HCT – Chapter 70 Li Mu’s Wine in the Altar

All the cotton had been fully processed. The King of Qin issued an edict to lavishly reward Lin Zhi, who had presented the seeds, and Zhu Xiang, who had cultivated the cotton. At the same time, the farmers of the Mohist and agricultural clans were also rewarded. Many from both the Mohist and farming families were granted noble titles, and the status of the two families in the state of Qin was finally stabilized.

They wanted to hand the leadership position over to Zhu Xiang, but Zhu Xiang shook his head.

“I don’t want to be tied down,” Zhu Xiang half-joked. “Look, I am a direct disciple of Xunzi, and I don’t even fully join the Confucian school… ow!”

Xunzi sharply gave Zhu Xiang a smack on the head.

Ying Zheng looked up at his uncle’s head and thought to himself: if his uncle’s head keeps getting exercised like this, wouldn’t it become harder than a shield?

Since Zhu Xiang said this, the two families had no choice but to drop the matter.

After the cotton harvest, Zhu Xiang had a brief period of free time.

At that time, he loved to go mountain climbing and would gather some strange plants from the mountains along the way.

Upon reaching the mountaintop, Zhu Xiang would always sit for a while on a stone facing east, staring into the distance, lost in thought—no one knew what he was thinking about.

When the weather was good, Ying Zheng would also go mountain climbing with Zhu Xiang to exercise.

The chubby little boy sat in Zhu Xiang’s arms, curiously asking his uncle what he was looking at.

Zhu Xiang smiled, “Nothing in particular.”

Ying Zheng asked, “Then what are you thinking about, Uncle? Are you worried about Grandpa Lian and Uncle Li in Zhao?”

Now that Ying Zheng had more teachers, he called Li Mu “Uncle Li” instead of “teacher.”

However, when they met, the sweet-tongued chubby boy would still jump into Uncle Li’s arms and obediently say, “Teacher, Zheng’er misses you.”

Being shamelessly spoiled by talented people is an innate gift of all wise rulers. Besides, he was still young, so he didn’t need to be shy.

Zhu Xiang patted Ying Zheng’s head: “A little bit.”

Ying Zheng frowned and said, “Uncle, I’ve thought for a long time but still can’t understand why you had Uncle Cai tell Lian Weng and Uncle Li first that you would use a strategy of division?”

Ying Zheng was a child who liked to think independently. After learning about this, he pondered it deeply.

Was it just that his uncle didn’t want Lian Weng and Uncle Li to get angry? But Great Grandfather not only agreed but praised it highly. There must be something else that he didn’t understand.

Ying Zheng originally wanted to wait until he was dreaming so that another version of himself, who had already become Qin Shi Huang, could help think it through. But then he realized that since none of them could find the right answer, was there any difference if he just asked his uncle directly?

Zhu Xiang smiled and said, “My purpose is not only about them.”

He carefully explained to Ying Zheng the scheme that was essentially an open yet covert strategy.

After Lian Po and Li Mu learned of all this, along with their own “self-rescue,” those in Zhao familiar with them certainly found out as well. Birds of a feather flock together, and people tend to associate in groups. Those who knew Lian Po and Li Mu in Zhao were already among the capable and upright officials. This was not just their act of self-preservation, but also a test for Zhao and the King of Zhao.

“If Lord Lian and Li Mu entered Qin only because of a stratagem to sow discord, then any mistakes they make would mostly harm Qin,” Zhu Xiang smiled, “But if Lord Lian and Li Mu entered Qin with full knowledge of the situation, then their disappointment with Zhao would outweigh their hatred for Qin.”

Although Qin and Zhao had fought many battles and suffered countless casualties, in this chaotic era, the ordinary people who died in the wars did not become the source of hatred between the two states.

Supported by Zhu Xiang, Ying Zheng lifted his little face to look at his uncle’s smile. Lian Po and Li Mu are disappointed in Zhao; those Zhao scholars who respect them would also be disappointed. The prestige that King Huiwen left for Zhao would completely collapse, causing Zhao to rapidly weaken from within, right?

“Uncle, you’re amazing,” Ying Zheng said, holding onto Zhu Xiang’s arm.

Zhu Xiang kept smiling, “Mm.”

Then he looked up again, continuing to gaze eastward. Ying Zheng followed his uncle’s gaze toward the east.

He wanted to ask if Uncle was only “a little worried” about Lian Po and Li Mu, then was there another reason for looking east? But for some reason, he didn’t want to ask. He just wanted to quietly nestle in his uncle’s arms, watching the clouds roll and unfold across the sky, bathed in glowing sunset light.

“Zheng’er, it’s time to go down the mountain.”

“Uncle, carry me!”

“Sigh, alright.”

