Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

There's just one thing... not good.

General Wang slapped his own son on the forehead:

"You brat! This isn't the imperial court, are you standing guard for me? What are you pretending for? Hurry up and call him Uncle Zhou, you hear me!"

"Father!"

Wang Ben's upright face instantly fell, and he took a half-step back in a fit of anger, his ears turning red.

"Why do you always say this? How will our son lead troops into battle if word gets out? Besides, I... I'm a colleague of Zhou Neishi, this..."

"So what if word gets out?" Wang Jian glared, his tone righteous. "It's only right for a father to beat his son! If anyone has a problem with that, let them come and reason with me!"

Wang Jian stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at his son as if he were a good-for-nothing youth.

"What? I'm sworn brothers with Zicheng, and you think you can be my equal? ​​Look at Zicheng, he's only a few years older than you, and everything he's done is earth-shattering! And you? All you do is argue with your father!"

As he spoke, he raised his hand and shoved Wang Ben forward: "Hurry up, call for help!"

Wang Ben stumbled as his father pushed him, feeling incredibly aggrieved.

What did he do to deserve this?

Although his father often scolded and reprimanded him at home, he was used to it and ignored it all.

But recently, he's suddenly become like he's possessed, constantly calling him "Brother Zicheng" and saying things like, "Look at him, he's only a year older than you, and he's already so calm and composed. Look at you, so impetuous!"

He wished he could reveal all his embarrassing moments from childhood to adulthood and compare them one by one with this "Brother Zicheng".

What's the point of comparing these two?!

He's a military officer, a captain in the Imperial Guard, with thousands of men under his command! Who would compare their pen skills to someone else's?

But his father's eyes were like knives, so he could only grit his teeth and force out a sentence through gritted teeth:

"...Uncle Zhou."

Her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum, and after she finished speaking, her ears turned so red they were almost bleeding. She wished she could dig a hole and bury herself on the spot.

Zhou Wenqing: "..."

He now finally understood why, during several patrols, he had occasionally caught a glimpse of Wang Ben looking at him with a hint of "intense" in his eyes.

So it turns out they're being resented for being compared to "someone else's child".

General Wang, you can't do this to me!

"Uh, this..." Zhou Wenqing awkwardly raised his hand, trying to salvage the situation, but Meng Wu had already pushed his two sons forward:

"Come on, you two, call him Uncle Zhou!"

Meng Tian and Meng Yi readily agreed, clasping their hands in a fist salute in unison, their voices booming:

"Uncle Zhou!"

Zhou Wenqing's lips twitched; his idea of ​​"each to their own" was now completely ruined.

General Meng, could you please stop causing trouble?

Oh no, this is our first meeting! Shouldn't I give the kid a couple of red envelopes?

He instinctively reached for his waist.

Ah, I don't even have any pockets!

However, seeing that Wang Ben's expression had calmed down, perhaps because his good brother had also called him "uncle" like him, he felt much more at ease, and that feeling of resentment visibly dissipated.

Zhou Wenqing secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Being an elder isn't so easy.

"Alright, alright!" He quickly waved his hand, indicating that there was no need for such formalities. "I came in a hurry this time and didn't bring any gifts. I'll definitely make it up to you another day!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than General Wang Jian's eyes lit up, and he swiftly pulled over Zhang Han, who was watching the show with great interest.

"And you, kid, stop calling me 'Mr. Zhou,' it's too formal!" Wang Jian waved his hand and made the decision directly, "From now on, call me Uncle Zhou!"

Zhang Han stumbled from being pulled, but he wasn't annoyed. Instead, he smiled broadly and clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Uncle Zhou!"

They shouted it really loudly.

After shouting, he took half a step forward, his eyes sparkling as he asked:

"Uncle Zhou, do I also have a gift to give you?"

Zhou Wenqing: "..."

He silently swallowed a mouthful of blood, his gaze slowly shifting from Zhang Han's smiling face to Wang Jian's beaming old face.

He now has some doubts about whether General Wang Jian was deliberately putting on an act for him.

However, he had no doubt about another thing—that kid Zhang Han had definitely been led astray by that scoundrel General Wang!

If I can't handle tough, old-fashioned pork, surely I can handle tender, young pork?

