Chapter Seventeen: A Disruption in the Snowy Day

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Circling around the front of Zhangtai Palace, one arrives at the rear hall. Fusu walked ahead with the eunuchs on the way to the rear hall, casting a sideways glance at Li Si, who lagged half a step behind. In the court debate, so many were opposed to relocating people to guard the borders; the angry shout from the main hall of Zhangtai Palace still echoed in his ears. Yet, the teacher before him remained confident and composed. Approaching the rear hall, the sound of chime bells struck out; Fusu looked up to see a group of beauties dancing inside the hall. Led by the eunuchs, Fusu sat quietly to one side, with the teacher seated on the opposite side. The emperor, occupying the main seat, was eating cakes while watching the dancers with keen interest. Traditionally, nobles from the six states enjoyed watching beautiful women dance while dining. Fusu observed the food brought by palace maids: a basin of lamb meat, a basin of sliced cakes, and a bowl of wine. The wine tasted sour on the palate; Fusu took another bite of the cake, which was made using a recipe from Shanyang Mountain. Tian An had learned to make these cakes; even the women of Shanyang Mountain had mastered the recipe, so it was no surprise to see such cakes in the palace. Each piece was palm-sized and as thick as a thumb. Fusu ate a piece of cake and followed it with some lamb. After the meal, the music ceased. The First Emperor waved his hand, and the palace maids and eunuchs withdrew. Once the table was cleared, the hall fell silent again. “Fusu, do you know what the Qin people were like before?” The emperor spoke, prompting Fusu to rouse himself and reply, “Your servant has heard that the Qin were brave, and I believe they remain so.” Ying Zheng lifted his wine cup and drank deeply. Li Si sat on the other side with his eyes closed, resting. Hearing the prince speak, he responded, “I still remember when I first went to Qi to study at the Jixia Academy, later becoming a disciple of Xunzi before coming to Qin.” Ying Zheng nodded for him to continue. “When I first arrived in Qin, I saw armies everywhere; their gazes were hostile—not just towards me, but to anyone who came to Qin.” “At first, I did not understand why. Later, I realized it was their ambition. Even the humble Qin soldier wished to kill enemies and earn merit. Then, I saw more of the Qin people.” “The Qin were different from those of the six states. The greatest change came after Shang Jun’s reforms: hope appeared in their eyes. Qin people were given land to cultivate; on the edge of this land, they could build homes, and thus, hope was born.” “Since Shang Jun’s reforms, all Qin people had land to till. Moreover, they could join the military, kill enemies to earn merit, and be enfeoffed as lords. Military achievements gave them confidence and a foundation to stand on…” At this banquet, the teacher was particularly jovial, probably having not enjoyed such moments for a long time. The teacher spoke of hope but also of numbness. Li Si had come from humble origins, relying on hard study to gain the favor of nobles, only able to become a minor official after great difficulty—only through the recognition of those high nobles. Since then, Li Si had been seeking a place where he could truly showcase his talents. Thus, he deeply understood the numbness felt by people across the six states—noble children remained nobles, soldier sons remained soldiers, and those without land would starve sooner or later. As Fusu listened, he noticed the expression on the emperor’s face and realized that perhaps both the emperor and Li Si understood how to change the realm. That was why Li Si could loudly reprimand dozens of famous scholars from Qi and Lu in Zhangtai Palace and remain calm and confident afterward—because the First Emperor shared the same ideal. Fusu arrogantly thought that ideals and hope were extremely important to both the teacher and the emperor. Li Si said, “Your Majesty, I believe the proclamation should be issued tomorrow to begin the relocation.” Seeing the emperor look at him, Fusu bowed, “Father, the teacher’s words are most true.” Li Si slightly raised his head and smiled. Ying Zheng said gravely, “Bring the map.” A eunuch hurried in, carrying a large scroll that required five men to hold horizontally. The map was spread on the floor—a depiction of the northern defensive line. The teacher pointed toward the direction of Bingzhou, explaining the relocation process. Fusu stood aside, watching the northern defense line. In later centuries, about a hundred years hence, Emperor Wu of Han would adopt a similar policy to relocate people to resist the northern Xiongnu. Fusu, adopting a quiet attitude unless spoken to, listened patiently as the teacher finished outlining the plan. The original three thousand households were increased by another three thousand, totaling six thousand. Ying Zheng said, “Those Confucian scholars will still criticize.” Li Si bowed, “As long as those people appear in Zhangtai Palace, their mouths cannot be controlled.” Ying Zheng said, “I wish to execute them all.”

