In the Qin Dynasty’s Xianyang Palace, the once elegant and poised Prince Fusu, known for his unparalleled grace, no longer bore that same gentle demeanor. His eyes were red as he hunched over his desk, struggling with his work.

If one were to listen closely, they would hear him muttering to himself, “Is it ‘Lunyu’ or ‘Lunyu’? How can there be such a huge difference?”

He continued, “Confucius said, ‘To learn the Way in the morning and die in the evening is sufficient.’ Does that mean if you find out the way to someone’s house in the morning, you’ll die by evening?”

“But that’s not how my teacher taught it. Where did I go wrong?”

“‘Since you have come, then be at ease.’ Does this mean, ‘Since you’re here, you might as well be buried here’?”

“Confucius said, ‘To know what you know and know what you don’t know, that is knowledge.’ So, what he’s saying is, you should know what you know, and if you don’t know, then you don’t know. Do you get it?”

“‘When your parents are alive, do not travel far. If you must travel, have a plan.’ Is this saying, ‘I know where your parents live, so don’t try to run away, or I’ll bring you back’?”

“‘A gentleman is not stern without authority.’ Does this mean a gentleman must use a heavy hand to establish authority?”

Could I have gotten this all wrong? Fusu began to doubt himself.

For the past few days, he had been painstakingly transcribing these texts in small seal script, but today he encountered a tremendous obstacle.

At first, he thought he might be hallucinating from fatigue, imagining these absurd meanings. He had rubbed his eyes several times, but no matter how many times he checked, the meanings remained the same.

He was so absorbed in his work that he failed to notice Emperor Ying Zheng, who had put down his bamboo slips and glanced at him several times.

“Fusu, is there something troubling you?” Ying Zheng, though often frustrated by his eldest son’s temperament, couldn’t help but feel some sympathy seeing him in this state.

Ying Zheng wondered if he had been pushing his son too hard, giving him too many tasks.

This child is too earnest, he thought. Even if he’s tired, he doesn’t say a word. Look, he’s rubbed his eyes until they’re red.

“Perhaps you should rest for a bit?”

Fusu quickly stood up and bowed. “Father, Fusu is not tired, just a bit confused by this booklet.”

Fusu held up a small book that featured a muscular man with a bare chest on the cover.

Ying Zheng was intrigued. After all, the books provided by the person from the future were numerous, and he had only skimmed through them before assigning them to Fusu to handle.

He knew that the workload was heavy, but after dealing with Li Si and Zhao Gao, Ying Zheng’s trust in his officials had been significantly shaken.

He was now rushing to finish reviewing the memorials so he could help manage these tasks.

“Bring it here.”

Since the hall was empty except for the two of them, Ying Zheng leaned back in his seat and spoke casually.

“Yes, Father,” Fusu responded, following protocol as usual, which made Ying Zheng sigh.

When Ying Zheng saw the booklet and its translation, he was surprised. He looked up at Fusu.

“Fusu, are you sure you transcribed this according to the reference chart?” Fusu’s face flushed with embarrassment, feeling as though he had failed his teacher’s guidance.

“Are you certain that what Chunyu Yue taught you is correct?” Ying Zheng’s disdain for the Confucian scholar Chunyu Yue was growing. He had initially allowed Chunyu Yue to teach the Crown Prince, hoping to balance the influence of Confucianism and Legalism in court.

But look at what Chunyu Yue had done to Fusu—turning him more and more stubborn and even encouraging him to oppose the emperor by advocating for a feudal system. If Ying Zheng had united the six kingdoms for that, what would be the point?

It seemed the people of the future understood Fusu’s character and had prepared this book specifically for him. No wonder the boy was so confused.

Ying Zheng flipped through the booklet. The first page described Confucius as a towering figure, 2.21 meters tall, with over 3,000 disciples, traveling with 72 of his most virtuous followers, some of whom were once savages. Then, Confucius would lecture on moral principles. Would you listen?

Ying Zheng couldn’t help but imagine the scene and asked Fusu, “If you encountered such a mighty Confucius, what would you do?”

Fusu was bewildered, picturing himself surrounded by such a group of men. Hesitantly, he replied, “This definitely seems… wrong.”

It was unclear whether Fusu was referring to the descriptions in the text or to the idea that Confucius shouldn’t bring so many intimidating people with him.

When Ying Zheng reached the part explaining “At thirty, I stood firm; at forty, I had no doubts; at fifty, I understood the Mandate of Heaven; at sixty, my ear was attuned,” he couldn’t help but laugh.

“At thirty, I could stand firm—because I had thirty men to help me stand.”

“At forty, I had no doubts—because I had forty men, and I knew I could beat them.”

“At fifty, I understood the Mandate of Heaven—because I had fifty men and could beat them until they knew who was in charge.”

…

Hearing Ying Zheng laugh, Fusu couldn’t help but look up in astonishment, forgetting for a moment the formalities of father and son or ruler and subject. How long had it been since his father had laughed like this?

Could it be that he also found this absurd?

“Father, I did not fabricate any of this. I’ve double-checked everything, but I can’t figure out where I went wrong.”

How could these classical sayings end up being interpreted like this?

“I actually think there’s some truth to it,” Ying Zheng said, clearing his throat, remembering that as the First Emperor, he needed to maintain his dignity. “Can you tell me where exactly the mistake lies?”

Fusu was left speechless. “Father, you know this isn’t right.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

Fusu was at a loss for words. Ying Zheng didn’t press him further, handing the translated text back to Hu Shu. “Those from the future must have had a reason for presenting these. I’m beginning to understand a bit.”

Fusu was left in a daze. But Father, I don’t understand any of it.

Ying Zheng waved him off to continue his work, feeling exasperated with his son’s stubbornness. “Sometimes, you need to use your brain and think differently. Don’t let those foolish Confucians like Chunyu Yue corrupt you.”

The Qin Empire had just been unified, and remnants of the six kingdoms were still lurking, waiting for an opportunity. If they didn’t enforce strict laws and instead implemented a feudal system, even if Fusu ascended the throne, how many generations could the Qin dynasty last?

Ying Zheng was frustrated. After evaluating all his sons, Fusu was the best he had, but even he was far from ideal.

As for his daughters, Ying Zheng shook his head, turning his attention back to the memorials. He needed to strengthen the foundation for his descendants while he was still strong.

Outside the hall, Chunyu Yue kept a close eye on the guards. Since the assassination attempt by Jing Ke, the guards here were all armed. Even without weapons, he didn’t dare barge in, knowing the tyrant was inside.

“Has the Crown Prince not come out in these past few days?” Chunyu Yue was Fusu’s teacher and the Confucians’ hope. As long as the Crown Prince ascended to the throne, it would be their time to rise.

He was particularly pleased with how Fusu had turned out, as the Crown Prince now advocated for a feudal system and sought to persuade the emperor to rule with benevolence.

However, since the Crown Prince was summoned to the palace several days ago, they hadn’t received any news.

Chunyu Yue had wanted to meet with Fusu but was met with numerous obstacles, unable even to send a message through.

Unable to sit still any longer, he arrived early outside the hall, only to be told that he was not allowed to approach or make any noise, under penalty of death.

Initially thinking he could rely on his status as the Crown Prince’s teacher to make a scene, he had to swallow his pride when he learned it was the emperor’s order.

Chunyu Yue grew anxious, blurting out, “I hope the Crown Prince is safe and well…”