Clang!
A crisp impact.
Sparks burst in the rain and were instantly extinguished.
The pickaxe in Fusu’s hands bounced back, the force splitting his tiger’s mouth open. Blood mixed with rainwater and ran down.
He acted as if he felt nothing.
Lifted it.
And struck again.
Clang!
Another brutal hit.
The massive boulder in front of him—several thousand jin in weight—didn’t even show a mark.
He was like an ant trying to shake a mountain that devours men.
The surroundings were deathly silent.
Thousands of eyes watched him.
Watched that white-robed young master covered in mud.
“Still not moving?”
Fusu didn’t turn around.
He panted heavily, his voice mixed with rain, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
“Waiting for me to invite you to dinner?”
Clang!
A third strike.
The deputy general lying on the ground couldn’t help but shiver.
Looking at Fusu’s not-so-broad back, something in his mind—fear of “mountain gods” and “heavenly wrath”—strangely began to dissipate.
And what replaced it was a ruthless, burning anger that shot straight from his soles to his head.
The Young Master was right.
This was Great Qin’s silver.
This was their military merit.
Why should it be buried with this damned mountain?
“Damn it!”
The deputy general cursed.
He struggled up from the mud, wiped rain from his face, and rushed to the tool shed, grabbing a shovel.
“Brothers!”
“The Young Master said it—this mountain stole our money!”
“Take it back!”
He roared and charged toward the rubble, driving the shovel down hard.
Clang!
That sound was like igniting a fuse.
“Take it back!”
“Dig!”
“Alive or dead, we want bodies—silver must be found!”
At that moment.
Thousands of Qin elite soldiers went mad.
No formation, no order.
Some used shovels, some pickaxes, some even dug with their bare hands.
The once-dead silent mining site instantly erupted into chaos.
Not rescue.
It was a fight.
A fight against heaven itself to take back what belonged to them.
Fusu stopped his movements.
Leaning on the pickaxe, he watched the frenzied soldiers.
There was no satisfaction on his face.
Only coldness.
“Move faster,” he said quietly.
“Every moment is silver.”
Three days later.
Xianyang.
Wan’guo Workshop.
This was the largest financial institution of Great Qin, and also the Dragon Note exchange center established by Li Si.
On normal days, it was bustling with people and laughter.
Today, however, it was like a powder keg.
Bang!
A heavy palm slammed onto the counter.
It was a Western Region merchant, his face trembling with rage.
He shoved a thick stack of colorful Dragon Notes toward the clerk’s face.
“Exchange them!”
“Give me gold! Silver! Copper coins! Anything!”
“I don’t want this damn paper anymore!”
Behind the counter, the Qin official was drenched in cold sweat.
He forced a stiff smile.
“Sir, please calm down.”
“Today… today the treasury is under inventory. No gold or silver exchanges for now.”
“Could you please come back tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
The merchant’s eyes bulged like copper bells.
He grabbed the official by the collar, spitting in his face.
“Bullshit!”
“I already heard it!”
“The silver mountain in the East Sea region collapsed!”
“It’s gone completely!”
“These notes are trash! Not even good enough for wiping your ass!”
That sentence exploded the hall.
The hundreds of people waiting in line immediately erupted like cats whose tails had been stepped on.
“What?! The mountain collapsed?”
“That was the silver vault! It’s gone?!”
“Refund! Give me my money back!”
“I’m not depositing anymore! Return my coins!”
The crowd surged like a tide toward the counters.
The wooden barriers cracked with loud “creak” sounds.
“What are you doing! Rebelling?!”
A squad of black-armored Qin soldiers rushed in, halberds leveled, cold light flashing.
The crowd was forced back a few steps.
But the panic in their eyes could not be suppressed.
The Western merchant was shoved to the ground. His Dragon Notes scattered everywhere.
They were trampled underfoot—once beautiful papers with black dragons were instantly dirtied and ruined.
He sat there staring at them, suddenly bursting into wailing cries.
“It’s over…”
“It’s all over…”
“The Qin Empire is scamming us…”
That cry spread like a plague.
And above the entire city of Xianyang, it felt as though only two words were floating.
Panic.
Prime Minister’s Residence.
The study was in complete chaos.
Precious porcelain lay shattered across the floor.
Li Si slumped in his chair, his official hat crooked.
He clutched a bamboo slip tightly in his hand.
It was a newly arrived urgent report.
Not military news.
Prices.
Grain had risen by 30%.
Cloth by 50%.
Even the most worthless clay pots had risen by 20%.
And this had happened in just half a day.
“Chancellor…”
The subordinate knelt on the ground, his voice trembling.
“Should we still print more?”
“The Southern Commandery is urging a new batch of Dragon Notes, saying they want to exchange them for that shipload of grain…”
“Print my ass!”
