DLERB -Chapter 103 Father Emperor?! Did You Eat Preservatives or Something?

That filthy wet cloth fell to the ground with a plop.

As if it had triggered some kind of switch.

Fusu stared fixedly at the face before him.

He knew this face too well.

The portrait hanging in the center of Xianyang Palace’s main hall—

He had bowed before it since childhood.

It was Father Emperor at twenty years old.

The Ancestral Dragon who swept across the Six States and devoured the world whole.

But a portrait was dead, after all.

The man before him was alive.

Sharp brows slanting into his temples, a proud nose bridge, and those narrow phoenix eyes hiding a chill cold enough to freeze people solid.

The only difference was—

This man was far too young.

His skin was tight and smooth, without even a trace of wrinkles.

He looked more energetic than Fusu himself.

Fusu felt as though his brain had been smashed by a giant hammer.

Buzzing uncontrollably.

His mouth hung open as broken, bellows-like noises came from his throat.

“F-Fa… Fa…”

He could not say it.

He simply could not.

This was too absurd.

Who in the world grew younger the longer they lived?

What emperor would leave Xianyang instead of recovering from illness, only to run to the frontier and start slaughtering enemies personally?

Ying Ziye sat on horseback watching Fusu’s expression, which looked as though he had seen a ghost, and nearly laughed himself to death.

He stuffed the dried meat in his hand into his mouth and added another stab while chewing.

“Big Brother, don’t freeze up.”

“Father what? Father King? Father? Or Father Emperor?”

Ying Ziye pointed his chubby little finger at Ying Zheng’s face, which was practically overflowing with youthful collagen.

“So? Pretty smooth, right?”

“It took me forever to get this—cough cough—I mean, Father Emperor moved the heavens with his virtue, so they specially restored his youth and sent him down to inspect the people.”

“Just look at this skin. This glow.”

“Want to touch it yourself?”

Fusu was so shaken by those words that half his soul nearly flew away.

Restored youth?

Moved the heavens?

If anyone else had said such things, Fusu would have immediately denounced it as heresy meant to deceive the masses.

But looking at that face before him—

And then at Meng Tian beside him, whose expression clearly screamed I don’t understand anything, but I’m deeply shocked—

Fusu believed it.

“F-Father Emperor!!”

The cry was heart-wrenching.

Fusu’s legs gave out.

Without any attempt to brace himself—

He dropped straight to his knees.

His knees slammed against the hard stone road with a dull thud.

The surrounding defenders were completely stunned.

This really was His Majesty?

The legendary First Emperor whose majesty shook the world?

Rustle—

Before anyone could react—

Meng Tian was the first to leap off his horse and kneel on one knee.

“Your subject greets Your Majesty!”

Immediately after—

Wang Li knelt.

The five thousand black-armored cavalry knelt.

Even the battered Qin soldiers guarding the gates knelt in huge waves.

Their voices rose like mountains collapsing and seas roaring.

“Long live His Majesty! Long live His Majesty! Long live His Majesty!!”

The thunderous cries shook dust loose from the city walls.

Only Ying Ziye still sat atop his horse, swinging his short little legs and watching the drama unfold with delight.

Ying Zheng looked at Fusu kneeling at his feet.

Looked at this eldest son covered in blood and grime, tears running down his pathetic face.

He frowned.

Then stepped forward.

And extended a hand.

The motion looked as though he intended to help him up.

Fusu was overwhelmed with emotion.

Father Emperor was… worried about him?

He raised his head, eyes full of admiration and longing, just about to say something heartfelt—

SMACK!

A crisp sound rang out.

Ying Zheng’s hand did not help him up.

Instead, it slapped squarely against the back of Fusu’s head.

And with considerable force.

The blow made Fusu stagger forward so hard he nearly smashed face-first into the ground.

Fusu was dumbfounded.

Covering the back of his head, he stared at Ying Zheng in disbelief.

Ying Zheng withdrew his hand and snorted coldly.

“What are you crying for?”

“I’m not dead yet!”

“You are the eldest prince of Great Qin, and yet in front of the three armies you cry like a woman!”

“Aren’t you ashamed?!”

Fusu choked back a sob and forcibly held back his tears.

“Your son… your son was simply overwhelmed with joy…”

“Joy my ass!”

