In the third year of Feng Wuzheng's captivity in Qin, he was eighteen—still a youth not yet of age.
One day, while idly sitting in his guesthouse in Xianyang, he heard a knock at the door. It was Grand Tutor Feng Zhong leading an envoy from the Kingdom of Feng to see him. The envoy had come to pay homage to King Ying Yiren of Qin and took the opportunity to visit the crown prince of his own kingdom, who was held hostage there. Wuzheng hurriedly invited them in. After all three parties were seated, the envoy produced a letter from Wuzheng's birth mother, Queen Consort Han:
"My son, are you well in Qin? Since you left our homeland, your grandmother and I have not a single day passed without missing you. Yet in this age of great strife, though we long to be together, how could that be possible? That you have become heir apparent and may serve your country well is a great blessing. You must remain steadfast in your duty and harbor no resentment.
Lately, I often dream of you standing in the Qin palace, drenched in sweat, trembling with fear as if facing imminent disaster. Upon waking, I shared this with your grandmother, and we wept together, our hearts heavy with worry. We can only observe strict fasting and prayer for your well-being, hoping the heavens will protect you.My son, while in Qin, must be exceptionally cautious. Maintain purity and restraint, practice self-discipline to avoid calamity. Qin's laws are severe—do not transgress them. The King of Qin is unmerciful—do not provoke him. Beyond state affairs, engage in no disputes. Diligently study and practice, never neglecting either literary or martial arts. Grand Tutor Feng Zhong comes from generations of ministers and chancellors; treat him as your father. Consult him on all matters before acting.
The people of the Wind Palace are well; do not worry about them.
May my son not betray his mother's teachings. We shall surely meet again in years to come."
Though the ink remains on silk, her words still ring in my ears. Wu Zheng recognized his mother's handwriting and burst into tears upon reading it. After a long while, he composed himself, immediately wrote a reply letter pouring out his longing for her, and entrusted it to the messenger to carry back. The messenger then produced another object, saying it was entrusted by the lady to be given to Wu Zheng.The object gleamed like frosted snow, exquisitely carved and translucent, shaped like a water droplet and slightly larger than a fist—a brilliantly luminous jade disc. Grand Tutor Feng Zhong, upon seeing it, asked the messenger:
"Where did the lady obtain such exquisite jade?"
The messenger replied, "I was instructed to deliver it. I know nothing more."
Feng Zhong pressed no further. After exchanging pleasantries, they saw the messenger off. Once alone in the study, Feng Wuzheng examined the jade disc closely. It was truly flawless, radiating a warm, luminous glow. Its shape was extraordinary—smooth as an egg, utterly devoid of any edges or corners, as if naturally formed rather than carved.He could not put it down, but his teacher's brows furrowed deeply. Seeing this, he quickly composed himself and asked:
"Master, you seem troubled?"
"The Queen's letter made no mention of this jade. I fear something is amiss. If it was not a gift from Her Majesty, keeping it could bring unforeseen fortune or misfortune."
"My mother, mindful of my solitary life abroad and my lack of funds, likely intended this as a provision for emergencies. Perhaps she simply forgot to mention it in her letter. What harm could there be in keeping it?"
"Not so. As the saying goes: 'The ointment perishes with the fragrance, the musk with the navel.' And again: 'The common man bears no guilt, but to possess a jade brings guilt.'Your Highness now resides in a foreign land, serving under others, yet you possess this rare treasure. This is a path to disaster. Should the princes and ministers of Qin hear of it and demand it, how will Your Highness respond? Whomever you grant it to, you will inevitably offend the others. In my humble opinion, this is yet another scheme of Lady Tian."
