Chapter 356: Xiang Ji

"When people ask your name, you say you are Xiang Ji — have you got that?"

The youth nodded heavily and assured his uncle, "Your nephew understands!"

"What is your name?" As the servant was harnessing the carriage shafts, Xiang Liang suddenly turned his head and asked.

"Xiang Zhuang…" the youth answered instinctively, then corrected himself under his uncle's stern gaze, pressing his lips together and reporting the name of his cousin far away in their hometown of Xiaxiang.

"My name is Xiang Ji!"

"You absolutely must not answer wrong — otherwise, the Xiang clan is finished!"

Xiang Liang carefully exhorted him once more, then patted Xiang Zhuang and had him sit inside the carriage.

The carriage was an ordinary one with a nag and a shabby body; Xiang Zhuang had grown up riding in tall chariots with teams of four, so he always felt cramped and unable to fit. But there was no help for it — his uncle had told him that Chu had fallen, the Chu people had become slaves of a conquered state, and the Xiang clan was no longer a renowned aristocratic house that had held the jade baton for four generations, but had become "transported captives from east of the mountains," who had to be cautious and circumspect in every way just to survive.

Even so, the First Emperor of Qin had not forgotten them — Xiang Liang's name was on the relocation edict.

No matter how powerful a local snake, it fears leaving its nest; if the Xiang clan were uprooted and taken from the familiar lands of the Jiang and Huai rivers, they would likely suffer a devastating blow.

Fortunately, Xiang Liang played a little trick: he bribed the household clerk of Xiaxiang and split the family with his younger brother Xiang Chan (Xiang Bo). Because the document from Sishui Commandery stated "Xiang Liang is to be relocated," the Xiang clan was thus divided in two — Xiang Liang took his household dependents into Guanzhong, while Xiang Chan and Xiang Sheng remained behind in Xiaxiang with their retainers and followers.

By rights, his elder brother's son Xiang Ji should also have been relocated, but Xiang Liang knew Xiang Ji's temperament: though only thirteen, he possessed heaven-born divine strength and a violent temper, the sort who would kill a man in the street over a single quarrel. On top of that, he harbored extreme hatred for the Qin people; bringing him to Guanzhong would easily stir up trouble. So when the household clerk came to register the census and write out the travel permit, he had another nephew, Xiang Zhuang, impersonate Xiang Ji and brought him to Guanzhong instead.

Xiang Zhuang was slightly younger than Xiang Ji, but taciturn and quiet. A blunted sword hung at his waist as he gazed absently at the street scenes of Yueyang outside the carriage.

Of the one hundred twenty thousand households of transported captives who entered the pass, some were sent farther on to Longxi, Shang Commandery, Beidi, and Ba-Shu to strengthen the frontiers; half of the remainder went to the five imperial parks south of Xianyang to clear land and farm; the rest were dispersed and resettled in the various counties of the Interior Region.

The Xiang clan and quite a few noble houses of Chu were thus settled in Yueyang. They had only arrived at the end of the ninth month and had just gotten settled; today was the first time Xiang Liang had taken Xiang Zhuang out.

On the carriage, a gust of wind blew, and even though he wore winter clothes, the youth still shivered. He did not complain of the cold, only frowned, thinking to himself: if the first day of the tenth month is already this cold, what will it be like in another two months?

He missed the warm eastern Chu, missed Xiaxiang by the Sishui River — in summer, in the balmy river waters, all the boys of the clan would splash and wrestle and laugh, while the girls held lotus leaves as parasols, sitting in boats and watching them with smiles; across the plains, as far as the eye could see, flowers bloomed in profusion. Early autumn was not bad either: the sweet-and-sour tangerines shipped from Huainan were refreshing and crisp, and you could eat until your stomach could hold no more…

Xiang Zhuang did not like the north, did not like Guanzhong, and could not understand why the Qin people on the streets were so happy — some clutching chickens and ducks in hand, some carrying dog legs or fresh fish, going in and out of the market stalls, their faces wreathed in smiles as they exchanged congratulations. Their way of saluting was hideously ugly. In the hamlet, there were even people standing on wooden stumps, replacing the peachwood charms on their gates, just like the New Year.

