The Company

Chapter 44: The South-Pointing Spoon

If a person has fears, then they are neither divine nor an untouchable existence.

28th Year of Qin Shi Huang’s Reign, 219 BCE

The eleven-year-old Huhai sat upright behind a low table, gazing down at a wooden spoon placed upon it. Beneath the spoon lay a smooth wooden board, carved with various directional markings around its edges.

Huhai experimentally spun the spoon. No matter how many times it rotated, its handle always settled pointing in the same direction. Intrigued, he asked, "Master, what is this object?"

From the shadows in a corner of the side hall emerged a tall figure whose face remained obscured, making his features and expression indiscernible. The man replied in a measured tone, "This device is called a south-pointer. The wooden spoon is the ladle, embedded with magnetite within. The spoon of the south-pointer perpetually indicates the southern direction." His voice, deep yet tinged with sharpness, was deliberately modulated to an unsettling monotone.

Huhai had grown accustomed to his affected speech. Squinting slightly against the sunlight streaming through the window lattice, he murmured to himself, "South-pointer... 'Si' means to govern or bear responsibility, and the south is no ordinary direction... But this wooden spoon doesn’t point south—it points east... Master, this south-pointing spoon must be no ordinary artifact, must it?" Though young, Huhai understood that anything his usually indifferent tutor voluntarily presented to him was unlikely to be mundane. The earthen-hued spoon appeared unremarkable, yet its polished, lustrous surface betrayed its antiquity.

"The Book of Changes: Explaining the Trigrams states: 'The sage faces south to govern the world.' Since ancient times, the position of sitting north and facing south has been reserved for the esteemed. Thus, when the Son of Heaven or feudal lords receive their ministers, or when high officials meet their subordinates, all sit facing south."

Zhao Gao paused, his eyes—concealed in darkness yet radiating an almost sinister charm—glinting briefly before he continued flatly, "The imperial throne faces south, hence it symbolizes the emperor’s seat. This south-pointing spoon was confiscated from the palace of the Zhao kingdom. Others believe it malfunctioned, but I contend that it points toward the position of the sovereign."

"Ah! No wonder the handle points east!" Huhai clapped his hands and laughed, for his father, Qin Shi Huang, was currently journeying east to Mount Tai for the Feng and Shan sacrifices. Delighted, Huhai fiddled with the spoon and asked innocently, "Master, why not present this to Father Emperor?"

A cold smile crept slowly across Zhao Gao’s lips in the shadows, though his voice remained devoid of inflection. "His Majesty seeks the elixir of immortality. How could he tolerate such an object? What if one day this spoon ceased pointing to him and instead indicated one of your brothers?"

Huhai’s hand stilled abruptly. The wooden spoon spun several times on the board before settling unerringly toward the exact east.

"I have exhaustively studied historical records and deduced that this south-pointing spoon likely belonged to King Zhou of Shang. It was because the spoon pointed west at that time that King Zhou imprisoned Lord Xibo, Ji Chang, and executed his eldest son, Bo Yikao. Yet King Zhou hesitated to act decisively, and Ji Chang’s second son, Ji Fa, ultimately overthrew the Shang dynasty, becoming known as King Wu of Zhou." Zhao Gao spoke these words slowly, ensuring each syllable was clearly imparted to Huhai.A bone-chilling coldness rose in young Huhai's heart, yet he remained bewitched, repeatedly spinning the wooden spoon before him...

"And this object... not only points toward... the imperial throne... but also..."

Huhai jolted awake from his dream, staring blankly at the plain white ceiling, taking a long time to regain his senses.

What exactly had his mentor said next? No matter how many times he dreamed of this scene, the following words remained unclear and fragmented... as if he had forgotten something critically important...

It seemed prolonged exposure to the dream-altering Moon Kirin Incense was indeed causing him to recall increasingly distant memories from those ancient years.

Because he truly didn't want to wake up.

Huhai pushed himself upright, crimson eyes scanning the room - cold and deserted, exactly as it had been before he fell asleep.

Once again, he had been abandoned by his imperial brother.

Once again, he was alone.

Though half a year had passed, he still refused to accept this reality, drowning himself daily in the Moon Kirin Incense.

Ming Hong stood sleeping on the clothes rack before his bed, likely affected by the dense incense in the room. He wondered what dreams might visit the little creature.

