HCT – Chapter 56 Steamed Oranges with Cane Sugar

Before entering Qin, Zhu Xiang had thoroughly studied its legal system. Just reading those laws made his skin crawl with unease.

The philosophy of Legalism held that all human behavior could be corrected through law and punishment. As long as the penalties were harsh enough and the statutes detailed enough, everyone could become a sage.

But in modern times, anyone familiar with law understands: the law is a bottom line. If you try to regulate every detail of life through legal code, the outcome will never be good.

For instance, Qin law mandated punishment for failing to intervene in emergencies—but it never accounted for what if a passerby didn’t realize help was needed, or if the assailant was overwhelmingly stronger, or if someone helped and then got falsely accused. What should be done in these situations?

In the end, Qin’s excessively meticulous laws didn’t just make citizens too afraid to leave their homes—since stepping outside might inadvertently violate a law—they also risked becoming tools for the powerful to oppress the weak. All it took was someone well-versed in Qin law and granted a sliver of enforcement authority to easily entrap commoners into breaking the law.

After hearing Zhu Xiang’s thoughts, Zichu fell silent, deep in thought.

But no matter how he mulled it over, he couldn’t find a way to resolve the issues Zhu Xiang raised.

Should they make the laws even more detailed? But how could any enforcer know exactly what happened in each situation? And officials didn’t have the energy to scrutinize every word and deed of the people.

“What if we reward but don’t punish?” Lin Zhi suggested. “Leave moral matters to be guided by morality. The law should only punish serious offenses. If we legislate every action and word of the people, officials will be overwhelmed, losing sight of what matters most. Governing the people is like herding sheep—just keep them within lush pasture. Why control which blade of grass each one eats?”

Zhu Xiang teased, “Lin Li, don’t tell me next you’re going to quote: ‘To govern a great nation is like cooking a small fish.’ Or: ‘I take no action and the people transform of themselves. I love tranquility and the people become upright. I have no business and the people grow rich. I have no desires and the people become simple.’”

Lin Zhi clasped his hands behind his back and grinned, “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do,” Zhu Xiang said. “Those are all from the Dao De Jing. But actually, after unifying the realm, that really is the right way.”

Lin Zhi looked surprised. “You actually agree?”

Zhu Xiang nodded. “The people have just endured the chaos of war—they need time to recover. Now is the time to promote farming and weaving, to encourage rest and recovery. Aside from essential infrastructure projects, the state should levy as few taxes and conscript as lightly as possible. Only then can it win the people’s trust. If the people enjoy a full generation of peace, even if someone later rises in rebellion, the masses will naturally resent the rebel. That’s how a dynasty’s legitimacy is secured.”

Zichu asked, “Zhu Xiang, are you saying the legitimacy of a dynasty lies with the people, not Heaven?”

“Of course,” Zhu Xiang replied. “If Heaven truly cared, why didn’t it strike down the King of Zhao with lightning? Since Heaven doesn’t concern itself with the lives of the common folk, what does legitimacy have to do with it? Is a strong nation something that’s granted by praying to the heavens?”

At Zhu Xiang’s blunt remark about Heaven not striking the King of Zhao, Zichu coughed to hide his laughter.

Lin Zhi burst out laughing, “You really are Xunzi’s student—‘The operations of Heaven are constant. They do not persist because of Yao, nor perish because of Jie.’”

“Xunzi’s theories are indeed quite progressive,” Zhu Xiang said. “Many Legalist disciples studied under him. I once told His Majesty that a country shouldn’t blindly expand—Xunzi said the same.”

“Really?” Lin Zhi asked curiously. “I’ve never heard that from Xunzi.”

“That’s because he hasn’t compiled his writings yet,” Zhu Xiang replied. “He said: ‘Annexation is easy; consolidation is hard.’ And also: ‘One who can consolidate will certainly be able to annex.’ It’s the same idea I told His Majesty.”

The old King of Qin believed conquest plus indoctrination would make new territories loyal, but Xunzi had already seen through that.

Xunzi said seizing land was easy, but turning it into part of the country was hard. If you couldn’t “consolidate,” the land would be taken back just as easily. So winning hearts was more important than acquiring territory.

And Xunzi’s concept of “winning hearts” differed from that of Confucius or Mencius. The latter valued the shi—scholars and officials—but Xunzi valued the common people.

