The warm pavilion of Xianyang Palace swept away its usual solemn silence. The King of Qin’s rough laughter penetrated the casement window’s barrier, echoing above the palace halls. The eunuchs and palace maids waiting outside the corridor quietly exchanged glances, their expressions all relaxing.

The previous period, because of tense frontline warfare plus various large and small incidents in the palace, everyone had been in danger, fearing becoming collateral damage. Fortunately, this morning’s battle report made that suffocating atmosphere vanish into thin air.

Should be able to relax for a while, right? Look—the King of Qin even had someone bring young prince Hu Hai over during deliberations!

Regardless of how the eunuchs and palace maids in the corridor secretly rejoiced, the several people sitting in the warm pavilion each had different thoughts.

Fu Su smiled as he watched his little brother Hu Hai nestled in Father King’s embrace, holding a ball of silk cloth and giggling. Hu Hai’s mother consort was Hu—the child she bore, Hu Hai, inherited her fair skin and deep features. Though barely two years old, he already showed budding beauty. The King of Qin couldn’t bear to put him down, this time even breaking precedent by holding him during deliberations.

Jianglü, sitting beside him, heavily set down the bamboo scroll in his hands. But his force was still controlled—the sound produced didn’t attract the King of Qin and others’ attention.

Fu Su faintly glanced with peripheral vision at his foolish fourth brother. Even if he qualified to enter this deliberation warm pavilion, obviously his mind hadn’t matured—he couldn’t even conceal jealous and envious emotions.

But this might be what Father King hoped to see.

Fu Su didn’t take Jianglü seriously. Perhaps in a few years he’d become a moderate stumbling block, but using him for sharpening was quite good. As for little brother Hu Hai… Fu Su curved his lips. A mixed-blood child born by a Hu courtesan, even named Hai—meaning little pig. Very obviously being raised as a pet. Was Jianglü really worth viewing him as a thorn in the eye, a thorn in the flesh?

Perhaps because he had too many sons, when the King of Qin’s first few sons were born, he still seriously considered their names. His own name “Fu Su” came from “the mountain has Fu Su.” Jianglü’s meaning was also about mutual support within the family gates, hoping Jianglü could assist him. As his brothers were born one after another, Father King’s naming became increasingly perfunctory—even thinking up names like Hu Hai.

Fu Su was extremely grateful his own name sounded good and extremely sympathetic to little brother. After growing up with such a name, how could he hold his head up? Look, wrapped up like a meatball, he really did look like a plump little pig.

Since Hu Hai’s birth year, Father King opened the campaign to conquer the six states and destroyed Han—the opening completely smooth. So Hu Hai was deeply favored by Father King, breaking many precedents.

However, such favor might also be because Hu Hai was perhaps his last child.

Fu Su had already noticed that since Father King turned his energy toward the unification enterprise, he seldom favored the rear palace, often deliberating through the night, not stepping into the rear palace for long periods.

This had advantages. He already had enough brothers—a full twenty-three, not to mention the sisters he couldn’t even count. He didn’t need more latecomers at all. Moreover, those rear palace consorts’ influence was also rapidly declining. Though not high before, now it almost directly equaled zero.

This was also good, reducing many variables.

Perhaps Fu Su’s contemplative gaze was too focused. The King of Qin noticed his eldest son constantly staring at the silk cloth he used to amuse his son. Thinking he also wanted it, he smiled, pried the silk ball from Hu Hai’s fingers, and casually tossed it over.

Fu Su reflexively caught the silk ball but because he was distracted, didn’t hold it firmly. Only managing to grasp one end, the other end’s rolled silk dropped directly down, rolling quite far without stopping.

Having always presented himself as steady before others, Fu Su rarely had such awkward moments. He froze for a moment, not knowing how to react.

Hu Hai in his arms brightened his eyes, as if learning a new game. He reached toward the desk. Stacked on the desk were dozens of such rolled silk balls. Hu Hai directly used his hands to shake them open one by one, playing and giggling “gege.”

The King of Qin didn’t scold his mischief but indulgently laughed heartily.

With Hu Hai’s interruption, no one noticed Fu Su’s embarrassment. Instead, the usually neat warm pavilion quickly became a place where silk strips flew about, adding several degrees of joyful atmosphere.

The silk cloth was densely written with characters. Fu Su glanced and saw many listed items.

These were all spoils of war from Zhao’s royal palace that General Wang Jian organized after destroying Zhao. General Wang Jian first sent the detailed list—the actual treasures would gradually be sent back to Xianyang later.

Perhaps because the other’s former treasures had now become playthings in an infant’s hands, the King of Qin’s mood grew increasingly joyful. He immediately made a promise to take out fifty percent of the spoils to reward the princes and ministers.