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At these words, Li Si nodded slightly, for in his heart, that Qi and Lu scholar Chunyu Yue had died many times in his dreams, in various ways. Clearing his throat, Li Si continued, “These people cannot be killed; they are useful to Great Qin alive.” Fusu realized the teacher was a harsh man—some live because they are useful, otherwise they are to be killed? “Recently, have Shusun Tong and Fusheng visited you?” The emperor asked, and Fusu replied, “I have not seen those two elders since.” At this, Fusu added, “Today, seeing the Qi and Lu scholars in Zhangtai Palace so agitated about the relocation, perhaps we should send a few scholars north to observe.” Investigation and observation must precede conclusions. With investigation and firsthand observation, one gains the right to speak. As for the scholars’ criticisms, whatever they lack must be supplied—in this case, observation. Li Si smiled, “Your Highness speaks wisely.” Ying Zheng glanced at the sky, “You may leave.” Fusu bowed and exited the hall. Just as he turned and put on his shoes to leave, he overheard the teacher and emperor speaking. The teacher was apparently approving of the prince’s suggestion. The emperor was saying the teacher ought to offer more guidance regularly. Fusu sighed inwardly… Children are always children. Prince Fusu was raised under the gaze of the people of Xianyang Palace—not only by the veteran General Meng Wu but also General Wang Jian, Li Si, and Tian An. Hearing a snippet more, Fusu caught the emperor and teacher discussing anti-Qin forces. This seemingly peaceful realm still harbored opposition to Qin. Even now, Fusu did not know where Xiang Liang, Xiang Bo, Xiang Yu, or Zhang Liang were. Survival was already difficult, especially for those who had endured the chaos of war. The capital of Chu had fallen—what was left to fight for? Fusu found war tedious and unnecessary. Passing through the main hall of Zhangtai Palace, he walked back to Gaoquan Palace. Approaching the rear courtyard, he heard the sound of water flowing into the fishpond. Looking at the pond full of fish, Fusu remained silent for a long while. Tian An stood beside him, guessing the prince was choosing which fish to eat today. Just as he was about to speak, Fusu’s expression turned displeased; he rose and entered the hall. Tian An then realized the prince did not want fish today. Yet the prince had met the emperor with the chancellor and attended the morning court debate. The palace maids and eunuchs at Gaoquan Palace noticed the prince was burdened with thoughts. Tian An inquired, “Prince, what shall we have for dinner?” “Is there celery?” The hesitation was brief, “There is some.” “Then let’s have celery.” Tian An sent someone to check for celery in the palace; if none was found, they would seek it outside. Night fell, and days grew shorter after winter’s onset. A eunuch brought in a basin of green celery, reporting, “The palace has none left; General Zhang Han planted some on Shanyang Mountain—only this remains.” Tian An boiled the celery and set it beside the prince’s table, heating another cake. The prince placed celery and lamb inside a cake, rolled it up, and ate. Night deepened, and the prince continued reading. Usually, this was how he was—reading when happy and when unhappy. Snow began to fall outside again. Tian An instructed, “Since the prince enjoys celery, inform General Zhang Han to plant more next year.” The night passed. Before dawn, the light outside was still gray. Fusu lay on his couch, waking and picking up a scroll to read. Even inside the chamber, the cold outside was palpable. After tiring of lying down, Fusu sat up, dressed, and opened the door. A cold wind blew in, carrying snowflakes into the hall.

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Stepping onto thick snow, Fusu gazed at the snowy landscape, still holding his scroll. Tian An hurried over, “Prince, the emperor has decreed that court will be suspended for a month in the twelfth lunar month.” Fusu set down the bamboo slip and began to wash up. Tian An’s voice lingered, “Most likely those Qi and Lu scholars displeased His Majesty. How dare they openly oppose the emperor and chancellor in the hall—truly, they should be executed.” Fusu said, “The teacher said they are useful.” “Prince, do you want breakfast?” “Is there still some celery left from yesterday?” “Quite a bit remains.” Fusu instructed, “Since there is no court today, I will prepare the meal myself. Bring the celery.” The prince usually cooked his own meals and was skilled—rumored to have learned from Empress Dowager Huayang. The current emperor favored the fish soup the prince made. Thinking of this, Tian An’s eyes filled with tears, for only he knew the true story behind the prince’s cooking skills. The Empress Dowager Huayang also praised the prince’s skills but had not taught them; Tian An vividly recalled the young prince sitting by the dowager’s couch, patiently preparing soup. The prince was so young yet tirelessly cooked by hand. The dowager was still alive then, doting on the boy who grew up at her side. Now the dowager was gone, and no one knew the hidden truth. The dowager never explained, and Tian An let the misunderstanding persist. Today, everyone in Xianyang Palace believed the Empress Dowager loved the prince most and taught him to cook. Tian An allowed this misunderstanding to grow, never correcting it. Even if mistaken, it ensured that when people saw the prince, they remembered the dowager. Tian An considered himself the prince’s most loyal servant. Fusu first placed millet into a ceramic bowl on the stove to cook, then put two eggs in another bowl over a smaller fire to cook slowly. He read his book patiently as the morning meal prepared. After half an hour, Fusu added chopped celery to the pot, cooking a bit longer. The eggs were done, and Fusu set down his book to eat quietly. Snow continued falling outside, thickening on the ground. After the meal, Fusu planned to take a walk. Palace staff were busy clearing snow throughout Xianyang Palace. Fusu walked atop the palace walls, overlooking the city from above. Reading many books made a person learned, he thought. If he studied for a few more years, he might become a well-learned man. And if, in the future, he could be a learned emperor, that would be quite good. On this tranquil snowy day, Chancellor Li Si began his relocation plan, doubling the original three thousand households to six thousand. Furthermore, Li Si appointed sixteen scholars from Qi and Lu to go north to oversee the relocation and record the progress of the Great Wall’s construction. If the scholars’ objections to the plan were an affront in the court debate, then Li Si’s use of the relocation plan to deal with these scholars was a bold counterattack—an insult to the extreme. At this moment, several Qi and Lu scholars were clamoring outside Li Si’s residence, using all the vulgar language they knew to curse the Qin chancellor. Unfortunately, the chancellor’s residence was tightly shut, no visitors admitted. In such freezing weather, who would receive guests? The elderly scholars were soon dragged away by patrolling Qin soldiers. For some reason, Fusu felt ashamed—after all, the idea to assign Qi and Lu scholars to the relocation was his own suggestion, and the teacher had truly carried it out. Witnessing this unsightly scene, Fusu blushed and turned away, descending from the wall. That day, many Qin soldiers left Xianyang; among those taken were the Qi and Lu scholars, who were loaded onto carts bound for the northern borders to investigate frontier defenses. Surprisingly, Chunyu Yue was not on the roster sent north. Amid the heavy snowfall, Chunyu Yue bid farewell to friends heading north, including Zhou Qingchen, a youthful friend from the Jixia Academy days.