Chapter 24: The Well-Mannered Young Master

Tian An hurried forward and accepted the military orders.

Wang Ben stepped up and said, "Please report back; I shall personally escort the Prince to Hangu Pass."

The messenger nodded, turned his horse around, and galloped back toward Xianyang.

Fusu took the token. It was a dull, aged black, but with hints of gold along the edges, suggesting it was crafted from bronze.

After their meal, Tian An had already gathered the necessary supplies for the journey. Hangu Pass was not very far from Xianyang; with a fast horse and travel through the night, the round trip would take only two or three days. Even at a slower pace, ten days would be more than enough.

While waiting for the thousand-strong cavalry to arrive, Fusu sat in a newly crafted bamboo chair and closed his eyes for a nap. From the village came the sound of children reciting their lessons—Mao Heng was teaching them once again. Mao Heng was well-versed in the *Classic of Poetry*, which had been passed down through the various states for ages; he was indeed a man of profound learning.

Several puppies lay sleeping beneath the Prince's lounge chair. The midday sun felt pleasant; in this late-spring chill, midday was the only time one could enjoy a moment of warmth.

Fusu rested with his eyes closed, while Zhang Cang and Shusun Tong stood nearby, as silent as statues.

The sound of Zhang Han’s voice drifted to his ears. Fusu opened his eyes slightly and saw Zhang Han talking with Wang Ben. Under Wang Ben’s persistent questioning, Zhang Han was speaking of his childhood.

"I have lived in my uncle's house for as long as I can remember. I have a younger brother named Zhang Ping. My uncle was a centurion in the Qin army, and he told me that I was destined for the military. Even then, I followed the army into battle..."

As he spoke, Zhang Han looked toward the sky, as if searching the air above for the scenes of those days.

"I remember when General Wang Ben attacked the State of Wei. I was in the army and saw with my own eyes the flooding of Daliang."

At this point, Zhang Han grew animated, his hand clenching into a fist as he spoke with fervor: "That battle, General Wang fought it magnificently!"

"Hahaha!" Wang Ben reached out and patted Zhang Han on the back, with the air of an old veteran caring for a junior, and also for his own subordinate.

Zhang Han did not wish to speak of what happened later, and Wang Ben already knew: Zhang Han’s uncle had fallen in battle. In truth, the war to extinguish the State of Chu had been truly difficult.

Li You was still out with the villagers, digging wells and irrigation ditches. Fusu felt that those around him possessed both literary and martial talent—Zhang Cang for the former, Zhang Han for the latter. What else did he lack at this moment?

Tian An filled the waterskins with boiled water and prepared the stove for the Prince’s journey. He had even brought some books from the palace so that the Prince could read on the road.

The thousand cavalrymen arrived quickly. Fusu had not been resting for even half an hour when the troops appeared before them. A thousand soldiers were not a small number. Fusu looked up to see the Qin soldiers, all clad in black iron armor, sitting atop their horses and awaiting orders.

Wang Ben strode forward and announced in a booming voice: "Zhang Han, don your armor and accompany me to escort the Prince to Hangu Pass."

"Zhang Han obeys."

The horses snorted, their powerful frames exuding a sense of strength. Once the troops arrived, they stood in absolute silence, waiting for the command. When Tian An arrived with the carriage, Fusu realized that the carriage horses were a head shorter than the warhorses.

Zhang Han did not usually wear armor because it was heavy, donning it only when necessary. His armor was impeccably maintained, showing how much he cherished it. That was the way of the Qin army: once an order was received, there could be no delay; they had to move immediately.

Wang Ben and Zhang Han took their positions on either side of the column, ready to depart. Before leaving, Fusu said to Zhang Cang: "I leave this village to you, Teacher."

Zhang Cang bowed. "Have no worries, Prince."

With that, Fusu boarded the carriage and said: "Let us go."

Tian An drove the carriage forward, and the thousand black-armored cavalry protected Fusu’s carriage. Zhang Cang stood still, watching the escort and the carriage disappear into the distance. Shusun Tong stood beside him, also remaining silent for a long time.

Hearing the children playing behind them, Shusun Tong asked, puzzled: "Why must Prince Fusu be the one to welcome General Wang Jian at this time?"

Zhang Cang held a bamboo scroll behind his back and replied: "In truth, the First Emperor loves this son deeply. He values him highly and holds great expectations for him."

Shusun Tong stroked his beard for a moment, watching the Qin cavalry move further away.

