Chapter 33: The Bridge Is Completed

Zhang Han stood still for a moment, his thoughts pulled back by the sounds of children playing, before he returned to the preparations for his wedding. Seeing the woman he was to marry arrive by carriage, Zhang Han greeted his bride with a smile.

The wedding was a simple affair; the solitary Zhang Han had finally married the woman he loved. As for Dong Yi and the Dong family, they had merely sent two maidservants to attend to the household. The Dong family was a prominent clan in Xianyang, and this marriage was likely a matter of necessity—a way to avoid the persistent gossip of Shusun Tong. They could afford to be perfunctory with Zhang Han, but they dared not underestimate the influence of Shusun Tong. However, since the Dong girl herself held affection for Zhang Han, they were content to let the union proceed.

"General Zhang Han, these have arrived from Xianyang," a few soldiers said, setting down several crates.

Zhang Han, who felt he had few friends and did not even know where to look for his kin, asked, "Who sent these?"

The soldier replied, "I serve under General Wang. This crate is from him; the General is still in the palace discussing military matters with the other commanders and could not attend the banquet."

Zhang Han turned his gaze to the other crates. The man explained, "This one contains fine silks and fabrics sent by Prince Fusu. The Chancellor sent a box of coins, and Censor Zhang Cang sent a box of books..."

Looking at the stacks of gifts, Zhang Han bowed in the direction of Xianyang.

The long summer drew to a close. Li You had traveled for three days along the imperial highway, heading south until he reached a village at the foot of the Nanshan mountains. Some villagers spotted a youth of sixteen or seventeen, clad in armor and riding a warhorse, and hurried to report it to the local village head. This region was part of the Zhongnan Mountains, south of the Guanzhong plain. Because this village lay on a vital thoroughfare, any officials or troops heading south were bound to pass through it. Recently, soldiers had been passing by almost every day.

The local village head, a veteran of the Qin army, recognized the armor and saluted, saying, "General."

Li You handed over his token and official documents. "Is there food?"

"Indeed," the village head replied.

"Feed the horse. We must rest for the night and continue our journey tomorrow."

The village head led the young general into the post-house, where a few other officials were already resting. Qin officials were a busy lot; Li You was far from the only one rushing across the land. The cook served a bowl of thick porridge and a bowl of ginger soup. Li You finished the porridge, drank the soup, and settled into a comfortable sleep. Just as he was drifting off, he faintly heard the patter of rain against the window. Exhausted from days of travel, he quickly fell into a deep slumber.

When he woke, Li You stretched, sat up by the table, and called out, "Cook!"

The post-house was empty. After a while, the cook arrived, carrying a bundle. He handed it over and said, "General, this is dry ration for your journey."

Li You checked the bundle and asked, "It rained last night. How are the roads?"

"The roads are fine," the cook replied. "The horse has been fed and rested."

Li You wrote a dispatch and ordered, "Have this sent to Xianyang." The cook took the document with both hands. Li You packed his things, took his sword, and stepped outside to mount his horse, continuing his trek south.

The cook stood at the door, watching the young general depart. "To be a general at such a young age—his family must have rendered great service."

Soon after, the village administrator walked out lazily. "That young general is no ordinary man; I hear he is from a prominent family in Xianyang."

"Truly?" the cook asked, puzzled.

"That is what the village head said," the administrator replied. "He told us to send this document to Xianyang."

The two men stood before the post-house, watching the young general vanish into the dense mist, and sighed in unison. Their sigh was laden with envy. Indeed, all the old Qin people longed to gallop across the battlefield and win glory. The administrator often felt dejected because his own son had no chance to go to war, and now that the Great Qin had unified the six kingdoms, where was one to find military merit?

"Send the document," the cook said, nudging the administrator's arm with the scroll.

Watching the direction the young general had taken, the administrator muttered, "If only my son had such spirit..." He sighed again, took the document, fetched a horse from the stable, and set off toward Xianyang.