People often misinterpret the famous saying “water can carry the boat and overturn it” as referring to officials. But Xunzi made it clear: ‘The ruler is the boat; the common people are the water.’ His focus was always on the peasants toiling in the fields, those who bore the brunt of taxes and military service. That’s why he advocated “frugality and enriching the people”—meaning light taxes and corvée, so the people could rest and recover.

That didn’t mean Confucius and Mencius were inferior to Xunzi. Rather, they lived in different times. In their day, those who governed and fought in wars were guoren—members of the state elite, the equivalent of the Warring States’ shi. But by the time of Xunzi, reforms had swept the land, and now it was the common people who shouldered both tax and military burdens.

After Zhu Xiang’s steady and insightful explanation, Lin Zhi sighed, “Xunzi’s frugality and enriching the people and Laozi’s quiet non-interference—they’re really two sides of the same coin.”

Zhu Xiang nodded. “The sages often disagreed, but they also often reached the same conclusions—because their goals were the same.”

Lin Zhi chuckled, “Then why are you saying all this to Xia Tong? The one who needs to understand post-unification policy is Zheng’er. Xia Tong is just here to help Zheng’er conquer the realm.”

Zichu, who had been enjoying the discussion and learning a lot, clenched his fists tightly.

Meng Wu, who had also been listening with great interest, quietly stepped back to avoid getting caught in any fallout.

He realized these three were incredibly bold—talking as if the fourth-generation King of Qin was already a foregone conclusion. From his initial terror, Meng Wu had gradually grown numb, even finding himself wondering what it would be like when the prince raised by Zhu Xiang, Ying Zheng, ascended the throne.

He didn’t know if he’d live to serve Prince Zheng himself—but surely his two sons would.

Thinking of his sons, Meng Wu’s expression softened.

Zhu Xiang noticed and came over to ask curiously, “Thinking about your sons?”

Meng Wu’s face froze. “Lord Zhu Xiang, can you read minds?”

At least he wasn’t calling him Lord Changping anymore—progress.

“No, your face just looked too gentle,” Zhu Xiang said. “Surely you’re not smiling because Xia Tong and Lin Li are squabbling like three-year-olds and you find it heartwarming?”

Meng Wu’s face twisted like he’d swallowed a mosquito.

Zhu Xiang, knowing the tragedy of Meng Wu’s son dying alongside Fusu in the future, decided to probe. “I heard you have a son named Meng Tian who’s quite the warrior?”

“Meng family’s full of warriors,” Meng Wu said proudly. “Tian’er just carries on the family tradition. Yi’er’s the talented one.”

Seeing Meng Wu’s glowing pride, Zhu Xiang realized he’d found a way to get the man talking. He immediately pressed for more stories about Meng Tian and Meng Yi—and Meng Wu finally began to open up, talking endlessly about his sons like any proud father.

Before long, he was sharing their embarrassing childhood moments: like how Meng Tian would fall asleep reading anything that wasn’t a military text, or how Meng Yi always tried to cut corners during training. The two boys thought they were being clever, hiding it from their grandfather and father—but Meng Ao and Meng Wu had been watching their antics in silence the whole time.

In the spirit of mutual embarrassment, Zhu Xiang shared plenty of blackmail material on Zheng’er as well.

Zheng’er was diligent in both study and martial arts—but he always mumbled criticisms to himself while reading. Once Xunzi overheard and made him write those comments down. Zheng’er had thrown a tantrum, rolling on the floor to avoid it.

As for martial arts, since Zheng’er was small and delicate, they didn’t push him hard—just enough to keep fit. But Zheng’er always fancied himself strong and loved to challenge the family dog… only to get pinned down every time.

“Zheng’er really loved our old yellow dog. When it passed away, he solemnly posthumously named it ‘General Dog,’” Zhu Xiang said. “I’ve actually written down all of Zheng’er’s childhood stories. I’m going to give them to him as a gift once he becomes King of Qin.”

Meng Wu broke into a cold sweat.

Was Zhu Xiang trying to get himself executed…? Well, no—Zhu Xiang truly had no fear of being wiped out by a king.

Meng Wu was moved. “Maybe I should write down the stories of those two brothers and give it to them when they start their own families.”

