220 BCE, Gaoquan Palace

Caiwei carried the freshly made osmanthus fragrant cakes and red date soup as she walked through the corridors of Gaoquan Palace with graceful steps.

Already eighteen years old, she wore a frost-colored silk gauze skirt that showed off her graceful figure. Two jet-black braids hung down along her ears, and her cloud-like hair bun was adorned with moon-white flowers. Her features were strikingly beautiful. Having frequently attended Minister Gan, she had learned at least a bit of his tranquil bearing. Any guard who had seen her found it difficult to look away. However, since she was considered someone from Minister Gan’s side, no one dared rashly express their admiration.

Caiwei walked to the entrance of the side hall and knocked lightly and rhythmically. She didn’t even need to speak, because the Minister was familiar with her knocking rhythm. If Prince Ying were in the side hall, he would rush out and directly snatch the food tray from her hands. She waited quietly for a moment. No chaotic footsteps sounded from within the side hall, which meant Prince Ying hadn’t returned to Gaoquan Palace today.

“Caiwei? Come in.” A low voice came from within the side hall. Caiwei’s expression turned solemn, restraining the smile on her face. With proper decorum, she pushed open the hall doors and slowly entered.

The side hall had long since lost the disorder of several years ago. At some unknown point, Eldest Prince Fu Su had begun enjoying coming to the side hall to discuss matters with Minister Gan. The Eldest Prince, who had been pampered since childhood, naturally couldn’t tolerate being in poor surroundings. Gradually moving and adding things, over several years he had transformed the side hall bit by bit to be tidy and comfortable. Now it could even be called luxurious and refined.

King Zheng had unified the six Central Plains states last year and become the First Emperor Qin Shihuang. He ordered all weapons under heaven gathered to Xianyang, destroyed and cast into twelve bronze statues, and also relocated one hundred twenty thousand distinguished households from the six states to Xianyang. Whenever a state was conquered, he would replicate its palace buildings identically on the northern slope of Xianyang, called the Six States Palace Complex. All princes and beauties captured from the six states, along with various rare treasures, were also gathered into these palaces.

In comparison, Fu Su’s Gaoquan Palace was both simple and small. However, this location had the advantage of being closest to Xianyang Palace. Fu Su would never exchange such a good location for a remote palace. Moreover, having lived here so many years, he had long grown accustomed to it. Changing to a larger palace would mean doubling or even multiplying the people around him several times—he would never give others the opportunity to plant spies.

Although Caiwei was just a small palace maid, after years of exposure, she could more or less guess the meaning behind some of the Eldest Prince and Minister’s actions. However, adhering to the principle of speaking less and doing more, she was just a small palace maid they needed.

The side hall no longer had so many book piles. Only along the north wall stood a row of azure dragon wood bookshelves, said to have been moved from the Baiyue palace. The shelves were carved with ancient chilong patterns and emanated a refreshing fragrance that penetrated the heart, directly eliminating the need to burn incense in the side hall. The two side rooms next to the hall had also been opened up—one serving as a study to store bamboo slips, the other as Minister Gan’s living quarters. Minister Gan still had one year until his coming-of-age ceremony. Four years ago, he had moved out of Luming Residence in Xianyang Palace and completely settled in Gaoquan Palace.

Prince Ying had been contrary about this matter for a long time. However, two years ago he was also granted an extremely remote palace to reside in, which for him was basically a formality. Because distinguished families from across the land were relocated to Xianyang by the First Emperor, countless eateries from various regions, large and small, filled Xianyang city. Prince Ying had spent nearly every day these past two years outside searching for food, only returning to mooch lodging at Gaoquan Palace in the afternoon or evening.

Caiwei turned past the screen and immediately spotted her Minister bent over his desk writing rapidly, while Eldest Prince Fu Su stood in black robes before a huge sheepskin map hanging on the side of the hall, studying it carefully. Caiwei knew that was the Xianyang city defense map they’d been frequently examining lately. She quickly lowered her eyes wisely, demurely and obediently placing the food tray lightly on the low table. From her sleeve she took out the jade armillary sphere for which she had re-woven the hanging cord, then prepared to withdraw. However, Minister Gan put down his brush and raised his head toward her.

