Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

With the entire territory of Han falling to Qin, the prelude to the unification of the world was thus abruptly opened. This conquest of Han occurred a full six years earlier than recorded in historical texts.

This was Zhou Wenqing's carefully planned and most secure opening move—to break the ice by returning Han territory to Qin, thus concealing Qin's ambition to unify the six states to the greatest extent possible, and preventing it from alarming the other states and provoking a fierce backlash.

He was involved in the situation and also secretly pushed things along. He had contributed to the unification of Qin, so he should have felt relieved and overjoyed.

But now, Zhou Wenqing felt a tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away, his thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he managed a forced smile.

Yao Jia had long lost the composure he had displayed when he sat calmly at his desk imparting diplomatic experience. His brows were furrowed, his knuckles were taut and white, and the edges of the secret letter were creased with deep and shallow wrinkles.

He read very quickly, skimming through the text, his eyes searching eagerly between the lines, but he couldn't find the information he was looking for in the gaps between the sentences.

Whether Han Zi is dead or alive, where he is, or what his condition is—we know nothing.

This urgent letter came from Wang Jian. The old general was worried that the delegation in Linzi, Qi, might not be aware of the changes on the front lines and might be put at a disadvantage in their actions in another country, so he specially sent the battle report by express courier.

However, being in the army, he had no way of knowing Han Fei's current situation.

The atmosphere froze instantly.

Fusu was also filled with mixed emotions, but when his gaze fell on Zhou Wenqing's suddenly paler face, he quickly spoke up to comfort him:

"Sir, Yao Keqing, don't worry. I trust Mr. Wei Liao. He will definitely find a way to protect Han Zi's life."

Yes, but only... his life was unharmed.

Zhou Wenqing gently closed his eyes, his fingertips hidden under his wide sleeves unconsciously caressing the neatly folded piece of cloth.

Yao Jia still held the secret letter in his hand, but his gaze was fixed on the dark twilight outside the window, his eyes unreadable, and he remained silent.

Fusu looked left and right, staring at the two silent adults. His lips moved several times, but he didn't know what to say, so he could only lower his head helplessly.

A long silence followed.

The fine threads from the edge of the cloth in his sleeve had somehow gotten tangled around his fingertips. He gently tugged at them, and before he knew it, they snapped, snapping across Zhou Wenqing's fingertip. The slight sting startled him.

Coming to my senses, I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the chaotic thoughts in my mind. When I opened my eyes again, all the turmoil in my eyes had faded, leaving only a calm and clear mind.

"Alright, this is good news. Fusu is right. Instead of worrying about personal matters, we should focus on the present."

With a serious expression, he continued clearly, "General Wang's urgent report from afar was not meant to disturb our peace of mind; he was warning us of the situation to prevent us from being caught off guard and suffering a hidden loss."

"With one of the seven kingdoms gone, the world order has changed. Even if the remaining five kingdoms are prepared and observe with indifference, some will inevitably feel fear and harbor hidden hostility."

At this point, he raised his eyes to look directly at Yao Jia, his tone solemn:

"Guest Yao, there will be a banquet at the Qi Palace tomorrow. Some people will surely take the opportunity to make trouble and deliberately provoke us. We must make preparations in advance. The foreign policy we discussed earlier will probably have to be completely overturned. How to deal with this situation will probably require you to reconsider."

Upon hearing this, Yao Jia nodded heavily, took a deep breath, and swept away the remaining distracting thoughts in his mind.

He turned his gaze back to the bamboo slips piled on the table, looking at the details of the personnel and etiquette at the Qi Dynasty palace banquets that he had meticulously compiled, and gently pushed them all aside.

"It's alright, don't worry about it."

His voice, no longer hoarse, returned to its steady and confident tone. He picked up his pen again: "The tide has turned in Qin's favor. The current situation is still advantageous to us. At tomorrow's banquet, the only people we need to pay special attention to are these few..."

As Zhou Wenqing listened, he glanced out the window one last time.

Mr. Wei Liao, you absolutely, positively must bring him back safely...

------

On the outskirts of Xianyang, a troop of Qin cavalry escorted the dark-colored imperial carriage in the center, speeding past like lightning towards the city gates of Xianyang.

Inside the sealed carriage, the bitter smell of medicine and the stench of blood mingled together, thick and sticky, permeating every inch of the air, making it so stuffy that it was hard to breathe.

Wei Liao sat upright to one side, a deep frown etched between his brows. His gaze fell on the figure curled up on the cushion, and his heart grew increasingly anxious.

Compared to when they parted, Han Fei looked much more haggard and thin, and had fallen into a coma, unconscious.

His forehead was wrapped in a thick strip of cloth, covering most of his face, revealing only his tightly closed eyes and bloodless lips, which were pale and cracked, while his cheeks were unusually flushed with a sickly red.