Zhu Xiang wholeheartedly agreed. “They’ll definitely be touched. The fact that we remember every little thing from their childhood shows just how much we love them.”

In modern times, when children get married, parents often put together slideshows of photos from their childhood to show the guests—what Zhu Xiang was doing was the same in essence.

He wanted to document every little moment of their lives, so that when they grew up, he could show it to them and say, I remembered it all.

Zichu and Lin Zhi, having ended their quarrel because of thirst, approached just in time to hear Zhu Xiang and Meng Wu sighing emotionally about how fast children grow up.

The two exchanged a glance, utterly speechless.

Meng Wu’s two children were one thing—they were still in the hair-knotting years, so it was fair to say they were growing fast. But Zheng’er was still a chubby little lump. Yet judging by Zhu Xiang’s tone, it was like Zheng’er was already on the verge of adulthood.

When Zheng’er actually came of age, would Zhu Xiang cry as though he were marrying off a daughter?

“If you miss Zheng’er that much, how about heading back now?” said Zichu. “I’m sure he misses you too.”

Lin Zhi added, “Zheng’er has no idea I’m coming. I’ll hide under a cloak and give him a good scare.”

Zhu Xiang said, “The work I’ve completed should be enough to fulfill the King’s task. Let’s head back.”

He really did miss home—missed Xue and Zheng’er.

After Zhu Xiang left Xianyang, the mischievous streak in young Ying Zheng quickly diminished.

He became calm and precocious almost overnight. Without much help from Cai Ze, he managed to assist his aunt in managing all household affairs.

Fan Ju and Bai Qi observed Ying Zheng, growing more astonished the more they watched.

The King of Qin and Crown Prince Zhu were also curious, circling around Ying Zheng constantly. Especially since the King didn’t like to delegate authority to the Crown Prince, Zhu—now unusually idle—had even distanced himself from the women in the back courtyard to closely observe Ying Zheng’s every move.

After arriving in Qin, Zhu Xiang no longer hid anything—he replaced all their writing materials with paper.

He also made an abacus. He taught Ying Zheng bead arithmetic, Indian numerals renamed as “Zheng’er digits,” arithmetic symbols from later eras, and basic formulas—he taught it all at once.

Ying Zheng was incredibly bright. Though still a round little ball physically, once he memorized the multiplication table, ordinary addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division posed no difficulty at all. Zhu Xiang then had Cai Ze teach him how to manage accounts.

Zhu Xiang insisted, “A ruler must manage the nation’s finances. So Zheng’er should start by handling the household budget. One must be able to sweep a room before one can sweep the world.”

And so Ying Zheng became the household’s little accountant.

“Zheng’er, this abacus is more convenient than counting rods. Can you teach Grandfather how to use it?” teased Crown Prince Zhu.

Ying Zheng, serious-faced, said, “Sure. But please wait until I finish this account. One must not be distracted during work.”

The Crown Prince laughed. “Very well. Zheng’er, don’t you get tired doing all this accounting every day? Want to go out and play with Grandfather?”

Ying Zheng replied, “I do want to go out and play, but I need to finish this first. I have to help Aunt manage the household before Uncle comes back.”

The Crown Prince said, “You can hire someone to do it.”

Ying Zheng shook his head. “Uncle said governing the state starts with managing the household. If devious servants can’t deceive me, then corrupt ministers won’t be able to either.”

Cai Ze smiled to himself. Though Zhu Xiang made sense, he knew Zhu Xiang too well—he was absolutely just playing with Zheng’er.

Zhu Xiang probably never imagined that after leaving home, Zheng’er would actually take over as the family bookkeeper.

But if Zheng’er did a good job, knowing Zhu Xiang’s easygoing attitude, he might really hand over full control of the household finances to Zheng’er, letting him manage it together with Lady Xue—both to train the boy and ease her burden.

The family business was growing rapidly, and it was getting hard for Lady Xue to manage alone. Cai Ze himself would soon move out. If Zhu Xiang couldn’t find a trustworthy steward, he might just leave it all to Zheng’er.

Zhu Xiang always called Lin Zhi unorthodox, but truth be told, he himself was the most unorthodox of all.

The King of Qin stood by the window, eavesdropping, with a look that was both gentle and helpless.