After lying sideways in dazed contemplation for some time, Huhai finally rose to extinguish the incense coil and turned on the air conditioner for ventilation. As the thick fragrance dissipated, the little crimson bird stirred awake, first preening its Plumage with its beak until satisfied, then fluttering to land on its young master's left shoulder, actively nuzzling his cheek seeking affection.

Huhai raised a hand to stroke its feathers several times, the smooth, soft plumes brushing past his fingertips slightly soothing his restless heart.

"You're the only one still with me..." Huhai murmured, silver-white eyelashes veiling his crimson eyes.

The little crimson bird tilted its head in an adorable manner, and upon seeing its master approach the table, hopped onto it first, using its sharp beak to nudge the strange wooden spoon. The wooden spoon spun continuously on the smooth wooden surface, as if it would never stop.

Huhai stood frozen by the table. Since first experiencing that dream, he had retrieved this south-pointing spoon from an ancient tomb. Yet the spoon refused to indicate any direction.

Perhaps this era no longer possessed a true emperor, or perhaps his imperial brother had completely abandoned any thought of claiming the throne.

Was this why his imperial brother had disappeared?

Huhai clenched his fists. He had waited six months, scarcely leaving home for fear of missing his brother's sudden return.

But it seemed all this had merely been his wishful thinking.

Just as the little crimson bird was enthusiastically nudging the south-pointing spoon, it suddenly noticed its young master grabbing the black umbrella nearby and striding toward the door. It hastily spread its wings, chasing after him before the door closed.

Neither noticed the spinning south-pointing spoon on the table gradually slowing its rotation until it finally came to rest...

29th Year of Qin Shi Huang's Reign, 218 BCE

The youthful Huhai rested his chin in one hand while idly spinning the south-pointing spoon with the other, watching with boredom as the wooden spoon consistently settled pointing westward.His Majesty has returned from the eastern tour and must currently be attending to state affairs in the warm pavilion. My elder brother likely won’t be studying in the library today either—he’ll probably be there observing, just like last time during the eastern tour. Even the tutor will likely be in attendance by His Majesty’s side.

Perhaps next time, he could also beg His Majesty to take him along on the eastern tour?

The south-pointing spoon spun smoothly on the polished wooden board, leaving a circular afterimage. Sun Shuo, who was attending to him, noticed his good mood and chuckled softly, "Young Master, you truly adore this south-pointing spoon. You play with it every day."

Huhai abruptly sat up straight, his clear black-and-white eyes narrowing slightly. With an unreadable tone, he asked in a low voice, "Is it that obvious?" Though still young, he already carried the demeanor of a noble son. When his small face turned serious, it held a hint of authority.

Sun Shuo had served Huhai since childhood and understood his young master’s temperament perfectly. Though unaware of the spoon’s deeper purpose, he respectfully bowed his head and reported, "Few are permitted to enter your side palace freely, Young Master. Aside from this servant, no one else would know."

Huhai quietly watched as the south-pointing spoon came to rest once more, pointing westward, but he did not reach out to spin it again.

He was His Majesty’s most beloved young son—not only because His Majesty had annexed the state of Han and begun the unification campaign in the very month of his birth, nor merely because of his handsome and endearing appearance. It was because he knew how to please His Majesty and understood the role he needed to play. After him, several younger brothers had been born, but His Majesty, preoccupied with warfare and governance, hadn’t even spared them a glance, let alone given them proper rankings. Thus, in the Xianyang Palace, the title of "rightfully favored young master" referred specifically to him.

He knew His Majesty merely wanted a model of paternal kindness and filial devotion. If he failed to meet expectations, he could easily be replaced—after all, he had over twenty brothers as potential candidates.

So he had to strive with all his might. His Majesty forbade him from reading, writing, practicing martial arts, or archery, so he could only eavesdrop outside his elder brother’s study and observe from the edges of his training grounds. These small actions were within His Majesty’s tolerance, and he continually tested the boundaries.

But he had grown too reliant on this south-pointing spoon, for through it, he could accurately determine His Majesty’s location!

Huhai froze in realization.

