215 BC, Thirty-Second Year of Emperor Qin Shihuang
Sun Shuo jogged to keep up with Hu Hai as they hurried through the imperial garden. In the blink of an eye, the young master he served had already turned fifteen—tall and graceful, with a face like fine jade, an extremely handsome young man. His young master held noble status as Emperor Shihuang’s most beloved youngest son. Even if he walked sideways through the imperial palace, absolutely no one would say anything.
However, Sun Shuo knew Hu Hai was not happy.
Though Emperor Shihuang had found Zhao Gao to be his tutor back then, soon after, Zhao Gao was promoted to Master of Insignia and Seals, managing all the emperor’s official seals, making it difficult for him to spare time to teach Hu Hai. So Hu Hai spent his days with nothing to do, wandering aimlessly throughout the palace.
Of course, this was the palace attendants’ misconception. Only Sun Shuo, who stayed with Hu Hai constantly, knew that though his young master wandered randomly through the imperial palace daily, he would ultimately stop at a secluded spot outside the warm pavilion of Xianyang Palace and remain there all day.
Because from here, he could eavesdrop on Emperor Shihuang’s court discussions. Sun Shuo knew Hu Hai’s eavesdropping wasn’t a problem, but if he, a mere attendant, heard things he shouldn’t, the consequences would be severe. So he always stood far away, keeping watch for his young master. He watched from afar as Hu Hai stood in the shadows, sunlight filtering through dense foliage, creating dappled light and shadow on his body, making his slender figure in those heavy robes appear increasingly fragile.
Sun Shuo sighed silently. His young master’s habit of standing all day had actually formed long ago. When still very young, the young master had loved visiting First Prince Fu Su’s study. The first prince had welcomed his visits warmly—after all, Hu Hai was a lovable child who, even when he couldn’t understand, would neither fuss nor make noise, only stare intently with those bright, clear eyes that no one could refuse. But later, Emperor Shihuang said Hu Hai would interfere with the first prince’s studies and firmly forbade him from going to Prince Fu Su’s study. So Hu Hai stood outside the study to secretly listen. Later, when Prince Fu Su could participate in court discussions at Xianyang Palace, Hu Hai’s position shifted to outside the warm pavilion of Xianyang Palace.
Sun Shuo shifted his somewhat numb feet, transferring his body weight from one foot to the other. These little tricks were passed down orally among palace attendants—only this way could one stand for an entire day. That such techniques were needed by the noble young master seemed incredible to Sun Shuo.
As he aged, Sun Shuo began to understand things he hadn’t before.
For example, why Emperor Shihuang satisfied all the young master’s desires yet was unwilling to let him study. Why he felt so secure in spoiling him, elevating him to the heavens, readily bestowing any treasure without batting an eye, yet books and swords were not among them.
Because Emperor Shihuang saw him as a son, while viewing First Prince Fu Su as the empire’s heir.
Emperor Shihuang was nitpicking with the first prince, but the more severe the emperor’s attitude, the more it demonstrated his high expectations for the first prince. The more he indulged the young master, the more it showed he didn’t take the young master seriously.
Hu Hai had once privately told him that he was deliberately spoiled, deliberately demanding various rare treasures, because Emperor Shihuang always satisfied him without changing expression. But Sun Shuo knew the young master didn’t want these cold, glittering, eye-dazzling things. He just enjoyed seeing the dejected expression on the first prince’s face after successfully obtaining treasures from Emperor Shihuang.
One craved recognition, the other craved paternal love—both were blessed yet didn’t realize their fortune…
Sun Shuo looked at the sun’s position and went first to a nearby pavilion to prepare refreshments and clear water. Soon after, he saw his young master approaching with an unwilling expression. He quickly prepared cushions and tested the cup’s temperature—neither hot nor cold, just right.
But seeing Hu Hai sit down without drinking, instead biting the nail of his left thumb with a gloomy expression.
Sun Shuo knew Hu Hai dreamed of sitting legitimately in Xianyang Palace, but this dream seemed difficult to realize. He reached out to stop his young master’s inelegant behavior. He didn’t know when this bad habit had formed—whenever Hu Hai became agitated, he would unconsciously bite his nails, and no amount of correction could stop it.
