Chapter Fifteen: The Perfect Young Master of Qin

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Li You walked in a daze, his spirit crushed. Perhaps it was the quarrel with his biological father that left him feeling deeply disheartened; the sense of being misunderstood and ignored lingered in his heart, refusing to dissipate.

“My father wouldn’t even let me finish a single sentence,” he muttered.

Zhang Han followed alongside, his face stern.

Li You continued, “General, I am no longer a school magistrate. I have my own ambitions now.”

Zhang Han replied, “Military posts are not something you can simply abandon at will.”

Li You halted in his tracks, looking at Zhang Han with a startled expression.

Zhang Han said, “Any delay in military affairs or defiance of regulations is punishable by military law. The only way to resign from being a magistrate is...”

Seeing Li You’s grim face, Zhang Han suddenly realized and amended, “With the Chancellor present, you need not fear being executed. The Chancellor would not use your head as an example to enforce discipline.”

Li You returned to his quarters with a numb expression. His room shared with the household servants had only a single oil lamp.

The so-called oil lamp was merely a chipped earthenware bowl.

Among the many servants' quarters, this was considered one of the better rooms, originally built by Zhang Han himself.

Besides managing the military, farming, and punishing prisoners, Zhang Han had even constructed a modest shelter that offered protection from wind and rain on his own. The general’s talents were truly astounding.

Living in the same room as General Zhang Han was not bad at all; tomorrow he would build himself a new room.

Though life here was harsh, at least he liked it.

As night approached, the western sky glowed crimson. Li You began teaching the household servants to read and write. The young master’s household had three thousand servants, but Li You could only teach twenty at a time. He selected twenty to learn first, then hoped they would teach others.

He was quite satisfied with his arrangement, but difficulties arose at the very start. These people could neither read nor write, and had no ability to learn literary works. Even when shown small seal script characters to recognize, some would fall asleep, while others left midway because someone’s child was crying.

When night fell, the first day of lessons concluded and everyone returned to their homes.

For some unknown reason, everything had been going awry lately; nothing seemed to go smoothly. Li You dropped the branch he was holding and stomped on it hard, muttering softly, “Why is everything so difficult? Why is everything so hard?”

The biting cold wind raged through the night, and only the sound of wind howling echoed through the alleys of Xianyang City.

In the residence of the Six Kingdoms’ scholars, Emperor Qin Shi Huang and Prime Minister Li Si had invited many learned men from the former states and provided them with homes. They were allowed to live in some of the better houses in Xianyang and settle their families.

Despite the emperor and Li Si’s generous hospitality and tolerance, no one, including Chunyu Yue, had brought their family to Xianyang. Most came alone, carrying a spirit of self-sacrifice.

Inside one residence, the flickering light of an oil lamp illuminated the aged scholar Fusheng from Qi and Lu, who was still reading a scroll borrowed from the young master Fusu. He had read it many times.

Shusun Tong looked troubled.

“Where did you go drinking today?” Fusheng asked.

Shusun Tong took a sip of cool water from a pottery jug and stroked his beard, his expression filled with disappointment.

“Some old friends from the past,” he replied.

Fusheng remarked, “I didn’t expect you to have friends in Xianyang.”

Shusun Tong sat up straighter, stroking his beard. “At the banquet today, we spoke of a man named Zhang Liang.”

“Which Zhang Liang?” Fusheng inquired.

“The son of Zhang Ping.”

Fusheng had never heard of Zhang Liang, but among the old nobility of the Six Kingdoms, there was a noble line from Han who fled when the Qin army conquered Han.

Later, Fusheng heard from some disciples that this noble family was related to Zhang Ping’s lineage.

But after years of war, their whereabouts were unknown.

Shusun Tong said, “At the feast, someone mentioned that someone east of here intends to rebel against Qin. That person sold off hundreds of servants and land. Others said that this person disposing of his property was a descendant of Zhang Ping.”

Fusheng’s gaze remained fixed on his book, showing no reaction.

“Oh…” Shusun Tong sighed deeply. “A few days ago, I also heard that the Xiang family from Chu is searching across regions for the old nobility of the Six Kingdoms to unite against Qin.”

