Chapter Forty-Four: The Peerless Ghost

When Li Yu met Ying Zheng, the king showed no surprise. The peculiar celestial signs of the previous days had already heralded Li Yu’s arrival. Ying Zheng hadn’t expected, though, that Li Yu would wait seven days before seeking him out.

Li Yu smiled and said, “Do not blame me, my brother. I’ve spent these past days hiding from matters of the heart.”

Ying Zheng’s curiosity was piqued. “And which lady is it this time?”

Li Yu made no attempt to conceal it. “The Moon Goddess.”

Ying Zheng gave Li Yu a rather odd look. He knew Li Yu well enough by now—he was not greedy for power, nor avaricious for wealth, but his weakness was beauty.

If Li Yu could have heard this assessment, he would have admired the king’s keen eye, though there was one thing Ying Zheng misunderstood. Li Yu’s lack of ambition wasn’t due to indifference; in this world, so long as he kept favor with Ying Zheng, any official position was much the same. Take Zhao Gao, for instance—his role as Chief of the Chariot Office was nominally small, yet who dared disregard him? As for wealth, Li Yu’s several wives were already wealthy enough. He saw no need to sully his name for a handful of gold and silver. Those who hoarded their money and never spent it, Li Yu truly could not understand.

“I come today chiefly for the sake of the Peasant School,” Li Yu explained. “I would ask you, my brother, to send some agents among them, to undermine their leadership from within. With their core hollowed out, the one hundred thousand strong will collapse without a fight. I have an insider in place.”

“Oh? And this insider—would she, too, be a woman?” teased Ying Zheng.

“My brother is wise!” Li Yu readily admitted without the slightest embarrassment.

“I’m tempted to bestow a royal marriage upon you myself,” Ying Zheng mused, “but unfortunately, all the princesses in Xianyang Palace are still far too young.”

Li Yu hastily declined. “Please, my brother, do not. I seek only sincere affection in my women. Political marriages are beneath me.”

Ying Zheng’s tone carried a hint of envy. “I do not possess such freedom.”

Li Yu laughed gently. “When you rule in your own right and the world bows to your might, then you will be free, my brother. But there is no absolute freedom in this world; all freedom is relative. To gain some, you must inevitably lose some.”

Ying Zheng sighed. “When I have united the world, what path does my brother think I should take next?”

Li Yu paced, thinking deeply. “The old feudal system is a dead end. History is replete with lessons—the most famous being the Tian family usurping Qi, or the partition of Jin. In the end, the fiefs can only be divided so much before they are seized altogether. For your future Great Qin, you must forge a new path, one that no one has taken before: the commandery-county system. Divide the realm into dozens of commanderies, each into dozens of counties, then into townships. The imperial examination system can provide you with the men of talent you need. In the future, you can encourage your officials to value wealth—which is why you will want to elevate the merchants. Money can grow, but land is finite, and land is the foundation of the state. Using it as a reward is unwise. Let those who serve the country become wealthy men rather than powerful lords. What do you think?”

Li Yu rattled off his ideas in a torrent, and when his mouth was parched, he picked up a kettle and drank deeply.

Ying Zheng thought for a moment. The more he considered it, the more feasible it seemed. His gaze toward Li Yu was filled with delight—he saw a clear hope for the empire’s future. Pity there were no eligible princesses within the Qin royal house.

“Would you be willing to serve as Fusu’s teacher?” Ying Zheng suddenly asked, as if struck by inspiration.

“Hmm?” Li Yu was momentarily stunned.

...

The elegant young man Li Yu remembered was, at present, just a five-year-old child. Li Yu looked at the little boy before him with a hint of exasperation—wasn’t this all a bit hasty?

“Greetings, Uncle,” the child’s soft, innocent voice was endearing.

Li Yu patted the boy’s head. This child, once led astray by the scholars, now inspired Li Yu’s confidence.

“Learn your basics well first. When you’re older, I’ll teach you all I know.” With that, he drew a piece of jade from his robe and handed it to the boy.

...

The Directorate of Works was as busy as ever. When Li Yu met Gongshu Chou again, the old craftsman insisted he leave something behind before he went. Li Yu handed him the blueprints and his understanding of the steam engine before he was allowed to escape. Lord Changping remained quiet, hunched over, plotting who knows what.

Before leaving, Li Yu had one more matter to settle: the Moon Goddess. Since it had happened, he could not run from it forever. Sooner or later, he had to face it.

He came to the gates of the Moon Goddess’s palace. She seemed to sense his arrival and was already waiting outside.

