“Little brat, has your injury healed? You actually still dare run around?” The moment Chaofeng saw the green-robed youth climb onto the roof, it couldn’t wait to clamor. But after a slight pause, it gossiped teasingly, “Yo! Got new clothes! This fabric is really nice. Wearing these new clothes and running around—aren’t you afraid of getting them dirty?”

The green-robed youth unconcernedly found his familiar place to lie down. Anyway, if they got dirty or torn, he could casually change into new ones. Now he was someone valued by the eldest prince—not only did he have people serving him, he had piles of spare clothes. He could wear a different one each day.

His master had given him a bottle of Bone-Raising Pills. This injury medicine took its name from “Discourses of the States: Discourses of Wu”—”raising the dead and fleshing white bones.” With such an arrogant name, naturally the efficacy was also exaggerated. He’d only taken one pill and the injury on the back of his head had mostly healed.

But making this injury medicine was extremely complicated, and the required medicinal materials were very precious. The youth didn’t want to attract unnecessary trouble for himself, so the cotton cloth on his head remained bandaged, still appearing like a serious injury not yet healed.

“Speak. Who exactly did it that night?” The youth gazed at the white clouds slowly drifting across the sky, asking leisurely. Ridge beasts occupied high positions. Yaoying could crouch on eaves and see all affairs under heaven, while Chaofeng was rather gossipy, only liking to watch large and small matters within Xianyang Palace. So it definitely saw everything about his injury.

“Eh? You want me to tell you? Youth, according to normal event development, shouldn’t you display great divine might, use wisdom, investigate one by one, and deduce who the culprit is?” Seeing the youth as calm and composed as usual, Chaofeng couldn’t help but find it strange.

“Am I stupid?” The youth glanced at Chaofeng. With such a good cheat device available, why rack his brains?

“You don’t suspect Wang Li ambushed you at all?” Chaofeng still wanted to watch a good show. Bored to death, it feared nothing more than a peaceful world.

“That guy hasn’t reached such a degree of stupidity.” The youth curled his lip. But even though everyone knew this was the case, rumors about Wang Li showed no signs of being contained. Fu Su obviously knew someone was sowing discord but also didn’t intervene to control it. So now not only were people slandering Wang Li, even his grandfather leading troops abroad attacking Zhao was beginning to be criticized.

Unstable generals—a major military taboo. Didn’t Fu Su know this?

Tsk, simply a thoroughly stupid heir. Did he really want to assist such a person to become king of the Great Qin Empire?

“Speaking of which, people in the palace are now saying Wang Jian using a stratagem of sowing discord to eliminate Li Mu was a petty man’s act. Many people are jumping out to defend Li Mu instead!” Sure enough, how could palace winds and movements be hidden from Chaofeng? It couldn’t help gossiping again.

“Military Peace Lord—a generational military talent. King Qian of Zhao destroyed his own Great Wall, courting his own destruction.” Yaoying always paid attention to situations under heaven, naturally also seeing Li Mu’s tragic end, also sighing with emotion.

The green-robed youth was also silent.

Military Peace Lord Li Mu initially rose to fame on battlefields resisting the Xiongnu. When stationed at Yanmen Commandery, he conserved strength for many years, finally using infantry to completely annihilate cavalry, greatly defeating the Xiongnu and killing over one hundred thousand of their troops. Destroying Tan Lan, defeating Donghu, accepting Lin Hu’s surrender, making the Chanyu flee—truly becoming famous in one battle. For over ten years afterward, the Xiongnu didn’t dare approach Yanmen Commandery.

Later Lian Po defected to Wei, Zhao She and Lin Xiangru died successively, and Li Mu became Zhao’s pillar. When Qin pressed step by step, Li Mu became the strongest stumbling block on Qin’s path of outward expansion. How many generals King Ying Zheng of Qin changed—for six consecutive years none could break through the national gates he defended. Li Mu was also respectfully called “Military God,” called the undefeated myth on battlefields.

