The thousand-year-old family began with King Wu's conquest of King Zhou.

After the state of Liang was destroyed, the Marquis of Liang was enfeoffed by Duke Xiao of Qin as the Marquis of Guannei, with the fief of Liangyi, but without ruling power. The Marquis of Liang himself was left in the capital Liyang, and the Zhang family was allowed to worship at the ancestral temple.

Apart from the main branch, most of the other members of the Zhang clan were sent to the army or forced into hard labor or manual labor.

Because the Zhang family was quite popular in Hanzhong, Duke Xiao of Qin did not dare to go too far with the main branch of the Zhang family. Sometimes he would even send them to appease the people of Hanzhong and instruct them to obey Qin laws. As for the nobles of Liang, they were in a terrible state.

Those who disrupt the monarch's rule deserve punishment!

Before Duke Xiao of Qin and his father Duke Xian of Qin, the Qin state had experienced periods of political turmoil caused by powerful ministers, and Duke Huai of Qin was even forced to commit suicide.

Anyone who dares to disrupt the affairs of the state deserves to be punished!

Ten years had passed since Liang was destroyed by Qin. Duke Xiao of Qin had thoroughly completed the feudal system reform of Qin and improved the feudal system, which promoted economic development, strengthened the central authority of the emerging landlord class, laid a solid foundation for the unification of China by his successor Qin Shi Huang, and further promoted the progress of Chinese civilization.

After Duke Xiao died, his son Ying Si ascended the throne, becoming King Huiwen of Qin.

In the same year that Duke Xiao of Qin died, Shang Yang was accused of treason by Gongzi Qian, was defeated and died in Tongdi, and his body was brought back to Xianyang, where he was executed by being torn apart by chariots and displayed to the public.

Although Shang Yang died, the reforms he left behind were not erased and continue to function for the Qin state.

Within the ancestral home of the Zhang family in Liangyi, Chencang County.

After the rain, the sky cleared, and the western sky was filled with rosy clouds.

Zhang Liu was sitting on the veranda, whittling a wooden hairpin.

After the rain, the western sky's rays shone through the branches and leaves of the old locust tree in the courtyard, scattering dappled patterns on the ground.

He squinted, his hands moving slowly and deliberately. Wood shavings fell onto his knees, only to be scattered by the evening breeze.

He has gotten used to this kind of life over the past ten years.

Liangyi is not like Hanzhong; the only residence there is a row of old houses next to the former government treasury.

The corners of the walls get damp when it rains a lot, it's cold and damp in winter, and mosquitoes and flies are everywhere in summer, but it still survived.

The courtyard gate creaked open, and a boy peeked in, beads of sweat still clinging to his forehead.

Zhang Liu looked up and saw his youngest son, Zhang Jujiu, who had just turned fifteen and was growing so fast he was almost as tall as him.

"Father, another batch of new conscripts arrived in the city today. I heard they were brought from Wudu."

Zhang Liu didn't look up, continuing to slowly push the knife along the grain of the wood: "Hmm. Have you finished your work for today?"

The boy walked into the courtyard and sat down on the stone stool next to his father: "I'm done, Father. I heard that something terrible happened in Xianyang. Lord Shang is dead."

Zhang Liu paused for a moment with his knife, then resumed its movement.

He didn't reply, but simply held the wooden hairpin up to the sunset to examine it, then gently blew away the dust.

"How did he die?"

"Tear them apart by chariots." The boy uttered these two words forcefully, "They said it was treason, and that's what the young master accused them of."

Zhang Liu remained silent for a long time, placing the wooden hairpin on his lap and gazing absently at the fiery red clouds in the western sky.

Ten years ago, the man who took over his father's seal, the Qin general who sat on his chariot overlooking the gates of Hanzhong, has now not even left behind a complete corpse.

His reforms continued, his people were torn apart by chariots in Xianyang, but his laws continued to operate in Qin day after day, like a millstone grinding grain, grinding people and laws into it, and finally grinding out bushels of grain, filling Qin's granaries without missing a single grain.

"Whether Lord Shang lives or dies is none of our business," Zhang Liu withdrew his gaze, his voice calm.

"But..." the boy hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.