He had been too young before, completely unaware of the spoon’s deeper use. He had simply felt a child’s adoration for His Majesty. Each day, spinning the spoon a few times to confirm His Majesty’s whereabouts allowed him to imagine which palace hall His Majesty was in, or where he might be touring outside the palace—whether diligently governing for the people or conducting state sacrifices. And if His Majesty was nearby, he would coincidentally appear on His Majesty’s intended path, perfectly enacting the scene of paternal-filial harmony. This was why, among over twenty brothers, he remained the most favored by His Majesty.

This time, upon His Majesty’s return from the eastern tour, he had heard from Sun Shuo that in Bolangsha, descendants of the Han chancellor had sent a strongman to assassinate His Majesty with a massive iron hammer weighing over a hundred jin. Fortunately, His Majesty had been prepared—all carriages were identical. The assassin couldn’t distinguish which carriage carried His Majesty and ultimately struck a decoy vehicle, resulting in a false alarm.But what if that Korean descendant named Zhang Liang possessed this south-pointing spoon? Wouldn't Father Emperor's whereabouts be completely exposed?

How could Father Emperor tolerate the existence of such an object in this world?

Huhai broke out in a cold sweat.

Though young, he was not as naive and childish as he appeared on the surface. Delving deeper, why would his tutor Zhao Gao give him something that would bring utter disaster if discovered by Father Emperor?

Confiscated from the Zhao royal palace... Zhao Gao...

Huhai recalled Zhao Gao's words when handing him the south-pointing spoon. Zhao Gao wasn't a military commander, yet he wore Zhao Wuling's blue silk-tied, edged, double-tailed, upright martial crown.

Could a courtier afford to wear the martial crown of the Zhao king? And this person's surname was Zhao - was it merely coincidence?

This fully suggested that the south-pointing spoon originally belonged to Zhao Gao, who must have been a royal descendant of Zhao. Having recognized through the spoon early on that Father Emperor was the destined ruler chosen by heaven, he had willingly submitted all along.

But why had he stopped using it now? And why give it to him?

Nearby, Sun Shuo watched Huhai with concern, unable to understand why his young master's expression had suddenly turned so unsettled.

"Sun Shuo." After a long silence, Huhai finally spoke, his voice hoarse with tension. "Put this south-pointing spoon away. Don't let me see it again."

...

"...As you command."

Huhai opened his eyes, no longer seeing the incense-filled chamber with drifting curtains, but rather the noisy, bustling modern world with its endless traffic.

The blazing sunlight was mostly blocked by the large black umbrella overhead, yet his body still felt uncomfortable.

The blaring horns behind him made Huhai realize he had been standing dazed in the middle of the road. He quickly hurried to the sidewalk, taking shelter in the shadow of a skyscraper. Passersby noticed the small red bird on his shoulder and glimpses of silver hair peeking from his hood, frequently turning to look, but nothing more. Most people kept their eyes forward, rushing busily through streets and alleys, each living their own lives, giving strangers at most a second glance.

But this society made Huhai extremely uncomfortable, making him keenly aware of how out of place he was.

If not for his elder brother insisting on living in this city to continue working as that Doctor after waking up, he would have persuaded him to move somewhere secluded.

Huhai closed his crimson eyes, recalling the memory fragment. In truth, he could barely remember what Sun Shuo looked like anymore. His Father Emperor's face, Zhao Gao's features - all had blurred over the long years. Even his elder brother's original appearance had grown hazy in his memory.

Time was truly terrifying, capable of distorting everything in the world beyond recognition.

Was his persistence really worth it in the end?

His elder brother had abandoned him, meaning he was no longer needed...

So what meaning remained in his clinging to life in this world?

Holding the black umbrella, Huhai slowly walked further into the commercial street.

He decided to make one final attempt.

Lu Zigang blinked in astonishment, suspecting the figure boldly pushing open the door before him might be an illusion.Huhai calmly closed his black umbrella and said leisurely to the dumbfounded acting shopkeeper of Dumb Shop behind the counter, "I wish to borrow the Luoshu Nine Stars Compass."

"How did you know... Ah! No! I don’t have any such compass you’re talking about!" Lu Zigang rubbed his nose, lying clumsily.

Huhai glanced at the gold mask still hanging on the wall, thinking it was truly a waste for the Boss to leave Dumb Shop in the hands of unreliable people like Lu Zigang and the Doctor. Although he hadn’t left his residence for half a year, he could still spy on everything happening here through the gold mask.

