The young Minister of State rubbed his sore and numb right hand, nodding slightly at Gu Cun who had come to report from the Eldest Prince’s study.

This perceptive palace attendant respectfully stepped aside, indicating that he could now enter, while Gu Cun himself went to find other young attendants.

The young Minister of State smiled with satisfaction, knowing that Gu Cun would certainly be able to move all those bamboo slips he had copied to Gaoquan Palace without anyone knowing. Actually, even if someone discovered it, it wouldn’t matter—he had already openly discussed with the King of Qin about commissioning Wang Li to steal brushes in order to copy books for Eldest Prince Fu Su. Since the King of Qin had said nothing about it, who else would dare to criticize?

Gaoquan Palace was a palace adjacent to Xianyang Palace. Though not large in area, it was sufficient for the Eldest Prince’s residence. This palace had been built during the time of Queen Dowager Xuan of Qin. While it couldn’t compare to the imposing grandeur and magnificent splendor of neighboring Xianyang Palace, it had its own elegant charm.

Built against the mountainside and incorporating a clear spring that flowed down from the heights with a gurgling sound, it was thus named Gaoquan Palace. On clear days, if one climbed to the highest hall of Gaoquan Palace and gazed into the distance, one could see the rolling Wei River far off to the northeast.

The young Minister of State stepped into the study. After turning past several screens and low-hanging curtains, he saw His Highness the Eldest Prince in the depths of the study, absorbed in reading bamboo slips.

The days of house arrest had not made Fu Su dejected; instead, it was as if he had cast off a heavy burden, making his entire person become relaxed and carefree. He was casually draped in a moon-white robe, holding a scroll of bamboo slips in his hands, lazily reclining against an armrest, completely lacking the serious solemnity of his usual upright posture. Winter sunlight streamed through the half-open latticed window, making the expression on Fu Su’s face appear even more gentle and serene, radiating an aura that naturally made one feel calm and peaceful.

Seeing this scene, the young Minister of State was completely stunned. Although he had long thought that given the Eldest Prince’s speed, it would be absolutely impossible for him not to have completed the copying task after so many days—there had to be a reason. But when he actually saw that this person was deliberately slacking off, enjoying his leisure, he couldn’t help but feel his teeth itch with irritation.

“Qing, you’re here! Please, sit quickly.” Hearing footsteps, Fu Su didn’t look up, his eyes never leaving the bamboo slips for even a moment as he called out a greeting, completely treating the young Minister of State as family.

The young Minister of State ground his teeth but still walked over, taking a cushion from nearby and consciously sitting cross-legged in front of the Eldest Prince’s low table.

Fu Su slowly finished reading this section before putting down the bamboo slips and inviting his young tutor to eat some pastries. He wasn’t deliberately neglecting his guest; it was just that these past days of lazy habits had made him quite lethargic, spending entire days shut away in his study, rarely seeing people.

The young Minister of State also restrained the resentment in his eyes and formally reported recent events to His Highness the Eldest Prince. Although he knew the other party certainly had other channels to obtain news, he still recounted everything, conveniently adding his own observations and judgments.

The obituary of Queen Dowager Zhao Ji of Qin had been announced a few days ago. King Zheng of Qin had not explicitly stated the time of Zhao Ji’s death, but when the court historians recorded it, they defaulted to assuming the Queen Dowager had died after the King returned from Zhao. Some people speculated that Zhao Ji had been ill and had held on until the King avenged her in Zhao before peacefully closing her eyes. This theory gained even more recognition after Queen Dowager Zhao Daochang died quietly and without fanfare, especially since the rumors of the two queens’ renowned beauty in their youth but constant discord were known throughout the Central Plains.

Since Zhao Ji hadn’t appeared before court ministers for a full ten years, no one cared anymore. Newly appointed officials had never even met her. So her quiet funeral didn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions—after all, Lao Ai’s rebellion came first, and even if she had maternal affection with King Zheng, it had all been worn away by that incident.

