Chapter Twenty: The Tavern Maid

Qin King Zheng, October 16

Today’s court assembly was not only to deliberate the war against Zhao, but also to discuss Li Yu’s cement, which was ready for trial use within Xianyang city to test its effectiveness.

Ying Zheng, accompanied by his civil and military officials, stepped for the first time onto a road paved with cement, finding it novel and intriguing.

Ten kilometers long, nearly a hundred meters wide—in an era where laborers needed only a bun for sustenance, the work progressed swiftly.

Since it was a showcase project, Li Yu personally oversaw the construction; the road was exceptionally smooth. To suit the trend of the times, Li Yu even built slogans on both sides of the road: “Great Qin is everyone’s home—the people’s small homes depend on it; strive for the rise of Great Qin.” These simple slogans struck Ying Zheng as especially fresh, and he nodded approvingly.

After a series of tests, the durability of the road won everyone’s approval. In an age without thirty-ton trucks, damaging such a road would not be easy.

When the assembly ended, Li Yu followed Ying Zheng into his study.

Gazing at the world map drawn by Li Yu on the wall, Ying Zheng felt a sense of unreality. The land he had struggled so hard to claim seemed so small, but a surge of heroic ambition followed—only a vast world is worthy of conquest, lest he truly become isolated. Ying Zheng remained quintessentially himself.

Li Yu said, “All this depends on the Gongshu family. With manpower alone, under current conditions, it’s unrealistic and would cost many lives.”

Ying Zheng nodded and replied, “I have already asked Gongshu Qiu to build a ship robust enough to withstand wind and waves.”

“And my land forces have already set out toward the Peacock Dynasty, led by Zhang Han,” he continued. “By acting ahead of time, the descendants of Great Qin will enjoy the blessings of our efforts,” Li Yu commented.

“Lord Changping has been quiet lately,” Li Yu inquired.

“Perhaps my brother is overthinking. My uncle is a decent man,” Ying Zheng replied with a smile.

Is that possible? Li Yu doubted it.

Since that night when Lord Changping tried to visit Liu Feixu but was scared off by ten assassin-level Net Trap operatives, he never returned to the Fragrant Pavilion. Li Yu felt he might have acted too rashly, inadvertently alarming his target. Feixu complained about it for quite a while.

Although Li Yu now owned a horse, he still preferred walking, treating it as exercise. At this moment, a young girl selling flowers caught his attention. Her appearance was too unusual—not only were her clothes ragged and seemed unwashed for ages, but her right eye was golden amber and her left ice blue, drawing the gaze of all who passed.

Li Yu immediately thought of a certain person: Hu Ji, closely tied to the yet-unborn Hu Hai, since both shared the same distinctive eyes—left ice blue, right golden amber.

In the Qin-era animation, Hu Ji spared no effort in helping Hu Hai frame Fusu, despite having no apparent vested interests. Why would she help so much? The First Emperor had more than just these two sons—Hu Hai was eighteenth in line.

Li Yu deduced that Hu Hai would be born next year, and now Hu Ji had appeared.

According to historical records, Hu Hai’s mother was indeed named Hu Ji. But in the Qin series, she became the beloved concubine of Touman Shanyu. Was the First Emperor cuckolded? How intriguing.

Li Yu observed the oddly dressed Hu Ji, curious about her intentions.

He felt certain this girl came for him.

Judging by her age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, similar to Li Yu, she was well-developed—no wonder Ying Zheng couldn’t resist.

And dressed like this, Li Yu knew Ying Zheng was drawn to just such styles.

Li Yu surveyed the surroundings, wondering how the scene would unfold.

A young man, dressed like a ruffian, approached the flower girl, brushing against her and knocking her to the ground. Her flowers scattered everywhere. The ruffian turned, glaring, and barked, “Can’t you see where you’re going?”

The girl seemed stunned, then, seeing her flowers trampled beneath his feet, crawled on the ground and cried, “You must compensate me for my flowers! They’re my father’s lifeline—please, you must pay!” She wept bitterly.

If Li Yu hadn’t recognized her, he might have been taken in. But the routine was too old-fashioned.

The ruffian, noticing the girl’s striking looks, pinched her cheek and said, “You look pretty good—come with me and enjoy the good life.” He reached to grab her, ignoring the crowd’s murmurs. The girl, as if prompted by sudden courage, darted toward Li Yu, calling, “Sir, save me! Please, save me!”

“Alright!” Li Yu, who had been keeping his distance, suddenly became the center of attention. Having just left Xianyang Palace, he was still in official attire—the title was apt.

Seeing the onlookers, Li Yu steeled himself and strode forward. “In broad daylight, under the sky’s gaze, someone dares molest a decent girl—do you still respect the law? Do you even know what law is?” His words flew, clearly immersed in the act.

Addressing the crowd, he said, “Fellow townsfolk, let’s escort this scoundrel to the authorities together.”

