Seeking Lord Pingyuan
The hostage life unfolded exactly as we had feared, without a single deviation. Zhao moved with shameless predictability, just as Han Jing and I had anticipated. "You brought your own supplies, so there's no need for further support, is there? We'll redirect this to military use, so handle things with the money you brought. If you truly can't manage, have your principal come in person." That was the gist of Zhao's message as they cut our aid once more. Among the Seven Warring States, Zhao held the greatest national power, yet the Qin hostage living on their soil received treatment so destitute it bordered on impossible. The Zhao officials puffed themselves up, claiming we should be grateful merely to receive any support at all. Their smug faces made my blood boil. If Han Jing hadn't held me back, I would have driven my fist straight into that arrogant, jiggling gut. Of course, a nine-year-old's punch wouldn't have done much damage to that heavyweight slab of flesh.
"Damn them. Now I understand why our own country always cursed the Zhao bastards."
"Well… it was our country that struck first from behind."
"No, my lord, you mustn't say such things! If we're keeping score, Zhao withdrew their troops earlier than promised during the campaign against Qi!"
In the Warring States era, no nation existed without grudges against another. That was the nature of this tiresome age, where alliances and wars twisted and tangled in endless cycles. Honestly, the fact that we could openly complain about our living conditions already meant we were faring better than most. The true commoners spent their days having their grain stolen by usurious merchants and tax-collecting gentry even after tilling the fields, only to be dragged off and killed or maimed when war broke out. Even in a parallel world, the Warring States period remained the Warring States period. If anything, it might have been even more horrific here, where women were also conscripted as soldiers. That meant far more deaths than in the world of my previous life, where only men were mobilized.
In an age like this, all I wanted was to live an ordinary life. I simply wished to uphold my own ethics and morals, nothing more. Even though I had been sent as a hostage, I held no resentment about being born the king's son. Had I been born the child of a commoner or a slave, I wouldn't be worrying about how to survive tomorrow—I would already be despairing that I might die today. Honestly, how could a modern person accustomed to material abundance and natural human rights in a twenty-first-century civilized nation possibly adapt overnight to the chaos of ancient warfare? Anyone who claimed they could was clearly not in their right mind.
In that sense, I harbored only modest hopes. I had no intention of championing universal equality or becoming a war hero whose name would echo through history. If I had any ambition at all, it was simply this: when I eventually became king of Yan, I would avoid becoming a tyrant, even if I could never be a sage ruler. Still, I felt a responsibility to look after my own people.
"Prepare to go out. I need to see the King of Zhao."
"Shall I call for Master Han?"
"No need. Just bring two attendants."
I had entrusted Han Jing with maintaining contact with our homeland in case of emergencies. I couldn't simply sit in my room and leave everything to him. With two attendants in tow, I made my way toward the royal palace in Handan.
"I request an audience with His Majesty."
"My apologies, but His Majesty the King is currently occupied with state affairs and cannot grant an audience."
The eunuch answered without even bothering to check inside, as if the response had been prepared in advance. His demeanor alone made it impossible not to doubt the truth of his words. I narrowed my eyes.
"Then I shall see the Chancellor instead. Lord Jianxin should be available."
The Chancellor—known in later times as the Prime Minister—was the highest-ranking official, standing above all other ministers. While the title "Prime Minister" could apply to other high officials as well, the Chancellor was the foremost among them. The reason the title later changed was due to an emperor who used "Bang" as part of his name: Liu Bang, the man of humble origins who founded a unified empire that encompassed all under heaven. Since the next era after the Warring States was the Chu-Han Contention, knowing when Liu Bang was born might allow for an accurate estimate of the timeline. His hometown was in Zhuo County, wasn't it? No, that was Liu Bei. Tch, I should have read more than just the Three Kingdoms—I should have studied the Chu-Han Contention and the Annals of the Warring States properly.
Even if I couldn't locate Liu Bang personally, sending someone to find him should have been possible. If his lifespan overlapped with mine, I could easily gain an extraordinary talent to entrust with the future—and with him would come Xiao He, the legendary minister from the same region. Unfortunately, I didn't even know whether Liu Bang's lifetime would intersect with my own. Right now, simply surviving took priority.
