DLERB -Chapter 102 Big Brother, That’s Quite the Unique Look You’ve Got There

The wind at the city gates carried a thick, bloody stench.

Fusu leaned against the battlements, his legs still cramping uncontrollably.

That white robe of his had long since lost its original color.

It was soaked entirely in blood. After drying, it had hardened stiffly, like a suit of iron armor.

His hair was a complete mess, like a bird’s nest, and his face was smeared with black and red stains.

He looked exactly like a beggar who had just crawled out of a pile of corpses.

Opposite him—

Ying Ziye sat atop his horse, clean and spotless, looking like a pampered young noble out on a spring outing.

The two stared at each other.

“Ninth Brother?”

Fusu’s voice was hoarse, as though he had swallowed a fistful of sand.

He staggered forward two steps, and the sword in his hand fell to the ground with a loud clang.

“It’s really you?”

“How did you end up here?!”

Fusu’s eyes instantly turned red.

He thought he was dreaming.

Or perhaps this was just a final hallucination before death.

But he had no time to care about that.

He suddenly lunged forward, arms spread wide, wanting to hug this younger brother who now looked unbelievably dear to him.

“It’s dangerous! This is a battlefield!”

“You’re only eight years old! Why are you running around recklessly? Let Big Brother check if you’re hurt!”

Just as that filthy, blood-covered embrace was about to land—

“Stop!”

Ying Ziye raised one small hand while sitting on the horse.

Making a clear “absolutely not” gesture.

With the other hand, he pinched his nose tightly shut.

His body even leaned backward a little.

“Big Brother, don’t move.”

“Just stand there.”

Fusu froze.

His arms hung awkwardly in midair.

“What’s wrong?”

Ying Ziye looked at him with utter disgust, as though staring at a walking biological weapon.

“You’ve gone rancid.”

“That smell is even stronger than those Xiongnu from earlier.”

Fusu stood there blankly for two seconds.

He lowered his head and looked at himself.

Fair enough.

For the past several days, he had eaten, slept, relieved himself, and fought atop the city walls. Then he had spent the entire day slaughtering Xiongnu soldiers.

Sweat, blood, and burnt flesh had mixed together on his body.

The smell alone could probably knock flies unconscious.

But he did not care.

At a time like this, who cared about smell?

Tears suddenly poured from his eyes.

They washed through the grime on his face, leaving behind two clean white streaks.

“Ninth Brother!”

“The fact that you came… makes Big Brother so happy!”

“But…”

Fusu looked at Ying Ziye, then at those black-armored cavalrymen.

His face filled with despair.

“Did something happen in Xianyang?”

“Did Father Emperor…”

“Has Great Qin run out of people? Why would they send a child like you to command troops?”

The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.

If the empire were not already at the brink of destruction, why would an eight-year-old prince be sent to the northern frontier with only a few thousand men to die?

Ying Ziye rolled his eyes.

He pulled out another piece of dried meat from his robes and casually chewed on it.

“Relax.”

“That old man’s doing perfectly fine.”

“He can eat three bowls of rice for breakfast, and just now he was still capable of chopping down three hundred men.”

“He’s much stronger than you.”

Fusu did not understand the second half of the sentence.

But he understood the first half.

Father Emperor was alright?

Good. Good…

Fusu let out a long breath of relief, his legs going weak enough that he nearly collapsed to the ground.

As long as Father Emperor still lived, the heavens of Great Qin would never fall.

He wiped away the tears and snot on his face.

In doing so, he smeared those two white streaks back into a mess again.

Then his gaze moved past Ying Ziye—

And landed on the young general riding the tall black warhorse behind him.

The man wore black armor.

Though blood stained his face and obscured his features—

That aura—

It was like a mountain.

So oppressive that people could barely breathe.

Just moments ago, it was this very man—

Alone—

Who had slaughtered his way through the Xiongnu formation and severed one of Touman’s arms.

This was a god of war!

The savior of Great Qin!

Fusu straightened his tattered robes.

Although the gesture looked rather ridiculous, he performed it with complete seriousness.

He clasped his hands together, bowed deeply, and executed the most formal salute possible.

“Fusu greets the General!”

“Many thanks to the General for saving my life!”

“Many thanks to the General for rescuing the people of Shang Commandery from fire and suffering!”

“I, Fusu, shall never forget such immense kindness for as long as I live! Please accept my bow!”

As he spoke—

He truly began kneeling down to kowtow.

Behind him—

Meng Tian sat atop his horse with his face flushed the color of pig liver.

He bit his lips tightly.

His shoulders trembled nonstop.

He dared not laugh.

Absolutely could not laugh.

If he laughed, heads would roll.

Beside him, Wang Li had buried his face into his horse’s mane while pinching his own thigh hard.

