Edward had no choice but to squat down again, staring at the swaying waist of that young girl for quite a while. Only after she disappeared from sight did he grumble indignantly, “I saw that not only was there fine white rice and clear soup in that tray, but also meat! The steward even brought his daughter along to deliver it in person—could it be he wants that doctor to take her as a concubine? That shameless old man, he really dares to do anything!”

“After all, he’s a doctor. Naturally, his treatment is different from ours.”

Henry couldn’t help but sigh as well. Unlike Edward, who was full of resentment, he simply sat down quietly and took out the food his mother had prepared for him from his pouch: “hou” (hóu), which is steamed rice dried in the sun to make rations. It could fill his stomach, but the taste left much to be desired.

He could only swallow his dry food while inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of fish and meat wafting over from next door. What also drifted to his ears were the steward’s obsequious words of flattery—such a stark contrast to his earlier attitude.

This made Henry understand even more clearly that Qin was a strictly hierarchical society, where treatment was entirely determined by rank.

Not only was the food different, but so was the lodging. People like Henry, ordinary passersby, could only squeeze together and sleep on the ground. Those of lower rank, equivalent to minor clerks, could sleep in a communal room. The doctor next door, the equivalent of a county-level official in later times, had a private room to rest in—perhaps even with the steward’s daughter to help wash his feet and give him a massage...

Ah, the gap between people.

By the time Henry finished his meal with hot soup, it was already late at night. The old steward forgot to add firewood to the stove in the main room, so the fire quickly went out, and the cold crept in. The soldiers had to huddle together for warmth.

The others were long used to such treatment and quickly fell asleep, their snores filling the room. But Henry couldn’t sleep; he was still pondering his future plans.

“People have always been divided into ranks since ancient times.”

In the darkness, recalling all that had happened in recent days, Henry clenched his fists and resolved silently, “Now I understand: if I want to live well in Qin, if I want to escape the fate of being buried in a ditch, the only way is to earn a title!”

...

PS: Since Qin history experts like Ma Feibai and Lin Jianming all refer to Qin Shi Huang as “Ying Zheng” in their monographs, there’s no need to be too particular in the novel—whatever sounds smooth takes priority.

Chapter 0003: Titles Are Hard to Obtain

As far as Henry knew, after Shang Yang’s reforms, Qin had twenty ranks of nobility, from the lowest “commoner” and “upper craftsman” to the highest “Marquis Within the Pass” and “Thorough Marquis.”

According to Qin law, obtaining a title meant receiving land, a house, and servants or slaves to work for you. With each promotion, your treatment improved accordingly. You could go from a penniless commoner to a small landlord, a great landowner, or even a lord with your own fief!

The higher the title, the higher the position you could hold.

Henry guessed that, in history, his brothers died in battle because they served as ordinary soldiers on the front lines.

But if he had already held a title when conscripted, he would have been an officer with his own subordinates—meaning his life would be in his own hands. As long as he was careful, he’d have a real chance to survive!

That was the idea, but right now, Henry was only a level 0 soldier. Forget about being a doctor or an official—even getting a level 1 “commoner” title was no easy feat.

In Qin, there were several ways to earn a title, the fastest being to kill enemies and earn merit on the battlefield!

Qin law stated: “For each head taken, one rank is awarded.” The “commoner” title inherited by his eldest brother Zhong was earned by their father after several bloody battles, finally managing to take an enemy head. The price was that his poor father was left with a body full of wounds and died a few years after returning home...

Besides that, titles could also be earned through diligent farming, reporting criminals, catching thieves, or accumulating merit as a minor official. The problem was, farming took three to five years to show results, reporting criminals and catching thieves depended on luck, and as for becoming a minor official...

Right now, Henry was just a newly adult youth with no connections or achievements. Who would appoint him as an official? Even Liu Bang, the future Han Emperor, only became a Qin “tingzhang” (pavilion chief) because of the reputation he’d built as a local hero in his youth. Henry, fresh out of the gate, had none of that.

His thoughts were a tangled mess, like the heavy rain outside beating against the tiles, the inn seeming like a lone boat drifting in the stormy waves of Yunmeng Marsh.

Henry felt like he too was a small boat in this era of great change, swept along by the current. Even though he knew the general trend of “the King of Qin sweeps the land, what hero can stand against him,” he was still limited by his birth and couldn’t find a way to join in...

And so, after a night of fitful sleep, Henry got up early the next morning. When he pushed open the door, the rain had stopped. The “doctor’s” carriage was still in the courtyard, painted in striking red and black. The white and black horses were already harnessed and ready to go. Poor him, though—he’d have to walk all the way to the county, likely ending up with blisters all over his feet.

After wiping his face with water dripping from the eaves, Henry left the inn. At the door, someone was already waiting for him—it was Edward, who had told the story of “Jing Ke’s assassination attempt on the King of Qin” the night before. As it happened, he said he was also a soldier from Yunshui Township, heading to the county for service.

Before Henry could say anything, Edward enthusiastically suggested they travel together: “It’s still more than half a day’s journey to the county. Why don’t we go together? We can look out for each other.”