The man currently holding our leash was Zhao's Chancellor, Lord Jianxin. He had risen to the position through the king's favor thanks to his handsome appearance, and while he lacked exceptional ability himself, he performed the role adequately by heeding the advice of those around him. Because he actively welcomed the counsel of his retainers, people naturally flocked to him. In other words, Lord Jianxin was famous for meeting all manner of visitors without turning anyone away.
Yet the eunuch shook his head once more.
"My apologies, but the Chancellor is also occupied with state affairs and cannot receive guests."
"At least send word."
"The Chancellor said…"
The eunuch repeated the same line like a broken machine. I was no fool—I understood their true intent. They had no intention of meeting me from the start.
They want to see me completely broken before they'll be satisfied.
After the crushing defeat at Changping and the unexpected blow from Yan—a nation they had always looked down upon—they had even lost territory. Zhao's pride had taken a severe hit. It was obvious they intended to restore some of their dignity by forcing the Yan hostage to submit. It's fortunate I'm an adult. To think they'd pull such petty tricks on a mere nine-year-old child. Have they no shame?
Though I had no desire to actively defend the class system and still believed in the principle of equality for all, I understood my position. No matter that I was a hostage, I could not bow my head to a mere foreign eunuch. Even when I must lower it, there was a minimum standard to maintain.
"I shall return, then."
"Take care."
The eunuch gave a perfunctory nod, a faint sneer playing across his face as if to say, Let's see how long you can hold out. Thus I left the palace empty-handed. Or rather, not entirely empty-handed—I had at least confirmed that they were determined to break my will.
When I trudged back to our quarters, Han Jing, who had gone out earlier, was waiting to greet me.
"My lord."
"Let's talk inside."
Before recounting my own experience, I asked about the task I had assigned him. Han Jing shook his head with a grim expression.
"It won't be easy. Whether they're wary of Zhao or had already decided to treat us as expendable from the start, their response has been lukewarm at best."
Even Han Jing, who usually maintained the proper speech befitting his station, couldn't contain his frustration and spoke harshly. Realizing his emotions had gotten the better of him, he took a deep breath to calm himself.
"How did it go on your end, my lord?"
"Same as yours. I couldn't even see the Chancellor, let alone the king."
"As expected…"
Han Jing trailed off, his lips moving soundlessly. There was something he wanted to say but couldn't bring himself to voice. The reason our homeland had abandoned us so readily was because Yan's high officials had already anticipated that Zhao would try to recover their wounded pride through us. By discarding us first as expendable pieces, they ensured that even if we were forced to bow our heads, it wouldn't damage their own prestige too severely. In an era when children could simply be replaced, and where legitimacy of birth wasn't as rigidly emphasized, it was common for illegitimate sons to inherit thrones. The current king of Qin was one such case, as was King Xiaocheng of Yan, who had brought Yan to its golden age.
King Xiaocheng was also a hostage in another state, just like me.
Still, in this Warring States era where ethics had collapsed and the law of the jungle reigned supreme, the shield of being a legitimate son offered me no protection. It might serve as a secondary weapon to rally support during a future succession struggle, but for now it was nothing more than a double-edged sword that only increased my value as a hostage. If I weren't the legitimate heir, someone else would have been sent in my place.
Perhaps Han Jing had already concluded there was no hope left. He simply hung his head in silence. This was the same man who had vowed to serve me well when we arrived in Zhao. Now that I faced humiliation, he seemed consumed by self-reproach. But it was far too early to sink into despair.
"There is still one move left."
At my words, Han Jing jerked his head up and asked urgently, "What? Our homeland offers no help, and even the King of Zhao is treating us this way. What plan could possibly remain?"
"There's still one person even the King of Zhao cannot treat lightly."
The ruler of Zhao was, without question, the king. Even Lord Jianxin, who stood at the pinnacle of Zhao's bureaucracy, owed his position to the king's favor. Yet within Zhao there existed someone whom even the king could not handle carelessly—someone whose influence could sway public opinion and bend the king's own will.
"One of the Four Lords of the Warring States—Lord Pingyuan."
If the main road was blocked, one simply had to find another path.