“I thought you’d simply leave,” she said, her voice dreamlike. “I didn’t expect you’d dare come here.”

“I am responsible for my actions, and I will see it through,” Li Yu answered earnestly.

“And how do you propose to take responsibility?” she asked in a soft, gentle tone.

“I’ll send a formal betrothal and marry you,” Li Yu replied without hesitation. It was hardly a loss for him; the real trouble would be getting past Yan Fei.

“You’re quite the dreamer, Chief Craftsman. But I’m not unreasonable. You needn’t take responsibility for this. However, whatever my senior sister enjoys, I expect the same. Can you do that?” She shot him a sidelong glance.

“Is that truly your wish?” Li Yu was first delighted, then realized he was being undignified. “Of course. From that day on, you have been my woman. That is beyond question. I always cherish the women who are mine.”

“Remember what you’ve said. Now leave.” With that, she closed the door in his face.

Li Yu, rather than feeling slighted, felt a weight lifted from his heart. He could never quite fathom the Moon Goddess’s mind. There wasn’t a single normal soul among the disciples of Yin-Yang.

With his affairs settled, Li Yu mounted his little black horse and rode north.

At the Orchid Villa, the moment Li Yu saw the fiery red figure, another burden in his heart was eased. He’d truly feared that this little kitten might disappear without a trace.

Yan Lingji, seeing Li Yu running breathlessly toward her, was touched by something unfamiliar and strange. Ever since that night when she’d inadvertently glimpsed Li Yu’s memories, her mind had been filled with images of his gentleness and devotion toward her. It moved something deep inside her.

Since losing her home, everyone around her had been motivated by self-interest—including her supposed master, Tian Ze. Only Li Yu seemed utterly pure in his affection.

What a strange man.

“You’re back,” Yan Lingji greeted him, her voice soft and melodious.

Li Yu looked her over as she sat on the railing, swinging her legs. The red-and-black low-cut dress showed off her graceful figure, and the high slit revealed glimpses of alluringly slender legs. Her skin was like flawless jade, her features exquisite, her eyes a vivid blue beneath smoky red eyeshadow, the delicate nose, the cherry lips—she was a vision of enchanting beauty, her hair flowing in the wind.

“It’s dangerous up there—come down,” Li Yu called, concerned as she wobbled on the railing.

“You were looking quite intently just now,” Yan Lingji teased, her ice-blue eyes curious.

“Ahem! I was merely admiring the handiwork of heaven,” Li Yu answered, a cough betraying his embarrassment.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been these past two days?” Yan Lingji said as she leapt lightly to the ground, landing beside him.

The scent of wild roses drifted from her. Li Yu steadied himself. “You must have gone to see your old companions. I told you before, I’ll never restrict your freedom, though I can’t deny I’m curious.”

“You’re right. Only Wushuang Ghost was willing to come with me; the others don’t believe people from the Central Plains could be so kind,” Yan Lingji explained, which pleased Li Yu greatly.

“Where is Wushuang Ghost? I haven’t seen him,” Li Yu asked, glancing around for the giant.

“With the promise of plenty of good food, he’s inside eating now,” Yan Lingji replied, her voice sultry as ever—a sound Li Yu loved to hear.

Inside, they found the massive figure crouched on the floor, gnawing delightedly on an entire leg of lamb. At the sight of Yan Lingji, he tried to rise and greet her, but when he spotted Li Yu, he abandoned his meat and roared at him. With no reaction from his chief, he hurled the lamb at Li Yu.

Li Yu glanced reproachfully at Yan Lingji, who responded with an adorably mischievous look that was almost deadly in its cuteness.

Li Yu nimbly dodged the flying lamb, then circled behind Wushuang Ghost, steadied himself, gathered his strength, and delivered a palm strike to the giant’s back. The four- or five-hundred-pound brute was sent flying, crashing through a doorpost.

Li Yu had planned to strike harder but reconsidered, not wanting to injure such a rare and loyal companion. As Wushuang Ghost got up as though nothing had happened, Li Yu assumed an inscrutable air and swept his hand behind him. “Any objections?”

Yan Lingji noticed Li Yu rubbing his palm and shot him a look, then told Wushuang Ghost, “All this food is his. If you don’t want to go hungry, you’ll have to listen to him from now on.”

Li Yu gave Yan Lingji a grateful glance—he really couldn’t imagine how Wushuang Ghost could be so solidly built; that strike had truly hurt.

