Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

Am I still alive...?

The remaining consciousness slowly withdrew from the chaos.

It sounded like someone was whispering in my ear, their voices drifting in and out of sight, as blurry as if through a fog, impossible to discern.

His whole body felt limp and weak, as if all his muscles and bones had been pulled out. He was ice cold, but his throat felt dry and burning.

Do dead people still feel pain?

Han Fei thought to himself in a daze.

Oh, right.

He must not have died...

The scene of the fierce shoving and pushing in the Jinluan Hall of Xinzheng, his desperate attempt to break free of the pillar and his attempt to commit suicide, the metallic taste of blood gushing from his throat, the spittle and curses of the demons dancing wildly in the hall... all these scenes are still vivid in my mind.

The final image is of the King of Han's furious roar on the throne, cold, harsh, and crushing of his lifelong loyalty.

The traitor Han Fei...treasonous and rebellious...imprisoned in death row...

Each word, each sound, was icy and piercing, sharp as a blade, repeatedly cutting into his shattered soul, crushing his lifelong devotion and unwavering loyalty to Han.

He devoted himself to serving his king, worked tirelessly to protect his homeland, and sacrificed his pride and wealth to try and save the country and its people.

In the end, all he received in return was a stain on his reputation and eternal condemnation.

It turns out that proving one's innocence with a broken body and sacrificing one's loyalty with solitary courage was ultimately a joke. It could not wash away even a trace of the fabricated charges, nor could it awaken a group of intoxicated and muddled rulers and ministers.

sad.

hateful.

Even more ridiculous.

Is this the death row—Han Fei's final resting place?

Who is speaking...?

He struggled to open his eyelids, his hazy, unfocused vision slowly coming back into focus, the hazy, overlapping shadows and mist dissipating.

The tranquil light streamed in from the window, and the air was free of the damp, rotten smell of a prison, and there were no cold chains or shackles.

The first thing that caught the eye was Wei Liao, who stood quietly beside the couch with a composed expression, and an elderly man dressed as a doctor, talking to each other.

In an instant, all the delusion was seen through, and Han Fei immediately understood.

It wasn't that the King of Han suddenly took pity on him, nor that the court and the people still had a conscience, nor that his loyal words moved people's hearts.

Fortunately, Han Fei had already recognized the truth and had no expectations, so his heart was not disturbed at all.

All that remained was a desolate and lifeless wasteland.

Therefore, he only glanced at it briefly and then stopped caring. His eyes were empty and lifeless as he stared fixedly at the roof beam above, like a shell that had been completely emptied.

He didn't ask where he was, why he was still alive, or anything about South Korea.

Even the rustling sound of the doctor packing his medicine box and leaving didn't bother him at all.

Everything he had was completely burned to ashes in that absurd farce at the Zhengzhou Grand Hall.

Wei Liao stood quietly by the bed, gazing down at Han Fei's lifeless eyes, speechless for a long time.

"well……"

He pulled over a low stool, sat down beside the couch, and spoke very softly:

"This is a secret residence of my Qin people in Han, where no one will disturb you. The doctor said that you are overwhelmed by grief and anger, causing your blood to surge and your high fever to recur. The worst thing you can do is to let your emotions get stagnant. You..."

Wei Liao paused, looking at Han Fei's completely numb and unresponsive appearance. Knowing that saying more would be futile, she still carefully chose her words and softly comforted him:

"I know you're harboring resentment, but things have come to this, so you have to try to let go. Don't think too much about it, just rest and recover."

Having said that, he couldn't bear to press him further. Thinking that Han Fei probably didn't want to see any Qin people at the moment, he stood up, left a message saying, "I'll go to the outer room to get you some water. Call me if you need anything," and prepared to turn and leave.

Let him calm down first.

Wei Liao wasn't worried that Han Fei would do something rash and commit suicide. Not to mention that there wasn't a single pebble in the room, and he had searched every nook and cranny clean, Han Fei wouldn't have any strength left to lift up at this moment.

Just as he was about to step out the door, Han Fei, who had been silent for so long, suddenly uttered two words:

"etc."

Wei Liao stopped in his tracks immediately.

With a faint hope in his heart, he quickly turned around, staring intently at Han Fei, took half a step forward, and spoke with barely concealed urgency:

"What would you like to ask, Han Zi? Please speak freely."

As long as he still has something to worry about, it means he still has the will to live.

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Wei Liao immediately became alert, her tone turning somber as she quickly added:

"But if we let you leave, or let you commit suicide again—then Han Zi need not speak, Liao will never agree."

As he finished speaking, gazing at the haggard appearance of the person on the bed, he couldn't bear to be too harsh in his tone. His expression softened slightly, his gaze becoming earnest and sincere, each word filled with heartfelt comfort:

"You just need to rest and recuperate. Once your fever subsides, I will escort you to Xianyang. The King of Qin has always valued your exceptional skills and your ability to govern the world. Your future is still very promising. Why go down a dead end and needlessly throw away your life? It's not worth it."

