Chapter Eleven: The Young Master's Reflection

That autumn, the incessant rain drenched Huaxi without pause. On Shangyan Mountain, neither atop nor below, the young lord’s residence had yet been built. Near the vertical shaft under excavation, after two deaths, the place grew even quieter.

Everyone kept their heads down, absorbed in their work, none daring to speak loudly.

A modest pavilion had been constructed on Shangyan Mountain, where the young lord often came. Like today, the autumn rain blurred the view; he spent the entire day gazing at the misty scene.

Li You arrived clad in a straw raincoat with a bamboo hat, bowing respectfully: “Young lord, a letter from my father.”

Fusu set down a cup of hot tea and carefully unrolled the bamboo slip.

Li You’s expression wavered slightly, lowering his voice: “My father says, if the young lord dislikes these prisoners, send them to repair the Great Wall in the Yan region.”

Indeed, the letter from his teacher mentioned nothing else.

Fusu said, “Sit for a while.”

Seeing that the young lord did not reply immediately, Li You took the hint and sat down. “Does the young lord have something on his mind?”

Nearby, a clay kettle boiled on a mud stove, the sound of water bubbling within clear to hear.

Fusu took some tea leaves from a cloth bag and poured them into a pottery bowl.

Tian An immediately filled the bowl with boiling water. Fusu instructed, “Let it cool a bit before drinking.”

Li You said, “Thank you for the gift, young lord.”

The Qin people mostly drank wine; brewing tea was probably a custom of the literati from the Qi and Lu regions.

Though Li You had never been past Guanzhong, he had heard of it.

Fusu explained, “These teas were tributes from various parts of Bashu.”

Tian An added, “The young lord ordered me to seek them out. We had heard of them before, and this year some arrived as tribute, so we gave them to the young lord.”

When the tea had cooled somewhat, Li You took a large sip, exhaling deeply afterward.

Fusu continued, “In fact, Zhang Han killing the two ringleader escapees was quite good. See how these men now work more diligently than before. If those two had been spared, this newly developing Shangshan village would have been thrown into chaos. Killing them brought order.”

“People’s deaths must have meaning. Since they chose to escape, better to die. Their deaths are more valuable to the progress of digging the canals, aren’t they?”

Li You nodded. “Your words are most wise, young lord.”

Not far off, some dispute arose—apparently a group wished to pay respects to the young lord but were stopped by guards. Seeing the young lord still speaking with Li You, Tian An approached to inquire.

Inside the pavilion, the persistent autumn drizzle seeped in lightly.

Fusu said, “Zhang Han is, after all, a man of the military. His way of managing people mirrors military discipline: without rules, there is chaos. To establish order, he must enforce rules. Even if soldiers deserting cause unrest, killing them is necessary to steady the ranks.”

Li You nodded once again.

Zhang Han was a straightforward man; his actions and words were plain. He knew clearly who deserved death and who deserved reward.

Thus, the entire Shangyan Mountain functioned like a military camp, with strict rules governing daily life.

Outside the pavilion, the mountain path was paved with gravel. Tian An saw the newcomers were court scholars, Chunyu Yue among them, and greeted them: “Scholars, have you come to see the young lord?”

“We naturally come to pay respects to the young lord.”

Tian An glanced back at the pavilion, then told them, “The young lord is in self-reflection today and will not receive visitors.”

Chunyu Yue looked a bit reluctant but turned away.

Inside, Fusu said, “Tell the teacher that all is well here.”

Li You nodded in salute.

Fusu truly was reflecting, feeling the need to better understand the people of this era.

Silence fell once more; no one knew what the young lord was thinking, only that his gaze rested on the distant horizon, silent.

Excavation on Shangyan Mountain continued. The three thousand household servants were the most loyal; divided into squads, they oversaw thirty thousand prisoners.

Just like the military, this place was governed with similar or even stricter discipline.