Zhang Cang continued: "Among the First Emperor’s children, only Prince Fusu is permitted to study under the Prime Minister, to engage in state affairs, and to interact with the generals. He even allows General Wang Ben to associate with the Prince without suspicion. The First Emperor has given everything he could to the Prince. As for the other children, they can only watch Prince Fusu from afar."

The reality was indeed as he described. Shusun Tong had never seen the First Emperor’s other offspring; besides, they were still very young.

Shusun Tong did not care for Zhang Cang’s manner of speaking; the man was far too calm.

Zhang Cang added: "I still have my concerns, but I hope I am merely overthinking."

Sometimes, one could not help but be moved. Zhang Cang was a disciple of Xunzi, and his profound knowledge made Shusun Tong feel inferior. He whispered: "Zhang Cang, heed my words: the more one learns, the more one finds to worry about."

Zhang Cang nodded and left. As the Prince’s teacher, he still had to build up the village. The coming days, with the spring plowing and the Grain Rain season approaching, would be very busy once the cold snap passed.

As dusk approached, the winds in Guanzhong grew stronger. This was the nature of the season; the nights were always windy.

Fusu sat inside the carriage, gazing at a scroll of the *I Ching*. His body swayed with the jolting of the carriage, and the sound of horse hooves, now fast, now slow, filled his ears. Most of the warhorses moved at a steady pace, as they were guarding the perimeter of the carriage. The faster hoofbeats belonged to the Qin scouts, who were ensuring the safety of the surrounding miles, verifying that there were no ambushes ahead and no one trailing behind.

Fusu felt the Qin army must be the most loyal force in the world, for their military merits translated directly into wealth. In an era where food was scarce, any man who could earn more fields or a title for his family was considered a fine man. Thus, compared to the states that had undergone successive reforms, the Qin army was the most loyal.

"Prince, night is falling. Shall we make camp?"

"Let General Wang decide."

Hearing the Prince’s reply, Wang Ben shouted to the vanguard, and the column halted for the night southeast of the Luo River. Fusu stepped out of the carriage and, in the glow of the setting sun, witnessed the strict defenses of the Qin army. Zhang Han was patrolling the perimeter.

The Qin army still harbored trauma from assassination attempts. Successive Qin kings had endured many, especially the incident with Jing Ke, or Gao Jianli a few years prior.

Tian An had caught a live fish, about the size of a palm. Holding a wooden stick in one hand and pressing down the squirming fish with the other, he struck with a skilled, practiced motion, silencing it. He then hummed an unknown tune while skillfully preparing the fish.

Fusu gazed at the cooking smoke rising from distant villages. A moment later, he looked back to see Tian An had lit two stoves, and the water was already boiling in the pottery pot.

Fusu sat by the campfire, lost in thought as he watched the sunset. When he looked back again, the fish had been put into the pot, along with sliced scallions and ginger. The soldiers around him were also sitting in small groups, having lit fires to keep warm through the night.

Before long, Tian An prepared a bowl of fish soup and a bowl of millet. On top of the millet lay a layer of bitter greens.

Tian An smiled and said: "Prince, the old Qin people love bitter greens."

Fusu took a bite, chewing the greens mixed with the pale yellow grains. Although they were bitter, after a few chews, the bitterness faded.

Zhang Han was eating roasted rabbit meat. His gaze fell upon the Prince sitting not far away; the Prince’s meal was very simple.

Wang Ben came over and sat down nearby. "The Prince is different from the princes of the other states."

"How so?"

As Wang Ben spoke, there were still bits of wild greens caught between his teeth. He said: "Even the children of noble families, when they go out, are always thinking of playing and wandering around, wanting to see other places. Look at Prince Fusu; he just sits there, protected by the army, and never wanders off."

Hearing Wang Ben put it that way, Zhang Han realized it was true. Throughout the day's journey, the Prince had never once mentioned wanting to go elsewhere or wander about. Even if the Prince had asked to visit other counties, the army could have escorted him, and arriving at Hangu Pass a day or two late would not have mattered.

Zhang Han nodded. He said nothing, but in his heart, he felt this kind of Prince was reliable and reassuring.

In truth, Fusu had not thought so much about it. Along the way, the scenery was more than enough to keep him occupied; he had no desire to roam elsewhere. The eight hundred miles of the Qin plains were more than one could take in at a single glance.

Fusu sat by the fire, holding a silk cloth between his hands; on it was a map of Guanzhong. At this time, the Yellow River had not yet changed its course, and Hangu Pass remained the gateway to Guanzhong, as well as the most formidable pass of the Warring States period.

