“I do know of one worthy man. His name is Zhang Lu,” the attendant clerk said, lifting his head to reveal a fawning smile.
It was Zheng Anping.
Before the Qin mission even entered Daliang, Zheng Anping had already found out which guest house they would be staying at. He bribed the officials and secured himself a lowly clerk’s position.
Wang Ji immediately took an interest.
“Where is this man? Bring him to me.”
“He has old grievances with powerful men at court and can’t show his face in public.” Zheng Anping lowered his voice and bent even farther forward. “If the envoy is willing to meet him, he can come pay his respects after dark.”
That only made Wang Ji more interested. He agreed to Zheng Anping’s proposal at once.
As luck would have it, Shang Yang had fled Wei, and Zhang Yi had gone to Qin after suffering humiliation. Now Zhang Lu had a grievance against Wei’s powerful men too. He was exactly the sort of man Qin wanted.
A stone fell from Zheng Anping’s heart. He hurried home and went straight to the study in the rear courtyard.
Fan Ju and Ying Zheng were indeed taking turns asking and answering questions inside. Zheng Anping had grown used to the scene, but he had no time to listen now.
“Change your clothes quickly,” he urged Fan Ju. “I’ve arranged it with the Qin envoy. He’ll wait for you at the guest house tonight. Go in through the back door and don’t let anyone see you.”
Fan Ju merely smiled and tapped Ying Zheng lightly on the forehead with a knuckle. Ying Zheng had been sitting beside him, listening in.
“Focus.”
Ying Zheng tugged at the corner of his mouth and returned his gaze to the bamboo slips, though his ears remained sharply tuned to the conversation.
Zheng Anping stamped his foot. “What are you waiting for? Everything comes down to tonight. Hurry up and wash and change, Brother Fan. I’ve prepared a generous gift for the envoy—”
“No need.” Fan Ju raised a hand to stop him, his voice certain. “The Qin envoy didn’t come for money.”
Zheng Anping couldn’t get his head around it. “If you don’t pave the way with a hefty gift, why would he go to any extra trouble for you?”
Fan Ju was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Qin isn’t like Wei.”
Night fell.
Zheng Anping personally drove Fan Ju to the back entrance of the guest house, then hurried home. Daliang enforced its curfew strictly, and Zheng Anping didn’t dare stay out long. He could only return and wait anxiously.
The water clock crept toward the fifth watch. Zheng Anping paced back and forth in the hall, unable to settle.
“I wonder if the Qin envoy will think highly of Fan Ju,” he muttered, his palms slick with cold sweat.
He had staked too much on Fan Ju. If this failed, the money would be the least of his worries. Having offended Wei Qi would be a disaster. Whether Fan Ju succeeded or not, Zheng Anping could no longer stay in Wei.
Ying Zheng hadn’t gone to bed either. He held a roll of bamboo slips in his hands but hadn’t turned a page in half an hour.
I have to find a way to go to Qin with Fan Ju.
No. He should call it returning to Qin. Qin was his homeland.
Ying Zheng closed his eyes and tried to picture Xianyang as Zhao Ji had described it. But he couldn’t imagine a thing. He had never been to Xianyang, and Zhao Ji had never been there either.
All he could remember were Handan and Daliang, the capitals of Zhao and Wei—not Xianyang, the capital of Qin.
“Uncle.” Ying Zheng suddenly tugged at Zheng Anping’s sleeve and lifted his face, his eyes rimmed red.
“Is Master Fan leaving Wei? Will we still get to see him again?”
Zheng Anping was a little surprised. His nephew usually wore a solemn expression and was shy around him. In half a year, he had hardly called him “Uncle” at all, much less shown such dependence.
Zheng Anping immediately felt ten feet tall.
“Mm. I’m sure Brother Fan will be put to good use by the King of Qin…”
Ying Zheng looked desolate. “Once Master Fan becomes an official in Qin, he won’t give us another thought, will he? Like those important people at the Chancellor’s residence. They all think merchants are beneath them.”
[I’m dead! Don’t cry, baby!]
[That wounded little face! Screenshotting! Screenshotting!]
Ying Zheng’s face was so disarming that he managed to draw a wave of viewers ready to adopt him as their son from an audience of college students cramming for finals.
