Chapter 35: The Constrained Soul

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In truth, Mao Heng often found himself at odds with Shusun Tong, usually considering himself a gentleman’s guest. As Shusun Tong lectured the children on ideals like dedication and love for one’s post, Mao Heng discerned the underlying meaning. Zhang Han did not inquire where Mao Heng was headed; he merely handed him some provisions.

Currently, Zhang Cang was assisting Chancellor Li Si at court, and the young master had not been seen in this area recently. The next day, feeling bored, Mao Heng left Shangyan Mountain. Zhang Han glanced back at Shusun Tong, who was still teaching the children.

Despite its modest size, Shangyan Mountain was rife with hidden struggles, and Zhang Han sensed they had already passed the midpoint in constructing the canal. Noticing Zhang Han’s gaze, Shusun Tong approached and asked, “General Zhang Han, is something troubling you?”

Zhang Han, with his usual solemn expression, replied, “Why did you have Mao Heng leave?”

Shusun Tong whispered, “He, Chancellor Li Si, and Inspector Zhang Cang are all disciples of Xunzi.”

“And so?”

“May I ask, once the canal is completed, might Mao Heng claim the credit?”

Seeing Zhang Han’s displeasure, Shusun Tong patiently continued, “Last night I read the young master’s letter. The so-called ‘post’ means placing each person in a fixed position that cannot be easily shaken, and with responsibility attached. Tell me, General, if Mao Heng were to remain here indefinitely, would he accept that?”

After a year of acquaintance, Zhang Han knew Mao Heng’s character well.

Shusun Tong added, “A man skilled in poetry won’t stay long in one place. Allowing Mao Heng to stay is also for your benefit, General Zhang Han.”

As Zhang Han prepared to leave swiftly, Shusun Tong called out, “You are loyal beyond doubt, General, but you must also consider your own interests.”

Hearing this, Zhang Han paused. Seeing he was persuaded, Shusun Tong said, “The young master now serves as Deputy Director of the Minor Treasury, overseeing waterworks. What of the future?”

Zhang Han turned sharply, glaring at Shusun Tong, his voice low but firm: “How dare you speculate about the young master?”

“Not at all, only to ease your concerns, General.”

Seeing Zhang Han storm away, Shusun Tong sighed softly. Now, only General Zhang Han and he held authority over Shangyan Mountain. To ease tensions, Shusun Tong wrote a letter to be sent to Zhangtai Palace.

Three days later, a reply came from the young master at Gaoquan Palace. When Shusun Tong placed the letter before Zhang Han, he did not read it but asked, “Did you dare disturb the young master over this matter?”

Shusun Tong answered quietly, “This concerns the stability of Shangyan Mountain. There can only be one person in charge here, and it must be you, General Zhang Han—not Mao Heng. If Mao Heng were to claim that role, do you think the young master would not find himself torn between Chancellor Li Si, Zhang Cang, and you?”

After struggling internally, Zhang Han took the letter to read carefully.

Shusun Tong explained, “I advised the young master on managing Shangyan Mountain. He said henceforth I would handle official correspondence for this place and neighboring counties, while General Zhang Han commands all troops and servants here, overseeing canal construction.”

In essence, one manages civil affairs, the other military—complementing each other.

Shusun Tong continued, “The young master also said to recommend any such matters freely. Such openness to counsel shows his wisdom.”

Zhang Han, after reading, was silent for a long time, his heart wavering. Yet wary of scholars’ cunning, he nodded and said, “If I become useless in the future, will you also advise the young master to remove me?”

Shusun Tong replied, “General, you worry too much.”

There were things Zhang Han did not know, but as for recent events in Xianyang Palace, Shusun Tong had heard some whispers.

The young master now served as Deputy Director of the Minor Treasury, would become Director in time, then ascend among the Nine Ministers, and eventually—perhaps—the second emperor?

At least, it appeared so for now.

Shusun Tong spoke softly, “Our young master is earnest and studious. Serving him is no misfortune. Zhang Cang serves the Chancellor, and the young master will not always focus here. He has also instructed me to work in harmony with you.”