The autumn rain fell for another three days. The longer it lasted, the stronger the northwestern winds became, and the colder the weather.

Fusu dressed more warmly than usual, personally inspecting the completed canals.

During these days, the Lesser Minister Wang Ben was busy. The heavy rains caused mountain floods, flooding parts of Hedong, and unrest in the southern commandery, requiring Qin troops to suppress it.

Thus, both court and military were occupied.

It was not that Wang Ben was incompetent, but simply overwhelmed.

Due to this autumn rain, disasters struck various parts of Guanzhong to varying degrees. The household servants beneath Shangyan Mountain grew tense, posting guards at granaries day and night, clubs in hand, watching every road.

The old Qin men standing guard at the gates cast hostile glances at passersby.

Such tension was because the autumn rain, while nourishing the land of Guanzhong, also brought misfortune.

---

The war had ended only half a year ago. People were just emerging from chaos, judging current conditions by past experience.

Before and after war, and during disasters, bandits and mountain robbers surged.

At times like these, the first concern for every household was protecting grain and family.

At mealtime, Fusu walked past the servants’ quarters, seeing them gathered in small groups eating.

Their living quarters were separate from the prisoners’.

Most of these servants were already married, a tradition dating back to Lü Buwei’s time, passed down from generation to generation.

Seeing these servants, Fusu found some warmth in this cold era.

One autumn rain alone brought disaster to so many places, a calamity that was catastrophic for Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s centralized rule.

Fusu could imagine his father, perhaps in the Zhangtai Palace, shouting curses at the newly formed cabinet of the three ministers and nine officials over this.

This era was still agrarian. Whenever disaster struck, grain was the most precious commodity.

Yet agriculture was extremely fragile; a prolonged autumn rain could cause widespread calamities.

The agricultural level of this age was pitifully weak against such disasters.

Qin was far from the idealized empire some imagined.

Fusu saw carts laden with grain leaving Xianyang City, and troops departing Guanzhong.

The court was overwhelmed; Qin soldiers and officials rushed to various regions.

Li You was reassigned to Hedong, and Wang Ben had not been seen for some time.

Shangyan Mountain was briefly forgotten by them.

Two months later, late autumn gave way to early winter; frost still lay on the ground at dawn.

Fusu ate his morning meal. The old men guarding the gates with clubs were gone, signaling the worst of the autumn rain’s disasters had passed.

Recent court reports spoke mainly of deaths in various places, battles and rebellions quelled, and the old states’ factions stirring trouble only to be suppressed by Qin troops.

Zhang Han, seeing the young lord’s fondness for celery, boiled some in a clay pot and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

He resolved to plant celery all over the mountain from then on.

The cold wind blew; Fusu sipped hot tea, exhaling warm breath that turned to mist in the frigid air.

Though winter brought no worries about grain, the people on Shangyan Mountain controlled their diets strictly. As long as they were not hungry, they ate no more, for the remaining grain had to last until next autumn.

Tian An saw the pile of documents on the table and the young lord’s troubled expression and felt like cursing.

Watching Zhang Han devour bread and celery, Tian An wanted to scold the simple fool for being so carefree and oblivious to the young lord’s worries.

This land was the young lord’s private estate—from its soil to its people, down to the grain calculations.

If all these matters had to be handled personally, the young lord would be consumed by them day and night, unable to think of anything else.

The young lord had not read a book for some time.

In the past, he loved quiet reading above all. Now, he was weary from these concerns.

Yet, he was passionately dedicated, constantly calculating the food needs of thirty thousand people and the progress of construction.

These matters should not fall on his shoulders.

Fusu felt that people must learn. Starting with governing his own territory and sorting out how to provide clothing, food, housing, and transportation for thirty thousand people was an interesting process.

To keep thirty thousand from freezing or starving, while maintaining production order.

Who in this resource-scarce Qin had thirty thousand household servants?

And no one on Shangyan Mountain starved or froze to death this winter.