Taking advantage while he could still carry the little chubby boy, Zhu Xiang let Ying Zheng sit on his shoulders and slowly descended the mountain with his wooden staff.

Back home, Zichu teased Zhu Xiang, saying Zhu Xiang’s strong body was built from carrying Zheng’er around.

Zhu Xiang immediately lifted Ying Zheng onto Zichu’s shoulders: “You’re right, so now you carry Zheng’er every day to exercise. Given time, you’ll be as strong as me.”

After saying that, he rolled up his sleeves, showing off his well-defined arm muscles.

Lin Zhi, who was munching on white-cut chicken, put down the chicken wing, wiped his hands roughly on his clothes, and rolled up his sleeves to show off his muscular arms as well.

Zichu: “……”

Ying Zheng hugged his father’s head and giggled like a little hen.

“The Lord of Pingyuan and the Lord of Pingyang have both been placed under house arrest,” Lian Yuan reported.

Lian Po wiped the dust off his armor and asked, “Has the Qin envoy already entered Zhao? Who is it?”

Lian Yuan said, “Yes, the envoy is Lou Huan.”

Lian Po paused, then smiled bitterly: “Lou Huan is really tough.”

Lou Huan was a senior minister during King Wuling of Zhao’s time, and he had somehow survived even after his lord, King Huiwen of Zhao, had passed away. Lian Po knew that when Lou Huan learned that King Wuling had died of starvation, he cursed those responsible, hoping they would share the same miserable fate as his lord.

Originally, Lian Po thought Lou Huan’s curses were aimed at Gongzi Cheng and Li Dui, but now he wondered if the curses also included his own lord.

“The Lou family always believed that Lou Huan’s actions were for the benefit of the Lou clan, just working from inside and outside. But Lou Huan probably simply hated the lord and his bloodline,” Lian Po, who previously couldn’t see this clearly, now no longer wanted to fight. His passionate blood had cooled, and suddenly his mind became clear when dealing with political affairs.

The image of Lin Xiangru appeared in his mind. Seeing himself now, would Lin Xiangru finally be relieved, or still feel sad for him? Lin Xiangru had long been buried, so who could know what he might think?

“Master, shall we enter Handan?” Lian Yuan asked.

Lian Po chuckled, “If we enter, will the Zhao royal family members who are on high alert arrest us for treason? Even if I’m not afraid of death, what good would it do me? I’m afraid I wouldn’t even be allowed near Handan.”

Although Lian Po had become Lord Xinping, he had been stripped of military power, and his attendants had dispersed, just like when he was stripped of military power after the Battle of Changping.

Lian Po had a violent temper and a proud nature and never got along well with his attendants. He wasn’t someone who commanded loyalty through charisma; his attendants were only there for benefits.

Now that he was a lord, anyone with eyes could see his political career was over, so naturally his attendants left again.

Lian Po always knew his own character. His sons had settled down and lived away for years, and he was almost estranged even from his family. No one wanted to be around him.

The only junior who would scold him while tapping his head and stubbornly tend to his wounds was Zhu Xiang.

But even if his family disliked Lian Po, if he rebelled, they would be implicated. If Lian Po gave up his military command and fled abroad, his family would be safe. Monarchs and nobles had an unspoken rule not to harm family members. But rebellion was different, even suspicion could bring disaster.

Lian Yuan did not want his lord to risk the danger of having his entire family wiped out by going to Handan. For Zhao, his lord had ruined his entire reputation in life. Did he now have to sell his life to an incompetent King of Zhao to repay the former king’s kindness?

Since Duke Zhu Xiang is in Qin, and Lord Zheng is also in Qin, even if Master (the lord) goes to Qin without fighting, he will surely live well. He greatly misses the times when he lived with Master and Lord Lin together at Duke Zhu Xiang’s home.

“Cai Ze said it’s an open strategy — and it really is an open strategy,” Lian Po sighed.

“Right now, all I know is that the Lord of Pingyuan and the Lord of Pingyang have been placed under house arrest. I don’t know if this is an order from the King of Zhao or from the Zhao royal family. We dare not act rashly and can only passively wait for the king’s edict. But with both lords under house arrest, the outcome is almost certainly sealed.”

He put down his armor, stood up, stretched his body, and said despondently, “Pack your things. Prepare to enter Qin.”

“Yes!” Lian Yuan could hardly hide his excitement.

Watching Lian Yuan running and jumping around, and the other servants suddenly cheerful as well, Lian Po’s mouth twitched; the despair on his face nearly cracked. Am I the only one who doesn’t want to leave Zhao?!

When Lian Po ordered the servants to pack, Li Mu was drinking. He drank jar after jar, and his family stayed outside the door, afraid to come in and persuade him.