Upon hearing his teacher mention his concubine mother, Wuzheng felt a tightening in his chest and a chill run down his spine.Lady Tian, in the prime of her youth and backed by her powerful maternal clan, enjoyed the King's exclusive favor. She sought to depose Wuzheng as heir and install her son, Feng Ke, in his place. Yet Wuzheng had committed no wrong, and Feng Ke was still a babbler, leaving the King hesitant. But Lady Tian constantly stirred trouble, making Wuzheng feel like thorns in his back. He had no choice but to submit to Qin, ostensibly as a hostage, but truly to escape disaster.Yet even from a thousand miles away, Lady Tian remained determined to eliminate him. In his three years in Qin, he had already faced mortal peril twice. First, rumors spread that in winter, a sudden southeast wind had blown down the plaque bearing the name of the Great Zheng Palace in Yongcheng, the former capital of Qin. "Feng" referred to the Kingdom of Feng, located southeast of Qin. This implied that Wuzheng would bring harm to Qin, aiming to make King Feng suspect and kill him.Then, a persuasive orator entered the Kingdom of Feng, persuading the King to unite forces with other states to attack Qin. This was a scheme to use the Qin King's hand to kill the hostage Prince Wuzheng. The reason he had survived unscathed both times was entirely due to Grand Tutor Feng Zhong's meticulous planning and diplomatic maneuvering. Now, with the third calamity approaching, Prince Wuzheng felt utterly despondent.
"Given this, we rely entirely on your judgment, sir."
"I hear the Crown Prince of Qin, Ying Zheng, is young and fond of rare treasures. My lord could privately present this white jade to him, keeping it secret from others. If no one knows, no conflict will arise, and you may also cultivate an alliance with the heir apparent to secure your position—achieving two goals with one move."
Wu Zheng, being a youth himself, naturally cherished rare treasures. Though his heart ached at parting with it, he recalled his mother's admonitions in her letter. With no other choice, he presented the precious jade to Ying Zheng, who was overjoyed.
At that time, the Qin state was powerful and domineering, with many feudal lords sending their sons as hostages to Qin. The princes, being of similar age, often socialized with one another. Half a year later, one day, Ying Zheng hosted a banquet for his guests in the East Palace. As the wine flowed freely and spirits were high, guards carried a wooden cage into the courtyard. Ying Zheng then led everyone outside to see it.As the cloth covering was removed, a creature with a human face and bird's body emerged from the cage. While everyone was still in astonishment, Ying Zheng spoke:
"Last summer, our Qin forces conquered the lands of Dian and Qian to the south, expanding our territory by five hundred li. During the campaign, we engaged in battle with the Feathered People. These warriors bore wings upon their backs, causing great astonishment among our soldiers. Alas, we were unable to capture even a single one alive—a profound regret.Fortunately, several months ago, I happened to acquire a white jade disc. Though it appeared to be a fine piece of jade, it was actually the egg of a Feathered Man. Within ten days, it hatched into a Feathered Man. Is this not a sign of Heaven's blessing upon the Qin state? Now that it has grown to maturity, I have specially invited you all to witness this marvelous creature!"
Feng Wuzheng stared wide-eyed at the winged being in the cage, unable to recover for a long moment.The Feathered Being was about the size of a three- or four-year-old child, seemingly a boy. Aside from the wings on its back, it was indistinguishable from a human. The child huddled in the cage, its right foot shackled. Its arms wrapped around its knees, its head buried within its arms, only a pair of eyes peered out, trembling as it watched the outside world.
Wu Zheng felt a sharp pang in his nose and wanted to plead with the Crown Prince of Qin. Before he could speak, a guard picked up a thick hemp rope, as thick as an iron pestle, tied one end to a stone block in front of the hall, and the other to the winged child's shackles. Then, he opened the cage and released the child.The bird, seeing the blue sky, immediately lunged forward, only to be pulled back by its shackles. It could only circle the courtyard, chirping plaintively as it flew. Ying Zheng clapped his hands and laughed heartily. Some of the princes joined in, while others remained silent.Wu Zheng dared not look at the tiny form in the sky, staring instead at the shadow tracing circles on the ground. The relentless chirping weighed heavily upon him, making it impossible to lift his head.