He stepped away and said to Fan Ju and Bai Qi beside him, “Zhu Xiang spoils Zheng’er, but also trusts him. Quite the contradiction.”

Normally, when Zhu Xiang dealt with Zheng’er, it was like the boy couldn’t even walk yet—he seemed to want to hold him all day. But at the same time, Zhu Xiang treated him like a grown man—he took Zheng’er’s opinions seriously and entrusted him with household affairs.

Zheng’er was just a child with a hair knot!

“I thought that after Zhu Xiang left, even with the Crown Prince around, Zheng’er would be anxious and frightened. But he’s surprised me so much,” the King said. “His talent far surpasses that of his older brothers.”

Fan Ju smiled. “Confucian, Mohist, and Agriculturalist leaders are all his teachers. Lord Lin and Lord Lian are rare geniuses. And he was raised by Zhu Xiang. It’s only natural he’s this gifted.”

The King stroked his beard and laughed. “Even if I tried personally, I couldn’t assemble such teachers. Lord Wu’an, are Xu Ming and Xiang He returning soon?”

Bai Qi replied, “They’re already on their way back to Qin. They might arrive in Xianyang earlier than Lord Zichu and Zhu Xiang.”

The King chuckled. “Zhu Xiang’s still out inspecting farmlands in Qin?”

Bai Qi said, “He should be back soon. According to news from Meng Wu, Zhu Xiang brought back cotton seeds and wants to plant them before summer.”

The King sighed. “Cotton… I didn’t expect Lord Lin to send me such a generous gift.”

Fan Ju felt a twinge of jealousy but joked, “Isn’t the true gift Lord Lin gave Your Majesty… Lin Zhi?”

The King laughed heartily. “Exactly! Lin Zhi! Since Zhao won’t grant Lord Lin a title, I shall bestow one upon his son! What do you think of the title Lord of Handan?”

Fan Ju burst out laughing, and even Bai Qi couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Better give Handan to Zichu,” the King said with a laugh. “He can fight for his own fiefdom. Once Lord Lian passes, Qin can move its troops.”

Lian Po’s sacrifice of reputation to save the people of Zhao had moved the King of Qin from dismissively calling him by name to respectfully calling him “Lord Lian.”

Even Bai Qi began to acknowledge this Zhao general.

Bai Qi had never respected generals who could only fight. But those who fought with conviction—he saw as equals.

“Everyone around Zhu Xiang is a rare gem. That Li Mu is quite interesting too,” said the King. “Mister Fan, do you have any way of bringing Li Mu to Qin as well?”

Fan Ju replied, “Right now Li Mu lacks fame—it would be hard. But once he earns some merit, it’ll be easier to pressure him into defecting. The people around King Zhao wouldn’t want Zhu Xiang’s friend to rise too high.”

The King nodded. But I am different. Zhu Xiang could bring all his friends—Qin had plenty of official posts to offer.

As Bai Qi predicted, Xu Ming and Xiang He arrived in Xianyang a few days before Zhu Xiang.

When the King told them, both were dumbfounded.

Zhu Xiang, that honest child, was really going to finish the King’s assigned task before coming back?

“I’m terribly worried now,” the King said, laughing. “The governors of Shu and Chu have all sent memorials requesting Zhu Xiang to come guide their farming.”

Xu Ming said, “I’m willing to accompany Lord Zhu Xiang.”

Xiang He immediately said, “So am I!”

The King waved them off with a smile. “I won’t let Zhu Xiang leave Xianyang for now. He’s suffered too much. Let him rest a year or two and recover his health.”

Xu Ming and Xiang He were alarmed. “Lord Zhu Xiang is ill?”

The King replied, “You’ll see when you meet him.”

Nervous, the two waited for Zhu Xiang’s return. When they went to greet him with the King outside the city, they saw Zhu Xiang’s head full of white hair—and burst into tears.

Zhu Xiang had been delighted to see them but was startled and flustered when they started crying. He quickly tried to comfort them.

The two clung to him, crying uncontrollably.

Zhu Xiang deeply regretted not dyeing his hair with ink before coming back.

His mood had more or less recovered on the way back, but his hair didn’t cooperate at all—no matter what he did, it simply wouldn’t go back to black.