"In Qin, the first day of the tenth month is the New Year."

Xiang Liang, who was driving the carriage himself, explained, "Today is New Year's Day."

Xiang Zhuang's eyes widened; he found it incomprehensible.

How could the year be celebrated in the tenth month?

This was also why Xiang Liang had chosen today to go out. Like many places in Qin, the whole of Yueyang was steeped in a festive atmosphere. The government offices were on holiday, and the petty clerks who usually kept a death-grip watch on every move the immigrants from east of the mountains made had relaxed and gone home to eat millet-and-meat stew.

In this atmosphere, Xiang Liang could conveniently visit an old acquaintance — under the pretext of New Year greetings, to gather some news…

Though Yueyang was only a county, its walled city was not small, for this had once been the old capital of Qin. Duke Xian of Qin, in order to contend with Wei for supremacy, had specially moved the capital here from Yongcheng; it was only under Duke Xiao of Qin that the capital moved to Xianyang. Yueyang had since grown quiet, but when the Zhengguo Canal was begun over ten years ago, it passed through the northern part of Yueyang, and much of Yueyang's land gained irrigation, turning it into the granary north of the Wei River. In recent years it had grown increasingly prosperous.

Xiang Liang, too, had pulled quite a few strings to ensure that his family's place of relocation was neither a remote frontier commandery like Ba-Shu, nor Xianyang right under the First Emperor's nose.

In his own words: "If the realm remains stable, then we shall sojourn in Yueyang, instructing our sons and nephews, so they do not forget the state's enmity and the family's hatred; if the realm changes, then we can slip away and return east…"

Harboring disloyal intentions, Xiang Liang needed a well-informed channel for news.

They traveled from the west of the city all the way to the east. The carriage stopped, and Xiang Liang got down, having the servant who followed behind hand the ceremonial gift to him.

The ceremonial gift was a present exchanged when nobles from east of the mountains met, especially when a person of lower status visited one of higher status — upon entering to pay respects, a ceremonial gift was mandatory. What Xiang Liang now held in his hand was a wind-dried green-headed wild duck, which the Chu region called "green-head" and the Central Plains called wu.

Xiang Zhuang, before Chu's fall, had often accompanied his family to banquets and still remembered some of the rules of feasting, so he said quietly, "Uncle, when our house visited others in the past, did we not always present a lamb?"

Xiang Liang gave a bitter smile. "A lone noble presents skins and silk; a minister presents a lamb; a grand officer presents a wild goose; a serviceman presents a pheasant; a commoner presents a duck; a craftsman or merchant presents a chicken. Our house is now neither High Pillar of State nor Bearer of the Jade Baton — we are merely ordinary black-headed commoners!"

"Black-headed commoners…" Xiang Zhuang lowered his head. Back in Xiaxiang, whenever his cousin Xiang Ji recited this term, he would fly into a towering rage, saying it meant slaves.

At the time, Xiang Zhuang had not felt it deeply; only after entering Guanzhong did he understand the humiliation it carried.

Their uncle had taught them to recite "Encountering Sorrow"; the Xiang clan were also descendants of the Mi surname, offspring of the High God Gaoyang, the bloodline of Zhurong flowing in their veins. In Chu, they had been hereditary ministers whom everyone had to respect; after entering Qin, they were merely black-headed commoners…

Their social standing was even lower than that of ordinary Qin farmers who wore no caps or sashes and scrabbled for food in the earth!

What Xiang Liang did not tell Xiang Zhuang was that hidden inside the belly of this wind-dried green-head was a full catty of gold!

The esteemed person they were visiting lived in a hamlet. The hamlet gatekeeper, seeing their Chu-style attire, immediately grew wary and barked at the uncle and nephew to produce their travel permits, state their reason for coming, and register it on a wooden tablet before he let them enter.