[No. 108: …]
Zheng Anping, meanwhile, was caught by Ying Zheng’s words and began to worry.
He squirmed on the bamboo mat, unable to sit still. After a while, he looked at Ying Zheng hesitantly.
“Say, what if Fan Ju goes to Qin and turns around and forgets all about us?”
He was a merchant and had seen plenty of people forget old friends once they’d moved on. Besides, not long ago he had spent a fortune greasing palms so he could attend a banquet at Wei Qi’s residence, only to be treated as if he didn’t exist.
Ying Zheng gently reminded him, “He’s Master Zhang now, Uncle. Don’t call him by the wrong name.”
“Even if he becomes an official in Qin, he won’t be able to stand up to Wei’s Chancellor right away. He’ll probably have to keep using the name Zhang Lu for a few more years.” Ying Zheng slowly stood and walked to the doorway, gazing out into the deep darkness of the courtyard.
His voice sank, and he could barely hide his disappointment. “If Master really were my uncle, I could go with him to Qin openly. And then you could go to Qin and look after me too.”
Zheng Anping spun around, his eyes lighting up.
“Right! You’re his nephew!”
With his back to Zheng Anping, Ying Zheng quickly let the corner of his mouth turn up, then suppressed the smile and looked toward the night sky.
What a beautiful moon tonight.
The moon had passed its highest point. After waiting a little longer, Ying Zheng went to bed. Zheng Anping, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep at all. He stubbornly remained in the hall, waiting.
At the third cockcrow, while the morning dew still clung to the ground, a figure pushed open the hall door.
The wooden door creaked, waking Zheng Anping, who had been dozing against a pillar. He sprang to his feet and hurried forward.
Fan Ju stood in the doorway wearing a deep blue-green robe. The fine silk gleamed softly in the faint morning light. The strain and exhaustion of the past several days had faded from his brow, and a calm, self-assured smile touched his lips.
“It’s done,” he said simply. “Senior Official Wang and I agreed to meet seven days from now, south of San Ting.”
“Ah!” Zheng Anping was overjoyed. Then he began searching in a flurry for wine to celebrate. When he saw the bare table, he regretted not having prepared any in advance.
Still chagrined, he went to greet Fan Ju with a forced smile. “Congratulations, sir!”
His eyes fell on Fan Ju’s fine blue-green robe, and his manner grew unconsciously deferential.
In those days, the proper colors—blue-green, red, yellow, white, and black—were reserved for nobles. Commoners could wear only the lesser shades and were forbidden to overstep their station.
Looking at the fine robe Fan Ju had acquired overnight, Zheng Anping suddenly realized that Fan Ju was no longer the same as he was.
Fan Ju watched him quietly for a moment, then calmly slipped off the outer robe, revealing the old clothes he had worn when he left the Zheng household.
“The frost was heavy and the dew cold. Senior Official Wang was afraid I’d catch cold and miss our meeting, so he lent it to me.” Fan Ju walked over to the mat and sat down, pouring himself a bowl of cold water. “Where’s A-Zheng? Still asleep?”
“Uncle.”
Ying Zheng stepped out from beside the inner room’s door, his voice slightly hoarse with sleep.
He had been sleeping on a couch in the inner room. A light sleeper, he’d woken as soon as he heard the commotion outside.
Fan Ju raised an eyebrow. “Uncle?”
They might be uncle and nephew in name, but both of them knew the truth. For the past few months, Ying Zheng had called Fan Ju “Master,” and Fan Ju had treated him as a student.
Zheng Anping spoke with some embarrassment. “With Wei Qi so powerful, I expect you’ll have to keep using the name Zhang Lu for a few more years. I… I’m also planning to sell off my property in Wei and go to Qin to make a living.”
He was saying, in effect, that he hoped Fan Ju would take Ying Zheng—his “nephew”—with him to Qin. That would preserve the family connection and give them a reason to meet again in the future.
Fan Ju thought it over for a moment, then understood. He agreed readily.
“Don’t worry, Brother Zheng. Since A-Zheng calls me Uncle, I’ll take good care of him.”
Zheng Anping was so relieved by how readily he agreed that a genuine smile finally spread across his face.
“I’ll go prepare some food and wine. We should celebrate your success—and have a proper breakfast!”
