Chapter One: Living in Great Qin, the Sovereign Favors Longyang?

361 BC.

A decree seeking talent, issued by Lord Ying Quliang of Qin, shook the entire realm. With bold words—“Let us govern Qin together and share its land”—he sought to gather heroes from every corner.

On the official road leading to Liyang, the capital of Qin, a carriage sped furiously along.

From the jolting compartment came the heart-rending howls of a young man.

“Help! I’m being abducted in broad daylight!” he screamed.

The curtain of the carriage fluttered wildly, briefly revealing a youth in a blue robe struggling inside.

Peasants by the roadside stopped and pointed, whispering, “Goodness, they’re kidnapping men now? The world’s gone mad.”

“Isn’t that the Lord’s own carriage?”

“Hurry, spread the word—the Lord has a taste for young men…”

Inside the carriage, a man clamped a hand over the youth’s mouth, pleading in panic, “Ancestor! Please, young master!”

“I beg you, stop screaming! You’ll ruin the Lord’s good name!”

The youth in blue finally quieted down, rolling his eyes. “For the eight-hundredth time, I’m Zhao Zheng, not some Guiguzi.”

Inwardly, Zhao Zheng lamented. He truly understood the meaning of misfortune; even drinking cold water would get stuck in his teeth.

Ten years ago, he had the “good luck” to be transported to Handan in the State of Zhao, only to land in slavery, living worse than a guard dog.

Worse still, not long after, a filthy, half-crazy old man abducted him to a desolate, godforsaken mountain forest.

Ten whole years! Cut off from the world, living like a caveman.

The only silver lining was that the old man forced him to learn every skill imaginable—arcane arts, political stratagems—all secret techniques of the highest order.

The unkempt old man wanted Zhao Zheng to go down the mountain to Qin, repay a favor, and make his own name.

But Zhao Zheng had only ever wanted to laze about in the mountains, wait out the turbulent times, and return to his own era to scroll on his phone.

Just this morning, he’d been sleeping soundly when two burly men burst in, stuffed his mouth, and carried him off without a word.

By the time he came to his senses, he was already in this runaway carriage, with this fellow by his side insisting he was Guiguzi.

No matter how Zhao Zheng tried to explain, the man refused to listen.

Glancing at the unfamiliar scenery flying past the window, Zhao Zheng sighed in despair.

“So much for my plan to loaf around in the mountains and wait for death.”

“Whoa—stop!”

The carriage halted before a palace. The man who had ridden with Zhao Zheng got out first and respectfully said, “Sir, forgive the offense along the road. We have arrived.”

Zhao Zheng climbed out, dispirited, and looked up—Liyang Palace.

“Liyang Palace? So this is the capital of Qin?”

He turned to the attendant, puzzled. “Who is the current ruler of Qin?”

The man answered respectfully, “The ruler is Lord Ying Quliang, son of the late lord.”

Ying Quliang?

Zhao Zheng thought for a moment. Wasn’t this the famed Duke Xiao of Qin?

This was the man of great ambition who laid the foundation for Qin’s unification.

The attendant bowed again. “I am Jing Jian. Forgive my earlier rudeness. Please wait here while I inform the lord.”

With that, he dashed into the palace.

Jing Jian? The one who had abducted him was Jing Jian?

Historically, Jing Jian was Ying Quliang’s right-hand man, the one who recommended talents like Shang Yang.

Zhao Zheng’s thoughts raced. Something wasn’t right. Why would Jing Jian seek out Guiguzi?

And he himself wasn’t Guiguzi! Guiguzi was the legendary strategist, later dubbed the “troublemaker” of the Warring States.

All he’d done was learn a bit of arcane arts and strategy from a disheveled old man…

Wait—arcane arts, political stratagems…

Zhao Zheng carefully recalled what he’d learned from the old man.

Damn, wasn’t that ragged old man Guiguzi himself?

What kind of old man at home knows skills capable of toppling the world?

Zhao Zheng suddenly felt a silk scroll in his pocket.

