The following morning, Ying Zheng jolted awake from a dream.
Ying Zheng recalled the dream, which had been far too vivid, and yawned.
His raised hand bumped into something cold. A moment later, he stared at the light orb emerging from it.
…It hadn’t been a dream.
It was still dark outside, but Zhao Ji was already tending the stove.
Ying Zheng got up with dark circles under his eyes. Zhao Ji was startled. He told his mother a mouse had gotten into his room and kept him awake, then hurriedly ate a few mouthfuls of bean porridge.
Zhao Ji wasn’t especially observant. She took his distracted air for a sign that he hadn’t slept well.
As the light began to fade, Ying Zheng slipped back into his room.
He changed into a short hemp tunic he could climb walls and dart through alleys in. He strapped his dagger against his forearm, the point resting against his wrist bone—a position from which he could draw it at any moment.
The game manual said dying in an instance wouldn’t affect the real world, but Ying Zheng still did everything he could to prepare.
He wasn’t about to trust a promise just because he didn’t know whether it was true.
“Start the game.”
Ying Zheng’s round-cheeked face was solemn.
The orb, visible only to him, emerged from the jade in his palm. It circled him twice, then slipped into the center of his brow.
Ying Zheng felt it brush his cheek. The touch was so quick he wondered if he’d imagined it.
It must have been his imagination. A simulator was a divine artifact. Why would it deliberately touch his face?
Ying Zheng quickly shoved aside the foolish thought that he was imagining things.
[Scanning player…
Player: Ying Zheng
Age: Eight (Underage Playtime Restriction Mode activated automatically)]
[Skill Check:
Heaven’s Mandate (Growth Trait, gray): Hostage prince of Qin. For now, your identity only brings you trouble.
Unforgettable Memory (gold): You were born clever, with a memory that never fails.
Ambition (purple): You harbor extraordinary ambitions. They will drive you to make choices that overturn your fate.]
A large roulette wheel appeared on the pale-blue screen. It was divided into several broad sections, each containing a host of tiny labels too small to make out.
Ying Zheng caught the words “Han” and “Song” before the screen spun faster than he could follow.
[This is your first beginner instance, and you still have underage protection. It should choose an era you’re familiar with.]
System 108 tried to reassure him.
The pointer finally stopped on [Spring and Autumn and Warring States].
[Game starting.
Era: Late Warring States Period
Quest: Save Jixia Academy, which is about to vanish into the river of history when the Six States attack Qi. (Crossed out.)
This is a Newbie Bonus Scenario. Quest changed to: Rescue Fan Ju.]
[Livestream Room opened.]
“Oh, my poor sister!”
A wail pierced Ying Zheng’s ears. He looked up and found himself on a jolting donkey cart.
A man in hemp clothes sat beside it, sniffling. When Ying Zheng didn’t move, the man wiped his face with a silk handkerchief, lifted him down, and gave the driver a handful of cloth coins.
Ying Zheng’s body stiffened. As he lowered his eyes, he noticed a gray-blue silk lining peeking out from the man’s sleeve.
A merchant, he decided.
Ying Zheng had met plenty of merchants in Zhao. Every state valued farming over trade, and merchants ranked at the bottom of society. No matter how rich they were, they couldn’t wear fine clothes. But they had money, and many secretly wore silk or fine linen beneath their hemp robes.
When the man saw Ying Zheng still hadn’t reacted, he assumed the boy was in shock. “I’m your uncle! I even held you when you were little.”
He took Ying Zheng by the hand and led him into the courtyard, chattering as they went. As a merchant, the man was quick with his words. In a few sentences, he’d explained how they were related.
His name was Zheng Anping. He was a merchant from Wei State, and Ying Zheng’s uncle in this instance. Zheng Anping’s older sister had married into Zhao ten years earlier. She and her husband had died of a plague the year before, leaving their only child in Zheng Anping’s care.
Ying Zheng’s name here was Zhang Zheng.
[You are Zhang Zheng, an orphan from Handan in Zhao. You’ve come to Daliang in Wei to live with your uncle, Zheng Anping, a merchant from Wei.]
Zheng Anping sounded as if he were narrating the scene.
He felt sorry for the only child his sister had left behind, and hurriedly called for a servant to wash and change the boy.
Ying Zheng blinked and clenched his fist. The overwhelming realism sent waves crashing through his mind.
What incredible power!
Perhaps he could rely on this ghost—or god—called the System not only to return to Qin, but also to…
“Zhang Zheng, you must be exhausted from the journey. Go wash up first.” Zheng Anping handed him over to the servant, drawing Ying Zheng’s thoughts back to the moment.