Then blood began to fall from the sky. One drop, two drops, gradually sketching a sparse circle—the feathered child had flown too fiercely, only to be yanked back by the rope, tearing open a wound at the base of his right leg. Yet he still flapped his wings toward the sky, stretching the hemp rope taut.
From that day onward, Wuzheng was haunted by nightmares. In them, a feathered child confronted him, demanding why he had given the egg to the Crown Prince of Qin. Even after waking, the figure lingered in his vision, like the lingering glow in one's eyes after staring into flames—present whether his eyes were open or closed.He would suddenly recall it during meals or daily routines, his mind drifting while reading or practicing swordsmanship. From then on, he could no longer focus on any task, slowly wasting away until his face grew sallow and gaunt like that of a jaundiced man.
Grand Tutor Feng Zhong gradually noticed the disturbance. One day during a lecture, seeing Wuzheng's restless spirit, he sat upright and bowed deeply. Wuzheng, who had been holding a scroll and half-listening, hurriedly helped him up. Feng Zhong said:
"Your servant is ignorant and lacking in learning. I failed to recognize the feathered man's egg, causing the young prince such distress. The blame rests squarely upon me. Yet this very ignorance reveals the cruelty of Lady Tian's scheme: she knew full well your tender heart would not bear to part with such a gift. If you gave it away, you would suffer inner torment; if you kept it, it would spark conflict.The situation has reached this point. Your Highness must not entertain the slightest thought of secretly releasing the feathered man. To offend Crown Prince Ying Zheng would inevitably bring great calamity. I implore Your Highness to prioritize the welfare of the Feng state and the trust placed in you by the Lady. Do not let petty kindness ruin the greater cause."
Stealing the feathered man? No, Feng Wuzheng dared not. Yet lately, his thoughts kept drifting from his body, floating toward Ying Zheng's Crown Prince's Eastern Palace. Relying on memory, he repeatedly studied the palace layout, pondering how to open the wooden cage, how to break the iron shackles, where the guards were stationed.Why dwell on such things? He didn't know. He couldn't possibly save that feathered man. Yet a vague notion lingered, like a half-hidden beehive in the trees—he knew he should keep his distance, that touching it would bring disaster, yet he couldn't resist the urge to poke at it.Now, his master had laid it out plainly, using the welfare of the state and the Empress Dowager to persuade him. It was like a raging fire that burned the hive and the forest clean, forcing him to declare, "I had no such intention whatsoever. Please rest assured, Master," and then banish the thought entirely.
Yet two months later, at dawn, Qin soldiers stormed his residence and seized him for the Eastern Palace. He knew why, yet felt neither joy nor fear. Days prior, during a banquet there, he'd slipped away to the lavatory and used his sword to partially sever the hemp rope binding him to a stone block. Just before that, Ying Zheng had casually remarked:The feathered man is growing up; it's time to replace the hemp rope with iron chains." Those words seemed to cast a poisonous spell on Feng Wuzheng. The thought he had already dismissed suddenly reignited, crowding out everything else from his mind. After leaving the lavatory, he headed straight for the cage. Covered in black cloth, he couldn't see inside, but he knew the feathered man must be there.He located the rope tied to the back of the stone pedestal, pinched a section, and severed the outer layer, leaving only the central strand intact. After tidying the cut end and sheathing his bronze sword, he rose—only to meet a pair of eyes: the Feathered One had peeled back a corner of the covering cloth and was staring at him with eyes like black chess pieces.
Next time the cage door opens, you'd better flap your wings hard!
Just as he reached to pull the black cloth back over the cage, the small hand inside jerked back in fright. He had already equated the Birdman with himself—wasn't Xianyang City his cage too? If the Birdman escaped, so would he.
