Fu Su’s eyes were fixed on the bamboo slip in his hands, but his mind was completely elsewhere.
Once again, he raised his head to look toward the motionless palace gates, struggling to suppress his somewhat restless emotions.
Today was the day that young man was to come for an audience with him.
Although Father Emperor had said nothing, Fu Su understood that this was a talented minister Father Emperor had taken a liking to, prepared specifically for him.
However, since Father Emperor had already appointed that young man as High Minister, then quietly assigned him here as a scholarly attendant without any fanfare, such treatment of lifting someone up only to let them fall might well breed resentment in the youth.
Fu Su lowered his head, stroking the bamboo slip in his hands as a faint smile played at his lips.
Yes, this was yet another test from Father Emperor. If he could win over this young man, then he would gain a capable assistant. If he could not win him over, Father Emperor would consider him unfit to inherit the throne. To be a king, one must possess the ability to command ministers – otherwise, how could one be worthy of the title “King”?
After all, his brothers had always been watching him like tigers eyeing their prey.
“Young Master, High Minister Gan has arrived.” The deep, gentle voice of the palace attendant Gu Cun came from outside the hall.
Before Gu Cun spoke, Fu Su had not heard even the slightest sound of rustling robes, which meant Gu Cun had been standing outside for quite some time, deliberately delaying his announcement.
Very good. Worthy indeed of the palace attendant who had cared for him since childhood – he had perfectly understood his intentions. Fu Su lowered his eyelids, concealing the amusement in his eyes. He arranged the bamboo slips on his desk, pulled back his sleeve, and took up a brush that General Meng had given him. Dipping it in black ink, he suspended his wrist and began writing slowly on the bamboo slip.
Unlike the stiff, obscure writing produced by bamboo sticks dipped in lacquer, the rabbit-hair brush flowed like water when writing. Fu Su could already foresee what kind of revolutionary storm this brush would unleash in the history of calligraphy. The script he was writing now already differed from篆书 seal script with its uniform stroke thickness, instead varying with the movement of the brush tip in all sorts of ways.
Fu Su was in good spirits. After writing several sentences from “Records of Zhou – Grand Master of Ceremonies,” he slowly said: “Summon him.”
“Yes.” Gu Cun responded from outside the hall and departed.
Before long, Fu Su heard the clear, crisp sound of jade ornaments chiming from outside the hall.
The “Record of Rites – Explanation of Classics” states: “When walking, there should be the sound of jade pendants; when traveling by carriage, there should be the music of bells.” Gentlemen of status must wear jade. From the sound of the pendant ornaments approaching from distant to near outside the hall, one could tell that the person’s walking pace was neither hurried nor slow, clearly showing no signs of impatience or anxiety despite the long wait.
Fu Su’s brush-holding hand paused momentarily, but he did not set it down. Even when the visitor had entered the hall and bowed deeply in greeting, he did not respond.
The sounds within the hall fell silent again as the visitor stopped moving. The chiming of ornaments ceased, and Fu Su listened to the other’s steady breathing as he calmly continued writing on the bamboo slip.
Very good. He most appreciated intelligent people.
Only after the final bamboo strip was filled with characters did Fu Su stop writing. Satisfied with his calligraphy, he slowly raised his head.
The young man standing straight in the hall came into his view. Calling him a young man was not quite accurate – his height was at most somewhat taller than a child who had not yet come of age, appearing to be around eighteen or nineteen years old. This youth who had not yet reached the age of capping wore the luxurious robes of a High Minister, like a child who had stolen adult clothing. Yet that childish face bore complete composure and pride, which was almost laughable to behold.
Fu Su raised his hand to rub his brow, using this gesture to hide the smile on his face. This young man indeed had reason to be proud. At merely twelve years of age, he had single-handedly served as envoy to Zhao, allowing Qin to gain the territory of Hejian without losing a single soldier. Even someone as confident as himself could not guarantee he could accomplish such a feat.
“Sit.” Fu Su waved his hand toward a side table. The young man bowed slightly and took his seat with neither servility nor arrogance.
“High Minister Gan, do you harbor any dissatisfaction toward me?” Fu Su looked at the young man, a smile playing at his lips as he asked without courtesy. The young man’s grandfather, Gan Mao, had once been Left Chancellor of Qin, but due to persecution by others, he had fled Qin and ultimately died as a guest in Wei. He very much wanted to know what kind of feelings this young man truly held toward Qin.
He needed to determine whether this young man could be domesticated. If he was an untamable wolf cub, he had no leisure time to waste on him.
“I harbor no dissatisfaction,” the young man said with complete composure, his eyes focused straight ahead.
“Then from tomorrow onward, you will enter the palace daily at the Hour of the Rabbit to serve as scholarly attendant. Do you have any objections?” Fu Su slowed his speech. He was actually not much older than the young man, and after his early education, the greatest influence on him was naturally his father the king. Thus in all matters, he consciously or unconsciously imitated his father. Though he showed no stern expression or harsh tone, he nevertheless conveyed an indescribable sense of pressure and authority.
“I respectfully comply with Young Master’s wishes.” The young man responded methodically, showing no reluctance whatsoever. In fact, after readily agreeing, he stood up and walked to Fu Su’s side, saying respectfully: “Your servant can begin scholarly attendance today. Young Master writes with an excellent hand.” This seemingly flattering remark was spoken most naturally, and then he familiarly sat beside Fu Su, picking up the bamboo slips from the desk to examine and appreciate them carefully.