“Since you’re holding that scroll and won’t let go, let it all be bestowed upon you.” The King of Qin generously smiled at Fu Su.

Feeling Jianglü’s envious and hateful gaze transfer from Hu Hai to himself, Fu Su respectfully and sincerely expressed thanks, re-rolled the silk in his hands, and placed it in his sleeve.

This silk scroll didn’t list swords, shields, or halberds that would arouse Father King’s wariness, nor priceless gold vessels that could be sold. Rather, it listed precious bronze vessels—many from the Shang and Zhou periods, antiques whose symbolic meaning exceeded practical meaning. This was also why the King of Qin could casually be so generous.

Mm, his attendant reader should really like these…

Because of a terrible beginning with his attendant reader, causing the latter to be bullied by others and nearly dying without anyone knowing, Fu Su deeply regretted it and tried every method hoping to please the other.

But his attendant reader wasn’t as easy to approach as a real twelve-year-old child. Fu Su didn’t know where to start. A few days ago, seeing his attendant reader use charcoal sticks to draw bronze vessel shapes on wooden pieces—probably to help that Ying kid recognize them—he thought if there were actual objects, it would probably be more convenient.

Just thinking about finding an opportunity to ask Father King to open the private treasury for a look, he obtained so many antique bronze vessels out of thin air. Fu Su’s mood had been quite good, and now even his smile had several degrees more sincerity. Many people noticed his abnormality but didn’t think much of it. After all, hard-as-bone Zhao had finally been captured by Qin. From the King of Qin above to peddlers and common laborers below, all could hardly suppress their joyful feelings.

In this nationwide celebration, if someone went about with a worried face all day, they’d become extremely conspicuous.

The green-robed youth had such a person beside him.

Since news came that Zhao’s capital Handan was conquered, Ying had been depressed for a long time. Because his yet-unmet father Chengjiao had betrayed Qin and surrendered to Zhao. Now that Zhao was destroyed, King Zheng of Qin absolutely couldn’t possibly leave alive the world’s only brother sufficient to threaten his throne. Chengjiao’s life had actually been predetermined since he lost the throne struggle to King Zheng of Qin.

Ying could think this through clearly, but thinking clearly didn’t mean he could accept it.

“Don’t think too much.” The young Superior Minister put down the bamboo scroll in his hands. This was already the fifth time tonight Ying had spaced out. Even if understandable, the young Superior Minister felt somewhat irritable. If Ying had no mind for lessons, why should he teach him? Better to use this time reading several more scrolls himself.

Caiwei, attending on the side while sneaking audit lessons, quickly came forward with tea and water. Though they still lived in Luming Residence, the furnishings were completely renewed. Not only were eight oil lamps fully lit, bright as daylight, two braziers also burned. Even Pure Harmony incense was lit. The room filled with a fragrance that calmed the heart.

“A Luo, don’t be angry.” Ying also noticed his little companion’s irritable mood. Directly shameless, he pressed close, rubbing ingratiatingly behind the green-robed youth like a small beast. The eldest prince had sent many kinds of green long robes. Today the youth wore a jade-green mingwei deep garment, collar and sleeves embroidered with cloud patterns in gold thread, giving the fabric a thick draping feel. Of course, it also felt good. Ying couldn’t help rubbing his face against it a few more times. After rubbing, he didn’t forget to raise his hand and touch the green-robed youth’s cheek. Smooth—no scars at all. Heaven knows how angry he was that night seeing injured A Luo return. Fortunately, no scar remained. Who exactly was so hateful!

“Let’s stop here tonight.” Even with more anger, he couldn’t get mad at his little companion. The green-robed youth wouldn’t admit he was soft-hearted but sighed lightly and began organizing the scrolls in his hands. Seeing this, Caiwei also quickly set down the teapot, wiped her hands clean, and helped.

“A Luo, those bronze vessel shapes you taught me a few days ago—I’ve memorized them all!” Seeing the situation turning bad, Ying quickly claimed merit. His mother consort remarried before he was even one year old, abandoning him still in swaddling clothes. He’d grown up alone since childhood. Finally making a friend, he’d never forget that pitch-black night when this young Superior Minister lit the oil lamp in his room—like his completely dark life, making him rekindle hope. He absolutely wouldn’t let go.

The green-robed youth turned to glance at Ying, backhanded him lightly on the forehead, and said flatly, “Good. Tomorrow I’ll test you.”

Ying’s heart “thumped.” He thought to himself tonight he should temporarily cram Buddha’s feet and look twice more.

The green-robed youth watched him obediently open those wooden pieces, but his heart thought of other matters.

