Those Who Depart
The death of the King of Qin did not merely summon condolence envoys from the various states. Death was chained. The death of King Zhaoxiang of Qin did not signify the passing of a single man. The hegemon who had reigned for more than half a century, his gaze fixed upon the world, left behind a demise that marked the twilight of an entire age.
The death of a lifelong rival. The sudden absence of one’s greatest adversary. It was like one side abruptly releasing their grip in a fiercely contested tug-of-war. That was precisely what happened to Lord Pingyuan. Upon hearing of King Zhaoxiang’s death, he seemed to stumble as though the opposing side had let go of the rope, and his health collapsed with shocking speed. Lord Pingyuan’s body began to crumble. He had devoted his entire life to opposing King Zhaoxiang and protecting Zhao. King Zhaoxiang had been the archrival against whom he had spent every waking moment. Though the king had only seized true control of Qin’s politics long after his ascension, the footprints Qin left across the realm all bore his name.
His death loosened, in a single instant, the guilt and tension Lord Pingyuan had carried since the Battle of Changping. Once that cord had been released, he could not grasp it again. For Zhao, the news struck like lightning from a clear sky. They had only just managed to navigate the condolence issue thanks to Lord Jianxin volunteering to lead the mission, and now their central pillar had fallen. The shock that swept through Zhao’s court was profound. The King of Zhao himself visited Lord Pingyuan’s residence and dispatched the imperial physician, yet no improvement could be seen.
Lord Pingyuan lay bedridden, Lord Jianxin was absent from the state, and Han Xiang had been executed. Zhao’s administrative power had been severed nearly in half. The crisis threw me into turmoil as well. My mind was already threatening to burst from the question of Ying Zheng’s identity and what the future might hold; now I was forced to worry about Lord Pingyuan on top of everything else. It felt as though my thoughts might snap at any moment.
Though we had outwardly severed ties, Lord Pingyuan had continued to aid me in secret. Because I still considered myself indebted to him, I personally kept track of any news concerning his condition.
“How is Lord Pingyuan?”
“According to Master Zou… it does not look good.”
Han Jing shook his head with a heavy expression. His inability to finish the sentence told me everything about the severity of Lord Pingyuan’s state. A sickening twist gripped my insides, as though my organs were being wrung dry.
To me, Lord Pingyuan had been the first ally I gained in this unfamiliar land. Sent away to a distant country before I could even feel my parents’ warmth, he had been the one adult I could truly rely upon. Of course Lord Xinling stood with me now, and Lao Guquan had become a dependable partner in his own way, yet the kindness and consideration Lord Pingyuan had shown me carried a depth the others could not match.
“This will not do. I must go see him myself.”
“My lord! Please calm yourself. If you visit now, it will only damage Lord Pingyuan’s reputation.”
It was unbearable. The possibility that Ying Zheng might be Qin Shi Huang was torment enough; having to stand by and watch Lord Pingyuan die felt like suffocation. Caught between impossible choices, unable to reach any clear answer, I simply let the days flow past. Even when I was with Ying Zheng I did not know how to behave, and the affairs of the trading company refused to hold my attention.
Yet it seemed these emotions were not entirely one-sided.
“I have not come to harm the young master, so rise quietly.”
The voice that suddenly spoke beside my bed as I slept was one I knew well.
This voice…
The man Lord Pingyuan trusted most, bolder than any of his retainers. It was Mao Sui, who had once been charged with guarding him.
“Lord Pingyuan has summoned me?”
“Your wits are as quick as ever, my lord. That is good.”
There was no blade at my throat, so I rose comfortably. With no time to dress with proper ceremony, I simply threw on the first clothes that came to hand.
“Let us go.”
Mao Sui’s movements were phantom-like. If Jing Ke’s rescue of Ying Zheng had been a raging gale, Mao Sui was a shadow that stretched in utter silence.
Within ten paces, he could claim any opponent’s life as his own. Mao Sui had once declared exactly that to the King of Chu. When Handan was besieged and he accompanied Lord Pingyuan to seek reinforcements, he had threatened the stalling King of Chu by stating that his life now rested in the palm of his hand, forcing a swift agreement.