“Caiwei, thank you for the clothes you made. They fit very well.” Minister Gan was now nineteen years old, precisely at the prime of a young man’s flourishing years. His features, already quite handsome in childhood, after maturing appeared even more distinguished and elegant. A pair of smiling phoenix eyes—even just a glance from the corner of his eye—could inexplicably make one’s heart flutter. The willow-green robe he wore today, with its cuffs and lapels trimmed with lilac-colored cloud and thunder patterns, made his face appear jade-like. If he weren’t deeply secluded in Gaoquan Palace never venturing out, the men, women, young and old of Xianyang would have already gone mad for him.

Being able to make clothes for the man she liked, Caiwei didn’t know how happy she was. But she carefully hid her tender feelings deep in her heart, only stealing a glance at her Minister before deeply bowing down.

She didn’t know from when her admiration had transformed into adoration. She also knew this emotion was just flowers in a mirror, water in a moon—she could only do what she could for him. So seven or eight years ago, she entered the weaving workshop in Xianyang Palace responsible for sewing robes to study.

At that time, her Minister had asked her two questions: what one should do versus what one wants to do—which was ultimately best to choose?

She felt she was fortunate because she could choose what she wanted to do.

Caiwei didn’t even dare reply, afraid the trembling in her voice would betray her feelings. After respectfully bowing, she quietly withdrew.

Next, when she found time, what color robe should she make for her Minister? Summer was approaching, so the fabric should be changed to something thinner. It was said the storehouse had just received some shan fabric from Chu territory—she could go select some…

Watching the young maid depart gracefully and close the hall door, Fu Su finally withdrew his gaze. However, he saw his tutor had already lowered his head to continue writing, and couldn’t help teasing: “Caiwei has such deep feelings—why not accept her?” Seeing Caiwei still wore an unmarried girl’s hairstyle, Fu Su asked this.

The young Minister paused his brush and raised his head, somewhat confused by the interrupted train of thought. Though he didn’t understand why Fu Su would suddenly bring this up, he still answered seriously: “The great undertaking is not yet complete. I have no time to consider marriage.” He paused, a trace of worry between his brows. “The Eldest Prince also hasn’t married. What exactly does His Majesty mean?”

Fu Su had his capping ceremony last year and was already twenty-one this year, but still hadn’t married. The young Minister wasn’t anxious about his own marriage—after all, in the Gan family now, he was the one who made decisions, and his father didn’t dare randomly arrange a marriage for him. But Fu Su was different. Because his mother consort died young, all marriage matters had to be decided by the First Emperor. After the First Emperor unified the six states and proclaimed himself emperor, the eyes of the entire world had more or less turned to Eldest Prince Fu Su. Last year’s capping ceremony was also held with unusual grandeur.

However, the First Emperor hadn’t designated him as Crown Prince. Moreover, after crafting the renowned He Shi jade into the Imperial Seal, the remaining two pieces of jade were given—one to Fu Su, and one to young Prince Hu Hai, who was only ten this year.

This ambiguous attitude made people feel his intentions were unfathomably deep.

The high officials and nobles at court might not be able to fathom the First Emperor’s thoughts, but for Fu Su, it was crystal clear.

“Because Father Emperor believes he won’t die.” The corners of Fu Su’s lips curved into a mocking arc. “He calls himself the First Emperor, saying posterity will count in succession—Second Generation, Third Generation unto ten thousand generations, transmitted without end. But he fundamentally doesn’t want to pass this imperial throne to anyone else.”

The young Minister fell silent. Perhaps because the six states were pacified and warfare diminished, after the First Emperor had leisure, he began seeking immortals and asking about the Way, vainly hoping for eternal life.

