The Company

Chapter 24: Bronze Weight Balance

In the 26th Year of Qin Shi Huang's Reign, 221 BCE

Feeling someone gently wiping his face with a warm, damp towel, Huhai groggily opened his eyes to see the face of a young teenager. It was originally quite an endearing, chubby-cheeked face, yet every morning Huhai would feel immense resentment upon seeing it.

Because it meant he had to get up!

"Sun Shuo, get away!" Huhai turned his face away, avoiding the damp towel wiping his cheeks, and tightly closed his eyes, intending to go back to sleep.

Sun Shuo was long accustomed to the young master's morning resistance to waking. Smiling cheerfully, he persuaded, "Young Master, today is your first day with your tutor. Do you really want to greet your teacher like this?"

Mentioning this matter only made Huhai angrier. He abruptly sat up from his bed, complaining indignantly, "Sun Shuo, tell me, isn't Father Emperor too biased? Elder Brother's tutor is the great contemporary scholar Chunyu Yue. I heard Elder Brother started learning characters and reading at five years old, while I'm almost ten now and only just getting my first tutor! And this person is actually the Central Chariot Office Director! Just a minor official managing the imperial carriages and horses! Having someone like this be my tutor! It's so unfair!"

Sun Shuo remained smiling. In his view, the task of waking the young master had already been successfully accomplished. Judging by the young master's current state, there was no chance he'd want to go back to sleep. Gently wiping Huhai's neck, hands, and feet, he helped him change into his robes piece by piece while advising, "Young Master, how much His Majesty dotes on you is evident to everyone in the palace. His Majesty was afraid you couldn't endure the hardship of studying. I remember once passing by the Eldest Prince's quarters and seeing scrolls piled mountain-high in his study. The Eldest Prince's attendants also privately complain that just moving those scrolls back and forth every day exhausts them half to death!"

Huhai's mood indeed improved somewhat, but he became very interested in what Sun Shuo had said. Raising his delicate eyebrows, he asked, "Oh? Is that really true?Sun Shuo thought to himself that children were indeed easy to coax. Although he was only a few years older than Huhai, he always felt the young master was spoiled—after all, the First Emperor truly loved him too much.

Young Master Huhai was born in 230 BCE, precisely in the same month when the First Emperor, then still the King of Qin, annexed the State of Han and began his unification campaign. The First Emperor was a very superstitious man who believed Young Master Huhai's birth was a blessing bestowed upon him by heaven, thus treating him completely differently from his other sons. Whatever Huhai requested was granted whenever possible—his food, belongings, clothing, and toys were all of the finest quality. Everyone in the Qin Palace knew Young Master Huhai was the treasure held closest to the First Emperor's heart.

Nine years passed in the blink of an eye. The First Emperor had unified the six states, and Huhai remained immensely favored, yet Sun Shuo began to feel something was amiss.

That's right—because the young master was already nearly ten years old and still hadn't been assigned a tutor to teach him reading! Compared to Eldest Prince Fusu, who had been studying diligently since age five, this was rather peculiar. After Sun Shuo's recent subtle hints, Huhai finally realized the situation and personally asked the First Emperor for permission to study.

Unexpectedly, the tutor the First Emperor assigned to Huhai turned out to be Zhao Gao, the Central Chariot Office Director.Sun Shuo was not as disappointed as Huhai. What did it matter that Fusu's tutor was the great Confucian scholar Chunyu Yue? Chunyu Yue's Confucian political views were completely opposite to the Legalist ideology promoted by the First Emperor, while Zhao Gao was a palace attendant favored by the First Emperor. Though currently only holding the minor position of Central Carriage Officer, this role involved managing the emperor's chariots and horses, accompanying him on journeys, and even personally driving the imperial carriage—a position of utmost importance that could only be entrusted to the emperor's most trusted confidant. Moreover, it was said that Zhao Gao was well-versed in legal codes and a renowned Legalist scholar. If the young prince could receive sincere guidance from such a person, he would undoubtedly benefit greatly.

However, these were not words a mere palace attendant should utter. If overheard by those with ill intentions, he would meet a gruesome end without even a proper burial. Thus, he could only smile repeatedly, skillfully adjusting the young prince's attire from head to toe, before gazing contentedly at the handsome child he had watched grow up.

Huhai remained displeased, muttering incessantly. Yet, as a child not yet ten years old, he could only repeat the same complaints, crying "unfair, unfair" over and over. Just as Sun Shuo was about to offer some consolation, a cold snort echoed from outside the bedchamber. A tall, slender young man strode in unabashedly, pushing aside the curtains. Several attendants stood by with bowed heads, none daring to intercept him.

The man wore a five-colored fish scale silk robe, with golden hooks fastening the front of his shoes, a ribbon and jade pendant adorning his waist, and a martial crown atop his head. This crown, tied with black silk and featuring twin upright tails and soaring cloud motifs, held significant historical weight—it was said to have been worn by King Wuling of Zhao. After the First Emperor conquered Zhao, he bestowed the crown of its former ruler upon his close courtiers.

For a courtier to wear the crown of a Zhao king—and for this man to bear the surname Zhao—could it merely be a coincidence?

Suppressing his doubts, Sun Shuo had no time to scrutinize the man's appearance before prostrating himself on the ground. He was, after all, merely a lowly palace attendant. Discreetly, he tugged at Huhai's robe, which trailed on the floor, reminding the young prince to show respect for his teacher.