Until last year when Wang Jian led troops attacking Zhao, he decided not to confront Li Mu head-on. Instead, he drew inspiration from Lian Po, who’d been framed and angrily defected to Wei. He sent people to infiltrate Zhao using heavy gold to bribe King Qian of Zhao’s favored minister Guo Kai, spreading rumors that Li Mu had long harbored rebellious intentions. The foolish King Qian of Zhao indeed believed it, swiftly designing Li Mu’s capture. A generational military god thus perished.

The green-robed youth hadn’t personally witnessed events unfold, but from official accounts and folk tales, he could piece together the general picture. Moreover, after entering the palace, “Li Mu’s Death” was the story Chaofeng most loved pestering Yaoying to narrate. He’d been forced to hear it three or four times already. In Qin with its fierce folk customs, naturally they respected those with outstanding military achievements. Li Mu was also an opponent Qin people respected. Though Wang Jian had accomplished great merit, because of Li Mu’s tragic death, popular opinion wasn’t very good.

Speaking fairly, in another’s position—if he were in Wang Jian’s place, he’d also be willing to spend money to settle everything without using soldiers’ flesh and blood to fill gaps.

Without expending a single soldier, making Zhao sever its own arm—simply the most worthwhile business. But as a subject, he grieved for Li Mu, because he knew there would be more than one Li Mu appearing in the future.

Ruler and subject doubting each other was much simpler than ruler and subject understanding each other.

“Little brat, you’ve listened so many times—what exactly do you think?” Seeing the green-robed youth’s thoughtful expression, Chaofeng asked curiously. Usually accustomed to conversing with Yaoying, this wasn’t good—must chat more with new friends.

“Turn gan and ge into jade and silk.” After a moment of silence, the green-robed youth uttered these six words.

“Huh?” Chaofeng almost thought it was hallucinating. “You mean Qin and Zhao can have diplomatic relations? Like the good relations between Qin and Jin?”

“‘Turn gan and ge into jade and silk’ refers to the Great Yu period. Yu tore down city walls built by former leader Shun, destroyed weapons, distributed all property to everyone, winning people through virtue. Afterward, drawing submission from all quarters, they presented jade and silk as tribute.” Yaoying literally explained the green-robed youth’s words, disagreeing as it continued, “That was ancient times. If the Qin Dynasty now learned from Yu like that, it would definitely be gnawed to nothing by the six states. Oh, now Han has already been destroyed by Qin—only the other five states remain.”

“Tsk, all rigid thinking.” The green-robed youth curled his lip. “What Wang Jian did—wasn’t that turning gan and ge into jade and silk? Facing gan and ge, one doesn’t necessarily have to fight with gan and ge. Using jade and silk to sow discord—from a certain perspective, this is also turning gan and ge into jade and silk.”

Complete silence on the eaves. Both originally clamorous ridge beasts were shocked by the green-robed youth’s twisted logic, momentarily unable to find their voices.

The youth remembered he’d seemingly been led off topic. He impolitely raised his foot and kicked at Chaofeng. “Speak quickly! Who exactly ambushed me that night?”

“You you you! Take your foot down quickly!” Chaofeng was so angry it became chaotic in the wind, wishing it could jump up and kick this stinking brat back.

“Don’t you let those little birds stand on you either? They can, but I can’t?” If it were before, the green-robed youth would never act so unreasonably. But recently he seemed spoiled by someone. When in a bad mood, naturally he had to vent. Perhaps only before ridge beasts could he not worry about what difficult-to-handle consequences willfulness would bring.

“Fine, fine, I’ll speak.” Chaofeng surrendered, muttering twice before unwillingly revealing the answer. “Fourth Prince Jianglü did it.”

The green-robed youth narrowed his eyes, concealing the sharp light within them.

“Seems you’re not surprised at all! Did you already guess and just came to me for final confirmation?” Chaofeng snorted coldly.

The green-robed youth didn’t respond.

Fourth Prince Jianglü and eldest prince Fu Su were only a few months apart in age. Second Prince and Third Prince both kept low profiles, but Fourth Prince Jianglü had been openly opposing Fu Su in everything since enlightenment, not concealing his desire for the throne at all.

Because during the Warring States period, ritual collapsed and music deteriorated—legitimate eldest son inheritance systems often couldn’t be implemented. Moreover, the King of Qin hadn’t established a queen, so strictly calculating, eldest prince Fu Su wasn’t necessarily the final throne heir.

