In feudal times, anyone who blocked an army or an official was more or less facing death. That’s why acts like “petitioning on the road” or “intercepting a bridal sedan to lodge a complaint” were often portrayed in operas with great dramatic flair. Those who dared such acts were either facing utter desperation or possessed extraordinary courage.

The laws of Qin were even harsher, yet someone had dared to block an official’s carriage on the road into Shu. Zhu Xiang quickly jumped down to stop the Qin soldiers from executing them on the spot.

As Zhu Xiang had anticipated, the people kneeling to block the carriage were clearly slaves—except for the elderly leader, the rest were gaunt and in rags. They were undoubtedly from a mountain stronghold.

By daring to block the carriage, they were clearly prepared to sacrifice the lives of those now kneeling.

Zhu Xiang let his gaze linger on the slaves for a few seconds before looking away. He had seen too much misery in his life—so much that even the sight of slaves no longer stirred much emotion. That said, he still hurried off the carriage—not out of sentiment, but to prevent needless deaths. Life as a slave might not be easier than death, but these slaves clearly wanted to live.

“Speak. What is it?” Zhu Xiang asked coolly.

The elderly woman in front kowtowed and introduced herself. She was a Qin woman who had married into the mountain stronghold. Though not a noble, she was the daughter of a minor official. Because her family had doted on her, she had learned a few characters. After her husband’s death, she had taken over as the stronghold leader.

They had come to intercept the carriage because a terrible epidemic had broken out in the stronghold. She had heard that Lord Zhu Xiang had bestowed “divine medicine” on another village and had come in hopes of obtaining more.

Given Lord Zhu Xiang’s reputation for saving the people, even if they were punished under Qin law for blocking the way, they believed he would still help the sick.

Zhu Xiang was still wondering what “divine medicine” she meant, but Li Mu’s expression darkened and he unsheathed his sword. Although the old woman’s words had been full of praise for Zhu Xiang, Li Mu instinctively felt a surge of anger.

Zhu Xiang pressed down on Li Mu’s hand and said, “I understand why you’re angry. This is moral blackmail.”

He then explained what moral blackmail meant and turned back to the old woman. “You’re clever. You know scholars value their reputation and cherish their integrity. You deliberately emphasized my love for the people and my willingness to give medicine to save lives, hoping I’d be too concerned about my public image to refuse—even if it meant risking a deadly epidemic.”

The old woman hastily kowtowed again, stammering, “I-I didn’t dare… didn’t mean to…”

“But you already have,” Zhu Xiang said indifferently. “What you failed to consider is that if I really contract an illness because of your stronghold, your entire village will likely be exterminated. I have some confidence in the weight of my identity and status.”

Though he sympathized with someone who had to risk death to seek help, sympathy alone wasn’t enough. He had to protect himself first and ensure that no one could use his kindness against him or those he cared for.

In both his past and current life, Zhu Xiang had suffered too much from moral and status-based coercion. Not just in Zhao—back when he’d gone to the countryside in his previous life, he’d encountered plenty of petty villagers who loved to take advantage.

Zhu Xiang turned to Li Bing and said, “Governor Li, managing epidemics is your duty. I won’t overstep.”

Li Bing nodded respectfully. “Lord Changping, please return to the carriage.”

Zhu Xiang patted Li Mu’s hand again, prompting him to put his sword away, and then turned back to board the carriage.

Li Mu folded his arms in displeasure. Zhu Xiang had already given this old woman a chance, and she still had the gall to try “moral blackmail”? That term was truly apt.

If she had only kowtowed and pleaded for help, without manipulating his conscience, Zhu Xiang might have relented out of soft-heartedness.

But what was this “divine medicine”? Since when did Zhu Xiang have such a thing?

Back in the carriage, Zhu Xiang pulled Ying Zheng—who had half his body hanging out the window—back inside. “It’s dangerous!”

Ying Zheng said, “I thought as soon as Uncle heard about the epidemic, you’d rush over to save people.”

Zhu Xiang tapped him lightly on the forehead. “Do you think your uncle’s a fool? I’m not a doctor. Even if I wanted to save people, I couldn’t. I’d just risk myself for nothing. I value my life, you know.”

Ying Zheng pouted. “Uncle, you’ve never cared about your life.”

Zhu Xiang replied, “I only disregard it when it serves my purpose. Risking life for a goal is called bravery. Wasting life for nothing is called recklessness. Got it?”

“I get it. But do you get it?” Ying Zheng retorted. “You’re not going up that mountain, are you?”

“I’m not,” Zhu Xiang said. “At most, I’ll hear what the epidemic is and give a few suggestions.”

Ying Zheng rolled his eyes dramatically. So someone blocks your carriage and morally blackmails you—and you still want to help them? What happens next time? You’re just encouraging more blackmail! Can’t you give your not-even-six-year-old nephew a break?

“There are so many people sick, starving, or attacked by bandits on this route. Are you planning to stop and help everyone along the way?” he huffed.