He happily bustled off to make arrangements.
“If you’re tired, Master, you can rest in the inner room for a while.” Ying Zheng stepped aside to make way.
Fan Ju stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed helplessly.
“You, honestly. How can a child so young have so many schemes?”
Ying Zheng looked up at him with an innocent face. “What?”
“Brother Zheng is straightforward.” Fan Ju reached out and pointed lightly at Ying Zheng’s forehead, his meaning clear. “Unlike a certain someone.”
Ying Zheng pretended not to understand.
Yes. I’m only pretending not to understand because I’m being considerate of my elders.
The seven days passed in a flash.
The Qin mission had completed its business. At dusk, the convoy arrived at San Ting, near the Wei border, and paused briefly at the relay station. While the station guards tended to the horses, Wang Ji strolled alone to the southern side of the post. Fan Ju had been waiting there with Ying Zheng for some time.
Seeing the half-grown boy at Fan Ju’s side, Wang Ji asked a few questions. Once he learned that the boy was Fan Ju’s only surviving relative, he nodded in approval.
Bringing even his family along made it clear that Fan Ju was determined to put down roots in Qin. Good. That was exactly the attitude of someone seeking refuge in Qin.
The convoy rumbled back into motion and headed west into the vast darkness. Three days later, they passed through Shan City and entered Qin through Hangu Pass.
That day, Fan Ju spotted a procession approaching from the west. Banners snapped in the wind, and the entourage was magnificent. He asked, “Whose carriage is that? What a grand display.”
“Lord Rang is on his eastern inspection tour, on his way to his fief.” A trace of unease crossed Wang Ji’s face, and his body stiffened without his meaning to.
Fan Ju understood at once. “I’ll keep out of sight.” He grabbed Ying Zheng, who was looking around beside the carriage, and slipped into the carriage with him.
“Shh.” When Ying Zheng opened his mouth, Fan Ju held a finger to his lips.
Ying Zheng immediately fell silent and sat motionless, holding his breath. His right hand had already slipped into his sleeve to grip the dagger strapped to his arm.
His back was tense, like a small leopard poised to spring.
Fan Ju couldn’t help laughing. He patted Ying Zheng to show him that things hadn’t come to that.
A moment later, voices sounded outside the carriage.
A stranger’s voice, heavy with authority, asked Wang Ji whether he had brought a foreign persuader into Qin. Wang Ji gave an evasive answer.
The sound of hooves gradually faded.
“Lord Rang has gone, sir. You can come out now.” Wang Ji lifted the carriage curtain.
Fan Ju’s brow remained furrowed. He pulled Ying Zheng down from the carriage in one swift movement.
“Something’s wrong. If Lord Rang knows you brought someone from Wei, he’ll come back after failing to search the carriage. I’ll take A-Zheng on foot and lie low. We’ll meet you outside the city ahead.”
Before Wang Ji could answer, Fan Ju had already pulled Ying Zheng into the woods beside the road. In a few quick strides, they vanished from sight.
Ying Zheng said nothing. He ran close behind Fan Ju through the trees.
After about a mile and a half, Fan Ju finally stopped.
“Rest a moment.” He handed his water flask to Ying Zheng, who was panting hard.
Before Ying Zheng could ask, Fan Ju explained in a low voice.
“Wei Ran asked whether Wang Ji had brought a foreign persuader into Qin as soon as he opened his mouth. That means someone in the convoy must have warned him. He already knew Wang Ji was bringing me into Qin and came to intercept us. He won’t give up without finding me.”
Ying Zheng immediately understood. “Wang Ji was searching Wei for worthy men on the King’s orders. Lord Rang didn’t know about it beforehand.”
“He doesn’t want the King to gain a worthy adviser!” Ying Zheng blurted out.
“Lord Rang is the Queen Dowager’s brother. He holds the court in his grip, so of course he doesn’t want the King to have capable people at his side,” Fan Ju said slowly.
Then he smiled, a spark glinting in his eyes. “The winds are shifting. This is our chance to make a name for ourselves in one stroke.”
At once, Ying Zheng felt something inside him flare to life.
A flame surged through his veins, burning his ears and numbing his fingertips. Slowly, slowly, he clenched his fist until his nails dug into his soft palm.