He suspected that his hair turning white wasn’t due to emotional strain but rather an incompatibility with the environment in Qin, possibly a deficiency in trace elements. Once he got home, he planned to eat more walnuts and sesame seeds to restore his thick, glossy black hair as soon as possible.

Hearing Zhu Xiang spouting such nonsense, Xu Ming and Xiang He finally stopped crying. Zhu Xiang let out a breath of relief.

The King of Qin said with a sinister tone, “So it turns out Lord Changping simply isn’t acclimated to Qin. Qin is indeed remote—it’s been hard on you.”

Awkward—he’d forgotten the King was still there!

Zhu Xiang hurried to cover his tracks. “Your Majesty has ruled over this remote Qin and made it so strong—it’s truly a great feat. From now on, I will devote myself to Your Majesty with all my heart and soul, striving to help Qin become even more prosperous.”

Hearing Zhu Xiang’s flattery, the King of Qin couldn’t keep a straight face and laughed. “Alright, go home now. Zheng’er caught a chill—Xue Ji is taking care of him. You should get back quickly.”

Zhu Xiang immediately grew anxious. With the King’s permission to ride within the city, he left Zichu and Lin Zhi behind and hurried home.

Even someone as thick-skinned as Lin Zhi felt a little embarrassed. Zhu Xiang, couldn’t you at least introduce me to the King before running off? Is this how you treat your brother? Have you forgotten the tension between the King and my father?

“You’re Lin Xiangru’s son? You’ve worked hard.” Although Zhu Xiang had left, there was no way the King would neglect Lin Zhi. He took Lin Zhi’s hands in his own, his face filled with emotion and gratitude—enough to give Lin Zhi goosebumps.

Zichu silently took a step to the side and stood next to Crown Prince Zhu. Lin Zhi didn’t even realize he didn’t need Zhu Xiang’s introduction. He had no idea just how highly the King valued his father. That alone was enough to ensure his protection in Qin.

Zhu Xiang rushed home. Despite having caught a cold, little Ying Zheng insisted on sitting at the doorstep wrapped in his blanket, waiting for his uncle’s return.

As soon as Zhu Xiang dismounted, Ying Zheng tossed away the blanket and ran straight at him.

“Zheng’er!”

Zhu Xiang caught the little ball of energy, spun him around in his arms, and asked, “Did you miss Uncle?”

“I did!” Ying Zheng spread his arms wide and spun along with Zhu Xiang like a little child.

“Alright now, don’t drop Zheng’er.” Seeing the smile on Zhu Xiang’s face, Xue finally relaxed.  She had worried that Zhu Xiang might be overwhelmed with grief after paying respects to Lord Lin. Seeing him smiling was such a relief.

Zhu Xiang set Zheng’er down and hugged Xue briefly. “I’m home.”

“Welcome back,” Xue said, blushing. “I heard from His Majesty that Lord Lin’s son has also come to Qin?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “Yes. Sigh, so the King already told you? Lin Li’s little prank won’t work now.”

As he spoke, he picked up Ying Zheng again, who was still clinging to his sleeve.

“Uncle Lin had a bad idea?” Ying Zheng asked, arms around Zhu Xiang’s neck.

Zhu Xiang said, “Lin Li wanted to wear a cloak and kidnap you to give you a scare.”

Ying Zheng’s little face fell. “Is Uncle Lin younger than me or something?”

Zhu Xiang replied seriously, “He just might be.”

Ying Zheng buried his face in Zhu Xiang’s neck and rubbed around. “So childish.”

Zhu Xiang nodded firmly. “Exactly!”

After a while, Ying Zheng murmured, “I wish Grandpa Lian and Teacher could come to Qin too.”  Zhu Xiang said, “I’ll think of a way.”

Ying Zheng looked up in surprise. “Uncle is going to try?”

As Zhu Xiang walked into the house carrying him, he said, “Lord Lian is going to Yanguo to seize grain. He may have to sack a city.”

“Huh?” Ying Zheng was confused. Why was Uncle changing the subject?

Zhu Xiang explained, “It’s not that Lord Lian wants to sack the city, but he’s going to take away grain that the Yan people need to survive. They’ll fight him to the death. The result will be a massacre.”