When the day finally brightened, the mist dispersed. Li You could finally see his surroundings and urged his horse to move faster along the highway. On both sides of the road, people were still busy in the fields. But after traveling for a short while, autumn rain began to fall once more. Beside Li You stood the verdant Nanshan mountains, and before him, the winding road. He had survived a year of digging soil on Mount Shangyan and had seen countless dead; what trouble could possibly defeat him now? Li You steeled his resolve, his eyes filled with determination, and spurred his horse into the distance.

The autumn rains in the west were intermittent. Every year, Guanzhong remained damp during this season until winter arrived. The rain fell for another three days, raising the water level of the Western Wei River. The river regained its peak vitality, rushing with power. When the rain stopped, it was dusk. Beside the Xianyang Bridge, Fusu sat alone in the glow of the setting sun.

Not far away, Tian An was busy organizing files in the house. Zhang Cang had been in Xianyang for several days, helping Chancellor Li Si with the standardization of scripts, carriage gauges, and weights and measures. Jian Lu had been taken by the Right Chancellor, likely for a more important appointment. When the people of Xianyang were busy, few would come to disturb them. They were like people who, once finished with their tasks, would remember to check the progress of the canal digging at Mount Shangyan, only to cast it from their minds when they became busy again.

The Xianyang Bridge was largely completed, and the court no longer paid it much attention. Fusu had returned to his life as an idler. Such was the way of life; many things were settled after the autumn harvest, and people were kept busy. The construction of the bridge was in its final stages. Once the minor details were handled and Tian An finished organizing the files for the internal treasury, everything would be complete. The bridge, which had taken seven months to build, was finished.

In the sunset, the vast sky was stained deep red. On the bridge, only two craftsmen remained, patching up a few corners. On the table before Fusu lay a document—a farewell letter from Li You. He wrote that he had received military orders and was now heading to Shu to mobilize troops. Fusu remembered that Li You had once not wanted to serve in the military.

"Brother!"

Hearing the call behind him, Fusu looked back from his chair. Prince Gao ran toward him, breathless. "Gao picked many persimmons!" He laughed, placing the persimmons on the table, then pulled up a stool and sat beside his brother, looking out at the Xianyang Bridge.

Fusu ate a persimmon and asked, "How is your reading lately?"

Gao shook his head. "I don't understand it. Master Shusun Tong has explained it many times, but I still don't understand." His voice lowered. "But if I keep saying I don't understand, the Master will be very disappointed."

Fusu said, "Then ask. Ask until you understand. It is not your fault if you do not understand, and do not think that asking more will make Shusun Tong unhappy."

"Yes!" Gao nodded vigorously, his voice carrying a touch of childishness. "I will study well." He stood up and bowed. "Gao is returning to the palace."

Fusu nodded, continuing to watch the scenery. Tian An watched Prince Gao board his carriage and leave, thinking how wonderful it would be if someone could accompany the Prince more often. Looking at the Prince sitting alone by the bridge, he felt the boy's solitude. What kind of child always liked to be alone? The Prince was the son of the First Emperor, and only the son of the First Emperor could endure such loneliness. Tian An, who had watched the Prince grow up, knew that whether the Empress Dowager Huayang was alive or not, Prince Fusu spent most of his time in such isolation.

For the next few days, even after all the craftsmen had left, Fusu remained in the small house by the bridge. Sometimes he watched the bridge in the autumn rain, and on sunny days, he watched it under the sunlight. This was the first great bridge the Prince had overseen, and naturally, he found it beautiful from every angle.

Tian An shared the Prince's sense of accomplishment, for he had stood by the Prince's side and watched the bridge rise from nothing. As long as the Prince was happy, Tian An would be happy for the sake of Empress Dowager Huayang. Tian An noticed the smile on the Prince's face when he cooked; the Prince enjoyed cooking his own meals, and most of the food he ate was prepared by his own hands.