On the way to the Eastern Palace, escorted by Qin soldiers, he imagined the empty cage and the hemp rope snapped in two on the stone block. Surprisingly, his heart was filled with joy.When Ying Zheng questioned him later, he would confess clearly and completely, without shifting blame or implicating others. He would emulate the ancient heroes, refusing to let the Qin people look down upon the Kingdom of Feng. His resolve was firm, his courage bolstered.
Stepping through the gates of the Eastern Palace, he discovered he was not the only one brought here. Princes from all the states had gathered, standing in a row below the palace steps, each with bowed heads and dejected expressions.Guards flanked the palace entrance in two rows, hands gripping their swords. Each bore a fierce, unyielding expression, their faces as hard as stone. Witnessing this imposing display, Wuzheng's earlier resolve evaporated. He tiptoed to the far left of the assembled princes and stood silently. From the high platform, Ying Zheng began to speak:
Yesterday, I released my feathered companion to play, but unexpectedly the reins snapped. The creature flew away and did not return.What crime have I committed to suffer such misfortune? I cherished this rare creature, only to lose it once more. I ordered the guards to examine it closely. The break in the rope appears to bear cut marks—I know not who could have done this. You are all frequent guests of the Eastern Palace. Should any of you discern the slightest clue, Ying Zheng would be profoundly grateful."
Wu Zheng's heart tightened like a taut bowstring, his insides twisted into knots. He stole glances at the other princes, only to find them exchanging furtive looks among themselves—yet none spoke. Thankfully, none accused him.Ying Zheng's words from the day before had served as a curtain, concealing his cowardice. Now that curtain had been drawn back, exposing his true nature starkly. He had no desire to confess now; he only wished to muddle through. Since Ying Zheng had no leads, if he clenched his teeth and endured, the matter would likely be dropped.
Seeing no response, Ying Zheng returned to the palace hall to rest. The crowd stood frozen, some turning to leave only to halt at the sight of the two rows of guards facing them. They hesitated, waiting for others to depart first, but no one moved. In the end, everyone remained where they stood.Feng Wuzheng had stood from dawn until noon, without a drop of water or a morsel of food. The summer sun climbed higher, the heat intensifying around him. His throat was parched, his clothes soaked through with sweat.
After Ying Zheng finished his midday meal, he emerged once more to observe this flock of chickens and ducks with their necks stretched out in guilt. Seeing still no one confessing, he ordered the guards to bring all the attendants from the Eastern Palace to this spot. He selected three of them, had them bound to the pillars by the wall, and declared:
"Since none of you guests know anything, it must be someone within my palace who stole while on guard duty."
He then instructed the guards:
"Fifty lashes each. If none confess after this, begin anew with another fifty until someone admits guilt."
The sharp crack of whips soon echoed through the palace. From afternoon until sunset, batches of prisoners replaced one another at the pillars, their agonized cries growing ever more wretched. Blood pooled on the ground, flesh flaked off, and with each lash of the whip, Wuzheng's heart wrenched in pain.His legs began to tremble, nearly giving way beneath him. His inner robe was soaked through, the scorching sweat now cold with terror, dripping steadily onto the floor. This was all his fault. He should have stepped forward to bear the blame alone, but the lashes had shattered his backbone.He recalled the dream described in his mother's letter: "Standing in the Qin palace, drenched in sweat, trembling with fear, as if enduring lashes myself." He remembered Grand Tutor Feng Zhong's earnest admonitions. The resolve not to bring calamity upon the Feng Kingdom, long buried in some recess of his heart, surfaced once more.
Under the blazing sun, the heat was suffocating. Among the princes, some fainted, some vomited, and some gritted their teeth, urging the lawbreaker to confess quickly. At that moment, a servant bound to a wooden pillar gasped for air, summoning his last ounce of strength to roar:
"Which traitorous scoundrel dared commit this crime yet lacks the courage to own it, dragging innocent men into ruin!"
Feng Wuzheng watched the man's head loll to one side as life left him. Finally, he burst into tears, his body slowly collapsing. The whipping ceased, leaving only his sobs echoing through the palace grounds. Ying Zheng emerged from the hall and asked:
"Young Master Feng Wuzheng, was it you who secretly released the feathered men?"