Xue’s eyes dimmed. “Lord Lian is known for strict discipline. How could this happen…”

Ying Zheng, remembering a dream of his, said with a pout, “Lord Lian is shifting the famine from Zhao to Yan.”

Zhu Xiang patted his head. “To the world, it’ll seem like Zhao people robbed and killed Yan people. But to me, the people of this world are all one family.”

Saying it’s between Zhao and Yan might not hit hard—but when you realize most of Zhao and Yan are both in Hebei…

Hebei people killing Hebei people over famine?

The seven states are all Huaxia—our people killing our own. As long as the world isn’t unified, such things will never stop.

“What are you going to do?” Ying Zheng looked a little worried. “Don’t take any risks!”

Zhu Xiang shook his head. “I won’t take risks. I just… I might make Lord Lian and your teacher very upset.”

“You’re going to bring them to Qin?” Ying Zheng asked. Zhu Xiang nodded.

Ying Zheng patted his little chest. “Go ahead, Uncle. If they scold you, I’ll go cry and throw a tantrum outside their doors. I don’t believe Grandpa Lian and Teacher can ignore me!”

Xue chuckled behind her sleeve. “That’s a good idea. They really do spoil Zheng’er.”

Zhu Xiang rubbed Ying Zheng’s face. “Then I’ll be relying on you.”

Ying Zheng kept patting his chest. “Leave it to me—cough cough cough.”

“Still coughing? Uncle will make something tasty for you.” Zhu Xiang set him down in a hurry and, not even changing out of his clothes, rushed to the kitchen to make candied steamed tangerines.

Tangerines and pomelos were specialties of Chu. After Qin conquered Bashu and burned the ancestral tombs of the King of Chu, these southern fruits became common on the royal table in Qin.

Since the King and Crown Prince Zhu often stayed at Zhu Xiang’s home, his household had also begun enjoying these imported fruits. But in this era, tangerines and pomelos weren’t very sweet and had lots of seeds. Zhu Xiang spent a long time picking them out before steaming.

After finishing the tangerines, he made a pot of ginger tea.

Ying Zheng quickly ate all the candied tangerines, but he pinched his nose and refused to drink the ginger tea. “No way!” he shouted, kicking his short legs and running off.

“Drink the ginger tea and you’ll get better faster. It’s not even that bad!” Zhu Xiang chased after him with the cup in hand. “Xue, stop him!”

Xue stood by with her arms folded, laughing as she watched the two chase each other around.

Although Ying Zheng had short legs, he still ran much faster than Zhu Xiang, who was carrying ginger tea.

He led Zhu Xiang in circles around the courtyard, shaking his round little head vigorously. “I don’t want it! It tastes bad!”

“Good medicine tastes bitter—this isn’t even medicine. Zheng’er, don’t be so stubborn!” Zhu Xiang chased after him, running in circles too.

When the King of Qin, holding Lin Zhi’s hands tightly and refusing to let go, entered Zhu Xiang’s home with Lin Zhi—who was soaked in sweat even though it was just a short walk—Ying Zheng, full of energy despite being sick, was still running laps.

Zhu Xiang was already gasping for breath, but Ying Zheng showed no sign of slowing down.

Zichu whispered to his father, “Father, is Zheng’er really sick?”

Crown Prince Zhu said, “Maybe now that Zhu Xiang’s back, Zheng’er’s illness has been cured?”

Lin Zhi cautiously tried to pull his hand free, but the King of Qin held on tightly and wouldn’t let go.

Lin Zhi said helplessly, “Zhu Xiang, what are you doing?” Help me, quick!

Zhu Xiang, panting, replied, “Come help me catch Zheng’er! He refuses to drink the ginger tea!”

Ying Zheng jumped behind the King of Qin to hide. “Not drinking! It tastes bad!”

Lin Zhi asked, “Your Majesty, should I carry Zheng’er over?”

The King of Qin said loudly, “If Zheng’er doesn’t want to drink it, then he doesn’t have to. He already takes medicine daily—ginger tea isn’t necessary.”

Zhu Xiang was speechless. “Your Majesty, Zheng’er can even drink bitter medicine. Why can’t he drink ginger tea? Don’t spoil him.”

Ying Zheng peeked out from behind the King of Qin and said defiantly, “Nope!”

Uncle’s home, so I’m going to be willful—bleh!