That alone testified to the household’s excellent governance.

Half a month later, when Guanzhong saw its first snowfall, Shangyan Mountain remained unchanged—houses as before, mountain and foothills the same.

Only the Dragon Head Canal continued to be dug, with a vertical shaft every three li, having completed a fifth of its length.

Fusu had spent the entire autumn learning how to arrange manpower, reassign thirty thousand people into work types and squads for more efficient canal excavation.

He continued to have Zhang Han supervise the prisoners with military discipline.

Every day at noon, Fusu came here and returned to Xianyang only at dusk.

Today was like any other day when Tian An led a visitor to the mountain’s foot.

The visitor was Li You, unseen since autumn.

---

Fusu noticed Li You still wore his black official robe, his shoes splattered with mud, his complexion pale and his body much thinner.

Fusu frowned. “How did your trip to Hedong leave you so thin?”

Li You sat cross-legged, silently accepting the water Tian An handed him, then drank greedily from the kettle.

Fusu, hearing the gulping, brought over a plate of bread, a bowl of pickled vegetables, and some raw celery.

Li You, gaunt-faced, ate heartily.

Tian An brought a brazier and placed it by the table.

The pickled vegetables were made by the young lord from bean paste, spread on bread to enhance flavor.

Tian An wanted to warn that the pickles were salty and should be eaten sparingly.

But Li You took a big mouthful from the bowl.

Noting only a slight frown at the saltiness before swallowing, Tian An said nothing further.

Still, he felt uneasy; Li You was eating too much. Food on Shangyan Mountain was rationed, with limited stores. Every extra bite meant one less for another.

Hence, the villagers never welcomed outsiders, even driving them away, cutting off all who sought free food.

In protecting grain, the three thousand servants and thirty thousand prisoners shared a common bottom line.

The young lord’s resources were meager; beyond a few hundred acres of land, all he had were these people.

After eating, Li You loudly burped contentedly.

Fusu held a bamboo slip, reading.

After a glance around, Li You, seeing no more food, finally spoke: “Young lord, long time no see.”

Fusu asked, “You went to Hedong? What happened to you?”

Li You replied, “Hedong suffered floods and mountain torrents.”

“Mm, I heard.”

“After the floods, an epidemic broke out. Many, many died.”

Upon hearing this, Fusu put down the bamboo slip. Official records noted the deaths, grain consumed, and troops deployed, but were cold and impersonal.

Li You had gone himself to the disaster area.

He continued speaking of a place where the living wished not to live and the dead had no place to be buried.

Before such calamity, human strength was negligible.

Li You even buried bodies personally, saying the dead were heavy—too heavy to carry alone.

Two people were needed to drag a body into a pit.

He had witnessed healthy men fall ill, grow worse, and die within just over half a month, some living even shorter.

No matter what, Li You could neither sleep nor eat properly there.

Fusu thought it a miracle that Li You returned alive.

Had he fallen ill, he too would have been killed.

Li You could have returned earlier, but stayed in Hedong for half a month to confirm he was healthy. Then, after being allowed to leave, he traveled another month back to Guanzhong.

Li You murmured, dazed: “The dead really are heavy. Impossible to carry.”

Fusu said, “Prepare some hot water for him to wash properly.”

Tian An nodded and ordered several servants to arrange it.

After washing and donning warmer clothes, Li You said, “Wang Ben, suppressing the rebellion in the southern commandery, is no better off than I am, haha... He kills people; I save them.”

Not seen for a whole autumn, Li You’s eyes now gleamed with far more resolve.

Fusu said, “People are truly insignificant.”

Li You painfully covered his face, saying, “Young lord, I never want to carry the dead again in this life.”

Soon, the prime minister’s men arrived at the mountain’s foot to escort the shaken Li You away.

Fusu said, “Actually, Li You is a very decent man.”

Tian An replied, “The prime minister’s son is naturally extraordinary.”