"Who gave you permission to barge into the bedchamber so rudely?" Huhai's clear voice rang out, brimming with unparalleled arrogance. Cold sweat trickled down Sun Shuo's cheeks—his young master's temperament was truly a product of the First Emperor's indulgence.

"This subject heard someone shouting 'unfair.' Was it you, young prince?" Zhao Gao's voice was low yet tinged with sharpness, deliberately modulated to an unsettling, monotonous pitch.

"So what if it was me?" Huhai stamped his feet in anger. Even without looking up, Sun Shuo knew the child's face must be flushed crimson with rage.

"Young prince, do you know the meaning of the word 'fair'?" Zhao Gao's voice remained flat and unnervingly calm, like stagnant water.

"Ah?" Huhai clearly had not expected such a question. Though intelligent and occasionally exposed to state affairs while sitting on his father's lap, he had never received formal education. After a moment's thought, he replied, "After Father unified the six states, he mandated uniform writing scripts, standardized axle lengths for carts, and unified systems of measurement. 'Uniform systems' refer to standardized weights and measures. 'Fairness' seems to derive from the concept of balancing scales.""Exactly, a weighing instrument is a tool used to measure the weight of objects. They are usually made of bronze—the weight is the counterbalance, and the beam is the scale arm. As Zhuangzi·Quqie says: 'They use weights and scales to measure things.'" Zhao Gao spoke indifferently, evidently quite satisfied with Huhai's answer. He pulled a bronze scale beam and several bronze weights from his sleeve and handed them to Huhai. "These are newly cast bronze weight balances, young master. Take them to play with."

Huhai secretly rejoiced in his heart. His father the emperor usually rewarded him with nothing more than gold, silver, and jewels—this was the first time he had seen such common bronze toys. Beginning to feel that this teacher before him might not be so bad, Huhai reached out to take them. But because he was small and his hands weren't big enough, several bronze weights fell to the ground, rolling clatteringly far away.

Sun Shuo quickly knelt and crawled to gather the scattered bronze weights, placing them in his palms and raising them above his head, waiting for Huhai to take them.

Huhai fiddled with the bronze weight balance in his hands and soon used one bronze weight to measure the weight of his young master's gold seal. Delighted, he exclaimed, "This is fairness, right? Impartial and unbiased."

Then he heard Zhao Gao snort coldly and say, "Fairness? This is indeed fair. But if I were to use this bronze weight to exchange for that young master's gold seal in your hand, would you make the trade?"

Huhai was stunned. Although this was his first time seeing bronze weight balances, he knew bronze and gold couldn't be compared in value. After a dazed moment, he shook his little head and said, "No trade. That wouldn't be fair at all."

"Correct. So although fairness comes from weighing instruments, not everything can be measured with them." Zhao Gao's monotone voice sounded somewhat eerie.

Sun Shuo's arms were growing slightly sore from holding them up, but he bowed his head even lower. He knew this man was teaching the young master—not from books, but from reality.

It seemed the young master had truly gotten quite a good teacher!

Huhai, however, found Zhao Gao's series of statements headache-inducing. Putting the heavy bronze weight balance into Sun Shuo's waiting hands, he asked puzzledly, "Then what is fairness? Oh, I know—is it what the public says is fair?"

Zhao Gao let out a faint cold laugh. "The public? Did the people of the six states want to become Qin subjects? Did they wish for their homes to be trampled by Qin's warhorses?" His words were full of sarcasm and discontent, yet his tone remained calm as if devoid of any emotion, creating a stark dissonance. Cold sweat dripped increasingly from Sun Shuo's temples—was it really safe to speak like this within the Qin palace?

Huhai was also taken aback, unsure how to answer this question.

Zhao Gao didn't expect anyone to respond to his rhetoric. He continued flatly, "Therefore, only what the most powerful person says constitutes true fairness."

"This is your first lesson from me, young master. Fairness isn't what the public says—it's what lords and rulers say that is fairness."

"So strive to become someone powerful, young master."

After a moment of stunned silence, Huhai grew excited.

Sun Shuo sweat poured down like rain—was such a teacher really appropriate?

215 BCE, 32nd Year of Qin Shi Huang's ReignSun Shuo trotted quickly behind Huhai as they hurried through the imperial garden. In the blink of an eye, the young master he had served since childhood had turned fifteen—a tall, graceful youth with jade-like features, an exceptionally handsome young man. His young master held a noble status, being the most beloved youngest son of the First Emperor. Even if Huhai strutted arrogantly through the palace, no one would dare utter a word of complaint.

Yet, Sun Shuo knew Huhai was not happy.

Although the First Emperor had once appointed Zhao Gao as his tutor, Zhao Gao was soon promoted to the position of Keeper of the Seals, responsible for managing all the emperor’s seals, leaving him little time to instruct Huhai. As a result, Huhai spent his days idly wandering the palace.

Of course, this was the misconception held by the palace eunuchs. Only Sun Shuo, who had always followed Huhai closely, knew the truth: his young master roamed the palace aimlessly each day but would always end up lingering in a secluded spot outside the warm chamber of the Xianyang Palace, staying there for the entire day.

This was because he could overhear the First Emperor discussing state affairs. Sun Shuo knew it was not a problem for Huhai to eavesdrop, but for a lowly eunuch like himself, hearing something he shouldn’t would come at a great cost. So, he always stood at a distance, keeping watch for his young master. From afar, he observed Huhai standing in the shadows, sunlight filtering through the dense foliage and casting dappled patterns on his figure. The slender silhouette, clad in heavy robes, appeared all the more fragile.