Zhu Xiang and Zichu exchanged a look.

Zichu turned his face away from Zhu Xiang.

The King has already said Zheng’er doesn’t need to drink it—how could I go against His Majesty?

Zhu Xiang was exasperated. “Your Majesty…”

The King of Qin said firmly, “Don’t be afraid, Zheng’er. If you don’t want to drink it, you don’t have to!”

Ying Zheng peeked out again. “Exactly! Not drinking!”

Zhu Xiang couldn’t help but laugh out of frustration.

How long had he been gone? The King of Qin was already turning into an overly doting great-grandfather? If Zheng’er ended up spoiled, he’d silently curse the king for it.

“Alright, no tea then,” Zhu Xiang said. “I had planned to make cream frosted treats for Zheng’er once he got better. But if Zheng’er doesn’t want to recover quickly, then I’ll just eat them with Lin Li, Xia Tong, and Cai Ze while Zheng’er watches. How’s that sound?”

Cai Ze: “??” He had no interest in joining this childish game.

Lin Zhi happily chimed in, “Sounds great! What else can Zheng’er not eat? We’ll all eat in front of him together!”

Ying Zheng lowered his head and rammed Lin Zhi like a little bull.

The King of Qin finally let go of Lin Zhi’s hand, and Lin Zhi quickly picked up Ying Zheng and tossed him over his shoulder, dancing around. “Zheng’er, did you miss Uncle Lin?”

Ying Zheng hugged Lin Zhi’s head tightly. Though his eyes and mouth were curved like crescent moons in a smile, he still insisted, “Nope. Didn’t miss you at all.”

“Oh? If you didn’t miss me, I won’t let you down!” Lin Zhi jumped around, “I’ll spin you till you’re dizzy!”

The King of Qin: “……” This guy doesn’t seem like Lin Xiangru’s son at all. I’m still standing here—how can he just start jumping around like this?

Zichu turned his face away again.

Lin Li was too embarrassing. How could he act like this in front of the King? Was he not afraid of death?

“Hold Zheng’er tight!” Zhu Xiang approached. “Got you now! Time to drink!”

Ying Zheng pouted. “Don’t wanna.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Cream frosted treats?”

Ying Zheng, puffing his cheeks in frustration, snatched the now lukewarm ginger tea from Zhu Xiang’s hands, used Lin Zhi’s head as a little table, and drank it slowly in small sips. After finishing, he knocked the cup on Lin Zhi’s head and threw a mini tantrum.

Lin Zhi played along, chanting “dong dong dong” like Ying Zheng was playing a drum on his head.

The King of Qin looked at Zichu and gave him a questioning look—Is this man really the son of Lin Xiangru?

I’m right here, you know!

Zichu sighed inwardly and whispered, “Your Majesty, Lin Li studied under Zhuangzi.”

The King’s face fell.

What? That Zhuang Zhou? I wanted Lin Xiangru’s son and disciple, not Zhuangzi’s follower!

“Though Lin Li studied under Zhuangzi, he’s truly gifted,” Zichu defended his friend. “He originally planned to retire into the mountains after his father passed. But Elder Lin wanted him to come to Qin and serve Your Majesty. Though he couldn’t betray Zhao, he still hoped for a unified world. That’s why he sent Lin Li to Qin.”

The King asked with a frown, “So it was for me? Not for Zhu Xiang?”

“If it were just for Zhu Xiang, Lin Li could’ve simply stayed at Zhu Xiang’s home and retired there instead of becoming an official in Qin,” Zichu replied. “In Zhao, Lin Li only held a nominal post. When Zhao’s king made him governor of a prefecture, he quickly resigned and returned home.”

The King was finally appeased. “So he wouldn’t hold office in Zhao but will serve in Qin?”

Zichu said, “Lin Li is very filial. He would obey his father’s wishes.”

The King beamed. Lin Xiangru truly cared about me!

Fan Ju gave a secret smirk. Prince Zichu really knows how to talk—no wonder he managed to escape back to Qin from Zhao.

Bai Qi glanced at Fan Ju and thought he’d need to speak to Zhu Xiang later—have him prepare more gifts to help Lin Zhi curry favor with Ying Hou.

After living with Fan Ju for a while, Bai Qi had come to realize how petty Ying Hou really was.