But after a long time, so long that he almost thought he had misheard the word "wait," he finally heard Han Fei speak, his voice hoarse and strained:

"Please take away the sword bestowed upon me by the King of Qin from my old residence in Xinzheng and keep it safe."

Just this one sentence.

As if having settled the last lingering attachment in the world, he closed his eyes again, sealed his mouth, and sank into that bone-chilling silence, unwilling to utter another word.

Wei Liao stood by the door, looking at that lonely figure, and sighed again.

Well, I don't have the eloquence of Zicheng and Gu'an, nor the captivating charisma of the King. I can't persuade him. I'd better take him back first.

He replied with an "okay" and turned to leave.

But what he didn't expect was that something even more troublesome was yet to come—

Han Fei went on a hunger strike.

He neither ate nor drank water, nor took any medicine.

Wei Liao watched helplessly as the person he had finally managed to get out of death row grew weaker and weaker under his very nose, and he was so worried that he almost plucked out his beard.

Zicheng, Zicheng, the task you entrusted to me is truly more difficult than strategic planning, military tactics, or national policies!

He placed the entire blame on the King of Han.

It's all that useless King Han's fault. He's incompetent at governing the country and at employing people, but he's the best at tormenting talented people. With a king like that, it's no wonder the country is doomed!

Pah! What is that?!

Wei Liao grew angrier the more he thought about it. While listening to the doctor he brought shake his head and sigh to Han Fei, he was filled with anxiety and fear. At the same time, he had to go to find another person entrusted by Zhou Wenqing, carefully considering and weighing the pros and cons. He looked much more haggard than before.

Unable to sleep through the night, he finally got up, gritted his teeth, and with a ferocious expression, pulled out a set of black clothes...

The next day, a new and strange story began to circulate in the Han royal palace.

According to the palace eunuchs' private account, around midnight, a muffled thud was heard in the king's bedchamber, followed by a series of piercing screams.

When the palace servants rushed over, they found King Han writhing and groaning alone on his dragon bed, his trousers soaked, repeatedly crying out, "Spare me! Stop hitting me!"

However, the doors and windows of the hall were tightly closed, and there was no one around, not even a footprint.

The eunuch hurriedly summoned the royal physician to examine the king, only to find that he was completely clean, without even a bruise. The physicians looked at each other in bewilderment and could only prescribe a calming and tranquilizing remedy, subtly concluding that the king had had a nightmare and was frightened by the dream.

The King of Han, however, was relentless, insisting that he had seen a dark, ghostly figure with menacing eyes. He beat the man mercilessly, whispering menacing words in his ear as he slapped him, but the man was too terrified to hear clearly.

Rumors spread like wildfire in the palace, all saying that the wronged spirits of the unjustly killed had entered the palace to seek revenge, causing widespread panic.

Wei Liao neither confirmed nor denied this. He just felt that he was in a much better mood after returning that night. When he was holding a bowl of porridge and keeping watch by Han Fei's bedside, he even sighed much less often.

However, the issues that need to be addressed still need to be addressed.

Wei Liao attempted to "repay kindness" by playing the victim and complaining about the hardships she endured traveling thousands of miles to reach him—which was true, although not as arduous as the time she went to aid Zhou Wenqing.

He claimed to have gone to great lengths to pull strings in the death row to save people—but that was far from the truth. The entire Han court was rotten to the core; it was all just a matter of two gold ingots.

And that day, the "Han minister" who was protecting Han Fei in the main hall had one of his ribs broken by him—not entirely, but mainly because that Qin spy was too comfortable in the Han court, and his physique would probably need to be retrained when he returned to Xianyang.

Unfortunately, no matter how eloquently and persuasively he spoke, making one almost believe him, Han Fei kept his eyes closed the entire time, his face as calm as still water, not even a tremor in his eyelashes.

Wei Liao had no other choice but to find another breakthrough.

He deliberately sought out the old servant who had followed him for many years, whom Han Fei had dismissed with a considerable sum of money, hoping to use the decades-long bond between master and servant to slightly thaw Han Fei's completely frozen heart.

The old servant, holding a bowl of warm porridge, stood by the bedside, pleading with tearful eyes and earnest words, almost begging.

But Han Fei remained unmoved, his heart as firm as a rock.

Wei Liao, watching from the sidelines, was utterly devastated and had already given up in her heart.

Fine, if all else fails, we'll resort to force. We'll knock them out and force-feed them soup and medicine!

As long as the fever doesn't recur and he's able to travel, he'll set off that very night, riding at top speed to deliver the person to the king, letting those talkative people have their headaches and stop making things difficult for a straightforward minister who's never uttered a soft word in his life.

He was truly out of ideas!

