When people were in Qin, they captured Zhao and questioned Qin.

Chapter 13 Great Ambition

The air in the dining hall seemed to freeze.

Madam Fu was also taken aback and couldn't help but look at Zhao Heng. The maid holding the fan beside her also paused, the palm-leaf fan stopping at a certain angle, forgetting to wave it.

Han's face turned pale instantly.

"They...they're still going to look for that Qin hostage?"

"Yes."

Madam Han cried out urgently, "No! Today's disaster is all his fault. If it weren't for the palace..." She recalled Gao Qu's face during the day, and his sharp words, and was filled with anger and fear. She could barely speak coherently. "Heng'er, listen to your mother, don't take any more risks!"

Although Madam Fu did not speak, her brows were furrowed, clearly indicating that she did not approve of the matter. At least on the surface, she had to stand on the side of the Han family.

Zhao Heng waited quietly for his mother to finish speaking.

He didn't immediately defend himself, but simply let Madam Han hold his hand until his anxious emotions subsided and the dining hall became quiet again, leaving only Madam Han's suppressed breathing.

Then he slowly said, "Mother, I know you're worried. But some things can't be avoided by hiding."

Han was taken aback.

Zhao Heng continued, "Why did Gao Qu dare to act so arrogantly in the mansion today? Because his father is not here, because his son is young, because his mother is a Han woman... In some people's eyes, the Chunping Jun mansion is already a mansion without a master, a mansion that can be bullied."

These words were blunt, piercing Han's deepest anxieties. Her lips trembled; she wanted to refute, to say "that's not how it is," but the words wouldn't come out.

Because she knew that what her son said was true.

Over the years, the mansion has become increasingly deserted, invitations to banquets are rare, and gifts exchanged during festivals are infrequent... She wasn't unaware of these subtle changes, but she simply didn't want to think about them deeply, nor dared to.

"On the surface, the incident of the drowning was caused by the Qin hostage," Zhao Heng said, changing the subject. "But Mother, think about it carefully: why did those young men from Handan appear in that particular place on that day? Why did they rush in and then quickly disperse? And why were there no traces left after the investigation?"

He looked at Han: "Was this really just an accident?"

Fu's mother's eyes sharpened instantly.

Han was stunned.

She had never thought of it that way.

In her view, her son fell into the water because he was naughty, because he associated with the wrong people, and because he was unlucky enough to run into the wandering knight-errant... It was completely an unfortunate accident.

But Zhao Heng's words...

"Mother," Zhao Heng's voice softened as he reassured her, "Father is far away in Xianyang, and his return date is uncertain. The Chunping Lord's residence is in Handan; we can't rely on 'hiding' forever. We may have escaped Gao Qu today, but what about tomorrow? And the day after?"

"I..." Mrs. Han spoke subconsciously, only to realize that she had absolutely no words to argue with her son.

Zhao Heng smiled.

He gently patted the back of Han's hand that was holding his.

"Mother, after I awoke, it seemed as if I knew many things I didn't know before, and perhaps never will. I thought about many things, but I couldn't understand them; it was like a tangled mess. Only today, when I rejected the eunuch's order and presented the silk to the retainer, did I suddenly understand some things. As the saying goes, 'A true man should observe the situation before it arises.'"

He paused, making sure Madam Han and Madam Fu heard him clearly, before continuing, "Therefore, I believe that although Qin is a tiger and wolf, its son is worth befriending; although Zhao is our homeland, its problems should be investigated; if the Zhao dynasty does not prosper, it will surely perish at the hands of Qin."

Twenty-four characters fell into the quiet dining hall.

The maid holding the fan forgot to wave it.

Her eyes widened, and the palm-leaf fan in her hand tilted, the breeze ceasing. Mosquitoes seized the opportunity to swarm closer, buzzing and swirling around her cheeks, but she remained completely unaware.

Madam Han stared at her son with her mouth agape, her eyes swirling with emotions of shock, shock, and more shock.

She suddenly understood.

My son is no longer a child.

He was not willful, nor unruly, nor acting on a whim. He had a profound understanding of the world and a vision of its landscape; he was not concerned with the food and drink before him, nor with the confines of his own mansion.

He was looking at something much farther away.

It's "potential". It's "nascent". It's those things she doesn't understand.

but……

"But Heng'er..." Her voice trembled, and tears finally streamed down her face, "Those things were too dangerous... You're only eleven years old, your mother only asks for your safety..."

She looked to her mother for help, hoping that this loyal servant who had accompanied her as she grew up, and who was more like a sister than a servant, could say something, could persuade her son, and could help her pull this child who was suddenly about to spread his wings back to the safe nest.

Mother Fu was also watching Zhao Heng the whole time.

In fact, she recognized reality much earlier than Han.

From Zhao Heng's words about "the dignity of retainers" outside his study at noon, to his logical and reasoned rebuttal of Gao Qu in the front hall, to his thoughtful considerations of "one overt, one covert" when arranging the silk, and now, his statement about "observing the general trend before it emerges"—

The last vestige of doubt in her heart finally vanished completely.