I have a fever.

Even in his unconscious state, Han Fei still showed signs of pain, his chest heaving almost imperceptibly, and occasionally a few broken murmurs escaped his lips, intermittent and indistinct.

Wei Liao looked at his almost lifeless face, his jaw clenched, and his cheeks stretched into a hard line.

He lifted the carriage curtain and urged urgently:

"Hurry, faster! Full speed ahead into the city, straight to the Imperial Medical Bureau! Not a moment to lose!"

The coachman responded, and the whip cracked in the air. The already speeding carriage lurched forward again, the wheels making a rapid rumbling sound as they rolled over the road.

Wei Liao lowered the carriage curtain, sat back down, and placed her hand on Han Fei's shoulder to steady him and prevent the jolting from aggravating his wounds. However, the tension in her heart only grew stronger.

It was my own carelessness.

He had clearly stopped the person time and time again, and only with great difficulty did he manage to bring the person out of Han Ting. Looking at the person, his expression was lifeless and he was despondent, as if he had completely exhausted the strength to struggle.

I thought Han Fei had resigned himself to his fate, mired in the immense pain of his loyal bones being unjustly accused and his homeland about to fall, and was indifferent to everything around him. All I had to do was escort him back safely so that I could successfully complete Zi Cheng's mission. I had just relaxed my vigilance a little when I didn't expect this person to suddenly launch an attack.

So close, so very close...

Wei Liao had been keeping a low profile the whole way, watching Han Fei ride swiftly into Han, all within his control and Zhou Wenqing's expectations.

The gold ingots, which had no use in the Qin Pass, poured out like water once they reached the territory of the State of Han. Through the various checkpoints, guards, clerks, and gatekeepers, the heavy baggage was emptied before the city walls of Xinzheng were even in sight.

After using up seven or eight out of ten of the dozens of gold ingots, Han Fei rushed to the palace gate without stopping and offered them all, hoping to exchange them for a chance to enter the court and meet the emperor.

As a prince of Korea, a member of the royal family and a hereditary nobleman, it was his birthright and a right to have an audience with the emperor. Yet, in the end, he had to offer gold coins in exchange for a message that would never come.

Even so, all he got in return was a perfunctory reply from a palace gatekeeper: "Please wait a moment, young master, while I go and inform him."

Han Fei stood alone outside the palace walls once again, but this time, he knew clearly in his heart.

There will be no response.

The prince of Han could travel freely and unimpeded in Qin, but in his own country, he had to bribe his way into the court with real money.

The bribery hasn't been successful yet...

How laughable, and how pathetic.

This is the motherland he cherishes and wants to protect with all his heart!

A pool of sludge...

Han Fei closed his eyes and swallowed back the mouthful of fishy, ​​bitter taste that rose to his throat.

For the last time, I will tear myself apart, crush myself, and grind myself into the mud, and fight for this one last time.

This time, Han Fei did not stubbornly wait at the palace gate, but turned around—

Han court officials, the king's confidants, royal relatives, powerful old clans... one place after another, one family after another, from sunrise to sunset.

Han Fei had no choice but to stop in front of the mansions of the powerful and wealthy people he once despised, personally hand over his visiting cards, conceal his sharp edge and soften his posture, and give away all the wealth he could in his mansion.

Another disgusting and hypocritical maneuver has come to an end.

Han Fei was seen off from his residence with a warm smile. He exchanged his last box of gold, silver and jade for a reply that he would do his best and wait for news. He watched helplessly as the gate closed in front of him, and he numbly and mechanically dragged his feet back slowly.

A gentle breeze blew by, causing the robes, which were free of any adornments, to billow slightly.

He paused, recalling what Yao Jia had once said, and a self-deprecating smile appeared on his lips.

This time, he was truly left with nothing but "openness".

During Qin's journey eastward, the sharp edges that he willingly concealed gradually softened into the everyday world, and the ways of the world he slowly learned melted away his pride and stubbornness. It is all being used for this kind of thing. If he and they knew, I wonder what they would think.

Laugh at his overestimation of his abilities, despise his self-degradation, mock his utter foolishness, or perhaps...

Han Fei gently shook his head, cutting off his chaotic thoughts, and stopped thinking about it.

It's pointless.

Fortunately, this act of humility, in which he gave his all, ultimately earned him the right to enter the court and meet the emperor.

That night, the moon was cool and the stars were silent in Xinzheng. He stayed up all night, holding a candle until dawn.

The pen scratched across the bamboo slips all night, writing a passionate and thought-provoking memorial. Every word and sentence was heartfelt and poignant, and Han Fei went over it in his mind again and again.

He still harbored a last, burning hope: to awaken those in the court from their complacency and self-deception with his own words; and to fight with all his courage to secure the last chance for the collapsing Great Han Dynasty to survive.