Ying Zheng wasn't truly inquiring, and Feng Wuzheng offered no reply. He watched as the shadows of two guards approached from the ground. Four iron-clawed hands seized his shoulders and back, binding him tightly. The ropes dug viciously into his joints. Then he was yanked upward, forced to his feet, and escorted out of the palace.
Just then, a commotion erupted at the palace gates—someone seemed to be forcing their way in. It was a middle-aged man, bound and gagged like Wu Zheng, with a noose around his neck.The gate guards attempted to stop him, only to be knocked to the ground by the force of his charge. Shouting wildly, he raced toward the main hall. The figure in Wu Zheng's vision was distorted by the heat haze, like a reflection in rippling water—blurred and indistinct. Yet the words from the man's mouth drifted slowly toward him.He suddenly made out the words "The Guilty Minister Feng Zhong," then froze in place as if struck by lightning. He stood there, not daring to lift his gaze, even as Feng Zhong passed him, halted the escorting guards, and knelt before Ying Zheng's dais. Behind him came a resonant voice:
"Grand Tutor Feng Zhong of Feng State binds himself and begs death! The young master acted recklessly, offending Your Highness, and truly deserves no pardon. Yet the heir apparent must not be punished. In the past, when Lord Shang established the law, Crown Prince Si violated it, yet the punishment fell upon the Grand Tutor—this is the principle.Though the Feng Kingdom is small, it is descended from the bloodline of Taihao. Moreover, it has served the Qin Kingdom with utmost obedience. I beseech Your Highness to follow precedent and transfer the punishment to me. Even if the axe falls upon my head, dare I utter a single word of complaint?"
Wuzheng heard every word clearly. Recalling how his master had entrusted him just days before, and how he himself had pledged his loyalty, tears streamed down his face like rain.
...
At thirty-five, Feng Wuzheng bathed in the guest quarters of Xianyang. Hot water massaged his body as steam permeated his lungs. Closing his eyes, he recalled events from his eighteenth year, his face flushing crimson with shame.He still remembered his teacher's back, stained with blood—kneeling by the bedside, he had applied medicinal ointment to his master's wounds, silently vowing never again to betray his teacher's trust. Yet seven years later, when stripped of his succession, he had disregarded the Grand Tutor's counsel and fled Xianyang like a reckless youth.He wished he had entered Qin at his current age. Then, many things would have been different: he might have married a woman from the Qin royal family; he might have borrowed Qin's army to return home and claim the throne; he might have stormed Fengdu, killed his younger half-brother, and forced his father to abdicate; perhaps his mother would still be alive.Then, he should now be seated upon the throne of Fengguo, with ministers and generals standing before him, led by the Prime Minister Feng Zhong.
He hated his past self, and in his anguish, he struck the surface of the bathwater with his palm, causing the sword wound on his left shoulder to throb with renewed pain.Though the wound had healed, the scab had not yet fallen away. Since entering Xianyang, he had carefully concealed it—for he had entered the Qin capital bearing Feng's imperial banner, never passing through Jiangcheng, never meeting Deng Lingzi, and never engaging Qin forces in battle.