Sun Shuo sighed silently. His young master’s habit of standing for entire days had been formed long ago. Even as a young child, Huhai had loved visiting the study of the eldest prince, Fusu. Fusu had always welcomed his visits, for Huhai was an endearing child who, even when he didn’t understand, never fussed or made noise. He would simply fix his bright, clear eyes intently on whatever was happening, and no one could resist his gaze. Later, however, the First Emperor declared that Huhai would disrupt Fusu’s studies and firmly forbade him from entering Fusu’s study. So, Huhai began standing outside the study to listen in secret. When Fusu was permitted to participate in state affairs at the Xianyang Palace, Huhai’s post shifted to the area outside the warm chamber.

Sun Shuo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, easing the numbness in his legs. These small tricks were passed down privately among the palace eunuchs—only by mastering them could one stand for an entire day. It was astonishing to Sun Shuo that even his noble young master had to rely on such techniques.

As he grew older, Sun Shuo began to understand things that had once eluded him.

For instance, why the First Emperor indulged Huhai in every way yet refused to let him study. Or why he showered him with boundless affection, elevating him to the heavens, granting any treasure without hesitation—except for books and swords.

It was because the First Emperor saw Huhai as a son, while he regarded the eldest prince, Fusu, as the heir to the empire.

The First Emperor was excessively critical of Fusu, but the harsher his attitude, the higher his expectations for him. The more he indulged Huhai and let him do as he pleased, the clearer it became that he did not take Huhai seriously.Huhai had once confided in him privately that he deliberately acted spoiled and willfully demanded all sorts of rare treasures because the First Emperor always granted his requests without batting an eye. Yet Sun Shuo knew the young prince didn’t truly desire these cold, glittering, eye-dazzling objects. He simply enjoyed the look of dejection that appeared on the elder prince’s face whenever he successfully obtained treasures from the First Emperor.

One craved recognition, the other yearned for paternal love—both were blessed yet unaware of their fortune…

Sun Shuo glanced at the sun in the sky and first went to a nearby pavilion to prepare snacks and water. Not long after, he saw his young prince approaching with an expression of discontent. He hurriedly prepared a cushion and tested the temperature of the cup—neither too hot nor too cold, just perfect.

However, Huhai, having sat down, did not drink. Instead, he bit the thumbnail of his left hand, his face dark and gloomy.

Sun Shuo knew that Huhai dreamed of legitimately sitting in the Xianyang Palace, but this dream seemed difficult to realize. He reached out and stopped his young prince’s uncouth habit. He didn’t know when this bad habit had started, but he noticed that whenever Huhai grew agitated, he would unconsciously bite his nails. No matter how Sun Shuo tried to stop him, he couldn’t break the habit.

“Sun Shuo, this isn’t fair.” Huhai’s handsome face was taut as he spoke, enunciating each word deliberately. He had only uttered six simple words without elaborating, but Sun Shuo, who had served him all along, understood his meaning. Huhai was discontented—why could that person study and practice calligraphy with the emperor’s eldest son, participate in political discussions, while he couldn’t even step past the threshold?

Sun Shuo drew a clean silk handkerchief from his sleeve and carefully wiped Huhai’s left hand, sighing inwardly at the sight of the gnawed, stubby nails. His young prince’s hands were truly elegant, but these nails were rather unsightly. Should he have the young prince wear gloves from now on?

“Sun Shuo!” Huhai, growing impatient at the lack of response, waved his hand irritably, knocking the silk handkerchief to the ground.

Sun Shuo wasn’t angered; his young prince had always been like this. With lowered eyes and submissive demeanor, he bent to pick up the handkerchief and, at the same time, untied the prince’s gold seal from his waist. Then, under Huhai’s puzzled gaze, he took out a crudely made Bronze Weight from his own sleeve.

As both small objects lay quietly on the table, Huhai noticed the inscription from the 26th year of Qin Shi Huang’s reign on the Bronze Weight and frowned. “Isn’t this the Bronze Weight Balance that Zhao Gao gave me when we first met? Why are you carrying it around?” He remembered having lost interest in it after just a few days and carelessly misplacing it somewhere.

Sun Shuo’s face flushed slightly. This Bronze Weight was as heavy as the prince’s gold seal, and he had kept it close to him due to a subtle feeling that it held special significance. Clearing his throat softly, he said, “Young Master, Sun Shuo remembers that this Bronze Weight is of the same weight as your gold seal.”

Huhai nodded, a reminiscent smile touching his lips. “That’s right, I personally weighed them.”

Seeing his mood lighten slightly, Sun Shuo pondered for a moment before continuing, “Young Master, Sun Shuo presumes to say that this Bronze Weight is like your servant—commonplace throughout the Qin Empire, circulating among the markets. Whereas this gold seal represents you, Young Master—priceless and unique in this world.”

“Oh? That’s a novel analogy.” Huhai raised an eyebrow, curious about what Sun Shuo would say next."This bronze weight is of equal mass to the young master's gold seal. In a way, it represents fairness, for we all possess the same life, living in this world," Sun Shuo said with a gentle smile.

"That's not wrong," Huhai picked up the cup before him and took a sip of water. "You're not going to say next that this is actually unfair, are you? Something about our statuses being different or the like?"

Sun Shuo lowered his voice. "Young master, the Keeper of the Seals once taught you that fairness exists in this world, but only the words of those with true power are considered fair. Yet in my view, there has never been true fairness in this world. Just as I was born to serve as the young master's attendant, you were born to be a prince."