Seeing Fusheng’s indifference, Shusun Tong muttered to himself, “Some are still plotting in secret, waiting for an opportunity to restore the Six Kingdoms.”

“Others believe that things are not so bad now. Qin has provided their wives and children a stable life. Talking about rebellion is difficult. Even if the Six Kingdoms were restored, what difference would it make? It would still be endless warfare.”

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“I’ve met many people these days and heard many things. I shouldn’t have met them; meeting them only unsettles my mind,” Shusun Tong said, raising his head slightly. “I shouldn’t have seen them at all.”

“Ah,” he slapped his forehead, then hurriedly added, “The young master’s book has not been returned.”

Fusheng had read the bamboo scroll many times. He placed it on the desk and softly asked, “What kind of person do you think the young master is?”

“Well, since arriving in Xianyang, I have heard some things.”

Shusun Tong cleared his throat before continuing: “The Qin prince Fusu showed remarkable maturity from a young age. When Empress Dowager Huayang was gravely ill, the young Fusu taught himself medicine and tended to her health. It was said that the empress lived several extra years because of his care.”

“A few years later, when the empress passed away, the First Emperor granted the Gaoquan Palace to the young master. He then took Prime Minister Li Si as his mentor. Now that Li Si is prime minister, young Fusu is diligent, humble, polite, and eager to learn.”

“He grasps much knowledge after just one reading or hearing. Though only sixteen, he remains studious like before, often reading books, studying governance, and treating his servants kindly. He lives simply, with no indulgences or entertainment outside or inside the palace.”

Fusheng said, “A prince like this in Qin is enviable.”

Shusun Tong added, “Indeed, such a prince is rare in Qin.”

“He will be the next king of Qin,” Fusheng said, “the next First Emperor. Such a prince will surely garner much support. From what I see in this book, he is learning about agriculture—what kinds of fields, what crops to plant, how seasons affect harvests.”

Shusun Tong lay on his couch, eyes closed, ready to sleep, but before dozing off, said: “Fusu does not seem like a child.”

Fusheng picked up the bamboo scroll again and thought about Shusun Tong’s words. He was unsure whether that phrase was praise or concern.

A freezing rain fell upon Guanzhong in the depths of winter, and the entire city of Xianyang awaited the return of the venerable General Wang Jian.

Fusu divided the laborers digging irrigation canals into small teams of three. The women busied themselves early preparing food, and men and women of all ages worked in the wells and trenches.

Digging irrigation canals was a slow process; it could not be rushed and might take weeks. It was better to be thorough.

After finishing the immediate tasks, Fusu stepped outside his study and noticed a litter of puppies huddled in a corner, leaning on each other for warmth.

He picked up one; it was black-gray and could only whimper faintly.

Sensing something, the puppies swarmed around him, soon covering his feet.

“Young master, Generals Wang and Zhang Han have arrived,” Tian An reported.

Hearing this, Fusu set down the puppy and carried each of them into the woodshed.

Counting carefully, there were ten puppies—none missing.

In the warm woodshed was a large dog, the mother of the puppies. She seemed displeased with the noisy pups. Fusu noticed her gaze; those dark eyes seemed to say, “Taking care of puppies is exhausting.”

Fusu ignored her look and shut the woodshed door, leaving a small crack open.

Turning back, he saw the two generals standing before him.

Fusu explained, “Winter has come, and everyone is idle. Except for our Shangshan village, all other counties have nothing to do. Haha… I have nothing to do either.”

Zhang Han stood with bowed respect, silent and serious.

Wang Ben smiled knowingly.

Walking through the village, Fusu saw improvements. They had tidied the houses and leveled the roads.

Nuer was teaching a group of children how to write. Seeing the young master pass by, she stopped to salute.

Once he had left, she resumed teaching.

There were also three ducks and six laying hens here.

Livestock needed grain to feed on, so they dared not raise too many. With grain scarce, they could not expand animal husbandry.

Fusu continued walking, seeing several women tending to rows of stoves, removing leftover hot cakes from them. These cakes were still warm, but the cold wind would soon cool them.

The women took the cakes outside to trade for grain. Such delicious cakes could be exchanged for a bag of millet or some beans.