Even the Jinyiwei guards had twitching faces, their expressions completely out of control.

The Crown Prince…

Kowtowing to the Emperor and calling him his benefactor?

This scene—

Was peak filial piety.

What a truly loving father and devoted son.

Such a legendary scene—

What a pity there was no way to record it and post it to Moments.

Ying Zheng looked down at Fusu from atop his horse.

He looked at this stubbornly idealistic son whom he had scolded countless times before.

Looked at that miserable yet utterly sincere appearance of his.

Ying Zheng did not move.

Nor did he dismount.

He did not even sheath the sword that was still dripping blood.

“Get up.”

Ying Zheng finally spoke.

He deliberately lowered his voice, making it cold and metallic.

Fusu straightened himself.

But he still did not dare raise his head to look directly at him.

It was instinctive respect toward the strong.

“May I ask the General’s honorable name?”

“And which division you belong to?”

“After we return to court, Fusu will certainly request Father Emperor to reward you with the title of Marquis of Ten Thousand Households!”

Meng Tian could not hold it in any longer.

“Cough! Cough! COUGH!!”

He burst into violent coughing, sounding as though he might cough out his lungs.

Marquis of Ten Thousand Households?

You’re granting your own father a marquis title?

That’s outright rebellion!

Fusu glanced at Meng Tian strangely.

“General Meng, are you alright?”

Meng Tian waved his hand, face red and neck swollen.

“I’m fine… itchy throat… a little… a little wind-cold…”

Ying Zheng shot Meng Tian a glance.

Meng Tian instantly shut his mouth and sat upright like a spear.

Ying Zheng then turned back toward Fusu.

A trace of amusement curled at the corners of his lips.

“I am… Zhao Zheng.”

Fusu froze.

“Zhao Zheng?”

That name…

Sounded awfully familiar.

And besides…

Since his surname was Zhao—

“General, are you from Zhao territory? Or perhaps… of royal blood?”

Ying Zheng gave no answer.

Instead, he rode his horse two steps forward.

The horse’s hooves nearly stepped on Fusu’s feet.

“You fought this battle terribly.”

Ying Zheng said coldly.

Utterly merciless.

Right in front of thousands of soldiers.

A direct slap to the face.

“You defended the city like absolute garbage.”

“Surrounded and beaten, yet you didn’t even dare let out a fart.”

“And in the end, you needed an eight-year-old child to save you.”

“This is your benevolence?”

“This is your righteousness?”

Every sentence—

Was like a slap.

Smashing viciously across Fusu’s face.

The grateful expression Fusu had moments ago instantly vanished, his face turning pale.

Not because he was angry.

But because of that tone.

That tone used to scold a son.

It was far too familiar.

So familiar that chills crept through the cracks of his bones.

In all of Great Qin—

There was only one person who dared speak to him like this.

Only one person whose scolding made him too afraid to even lift his head.

But…

That voice clearly belonged to a young man!

Fusu suddenly raised his head.

Staring fixedly at “General Zhao” atop the horse.

Those eyes—

Long and sharp, carrying an overbearing aura that looked down upon the world itself.

Even stained with blood—

They could not conceal that overwhelming pressure that made people want to kneel.

Fusu’s heartbeat skipped.

“Y-You…”

“Have we… met somewhere before?”

His voice trembled.

He took an involuntary step backward.

That oppressive feeling coming from deep within his bloodline made every hair on his body stand on end.

At this point, Ying Ziye had watched enough of the show.

He pulled out a damp cloth from his robes.

Qinglong had handed it to him earlier.

“Alright.”

“Big Brother, have you studied books until your brain turned stupid?”

“You still can’t recognize him?”

Ying Ziye leapt from his own horse onto Ying Zheng’s mount.

The movement was nimble as a monkey’s.

Holding the wet cloth, he completely ignored whether Ying Zheng approved or not.

He directly slapped it onto that murderous face.

“Come on, Dad, let’s remove the makeup.”

“Stop scaring honest people.”

Ying Zheng frowned.

“Take it away.”

“Oh, stop moving. Once the blood dries, it’s harder to wipe off.”

Using both hands, Ying Ziye scrubbed forcefully across Ying Zheng’s face.

Carelessly rubbing him like he was wiping down a table.

The dark-red bloodstains and dirt were all wiped clean.

Revealing a youthful, handsome, yet overwhelmingly majestic face beneath.

That face—

Was identical to the portrait hanging in Xianyang Palace of the First Emperor at the age of twenty, when he first ascended the throne.

Ying Ziye casually tossed aside the filthy cloth strip.

Then pointed at Ying Zheng’s face.

Grinning broadly at the completely petrified Fusu.

“Big Brother.”

“Take another careful look.”

“You really don’t recognize this ‘General Zhao’?”