Luckily, though Ying Hou was petty, as long as you showed him due respect, he’d forgive things quickly.

Bai Qi had finally built a solid relationship with Fan Ju. He no longer feared getting stabbed in the back—but earning that friendship had been more exhausting than relocating the Chu capital.

After playing with Zheng’er, Lin Zhi carried him over to the King of Qin and bowed. “I missed Zheng’er so much I lost my composure. Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” the King chuckled. “If you miss Zheng’er, stay here at Zhu Xiang’s house for now. I’ll find you a residence nearby.”

Lin Zhi knelt in thanks with Zheng’er still on his shoulder. As he bowed, Zheng’er bowed along with him, making the King of Qin burst into laughter.

Ying Zheng, all smiles, clung tightly to Lin Zhi’s head. Even when Zhu Xiang urged him to come down, he refused.

As soon as his uncle came home, the mature and precocious Zheng turned back into the playful, childish Zheng’er. And with Lin Zhi here, he became even more mischievous.

Zichu rubbed his forehead—he was getting a headache just watching.

But Crown Prince Zhu actually preferred Zheng’er like this. Compared to unnaturally mature children, he liked mischievous ones—it was easier to get along.

After Zhu Xiang had left, Zheng’er became far too mature for his age, and it had honestly creeped Crown Prince Zhu out a little.

He finally understood why that foolish woman had abandoned Zheng’er. A child who’s too clever and mature can really scare people.

But seeing that no one around him seemed afraid of Zheng’er’s odd behavior, Crown Prince Zhu had no choice but to convince himself—Zheng’er isn’t strange at all. All bright children are like this.

And with enough self-hypnosis, Crown Prince Zhu actually succeeded in convincing himself.

Now, whenever he saw his other grandsons, he was always dissatisfied. He didn’t expect them to be as smart as Zheng’er—half as smart would do.

As a result, he became increasingly strict with his other grandsons, stirring up a lot of jealousy toward Zheng’er in the inner court—but that’s a story for another time.

Upon Zhu Xiang’s return, although the King of Qin said he should rest well, he was already in casual wear, sitting in Zhu Xiang’s home, clearly waiting for a meal.

Crown Prince Zhu had also sent over ingredients and spices, barely eating anything in the morning just so he could feast now that Zhu Xiang was back.

The King and Crown Prince even specifically requested “Lotus Leaf Chicken” and brought fine wine, telling Zhu Xiang to prepare it however he pleased.

Zhu Xiang rubbed his forehead.

He knew that along the way, Meng Wu would’ve reported everything to the King. But for the King to actually request dishes Zhu Xiang had made on the journey—that was both amusing and frustrating.

Is this how you use intelligence reports? He’d thought the King would grab his hand and ask about the political discussions he’d had with Lin Zhi and Zichu.

But the King wasn’t in the mood for politics—he just wanted to eat. So Zhu Xiang had no choice but to change clothes and head to the kitchen.

By this time, winemaking had become quite advanced. People had started using malt sprouts to make fermentation starters, and the ingredients were diverse.

Although the alcohol content only reached ten to twenty percent at most, the flavor was sweet and smooth. Once filtered, the wine wasn’t much different from modern rice wine.

As early as the Western Zhou, winemaking already involved using sweet spring water, sterilizing utensils in boiling water, and other meticulous methods—showing their deep understanding of the craft.

Though the Qin state often issued bans on alcohol for the general public, the King himself had many personal breweries.

While Zhu Xiang had his own “secret recipe” for brewing rice wine, it wasn’t necessarily better than the carefully curated wines from the King’s breweries. What he did have, however, was better quality control.

Plus, Zhu Xiang had other “secret recipes” besides grain wine. Now that he was a noble, he could legally brew and sell alcohol for profit.

While commoners in Qin were banned from trading, nobles were allowed to do business.

After the unification of the six states, even nobles from the former enemy states could engage in commerce, including industries like salt and iron. Qin Shi Huang would exile Qin commoners who dared to do business, yet at the same time praise wealthy businesswomen from Ba and Shu—such contradictions stemmed from this policy.

It was this double standard that left the old Qin people, who had shed blood for unification, increasingly disillusioned. When Liu Bang entered the capital, they defected en masse.