Since the departure of Jun Chunping to Qin as a hostage, this mansion has been silent for far too long. Like a ship without a helmsman, it sways in the storm, relying solely on Han's frail persistence and the meager support of this servant woman.

But now, the helmsman has returned.

He may be young or inexperienced, but he has direction, decisiveness, and a power beyond his years that commands respect.

So when Madam Han looked at her, Madam Fu took a deep breath.

She didn't speak, but slowly took two steps back.

She stepped back to the side of Han's seat and stood still. Then she began to straighten her clothes. In fact, her clothes were already neat and without any wrinkles, but she still raised her hand to straighten the collar and smooth the cuffs.

Then, she turned to Zhao Heng.

It wasn't the Han family, it was Zhao Heng.

They bowed down in solemn reverence.

This set of movements is very solemn and is different from a simple kneeling ceremony. It involves kneeling on both knees, bending down, placing the hands together in front of the body, and slowly touching the forehead to the ground.

This is the most solemn kowtow, a grand gesture from a subject to his monarch, or from a retainer to his lord.

She remained kneeling for a long time before straightening up, still kneeling, and looking up at Zhao Heng.

"Since you, my lord, have such a heart and such ambition, it is a blessing for our lord and for the state of Zhao. We, your servants, certainly wish it so."

The phrase "固所愿也" can be simply explained as "This is what we have been hoping for." To put it even more bluntly, it means "We have been waiting for this day for a very long time."

To put it more bluntly, she acknowledged the young master's judgment and choice, and was willing to serve him.

After a moment of stunned silence, the maids hurriedly knelt down, dropping their palm-leaf fans on the ground without even bothering to pick them up.

The dining hall fell silent for a moment.

Madam Han glanced at the kneeling Fu's mother, then at her seated son.

She was not a dull person, but she had lived a secluded life for many years and was also confined by her identity as a mother and the wife of the Qin king. Her vision was limited to the high walls of the mansion, and her thoughts were nothing more than daily necessities and the safety of her son.

But at this moment, it seems that a corner of the wall has collapsed.

Light streamed in, dazzling, yet illuminating things she had never seen clearly before.

She suddenly realized that it wasn't that her son had left her, but that she had to let go and let this child, who had grown wings, fly the path he was meant to fly.

Even if the road ahead is full of storms and dangers.

She suddenly grasped Zhao Heng's hand again.

"Heng'er..." Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time it wasn't fear, but rather a kind of decision.

She gritted her teeth, her voice squeezed out from between them, tinged with tears but also with a fierce edge: "I don't know how long it will be before your father returns to Zhao. All these years, your mother has only prayed that you grow up safely, and I dare not think of anything else..."

She wiped away her tears forcefully, the movement somewhat flustered, but her tone became unusually firm: "But if you feel that there are things that must be done, and some paths that must be walked, then as a mother, there is neither reason to stop you, nor... can I stop you."

She took a deep breath, as if exhaling all the hesitation in her chest:

"Then go and do it. Your mother... though she is a woman without much ability, she can still... protect you. In this mansion, in this home, as long as your mother is here, she will be your support."

Zhao Heng had not expected the reaction to be so intense.

His original intention was to lay the groundwork for subsequent actions and, incidentally, test Han's attitude. He needed to know where his mother's bottom line was, how much freedom and support she could give him.

But at this moment, Han's resolute decision and Fu's mother's kneeling exceeded expectations.

He paused for a moment, then quickly stood up, walked around the table, and stood in front of Madam Han, bowing respectfully.

"Thank you, Mother."

Madam Han supported him, preventing him from kneeling down. Her hands were still trembling, but she gripped her son's arm tightly.

"We're family," she shook her head, tears welling up again, "let's not talk about these things."

Zhao Heng quickly turned around and went to help his mother.

"Please rise, Madam Fu. My child's words are not to be taken seriously. Please get up."

Madam Fu stood up, but her expression showed no sign of relaxation.

She simply turned to the maid and solemnly said, "The words spoken by the young master today, having come from his mouth, are to be heard by us. Not a single word may be divulged from him. If even the slightest leak occurs, you all know the rules of the manor."

The maids prostrated themselves in agreement, their voices trembling: "Yes."

Zhao Heng opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately swallowed it back.

Some things get worse the more you try to explain them. Some misunderstandings are more useful than the truth.

Since Madam Fu regarded this statement as a declaration of "great ambition," and Madam Han regarded it as the "path ahead" that her child had to take, then let them think so.

Sometimes, a well-timed misunderstanding can save countless explanations and even gather unexpected strength.

He sat back down at his table and picked up his chopsticks again, only to see that Madam Han had already placed a piece of roasted meat in his bowl and said, "The food is getting cold, eat quickly."

Zhao Heng smiled, picked up his own chopsticks, and placed a piece of green onion in Han's bowl.

"My mother uses it too," he said.

It was completely dark outside the window.