From a cost perspective, it was a good trade.

“General Wang, when will the old general return?” Fusu asked.

Wang Ben answered, “It’s cold in Guanzhong. My father is spending the winter outside Hangu Pass. He will return to Xianyang when the weather warms.”

Fusu nodded, “The old general is aged and indeed should rest well.”

Leading the two generals to the fish pond, Fusu took two bamboo scrolls from the shelf and handed them over, saying, “Including the newly reclaimed fields this year, we have a total of 510 qing of land. We must prepare for next year’s planting.”

Zhang Han saluted, “I am ready to follow the young master’s commands.”

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One must always prepare for the future. Thinking of next year’s spring during this winter, and then considering the autumn after the spring, Fusu had long been accustomed to planning ahead.

“Starting next year, we will divide the existing fields by household. Each family will receive land according to the number of family members. Uncultivated fields will also be distributed by household. Whoever develops an extra mu of land will harvest more grain accordingly.”

He added, “I don’t eat much, so don’t include me in the calculations.”

Zhang Han smiled rarely, then saluted and left to carry out the orders.

Fusu tidied the bookshelf and noticed Wang Ben still standing there. He asked, “General Wang, is there something else?”

Wang Ben said, “Li You...”

“What about him?”

Wang Ben lowered his voice, “He’s digging a well. The Chancellor asked if I could take him back.”

“Li You, huh...” Fusu pondered briefly. “He’s been ill lately. General Wang, you don’t need to worry about him.”

“What illness?”

“Heart disease.”

Wang Ben hesitated, then asked, “Li You is ill and cannot return to Xianyang?”

Fusu said, “Li You is too foolish. There’s no need to bother with him.”

Just as Zhang Han left the young master’s study, he overheard these words.

Zhang Han also thought Li You was foolish—ever more so recently—doing many silly things and often talking to himself. He was not serious when teaching the household servants to read and write.

Sometimes Zhang Han could not bear it and would teach the servants himself.

The young master’s servants were naturally exceptional; apparently, the young master believed literate servants were more valuable.

The freezing rain continued intermittently, followed by a heavy snowfall at night. Fusu returned to Gaoquan Palace.

Snowflakes drifted into the hall, and thin layers of snow covered the ground inside and outside the palace gates.

Fusu glanced again, and a drowsy attendant hurried to clear the snow.

Tian An approached with a bowl of hot mutton soup. “General Meng Tian has gone north. The Xiongnu offered him fifty thousand sheep, all brought to Xianyang.”

“Which Xiongnu tribe sent them?”

“It was a Xiongnu tribal group. I don’t know their name, but there should be records in the military dispatches.”

Fusu drank the hot soup, feeling the warmth spread through his stomach, dispelling the chill brought by the wind and snow.

Tian An said, “I asked around. The county magistrates near Shangshan refuse to oversee the newly reclaimed fields.”

“I enslave servants to cultivate the land for my benefit,” Fusu sighed, “I fear people will say again, ‘The prince of Qin is truly a tyrant.’”

Tian An said, “Those who talk ill of you should be executed.”

Fusu smiled, finishing the bowl of mutton soup, chewing some meat.

The sheep were sent by Meng Tian from the harsh northern regions. Fusu wrote a letter asking Meng Tian to inquire about the current situation on the steppes and whether there was a Xiongnu leader named Modu.

After sealing the letter with wax, Fusu ordered, “Send this to Meng Tian tomorrow.”

Tian An nodded.

Late into the night, Fusu still studied Legalist texts. A cold wind caused the candle flames to flicker.

The next morning, snow continued to fall over Xianyang. Master Fusheng had yet to return the scroll.

Fusu woke early, eating breakfast while reading a book containing knowledge about crafts, especially bridge construction.

The young master had grown fond of reading lately, sometimes engrossed for an entire day.

Tian An said, “If you wish to learn bridge building, you might want to study this scroll.”

Fusu took the bamboo scroll Tian An handed him. Qin had two renowned experts in waterworks: one who built the Zhengguo Canal and another, the governor of Shu, who constructed the Dujiangyan irrigation system.