“You are called Wushuang Ghost. Since your chief will be my wife, you’re my brother as well. If you ever need anything, I’ll have your back,” Li Yu said, then thought better of patting his massive shoulder.

“Who’s your wife?” Yan Lingji protested, glaring at Li Yu with an adorably fierce expression that only made him more enamored.

Wushuang Ghost, confused by the complex relationships, scratched his head and roared again, expressing his support for his chief.

Li Yu ignored the giant’s roar and turned to the little cat. “There’s a saying in the Central Plains: ‘Sincerity can move even metal and stone.’ Another says, ‘Treat others with honesty, and they will do the same.’ I believe that in the days to come, I will win the heart of the fairy before me.”

With Yan Lingji, Li Yu was always straightforward—there was no need to hide his intentions. He simply wanted to pursue her in the purest way.

Zinu would be his confidante, Yan Fei his main wife, Zhao Ji the motherly presence, and Yan Lingji his eternal girlfriend. As for Tian Mi—she was best suited as a mistress.

“When will you rescue my master?” Yan Lingji asked, apparently quite concerned for Tian Ze’s fate.

Li Yu felt a twinge of jealousy and turned away without replying.

Yan Lingji could read Li Yu’s expression at once. She sashayed over, lifted his chin with a finger, and made him look into her eyes.

“Jealous, are you? Didn’t we agree? As soon as you rescue my master, I’ll acknowledge you as mine,” she teased, her voice sweet and her gaze flirtatious.

Li Yu could hardly bear it. He turned away again. “Tian Ze is imprisoned by Bai Yifei, but I don’t know where. We’ll have to wait for Bai Yifei to appear and lure him out.”

“And how long will that take?” Yan Lingji asked, a little disappointed.

“Soon enough. Xinzheng will be in turmoil before long—he’ll have to show himself. Stay here for now. During the day, do as you please, but you must be back by dusk. That’s the rule,” Li Yu said sternly.

Yan Lingji seemed to remember something. “By the way, I’ve heard that the sworn brother of the current King of Qin is also called Li Yu. That wouldn’t be you, would it?” She circled him, as if seeing him anew.

“If the King of Qin has only one sworn brother, then that would be me,” Li Yu replied with a courtly bow.

The little sprite’s eyes sparkled mischievously. In a low voice, she asked, “Then why have you come to Han? A man like you, in a foreign land, surely isn’t here just for a beauty?”

Li Yu gazed at her with deep affection. “Half for business, half for you. I do have matters to attend to in Han, but they could be handled by others. My main reason for coming is you.”

Yan Lingji stared into his eyes, sensing no falsehood, and found him all the more extraordinary. A man of such power and privilege could have any beauty he wished—why cross a thousand miles for her? Was she truly so important to him?

For a moment, she was moved. Only for a moment.

“So what should we do next?” Yan Lingji asked, a little lost, instinctively turning to Li Yu for guidance.

“We wait—for Bai Yifei to show himself. Trust me, in seven days at most, we’ll have our answer,” Li Yu said with certainty.

He glanced at the sky. The sun was high and it was still early. “Big guy, if you’re not yet full, let’s go have a picnic. Roasted lamb is much tastier.”

Wushuang Ghost looked at the limp leg of lamb and agreed, roaring at Yan Lingji.

She rolled her eyes at Li Yu. “Fine, barbecue it is.”

“Master, you’re so clever!” she praised.

Li Yu smiled, bowed slightly, and said, “Fairy, after you.”

Then, snapping his fingers in the air, he gave orders: “Prepare fishing lines, an iron pot, a grate, coal, salt, fire kindling, blankets, fruit, wine, and a flute. Meet at the lakeshore two li southeast in half a stick of incense.”

“Yes!” came a voice from the air.

“Master, you’re so impressive! Will you be like this with me in the future? After all, you’ll be my master soon,” Yan Lingji said, her blue eyes blinking with curiosity.

Li Yu wanted to pat her head but held back, withdrawing his hand. “That’s their job. You, on the other hand, are the girl I’m pursuing. It’s different. And don’t call me ‘master’—just use my name. But in public, call me Fang Yu; that’s my alias in Han.”

“Fang Yu? You’re the Grand Tutor of Han? Aren’t you the King of Qin’s brother? How are you also the Grand Tutor of Han?” Yan Lingji’s curiosity grew.

Li Yu enjoyed her inquisitiveness—it was a good beginning. He walked toward the door, saying as he went, “It’s a long story. Let’s fish by the lake and chat at our leisure.”

...