Qin was known for its robust, straightforward folk. Before the ruffian could react, Li Yu led the crowd in beating him down—he was soon limp and barely breathing. Li Yu quickly intervened; any more and it would be fatal.

Under Li Yu’s direction, two young men dragged the ruffian to the county office, followed by the flower girl, silent as if frightened.

The county magistrate, seeing Li Yu, was startled and hurried forward. Before he could finish his greeting, Li Yu interrupted, “I witnessed an injustice today—this ruffian assaulted a decent girl, and she appears to be a foreigner. This is an international dispute. My fellow townsfolk and I have brought him here for your serious attention.”

Though unfamiliar with “international dispute,” the magistrate was shrewd enough for the capital, promptly agreeing and ordering the ruffian detained.

Arriving home, Li Yu saw the girl still following him and sighed—she had latched onto him.

Li Yu turned, “I’ve given you money—go care for your father. His health is urgent.”

Unexpectedly, the girl knelt and bowed to Li Yu. He did not stop her. If she was indeed as he suspected—Ying Zheng’s former wife, Hu Hai’s mother, Shanyu's beloved—such a person bowing to him filled Li Yu with satisfaction. He admired her commitment to the act.

Only when she finished did Li Yu feign modesty and help her up. “It’s a small matter—think nothing of it. Go tend to your father.”

After watching her depart, he returned home.

Li Xiao Tao, dressed in a lolita maid outfit, greeted him joyfully, “Master, you’re back! Haven’t seen you in days—what have you been busy with?” She chirped a barrage of questions. Since Li Yu wasn’t strict, the maids had grown bolder and more affectionate.

Li Yu was pleased with Xiao Tao’s outfit; Xiao Lu’s craftsmanship was improving.

The Jenny spinning machine, Li Yu thought, could be replicated—he’d have to trouble Gongshu Qiu again, feeling more keenly the importance of the Gongshu clan, far more useful than the argumentative School of Names.

He lay in a wicker chair in the courtyard, pondering Hu Ji’s next move, full of curiosity.

Should he cut in?

…

Morning sunlight gleamed on a handsome youth, casting a halo. As he meditated, the white glow gathered slowly in his palm, forming a dazzling vortex.

“Kamehameha!”

With a pop, the white vortex vanished less than a foot from his hand.

Li Yu looked at his outstretched palm and shook his head helplessly. Still no luck—even the rasengan failed. None of it worked.

Xiao Tao, laughing beside him, bent double. Li Yu rolled his eyes, “Girls should be ladylike, or you’ll never marry.”

Xiao Tao stuck out her tongue and handed him a towel.

“I’ve drawn some new designs on my desk—have Xiao Lu try them.”

“Master, Sister Xiao Lu works too hard. She makes clothes alone and won’t let us help,” Xiao Tao protested for her sister.

“True! I was careless. Let’s have Xiao Lu come here,” Li Yu said, touching his forehead.

Soon, a quiet girl dressed in a Lolita outfit approached Li Yu.

“Master,” Xiao Lu greeted softly.

“Work and rest must be balanced. I’m not in a hurry for these clothes. You have time—take it. You’ll recruit ten seamstresses, paid as you are now, but your own wages will be double. Go find Xiao He.”

Eighteen-year-old Xiao He was now grown. Li Yu, seeing her graceful figure, smiled, “Xiao He, you’re of marriageable age. If you fancy someone, I’ll speak for you—time waits for no one!”

“Master, Xiao He doesn’t fancy any man,” she replied, casting Li Yu a sly glance, then asked, “Why did you call me?”

“From now on, everyone’s monthly wage is doubled. The old rate was too low—that’s all,” Li Yu said.

“And clear a room, preferably large, for Xiao Lu to use for making clothes.”

Just outside the door, he saw yesterday’s girl again, in the same outfit.

“Sir, my father heard of yesterday’s events and wishes to invite you to our home to express his gratitude,” she said.

Li Yu replied, “That’s very polite—surely unnecessary.”

“In the Central Plains, we say ‘A drop of water repaid with a spring.’ Though I’m an outsider, I know to return kindness. Please come to my home and accept tea in thanks.”

Li Yu was curious to see how events would unfold. He glanced around; Zhao Gao’s Net Trap agents were nearby, so safety was assured.

Following the girl, Li Yu’s expression grew increasingly odd as their route became more remote.

Her home turned out to be exactly where Li Yu had first stayed upon arriving in Xianyang—such coincidence made him want to burst out laughing, and it was hard to hold back.

The girl led Li Yu inside, where an elderly man lay on the bed. Seeing his daughter bring a young gentleman, he struggled to sit up and said, “This must be our benefactor. You saved my daughter yesterday, but our home is bare, and we have nothing to offer but weak tea.”

Li Yu, observing his performance, thought it Oscar-worthy—the weary face, feeble words, even he felt like apprenticing himself.

Li Yu laughed, “You flatter me. Any decent person would intervene in such a case, and as a local official, I could not stand aside.”