Zhu Xiang replied, “If they dare to stop us on the road, it probably means the problem isn’t just personal—it affects an entire village or stronghold. So it’s not just illness—it’s an epidemic; not just hunger—it’s famine; not just robbers—it’s a bandit crisis. And dealing with epidemics, famine, and bandits—that’s precisely the duty of a local official, isn’t it?”

Ying Zheng was momentarily speechless.

Zhu Xiang chuckled. “I only handle what falls within my responsibilities. Anything beyond that—I can’t and won’t touch.”

Ying Zheng rolled his eyes again. This uncle of his dared to scold the King of Qin to his face, and now he claims there are things he wouldn’t dare do?

If Zhu Xiang knew what his nephew was thinking, he would definitely protest loudly: “I’ve never scolded the King of Qin to his face!”

As they chatted idly, waiting for Li Bing to deal with matters outside, Ying Zheng grew thirsty. Zhu Xiang handed him a bamboo flask filled with cool boiled water.

Gulp gulp gulp gulp.

Then Zhu Xiang offered him some pickled plums to chase away the garlicky aftertaste in his mouth.

Smack smack smack smack.

Worried they’d miss mealtime, Zhu Xiang also pulled out some dried meat for his little nephew.

Rustle rustle rustle rustle.

“Want some roasted chestnuts too?” Zhu Xiang asked.

Crunch crunch crunch crunch.

Zhu Xiang looked at his nephew’s chipmunk cheeks, puffed full, and couldn’t help but want to cup his face.

His little Zheng’er would eat anything offered—he was so easy to raise!

Ying Zheng took one last sip of water and patted his belly. “Full!”

Zhu Xiang smiled and gently rubbed his belly as the boy dozed off, nestled in his arms.

After a full meal, drowsiness naturally followed.

While Ying Zheng was fast asleep, the men Li Bing had dispatched finally returned.

He first burned the cloak he wore, washed his hands thoroughly, and only then reported what he had seen to Li Bing.

When he spoke of the villagers being skin and bones with distended, drum-like bellies, Li Bing’s face turned pale. With a sudden “shing,” he drew his sword and pointed it at the kneeling old woman.

“You actually tricked Lord Changping into going to the Water Gu-infested place!”

The old woman’s lips trembled before she covered her face and sobbed. “This humble one only sought medicine. I never meant for the nobles to enter the mountain village.”

“Of course you wouldn’t dare! Luring nobles to a place plagued by the Water Gu—I could burn your entire village to the ground!” Li Bing seethed through gritted teeth.

“The Water Gu disease is nearly untreatable! Instead of seeking help from the gods, you dare block our path? Who told you that Lord Changping has divine medicine?!”

Li Bing began to suspect that this was a conspiracy targeting Zhu Xiang, aiming to provoke those afflicted by the Water Gu to rush his carriage, thereby infecting him with the disease!

And perhaps even Prince Zheng was a target. Could this be tied to the struggle for the throne, a conspiracy within the royal clan?

“Enough. If you keep scaring her, she won’t be able to say anything at all,” Zhu Xiang stepped down from the carriage again, calm upon hearing it was the Water Gu.

“The Water Gu is just schistosomiasis, a parasitic disease transmitted through skin contact with contaminated water or food—not witchcraft. Worshipping gods won’t help. And yes, there is no cure yet—only prevention is effective.”

Li Bing stood dumbfounded. “Huh?!”

The old woman lifted her head in disbelief. “It’s not witchcraft? Not a divine punishment?”

Zhu Xiang replied, “What would witchcraft or divine punishment have to do with me? Didn’t you come to me seeking medicine?”

“I… I…” the old woman stammered.

Zhu Xiang asked, “You didn’t even know if I truly had divine medicine. Why block my path? Forget it, explain later. For now, we need to control the outbreak before schistosomiasis spreads to other areas.”

Zhu Xiang wasn’t surprised at all by the appearance of schistosomiasis.

Back in the early days of the nation’s founding, there had been a nationwide campaign against the disease. At the time, about ten million people were infected, and the high-risk population reached a hundred million.

Considering the population back then, almost the entire south was shrouded in the shadow of the Water Gu disease.

Even after the disease was mostly eradicated, every year the epidemic control department would still send people to rural areas to prevent a resurgence and to regularly exterminate snails—the disease’s intermediate host.

Before entering Shu, Zhu Xiang had already prepared for an educational campaign on schistosomiasis and persuaded Li Bing to initiate a snail extermination campaign across the region.

When the old woman stopped the carriage to ask for medicine, he simply handed the prepared information over to Li Bing.

“I originally planned to speak about this once we reached Chengdu, but who knew politics would find me halfway through the journey?”

Li Bing flipped through the material, utterly speechless. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a series of stunned “ah’s.”

Li Mu couldn’t help but say, “Zhu Xiang, don’t tell me you really have the gift of foresight?”

Zhu Xiang chuckled, “How could that be? The Water Gu is a common illness in the south, especially for those working in rice paddies. Since I plan to teach them how to improve rice farming techniques, naturally I’d also consider how to prevent infection. It’s just like you, Li Mu—before fighting the Xiongnu, you’d definitely study their situation first.”