“Sun Shuo, this isn’t fair.” Hu Hai kept his handsome face taut, speaking word by word. Though he only said six simple words without elaborating, Sun Shuo, who had served him long, could understand his meaning. He was unwilling—why could that person study and practice calligraphy with the imperial brother, participate in court discussions together, while he couldn’t even cross the threshold?
Sun Shuo took out a clean silk cloth from his chest, carefully wiping Hu Hai’s left hand clean, looking with some pity at the stubby nails bitten down. His young master’s hands were beautiful, but these nails truly looked unsightly. Should he have the young master wear gloves at all times?
“Sun Shuo!” Hu Hai couldn’t wait for Sun Shuo’s answer and irritably waved his hand, knocking the silk cloth to the ground.
Sun Shuo wasn’t angry—his young master was always like this. He meekly bent to pick up the silk cloth, then untied the princely gold seal from Hu Hai’s waist. Under Hu Hai’s puzzled gaze, he took out a roughly crafted bronze weight from his own chest.
Seeing both small objects quietly placed on the table, Hu Hai noticed the bronze weight still bore an inscription from the twenty-sixth year of Emperor Qin Shihuang’s reign, and couldn’t help frowning: “Isn’t this the bronze weight and scale Zhao Gao gave me when we first met? Why do you carry it with you?” He remembered losing interest after a few days and carelessly throwing it somewhere.
Sun Shuo’s face reddened slightly. This bronze weight weighed the same as the princely gold seal—he had a subtle feeling this bronze weight held special significance, which was why he carried it close to his body. He cleared his throat before saying: “Young Master, Sun Shuo still remembers this bronze weight has the same weight as your gold seal.”
Hu Hai nodded, smiling with nostalgia: “Correct, I personally weighed them.”
Seeing his mood improve slightly, Sun Shuo considered briefly before continuing: “Young Master, Sun Shuo dares to say this bronze weight is like your servant—commonly seen throughout the Great Qin Empire, circulating in markets and streets. While this princely gold seal represents you, Young Master—infinitely precious, unique in this world.”
“Oh? This comparison is novel.” Hu Hai raised his eyebrows, somewhat curious about what Sun Shuo would say next.
“Yet this bronze weight has the same weight as your princely gold seal. In some sense, this is fair, because we all possess the same life, living in this world.” Sun Shuo smiled.
“That’s not wrong.” Hu Hai picked up the cup before him and drank some water: “You’re not going to say next that this is still unfair because our positions differ, are you?”
Sun Shuo said in a low voice: “Young Master, the Master of Insignia and Seals once taught you that fairness exists in this world, but only what truly powerful people say constitutes fairness. But in your servant’s view, true fairness has never existed in this world. Just as your servant was destined at birth to serve as your attendant, while you were born to be a prince.”
Actually, he had pondered this question for a long time—why was he destined from birth to serve others? But over time, he had come to accept it. Since fate determined this, why struggle with it? Moreover, his young master was good to him, and he was happy.
“Like this bronze weight—even if it weren’t a weight, its essence would still be brass, worth nothing. While this princely gold seal, even if not cast as a seal, would essentially remain gold, the most precious substance under heaven.” Sun Shuo spoke sincerely.
Hu Hai played with the princely gold seal in his hands for a long while, his handsome face darkening as he snorted coldly: “You spent so many words just to make me understand the gap between the imperial brother and me? That I’m destined to be this princely gold seal while he’s destined to be that imperial jade seal, the He’s Bi?”
Sun Shuo lowered his head and remained silent. He didn’t know how to express himself or whether this approach was correct. But he truly didn’t want to see his young master suffer like this anymore. Coveting things that didn’t belong to oneself, regardless of ultimate success or failure, required paying an enormous price.
Unable to get an answer, Hu Hai angrily swept his sleeves and left. Cups, dishes, bowls, and chopsticks on the table were all swept to the ground in chaos.
Sun Shuo struggled for a long time before finding that rough bronze weight in the grass, carefully wiping away the dust and treasuring it in his sleeve.
Though he had angered his young master during the day, Sun Shuo knew this youth he had watched grow up was easily pleased. During the evening meal, he deliberately brought out a golden-luan knife he had obtained from others for his young master to appreciate. Though the young master looked disdainful, his eyes were obviously uncontrolled. Having served his young master so long, he naturally knew where his weaknesses lay. See, since he was still unhappy, he’d use little tricks.