The green-robed youth regretfully exhaled. After entering the palace, he’d observed coldly, still thinking whether he could choose another enlightened lord. But among all princes, Jianglü, the most promising besides Fu Su, actually used such an underhanded trick. Even if he were desperate for food, he wouldn’t choose a ruler who clubbed him from behind.

However, that Jianglü probably still secretly congratulated himself on his wisdom.

This action could frame Wang Li, causing estrangement between Fu Su and Wang Li, and could also provoke discord between him, this Superior Minister, and Fu Su. With good luck, he could even take advantage of this opportunity to profit, winning friendship from him or Wang Li—even loyalty.

Truly an excellent stratagem killing several birds with one arrow.

Of course, the premise was not being discovered as the instigator.

“That rescue bamboo strip—who exactly wrote it?” The green-robed youth suddenly asked this question. Actually, this was the answer he wanted to know tonight. After hearing Caiwei mention it, he’d first thought some timid eunuch or palace maid did it, thinking to have Chaofeng recognize them so he could secretly give some reward. After all, if he’d lain injured in Half-Step Hall all night, even if he could live, he’d lose half his life.

But after obtaining the bamboo strip from Fu Su to look, he knew his inference was wrong. Literate eunuchs in the palace weren’t few, but eunuchs who could write such good calligraphy absolutely couldn’t be timid.

Then the question arose—why didn’t the other directly go find Gu Cun to explain the reason? Or why not directly save him? Even his injury—just helping him stop the bleeding would be fine. Why specially alarm eldest prince Fu Su? The other calculated everything accurately—they could definitely also calculate Caiwei’s personality. Caiwei had an exquisite heart, afraid going herself would be useless, so she insisted on delivering the message to the eldest prince first.

Smart people often thought too much. In a moment, the green-robed youth began suspecting the messenger was actually the culprit Jianglü—perhaps he hadn’t intended to beat him so severely, fearing creating a fatality or something.

“Uh…” Contrary to the green-robed youth’s expectations, facing this easily answered question, Chaofeng actually hesitated.

“Who exactly? Don’t think of deceiving me.” The green-robed youth sat up straight, tensing his small face, seriously staring at Chaofeng.

“Sigh, not trying to hide from you, but I truly didn’t notice who wrote that bamboo strip. Clearly I was watching…” Chaofeng’s voice grew smaller and smaller. Could it be getting old with blurred vision? Couldn’t be! Chaofeng itself was also depressed.

The green-robed youth suspiciously narrowed his eyes, secretly noting this. If this matter wasn’t Chaofeng being distracted, then that bamboo strip writer was a Dao cultivator who used some illusion technique to block Chaofeng’s spying.

Seems this palace truly had crouching tigers and hidden dragons!

“Hey! Little brat, what have you decided to do? How will you retaliate against Jianglü? How will you deal with Fu Su?” Chaofeng quickly changed topics, not wanting to continue discussing the above question with this youth.

“A gentleman’s revenge—ten years isn’t too late.” The youth said flatly and expressionlessly, yet with a kind of frightening danger. “As for the eldest prince…”

The youth didn’t speak aloud. Everything he’d encountered these days—even if Fu Su knew nothing, Gu Cun definitely knew very clearly. Probably not truly indifferent—likely wanting to find an opportunity to help retaliate all at once. This was probably the grace-bestowing method they often liked playing.

How was this different from hitting with a stick then giving candy to comfort a child? Though the stick wasn’t struck by the other party, basically no difference.

Hmph, imperial mind techniques.

Before Fu Su lay a Go board displaying an endgame. White stones originally forming a head-to-tail connected long dragon had been cut at the waist by black stones. Though the game only reached midgame, white’s declining position was already visible.

This was a game between Fu Su and his master Chunyu Yue. When the game reached halfway, Chunyu Yue was summoned by the King of Qin to discuss matters. But Fu Su had been sitting beside the board all along, not moving half a step.

He borrowed examining the board, actually using peripheral vision to observe his young attendant reader.