Opening it, he found a line of small characters:

“You are the greatest variable in these troubled times.”

Did the old man know he was a time traveler?

Zhao Zheng kept reading.

“I, the old man, have gone wandering. When you’ve repaid my debt, I’ll come and explain everything.”

A debt? Zhao Zheng was stunned—Guiguzi owed someone a favor?

As he pondered, two elderly men—grumbling—emerged from Liyang Palace.

The one in front was gaunt, with a white beard down to his chest, dressed in black official robes with wide sleeves. His face was etched with the marks of time, brows furrowed as if containing endless fury.

Beside him walked another old man with sallow skin and sharp eyes, his narrow-sleeved dark robe meticulously arranged, exuding the pride of an old noble.

The second old man cursed as he walked, spitting as he spoke: “Grand Minister, we should have snuffed out that brat from the start.”

Grand Minister? This was the renowned Gan Long of Qin!

Zhao Zheng could barely hide his astonishment.

The other must be his sidekick, Du Zhi.

“Hmph, just a snot-nosed brat,” Gan Long snorted. “Let him prance around for a while.”

“I heard this morning that Ying Quliang sent Jing Jian to invite the Sage of Guigu out of seclusion. What if…”

Du Zhi looked worried.

Gan Long’s eyes darkened. “If someone’s a problem, we deal with them. Even Lord Xian had to compromise with us. How could a newly crowned youth turn the world upside down?”

“Besides, is the Sage of Guigu someone a boy like him could invite down from the mountain?”

The two strode off, exuding a deadly aura, paying no heed to Zhao Zheng atop the steps.

So, he’d just arrived in Qin and already these two old cutthroats were after him?

As Zhao Zheng stared in speechless frustration, Jing Jian returned, leading a young man in a dark ceremonial robe with wide sleeves, moving with the steadiness of a mountain, exuding the natural authority of a king.

This was none other than the young King of Qin, Ying Quliang.

“Sir, I apologize for the wait.”

Ying Quliang approached swiftly, his manner humble, devoid of any kingly airs, and gave a formal bow.

Zhao Zheng eyed him askance. “Why did the Lord of Qin have me dragged down the mountain?”

“Dragged?”

Ying Quliang’s expression turned icy, his gaze sharp as a blade as he fixed on Jing Jian.

Seeing Jing Jian’s evasive eyes, he instantly understood. “I told you to invite the sage, and you dared to kidnap him?”

Jing Jian quickly defended himself, “It wasn’t my idea, my lord. When we reached the mountain, a ragged old man told us the Sage of Guigu could fly and disappear at will, so it would be safest to tie him up and bring him down… So we…”

A ragged old man?

Zhao Zheng instantly understood and cursed inwardly: “Guiguzi, you sly old fox! All I wanted was to hide on the mountain, but you set a trap for me!”

Ying Quliang’s face darkened as he glared at Jing Jian. “Nonsense! The sage is a man of transcendent virtue. How could you treat him so rudely?”

After scolding Jing Jian, Ying Quliang turned apologetically to Zhao Zheng. “Sir, it was my fault. Please do not take offense. You have come from afar; allow me to host you first.”

He made it impossible for Zhao Zheng to refuse, leading the way to the palace.

Seeing the young king’s genuine sincerity, Zhao Zheng thought, “Fine… I’ll see what happens first.”

At this time, Qin was dirt poor, yet the table set before Zhao Zheng was piled high with all kinds of meat—a clear sign they had done their utmost.

Ying Quliang spoke earnestly, “Sir, I know a mere favor is not enough to bring you down from the mountain.”

“But Qin is beset by crises within and without. I beg you to save my state.”

With that, Ying Quliang respectfully bowed deeply.

Damn, the old man’s debt was owed to Ying Quliang.

Zhao Zheng’s mouth twitched. Was he now to take the fall for Guiguzi?

He sighed inwardly. He was in trouble; Qin was not a pleasant place at this moment.

(Important note: This book does not follow the usual Qin trilogy.)