This matter was actually understandable upon reflection—after all, no one wanted to die, especially a First Emperor who possessed the entire world.

But witnessing the brilliant and mighty First Emperor who had swept across the six directions and eight wastelands transform into an ordinary person obsessed with how to obtain longevity—this contrast was truly unacceptable.

However, death was perhaps a serious problem the young Minister at his age had never considered.

The young Minister tried imagining if he himself died. He felt the world would lack him, and perhaps his relatives and friends would feel grief, but it fundamentally wouldn’t affect other people’s lives. But the First Emperor’s life and death was a major matter—the entire world would be shaken by it. Even the newly pacified six states would fragment and fall apart again, and the entire Central Plains would rapidly reignite the fires of war.

In a certain sense, the First Emperor couldn’t die—at least not temporarily.

Before Fu Su could control the entire situation, he couldn’t die.

This process might be ten years, might be twenty years, might require even more time…

Fu Su didn’t notice his tutor’s expression but continued lightly: “Father Emperor doesn’t want me to marry, and won’t even let my brothers marry. Once there’s a next generation, the Crown Prince position must be decided. Father Emperor is still dragging it out, even using young Hu Hai to divert court and countryside attention.” Thinking of Hu Hai’s confused little face, Fu Su couldn’t help but sigh sympathetically: “Hu Hai is too pitiful.”

The young Minister furrowed those beautifully shaped long eyebrows. He and Fu Su had almost never discussed these matters, but both had more or less sensed them in their hearts.

“Father Emperor has changed. He no longer lets me access government affairs, assigning me to handle inconsequential matters like repairing Xianyang’s city walls.” Perhaps having started venting grievances, Fu Su could no longer suppress the unwillingness and anger in his heart. He smiled mockingly and patted the Xianyang city defense map before him with the back of his hand.

The young Minister also pressed his lips together, his expression utterly helpless.

Actually, if it were any other capital, people wouldn’t have such thoughts—after all, a city’s defenses were extremely important.

The problem was, Xianyang basically had no city walls.

Because of Qin’s geographical position, it was surrounded by several strategic passes and fortresses. Between Hangu Pass, Dasan Pass, Wu Pass, and Xiao Pass lay the vast eight hundred li Qin River Plain. Since Shang Yang’s reforms, when Duke Xiao of Qin moved the capital to Xianyang, it was located where the Jing and Wei Rivers met—the two rivers served as natural military barriers. When moving the capital, Duke Xiao only built palace towers. Before he could build Xianyang’s city walls, continuous warfare began.

As Qin’s territory expanded, building city walls became empty talk. So after Duke Xiao, successive Qin kings were only enthusiastic about building various palace towers standing throughout the entire Guanzhong Plain. It could be said this entire fertile land was Xianyang, using mountains and rivers’ perilous nature as city walls—truly the world’s first capital.

However, this dominance was also born of helplessness. It wasn’t that Qin didn’t want to build walls, but continuous warfare had made the state treasury extremely tight. Afterward, the Zhengguo Canal was constructed, leaving no surplus manpower or resources to build Xianyang’s city walls, until now after unifying the six states.

It was laughable to say—Xianyang, the capital of all under heaven, didn’t even have decent city walls.

“City walls are still very important.” The young Minister thought for a moment and spoke pragmatically. Previously, it was because there was no time. Once time was freed up, city walls had to be built. Otherwise, once an army broke through any one of the four passes—Hangu Pass, Dasan Pass, Wu Pass, or Xiao Pass—or even if just one pass-guarding general turned traitor, they could drive straight into Xianyang. On the flat Guanzhong Plain with no strategic positions to defend, Xianyang would become fish on their chopping block. Just thinking about it was terrifying.

How could Fu Su not know the importance of city walls? However, Father Emperor’s thoughts clearly weren’t on this. The title of Emperor for All Ages had inflated his confidence to the peak—he didn’t believe any army could reach beneath Xianyang’s walls. Moreover, how large a scope these walls should encompass and how grand the scale should be were difficult to determine.