Indeed, he had pondered this question for a long time - why was he destined from birth to serve others? But as time passed, he had come to accept it. Since fate had decreed it so, why should he dwell on it? Moreover, the young master he served was kind, and he found contentment in his duties.

"Just like this bronze weight - even if it weren't a weight, its essence would still be brass, worth little. And this gold seal of yours - even if it weren't cast into a seal, its essence would still be gold, the most precious substance in the world," Sun Shuo spoke with genuine sincerity.

Huhai toyed with the gold seal in his hand for a long while before his handsome face darkened. He snorted coldly, "All this elaborate speech - are you just trying to make me understand the gap between me and the Crown Prince? That I'm destined to be this gold seal while he's fated to be that Imperial Jade Seal, the Heirloom Seal of the Realm?"

Sun Shuo bowed his head in silence. He didn't know how to express himself, nor whether his approach was correct. But he truly couldn't bear to see the young master suffer like this. Coveting what doesn't belong to oneself, regardless of the final outcome, always comes at a great cost.

When no answer came, Huhai flew into a rage, sweeping his sleeve as he stormed out. Cups, dishes, bowls, and chopsticks were sent crashing to the floor from the table, leaving a scene of disarray.

It took Sun Shuo considerable effort to retrieve the rough bronze weight from the grass. Carefully wiping away the dust, he treasured it and stored it securely in his sleeve.

Though he had angered his young master during the day, Sun Shuo knew this youth he had watched grow up was easily appeased. During the evening meal, he specially produced the golden phoenix dagger he had acquired from others for the young master's appraisal. Though the young master wore an expression of disdain, his eyes betrayed his fascination. Having served his young master for so long, Sun Shuo naturally knew where his weaknesses lay. Well, if he remained displeased, then minor tactics were called for.

Sun Shuo attended to Huhai's bedtime routine as usual. Noticing the bamboo scroll on the desk turned to its final strip, he understandingly rolled it up, concealed it in his sleeve, and walked out.

Bamboo scrolls were indeed precious items, though in the imperial palace they weren't considered particularly valuable. But just because the First Emperor didn't grant scrolls to the young prince didn't mean he couldn't read any books at all. As the versatile attendant, Sun Shuo would handle it for him.

Sun Shuo's method was actually quite simple - he would go directly to borrow from the Crown Prince, Fusu.As the eldest prince in the palace who possessed more bamboo scrolls than even the First Emperor, he was truly an excellent person to seek help from. Moreover, the eldest prince Fusu was a very gentle man. When he first went to ask, he had actually forced himself to speak up, but that gentle eldest prince, upon hearing that his younger brother wanted to read, immediately selected a bamboo scroll for him without hesitation. Back then, he didn't know many characters and couldn't remember what book it was, but he only recalled that the young prince was very satisfied when he took it to read. Later, this became their private routine.

He thought that the young prince had always secretly admired the eldest prince in his heart.

Familiar with the route, Sun Shuo deftly avoided the palace guards and arrived unnoticed outside the study of the First Prince, Fusu. He had barely knocked lightly when the door was pulled open from within. A young man wearing a wide-sleeved green robe and a bright-hemmed long robe smiled and said, "I was just telling His Highness that you would likely come tonight." Sun Shuo hurried into the study and bowed. Though this youth appeared young, he had been renowned in the court years ago. At the age of twelve, he was appointed as a High Minister, a position comparable to that of the Chancellor at the time. Moreover, he was not a palace eunuch but held an official post, which was why he addressed the First Prince as "His Highness."

Only the eunuchs still followed the old customs. In this empire now, very few could be honored with the title "Prince," as the First Emperor had conquered the six states, and only his sons were entitled to be called "Prince."

"Sun Shuo pays his respects to the First Prince," Sun Shuo said as he turned and saw Fusu sitting cross-legged behind a low table, deeply engrossed in his reading. Beside him, a green jade five-branched goose-foot lamp burned brightly, casting a golden halo around his silhouette, making him appear imposing and noble.

Sun Shuo only glanced briefly before averting his gaze. Naturally, in his heart, no matter how handsome the First Prince was, he could not compare to the young prince he had raised himself. Seeing the table piled high with bamboo scrolls, he knew the First Prince must be occupied with important matters and refrained from speaking further. He retrieved the scroll to be returned from his sleeve and handed it to the young man beside him, bowing his head with a smile as he said, "Sir, the young prince has finished reading this 'Law on Currency and Cloth.'"

This caught the attention of Fusu, who had been lost in thought behind the table. He set down the scroll in his hand and chuckled in surprise, "Oh? Hai'er has already reached the 'Law on Currency and Cloth'? That’s quite impressive."

Sun Shuo felt a sense of pride and quickly bowed his head to report, "The young prince once told me that among the fifteen articles of the 'Law on Currency and Cloth,' he found the one stating, 'When the government receives money, one thousand coins shall be placed in one basket, sealed with the seals of the Assistant and the Magistrate. Whether the coins are good or bad, they shall be mixed together,' to be the best."

A few lines from the Qin laws, and he had improved so much.

Fortunately, the ever-gentle First Prince came to his rescue, changing the subject with a smile as he asked, "What book would you like to borrow this time?"

Sun Shuo had been waiting for this question and promptly replied, "I heard the young prince say he would like to read the 'Law on the Appointment of Officials' this time."

It was not Fusu who responded this time but the young man beside him. He was more familiar with the scrolls in Fusu’s study than Fusu himself. After a moment’s thought, the young man exclaimed softly, "The 'Law on the Appointment of Officials' was taken by me to the warm chamber a few days ago. It’s not here."