Of course, he didn’t need to disclose this.

Lu Zigang watched as the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Huhai slowly took a seat before the counter, every movement exemplifying the perfect noble young master. He felt an inexplicable, overwhelming pressure. This sensation of breathlessness made Lu Zigang extremely uncomfortable. Stealing a glance at Huhai, who seemed to know everything, Lu Zigang had no choice but to admit honestly, "There is indeed such a compass. What do you want to borrow it for? Are you looking for your imperial brother?"

At this point, Lu Zigang paused, carefully choosing his words before continuing cautiously, "The Doctor has already returned to his own body. Perhaps your imperial brother..." He didn’t finish, noticing Huhai’s expression had turned extremely grim, his already pale face now as white as paper.

"I know," Huhai replied unexpectedly calmly. Having endured half a year of torment alone, he had already considered every worst-case scenario in detail. He had lived without his imperial brother before, so he merely wanted to know the truth to sever his lingering hopes.

Lu Zigang spread his hands helplessly. "Although we share the same goal of finding someone, the Luoshu Nine Stars Compass can only be activated once a month, and even then, it’s a matter of luck—it might not necessarily take us back six months. This month’s auspicious day happened to coincide with the Doctor’s emergency surgery, so we missed it. If you haven’t changed your mind by next month, we can go together."

Huhai nodded slowly.

"So, can I have your contact information? I’ll need to notify you once I’ve calculated the next month’s auspicious date for activation," Lu Zigang said, having shed his initial unease. His eyes swept over Huhai’s entire figure, suspecting that this Young Master Hu probably didn’t even own a mobile phone.

"No need. I’ll come find you," Huhai replied indifferently, pulling two objects from his pocket and placing them on the counter. "This is my gratitude."

Lu Zigang’s gaze immediately fixed on them. After a long while, he reached out and pieced the two items together.

It was the shattered white jade Longevity Lock.

"Master! Are you sure it’s here?"

Across from Dumb Shop, two figures—one large, one small—were crouched by the wall, whispering. The smaller one was filthy all over, resembling a little beggar. The commercial street was bustling with pedestrians, who occasionally tossed a few coins in front of him. But if anyone paid a bit more attention to the long-haired young man beside him, similarly dressed in rags with his head slightly lowered, their compassion would likely deepen, perhaps prompting them to pull out a few more bills.Sigh, a trafficked child and a blind young man with a disfigured face—should I start a rescue campaign on Weibo? Look, that young man is even playing with a snake? Is he really a street performer? That little white snake looks so adorable!

"Master! Master! Are you even listening to me?" Tang Yuan, with no regard for the hierarchical respect between master and disciple, tugged at his master's ear while grumbling discontentedly.

The young man withdrew his hand from the snake basket in front of him and casually lifted his head. In that brief moment, passersby nearby caught a clear glimpse of his face, and gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.

Unlike his soiled clothing, the young man's face was exceptionally clean—handsome and refined, with elegant brows and fair skin, like an exquisitely timeless ink-wash painting. However, a fierce dark red scar marred the space between his eyebrows, completely ruining his appearance and evoking sighs of pity. Moreover, a black cloth was tied over his eyes, clearly indicating impaired vision—he was blind.

Yet, even casually seated against the wall, covered in dust with long hair trailing on the ground, such a man could not conceal his extraordinary aura and brilliance. Some also noticed that the young man's tattered clothes were actually a peculiar Daoist robe—a lake-silk robe of indistinguishable original color, with crossed collars and wide sleeves, embroidered with the eight trigrams of the Zhouyi arranged in a mysterious pattern.

"Your second senior brother isn't here," the young Daoist sighed softly, unable to hide the disappointment on his face. "I told you the day we descended the mountain wasn't an auspicious one, but you couldn't wait to check the hexagrams again. Sigh."

"What?! He's not here? Are you sure?" Tang Yuan immediately flew into a rage. Hadn't their master-disciple pair struggled enough? They had trekked for over half a year from the remote mountains to reach this big city, enduring countless hardships—a journey comparable to Tang Seng's pilgrimage to the West for scriptures! And now they were being told the person they sought wasn't here?