Today marks the final day of his ritual purification and fasting. Tomorrow he will enter the Qin palace to meet the King of Qin. When he first arrived in Xianyang, Ying Zheng was personally commanding the front lines in the campaign to subjugate the Western Zhou Kingdom, so he waited at the official residence.Later, a Qin minister informed him that the rites for accepting his surrender had been finalized. The audience would not take place in the main hall, but in the adjacent ancestral temple to the west. Since the ancestral temple housed the spirit tablets of Qin's forebears, he must first undergo ten days of fasting and purification.Why the Ancestral Temple? He did not know. It was not the customary place for receiving envoys, but this seemed an act of intimacy, perhaps born of his ten-year acquaintance with Ying Zheng.Years earlier, after he had secretly released the Feathered Man, the Grand Tutor had sent envoys to persuade the Qin court. They argued that Qin was in the midst of conquering Wei and should not antagonize Feng; moreover, since the Feathered Man had been a gift from Wuzheng, his merit somewhat offset his fault, warranting no severe punishment. Thus Feng Zhong received only flogging, sparing him the more gruesome penalties of nose-cutting and foot-amputation.Afterward, though Wu Zheng harbored both fear and resentment toward Ying Zheng, he strictly followed his teacher's guidance, daring not to reveal a shred of his feelings. Instead, he grew ever more deferential, frequently accompanying the prince at banquets and hunts, appearing as if no discord had ever existed. This earned Feng a decade of peace, untouched by Qin's invasions.
Over the past five days, he ventured beyond his quarters during his fasting period to take in the sights of Xianyang.
On the first day, he strolled along the city's main thoroughfares. He saw the Wei River flowing westward through the city, with Xianyang Palace to its north and Zhangtai Palace to its south.Each time the Qin King conquered a state, he replicated its architectural style to build new palaces. Having subjugated three states thus far, the northern bank now stood densely packed with palaces. Connected by elevated walkways and sky bridges, they rose in staggered tiers like curtains or canopies, obscuring the distant mountains. Spaces remained open at both ends, reserved for the palaces of the remaining five states.To the east lay Mount Li, its slopes veiled in haze as dust rose a hundred zhang high—the site of Ying Zheng's royal tomb. Construction began upon his ascension, employing hundreds of thousands of convicts from conquered states, and only ceased upon his death.Wu Zheng suddenly thought of Hu Yan. His gaze shifted slightly southward, where a massive mound of earth came into view—the site where Hu Yan had served three years as a convict laborer, the tomb of Ying Yiren. If the previous king's resting place was so grand, how many times more magnificent must Ying Zheng's final abode be? And how many Hu Yans were toiling there, wearing themselves out, grinding away their bones?
The next day, he began conversing with the common people. Ying Zheng had relocated all the wealthy families of the Three Jin states to Xianyang, so the city's population was even more prosperous than it had been a decade earlier.North-south thoroughfares and east-west highways saw carriages rolling along ruts a full inch deep. Pedestrians bustled along the streets, jugs clutched, baskets hoisted, shoulders laden, hands pushing, a ceaseless stream of movement. On either side, pavilions stood with brightly lacquered tiles, windows and doors immaculate, not a speck of dust in sight—though still not quite matching the grandeur of Linzi, the capital of Qi, it already possessed the air of a great nation.Yet the city remained as quiet as it had been a decade earlier: no poetry recitations or string music drifted from eateries; no bawling or hawking enlivened the markets; and games like dice, cockfighting, horse racing, or cuju were nowhere to be seen.People went about their business in silence, never conversing, only occasionally exchanging meaningful glances. Across the vast expanse of Xianyang, the only sounds were the rustling of footsteps and the rumble of wheels.
He walked through the marketplace and arrived at the residential district where commoners lived.The dwellings were all enclosed by high walls, with a single door facing the street. Each door bore an iron lock, and beside it was nailed a wooden plaque inscribed with the resident's name, rank, and place of origin. He walked from one neighborhood to the next, scanning the inscriptions on the plaques as he went, seeking someone originally from Jiangcheng in the former state of Zhao. He wished to inquire about the city's current state and the fate of Denglingzi.After traversing several streets and alleys, he indeed found one. He knocked lightly on the gate, and the door creaked open a crack. In the dim light, an eye peered out. Before Wu Zheng could finish explaining his purpose, several Qin citizens suddenly leaped out from both sides, bound him with ropes, and dragged him away.Delivered to the magistrate's office, he learned he'd been mistaken for a spy from the Eastern Passes—Qin citizens were too busy farming and fighting to loiter the streets. If not a spy, what else could he be? Qin law offered rewards for reporting spies equal to those for beheading enemies. Unfortunately, he revealed his envoy status, dashing the hopes of Qin citizens who'd hoped to trade his head for a noble title.