The young Minister of State could guess the King’s thoughts—most likely, because of his deduction, King Zheng thought Zhao Ji was still meeting lovers even on her deathbed, making him even more furious and causing him to hastily arrange her funeral.

However, Jiang Lü’s misguided cleverness had indeed diverted the King’s suspicions away from Fu Su, and the latter’s guilt had been completely cleared.

As the young Minister of State reported, he hinted between the lines that his Eldest Prince shouldn’t slack off anymore. If he submitted the punishment copying now, he could immediately return to the tower chambers of Xianyang Palace for deliberations. Moreover, the three scrolls the King had mentioned weren’t long at all—even if punished to copy them a hundred times, having written for so many days without finishing was fooling no one! If he dragged it out further, the King would think his eldest son was throwing a tantrum to show his authority, which would backfire!

Fu Su also noticed that his young tutor’s expression was so gloomy it seemed water could drip from it, and quickly pushed the fish cakes on the table closer to him.

“These are Eying fish cakes, said to be made by Nü Ying for E Huang. They’ve always been the first course at Chu royal banquets.”

The young Minister of State looked at the white, tender, small fish-shaped cakes. Despite his troubled mood, he still gave face by picking up a piece and putting it in his mouth. The sweet, smooth, tender texture spread across his palate—this was a pastry made from minced fish mixed with lotus seed flour and steamed. Generally, only Chu had fresh river fish, making it extremely difficult to obtain in Qin territory. This was the young Minister of State’s first time enjoying such a delicacy.

Fu Su saw his young tutor’s tightly furrowed brows relax slightly and smiled with satisfaction. This twelve-year-old Minister of State was wearing a blue-green robe today, paired with a white fox fur collar around his neck, looking quite like a wealthy young master. However, he was constantly thinking and pondering about various matters, always maintaining a tense expression on his handsome face—truly mature beyond his years.

The young Minister of State swallowed the fish cake, his right index finger twitching, but he still suppressed the urge to take another piece. Besides the fresh, fragrant taste of the fish cake, there was also a faint medicinal smell in the air. He pressed his lips together and asked with awkward concern: “Your knee… how is it?”

“It’s fine now.” Fu Su smiled. It was just a flesh wound, yet his young tutor had kept it in mind all this time.

“Heaven has five elements governing five positions, generating cold, heat, dryness, dampness, and wind. Humans have five organs transforming five qi, generating joy, anger, thought, worry, and fear…” The young Minister of State finally couldn’t help but glance at the scroll Fu Su had placed on the table. After reading two lines, his face darkened. “The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine?”

“Oh, you’ve read it too?” Fu Su coughed awkwardly twice. This was the newly compiled “Discussion of Great Theory of Celestial Origin” chapter from The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine. He had been reading this medical text for several days and couldn’t put it down.

The young Minister of State felt his teeth itch even more. While he was copying books until his hands cramped, this Eldest Prince was leisurely reading medical texts? Just as he was organizing his words to figure out how to remonstrate, unexpectedly, the other party spoke first.

“Qing, do you have any aspirations? Besides being a capable minister.”

Fu Su slowly sat up straight, his face also becoming serious.

The young Minister of State was startled. What he wanted to do was nothing more than revitalize his family and leave his name in history for millennia. To achieve such a realm, he had to assist a wise ruler. King Zheng was an emperor rarely seen in ten thousand years, but unfortunately, he was born at the wrong time, so he could only turn his gaze to the many princes of King Zheng, yet he didn’t even have the qualification to choose.

Fu Su didn’t mind that his question received no answer. He lowered his head to stroke the bamboo scroll and said candidly: “Since I began my education, people have constantly taught me that I am the future ruler of Qin. I dared not slack off. Everything I studied and read was curriculum arranged by my tutors—no one ever asked if I liked it.”

The young Minister of State was bewildered. His own master had often pestered him, constantly asking if he liked reading, if he was tired, if he wanted to rest. He had never considered such questions, perhaps because he simply had no time to think about them. The ridicule and discrimination he suffered in his youth made him desperately long to climb to heights where he could look down upon this land.