Li Mu took a deep breath. “That makes sense.”

He glanced at the dazed old woman and said, “She was clearly sent to lure you with a plea for help, yet you’re still seriously trying to save her.”

Zhu Xiang remained silent.

He too wondered if someone was using the infected villagers to harm Zheng’er. Innocent lives needed saving, and this old woman would probably be taken in for questioning.

But the old woman suddenly snapped out of her daze and stammered, “I-I wasn’t lying! I really, truly just wanted divine medicine. The one called garlic! Please, noble lord, see the truth! I only wanted garlic to save someone!”

Zhu Xiang and Li Mu were both stunned. “Huh?”

Even Li Bing’s stutter vanished. “What? Garlic?”

The old woman gestured with her hands, describing, “Yes! Garlic—the divine medicine Lord Changping gave to Qingpian Village and Hongpian Village.”

Zhu Xiang stared blankly for a moment. “Wha—who told you garlic was a divine medicine?”

The old woman said earnestly, “They all say so. That Lord Changping applied garlic on his skin and became immune to all diseases and insects. We… we were desperate and thought maybe garlic could drive away the Water Gu’s evil aura…”

She kowtowed repeatedly. “Please, noble lords, I truly mean no harm! I’ll give up all I have for garlic! My only remaining granddaughter has not yet been infected—perhaps if we get garlic, she’ll be spared. She’s all I have left, just one… only one left… wuuuuu…”

Zhu Xiang, Li Bing, and Li Mu looked at one another.

Was there really no conspiracy, and she just wanted garlic?

“This… Garlic isn’t divine medicine, it’s just…” Zhu Xiang’s expression turned complicated. “Well, applying garlic juice on the skin can repel schistosome larvae… so it is useful, actually.”

Now it was Li Bing and Li Mu’s turn to stare at each other.

Could it be… there really was no plot? The old woman was just utterly desperate, risking everything to beg for garlic?

Li Bing asked, “Lord Zhu Xiang, about the garlic…”

“There’s a little left. But I can’t give too much, or there won’t be any left to plant.” Zhu Xiang said. “Garlic juice works, but it’s not the only treatment. I also brought a herb called Artemisia annua—it’s quite effective too. The climate in Shu should suit its growth well, maybe it even grows wild here.”

He glanced at the old woman, who was nearly sobbing into unconsciousness. “I’ve written everything down in my documents. The governor may copy a copy for them. Sell them some garlic and Artemisia annua seeds—if they can grow it, maybe the next generation can be spared the suffering of the Water Gu.”

Li Bing cupped his hands in salute. “On behalf of the people, I thank you, Lord Zhu Xiang.”

Zhu Xiang helped him up. “There’s no need for thanks. Since I’ve joined you in entering Shu, I am now an official of this land. This is my duty.”

A bit embarrassed, he decided to retreat to his carriage for a while.

He had braced himself for schemes and assassination plots. Yet the dramatic old woman, prepared to die and full of emotional blackmail, had done all this… just to beg for garlic?

Zhu Xiang could practically feel the secondhand embarrassment from head to toe.

Back in the carriage, he sighed heavily.

Ying Zheng, having listened to his uncle’s dilemma, couldn’t understand what he was embarrassed about.

Garlic was rare and precious, wasn’t it? Who aside from his uncle’s circle could even get their hands on it? Not even the kings of the other six states had ever tasted garlic.

A mountain villager stopping the carriage to beg for garlic—wasn’t it only natural to go all out?

“Good thing Zheng’er is amazing, and Uncle still has plenty of garlic,” Zhu Xiang muttered after the awkwardness passed.

Ying Zheng tilted his head. “What’s it got to do with me? Was the garlic I planted harvested well?”

Zhu Xiang smiled. “Exactly.”

After his showdown with the Taoists at the Xianyang Academy, when he stepped down, Ying Zheng had clapped excitedly, shouting, “Uncle is amazing!”

Right at that moment, a pixelated fireworks announcement popped up—his system was upgrading.

Seconds later, the upgrade completed, and the limit for each crop draw increased from “1,000” to “10,000.”

Zhu Xiang had always worried that a thousand seeds wouldn’t be enough to promote crop cultivation. Especially for seeds that lost vitality quickly—he’d have no time to re-cultivate them before they deteriorated.

This system upgrade greatly eased his seed shortage anxiety.

He was now even more certain: his entire system was tied to the destiny of Ying Zheng, the heaven-chosen child.

Zhu Xiang ruffled the boy’s hair. “It’s all thanks to Zheng’er that they can be saved.”

“If Uncle says so, then it must be true,” Ying Zheng replied simply. He thought his uncle was trying to give him credit, so he accepted it without protest.

In the future, whatever his uncle gave him—he would return it tenfold.

Due to the Water Gu outbreak, Zhu Xiang was delayed a few more days.

Before departure, he learned that the old woman herself was also infected and had little time left. Li Bing chose not to punish her.

Zhu Xiang sighed deeply.

If even this area had a schistosomiasis outbreak, it was clear—the first order of business upon entering Shu would be to fight the epidemic.