Zhou Wenqing glanced at Zhang Han with a deep, enigmatic look, a meaningful smile playing on his lips:

"Yes, of course, but since you've changed your tune, I can give you the gift ahead of time—"

He paused, then continued slowly:

"To commemorate our first meeting, I remember there are still a few ropes left on the carriage used to tie up wine jars, so perhaps..."

"Then there's no need!"

Zhang Han decisively waved his hand, took a half step back with a strong survival instinct, and put on a fawning smile.

"What a hassle! Actually, if you think about it carefully, it's just a matter of changing how you address someone, and there's no need for any gift."

As he spoke, he swiftly snatched a wine jar from the arms of a soldier beside him:

"What's so interesting about the rope binding the wine jars? Let's drink first!"

As he spoke, he raised his hand and broke the mud seal on the mouth of the jar. He turned his head and looked inside, and was stunned.

The wine in the jar was so clear that it could almost reflect a person's image, completely different from the murky wine he usually drank.

"This...this wine..."

His throat tightened, his emotional intelligence kicked in again, and he swallowed back the "it's watered down" that was almost out of his mouth, instead saying:

"...Why does it taste like water?"

Before he could finish speaking, General Wang had already kicked him in the buttocks:

"You brat! That's a bottle of fine wine that Brother Zicheng gave me! I haven't even opened it yet, and you've already smashed one with a slap! You've gone too far! You think you have too much strength to use? Then you might as well run fifty more laps every day!"

"No!"

Zhang Han let out a wail, clutching the wine jar tightly, afraid that the wine inside would spill and he would be kicked again.

"How was I supposed to know it was from Uncle Zhou? Master, don't kick it! You're going to spill the wine!"

"You dare spill a single drop!"

Zhang Han groaned in despair, his eyes darting frantically to the side as he winked and pleaded with Wang Ben: "Senior brother! Help me!"

Seeing this, Wang Ben slowly walked over, reached out and patted him on the shoulder, then sighed.

Zhang Han's eyes lit up, thinking his savior had arrived—

"Serves you right!"

Wang Ben withdrew his hand, a gloating smile playing on his lips.

Don't think he didn't see it; when he called out "Uncle Zhou" just now, this guy was watching with great interest, arms crossed.

Now that you know to beg him, it's too late!

"That's about enough, General Wang." Zhou Wenqing finally spoke, watching the farce unfold with a smile in his eyes.

"Let him off this time, but first, try my newly brewed wine and see if it's worth the kick?"

General Wang then glared at him, "Hurry up and pour the wine!"

Just as Zhang Han responded, he heard someone shout behind him.

"Zhang Han, over here!"

He turned around and saw that Meng Tian had cleared out a table at some point, and had even deliberately set aside the wine cups, arranging several large bowls in a row on the table. The bowls were as big as the palm of his hand, and each one was polished to a shine.

Even the youngest, Meng Yi, stared longingly at the wine jar in his hand.

Zhang Han: "..."

They're all thinking about the alcohol, not a single one of them cares about me. Are we still brothers?!

He muttered to himself, but dared not say anything more. He could only take the wine jar and carefully tilt the mouth of the jar.

The clear liquid was poured into the bowl, creating fine splashes, and a refreshing fruity aroma wafted out with the liquid, gently entering everyone's nostrils.

"What are you all standing there for?" Wang Jian picked up a bowl and tossed it towards the crowd. "Come on, try Brother Zicheng's fine wine!"

Everyone picked up their bowls, and the rims of the bowls clinked together.

Only Zhou Wenqing smiled and waved his hand, picking up a cup of warm tea beside him: "I won't join in the fun. I'll use tea instead of wine and keep you all entertained."

"Really not drinking?" Wang Jian seemed a little disappointed, but with such fine wine before him, he couldn't persuade him further, only saying, "Then help yourself, we won't stand on ceremony!"

He tilted his head back, took a big gulp, smacked his lips, and downed it in one go, wiping his mouth vigorously: "Good! Good wine!"

"It burns as it goes down, but it also has a slightly sweet taste; no wonder they say it has a unique flavor!"

Meng Wu also downed his drink in one gulp, nodding in agreement: "Amber in color, sweet but not murky, without any sour or rotten taste, not bad at all, I like it!"