“I’ve only ever had what I should do, never what I want to do.” Fu Su sighed wistfully.

The young Minister of State pondered. If reaching the pinnacle of ministerial power was what he should do, then what did he himself want to do? (Of course, it’s to be with Fu Su! ╮(╯▽╰)╭)

“These past ten-odd days are the first time I haven’t had to read those profound scrolls and tedious memorials, only following my own preferences in choosing what to read.” Fu Su smiled bitterly and continued, “Am I being very useless like this?”

Very useless indeed.

The young Minister of State answered with his eyes.

Simply put, a bowstring that had been taut for so long, once it relaxed, would be very difficult to string tight again.

He could hardly believe this was the person he had chosen to assist. However, he was charmingly honest.

“Those who speak well of beginnings must understand the end; those who speak well of the near must know the far. This is reaching the ultimate in calculation while the Way remains unconfused—what we call enlightenment.” The young Minister of State said slowly, “The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine also contains many passages of clear reasoning. Your Highness may read for a few more days.”

Fu Su was shocked. He hadn’t expected his young tutor to be so well-read, using exactly the language from this “Discussion of Great Theory of Celestial Origin” chapter. More importantly, he was actually agreeing to let him continue slacking off and reading leisure books?

“However, it shouldn’t be delayed too long—three days at most.” The young Minister of State stood up while glaring at Fu Su. Keep reading, keep reading—he was going back to continue copying books. He had originally thought Fu Su would have copied something during these days, which was why he had only copied fifty times. From the looks of it, he needed to go back and finish the other fifty times. That kid Ying could probably recite them by now—if not, he’d have him help copy too.

When the young Minister of State left, he didn’t even say farewell, unceremoniously using his sleeve to carry away the entire plate of Eying fish cakes and a writing brush from the table.

“Wow, these fish cakes are really delicious!” The blue-robed Daoist ate while praising enthusiastically, completely ignoring Ying nearby who dared to be angry but not speak. “They’d be even better if they were hot and fresh from the steamer!”

Taking off the fox fur collar around his neck, the green-robed youth knew his master had definitely learned the news from the gossipy Chaofeng, otherwise how could he have timed it so perfectly, arriving just as he returned to Luming Residence? Seeing Ying staring longingly at the increasingly diminished Eying fish cakes in the plate, the green-robed youth took a clean handkerchief and, with great authority, divided the fish cakes in the plate in half, wrapping one portion and directly handing it to Ying.

Ying’s eyes immediately lit up like a large dog being petted, pouncing over to nuzzle the green-robed youth’s head before quickly running out of the room with the handkerchief-wrapped fish cakes, as if afraid they’d be snatched away.

“Absolutely heartless!” The blue-robed Daoist wailed, pointing at the green-robed youth and roaring, “No respect for teachers at all! Weren’t these fish cakes brought to honor your master?”

“They were originally brought back for Ying.” The green-robed youth wouldn’t be intimidated by his occasionally crazy master. How could a master who rivaled the ancient divine beast Taotie in appetite not have eaten Eying fish cakes before? Rather, it was Ying, who had suffered from lack of food and clothing since childhood, who was truly pitiful. He shot the blue-robed Daoist a sideways glance and snorted lightly, “If you don’t want to eat them, leave all the rest for Ying.”

“No way, no way! Although these fish cakes can’t match that plate I ate at the Chu royal palace back in the day, and they’re a bit fishy when cold, they’re still very delicious.” The blue-robed Daoist quickly protected the small remaining half-plate beside him.

Since this was his own master, the green-robed youth couldn’t lose too much face for him. He got up to fetch the hot water Caiwei had put on the fire pit to boil, and took two clean ceramic cups. Because both he and Ying weren’t used to being closely attended to, Caiwei would, with his tacit approval, find things to do in places within the palace she was allowed to go. Recently, she had been going to the weaving workshop that managed sewing to learn tailoring. The green-robed youth remembered when he asked a few days ago, the excited expression on Caiwei’s face when she talked about tailoring.

What one should do… versus what one wants to do?