A Name Accepted
Zane had no choice but to accept his new name. If his newfound father insisted on Ying Taiyi, then so be it. The name, with its connotations of Eastern Emperor Taiyi, a supreme deity of the rival State of Chu, was certainly ambitious. It was a clear power move by Ying Zichu, a public declaration of his son's divine status. But for Zane, it was simply a name, another piece of this bizarre new reality he was navigating. He was now Ying Taiyi, and his strange journey continued.
While the father and son duo were in their palace, news of the new farming tools had spread beyond Qin's borders. Spies from the other six Warring States—Qi, Chu, Yan, Han, Zhao, and Wei—as well as smaller states, witnessed the miracle of the waterwheel and the Qu Yuan Plow. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and admiration. "Someone in Qin has actually invented such an object to aid farming?" they marveled. This was not a weapon of war but an instrument of prosperity, a tool that could revolutionize agriculture and bring unimaginable wealth and power to a kingdom.
The spies immediately sent messages back to their respective kings. The news spread like wildfire. The kings and their ministers were astonished by the reports. "Who invented these things? Such great talent!" they exclaimed. Their focus quickly shifted from the tools themselves to the person who created them. Such a genius was a resource far more valuable than any invention. They were consumed by a thirst for talent, believing that a genius who could create such beneficial tools must be theirs. They were certain this individual was a Great Grandmaster from one of the Hundred Schools of Thought, and they launched a frantic search to find him.
The King-to-be in Handan
In Handan, the capital of the Zhao state, a beautiful woman held a young boy close. The woman, Zhao Ji, was filled with a deep resentment. She and her son, Ying Zheng, had been left behind by Ying Yiren (Ying Zichu), who had fled Zhao with Lu Buwei. For years, they had lived a life of hardship, monitored by the Zhao nobles and facing constant bullying. She had hoped that Ying Yiren would return for them, but her hope was slowly turning to bitter disappointment. The recent rumors from Qin, speaking of Ying Yiren's new son, a "Heavenly God" no less, felt like a deliberate insult. She believed Ying Yiren had abandoned them and was now lavishing attention on this new child.
"Zheng'er, it seems your father no longer wants us," she whispered, her voice filled with a burning hatred. "Everything your father owns is yours. You must not let that fellow snatch your things! You must prove to your father that you are the most outstanding, not that little child rumored to be a Heavenly God! You must make him regret it!"
The young Ying Zheng, seemingly innocent, nodded, as if he had taken his mother's words to heart. But the moment his head was bowed, his eyes became incredibly deep and majestic, far older than a child of his age. "Heavenly God?" he thought to himself. "Ying Chengjiao?" He knew his father only had one other child, Ying Chengjiao. He was unsure of the rumors but assumed they were a result of his own resurrection. His memory had stopped at Shaqiu, where he had been gravely ill. He had died, but for some unknown reason, he had been resurrected in his childhood.
He scoffed at the "Heavenly God" rumor. No matter what that child was, the throne of Qin would be his. He recalled his previous life, his obsessive and failed quest for immortality. He had died in Shaqiu, and in his last moments, he had believed that his son Fusu, with the help of Meng Tian, would stabilize the empire. He was confident in his past choices. But now, with a second chance, his desire for immortality was even stronger. "I wonder when I will be able to see a true Immortal," he sighed inwardly, his eyes filled with a longing that transcended his young body. He knew he had six years before he could return to Qin, and he was filled with both excitement and anticipation.
The Great Grandmaster
Three months passed in the blink of an eye. In the early morning, the sun's first rays shone into the palace hall, and Zane slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was indifferent, emotionless, selfless, and egoless. He was no longer a person but an extension of the heavens, a being in unity with the Dao. An indescribable aura radiated from him.
Abundant Qi flowed through his limbs, his entire body filled with a powerful energy that circulated continuously along his meridians, forming a great cycle. According to the ancient bamboo slips, he had now reached the Great Grandmaster realm, a level of power that only a select few, like Guiguzi and Zhuangzi, could attain. He, a boy, had accomplished in months what others could never achieve in a lifetime.
His detached gaze slowly returned to normal. A small, almost imperceptible frown formed on his face. "Great Grandmaster, it doesn't seem that difficult?" he thought to himself. The texts had described a Great Grandmaster as a being who could contend with hundreds of armored soldiers, but he found this level of power incredibly weak. An army could easily kill him. He still had to reach the realm of the Immortal Master, a being who could fly and control the wind. Only then would he be truly safe. He felt a profound sense of urgency. The dangerous political climate he was in demanded a higher level of power. He had to keep cultivating, to reach a realm where he was truly untouchable.