bai Qi glanced at him, took the bamboo slip, and upon reading it, his breath caught.

“Trade Handan for Zhu Xiang?!”

He was stunned at first, then burst into loud laughter.

All his frustration with the Qin king vanished in an instant.

Even if the king harbored murderous intent toward him, to serve such a ruler—even at risk—was worth it!

I go forth!

“Cai Qing, do you dare serve as Qin’s envoy to complete this exchange?” Bai Qi asked with a laugh.

Cai Ze cupped his hands. “Yes, sir.”

Bai Qi waved his hand. “Raise my banner! Escort Cai Qing to meet the King of Zhao!”

The Qin soldiers shouted in unison, “Aye!”

Zhu Xiang heard the jailer’s cry.

He froze for a moment, then tried to pry open the cell door. But it was too sturdy—he couldn’t budge it.

Defeated, he slumped to the ground.

The thick wooden door couldn’t completely block out sound. His cell, placed closest to the entrance for ventilation, allowed him to faintly hear the fighting outside.

Perhaps because the cell was too quiet, his hearing became unusually sharp. He could even distinguish the screams and curses of people he recognized.

After the jailer shouted, “The King of Zhao wants to kill Lord Zhu Xiang!”, Zhu Xiang heard nothing more from him.

Had he escaped? Or was he silenced before he could speak again?

The fight outside was both slow and fast—his heartbeat marking time, each second feeling like an eternity. But soon, the screams faded and gave way to the sound of hacking at the wooden door.

When that failed, they searched for the keys.

From their cursing, it didn’t go well.

They even tried to burn the door but lacked enough firewood.

Finally, they seemed to find the key.

Zhu Xiang let out a deep sigh, dressed himself, straightened his sleeves and headpiece, and stood at the cell door, hands clasped behind his back, spine ramrod straight.

After eliminating most of the assassins in the front hall, the remaining prison guards collapsed.

The surviving assassins didn’t have time to finish them off—they rushed to reinforce the rear upon hearing their leader’s call.

One guard, barely clinging to life, pushed off the corpse lying on him and crawled toward the main door.

He managed to open it before collapsing, a crowd already gathered outside.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother had just arrived, planning to break down the door. It opened just in time.

“The King of Zhao sent assassins to kill Lord Zhu Xiang!” the mortally wounded guard roared. “They slaughtered my comrades to silence us!”

With that last shout, eyes wide in fury, he died on the spot.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother drew her sword and charged in without a word. Her retainers followed.

They saw corpses in prison guard uniforms, their eyes filled with unwillingness and hatred, lying in pools of blood.

Zhao Kuo’s Mother took a deep breath, the air thick with the stench of blood.

She pressed on—and saw the King of Zhao’s assassins still hacking at a corpse.

“Kill them!”

Despite her age and frailty, Zhao Kuo’s Mother raised her sword and charged.

“Aye!”

Her retainers leapt past her, slashing furiously at the assassins.