Li Mu’s news from Handan was slower than Lian Po’s. Cai Ze had specifically used Qin’s intelligence network to promptly inform Li Mu about the house arrest of the Lords of Pingyuan and Pingyang, and the joyous welcome the Qin envoy received in Handan.

For the first time, Li Mu had the urge to draw his sword and chop Cai Ze.

Drinking spoils things; the camp forbids alcohol. Although this ban was mostly empty talk for generals, Li Mu always set an example—except during celebrations or morale boosts, he never drank in the camp.

Now, jar after jar of wine poured down his throat, yet he sadly realized that despite his strong tolerance, he was drunk but still completely clear-headed.

“Zhu Xiang, oh Zhu Xiang, even if Zhao sold you out, do you want me and Lord Lian to relive your pain?”

The wine he drank turned to tears that would not stop.

“No, how could it be your fault? You only told Lord Lian and me that if we stayed in Zhao, we would either be sold out or killed by Zhao. You’re not harming us; you’re afraid that we would be harmed…”

Li Mu cried helplessly like a child.

On the battlefield against the Xiongnu, no matter how many hardships or injuries he endured, he had never felt helpless.

He desperately wished Cai Ze was lying to him. But the moment he first saw Cai Ze’s message, he knew that even if Cai Ze was hiding something, it was likely to shield him from even harsher truths.

In another timeline, Li Mu was not only a general but also a prime minister. He was skilled in warfare and had notable political achievements.

In this timeline, he was close to Zhu Xiang and Cai Ze, received teachings from Lian Po, Lin Xiangru, and Xunzi, and was smarter and more perceptive than his counterpart in the other timeline. So he guessed what Cai Ze had hidden.

It was just some petty squabbles among the Zhao royal family over power and profit.

Those people probably thought that the great merits made by Lord Lian and himself blocked their chance to divide power when Zhao was weak.

Zhao’s weakening not only invited other states to carve it up but also gave the internal royals and nobles opportunities, just like the Tian family replacing the Jin in the Partition of Jin.

Li Mu could even imagine their sneering faces and their words.

The royals might think, “As long as I can be King of Zhao, a smaller territory doesn’t matter.” The great nobles might think, “The Zhao family became kings because of the Partition of Jin. Why not have two, three, or four families partition Zhao, so they can also be kings?”

Zhao’s fate didn’t matter, and the commoners were as lowly as ants. Whether it was Li Mu blocking the Xiongnu or Lord Lian stealing the Yan people to alleviate Zhao’s famine, to them, these were just obstacles preventing them from gaining more power and higher status.

If it weren’t for Zhu Xiang, Li Mu might have still held onto some hope, thinking Zhao wouldn’t be so foolish.

But he was already abandoned by Zhao. After his great achievements, he was almost killed by the king. Now he had come to the same point as Zhu Xiang. Was he just going to wait for death?

Li Mu finished the last drop of wine and refused to have the servants bring more.

He sat on the ground, holding his head and sobbing.

Li Mu’s father had died fighting on Zhao’s northern border, and many of his elders and relatives had also died on the northern frontier during the Warring States period.

His mother was still alive but had grown frail and aged from the harsh northern environment.

Leaning on her cane, she shakily walked behind her sobbing son.

She set down her cane, squatted with effort, and held her strong son in her thin arms.

“Mu’er, go to Qin,” Li Mu’s mother said. “Our family has fought the Xiongnu for generations. Going to Qin is still fighting the Xiongnu, no difference.”

Li Mu choked up, “But…”

She interrupted, “No buts. Your mother and the Li clan agreed: those who want to stay, stay to keep some roots for the Li family. Those who want to go to Qin go with you, and your mother will go with you too.”

Li Mu looked at his mother in disbelief.

She smiled, “Though your mother is old, I can still manage to travel far. I’ve never left Yanmen Commandery in my life. I want to see farther places. And Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er you speak of—I want to see them too. Mu’er, come with your mother to Qin, alright?”

She loosened her embrace. Li Mu stumbled, turned around, knelt and kowtowed to her, sobbing uncontrollably, “Yes, mother.”

She stroked her son’s hair, her eyes full of fear, guilt, determination, and relief.

Her husband had told her before he died to raise and educate Li Mu well, so Li Mu could continue to serve Zhao loyally.

But she had been selfish.

Generals might die on the battlefield, but she could not bear to see her son die in dirty schemes.

Though the Li family were warriors, Yanmen Commandery was harsh, and they couldn’t marry into well-born families. Though she was a scholar’s daughter, she worked the land and wove cloth herself; their status wasn’t much better than commoners with land.

Maybe it was her lack of knowledge and experience. Zhu Xiang was the first great man she knew willing to die for saving the common people. So she went against her husband’s last wish and hoped her son would accept Zhu Xiang’s invitation to enter Qin.

Child, go to Qin. Go to Qin. Even Duke Zhu Xiang is in Qin.