"But some people from those eight great families left for Xianyang." He clenched his fist, but finally said, "They said that now that the new emperor has ascended the throne, it is the time to make contributions and establish a career, and they invited me to go with them to serve the new emperor."

Zhang Liu stopped and slowly placed the wooden hairpin on his lap.

This rumor had been circulating for more than a day. Ever since the news of Duke Xiao of Qin's death arrived, the descendants of several impoverished noble families in Liangyi had been in turmoil.

Some went to Xianyang to pull strings, some slipped name cards into the army, and some even openly gave away their entire fortune to knock on the doors of the newly rich.

Many members of the Zhang clan shared this idea, and Marquis Liang was even quite pleased that the Zhang clan members were doing so.

Zhang Liu, however, did not understand, because his elder brother had died in battle in Hanzhong while defending the Liang Kingdom.

He originally wanted to die for his brother, but he was afraid. He was afraid of death, so he survived.

The ruler of Qin betrothed him to a daughter of the royal family, and he married her, and they had two sons and a daughter.

He felt he was letting his brother down, but he was too afraid of death.

My brother in heaven must be very disappointed in me.

The courtyard gate creaked shut behind him. Zhang Liu's hand was still resting on the door. He turned around, sat back down on the veranda, and picked up the half-whittled wooden hairpin.

"Lord Liang is quite happy for the Zhang clan to surrender to Qin." His voice returned to its usual calm. "He should be happy. He is a Marquis within the Passes, with his fief in Liangyi. He lives in Liyang, and Qin officials are watching his every move."

Zhang Liu did not refer to his father as "Father," but rather as "Marquis of Liang," since he and his elder brother had not received much favor from childhood.

"Father, grandfather..." The boy hesitated as he heard his father say this.

"Let's drink," Zhang Liu said, taking a breath as his son hesitated. "The new ruler of Qin has a retinue of followers, all of whom are outstanding talents from highly prestigious families. Although my Zhang family are descendants of Emperor Wen and Emperor Zhao, we are descendants of a fallen kingdom. Even if you are fortunate enough to be employed by him, with your talents, how far can you possibly go?"

Zhang Jujiu remained silent. He knew his father had a thorn in his side that had troubled him for ten years.

Otherwise, his father wouldn't have given him the same name as Xunquan, who died in battle in Wudu.

Zhang Jujiu sighed and said, "Father, the young master speaks highly of the ruler's great talent and strategy, which is reminiscent of our ancestor, Duke Wen. The descendants of the Zhang family may well follow his example."

After a long silence, Zhang Liu slowly said, "Since you want to achieve something great, then go ahead, I won't stop you."

Zhang Jujiu practiced martial arts and studied literature from a young age, growing up listening to stories of the two virtuous men. Now, as the world turned upside down, he naturally aspired to achieve great things. However, he still had to consider his father's lingering concerns.

Zhang Liu remained silent, only waving his hand to indicate that he needed to be alone.

After Zhang Jujiu left, the courtyard quieted down. The evening breeze passed through the corridors, and the sunset glow in the west gradually dimmed, turning from fiery red to dark gold, and then fading into a thin layer of purplish-gray.

Zhang Liu remained seated, the wooden hairpin in his hand already roughly shaped—a simple cloud-shaped hairpin. He looked down at it, muttering to himself.

"Brother."

He closed his eyes, and the sound of the night watchman's clapper came from outside the courtyard wall, growing closer and then fading away. The nights in Liangyi were always this quiet.

He stood up and placed the whittled wooden hairpin into a black lacquered wooden box in the corridor. There were already more than ten hairpins in the box, each with a different shape; some were carved with cloud patterns, while others were only roughly shaped. He closed the box and turned to go inside.

Let him go; he can't stop him, and he doesn't want to anymore.

Zhang Liu brightened the oil lamp, spread out the bamboo slips, and began to check the household registration and tax figures for each household in the village. The pen scratched across the bamboo slips, the handwriting neat and meticulous.

He did these things not for Qin, nor for Liang, but only for his daily meals, so that his two sons could still call him father, and so that he could still carve a hairpin that no one wears under the eaves after dawn.

The sky outside the window was completely dark. The faint sound of bugles from the army could be heard from the direction of Chencang, low and drawn-out.

Zhang Liu stopped writing, listened for a moment, and then continued writing.