Chapter 2: Affairs of the Realm and Affairs Before the Eyes

"That man of Yan was utterly treacherous — under the pretext of presenting a map, he concealed a sharp blade and tried to assassinate the Great King…"

"Ah!"

The people nearby all drew a sharp breath, listening intently as Ji Ying recounted this heart-stopping tale. Only when they heard the Great King was unharmed did they finally exhale in relief, one after another cursing the assassin and the state of Yan, while congratulating themselves:

"The Great King is shielded by Heaven above — nothing could ever happen to him."

It was plain to see that, at least for now, the King of Qin, Ying Zheng, in the hearts of ordinary Qin folk, still stood equal with the azure sky itself — deeply revered.

Only Heifu felt a pang of regret for Jing Ke, then sank into deep thought.

He had heard from his eldest brother Zhong that three years ago (230 BC), Han had been conquered and destroyed by Teng, the present Governor of Nan Commandery; one year ago (228 BC), the Zhao capital Handan had also been seized by the Qin army — Zhong had even taken part in that campaign.

And now, Jing Ke's attempt on the King of Qin had also occurred, which meant that the state of Yan would soon be finished!

As a history enthusiast, Heifu knew the script that followed: in retaliation, King Ying Zheng of Qin would send a great army to punish Yan. The next year, the Yan capital would fall, Crown Prince Dan would be killed, and the King of Yan would retreat to hold Liaodong.

At the same time, the Qin army was also fiercely assaulting the city of Daliang — the state of Wei, too, would soon perish.

With that, Qin would have swept across the north, and the sword of King Ying Zheng of Qin would soon point south toward the state of Chu!

"Which is to say, in two more years, the Qin–Chu war will erupt in full."

Heifu counted on his fingers, and his heart sank. Those great affairs of the realm, which had seemed so distant, were bound up with his own fate. With every Qin victory, the footsteps of death crept steadily closer to him.

The war in which Qin destroyed Chu lasted several years. At its most intense, the great Qin general Wang Jian mobilized six hundred thousand men… Nan Commandery bordered Chu and was a critical conscription zone; as a local rank-and-file soldier, Heifu would certainly not be spared.

When the conscription order was placed in his hand, what was he to do?

Flee?!

The thought merely flickered through his mind and was immediately rejected by Heifu.

No! Qin was utterly ruthless toward "absconders" who evaded military service. Once captured, not only would the man himself be punished with tattooing and enslaved, but his family and neighbors would all be implicated and penalized. One man runs, the whole family suffers.

And even if he truly fled, where could he flee to? Although Anlu County was not far from Chu, and with a little care it wouldn't be too hard to slip past the passes and fords, Qin's unification was the overwhelming trend — the destruction of the Six States was only a matter of sequence.

Even leaving the Central Plains would be useless. Later on, the First Emperor would go on to conquer every region of the known world. How did that saying go? "Within the six directions, all is the Emperor's land. West to the shifting sands, south to the northern households, east to the Eastern Sea, north beyond Daxia — wherever human footsteps reach, none are not his subjects." Even if Heifu fled to the ends of the earth, he would still ultimately fall under Qin's rule.

Besides, although the common people of Qin had to pay heavy taxes and cope with relentless corvée and military service — a bit harsher than in the rich Central Plains, and their spiritual world was not as prosperous as the people of Qi's — the most important point was this: here, at least, the lower classes were provided a fair and impartial channel for advancement, namely the military merit rank system!

Reincarnation is not the only art — transmigration is one as well. In those novels where the protagonist opens his eyes to find himself a concubine's son of a noble house, or a prince or royal scion — oh, how Heifu envied them. If he, too, had a good birth, it would certainly be more fitting to dream his life away and do as he pleased in some other state. But as a commoner with no background yet brimming with ideals, he was still better off staying in Qin.

"What are you lot muttering about now? If anyone speaks recklessly, slandering the Great King or the officials, don't blame this old man for reporting you!"