It was said that in Qin, every hamlet was this strict, but Xiang Liang thought otherwise. The Qin people were drunk on the victory of unifying the realm, enjoying the wealth plundered from the six states, and were growing laxer by the day. Places that had once been impenetrable could now admit the point of a needle…

At the rear gate of a tall-gated, large-courtyard residence, Xiang Liang straightened his clothes and cap, stepped forward, and knocked himself. Soon the gate opened, and a servant in black clothing poked his head out. Seeing it was Xiang Liang, he broke into a smile. When the gate was fully open and he saw Xiang Zhuang following behind, he could not help cursing, "Coming by yourself is fine — why bring a whelp along!"

Xiang Liang, for his part, could bend and stretch; he smiled and said, "Brought him to broaden his horizons," while at the same time slipping a small pouch of coins into the servant's palm.

The servant weighed it in his hand, then smiled again and said, "Come in quickly, and keep quiet."

Xiang Zhuang, though silent, took it all in. He only felt that this household was far too rude — in Chu, the host would personally come to the main gate to welcome guests…

He did not know that on Xiang Liang's first visit, he had been cold-shouldered for an entire hour. This time, with enough money spent, the servant led them directly to the study.

A woman in her early forties, heavily made up and garishly dressed, wearing the vermilion robes of the nobility, sat behind a low table, chatting and laughing with her handsome household steward, their manner intimate…

"Madam Wei!" Xiang Liang, his face wreathed in smiles, asked the servant to hand over the weighty green-headed wild duck on his behalf, while he pulled Xiang Zhuang down to kneel in obeisance by the door.

"So it is Lord Xiang who has come."

The middle-aged woman withdrew her hand from the steward's grasp, adjusted her collar, and upon seeing it was Xiang Liang, her eyes flicked back toward the steward.

The steward hefted the green-headed duck slightly, knew it contained a sufficient weight of gold, and nodded toward his mistress.

Only then did the woman show a smile, have a servant set out seats, and half-rise to salute, saying, "Lord Xiang was a benefactor to my late husband — why such excessive courtesy?"

This woman was called "Madam Wei"; she was the wife of Wei Jiu, a son of a concubine of Wei Zhuang, the Right Chancellor of Qin.

Wei Zhuang was a man of Chu who had entered Qin alone in his early years, leaving his son and daughter-in-law behind in Chu, where they fared miserably. Xiang Liang was a man who delighted in gallantry and made friends widely; he had aided Wei Jiu generously, taking him on as a retainer, and only then could Madam Wei have fish and meat at every meal.

Several years ago, Wei Zhuang rose to prominence, replacing Lord Changping as Right Chancellor. Wei Jiu then brought his wife into Qin to enjoy wealth and honor, but fell ill and died in Xianyang. After losing his son, Wei Zhuang did not mistreat his widowed daughter-in-law; he set her up with a large residence in Yueyang, and she lived a life of plenty.

Madam Wei was a woman who knew how to manage affairs, and she quickly became a noblewoman no one in Yueyang dared provoke. People often came to her to inquire about court news and official appointments and dismissals…

The two had not been in contact for many years; when they met again, the positions of host and guest had reversed.

Xiang Liang felt no resentment — his family's ability to settle in Yueyang was largely thanks to Madam Wei's help.

Madam Wei looked at Xiang Zhuang and said, "Is this your son?"

"He is my nephew." Xiang Liang glanced at the silent Xiang Zhuang. "His name is Xiang Ji, the eldest son of my elder brother. Madam met him back then."

"He has grown so big." Madam Wei sighed with emotion, but did not recognize that this was an impostor.

Xiang Liang felt greatly reassured. Madam Wei was the only person in Guanzhong who had met Xiang Ji; if even she did not see through it, then the matter was safe.