Just when Wei Liao was about to give up completely, Han Fei, who had been silent for a long time, finally made a move.

He opened his eyes, looked at the old servant in front of him with tears in his eyes, remained silent for a long time, and then let out a long and tired sigh.

Then he turned to look at Wei Liao, his voice weak and hoarse:

"You found him. Have you kept that royal sword safe?"

Wei Liao felt a surge of joy, but then a faint sense of guilt crept into his heart.

Although he had promised Han Fei that he would retrieve the sword, the sword had already been switched. He was also extremely busy and had no time to spare. He had long forgotten about the counterfeit sword. If it weren't for finding this old servant, he probably wouldn't have remembered it at all.

Wei Liao recalled the scene when she stepped into Han Fei's residence that day—

The former residence of Young Master Han is now deserted and desolate. The courtyard is empty, with not a single decent decoration in sight. There is no trace of the grandeur and prosperity of the Wang family's noble residence; only desolation and ruin remain.

All the servants in the mansion had left, but this old servant stubbornly stayed behind, never leaving the house, stubbornly guarding this empty house that was considered unlucky and filled with greedy covetous eyes, holding a wooden stick, not allowing outsiders to touch or encroach on even an inch of it.

After confirming the other party's identity and intentions through the token of Han Fei carried by Wei Liao, he relaxed his vigilance, led his men to the depths of the empty treasury, opened the hidden door, solemnly took out the carefully stored and tightly sealed wooden box, and handed it to him with both hands.

Even now, thinking back on it, Wei Liao still feels a mix of emotions.

He and Han Fei did not have much interaction, and their time together was only a brief seven days in Chen County. Although he respected Han Fei's virtue and character, the fact that he went to great lengths to plan, use spies, save lives, and escort him for thousands of miles was mostly due to Zi Cheng's entrustment. He was simply fulfilling a request and being loyal to his employer.

Only after this scene did he truly acknowledge Han Fei, pity him, feel sorry for him, and sincerely want to help him escape this prison-like predicament.

With a heart full of turmoil, Wei Liao gazed at Han Fei, who lay on the bed, lifeless and withered, and made a sincere promise:

"As long as Han Zi is willing to cooperate and recover his health, once your condition improves and you are ready to depart, I, Wei Liao, promise to personally return this royal sword to Zi Cheng intact, without fail. What do you say?"

Han Fei raised his eyes and stared at him intently.

After a long silence, he nodded very lightly and slowly, and a few hoarse, weak words escaped from his lips:

"Okay, I believe you."

Finally, watching Han Fei swallow the medicine soup from the old servant's hand spoonful by spoonful with difficulty, Wei Liao was overjoyed and so excited that he almost wanted to turn around and go to the Han King's Palace to create another "beautiful legend".

He pressed down on his restless foot, forcefully suppressing the thought—forget it, no rush, there will be plenty of opportunities later, he has a lot of things to do.

In the following days, Han Fei's health gradually improved. His high fever subsided, and although he still looked depressed and haggard, he was no longer the ashen-faced man who seemed ready to die at any moment.

Wei Liao cautiously probed, keeping a close watch on the situation, and had people move their hands and feet slowly in the room, take a few steps, sit for a while, and occasionally go to the window to look outside and clear their minds.

Han Fei was very cooperative, taking his medicine as instructed, lying down when he was supposed to, walking when he was supposed to, and even occasionally standing by the window for a while, staring blankly at the old tree in the courtyard.

Wei Liao observed him for several days and saw that he showed no signs of wanting to die. She figured that this person had probably... become a little more open-minded?

After days of tension eased slightly, Wei Liao finally had time to finish the last task Zhou Wenqing had entrusted to her.

Before leaving, Wei Liao repeatedly instructed the old servant to stay by his side at all times, and also ordered someone to keep a close watch on the house. Only after confirming that the house was safe and secure did he feel at ease to leave.

When he returned after resolving everything, Han Fei was perfectly fine. Wei Liao breathed a sigh of relief and felt much more at ease. He immediately began preparing for his return to Qin.

If they don't leave now, South Korea will be destroyed, and he won't be able to persuade the people he's finally managed to stabilize to come back.

At the last moment, the carriages and horses were ready, and the car was parked outside the courtyard. Everyone was busy packing their bags, and everyone thought that the end was peaceful and everything was settled.

The tense atmosphere of the past few days suddenly relaxed, and everyone's vigilance quietly dropped to its lowest level.

It is precisely in this most peaceful and relaxed moment—

Han Fei, who had always been gentle, calm, and seemingly at peace, suddenly launched an attack.

No one predicted it, and no one stopped it.

He mustered all the strength he had regained over the past few days, suddenly turned around, and before the old servant beside him could stop him, he crashed headlong into the old tree in the courtyard.

"Thump!"

Wei Liao was instantly horrified.