Li Si suddenly stood up and smashed the bamboo slip hard into the subordinate’s face.
The bamboo strips scattered, cutting the subordinate’s cheek open.
Blood flowed out.
But Li Si didn’t even look at him.
He paced the room like a trapped beast.
“The foundation is gone.”
“The silver mountain is gone—Dragon Notes are just waste paper!”
“Print more?”
“Printing more is just pouring oil on this fire pit!”
Li Si stopped and gasped heavily.
His face was deathly pale.
In his life, he had played with schemes and manipulated human hearts.
But this time—
he was playing with invisible wealth.
And he had lost.
“Your Majesty…”
Li Si looked toward the direction of the imperial palace.
His legs began to weaken.
“This sky-piercing hole… even if I use my entire clan’s heads to fill it, it still wouldn’t be enough…”
Zhangtai Palace
The atmosphere here was even more oppressive than the storm outside.
Crash!
The entire heavy imperial desk was kicked over.
Memorials, brushes, and the imperial seal rolled everywhere.
Qin Shi Huang stood in the center of the hall.
His chest rose and fell violently.
His eyes were full of bloodshot veins.
Like a dragon ready to devour the world.
“Collapsed?”
“Hahahahaha!”
He laughed in fury.
The laughter echoed through the hall, stabbing into everyone’s ears.
“My armies swept across the Six States!”
“My cavalry crushed the Xiongnu!”
“And now—what? A mountain?”
“A broken mountain overseas dares to swallow my national fortune?!”
“Dares to cut off my wealth?!”
He suddenly drew the Heavenly Question Sword at his waist.
Shing!
The blade pointed straight outside the hall.
“Order!”
“Flatten that island!”
“Kill every native there!”
“I want that mountain buried with Wang Li! Buried with my silver!”
Below the hall, ministers were all kneeling.
All of them had their heads buried low, not daring to breathe.
Everyone knew—
whoever spoke now would be the next sacrifice.
Only one man remained standing.
Wang Jian.
The old war god of Qin stood straight, unmoving.
Not a trace of grief could be seen on his face.
As if the one buried under hundreds of thousands of tons of stone was not his grandson.
Just a stranger.
“Your Majesty,” Wang Jian spoke.
His voice was steady like a great bell.
“One must not wage war in anger.”
Qin Shi Huang suddenly turned.
The sword tip nearly pointed at Wang Jian’s nose.
“Wang Jian!”
“That was your grandson!”
“The only heir of the Wang family!”
“Do you not feel pain?!”
Wang Jian didn’t even blink.
He looked at the emperor.
His gaze was so calm it was almost frightening.
“Wang Li is a Qin general.”
“Dying on the battlefield or in a mining pit—both are fitting ends.”
“To send troops again just to fill that bottomless pit for the dead… is not worth it.”
He stepped forward.
Ignoring the sword aimed at him.
“Your Majesty, the priority is neither rescue nor vengeance.”
“It is the Dragon Notes.”
“If the Dragon Notes collapse, the markets of Great Qin will fall into chaos.”
“If the currency in the hands of the people becomes worthless paper, rebellion will follow.”
“That chaos will be ten times more terrifying than the Xiongnu invasion!”
“Your Majesty must abandon the Eastern Sea region, seal off the news, and forcefully suppress rumors in the markets!”
Every word carried a metallic, bloody weight.
This was the Marquis of Qin.
In front of national interest, even his own grandson’s life meant nothing.
Qin Shi Huang’s hand trembled.
He knew Wang Jian was right.
But he was unwilling.
That was a silver mountain!
The foundation of Qin’s conquest of the world!
Just… abandon it?
Just as the hall sank into deadlock, as if the sky itself was collapsing—
a small figure appeared at the entrance.
Backlit.
His shadow stretched long across the floor.
Ying Ziye held a half-eaten candied haw.
Red sugar crumbs still clung to his mouth.
He looked at the mess of memorials, then at his furious father, and then at the resolute old general.
“So?”
A childish voice rang out, completely out of place.
“Why are you all looking like you’re attending a funeral? Who died?”
Li Si raised his head from the ground, his face full of despair.
“Ninth Prince…”
“The sky… has fallen…”
“The silver mountain is gone, the Dragon Notes have collapsed… Great Qin’s treasury… is broken.”
Ying Ziye rolled his eyes.
He took another bite of the candied haw.
Crunch.
A crisp sound.
“That’s it?”
He chewed lazily.
“I thought it was something big.”
He walked up to Qin Shi Huang.
Reached out his greasy little hand and pressed down the Heavenly Question Sword.
“Father.”
“It’s just a mountain collapse, isn’t it?”
Ying Ziye tilted his head up, a brilliant smile spreading across his face.
A smile full of absolute recklessness.
“Why don’t we just have Big Brother dig it open again?”
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