Sun Shuo understood. It seemed the high-ranking officials in the warm chamber had been discussing matters related to the 'Law on the Appointment of Officials' these past few days. His young prince, unable to fully grasp the discussions, naturally wanted to study it. Upon hearing that the scroll was not here, a flicker of disappointment crossed his downcast eyes, but his voice remained filled with gratitude as he said, "Then I apologize for disturbing the First Prince. Any other scroll will suffice for me to borrow."

Hearing this, the young man prepared to casually hand him another scroll, but Fusu turned and said with a smile, "Speaking of the 'Law on the Appointment of Officials,' I do recall it. It’s on top of the third pile of scrolls to the left in the warm chamber. I looked at it earlier today, so it should still be there. Bi Zhi, please go and fetch it."Sun Shuo was deeply moved, knowing that the eldest young master must be aware of Huhai standing guard outside the Warm Pavilion and also understood his reason for borrowing the "Regulations on Appointing Officials." However, he truly dared not trouble the young man beside him—after all, the other party was a high-ranking minister! So he quickly bent his head even lower and said, "There's no need to trouble you, my lord. If it is convenient, this humble servant can go and fetch it myself."

The young man likely had no intention of making the trip for him either, as it was quite a distance from here to the Warm Pavilion. The autumn night was windy and damp with dew, making anyone reluctant to step outside. The young man then unfastened a key from his waist and handed it to Sun Shuo, instructing him not to rummage through things carelessly and to say, if questioned, that the eldest young master had sent him to retrieve the book.

Sun Shuo noted everything down carefully. In truth, this wasn't the first time such a thing had happened; there had been instances before when Huhai specifically requested bamboo scrolls that were kept in the Warm Pavilion. After all, Young Master Huhai had no one to teach him and could only listen to their political discussions, which naturally sparked his interest in the laws mentioned during their conversations. Hence, such incidents of having to fetch books from the Warm Pavilion occurred. Moreover, Fusu frequently moved his bamboo scrolls back and forth between his study and the Warm Pavilion. Moving scrolls was laborious work, and Sun Shuo had often been summoned along the way to serve as manual labor. After all, eunuchs like them, who were assumed to be illiterate, were the most reliable laborers.

Taking the key to the Warm Pavilion, Sun Shuo took his leave and headed straight there under the cover of night. The darkness was profound, but for a eunuch who had lived here for over a decade, the moonlight alone was sufficient to illuminate the path. Soon, he arrived outside the Warm Pavilion. Through the window, he could see a faint blue glow emanating from within. To avoid the irritation of oil lamp smoke and the risk of fire destroying important political documents, the Warm Pavilion was not lit by oil lamps but by Night-Shining Pearls.

Sun Shuo circled to the main entrance of the Warm Pavilion and was about to take out the key to unlock the door when he noticed that the lock was not fastened on the latch.

For a moment, Sun Shuo was stunned. To his knowledge, only the First Emperor, the eldest young master Fusu, and the Seal Keeper Zhao Gao possessed keys to the Warm Pavilion. The set of keys belonging to Fusu was now in his hands, so whoever was inside—whether it was one of the other two—he could not enter rashly. However, after calming himself, he realized there were no guards stationed outside the Warm Pavilion, which meant it definitely wasn't the First Emperor inside.

Why would Zhao Gao come to the Warm Pavilion in the dead of night? Sun Shuo's heart felt as if a cat were scratching at it, his curiosity itching unbearably. He knew that in the inner palace, curiosity was the most dangerous trait, but after only a moment's consideration, he made up his mind.

He would just take a look—without saying a word, it would be fine.

Having stood guard invisibly here for years, Sun Shuo was intimately familiar with the Warm Pavilion, even knowing exactly where to crouch down to find a gap. His young master would never stoop to such an undignified posture, but for Sun Shuo, it posed no issue at all. Locating the gap accurately in the darkness, he pressed his eye against it and immediately saw someone seated behind a desk, flipping through the bamboo scrolls on it.

From his angle, he couldn't see the person's face, only the two cyan silk-trimmed double-tailed plumes adorning the ostentatious martial crown of King Wuling of Zhao.It was indeed the Keeper of the Tallies and Seals, Zhao Gao, but what was he doing here so late at night? Sun Shuo instinctively felt that this man must be up to something nefarious. Although he could make out the characters on the bamboo slips in Zhao Gao's hands, he couldn't see them clearly, only vaguely discerning some strokes. Holding his breath, he watched as Zhao Gao stared at the slips in his hands, hesitated for a moment, then took out a pure white brush from his robe. After dipping it in ink, he began writing directly on the slips.

Sun Shuo blinked, thinking he must be seeing things. The reason the warm chamber was not heavily guarded was precisely because bamboo slips were difficult to alter and even harder to smuggle out of the palace. And now he was witnessing Zhao Gao modifying the slips! With each stroke of the brush, the original characters on the slips gradually vanished, replaced by new ones.

Was... was he dreaming? Sun Shuo secretly pinched his own thigh—it hurt. If this were a dream, the pain would have woken him by now.

Was this how Zhao Gao performed his duties as Keeper of the Tallies and Seals? Could he arbitrarily alter any decree that displeased him? This was beyond outrageous!

Calming himself, Sun Shuo realized that Zhao Gao must have been doing this for some time without detection, likely because he only modified insignificant decrees or minor officials' reports, making the changes inconspicuous.