Tang Yuan urgently pressed, "Did you see clearly? Weren't there two people in the shop? Neither of them is my second senior brother?" Tang Yuan knew that although his thrifty master never opened his eyes, he could indeed see. Well, to put it in modern terms, he probably perceived things through some kind of spiritual awareness.

"Neither of them," the young Daoist replied wistfully, stroking the little white snake that had crawled out of the basket and coiled around his fingertip. Upon sensing that the God-Sealing Array imprisoning Zhao Gao had been broken, his first reaction wasn't to investigate but to find someone else to shift the responsibility to. After all, he was inherently lazy and no longer possessed the passion of his youth. Without much thought, he decided that his second disciple was the natural candidate to handle this mess.

Yes, he had always known his second disciple was alive but had never let the other know of his own existence.

Tang Yuan fretfully ruffled his long-uncut hair and grumbled irritably, "Then what do we do now? Tch, and here I thought we'd see Second Senior Brother and get to enjoy a lavish meal!"

"We'll just have to go back. It's been half a year without any trouble, so nothing unexpected should happen. The Way of Heaven follows its own rules of operation," the young Daoist coughed lightly, irresponsibly declaring he would take no further action.

"You mean... we... go back... the same way we came?"Tang Yuan forced the words out through gritted teeth, his entire being consumed by frustration. He never should have placed too much hope in this cheap master to begin with. Coming to find this second senior brother he had never met was probably just an attempt to pass off that hot potato. Now that he couldn’t get rid of it, was he just going to clap his hands and act as if nothing had happened? Let the potato fall to the ground with a splat and not care at all?

And this entire journey, they basically took buses for short stretches or simply walked! Even more tragically, this foodie master ate his way through every stop, yet never carried enough money—truly living with nothing but the wind in his sleeves! They never even stayed in a hotel! Most nights were spent sleeping under overpasses! And now he was being told they had to retrace their steps all the way back?!

Tang Yuan felt he had truly boarded a pirate ship by mistake. At his age, he should be carefreely carrying his backpack to school every day! Not wandering around with this mentally unstable master like some vagrant, for heaven’s sake!

The young Taoist blinked innocently twice and sighed in a helpless tone, "No choice, Little Tang Yuan. These days, everything everywhere requires something called an ID card. Without it, you can’t move an inch! Do you think I want to live in seclusion in the mountains? There’s nothing to eat there…" His final complaint trailed off under his disciple’s reproachful gaze, swallowed down with a gulp.

"Haven’t you been abstaining from grains for centuries already! Why do you still care about food?!" Tang Yuan roared furiously.

Little Tang Yuan’s outburst caught the attention of Huhai, who had just stepped out of the Dumb Shop. He glanced briefly in their direction but paid no further mind, opening his black umbrella and walking away.

After taking just a few steps, however, he suddenly recalled that the young man being yanked by the collar by the child looked somewhat familiar.

Huhai turned back, but the corner where the two figures—one tall, one short—had stood was now empty. Even the coin on the ground was gone, vanished without a trace.

37th Year of Qin Shi Huang’s Reign, 210 BCE

The newly crowned Huhai sat alone in his carriage. Before him lay an unopened Brocade Box, inside which rested the south-pointing spoon.

Since Sun Shuo’s death, Huhai had cycled through several attendants, each addressed as "Sun Shuo." Yet none could match the meticulous care of the original. This south-pointing spoon had been stored away by Sun Shuo, but before accompanying his father on this imperial tour, his current attendant discovered it while organizing the private treasury, and Huhai had casually brought it along.

He carried it with him but had never opened it.

He was gradually realizing the vast gap between himself and his elder brother. Even if the Emperor passed away, the crown would undoubtedly go to his brother. Though the latter had been exiled to the frontier in Shangjun to oversee the Great Wall’s construction, none in the court were blind: Fusu had always been groomed as the successor, even without an official edict naming him Crown Prince.

Huhai was understanding his father more with each passing day. The childhood admiration and reverence were slowly turning into disdain and contempt. Though he showed nothing on the surface, he knew his father was aging. The refusal to name Fusu as Crown Prince stemmed from his father’s stubborn belief in obtaining the elixir of immortality, dreaming of ruling the Qin Empire for millennia. Sending Fusu to the frontier under the guise of military training? In truth, it was fear—fear that in his absence, Fusu might consolidate power in Xianyang and seize the throne prematurely.