This young Superior Minister was still the same as usual, sitting beside the desk by the window. Sunlight filtering through window lattices fell on him, making his entire small face glow white, even his hair strands carrying a layer of sacred radiance.

Fu Su didn’t understand why he’d never noticed the other before. Perhaps thinking this youth was too young—completely unable to help him—so he subconsciously ignored his existence. But he’d forgotten that in this Xianyang Palace filled with treacherous whirlpools, letting things be was also a kind of cruelty.

What made him even more ashamed was this young Superior Minister’s attitude. The other came to attend reading the day after injury just like before, calmly and peacefully as before, not demanding he find who the culprit was or争取过一分一毫的赔偿。

One must know, though Father King appointed him Superior Minister with honor exceeding real power, plotting to harm important ministers required judgment. If he insisted, even if Wang Li only had suspicion, it was sufficient to arrest and imprison him. So what if he was General Wang Jian’s grandson? No matter how illustrious his background, Wang Li himself was merely a commoner.

Of course, if things developed to this degree, Fu Su admitted he’d also find it thorny. But as matters progressed as he foresaw, he uncontrollably felt the youth’s understanding was so painful to him.

Wanting to compensate from other places, the other returned untouched all those rare medicinal materials and gold, silver, and jewels, only keeping daily necessities like charcoal stoves, clothes, and bedding that he deserved. Even that little palace maid Caiwei he’d stuffed over—the other didn’t truly treat her like a servant, but during lessons teaching Ying writing, tacitly permitted Caiwei to audit. This won over that Caiwei until she wept with gratitude, becoming even more loyal.

What exactly should he do?

Perhaps Fu Su’s gazing sight grew increasingly burning. The young Superior Minister also had no way to continue ignoring it. He could only put down the bamboo scroll in his hands, rise and walk to this eldest prince’s side, unceremoniously sitting on the cushion Chunyu Yue had sat on before.

“Eldest Prince, do you have words to speak with this subject?” The young Superior Minister sat perfectly straight. Though his form was thin and small, he possessed a kind of nobility from ancient aristocratic families. This bearing was difficult for ordinary people to imitate—every gesture and movement taught since birth, habits formed over months and years.

Fu Su had seen countless nobles, but rarely anyone like this young Superior Minister—every raised eye and arched brow done pleasingly. After staring blankly for a moment, he pointed at the game before him, gently asking, “Can this game be saved?”

The green-robed youth glanced at the game and knew this eldest prince wasn’t only asking about this game, but was using this game to exchange verbal thrusts, metaphorically alluding to the recent series of events.

Slightly pulling his lip corners, the green-robed youth glanced at the eldest prince sitting across, whose brows and eyes couldn’t hide slight anxious unease, and gently sighed.

Compared to Bo chess where luck occupied the main component, he preferred Yi chess mainly about troop formations and deployments. Black and white stones—like two armies confronting each other, within the square inch board, exhausting stratagems to mutually slaughter. Nothing was more suitable than this Yi chess for examining a person’s temperament, strategies, and bearing.

Though he hadn’t been beside this eldest prince long, nor truly played a game with him, the green-robed youth had long recognized this person’s character weaknesses through observing several Yi chess games. Between choices and sacrifices, this eldest prince’s indecisiveness could easily be seen.

This wasn’t the enlightened lord he anticipated.

But the other didn’t use imperial mind techniques. Instead, earnestly and seriously inquiring of him—this kind of sincerity…

After pondering for a moment, the green-robed youth raised his hand and picked up a white stone from the Go box beside Fu Su. These stones were all polished from jade mined from the distant west, lustrous in color, cool to touch. The green-robed youth rubbed the stone in his hand twice, gently placing it at one position on the board.

Fu Su’s eyes brightened, because though this move seemed plain and ordinary, it faintly carried killing intent. If subsequent moves kept up, it should be possible to kill a path of survival from this black stone’s ten-thousand-army encirclement.

“Before the game truly ends, playing one wrong move, even several wrong moves, doesn’t matter,” the green-robed youth said flatly. “Just walk each subsequent step well.” Having spoken, he rose and withdrew.

Fu Su stared at the game before him for a long time, finally smiling with relief.

Seems he’d been taught.

One step wrong couldn’t mean every step wrong.