Fu Su was quite taken aback by the young man’s behavior. He had intended to give the other party a show of authority, but clearly his opponent understood the situation better than he did.
“What Young Master has written is the ‘Records of Zhou – Grand Master of Ceremonies’ chapter.” The young man was obviously well-read and had a strong memory. After reading just a few sentences, he guessed the source, then changed the topic: “Does Young Master write with some feeling?”
Fu Su raised his head and found the young man’s gaze had fallen on the cabinet behind him. Without turning around, Fu Su knew exactly what the young man was concerned about.
Lying quietly in a brocade box upon precious black silk was a green ceremonial tablet.
“Use the green ceremonial tablet for rituals to the East.” The young man’s clear, childish voice read aloud from the bamboo slip: “Use jade to make vessels, to rank the feudal states. The king holds the ceremonial tablet. ‘Zhen’ means ‘to stabilize’ – it stabilizes the four directions.”
The ceremonial tablet bears engravings of the four sacred mountains as decoration, and measures one chi and two cun in length. When the Son of Heaven wears his ceremonial crown and holds the ceremonial tablet, it serves to stabilize and pacify the four directions. The green ceremonial tablet could be said to represent the ritual authority of the Son of Heaven.
The young man’s gaze moved from the bamboo slip back to the green ceremonial tablet, unable to suppress his attention. He could almost identify from the seal script patterns and carvings that this was the green ceremonial tablet passed down through generations of Zhou Dynasty Sons of Heaven.
Why would such an important green ceremonial tablet be here with Prince Fu Su? Could it be that the King of Qin had obtained it from somewhere and then bestowed it as a reward?
Thinking of this possibility, the young man’s clear pupils contracted slightly. This indicated that the King of Qin had already decided on the next generation’s heir?
Fu Su did not turn around, nor did he look at the expression on the young man’s face. He had deliberately placed this green ceremonial tablet here to demonstrate to the young man his legitimate and bright future.
Although Father Emperor’s act of granting him the green ceremonial tablet was probably still one of the imperial tests – such as making his various brothers green with envy and causing them to create obstacles for him in their agitation – this did not prevent him from borrowing this ritual vessel to intimidate through borrowed authority.
Fu Su picked up another blank bamboo slip, slowly arranged it on the desk, and again took up the rabbit-hair brush, asking casually: “What is a gui and what is a nie?”
“Gui is double earth. Nie is tree from self. Using the method of earth gui and water nie to measure soil depth, measure sun shadows, correct the four seasons, to seek the center of the earth. Setting up gui and placing nie, observing stars and surveying land – this is the foundation of establishing a nation.”
After a moment of bewilderment, the young man answered methodically. The gui and nie implements had been common objects in the distant past, but these two items were essential tools that had to be used when exploring and surveying land before establishing a city. Over time, they had been endowed with supreme symbolic meaning, even giving rise to the saying “jade gui and golden nie.”
Fu Su’s brush began to fall upon the bamboo slip, but this did not prevent him from dividing his attention. He continued asking: “Then what does ‘gui nie’ mean?”
This time the young man did not answer immediately, because a term did not merely have its surface meaning – for example, “measurement,” “weighing,” or “standards,” and so forth. He watched Fu Su writing elegantly, pondered for a moment, then carefully and slowly said: “Laws and regulations. Rules.”
Fu Su did not even blink, continuing his relentless questioning: “Then what are laws? What are rules? Are they the words of rulers and fathers? The words of the wise? Or the words of sages?”
Hearing this, the young man was stunned, having never expected to be asked such a tricky question. Even though he could discourse on this topic for more than half an hour, he knew that what the Young Master wanted was not such evasion.
For a long while, no sound came from beside him. Fu Su was very satisfied with the young man’s reaction. He still did not raise his head, merely giving a light instruction: “High Minister should return today. Tomorrow at the Hour of the Rabbit, please be punctual.”
These words were spoken lightly, but carried an irresistible authority.
Only then did the young man realize he had overstepped. The Young Master had just said that scholarly attendance would begin tomorrow – he had no right to sit here today.
Immediately, cold sweat dampened his fine robes as he respectfully bowed his head in farewell.
Until the young man had retreated all the way outside the hall, Fu Su never raised his head to look at him once. Only when the bamboo slip on the desk was written to the final strip did Fu Su set down his brush and let out a long breath.
Being able to plant a seed called “doubt” in the other party’s heart – today’s performance had been truly excellent.
Sooner or later, this seed would take root, sprout, and ultimately grow into a towering tree that could never be uprooted from the heart.
Fu Su touched his smooth chin, and the pretended composure on his still-youthful handsome face completely collapsed, revealing a triumphant expression.
He was indeed worthy of having rehearsed this several times…
Although Fu Su appeared to be reading military intelligence, most of his attention was actually on the young man organizing bamboo slips beside him.
This youth who was respectful on the surface but extraordinarily arrogant in his heart had been serving as his scholarly attendant for some time now. The more Fu Su interacted with him, the more shocked he became at his profound learning, and the more curious he grew about where exactly he had received his education. Thinking of the rumors that had been spreading like wildfire in the court recently, even knowing that someone had ulterior motives, Fu Su still felt various kinds of discomfort in his heart.
After all, if one truly wanted to make someone a confidant, there was no need to continue concealing one’s thoughts in front of them.
But how could he bring this up?