His father feared death. He feared being usurped by his own son.

When a person knows fear, they are neither a god nor an untouchable entity.A mocking curve lifted the corner of Huhai's lips. It wasn't that he didn't want to ascend that position, nor that he didn't wish to grasp the Heirloom Seal of the Realm symbolizing imperial power. Yet he had to admit that his elder brother was more suitable than him.

Over the years, his covert probing and testing had shattered his already fragile confidence. Ascending the throne had become his lifelong obsession, though he knew it was merely about surpassing his elder brother.

Soon, the procession halted. He rose to pay respects at his father's carriage but was politely turned away by the attendant. Puzzled, Huhai returned to his compartment, his handsome brows tightly knit.

If he remembered correctly, it had been two days since he last saw his father. Rumor had it the emperor remained in the Wenliang carriage ahead, accompanied by trusted attendants. At each rest stop, meals were presented, and officials reported affairs outside the carriage as usual, with edicts and approvals issued normally from within.

He had seen the handwriting—it was indeed his father's. But two days without sight or sound of the emperor worried Huhai, especially since his father had been ill before this.

Yes, no matter how mighty his father was, he remained human—susceptible to sickness, aging, death...

Huhai unconsciously traced the edge of the Brocade Box, opening it. The direction indicated by the south-pointing spoon inside startled him.

It pointed northwest.

Their procession moved straight east to west. Even if his father had laid false trails again, he shouldn't have strayed beyond the convoy.

"Has this spoon deteriorated from disuse?" Skeptical, Huhai flicked it repeatedly. Each time it settled, it pointed northwest.

Shangjun! Wasn't that where his exiled elder brother had been sent—northwest?

An icy chill spread through Huhai's chest. If his brother was subtly becoming emperor, then what of his father?

Two days without a sound... Could he have... passed away?

The thought barely formed when Huhai's mind went blank, his vision momentarily darkening. Though he'd long anticipated this day, he never expected it so soon.

He lacked even the strength to leave his carriage and verify the truth in his father's imperial coach, slumping breathlessly in his seat.

This was his father. Despite buried resentment, this was the man who'd doted on him since childhood, sheltered him as he grew...

In his daze, the carriage jolted forward again. Time blurred as Huhai sat staring vacantly, clutching the Brocade Box, until an emotionless voice pierced the silence.

"It seems you've realized what happened."

Huhai's pupils slowly focused, noticing Zhao Gao had boarded his carriage unnoticed. Darkness had fallen outside, lamps lit within the compartment. Zhao Gao still wore his five-colored fish scale silk robe and blue silk-tied, edged, double-tailed, upright martial crown. Though now the emperor's favorite, he showed no arrogance, his expressionless face instead striking fear into all who saw him.It was only then that Huhai realized what Zhao Gao had just been telling him, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his skin. He parted his lips, only to find his throat so dry and itchy that he couldn't produce a single sound.

Zhao Gao paid no mind to his reaction and continued in his signature monotone, speaking plainly and calmly: "The Emperor fell gravely ill ten days ago and wrote a handwritten letter to the Eldest Prince. However, this letter has remained in my possession and was never sent."

Huhai shuddered, staring at him in disbelief, yet not doubting for a moment that his words were true. As the current Chief of the Central Palace and the official in charge of the imperial seal, all documents had to pass through Zhao Gao's hands for sealing—making it entirely possible for him to manipulate matters.

Zhao Gao's face, illuminated by the flickering lamplight, appeared shadowy and indistinct. After observing Huhai for a moment, he slowly said, "The Emperor intended for the Eldest Prince to succeed him."

Huhai found this entirely expected. Hadn't he long since seen this clearly? Though he felt a sense of loss in his heart, he couldn't deny the relief that washed over him. After the great turmoil, what was most needed was recuperation and recovery. Under the rule of his elder brother, who revered Confucian teachings, the Qin dynasty would surely enjoy greater peace and prosperity.

Zhao Gao lowered his head, idly toying with his impeccably maintained hands, and continued indifferently, "No one else knows of this matter. The power of the entire realm lies in my hands. Whichever prince I wish to become emperor shall become emperor. To control others or be controlled by them—how can these be spoken of in the same breath?"