As dawn broke, he changed into his empty robe, rolled up the memorial, tucked it into his bosom, and walked step by step toward the palace gate he had begged for countless days before finally being allowed to enter.

"Your Majesty, my lord..."

Before he could finish speaking, someone jumped out and interrupted him sharply.

"Han Fei! How dare you return to your country without permission?!"

A round-faced senior official strode out of the court, his posture upright and imposing. His finger almost poked Han Fei's nose as he sternly rebuked him:

"As a hostage, instead of staying in Xianyang, you have returned to your homeland without permission. What are your intentions? What kind of reputation do you intend to tarnish for the state of Korea!"

Han Fei looked up at the man, his eyes filled with only a cold and clear-headed gaze.

He recognized the man.

It was he who accepted my entire cartload of fine silks and brocades yesterday…

Han Fei suppressed the sarcasm in his heart, looked at the King of Han who was lazily reclining on the throne, and hurriedly explained: "Your subject did not act on my own—"

"No need for excuses! The hostage's departure from Qin territory is a breach of contract and a breach of trust!"

Another member of the royal family, with graying hair and beard, stepped forward angrily, his old eyes wide open, his tone extremely fierce, pointing at him menacingly, as if he were the one who had plunged South Korea into utter ruin.

"If Qin uses this as a pretext to send troops, how can you bear the responsibility? You clearly intend to use the Qin people to destroy my Han dynasty!"

This person, the other day, brought a box of jade artifacts...

Han Fei was furious. He stepped forward, about to speak, when someone pushed him aside. Facing the throne, he cupped his hands and cried out:

"The hostage's unexplained return to the country must be suspicious. It might be a trap set by the King of Qin to bring him back and bewitch the king. Your Majesty, we must be on guard!"

"He might be a spy for Qin!"

"Having been in Qin for so long, he's probably long forgotten the kindness shown to him by Han!"

"He wants to make South Korea lose credibility with the world!"

"We should take it! Take it!"

One sentence after another surged up like waves, layer upon layer, giving Han Fei no chance to interrupt.

He stood in the center of the hall, being pushed and shoved by the crowd, unable to move forward or backward. His ears were ringing, and the noise of the hall crashed over him like a wave, completely engulfing him.

Han Fei lowered his head and saw the memorial in his arms, which was regarded as his last hope.

So even after his oral ailment was cured, the imperial court still didn't give him any room to speak?

It's ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.

He was being smeared with dirty water, and everyone was condemning him, wishing they could trample him under their shoes, crush him into the dust, and never let him rise again.

Why bother...

He was already stuck in the mud.

A deep, bone-chilling grief and coldness filled my lungs, my chest churned as if about to burst, and a strong, metallic taste suddenly surged up in my throat.

Han Fei could no longer suppress his anger. He suddenly raised his hand and shoved away the group of court officials who were surrounding him, shouting and clamoring, their faces contorted with rage.

Caught off guard, the crowd scattered and gasped in surprise.

He staggered forward, breaking through the human wall, and stared intently at the King of Han on the throne. His voice was hoarse and shrill as he roared, as if his life was hanging by a thread:

"Your Majesty, I, Han Fei, have never betrayed the country! I have never brought disaster to Han! Today, I am willing to die with my broken body to prove my innocence! I only beg Your Majesty, please do not try to negotiate with a tiger for its skin, or invite a wolf into the house!"

However, his earnest advice, which he had so painstakingly shouted out, went unheard. The crowd panicked and began to shout incoherently:

"He's trying to assassinate the King! Stop him!"

"Protect the King! Stop Han Fei immediately! Your Majesty, be careful!"

The King of Han, who had been lazy and indifferent throughout, finally lost his composure and turned pale with fright, jumping up from his throne in a panic.

He scrambled and rolled backward, desperately trying to avoid the danger, while screaming hysterically in a fit of rage:

"Protect the Emperor! Protect the Emperor! Quickly stop him for me!"

The court was in turmoil, absurd and laughable, and utterly unbearable to behold.

Han Fei, seeing this absurd scene, had no more regrets. He suddenly turned around and, with all his remaining strength, slammed into a stone pillar in the hall!

Amidst the chaos and the jumble of figures, he felt as if he hadn't actually bumped into the cold stone pillar.

Is it really not even acceptable to let him die a peaceful and clean death?

Overwhelmed with grief and anger, and unable to hold back the metallic taste in his throat, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the fabric of his clothes red.

The light of day, the figures of people, and the palaces before my eyes all spun and faded away in an instant, and the chaotic and noisy roars in my ears gradually faded into the distance.

In the last second before his consciousness completely sank into darkness, he clearly heard the enraged and furious voice of the King of Han above him:

"Han Fei, the traitor, has defied the emperor in court, offended the ruler, and plotted rebellion. Seize him immediately and throw him into the death row!"