After changing into fresh clothes, Ying Zheng sat down to eat with Zheng Anping.
The sight of his nephew made Zheng Anping wipe his eyes again. He held Ying Zheng’s hand and talked and cried for the better part of half an hour. At last, he asked again and again, “Did you suffer on the journey? It’s a long way from Zhao to Wei, and full of bandits. Did anything happen to you?”
Ying Zheng had no memories of fleeing or traveling, so he had to bluff. He pieced together a few stories he’d heard wandering knights boast about in Handan—things like spending the night in a ruined shrine and running into wolves.
“Your uncle will teach you swordsmanship.” Zheng Anping listened in turns with alarm and sympathy. He patted Ying Zheng’s back. “These are dangerous times. You can’t go anywhere unless you know how to fight.”
After the meal, Zheng Anping took Ying Zheng to his study and pulled several swords from behind a wooden shelf. When he turned around, he found his little nephew standing in front of the bookcase, eyes shining as he stared at the bamboo slips.
“Those old slips are no good. They’ll put you to sleep, and they’re useless besides. I’m going to teach you the sword!”
Without another word, Zheng Anping hauled Ying Zheng away. Ying Zheng’s body went with him, but his gaze lingered on the bamboo slips, reluctant to let go.
At last, a few viewers wandered into the livestream.
[Stream comment: What an adorable little guy, but isn’t he a bit too young?]
A handful of people dropped in. Seeing that the player was obviously a child, they lost interest and left.
At dawn the next morning, the moon had yet to set. Thin clouds looked like diluted ink, and faint fireflies flickered over the sedge.
The rooster Zheng Anping kept to announce the morning was still huddled in its nest.
A figure slipped quietly out of the inner room.
Ying Zheng pushed open the study door with care and squeezed through the narrow gap.
Zheng Anping wasn’t as wealthy as Lu Buwei, but he could afford oil lamps. Ying Zheng lit one, stood on tiptoe, and pulled a bamboo slip from the shelf. He opened it eagerly, only for his face to fall.
He couldn’t read Wei script.
Ying Zheng angrily shoved the bamboo slip back onto the shelf.
The whole world ought to use the same writing system!
Zheng Anping soon realized there was something unusual about his nephew. More specifically, the boy was so obsessed with reading that he couldn’t tear himself away from it. On the second day of sword lessons, he asked to learn Wei script and the Wei language too.
Zheng Anping happily agreed. His nephew had come from Zhao and would be living with him in Wei. Of course it was important for him to learn Wei’s language and writing.
But once Ying Zheng started studying, Zheng Anping noticed something was wrong. He had specially prepared a copy of the Classic of Poetry to teach Ying Zheng the basics, and had even invited a down-on-his-luck scholar to serve as a retainer.
In less than three months, the scholar had shamefacedly asked to leave. Zheng Anping assumed Ying Zheng had been difficult and offered to pay him more to stay.
But the scholar said, “Your nephew has already learned everything I know. My scholarship is meager, and I dare not hold him back.” He urged Zheng Anping to send Ying Zheng to Jixia Academy in Qi, where he could study under the great thinkers of the various schools.
As the old scholar spoke, he glanced at Zheng Anping with a look of pity: How could a gem like this have been born into the household of a vulgar merchant like you?
Zheng Anping thought it over all night and decided he really ought to do something.
Not only for Ying Zheng, his nephew, but for himself as well. He didn’t want to spend his whole life as a merchant, sneaking around just to wear silk.
Ying Zheng spent nearly all his time in the study.
He didn’t care that he’d “driven” the tutor away and had no one left to teach him. The scholar Zheng Anping had hired wasn’t as knowledgeable as the teachers Lu Buwei had once sent to teach him to read. In barely two months, Ying Zheng had learned everything the man knew.
There was nothing more he could get from him.
He still had no idea how to complete the System’s quest. He didn’t even know who Fan Ju was. So Ying Zheng set the quest aside and devoted himself to studying.
Here, he could genuinely learn.
The System was far more useful than Lu Buwei, that stand-in father of his!
As Ying Zheng returned to his books, a few comments drifted across the livestream screen, invisible to him.
[Stream comment: Checking in. One more day studying for the grad school entrance exam.]
[Stream comment: Checking in. I’ve finished one more subject for finals week.]
[Stream comment: First time here. Why is everyone checking in? What does this streamer do?]
Much later, another comment appeared.
[Stream comment: I guess he’s a study-with-me streamer. He’s young, but he loves studying and spends ten hours a day at it…]
A few days later, Zheng Anping got Ying Zheng out of bed early. He was in high spirits, and had Ying Zheng put on new clothes. Then he loaded a cart with bolts of cloth and valuables and set off with the boy.