Reassessing Shusun Tong, Zhang Han took a deep breath and said, “I shall follow the young master’s arrangements.”

In the days that followed, Shusun Tong not only continued teaching the village children but also oversaw local affairs.

One day, Zhang Han carried a stone tablet to the upper reaches of the canal. Inscribed were five characters: “Dedication and Commitment Canal.”

This name was bestowed by the young master, Fusu, and henceforth, it became the canal’s name.

Zhang Han felt it was both a reminder to himself and a message to the world—to cherish one’s post with devotion.

Though Shusun Tong was not as adept at managing affairs as Zhang Cang, he managed sufficiently, assigning posts to the people of Shangyan Mountain, all aimed at canal construction.

This made the people sense that this land was truly changing.

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For the servants, life had changed greatly; they now had ample stored grain and no longer feared hunger.

Within Xianyang Palace, Fusu had been busy overseeing Minor Treasury affairs. As Deputy Director, his responsibilities were chiefly waterworks and craftsmen, with other duties still under Right Prime Minister Feng Quji’s control.

During recent court discussions, Fusu met Feng Jie. When Li Si was Minister of Justice, the position was later handed to Feng Jie when Li Si became Chancellor.

Since the Chancellor was once the Minister of Justice, the court and officials held the current Minister of Justice in higher regard.

Sitting at that post, Feng Jie pondered whether Li Si had orchestrated this.

Feng Jie accompanied the young master Fusu out of Zhangtai Palace after the council session. To onlookers, Fusu appeared ever closer to Li Si’s faction.

So much so, that recently Chunyu Yue left the palace with a scowl after each council meeting.

People speculated on Fusu’s intentions: perhaps seeking to become the next emperor with support from Li Si’s faction, continuing Legalist policies, and possibly even advocating Xunzi’s teachings.

Descending the steps of Zhangtai Palace, Feng Jie said, “Yesterday, His Majesty and the Chancellor visited Xianyang Bridge. The young master’s management of its construction astonished the Chancellor and earned the Emperor’s praise.”

Feng Jie, looking about Li Si’s age but darker-skinned, spoke with evident admiration.

Fusu replied modestly, “I only hope the bridge is well-built; I don’t claim it’s perfect.”

Feng Jie pressed, “I heard the young master imposed posts at Shangyan Mountain. As Minister of Justice overseeing criminal cases, may I visit?”

Fusu answered, “By all means, Minister of Justice, please do.”

“Thank you, young master.”

Fusu assured, “Rest assured, all arrangements at Shangyan Mountain conform strictly to Qin law, with no overstepping.”

Feng Jie bowed again, “I take my leave.”

With autumn’s arrival, official documents to the Inspector’s office increased. Fusu entered as usual, sitting down to review them.

After Qin unified the six states, the population sharply declined; war had nearly emptied the lands of people. In the former Qi territory, much farmland lay fallow and uncultivated.

Through several forced relocations by Li Si, most people moved to Guanzhong, with some sent to the frontier.

Now, the issue in much of the Central Plains was not lack of land but too much abandoned farmland.

War had nearly wiped out a generation. Fusu recalled the old Qin soldiers he saw at Hangu Pass.

How long would it take to revive the realm’s vitality—ten, twenty years?

With the population dwindled, productivity fell drastically, and grain output was less than half of what it was during the Warring States.

Under such strain, troops still had to defend against the Xiongnu. Given scarce resources, they had to ensure both border defense and supply for the army.

Hence, Chancellor Li Si decided to relocate people to the frontier to both farm and support troops.

Fusu studied incoming reports; counties detailed their situations.

Qin’s path to strength was arduous, and even the great Qin still faced challenges.

In late autumn, frost blanketed the ground each morning.

Today, Feng Jie came early to the Dedication and Commitment Canal—dug at young master Fusu’s order, with a long, meaningful name.

“Dedication and commitment?” Feng Jie murmured, puzzled, before entering the village.

Morning sunlight had just reached the village, where children wielded sticks, practicing striking motions.

