Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

The morning light, like fine needles tempered by fire, pierced through the window and precisely stabbed into Zhou Wenqing's eyelids.

"Well……"

A muffled groan escaped his throat. Before he could even open his eyes, a dull, throbbing pain in his skull and the subsequent dizziness gripped him. His stomach churned, as if he were carrying a cold, damp stone.

His eyelids felt heavy and sticky, and it took him a long time to pry them open.

In the blurry vision, there were unfamiliar tent roofs, simple log beams, and a strange, bitter fragrance in the air.

This is not his room.

Zhou Wenqing propped himself up on the bed, his chaotic thoughts like a pot of burnt porridge, struggling to begin bubbling.

He instinctively raised his hand, wanting to rub his throbbing temples, trying to relieve the excruciating pain, but fragmented memories from last night kept surfacing...

"Your Majesty... this wine... is quite strong... but next time... please drink less... for your health..."

"Your Majesty... if I ever become extremely tired in the future... I might sleep standing up for a while... could you... just pretend you didn't see me and not wake me?"

"With my years of dedicated practice in stealing sleep techniques... you definitely won't be able to tell!"

Zhou Wenqing's hand, which was rubbing his temples, suddenly froze in mid-air.

What...what has he done?!

He shakily raised his hand to his eyes, staring at his fingertips with wide, bulging eyes.

He actually did it!

He actually...

He even patted the King of Qin on the shoulder!

They even used that condescending, "I have faith in you, you should listen to my advice" tone!

What's worse, he couldn't recall at all what the king he had patted on the shoulder and "admonished" had looked like at the time.

It's over—his image is shattered beyond repair.

Zhou Wenqing collapsed, feeling utterly exhausted. He felt as if his bones had been removed, and with a thud, he slumped back onto the bed, pulled the blanket over his head, and curled up into a hot, scalding ball.

He didn't want to face it.

I don't want to at all.

Why not just forget it all completely?!

From under the covers came a muffled, almost collapsing groan:

"Taishe is dead—"

……

Despite his reluctance, Zhou Wenqing struggled to get up. The persistent knocking outside the door, mixed with the lingering echo of the broken gong in his head, made his temples throb.

It was Li Yi. Hearing the noise, he knew that the young master had woken up, so he specially brought over some hangover soup.

The herbal decoction was very effective, but the taste was a bit strange, which initially worried Li Yi.

But when he carefully pushed open the door and entered, carrying a bowl of hangover soup of suspicious color and even more suspicious smell, he saw Zhou Wenqing sitting on the couch wrapped in a quilt, looking pale and lost in thought, as if he had no will to live.

Those usually bright eyes were now staring blankly into the void, as if gazing at the gentle and refined image of himself that had vanished with the wind the night before and could never be pieced back together.

"Young master, hangover soup..." Li Yi called softly.

Zhou Wenqing didn't say a word, but mechanically reached out, tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbed, and gulped it down in a few mouthfuls. The action was crisp and clean, and his face was completely unchanged, as if what he drank was not a hangover soup, but Meng Po soup that could sever the ill-fated relationship of last night.

As soon as he put the bowl down, he made a vow in his heart: From this day forward, I will never touch a drop of alcohol! Not even a single sip!

What a blunder! He was so annoyed that he felt like his guts were turning green. He thought that the murky liquid was at most ten degrees Celsius and had a slightly sour taste. He had originally thought it would be similar to beer in later generations, or at most a more flavorful version of a beverage.

Little did he know that this enhanced version of the attack would be so cunning and insidious, not only freeing his claws but also quietly severing the string that kept him from being cautious in his words and actions!

Aaaaaahh ...

He waved for Li Yi to leave first, barely managing to calm his turbulent emotions, and tried to offer some feeble self-consolation.

Calm down, Zhou Wenqing, what's the big deal? It's just... a tiny bit more lively body language, right? A pat on the shoulder, that's all. There are countless stories of emperors and ministers throughout history about this!

He deliberately ignored the fact that in those anecdotes of harmonious relationships between rulers and ministers, it was usually the ruler who patted the minister on the shoulder, and that he himself might have patted the minister too "solidly."

Thinking back, I, Zhou Wenqing, dared to talk freely about topics like vicious dogs devouring their owners and what would happen a hundred years later in front of the person in question. What was that little scene last night? It was just a little... awkward moment, wasn't it?

However, this self-hypnosis had barely begun when memories uncontrollably resurfaced and delivered the final blow—

The momentary freeze when Ying Zheng was patted on the shoulder, and his own smug sharing of his "sleep-stealing experience"...

It's so embarrassing!!!

His pitiful self-consolation vanished instantly, replaced by an embarrassment sharper than the dull pain of a hangover, which gripped him once more, numbing him from head to toe.

He suddenly raised his hand to cover his flushed face, letting out a sigh that was almost a sob through his fingers.

Well... we can only hope that everyone at the table drank themselves into oblivion last night and doesn't remember anything.

He was almost praying fervently, engaging in a final, utterly unconvincing self-deception.

As the hangover soup gradually took effect, the dizziness that was churning in his mind and the discomfort in his stomach were gradually suppressed, allowing him to at least sit up and do some basic thinking.

No, I can't keep hiding under the covers like an ostrich; I have to face reality.

