Chapter 14: Winning Over Zhang Liang, The Invention of Paper

“This is the young master’s prisoner. Without orders, no one is allowed inside.”

The captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard stood firm, his eyes flashing with a sharp, icy resolve.

Ying Ziji’s orders were clear: guard Zhang Liang well.

If there was to be any killing, it had to come from the young master’s own command.

“What audacity! I am Master Hu Hai, elder brother of Ying Ziji. Not even he can stop me here. You lowly servants, you dogs—how dare you block me?”

Hu Hai’s blood pressure surged as he glared at the guards.

In all of Xianyang City, aside from Ying Zheng, whom else did he fear?

Yet, this mere guard did not even acknowledge his status.

Despite his arrogance, the Embroidered Uniform Guards’ expressions remained unchanging.

One even rested a hand on the hilt of the embroidered spring knife.

They cared not for nobility or rank—if anyone insisted on advancing, they would kill without hesitation.

Though only ten guards stood there, their cold aura was enough to unsettle the numerically superior Hu Hai.

But having come this far, how could he retreat now without losing face?

“Very well! Today, I’ll teach Seventeen a lesson through his lackeys.”

“Charge! Today, Zhang Liang must die!”

No sooner had Hu Hai spoken did his private soldiers brandish their weapons, ready to rush forward.

Inside the cell, Zhang Liang remained composed, but his followers panicked.

Over a hundred fully armed private soldiers—no matter how skilled the Embroidered Uniform Guards were, they couldn’t possibly hold them back.

They hadn’t expected that, before the little tyrant could deal with them, they would be slain by another son of Ying Zheng.

Suddenly—

An embroidered spring knife flew through the air, embedding itself firmly into the hard bluestone wall, as if carving a rift in the very sky.

“Anyone crossing this line shall be killed without mercy.”

The voice brimmed with deadly intent, leaving no room for doubt.

When Hu Hai saw who stepped forward from among the guards, a shiver ran through him.

It was the very man who had slain Zhao Gao.

The private soldiers halted as well, seeing the tide of Embroidered Uniform Guards surge in like a flood, their powerful bows and crossbows encircling them.

Yu Huatian stepped forward and withdrew his spring knife.

“Trespassing into the Black Fang Prison with intent to harm the Embroidered Uniform Guards is tantamount to rebellion.”

“Seize them all and lock them in cells.”

Like wolves and tigers, the Embroidered Uniform Guards charged, binding the nobles’ sons and private soldiers tightly.

Hu Hai opened his mouth to speak, but Yu Huatian’s cold gaze silenced him.

“Do you not fear that Father will return and punish you? I am a descendant of the First Emperor!”

“Enough nonsense! Take this!”

Slap!

Hu Hai’s cheek burned from the sharp slap.

That single blow stunned him—he never expected one of Seventeen’s guards to dare slap him, the noble son, without hesitation.

These fierce Embroidered Uniform Guards truly did not regard his status at all.

And so, the fierce group was bound like bundles of straw.

Not only did they fail to kill Zhang Liang, they became prisoners themselves.

Even Zhang Liang was stunned by what had transpired in less than half an incense stick’s time.

Ying Ziji even arrested his own elder brother?

Was it to protect him, or was there some other motive?

“Prepare their meals,” the young master ordered. “Zhang Liang must be kept alive and well—do not starve him.”

After dealing with Hu Hai and his group, Yu Huatian personally brought food and even wine to Zhang Liang.

Food in this prison was scarce and easily poisoned.

Yu Huatian set the food box before Zhang Liang.

The followers exchanged uneasy glances.

This steward Yu’s stern demeanor was intimidating.

Though the Embroidered Uniform Guards had just saved them, suspicion lingered—could the food be poisoned?

Such thoughts were natural, given the formidable aura of the guards.

Yet, they had not eaten a drop since imprisonment and were famished.

No one cared anymore; if they were to die, they would at least die full.

Their followers devoured the food greedily.

Zhang Liang, however, wore a puzzled expression, frowning deeply.

He was not afraid to die, but he could not grasp the situation.