Furthermore, Father Emperor reportedly wanted to build a massive magnificent palace complex, even having already chosen the name—Epang Palace. It was also said he wanted to build a Great Wall stretching ten thousand li in the north to defend against the Xiongnu barbarians. Also, having tasted the sweetness of building the Zhengguo Canal, to pacify Lingnan, Father Emperor next wanted to build a Magic Canal—an artificial waterway connecting the Xiang and Li Rivers to transport grain and supplies. Not to mention the constantly ongoing construction of the Mount Li mausoleum.

One major project after another—meaning basically no manpower or resources would be available now to build Xianyang’s city walls.

And such an impossible task to carry out had fallen precisely on his shoulders.

Fu Su tightly gripped the jade piece hanging from his waist, striving to calm the anger and unease in his chest. Perhaps the world-famous He Shi jade had some rare quality—ever since receiving this corner jade piece bestowed by Father Emperor from the He Shi jade, whenever his mood was poor, just rubbing it a few times would improve his emotions considerably.

After regaining his usual refined and gentle Eldest Prince demeanor, Fu Su simply stopped worrying about how to plan Xianyang’s city walls. After all, most likely they wouldn’t be built anyway. When the time came, casually drawing something approximate to gloss over would be sufficient. He lifted his robe hem and sat cross-legged before the low table, planning to push the food tray aside—at this moment he had completely no appetite.

However, the young Minister on the other side instead stood up, walked to the sheepskin map behind Fu Su, and said lightly: “If the First Emperor inquires, Your Highness can reply thus. Xianyang can be arranged according to a celestial map layout. The Purple Forbidden constellation is the Imperial Star, so Xianyang Palace north of the Wei River would be the Purple Forbidden Star. The Wei River runs through all of Xianyang like that Milky Way in the sky. Other palaces can all correspond to positions of heavenly constellations.”

Fu Su turned his head to study the Xianyang map, slowly overlapping it with the celestial map in his mind. His eyes brightened: “The Central Palace is the Celestial Pole, and its one bright star is where Taiyi constantly dwells.”

According to the celestial map, at the very center of the Purple Forbidden constellation were the Five Stars of the North Pole. The emperor’s seat was the second star, while the first star was called Crown Prince. This happened to match the distance ratio between Xianyang Palace and Gaoquan Palace, subtly establishing Fu Su’s position.

The young Minister knew Fu Su would understand at a hint, so he didn’t continue explaining. The First Emperor probably didn’t want to build Xianyang’s city walls. If Fu Su produced a conventional plan, he also wouldn’t win his favor. But the celestial map planning wasn’t his original creation. According to Chaofeng’s gossip reports, the Mount Li mausoleum inside also seemed to be designed according to a celestial map, which would certainly please the First Emperor.

Fu Su nodded. When he turned back to look at the osmanthus cakes on the low table, he had the appetite to eat a few pieces to comfort his stomach. However, seeing the jade armillary sphere with its newly woven cord also placed on the food tray—knowing this was an ornament his tutor wore daily—he picked it up and handed it over.

The young Minister naturally accepted it but unexpectedly discovered bloodstains on the jade armillary sphere: “Your Highness, your hand…”

“Oh, I carelessly injured it while practicing martial arts yesterday. It’s nothing.” Fu Su didn’t take it seriously. The wound wasn’t large and had already begun healing. If not for his emotions being somewhat out of control just now, it wouldn’t have split open.

The young Minister checked Fu Su’s hand wound somewhat worriedly, then turned to find some medicine.

However, at the moment he was about to turn, he was startled to discover the bloodstains on the jade armillary sphere had actually disappeared without a trace.

“Bi Zhi?” Seeing the young Minister maintain the same posture without moving, Fu Su asked in slight surprise.

“Nothing, I’ll get the medicine.” The young Minister deeply suppressed his doubts, acting as if nothing had happened as he hung the jade armillary sphere back around his neck.