Sun Shuo knew that the stacks of bamboo slips on the desk were arranged with processed ones on the left and those requiring attention the next day on the right. He watched Zhao Gao closely and noticed that the man ignored the left stack entirely, instead rummaging through the right one. After swiftly making alterations, Zhao Gao deliberately placed one scroll on top before leisurely locking the door and leaving.

Sun Shuo remained crouched in the grass, dazed for a long while, before remembering he had been away too long—long enough to arouse the eldest prince's suspicion. Brushing off his robes as he stood, he decided to bury this discovery deep in his heart. Given his status, no one would believe him even if he spoke up. Moreover, he was certain the altered slips showed no traces of tampering. Without evidence, who would trust his mere words?

Wiping cold sweat from his brow, Sun Shuo opened the door to the warm chamber and easily found the "Statutes on the Establishment of Officials" that Huhai wanted in the third pile to the left of the entrance. Just as he was about to leave, his gaze fell upon the stack of slips on the right side of the desk.

Just one look... surely it couldn't hurt to take one look?

Stealthily, Sun Shuo approached and picked up the top scroll, which bore the title "The Recorded Charts." The name sounded familiar—earlier that day while standing guard outside the warm chamber, he had overheard someone mention it was a mystical text brought back by Lu Sheng, who had been sent overseas to seek immortality elixirs. This book required approval from the Minister of Ceremonies, the head of the Nine Ministers. The First Emperor had earlier reprimanded the Minister for his sluggishness, yet it had been delivered overnight.

Carefully unrolling the scroll, Sun Shuo was struck dumb by five glaringly large characters:

"The one who will destroy Qin is Hu."

The words were simple enough—he understood them at once. The commentary below was equally straightforward, with the Minister of Ceremonies annotating: "Suspect the young prince poses a threat to the state. Advise relocating his residence."

Sun Shuo was so shocked he nearly dropped the scroll, only snapping back to his senses when it almost slipped from his trembling hands.The following line of annotation, though painstakingly imitated to match the handwriting of the Minister of Ceremonies, had been something Zhao Gao had taught Huhai. Sun Shuo had seen several bamboo scrolls he had written—despite the utmost restraint in the final character "zhi," the last stroke still curled upward slightly, unable to resist the flourish.

This must be an annotation altered by Zhao Gao!

What reason did Zhao Gao have to target the young prince? Even if he didn’t want to teach him, he didn’t need to go this far!

A raging fire ignited within Sun Shuo’s heart. Huhai’s situation was already incredibly awkward. If he were to be moved out of Xianyang Palace and lose the favor of Qin Shi Huang, those opportunistic palace attendants would surely never treat Huhai with any respect.

The thought of the young prince he had raised with his own hands falling from the clouds into the mud made Sun Shuo’s heart ache as if cut by a knife. At this moment, he could no longer adhere to his previous resolution of non-interference. When it came to matters concerning his young prince, he naturally would not stand idly by.

To avoid alerting the enemy, Sun Shuo carefully placed the bamboo scroll back in its original position—on the top right corner of the desk—then quietly retreated from the warm chamber, locked the door, and headed straight for the Eldest Prince’s study.

Not long after he left, a tall figure emerged from behind the warm chamber, peering for a long time through a crack where light seeped out. Then, bending down, the figure retrieved a dark, obscure object from the grass.

"The 26th year of Qin Shi Huang’s reign? Hmm, this is quite a commemorative Bronze Weight..." A voice devoid of emotion murmured softly from the darkness, yet it carried a faint hint of amusement.

Sun Shuo trudged back, his steps sluggish, with two large dark circles under his eyes. The previous night, he had rushed to the Eldest Prince’s study to return the key and recounted everything he had seen and heard in detail, pleading for a solution. But no matter how much he argued, the Eldest Prince only wore an expression of extreme reluctance.

It made sense—without concrete evidence, if someone else had told him such a story, he too would have dismissed it as baseless nonsense.

In the end, with no other options, Sun Shuo could only beg the Eldest Prince to put in a good word for Huhai before Qin Shi Huang. The look in the young minister’s eyes clearly indicated blame for Sun Shuo’s unauthorized reading of political documents. Sun Shuo knew that borrowing scrolls in the future would likely be far more difficult.

But first, he had to ensure the young prince would not be expelled from Xianyang Palace. Otherwise, forget borrowing scrolls—even maintaining their current life of luxury would be uncertain.

The Eldest Prince worked through the night, and Sun Shuo knelt in his study the entire time, begging for his favor. Only at daybreak, when he had to attend to Huhai’s waking, did he reluctantly take his leave. Upon entering the young prince’s bedchamber and drawing back the heavy curtains, he found his young prince already fully dressed, standing expressionlessly by the window, gazing out at the garden.

Sun Shuo felt a pang of emotion. As Huhai grew older, he no longer lingered in bed and no longer needed the coaxing he had required as a child.

"Where have you been?" Before Sun Shuo could finish reminiscing, Huhai’s icy words struck him like shards of frost.

Sun Shuo froze for a moment, then lowered his head to conceal the smile at the corner of his lips. Was this a complaint about his absence all night? Instantly, Sun Shuo no longer felt the pain in his knees. He drew the scroll of "Laws on Official Appointments" from his sleeve and presented it with both hands.

Huhai did not take it immediately as he usually would. Instead, he fixed Sun Shuo with a cold stare, making him feel as though needles were pricking his back.Still stewing over yesterday's temper? Sun Shuo was about to say a few placating words when he heard a sharp, accusatory question from above: "You spent the entire night at the Crown Prince's residence?"

Sun Shuo nodded, intending to explain, but his acknowledgment only fueled Huhai's rage further.