The old man coughed and told his daughter, “Girl, serve tea.”

She handed Li Yu a cup of water.

Li Yu hesitated—was this another honey trap? Poison was a greater concern.

Yet, he reasoned, if they really wanted him dead, they wouldn’t bother with such elaborate schemes—too many variables. For example, what if Li Yu hadn’t cared to visit today?

He closed his eyes and drank the murky tea.

It was bitter—not good tea, but the attention to detail was impressive.

After drinking, Li Yu took his leave.

The girl watched his departing figure, her eyes reflecting a maturity beyond her years; her lips curled up in a secret smile.

For three days, Li Yu saw nothing of Hu Ji, which struck him as odd—could it end so abruptly? Impossible. He wanted to see the next act. For this, he deliberately went home every night, drawing complaints from Liu Feixu.

On the fourth morning, as Li Yu stepped out, his lips curled unconsciously, then he quickly composed himself.

Acting really was hard.

The girl, clad in mourning garb, with straw ropes and a white cloth tied around her head, knelt before his gate.

“What’s happened, miss?” Li Yu asked, feigning concern.

“My father’s illness worsened yesterday—he’s passed away. Our home is destitute, and I lack funds for his burial. I remembered your kindness and am willing to serve you as a slave to repay your favor. Please lend me money so I can send my father on his final journey.” She wept bitterly, tears streaming, her grief heart-wrenching.

Seeing the gathering crowd, Li Yu hurried to help her up—so soft.

He put on a serious face. “Filial piety is the root of humanity. I would never ignore such a plea—rest assured.”

Turning to the maids watching, he said, “Xiao He, fetch two strings of coins.”

The crowd applauded.

With an audience, Li Yu acted even more energetically. “Do not grieve, miss. I need more hands at my estate; if you have nowhere to go, you may join my household—at least you won’t want for food or clothing. First, bury your father well.”

Li Yu knew the girl would likely try to enter his household, so he might as well advance the plot.

This was playing the emotional card. Was this how Ying Zheng fell in the original story? If one didn’t know the plot, it was easy to be taken in—emotions are the hardest to guard.

Now to see how he would counter.

When it comes to emotions, whoever falls first loses. Li Yu refused to believe that, with two thousand years of wisdom and all those Korean dramas watched, plus the legendary Aunt Qiong Yao as backup, he couldn’t win over this little brat.

…

Two days later, when Li Yu saw the transformed Hu Ji, he was stunned. Her graceful figure, sharp oval face, and timid expression—

Brows lightly brushed, lips a touch of crimson,

Cheeks blushing, starry eyes fluid as waves,

Fine brows and nose, beauty unparalleled.

Sunlight reflected off her face, making her skin look crystalline, soft as jade. Her nose was higher than most women’s, and her golden-blue eyes shone like sunrise over the sea.

Li Yu was now certain—this girl was Hu Hai’s mother. Only such a beauty could haunt King Zheng, even shifting his affection to Hu Hai. Likewise, Touman Shanyu could forgive all and shower her with love. But for now—well, well.

Li Yu, as if captivated by her beauty, stared intently—indeed, he was.

This woman was his for the taking.

…

Li Yu asked, “Do you have a name?”

Hu Ji bowed slightly, “I am Hu Yu, of the Wolf Clan from the Hu lands.”

“Which tribe does your Wolf Clan belong to?” Li Yu inquired.

“Eastern Hu,” she replied.

Currently, the northern Hu region had dozens of tribes, which formed several major alliances. The most famous were the Eastern and Western Hu.

In the following years, Qin unified China, and Touman led the Eastern Hu to unite the northern Hu region as the first Xiongnu Shanyu.

Li Yu believed that a unified steppe was disadvantageous to China; he needed a way to sow discord, ideally by supporting a puppet and suppressing the dominant Eastern Hu alliance.

He looked at Hu Ji, “What’s your clan’s relationship with Touman Shanyu?”

A flash of anger crossed Hu Ji’s eyes before she resumed her pitiful look. “Touman is the leader of the Xiongnu and the largest tribe of Eastern Hu. He bullies our clan, not just us, but many weaker tribes suffer under him.”

“Oh,” Li Yu nodded—she didn’t need to lie; it was easy to verify.

“Has your clan ever considered resistance? Joining with other tribes?” Li Yu asked curiously.

Hu Ji, troubled by the topic, responded, “We have resisted—but resistance only brought slaughter. Our Wolf Clan once numbered two hundred thousand; now only forty thousand remain, many homeless, including myself.”

She wept softly.

Li Yu hurried to comfort her, handing her a handkerchief and speaking gently, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

“At least in Great Qin, no one will dare bully you.” He pulled the Lolita-clad Hu Ji into his arms.

Hu Ji stiffened, squirming, unaccustomed to Li Yu’s embrace, but unable to refuse.

Xiao Tao, watching, nearly popped her eyes.

The master has found his match—how wonderful!