On the third and fourth days, the city's usual quiet gave way to two days of uproar. First, the severed limbs of a dozen men were hung on a high platform in the city center. An official stood atop it, declaring to the gathered elders below:
"The Queen's brother, Lord Changping, rebelled. His entire clan has been exterminated, and his body torn apart by chariot to be displayed to the people."
Blood dripped like rain from the poles onto the ground. The crowd, accustomed to such sights, soon dispersed.
The next day, the eastern city gate swung wide open. Citizens lined the streets, craning their necks to watch. A grand procession entered: Qin soldiers marched boldly ahead, clearing the way; behind them walked King Ji Yan of Zhou, his hands bound behind his back, his upper body bare, hair disheveled, walking like a lost soul;behind them were the civil and military officials of Zhou, herded together like cattle by Qin soldiers, crammed into a tight mass. Qin had conquered Zhou. The Zhou king had personally come to Xianyang to surrender his kingdom. Following precedent, the ancestral temples were destroyed, he was stripped of his royal status and demoted to commoner, and exiled to another region.The Qin people no longer exchanged glances on the road; smiles finally graced their faces. Wu Zheng stood amidst the crowd, murmurs of conversation drifting from all directions, yet he could not discern who spoke. Looking closely, he realized the conversers seemed to speak with ventriloquism—their lips barely moved, and they did not look at one another.Words fluttered through the air like mayflies—leaping from one mouth to another, entering one ear and escaping another. Even if someone uttered words that broke the law, no bystander could report them, and the authorities had no way to arrest them. He couldn't help but be impressed by the wisdom of the Qin people. Holding his breath and straining his ears, Wuzheng finally caught a word or two. One person said:
"Hah! Our great king is unmatched under heaven! Sooner or later, he'll slaughter every last pig and dog in Guandong, seize all their lands and wealth, and distribute it to us Qin people. Then every Qin man will be a marquis or noble, owning a hundred acres of fertile fields and a thousand servants!"
Another replied:
"That goes without saying! Once the realm is unified, there will be no more wars for all eternity. The laws will surely grow less harsh, and taxes and corvée labor will be greatly reduced. Then we'll live in abundance and joy, enjoying leisurely days. The best is yet to come—being Qin people is truly blessed!"
Though faint, their voices carried a heroic resonance—a stark contrast to their usual numb indifference, as different as ice and fire.
After the procession passed, the Qin official stood once more upon the high platform and proclaimed: "The Zhou dynasty, which has endured for eight hundred years, has now been replaced by Qin. Let the entire realm celebrate with three days of great revelry!"
The Great Feast was a gathering for drinking. Qin law prohibited alcohol; brewing or selling it was a crime. Drinking was only permitted during the Great Feast. Thus, as soon as the Qin official finished speaking, the people cheered and leaped for joy, dancing and clapping their hands. Soon after, the government brought out wine jars. People rushed forward, scooping from pitchers and ladling from bowls, drinking freely and merrily.Wu Zheng was observing a fast and abstained from alcohol, yet the intoxicating aroma still affected him. He heard children clapping their hands and chanting a prophecy: "When the barbarians come, the people of Chun perish." He did not understand its meaning.In the streets, the rich aroma of fermented liquor mingled with the blood-soaked stench of corpses hung on tall poles, sending the Qin people into a daze. At last, the neighborhoods stirred with life.
On the fifth day, he remained indoors, sitting alone in the inn. He studied the population records and maps of the Feng Kingdom before closing his eyes to meditate. The events of his journey had overwhelmed him, but now he finally had time for quiet reflection. Matters once unclear now became crystal clear. At sunrise tomorrow, his old friend Ying Zheng would await him in the Grand Temple of the Qin Palace. He, too, would reach the end of his life.