"Sun Shuo! We have spent over a decade together day and night, and I never knew you were such a treacherous, ambitious snake!" Huhai grew angrier as he spoke, snatching a bamboo scroll from the table and hurling it violently at Sun Shuo.

The heavy scroll struck Sun Shuo's forehead, but he made no move to dodge. It wasn't that he didn't want to—he was simply stunned by his young master's words. What kind of act was this now?

The scattered scrolls clattered crisply on the floor, yet no attendants rushed in to clean up. Sun Shuo knew Huhai had dismissed them all. Feeling warm liquid trickle down his forehead and watching droplets of bright red blood splatter on the ground, Sun Shuo—already exhausted from a sleepless night—felt momentarily dizzy.

"Sun Shuo! How have I ever wronged you? You secretly collude with my elder brother, betray my secrets, and even conspire with him, claiming that the 'Hu' in 'the one who will destroy Qin is Hu' refers to me?! How dare you utter such words!" Huhai's fury mounted as he picked up whatever was within reach and threw it at Sun Shuo. He had always enjoyed throwing things, often targeting attendants, but he had never once aimed anything at Sun Shuo.

Sun Shuo still didn't evade. He now understood where the problem lay and was about to explain when a voice spoke before he could: "Young Master, calm your anger. This person is not worth such fury." The voice was flat and easily recognizable.

So Zhao Gao had arrived early. Had his spying been discovered last night? Sun Shuo was puzzled. If they wanted to silence him, why go through the trouble of bringing it before Huhai? He didn't look up at Zhao Gao. Though the man frequented this place, Sun Shuo had always kept his head bowed, never once glimpsing Zhao Gao's face. He was familiar, however, with the King Wuling of Zhao-style military cap on Zhao Gao's head and that monotonous voice—his only means of identifying him.

"I recall this man's name was bestowed by the Crown Prince, was it not?" Zhao Gao set down his teacup, the base clinking sharply against the table.

Sun Shuo froze. If not for this reminder, he would have long forgotten. Many years ago, when Huhai was still young and fond of sneaking into Fusu's study, Sun Shuo had accompanied him and inevitably encountered the Crown Prince. His original name had been crude—commoners often chose the humblest names—and the Crown Prince, displeased to hear it daily, had renamed him.

"I also remember that because you said you were born in the tenth month, my elder brother named you Shuo, drawing from the poem 'The Tenth Month' in the Classic of Poetry," Huhai said coldly. "'In the tenth month conjunctions occur, / On the first day of the moon, which is xin-mao, / The sun is eclipsed, / A thing of very evil omen.' I always liked that name."

Sun Shuo blinked, blood from his forehead blurring his vision. He knew it—the young master admired the Crown Prince deeply, remembering even a casual remark from years ago with such clarity. But what was truly terrifying was Zhao Gao. How far did his reach extend, to know such a private matter in such detail? And even more frightening—what was Zhao Gao truly aiming to achieve?Zhao Gao gave Sun Shuo no chance to defend himself—not that he believed Sun Shuo had any chance to begin with. In a detached tone, he remarked, "Since the young master favors this name, we can simply assign it to someone else. It makes no difference."

Before Sun Shuo could grasp the meaning behind Zhao Gao's words, he saw his young master approaching him. A flash of blue light followed, and excruciating pain erupted in his chest.

To his astonishment, the few drops of blood on the ground rapidly pooled into a puddle. Straining to straighten up, he discovered the Golden Luan Dagger—the very one he had handed to the young master the previous night—buried deep in his chest. The blade had penetrated completely, saturating his robes with blood that soon dripped steadily onto the floor.

"Do not grieve. His loyalty to the elder prince overshadowed even his devotion to you, his rightful master. In truth, there is no such thing as absolute loyalty or fairness. Betrayal occurs only when the Bronze Weight on one side of the Balance is insufficient."

Zhao Gao's placid voice seemed to drift from a great distance. Sun Shuo fell silent, realizing that his death was merely another lesson Zhao Gao intended to teach Huhai.

Perhaps Zhao Gao genuinely wanted Huhai to leave Xianyang Palace to execute some scheme—or perhaps there were conspiracies Sun Shuo had failed to perceive.

Not that it mattered anymore. His knees ached, his forehead throbbed, and the pain in his chest was even more unbearable...

The young master remained silent. Was he mourning? There was no need—Sun Shuo was dying branded a traitor. Why should the young master mourn for him?

With immense effort, Sun Shuo struggled to sit upright, desperate to catch one last glimpse of the young master he had raised. But blood from his forehead obscured his left eye, and his right eye refused to focus.

He heard Huhai summon a servant loudly, then arbitrarily point at someone and declare, "You! From this day forward, your name is Sun Shuo. Remember—this name is my gift to you!"

The chosen man knelt in terror to express gratitude, yet Sun Shuo felt a strange solace. Though he was dying, his name would forever remain with his young master.

Huhai seethed with agitation. This was his first time killing someone with his own hands—and it was someone who had mattered deeply to him. The man deserved death, so why did he feel such anguish? As Huhai watched the figure straighten up, he noticed for the first time how much taller Sun Shuo was than him. Yet Sun Shuo had always stooped, head bowed in service, never truly standing erect.

Huhai stared up at him as if seeing him for the first time.

Then he watched him collapse rigidly to the ground.

Sun Shuo lay with eyes open, listening as Huhai hurried past him, then gradually perceiving the slowing rhythm of his own heartbeat until it ceased entirely.

"I wonder if a Balance missing its Bronze Weight can still measure anything," a monotone voice suddenly whispered in his ear.

