The improved brush, the paper, and the books were nothing short of a miracle. To the scholars and spies who had initially scoffed at Ying Zichu, the new inventions made the waterwheel seem like a simple trinket. "Who made these papers, books, and brushes?" they asked, their voices filled with a new-found awe. "He's worthy of being called a saint! Unbelievable!" They wondered if the inventor was the same person who had created the waterwheel, or someone else entirely.
The shop assistant, with a slight smile, answered their question. "These things were made by the little god of the Qin royal family," he said. "The little god saw that writing and recording were difficult in the world and, taking pity on the people of Qin, invented these things."
Xunzi, Li Si, and the others were stunned into silence. If they had heard these words before, they would have dismissed them as a pathetic attempt at a marketing ploy. But after seeing the miraculous nature of the new inventions, they were filled with doubt. Could a mere mortal truly create something so profound? Li Si, who had been so confident before, now murmured, "Could it be that there really are gods?" The spies from other countries were equally bewildered, their eyes wide with shock. How could such incredible inventions appear so frequently in the State of Qin? "Could it be that there really are gods in the Qin State?" they thought, their minds reeling.
Their internal struggles were interrupted by a sudden scream from outside the shop. Confused, they rushed out to see what was happening. They saw a large group of people being escorted by guards. The group, numbering several hundred, was dressed in strange clothes and had unfamiliar features. "Who are these people?" Li Si asked, bewildered. A vendor nearby whispered, "I heard that these people came from the distant foreign land of Sindhu to our Qin State's Xianyang in search of a noble saint, a great and supreme enlightened being, a god named Buddha!"
Li Si, Xunzi, and the others were dumbfounded. A god named Buddha? In Xianyang? And a group of hundreds of people had traveled all this way just to see him? They looked at the faces of the foreigners, filled with fanaticism and expectation, and a shiver of fear ran down their spines.
A King's Dilemma
At the same time, in the Qin Royal Palace, King Ying Ji and his ministers were in a state of shock. They had initially been dismissive of Ying Zichu's actions, but now, faced with the physical evidence of his latest inventions—paper, books, and brushes—they were left speechless. King Ying Ji stared at the items, his mind racing. He, a king, was not stupid. He instantly realized the immense importance of these things.
His gaze turned to Ying Zichu, a question burning in his eyes. He knew his grandson's capabilities, and he knew it was impossible for him to have invented such things. He asked, "Grandson, tell me the truth, did you really give birth to a divine child?" The ministers in the hall stared at Ying Zichu, waiting for his answer.
Ying Zichu hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. King Ying Ji and the ministers gasped, their faces a mix of disbelief and shock. "Is there really a god?" they thought. "Were things like the waterwheel and paper invented by gods?" If so, it made perfect sense. But they were still skeptical. The existence of gods had always been a rumor, a myth.
King Ying Ji, desperate for confirmation, asked, "Grandson, can I see him?" Ying Zichu hesitated. He wasn't sure if his divine son wanted to be seen. In his heart, his son's wishes were more important than the King's. As he hesitated, King Ying Ji's face began to show impatience. Just then, a guard rushed into the hall.
"Your Majesty, hundreds of foreigners have arrived outside Xianyang City!" the guard announced. The King and his ministers were astonished. "People from outside the realm?" the ministers whispered. "Why are there so many?" King Ying Ji frowned, recalling the earlier news. He asked the guard for their purpose.
When the guard explained that the foreigners were there to see a noble saint, a god named Buddha, the King and his ministers were left speechless. "Saint? Buddha..." King Ying Ji murmured. He and the ministers looked at each other in confusion. But then, a sudden thought struck them. Ying Zichu, too, had a guess. "Are these people from outside the domain coming for my son?" he thought, uncertainty and a new fear creeping into his heart.