The column had set out from the upper reaches of the Luo River, followed its course, and then headed east to reach Hangu Pass. The journey was not far, and being able to eat fresh fish from the Yellow River while viewing the beautiful scenery was a joy.

The thousand cavalrymen carried their own rations—one cake a day, eaten in two meals—until they could replenish their supplies at Hangu Pass. After calculating the route ahead, Fusu went to sleep early once darkness fell. Even while traveling, the Prince ate well, slept well, and kept a regular schedule.

The next morning, the weather remained just as cold.

The late-spring chill in Guanzhong was peculiar and fickle. Usually, it would end by mid-March, but in Guanzhong, it could persist in extreme forms into April, and there might even be heavy snow.

The column traveled for three days and arrived at Ningqin County, the site of what would later be Tongguan. It was very close to Hangu Pass. Fusu stayed at the county office and was talking with the magistrate.

That day, a heavy rain began to fall outside. Rainwater poured into the Yellow River, and the soldiers sought shelter under the eaves. Others led their horses into the stables to feed them fodder.

Tian An stood under the eaves, smiling at the rain. The timing was perfect. He said to Wang Ben: "The Prince has been hoping for the Grain Rain to arrive early this year, and now it has."

Wang Ben sat on a stool, chewing on a cake. "Can the Prince’s wishes really be fulfilled?"

Tian An smiled again. "The Prince said he wanted to see more snow, and this year, the snow fell for a long time."

Zhang Han sat nearby, staring straight ahead, chewing his cake with intense focus. He was a man who did everything with concentration; when he ate, he only focused on eating.

Inside the office, Fusu was reviewing the county’s records, through which he could see the flow of merchants and the movement of the population. The magistrate stood respectfully to the side, not daring to be the least bit negligent.

Fusu said: "In the last two years, more people have entered Guanzhong, while fewer have left." The records detailed the population movement, down to the specific household in each county.

The magistrate replied: "In previous years, there was fighting everywhere. More people left to go to war, and very few returned."

From this brief statement, Fusu could discern much.

The magistrate added: "Reporting to the Prince, now that the wars have ended, more people are entering the pass than before." In recent years, the population of Guanzhong had been steadily increasing. People said that since the wars were over, they should plant more crops and raise more children. The troops returning from the Chu lands had brought back many, breathing new life into the once desolate Guanzhong.

"Report!"

A soldier came running from outside.

Wang Ben barked: "What is it?"

The man was drenched in rain, his armor dripping water. He held a bamboo tube in both hands and spoke in a clear voice: "A letter from General Wang Jian, to be delivered to the Prince."

Wang Ben took the tube and handed it to the Prince with both hands. "Prince, a letter from my father."

Fusu took the tube, broke the wax seal, removed the lid, and pulled out a scroll of thin silk. Silence fell all around, save for the patter of the rain outside.

After reading it, Fusu looked at Wang Ben, who was standing to the side: "The old General says he wants Wang Li to go to the north to assist Meng Tian in defending against the Xiongnu and building the Great Wall."

Wang Ben hesitated for a moment. "Li'er?"

Fusu handed the letter to Wang Ben. This was a family matter for the old General, sending his own grandson to the north. Wang Li was Wang Ben’s son. Although the old General did not explicitly state that Wang Li would not return if he did not go north, Fusu suspected the old man had deep ulterior motives.

"I will write a letter to my father. Please be at ease, Prince."

Fusu looked at the Grain Rain outside. He hoped that welcoming the old General back would go smoothly, without any twists and turns; once he was back, everyone would be at peace. As for the family affairs of the old General, Fusu had no desire to be involved.

While Wang Ben was writing his letter home, Fusu said to Zhang Han outside: "Once the rain stops, we will head for Hangu Pass. It is better to be early than late. Have everyone prepare their rations and water."

Zhang Han bowed deeply. "I obey."

The rain fell for two days and two nights, and the water level of the Yellow River rose significantly. Fusu was able to witness the river in its surging glory.

However, Zhang Han looked worried. He reported: "Prince, this year’s late-spring chill has been long and late, and this Grain Rain has come early. With the sudden alternation of cold and heat, I fear... the 'Peach Blossom Flood' is coming."

Fusu said: "I will write a letter to the Emperor, so the court can prepare in advance."

Zhang Han said: "I will prepare a fast horse and have someone ride through the night to deliver it to Xianyang."