According to Yaoying, the carts and horses transporting Zhao’s spoils could enter the city tomorrow. King Zheng of Qin had personally gone to Handan days ago—first to personally reward General Wang Jian’s army at the front, second probably to retaliate against those who offended him when he was hostage in Zhao years ago. Xianyang City was now presided over by eldest prince Fu Su with no one supervising. Naturally uninhibited, probably tomorrow they could come out showing off.

Sure enough, the next day, Zhao’s spoils were high-profilely displayed before Xianyang Palace gates in the great square amid citizens’ thunderous cheers. Of course, the portion of bronze antiques belonging to Fu Su had already been personally sent to Luming Residence. On the garden’s open ground, they were neatly arranged in a large spread. These were still selected differently-shaped vessels displayed—duplicates had long been sent into storage.

Newly smelted bronze vessels were all brilliant gold-colored. Only buried underground, due to soil erosion, would they gradually turn blue-green, thus called bronze vessels. Moreover, whether made by piece-mold casting, lost-wax casting, or casting-on methods, because the mold clay pieces must be smashed after one use to extract the form, every bronze vessel was unique.

These bronze vessels arrayed before them each shone brilliantly in sunlight, emanating indescribable solemn grandeur. Regardless of size or varied shapes, the faint copper green patina on them all represented thousands of years of accumulated history, making people feel solemn respect at first glance.

The various princes and royal youths living in Luming Residence, plus ministers waiting to submit memorials and feedback, all stood beside watching. After all, so many varieties of bronze vessels were rarely seen except at sacrificial ceremonies. Moreover, many Shang and Zhou period vessel shapes passed down to now—some eliminated, some improved. Several bronze vessels many people couldn’t even recognize their use, gathering in twos and threes discussing.

The green-robed youth also brought Ying wandering among these bronze vessels, not only to examine Ying’s knowledge of bronze vessels but also to verify items on the silk list one by one.

Fu Su sat in Luming Residence’s great hall. He still had to handle many governmental affairs. After his father king walked away with a sleeve flick, all Xianyang City’s large and small matters required his handling. Though assisted by the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers, this was Fu Su’s first time personally governing. Naturally, he wanted to do everything best.

Occasionally raising his head from bamboo scrolls, seeing his young attendant reader expertly inventorying bronze vessels, he secretly praised.

Traditionally inherited noble families were all called “families of bells and cauldrons.” Previously, this meant great noble families all ate striking bells and arranging cauldrons. But now “families of bells and cauldrons” meant only truly inherited noble families could store these precious bronze vessels in storerooms, letting disciples recognize, touch, even occasionally use them. So this time Fu Su brought out obtained bronze vessels to sun, also to let his brothers gain more knowledge—a required course.

Just unexpectedly, his young attendant reader was also extensively knowledgeable. The Gan family had long declined since Gan Mao’s generation, yet could still cultivate such talent.

This young Superior Minister today wore a peacock green silk garment. Because today’s occasion was fairly formal, he also wore an outer crab-shell green robe, waist also carrying the ceremonial ribbon and jade pendant set symbolizing his official rank, feet in plain round shoes. Though when Fu Su first met him, the other dressed this solemnly, recently such sights were rare. Suddenly seeing it now, he appeared more stable than at first meeting.

Because the governmental affairs in his hands weren’t urgently important, Fu Su occasionally looked up and outside. It didn’t take long to mostly finish. Having Gu Cun distribute reviewed memorials by category, Fu Su took several scrolls he’d always hesitated over, rose, and walked out of Luming Residence’s great hall. Noon’s sunlight shone directly overhead. Though outdoor air was icy cold, it also dispelled the indoor chill. Looking at this open ground’s dense mass of people, Fu Su deeply exhaled, feeling the burden on his shoulders incomparably heavy.

Father King left Qin territory without looking back—first to rectify former enemies, second to train his governing abilities. But could he truly steadily receive these magnificent rivers and mountains of Qin?

Watching scrolls reviewed by him distributed for execution one by one, orders also efficiently allocated accordingly, Fu Su never had a moment like now so deeply experiencing the power he possessed.

Or should say, the power he would possess in future.

If others, perhaps they’d become intoxicated and dizzy in power’s brewed wine. But this moment Fu Su was incomparably alert.

Coming together with power was responsibility.

To wear the crown, one must bear its weight.

He shouldered the expectations of all Qin’s subjects, high and low. With each memorial reviewed, he had to rack his brains thinking whether his decisions would cause unforeseen consequences.

Perhaps Father King saw through this point, deliberately temporarily departing, giving him sufficient time to experience and adapt to all this.

Hearing light footsteps, Fu Su withdrew his gaze gazing into the distance, just in time to see the young Superior Minister roll up the silk in his hands and walk over with an indifferent expression.