On his journey to Xianyang, he had prepared for execution.

Now, not only was he spared, but his life was saved and he was even offered fine food and wine.

This was hardly how a rebel who dared defy the empire would be treated.

“Um, brave sir, what exactly does the young master plan to do with us?”

Yu Huatian placed a bowl of lamb stew before Zhang Liang.

“The young master finds you useful, so he has ordered that you serve the Seventeenth Prince—the current Regent of Qin—as an official.”

“Serve as an official?”

At Yu Huatian’s words, Zhang Liang’s hand trembled slightly as he took the bowl.

Even someone as clever as him was stunned, mouth agape.

Not only spared, but offered a government post?

His followers were dumbfounded.

Zhang Liang was a former noble of Han and son of a prime minister.

There was no connection to Qin; if anything, it was the enmity of a fallen kingdom.

Otherwise, he would not have attempted to assassinate the First Emperor.

Moreover, charges of assassination and treason condemned even the highest of nobles to certain death.

Now, without warning, they were told Zhang Liang was captured to be made an official?

It was beyond anyone’s imagination.

“Why?” Zhang Liang asked Yu Huatian as he prepared to leave the cell.

“Because the young master said a living Zhang Liang is more useful than a dead one.”

“You are a wise man. The young master wants you to do things only a wise man can do. If you have doubts, come with me.”

“A living Zhang Liang… is more useful than a dead one?”

Zhang Liang lingered, repeating the words in disbelief.

His heart brimmed with questions, yet no answers came.

Biting his lip, he stood and bowed to his followers.

“Zhang Liang will return soon.”

With that, he followed Yu Huatian out of the cell and boarded a carriage headed for the prince’s palace.

…

Inside Ying Ziji’s residence.

The craftsmen worked swiftly; the first batch of paper was produced in no time.

Now, the sheets were drying in the rear garden.

The slightly yellowed paper reflected the sunlight brilliantly.

Though not as pure white as paper in another life, it was far superior to bamboo slips.

“Is this what paper looks like?”

Upon hearing the paper was ready, Fusu arrived promptly.

Accompanying him were several Confucian scholars.

Having felled the bamboo groves, they eagerly awaited Ying Ziji’s words.

Gathered before the cut sheets, their faces were filled with excitement.

“This... this shines even more brilliantly than silk.”

“To say ‘knowledge equivalent to five carts’—imagine binding these papers into books; a few volumes would surpass five carts!”

“Little Lord truly did not deceive us. Cutting down those bamboo groves was worth it. With this, who needs bamboo slips?”

…

Several Confucian scholars touched the paper with fascination.

Some even hurried to fetch ink and brushes, using the paper to write.

“Yes, no longer will we be burdened by heavy bamboo slips!”

Xiao He’s excitement matched Fusu’s.

“More than just avoiding bamboo slips, Seventeen… you have truly done a great deed!”

Fusu fondled a sheet reverently.

As the eldest son, he had a broad perspective.

The significance of paper went far beyond replacing bamboo slips.

It made the spread of knowledge faster and more convenient!

Once, a scroll of bamboo slips was a treasured family heirloom, and only the wealthy kept books.

The invention of paper shattered that monopoly.

“My rear garden is still too small, limiting production. These days, we’ve made over thirty thousand sheets.”

Ying Ziji shook his head, somehow still dissatisfied.

He pinched the paper’s edge and tore a small piece, frowning even more.

The bamboo paper was somewhat stiff—fine for writing, but his demands went beyond mere writing.

Still… it was much better than wooden slips.

“Thank you, Little Lord. To call paper the divine tool of civilization is no exaggeration.”

Even though Xiao He supervised the process, his amazement matched Fusu’s.

He began insisting Ying Ziji receive their bows.

Confucius himself would take lessons from children; what shame was there in bowing to a son of the First Emperor?

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

…

Many Confucian scholars looked sheepish.

They had once doubted Ying Ziji’s words, disbelieving the existence of paper and resenting his felling of bamboo groves.

Now, with paper before them, thoughts of bamboo groves and moral cultivation mattered little.