Huhai was so startled that he failed to keep hold of the Brocade Box in his hand, and it dropped onto his knees. The south-pointing spoon sprang out of the box, rolled several times across the bamboo mat, and came to a stop right beside Zhao Gao.

The vision of Qin's future that had just formed in his mind instantly shattered into dust. Huhai, being extremely intelligent, naturally understood the implication of Zhao Gao's words: among the princes accompanying the Emperor on his tour, he was the only one present.

No one could remain rational under such circumstances, and Huhai was no exception.

He could not help but begin to imagine what it would be like if he ascended the throne... but he could not picture it at all—the image of his elder brother prostrating before him and declaring himself a subject was utterly inconceivable!

Huhai pressed his lips together, and it took a long while before he regained his voice. He murmured, "To depose an elder brother and seize the throne for oneself is unrighteous; to disregard our father's decree is unfilial; to ascend the throne despite my own shallow knowledge and incompetence is unworthy. The people of the realm are no fools—how could they not suspect there is more to the story? How would I explain this to the world? How would I face our ancestors?"

Zhao Gao's bewitching eyes gleamed sharply, his demeanor calm and confident as he said, "Hai'er, you will do as I wish."

"Even if you force me, Master, it will be of no use. Say no more." Huhai struggled painfully to refuse. He knew well that most of what Zhao Gao proposed could likely succeed, but he had to consider how he would face his elder brother afterward. Perhaps the next time they met, it would be on the battlefield, in a fight to the death.

This time, Zhao Gao did not speak. Instead, he picked up the south-pointing spoon that had fallen beside him, retrieved the wooden board from the Brocade Box, and placed it back on the table. Then, he reached out and gave it a flick.

The spoon spun rapidly. Huhai stared blankly at the afterimages it left, but the moment the spoon came to a stop, his eyes widened abruptly, his face filled with disbelief.

For the handle of this south-pointing spoon no longer pointed to the northwest—but directly at him.Huhai refused to believe it, repeatedly readjusting the wooden spoon. No matter how he moved it or changed positions, the south-pointing spoon continued to rotate along with his movements.

"Master... what have you done?" Huhai was drenched in sweat. He had already guessed what Zhao Gao had done—likely tampering with something when the late emperor wrote the handwritten decree for Fusu. His elder brother... couldn't possibly be dead, could he? Clinging to a sliver of hope, Huhai looked up expectantly at his master.

"What have I done?" Zhao Gao raised an eyebrow playfully, leaning slightly forward toward his most cherished disciple. Slowly and ominously, he uttered word by word, "I did not come to seek your opinion. I came to inform you."

Huhai stared intently at Zhao Gao, feeling as though his master had transformed into a demon crawling out of hell in the dimly lit carriage.

Just as overwhelming panic and fear threatened to consume him, Huhai suddenly recalled something entirely unrelated.

All these years, his master's appearance seemed never to have changed...

The sun had shifted westward, and some shops along the bustling commercial street had already lit up colorful neon lights.

Huhai had put away his black umbrella and was walking slowly on his way home. The little red bird had long grown impatient and flown ahead to eat, knowing a window at home was left open for it to find its way back.

But why had that memory resurfaced? It was a nightmare he had refused to recall for so many years.

To this day, his impression of his master remained that face, flickering in the dim light like a malevolent ghost.

Biting the thumbnail of his left hand, Huhai felt his anxious mood driving him to the brink of madness.

No more. He couldn't use the Moon Kirin Incense anymore. Instead of recalling fragments of time with his elder brother, it only brought back memories of his master.

Yes, it was all in the past. That person had long turned to dust.

Huhai continued walking with his head down, only to notice a pair of polished black leather shoes suddenly appear in his line of sight, blocking his path.

Huhai frowned. He hated this chaotic world—it was probably some reckless hooligan looking for trouble. Without even lifting his head, he tried to sidestep the obstacle.

But the person shifted direction, still blocking his way and refusing to yield.

Huhai coldly raised his head, only to freeze in place the instant he did.

He had long forgotten that person's face, but upon suddenly meeting, sealed memories burst forth like a Pandora's box flung open, instantly flooding his mind.

That person still possessed those bewitching eyes, and his speech remained as flat and monotonous as ever.

"Well, found you," he said.

(End of Chapter)