“Your uncle is taking you to meet an important person today.” Zheng Anping was so excited that he told Ying Zheng all about what had happened over the past few days.
Only then did Ying Zheng learn that Zheng Anping had spent the last few days paying people to pull strings. He had finally secured an invitation to a banquet hosted by Wei Qi, a prince of Wei and the state’s chancellor.
Zheng Anping reminded Ying Zheng to watch his words and not to rush into currying favor with the powerful.
“We’re just there to make an appearance today. We’ll mingle with the crowd and have a meal, that’s all. Don’t go trying to draw attention to yourself.” Zheng Anping sighed. “These nobles look down on us. Push our way in too hard, and we’ll only annoy them.”
He meant to warn Ying Zheng, but the words were also a warning to himself. Even Ying Zheng could hear the resentment beneath them.
“There’s another way,” Ying Zheng said, looking up. “If a noble recommends you, a merchant can enter government service too.”
“That’s true,” Zheng Anping muttered. The more he thought about it, the more remarkable his nephew seemed. “You’re so young, and you already understand how to get ahead.”
Ying Zheng’s mouth twisted. Zhao Ji had told him about Lu Buwei’s efforts to befriend his father, Ying Yiren, more times than he could count.
He’d heard the phrase a rare commodity so often he was sick of it.
Before long, the carriage stopped in front of a vermilion lacquered gate. The residence had sweeping eaves and ornate beams, bronze animal-head knockers, and halberds displayed outside to proclaim its power. Carriages and horses passed through the gate without pause.
This was the residence of Wei Qi, prince and powerful chancellor of Wei.
The servants coming and going were sharp-eyed. They took one look at Ying Zheng and Zheng Anping in their coarse hemp robes and knew they were rich but low-born. None of them came forward to greet them.
Zheng Anping hurriedly put on a smile and pressed a gold leaf into the hand of a passing servant. Only then did the man agree to show them inside.
“That’s how the world works. Merchants are lowly. You can have plenty of money and still be looked down on everywhere you go.” Zheng Anping worried that Ying Zheng, being young and hot-tempered, might take offense and anger the nobles. He leaned over to reassure him.
Then he turned and saw Ying Zheng looking perfectly calm, more composed than he was himself. Zheng Anping scratched his head and awkwardly let the subject drop.
They followed the servant through three red-lacquered doorways. Beside the white-stone path in the courtyard stood bronze goose-and-fish lamps. Zheng Anping couldn’t help looking intimidated.
Such wealth!
But once they entered the main courtyard, the servant led them past the main hall and straight to a small side hall tucked into a corner. Several retainers of the chancellor, dressed in brocade robes with jade belt hooks, stood inside. Merchants had gathered around them, eager to pay their respects.
The retainers looked haughty. They barely glanced at the merchants smiling obsequiously around them.
Zheng Anping’s expression darkened. He muttered a curse under his breath. Ying Zheng didn’t catch the words, but he could guess what his uncle was thinking.
On the carriage ride over, Zheng Anping had boasted that he’d spent a hundred gold pieces greasing palms so he could bring Ying Zheng to the chancellor’s banquet and make connections among the powerful.
Wei Qi had taken the money, then sent a few retainers to deal with the merchants.
Zheng Anping brooded for a while. Then he wiped his face, and by the time his sleeve came down, his smile was back.
“We’re already here. No point wasting the money.” He tried to convince himself as he picked up a wine cup and went to make polite conversation.
Ying Zheng, however, sat calmly in a seat at the edge of the room. The dismissive and curious looks around him made no impression at all.
“What family are you from?” A boy in the adjoining seat wore a black cap. Seeing the poise of the child beside him, despite his young age, he grew interested and put on a smile. “Which clan?”
Ying Zheng glanced at him and answered, “I’m one of the Zheng merchants.”
The boy frowned at once, looking as if he’d spotted something filthy. Disdain crept across his face. “A merchant’s child dares sit here?”
He was the son of a fallen noble family. Men like him were often the quickest to insist on the importance of rank. With nothing else to take pride in, they used their birth to make themselves feel superior.
Ying Zheng lowered his eyes to the clear water in his cup, his mouth set in a hard line.
He silently added Wei to his list—and ranked it just behind Zhao.
[Stream comment: Wow, the streamer finally left the house. That ugly guy was awful. How dare he bully our sweet, adorable little streamer?]
[Stream comment: Our little streamer only knows how to study. He doesn’t understand any of this scheming!]
[Stream comment: By the way, what’s the little streamer’s quest? He hasn’t left the house in days.]
Two sparse comments drifted past.