As the man who had offered to instruct Jing Ke, Mao Sui’s skill had clearly reached a realm that even a martial novice like myself could recognize as exceptional. Even while carrying me, his stride never faltered. He guided me through alleys of Handan I had never seen, as though he knew every backstreet by heart, and before long Lord Pingyuan’s residence appeared before my eyes.
Once inside the grounds, Mao Sui halted and stepped aside.
“From this point, the lord commanded that you proceed alone.”
“Thank you for escorting me.”
“I merely obeyed orders.”
Leaving the taciturn Mao Sui behind, I walked toward the inner chamber where Lord Pingyuan waited. Though I had felt such urgency to see him, my steps grew heavier with every pace. What expression would I find on the face of the man waiting beyond this door? My hands were trembling. I lifted my quivering fingers and gave the door a light knock.
“Lord Pingyuan, it is Ji Dan.”
“Enter.”
The resolve I had made—not to show any shock no matter how changed he might appear—began to fracture the instant I faced him inside the room.
“Lord Pingyuan…”
He had become so gaunt it was difficult to believe he was the same man who had looked healthy only recently. His complexion was deathly pale, his eyes sunken into deep, dark hollows. He had lost so much weight that his cheeks were hollowed out. I had seen this pattern before. In my previous life I had watched from the side as someone collapsed just as suddenly, became an invalid within weeks, and died without ever regaining the use of their hands. The modern world called the disease that had killed them pancreatic cancer.
Pancreatic cancer…
The cruelest of malignancies, the one that approached without sound and, by the time its symptoms fully revealed themselves, already had the reaper standing at the bedside. I was no physician, yet the name flashed through my mind on pure instinct. I had only witnessed one such patient, but the memory had been seared into me. Perhaps I was simply overlaying that horror onto the man before me.
Whatever the name of the illness, one merciless fact was clear: the time remaining to Lord Pingyuan could now be measured in mere moments.
“How long do you intend to stand there? Come, sit.”
“…Yes.”
I had been so stunned that I remained frozen. Only then did I regain some composure and take a seat before him.
“It has been a long time since we last met like this, just the two of us.”
“It has. I am truly glad to be able to see you again, even under these circumstances.”
“Haha. Is that so? You have grown so much. Strangely, it does not feel awkward. Perhaps because I have heard so much about you from Zou Yan and my sister-in-law.”
Lord Pingyuan was so calm it was hard to believe he stood at death’s threshold.
“I have watched your every step with great interest, yet I can only call it remarkable. Honestly, I do not believe I could have done what you have done. My sister-in-law, perhaps, but not I.”
“You have been remarkable as well, Lord Pingyuan. I still have a long way to go before I could hope to follow your example.”
“Hahaha. If, at my age and with death before me, I could not even manage that much, I should never have looked twice at the Chancellor’s seat.”
The light conversation flowing between us broke when a cough laced with blood erupted from Lord Pingyuan’s lips.
“Cough, cough… ugh… As you can see, my young prince, little time remains to me now.”
“Lord Pingyuan…”
I wanted to deny it, yet the sight of his condition kept the words trapped in my throat. He wiped the blood from his hand onto his robes and spoke more urgently, as though time itself pressed upon him.
“I hear you are seeking to expand your power in Yan.”
“If Lord Xinling told you, then it is true.”
“Do you intend to become King of Yan?”
“If that is the role given to me, then yes, I shall.”
As we spoke, I moved closer and gently supported him as he swayed, on the verge of collapse. He pushed aside my hand when I tried to ease him onto the bed and continued.
“That day, you told me this as well. Even if I forget you, you will remember the oath between us.”
“I did.”
Lord Pingyuan had lamented that our great undertaking had crumbled, yet I had vowed never to forget the grace he had shown me and to uphold our promise even if I had to do so alone.
“My lord…”
“Lord Pingyuan.”
“When you chose to take in that child Ying Zheng, do you remember the answer you gave me when I asked your reason?”
“I remember. I answered with inclusive love.”
Impartial love for all, without discrimination. When I had taken Ying Zheng under that banner, Lord Pingyuan had sunk into sorrow, wondering whether I had become a Mohist.
“Then…”
Lord Pingyuan seized the arm with which I supported him. The grip was so fierce it pained me, making me doubt whether this was truly the same man who had seemed ready to fall apart moments earlier.