No one strikes a smiling face. Lady Wei was most courteous to someone bringing her money. She had servants serve hot broth and even brought out a plate of reddish-brown sugar lumps.

Beaming with delight, she introduced them: "This is the very last batch of brown sugar on the market this year. It's gone from five hundred coins per jun to a thousand coins per jun. Though physicians say it has blood-nourishing properties, it's still outrageously expensive — why don't they just rob us outright? I hear the new brown sugar won't reach Guanzhong until after the start of spring at the earliest…"

What sounded like complaints was in truth a boast — flaunting that her household had special channels to obtain brown sugar that had sold out months ago in Xianyang's South Market. She also urged Xiang Zhuang not to stand on ceremony and to have a taste.

"I have been in Guanzhong for many years now, yet I still remember when my late husband and I were in Huainan and drank the sugarcane juice sent by you, Lord Xiang. That flavor — truly unforgettable… They say this brown sugar is shipped from Nan Commandery, made not with malt but with wild sugarcane from the edge of Cloud Dream Marsh. Nan Commandery is also Western Chu land. Eating this brown sugar, it really does carry the taste of wild sugarcane — a flavor of home. Come, young lord, do try some!"

Xiang Zhuang looked to Xiang Liang. Seeing his uncle nod in approval, he picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. It was cloyingly sweet, far surpassing citrus fruit, and indeed carried a familiar sugarcane taste…

This was a flavor from Jing-Chu, a flavor belonging to the southern sun. Before Chu fell, he and Xiang Ji and several other brothers had drunk sugarcane juice in merry laughter — those memories now surfaced before his eyes, plunging him into an inexplicable melancholy. The honeyed sugar on his tongue seemed to turn bitter.

Lady Wei was still flaunting how well-informed she was. She told Xiang Liang that this commodity had already caught the eye of Wu Shi Luo, who had ordered several thousand jin to take as trade goods next spring to the lands of the Di, Qiang, and Yuezhi west of Lintao…

Xiang Liang nodded repeatedly and began probing about the sugar's place of origin and market price. An idea was even taking shape in his mind.

"Brown sugar is worth its weight in metal in Guanzhong, especially prized by wealthy households. Huainan and Jiangdong also have plenty of sweet sugarcane, and the cane in the Chu royal gardens at Shouchun is especially sweet and delicious. If we could have our family merchants work out the production method and plant it in Eastern Chu and Southern Chu, it might well become a new source of wealth for our house!"

Lady Wei, however, saw through Xiang Liang's thoughts and laughed. "Lord Xiang, you had best abandon that notion. I've heard that half a year ago, when brown sugar first reached Xianyang, Left Chief of the Masses Mai and Fifth Grandee Shi of the South Market, resentful that it was squeezing out their market stalls, jointly instructed their subordinate merchants to make trouble and bring charges against the brown sugar peddlers — only to end up thoroughly humiliated!"

"Oh? Could it be that the brown sugar merchants have powerful backing?" Xiang Liang had spent years in the jianghu and was also familiar with officialdom. He understood that this meant the true owner of the brown sugar was someone of considerable stature.

"The brown sugar is sold under the name of an old woman of unknown surname from Anlu County in Nan Commandery. Just as the Widow Qing is called the Cinnabar Widow, the merchants behind her back all call her the Sugar Crone."

"But does Lord Xiang know who this Sugar Crone's son is?"

Xiang Liang adopted a most deferential posture, cupping his hands. "I beg Lady Wei to enlighten me."

Lady Wei picked up another object from the table — a pale yellow thin sheet, neither silk nor cloth, covered in writing.

This was a new thing that had appeared in Guanzhong the previous month. The First Emperor had ordered the Interior Minister to trial it in each county, and now it had flown beyond Xianyang and spread throughout the capital region's counties. It was a sensation that had stirred the times, and Xiang Liang had naturally heard of it as well.

His expression shifted slightly. "Heifu paper — is it Right Chief of the Masses Heifu?"

(End of Chapter)