Ah Zhu should be staying here too. I want to take him to Xianyang, but I need to explain things to Aunt Liu, and I also need to say goodbye to the people in the village who showed me kindness. Heading to Xianyang is urgent...

Taking a deep breath, Zhou Wenqing threw off the covers and began to dress and wash up with slightly stiff movements.

He tried to straighten his back, attempting to regain his usual gentle and composed demeanor, and pushed open the door. As expected, Li Yi was waiting outside.

Zhou Wenqing, speaking to Li Yi in as calm a voice as possible, instructed, "Yi, get ready. Go find Zhu. We... will sneak back."

He imbued the word "quietly" with all his hopes.

Li Yi understood immediately. The two of them tiptoed out of the room, following the shadows of the corridor and moving along the wall without looking back, heading towards the courtyard gate.

Zhou Wenqing thought that as long as he returned to his little courtyard and closed the door, he could get a moment's respite and slowly process this epic embarrassment.

As for those three people at the dinner last night... he doesn't want to see any of them again anytime soon!

However, Li Yi, who was following behind him, had a shifty look in his eyes, sometimes glancing at the seemingly deserted rooftops, sometimes sweeping over the silent tree trunks, and his lips twitched slightly, clearly having already foreseen the outcome of this "secret escape".

really……

Just as Zhou Wenqing's fingertips were about to touch the bolt symbolizing freedom, a ripple of hope stirred within him—

"Brother Zicheng, you're up at this hour? You drank so much yesterday, yet you still have so much energy today. I truly admire you!"

Her clear, smiling voice, like a pre-laid net, fell steadily at his most relaxed moment.

Zhou Wenqing froze instantly.

In the end... I couldn't escape it.

With a bitter face, clinging to the last shred of hope that Li Si might have just happened to run into him early in the morning, he turned around extremely slowly, almost haltingly.

As long as he didn't run into the King of Qin, Zhou Wenqing thought he could barely handle it. He was still mentally preparing an excuse to get by, and he forced out what he considered a decent smile.

However, the moment he turned around and his gaze fell entirely upon the courtyard—

hum!

My mind went completely blank for a moment, and my pupils dilated.

Why... is everyone here?!

It was still the same stone table, and the same people were still sitting around it. Only the messy wine jars and bowls from last night had been removed and replaced by a simple earthenware pot. A few wisps of white steam were rising slowly from the spout, disappearing in the morning light.

General Wang Jian sat on a stone bench, looking radiant and full of energy, showing no trace of the hangover. He seemed to have just finished a vigorous workout, with a few beads of sweat still on his forehead, and he was full of energy enough to drink three more jars of liquor.

Seeing Zhou Wenqing standing frozen in the corridor, he immediately waved his hand generously, his voice booming like a bell, making Zhou Wenqing's already fragile head tremble even more: "Mr. Zhou is awake? Come quickly! I thought you were bedridden and couldn't get up. Come and have some hot tea to wake you up!"

Li Si sat below Wang Jian, wearing a dark green robe that made his face appear somewhat pale from a hangover, but he was clearly in much better spirits than Zhou Wenqing.

After all, he didn't have to endure the additional, soul-crushing, embarrassing question of "what did I do last night?" on top of his hangover headache.

However, the look in his eyes when he looked at Zhou Wenqing was so deep it seemed like it could be wrung out, and the smile on his lips looked like he was gritting his teeth.

"Brother Zicheng, you really have a good capacity for alcohol," he said slowly. "You've drunk me under the table, and my head is still throbbing. I'm truly ashamed of myself for not being able to drink as much as you."

At the head of the stone table, Ying Zheng sat leisurely, even holding a ceramic cup in his hand, his fingertips casually stroking the rim of the cup.

Hearing the noise, she calmly raised her eyes, her gaze landing precisely on Zhou Wenqing, a faint smile in her eyes, as if she had anticipated his sneaky escape.

When Zhou Wenqing was simultaneously focused on by these three gazes, he felt his face suddenly burn, his ears became incredibly hot, and even his neck turned crimson.

He wished the bluestone slab beneath his feet would immediately crack open so he could disappear from everyone's sight in an instant.

Unfortunately, the bluestone slab remained as sturdy as ever...

There was nowhere to escape, nowhere to avoid.

He could only force his almost rusted neck to nod in the direction of General Wang Jian as a response, and then slowly move towards the stone table that had attracted everyone's attention, step by step, with each step closer, the embarrassment grew heavier.

Finally, he shuffled closer to the stone table, stopped, and forced a dry smile.

"Your Majesty, General Wang, Brother Gu'an, good morning! The weather is really nice today."

"Your Majesty, General Wang, Brother Gu'an, good morning... The weather today is really nice."

He tried to mask the turmoil in his heart with the most insignificant small talk.

However, before he could finish speaking, Ying Zheng, who was at the head of the table, spoke first.

He put down the ceramic cup in his hand, making a soft sound, and his gaze fell on Zhou Wenqing's face, which was trying to remain calm but could not hide his guilty conscience. The corners of his lips curved almost imperceptibly.

"Brother Zicheng looks to be in relatively good health."

After a brief pause, a faint, almost mischievous glint seemed to flash in Ying Zheng's eyes before he slowly added the second half of the sentence:

"But the 'rehearsal' went well last night?"