Tian An held a bowl, which the Prince called "mutton noodles." A few slices of mutton covered the noodles, the soup clear and oily, with bits of green onion floating on top. Just as Tian An raised his chopsticks, he saw the Prince digging something out of the soil and peeling it. Looking closer, Tian An realized it was something bought from people of the Western Regions. No wonder the Prince hadn't eaten it before—he had been growing it himself.

Seeing his gaze, Fusu said, "This is garlic. It is easy to grow; it grows as soon as you plant it."

The Prince ate the roasted mutton and took a bite of garlic. Tian An took a piece of garlic from the Prince and ate it; it was spicy, and as he took a mouthful of noodles, he suddenly felt it was quite delicious. So, he ate his noodles, alternating with bites of garlic. From afar, the old man and the young one sat by the Xianyang Bridge, eating. The bridge and its surroundings were surrounded by troops, and ordinary people could not approach.

Day after day, Prince Fusu would either sit on the bridge writing documents, or cooking, or running back and forth across the bridge until he was drenched in sweat. After the tenth month, the weather grew colder. Tian An sat nearby, boiling water for the Prince, and whispered, "The old servant hears that it is still very hot in the Chu lands, and they can even harvest another crop. If only Guanzhong had four seasons like the Chu lands, that would be wonderful."

Fusu continued writing. Although the small seal script was tiring to write, he had grown accustomed to it. "If Guanzhong were like spring all year round, pests would cover the fields."

Tian An nodded, lost in thought. As an official, one must write documents. Fusu needed to finish the work his teacher, Zhang Cang, had left undone and complete the construction records. His teacher was the Chancellor's right-hand man, and for any major affair in the court, his teacher's assistance was indispensable. As a student, he had to learn to stand on his own. Fortunately, he had read many documents in the Censor's office last year, and the format of Great Qin's official documents was not complex.

The elder Xunzi once said: "Learning must never cease." If a person stops learning, they are like wood set in its shape by external force, losing its natural resilience. His treatise on learning had been of great benefit.

By the end of the tenth month, Fusu finally left the Xianyang Bridge, though he did not go far. He stayed with his guards upstream. Fusu watched people cautiously attempt to walk onto the bridge; some ran boldly to the other side, while others walked with great care. This bridge was meant for the people, and its purpose was to benefit those on both banks. If war were to break out in the future, the army could march west across the Xianyang Bridge; if the Xiongnu attacked, people could use the bridge to flee to Xianyang and receive the army's protection. The significance of the Xianyang Bridge went far beyond that; whether for the development of Guanzhong or the prosperity of both banks of the Wei River, this bridge was vital.

For the next few days, Fusu lived upstream on the Western Wei River, where he could see the bridge from afar and watch people crossing—old men, women, or merchants pulling carts. In these days, people crossing the bridge grew accustomed to the troops upstream. Today, a woman with a child came to the bridge, and the child pointed upstream, asking in a confused tone, "Mother, they are gone."

Hearing the child, people looked upstream, and indeed, the troops had departed. The people were curious for only a moment before continuing across the bridge. The construction of the Xianyang Bridge was finally over. As one of the main officials responsible, Fusu needed to report to the First Emperor, and only after receiving permission could these files be stored in the archives.

Fusu returned to the Xianyang Palace. The files on the bridge construction filled two crates, including accounts, construction records, and the name and wages of every laborer. In the future, one could open the files and find exactly which laborers from which county had participated in the construction, how much they were paid, and how many days they had served in corvée labor.

The Xianyang Palace was busy at this time. Fusu walked in front, followed by two rows of attendants carrying the two crates, struggling to keep up. Seeing Prince Fusu arrive, the armored guards at the foot of the Zhangtai Palace steps stepped forward. "Prince, the court session is still in progress."

Fusu waved his sleeves, signaling them to move the crates to the side, and stood by himself. The guards understood and said nothing more, returning to their posts. The court session was ongoing. He had arrived late, and if he had matters to report to the Emperor, he would simply stand there and wait until the session concluded. This was something Fusu had learned from his teacher, Zhang Cang.