Feng Jie shivered in the cold wind and approached.

Just as he was about to speak, a soldier stepped forward, asking, “Who are you?”

Feng Jie produced his bronze tally from his sleeve.

Seeing this, the soldier realized he was the Minister of Justice, one of the Nine Ministers, and saluted quickly.

Feng Jie smiled warmly, “These are the young master’s servants?”

“Yes, sir.”

Feng Jie nodded, “These children look strong and healthy.”

The soldier replied, “This land yields bountiful harvests year after year; naturally, the children grow robust.”

Feng Jie walked further into the village, saying, “Continue your training with the children. I will look around but won’t disturb General Zhang Han.”

The village was orderly, with small stones paving the ground, crunching softly underfoot.

As the sun fully rose, every household emerged. Feng Jie saw a large group of children running home for meals, then racing back for lessons.

Feng Jie recognized Shusun Tong but kept distant so as not to disturb.

When Zhang Han noticed him, Feng Jie smiled awkwardly and bowed, “I came to inspect as the young master permitted.”

Zhang Han nodded, “No need for formalities, Minister of Justice.”

“This Dedication and Commitment Canal has drawn much discussion. I came personally to inquire, hoping I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all.”

Warm sunlight melted the frost, and the village sprang to life. Everyone began their daily labors.

Besides the children and Feng Jie himself, all had work to do—elderly women weaving clothes, others preparing meals.

Feng Jie stayed the day, observing quietly.

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The next day, in Chancellor Li Si’s office, he examined reports arriving from all regions.

Beside him sat Inspector Zhang Cang, sorting through documents.

These were reports sent after the imperial edict standardizing script and measurements.

The Chancellor had previously declared that unifying script and axle lengths was a top priority, and the Emperor’s decree placed immense pressure on the local governments.

Bundles of bamboo slips piled high in the Chancellor’s office, almost a person’s height, and still more arrived daily.

The Chancellor’s office was at its busiest.

Feng Jie briskly entered, holding a scroll of bamboo slips. Bowing, he announced, “Chancellor, I have important reports.”

Li Si unrolled one bundle, eyes fixed on the text, his brow furrowed slightly upon hearing this.

A clerk noticed the Chancellor’s expression, took the report from Feng Jie, and placed it on the Chancellor’s desk.

Then the clerk stood by, awaiting instructions.

Time passed quietly. Many officials came and went, but the Chancellor kept reviewing documents.

Inspector Zhang Cang sat writing continuously, handing completed slips away and immediately starting anew.

Finally, Li Si looked up at Feng Jie. “Do you have more to report?”

Feng Jie began, “The report—”

Li Si glanced at the unopened bundle, “I will read it myself. You may leave.”

Seeing more bamboo slips brought in, Feng Jie bowed, wanting to say more but seeing the office so busy, swallowed his words, bowed again, and departed.

Meanwhile, at Gaoquan Palace, Fusu listened as Tian An reported that Feng Jie had visited Shangyan Mountain and submitted a report.

“Young master, the Chancellor is busy reviewing documents and has no time for Feng Jie.”

“All at Shangyan Mountain is within regulation, so there is no cause for concern.”

Tian An lowered his voice, anxious, “Those scholars from Qi and Lu dare accuse the young master of exploiting the servants.”

Fusu sat on a low stool, cleaning a fish.

Tian An continued, “They say the young master made the servants work all day digging the canal until dark—no better than conscripted labor.”

Here, Tian An dared not say more, fearing to displease the young master, but inwardly resolved to have the Chancellor deal with those scholars.

Fusu finished preparing the fish, placing it aside, then melted mutton fat in a clay pot with scallions and ginger, adding the fish.

Once seared, he poured in clear water and covered the pot.

While the fish soup simmered, Fusu finally had some leisure. Sitting by the stove, sipping warm water, he mused aloud, “Whether canals or reclaiming land—”

“Wasteland becomes fertile fields, fertile fields yield grain. This is earned through labor. Labor produces grain, and grain is wealth.”