"This belongs to you. Hold it tight—don't drop it again."

Sun Shuo felt something heavy pressed into his palm, but before he could identify it, his breathing stopped.

In his final moments, his fading vision finally captured Zhao Gao's face.

Through the haze, the features were indistinct—all he could discern were eyes harboring an almost demonic allure, so captivating that a single glance could make one believe they faced a malevolent spirit.

Fortunately, he had never dared to look directly at him before.This was the final thought in Sun Shuo's life.

Later, Sun Shuo discovered that what Zhao Gao had thrust into his hand was the Bronze Weight he had always carried with him.

Perhaps because this Bronze Weight was stained with the blood from his hands at the moment of his death, his ghost became bound to this Bronze Weight.

As his corpse was being dragged away for disposal, the Bronze Weight slipped from his hand and fell into the grass of the imperial garden. Hidden there, he secretly observed the palace gossip of Xianyang Palace—a delightful pastime that satisfied his curiosity immensely.

The prophecy "The one who will destroy Qin is Hu" was interpreted as a threat from the northern barbarians, prompting the First Emperor to order the construction of the Great Wall.

Not long after, he witnessed the Crown Prince encountering the younger prince in the garden. The Crown Prince, surprised to hear the younger prince addressing someone as Sun Shuo, questioned him about it. With remarkable composure, the shrewd younger prince calmly replied, "Elder Brother, you must be mistaken. Sun Shuo has always looked like this."

Watching this blatant lie, Sun Shuo felt both amused and deeply moved—his young prince had truly grown up.

Soon after, his young prince developed a passion for Liubo Chess.

Sun Shuo couldn't tell whether it was because the Crown Prince enjoyed it or because the younger prince wanted to surpass his elder brother in some way. Yet, seeing the two brothers sitting harmoniously in the garden playing chess was a poignant sight in itself.

Years passed, and though the attendants around Huhai changed several times, he still called out Sun Shuo's name. Each time he heard it, a pang of sorrow struck Sun Shuo's heart.

Eventually, the First Emperor, who had relentlessly pursued immortality, died. Surprisingly, the successor wasn't the Crown Prince who had been exiled to Shangjun to build the Great Wall, but his younger prince, Huhai.

Overhearing the attendants whisper in confusion about why the Second Emperor seemed despondent after ascending the throne, Sun Shuo understood—it was all because of the Crown Prince. The First Emperor's favoritism toward the two princes had been so clear that even if the younger prince became emperor, he wouldn't have forced his elder brother to commit suicide. And given the younger prince's deep admiration for his elder brother, he would never have ordered his death. It must have been Zhao Gao, that treacherous man, who fabricated the so-called imperial decree. Sun Shuo had seen with his own eyes Zhao Gao's white-handled brush capable of altering anything.

The younger prince, driven by a stubborn resolve to become emperor, must have wanted to catch up to his elder brother and earn his respect—like a child showing off a new toy. But with that person gone, what meaning did being emperor hold?

Observing it all, Sun Shuo sighed—his young prince hadn't truly matured after all.

...

In the days that followed, hearing that Huhai's study was constantly occupied and his temper worsening, Sun Shuo lamented that his young prince had never grown up. The little knowledge he'd secretly acquired in his youth was utterly insufficient to govern a nation. He could only reinforce the First Emperor's edicts on standardizing weights and measures, struggling to maintain the regulations of his father's era.

With no one left to impress, his young prince began to act out unreasonably.

First, he executed all his elder brothers above him. Since his most beloved elder brother was dead, he refused to address anyone else as such—a simple logic Sun Shuo understood.

Then he indulged in extravagance. Denied scrolls and swords by the First Emperor, Huhai developed an obsession with blades, amassing a collection of various swords.

...

Unsurprised, Sun Shuo watched as within a few years, the magnificent Xianyang Palace was trampled by rebel forces. Precious artifacts, gold, and silver were looted in a frenzy. The Chu army, led by Xiang Yu, slaughtered the city, set it ablaze, and reduced the palace to ruins."Though Chu has but three clans, it will be Chu that destroys Qin." This prophecy indeed came true, just as the prediction "The destroyer of Qin shall be Hu" was also fulfilled, referring to the young prince of his household.

How ridiculous that he had been so anxious back then...

He didn't care what happened to his young prince, who reportedly took his own life. So what?

All humans must die eventually.

He died, Qin Shi Huang died, Prince Fusu died, Zhao Gao also died...

The Bronze Weight fell into the grassland, trampled repeatedly underfoot. The ancient bloodstains had long seeped into its surface. Originally an utterly insignificant object, now no one would even bother to glance down at it.

When the palace chambers were finally set ablaze, fortunately the Bronze Weight had been trampled deep into the soil, sparing it from the agony of being consumed by fire.

Sun Shuo quietly witnessed the fall of the Qin dynasty, watched history drift leisurely into the distance, saw himself buried beneath dust and sand, completely unaware of how much time had passed.

Later, he was excavated from the ruins, passing through many hands until finally, someone cradled him in their palm.

He lazily glanced at the person, finding the face strangely familiar yet completely unable to recall where he might have seen it before.

"The twenty-sixth year of Qin Shi Huang's reign..." The person's cold fingers traced the inscription on the Bronze Weight, chuckling softly, "Such a familiar Bronze Weight, as if I've seen it somewhere before..."

He watched as the person smiled mysteriously, then placed him inside a box.

Enveloped in darkness, he thought, now he could finally sleep soundly.

(End of Chapter)