Just then, the hostel keeper came slowly bearing hot broth, and did not forget to issue a warning.

The men hastily protested they would never dare. They exchanged glances, dropped the topic, and rose to take the hot broth.

The talkative Ji Ying had barely taken a sip before he complained, "Old sir, this hot broth isn't hot — surely it wasn't brought to a boil!"

The old hostel keeper glared at him. "If you don't like it, go outside and drink the rain!"

Only then did Ji Ying cease his complaints, merely muttering softly behind the old keeper's back.

Heifu was inwardly amused. Though this hostel was not large, it was well maintained and at least served to keep the rain off. Under another's eaves, one must bow one's head; no one dared offend the old keeper and get thrown outside into the rain. Their group was made up either of rankless soldiers or lowly First-Rank men — indeed, nothing to make anyone think highly of them.

After dealing with Heifu and the others in perfunctory fashion, the old hostel keeper went back into the kitchen. When he emerged a moment later, a young girl followed behind him, dressed in a brown full-body robe and carrying a tray with a food box in both hands, trailing step by step behind the old keeper — likely his daughter.

Though the girl could not be called pretty, she instantly drew the attention of the soldiers by the hearth. The high-spirited Ji Ying was tempted to whistle but ultimately dared not; he merely stood up to glance at the fine food on the tray, swallowed, and asked, "Old sir, who is that meal for?"

The hostel keeper still had no patience for them and replied with a cold laugh, "It's for the Grand Master in the left quarters. If you lot want to eat like that, go raise your rank first!"

Grand Master was the fifth rank of Qin's twenty-rank hierarchy — already considered a middle-tier rank.

Ji Ying could only squat back down. After staring at the girl's swaying waist for a long while, until she vanished from sight, he finally said indignantly, "I saw that tray held not only polished white rice and clear, sweet water, but also meat! And the keeper personally took his daughter to deliver it — don't tell me he's hoping that Grand Master will take her as a concubine? That shameless old lecher, he really has the nerve!"

"He is a Grand Master, after all — naturally his treatment differs from soldiers like us."

Heifu could not help sighing as well. Unlike Ji Ying, he did not rail against the world's injustices; he simply sat down quietly and took out the food his mother had prepared for him from his satchel: hou, which was steamed rice dried in the sun into field rations. Though it filled the belly, its taste truly left much to be desired.

He could only swallow his dry rice while smelling the savory aroma of fish and meat drifting from next door. Reaching his ears, too, were the old hostel keeper's obsequious, fawning words — a world of difference from the attitude he had shown them just moments before.

This incident made Heifu understand even more clearly that Qin was a rigidly stratified class society, where treatment was entirely determined by rank.

Not only was the food different, but so were the lodgings. Small folk like Heifu and the others, just passing through, could only crowd together and sleep on the ground. Those of rank below Third Rank, equivalent to minor clerks, could sleep in large communal bunks. A Grand Master like the man next door, comparable to a later-era county bureau chief or department-level cadre, had a private room to rest in — and perhaps even the hostel keeper's daughter to help wash his feet and massage them…

Ah, the gap between one man and another.

By the time Heifu finished his meal with the hot broth, the night was already deep. The old hostel keeper had forgotten to add firewood to the floor hearth in the main room; the fire soon died out, and it grew colder and colder around them. The soldiers could only huddle together for warmth.

The others had long grown accustomed to such treatment and quickly sank into deep slumber, the room soon filled with snoring. But Heifu could not sleep; he was still pondering his plans for the future.

"People have been divided into ranks high and low since ancient times."

In the darkness, recalling all that he had experienced these past days, Heifu clenched his fists and secretly resolved: "I understand now. If I want a good life in Qin, if I want to escape the fate of filling a ditch, the only way right now is to obtain a rank!"

PS: Since major Qin-history authorities like Ma Feibai and Lin Jianming all refer to the First Emperor as "Ying Zheng" in their monographs, there's no need to split hairs in the novel — ease of reading comes first. A new book in July, I hope everyone will support it.

(End of chapter)