Sun Shuo served Hu Hai to sleep as usual, noticing the bamboo slip on the desk turned to its last section. He knowingly rolled it up and hid it in his sleeve before walking out.
Bamboo slips were actually precious things, though in the imperial palace they weren’t considered particularly valuable. Emperor Shihuang didn’t grant the young master bamboo slips, but that didn’t mean he truly couldn’t read any books. As an all-capable attendant, Sun Shuo would solve this problem for him.
Sun Shuo’s method was actually simple—he went directly to borrow from First Prince Fu Su.
As the first prince who owned more bamboo slips than even Emperor Shihuang, he was truly an excellent person to seek help from. Moreover, First Prince Fu Su was very gentle. When Sun Shuo first approached him, he had steeled himself to speak, but the gentle first prince, upon hearing his younger brother wanted to read books, immediately selected a scroll of bamboo slips without question. Back then, Sun Shuo couldn’t recognize many characters and didn’t remember what book it was, but he only remembered his young master was very satisfied when he took it to read. This became a private custom afterward.
He thought his young master had always secretly admired the first prince in his heart.
Taking familiar routes to avoid palace guards, Sun Shuo arrived unnoticed outside First Prince Fu Su’s study. As soon as his hand lightly knocked, someone inside pulled open the door. A youth in wide-sleeved green robes and bright silk deep garments smiled and said: “I was just telling His Highness that you should be coming tonight.” Sun Shuo quickly entered the study to bow properly. Though this youth appeared young, he was a famous young man who had made his name at court years ago. At twelve, he had been enfeoffed as High Minister, a position comparable to Prime Minister. Moreover, he didn’t belong to the palace attendants but held official rank, so he addressed the first prince as “Your Highness.”
Only attendants followed old customs. In this empire now, few people could be respectfully called “Prince” because Emperor Shihuang had swept away the six states—now only his sons could be respectfully addressed as princes.
“Sun Shuo greets the First Prince.” As Sun Shuo turned around, he saw Fu Su sitting cross-legged behind a desk, buried in study. Beside him, a blue jade five-branch lamp with goose-foot base burned brightly, casting a bright yellow halo around his silhouette, making him appear overwhelmingly noble.
Sun Shuo only glanced once before withdrawing his gaze. Naturally, in his heart, no matter how handsome the first prince was, he couldn’t compare to his young master whom he had personally raised. Seeing the desk piled high with bamboo slips, he knew the first prince was certainly busy with important matters and didn’t speak much. He took out the bamboo slip to return from his sleeve and handed it to the nearby youth, lowering his head with a smile: “Sir, the young master has finished reading this ‘Gold and Cloth Laws.'”
This remark made Fu Su, who had been deep in thought behind the desk, look up. He put down the bamboo slip in his hands and laughed with surprise: “Oh? Little Hai has already read the ‘Gold and Cloth Laws’—that’s quite good.”
Sun Shuo felt honored and quickly reported with lowered head: “The young master once told your servant that among the fifteen articles of ‘Gold and Cloth Laws,’ he liked best the one stating: ‘Officials who receive money—a thousand coins per basket, sealed with minister and magistrate seals, whether money is good or bad, mixed and recorded.'”
A few lines of Qin law—quite an improvement indeed.
Fortunately, the always gentle first prince resolved the situation, changing the subject with a smile: “What book do you want to borrow this time?”
Sun Shuo had been waiting for this question and quickly said: “The young master mentioned he wants to read the ‘Official Appointment Laws’ this time.”
This time it wasn’t Fu Su who spoke, but the nearby youth. He was more familiar with the bamboo slips in Fu Su’s study than Fu Su himself. After just a moment’s consideration, the youth said with slight surprise: “The ‘Official Appointment Laws’ were taken to the warm pavilion a few days ago by me—it’s not here.”
Sun Shuo understood. Apparently, the important figures in the warm pavilion these days were discussing matters related to the “Official Appointment Laws.” His young master couldn’t quite understand and naturally wanted to read it. Hearing it wasn’t available here, a flash of disappointment crossed his lowered eyes, but he still spoke with gratitude: “Then I’ve truly disturbed the First Prince. Please just lend any scroll of bamboo slips to your servant.”