Ying Zheng did not even bother listening to the explanation.

He pointed toward the countless Xiongnu corpses behind him, then toward the tattered Qin banners hanging atop the city walls.

His voice suddenly rose sharply.

“If I had arrived even half an hour later—”

“Were you planning to slit your own throat?”

“Did you think dying on the city walls would count as loyalty?”

Fusu lowered his head.

That slap had not awakened him, but these sharp questions filled him with unbearable shame.

“Your son… is incompetent.”

“The Xiongnu forces were too strong. My troops were insufficient. I could only hold the city…”

“Hold the city?”

Ying Zheng laughed in fury.

A violent rage surfaced across that young and handsome face.

“You had three hundred thousand men!”

“Meng Tian left you three hundred thousand elite troops!”

“The enemy also had three hundred thousand!”

“Even trading one-for-one would have wiped them out!”

“And what happened?”

“You let yourself get surrounded and beaten without even daring to leave the city gates!”

“Where were your soldiers? Your generals? Your fighting spirit?!”

Every word struck like a whip against Fusu.

Fusu clenched his teeth.

He raised his head, veins bulging from his neck.

This was his final stubborn stand.

“Father Emperor!”

“War is an instrument of misfortune!”

“The sages said: ‘If distant peoples do not submit, one should cultivate virtue and attract them through morality.’”

“Your son did not wish to create needless slaughter. I only wished to move them through benevolence and righteousness—”

“Shut up!!”

Ying Zheng exploded with rage.

Those were the two words he hated most.

Benevolence and righteousness?

Could that feed people?

Or stop Xiongnu blades?

Ying Zheng’s hand gripped the sword hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white.

If Fusu were not his biological son, that sword would already have come down.

“Move them?”

“You were going to recite the Analects to the Xiongnu?”

“Go ask Touman—the one whose arm got chopped off—whether he can even understand it!”

“Idiot!”

“An utterly hopeless idiot!!”

The more Ying Zheng cursed, the angrier he became.

He lifted his foot, preparing to kick him.

Fusu closed his eyes, neck stiffened, looking exactly like someone thinking Even if you beat me to death, I’m still right.

This was the perfect student raised by rotten Confucian scholars.

Stubborn, rigid, and impossible to change.

Just as Ying Zheng’s boot was about to make intimate contact with Fusu’s face—

A small hand suddenly reached out.

And grabbed Ying Zheng’s robe.

“Dad, calm down.”

“These are genuine leather boots. It’d be a shame if they got damaged.”

Ying Ziye jumped down from the horse.

Smiling, he stepped between the two of them.

Ying Zheng took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his anger.

“You’re defending him too?”

“If an idiot like this isn’t beaten awake, Great Qin will sooner or later be ruined by his hands!”

Ying Ziye shook his head.

Then walked over to Fusu.

At this moment, Fusu was still kneeling on the ground, his face filled with grievance and stubbornness.

“Big Brother.”

Ying Ziye crouched down until his eyes were level with Fusu’s.

“You think you did nothing wrong, don’t you?”

“You think you stayed behind the walls for the people’s sake, to avoid more deaths, right?”

Fusu said nothing.

But the look in his eyes clearly answered yes.

“Fine.”

Ying Ziye nodded.

He stood up and dusted off his hands.

Then—

He grabbed Fusu by the collar.

For an eight-year-old child, his strength was terrifying.

“Get up.”

Ying Ziye’s voice was quiet.

But it carried an undeniable coldness.

Fusu was forcibly yanked to his feet, stumbling awkwardly.

“Ninth Brother, what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Ying Ziye did not release him.

Dragging Fusu like a sack of rags, he pulled him toward the city.

“Since Big Brother thinks benevolence and righteousness are invincible—”

“Then let’s go take a look.”

“Let’s see exactly how many people your damned benevolence actually saved.”

“Where are we going?” Fusu struggled.

“To the wounded soldiers’ camp.”

Ying Ziye never turned his head back.

His steps only grew faster.

“Don’t faint on me. Keep your eyes wide open.”

“Take a good look.”

Ying Ziye glanced back over his shoulder.

That innocent, childlike face now carried a chilling mockery.

“At how all the water inside your brain…”

“Turned into all this blood on the ground.”