DLERB -Chapter 22 The Chancellor’s Hair Turned White Overnight! This Young Master Has Prepared a Gift for You All!

At the Xianyang execution grounds.

The morning wind blew past, unable to stir even a speck of dust, only making the thick smell of blood even more pungent.

Ying Ziye looked at the collapsed Li Si and spoke in his childish voice.

“Now, Chancellor, it’s time for you to do something for me.”

Li Si’s body trembled as he struggled to raise his head, his eyes bloodshot.

Looking at the innocent little face before him, his throat felt dry.

“Young Master… please reconsider.”

Qinglong stepped forward and tossed two blank bamboo scrolls before Li Si.

Ying Ziye’s voice rang out again, sounding as though a child were assigning game tasks.

“One of them is for writing a self-condemnation decree.”

“Write that, as Chancellor, you failed to judge people properly, causing turmoil throughout the court and rivers of blood in Xianyang.”

“All relatives of the rebels, totaling 3,421 people, should by law be executed along with their clans.”

Li Si’s pupils widened, his lips trembling as meaningless sounds escaped them.

“N-no… impossible… Young Master! This would shake the foundation of the nation!”

Ying Ziye acted as though he hadn’t heard him and pointed to the other scroll.

“The other one is for writing an amnesty decree.”

He counted carefully on his soft little fingers.

“All participants in the rebellion shall have their property confiscated and be demoted to slave status to build the Great Wall.”

“As for their family members, regardless of age or gender, all shall be pardoned.”

“At the same time, the government will open the granaries—no, the divine granaries—to provide relief to all citizens of the city.”

“And inside the divine granary…”

He kicked the large chest beside him containing the potatoes.

“…will be this.”

“Tell them this is a divine treasure bestowed upon Great Qin by the heavens, called the ‘potato,’ with a yield of five thousand jin per mu.”

“With it, the people of Great Qin will never know famine again.”

After speaking, Ying Ziye smiled brightly at Li Si.

“There are two decrees. Once you finish writing one of them, I’ll stamp it with the imperial seal.”

“Which one you write is your choice, Chancellor.”

“Before dawn, I want to see your answer.”

Li Si froze in place, his mind completely blank.

One choice was hell.

The other was a deeper hell disguised in the clothing of paradise.

At last, he understood.

This little ancestor wanted him to make the choice personally.

No matter which option he chose, Li Si would forever become an extension of the Ninth Young Master’s will.

His lips quivered as he tried to struggle one final time.

“Young Master, implicating so many families will empty the court; and this divine treasure… it is too shocking to the world. If announced rashly, it may attract the greed of all under heaven…”

Ying Ziye interrupted him, the smile never leaving his face.

“Chancellor, what you care about…”

“Is it your own foundation, or Great Qin’s foundation?”

That single sentence pierced through every layer of Li Si’s disguise like a dagger.

Qinglong stepped half a pace forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

Li Si shuddered violently, every word stuck in his throat.

He collapsed weakly beside the pool of blood, staring at the two bamboo scrolls as though he were looking at his own divided soul.

That night, he did not sleep.

…

At last, dawn arrived.

Outside Qilin Hall, the hundred officials had assembled.

But today, the square was so silent that a falling needle could be heard.

No one whispered to another. Every official kept their head lowered, though the corners of their eyes involuntarily drifted toward the distant execution grounds.

The smell of blood could still be clearly sensed even from this far away.

Mountains of corpses.

Seas of blood.

This was the first “court gift” the eight-year-old Regent had presented to them.

Several elderly civil officials looked deathly pale, their legs trembling so badly they could barely stand.

In one corner, several young officials wearing Confucian hats gathered together and whispered in low voices.

“This has gone too far! It’s outright tyranny!”

“Lord Chunyu’s body isn’t even cold yet. How can we stand by and do nothing?”

“That’s right! Let us jointly submit a memorial and remonstrate unto death!”

Nearby, an old minister with white hair and beard shot them a cold glance.

“Remonstrate unto death?”

His voice was quiet, yet the group stiffened instantly.

“Lord Chunyu’s head is still hanging from the flagpole watching you.”

“Do you want to accompany him?”

The young officials immediately fell silent, their faces turning from red to white.

Elsewhere, Meng Yi paced anxiously while whispering to Wang Jian beside him.

“Old General, if this continues, the court will truly be finished!”

Wang Jian kept his eyes closed without moving.

“What’s the rush?”

At that moment, a disturbance spread through the crowd.

Two Jinyiwei, one on each side, were “supporting” a man as they walked toward the palace gates.

It was Chancellor Li Si.

When the officials saw him clearly, they all sucked in a cold breath.

After only one night apart, the Great Qin Chancellor—once powerful enough to dominate the court—looked as though all vitality had been drained from his body.

His robes were disheveled, his hair messy and unkempt, now streaked with countless strands of white.

The face that once carried unquestionable authority was now covered in deep lines, his eyes hollow and lifeless, as though he had aged twenty years overnight.

As he passed the group of young officials, one of them stumbled in shock and nearly fell.

Li Si’s hollow eyes slowly turned toward him mechanically.

The official felt like a frog being stared at by a venomous snake. His legs gave out instantly, and he collapsed to the floor as a wet stain rapidly spread across his pants.

The surrounding officials became even more terrified.

“Creak—”

The heavy palace doors slowly opened.

A faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the sweet aroma of food drifted out from inside the hall.

Suppressing the terror in their hearts, the officials filed into the palace one after another.

Inside the grand hall, the windows were bright and spotless. There were no axe-wielding executioners as they had imagined.

There was only that small figure.

Ying Ziye sat atop the lofty dragon throne, his two short legs dangling in the air and swinging back and forth.

In his hands was a small white jade bowl. Using an exquisite silver spoon, he was slowly sipping lotus seed soup from it mouthful by mouthful.

That obedient and adorable appearance formed an indescribably strange contrast with the suffocating atmosphere outside the hall.

The officials all knelt and saluted, shouting in unison, “Ten thousand years to the Young Master!”

Not one of them dared raise their head.

All they could hear was the crisp clinking of the spoon against the jade bowl, along with the satisfied swallowing sounds of that little ancestor.

Each sound struck their hearts like a heavy hammer.

Suddenly, Ying Ziye stopped eating.

“This lotus seed soup didn’t have the lotus cores cleaned properly. It’s a little bitter.”

He complained in his childish voice.

The young eunuch serving nearby instantly went weak in the legs and dropped to his knees with a loud thud.

“Spare me, Young Master! Spare me! This servant deserves death!”

The eunuch kowtowed frantically, his forehead swelling red almost immediately.

Ying Ziye smiled brightly and waved his hand.

“Forget it. I’m in a good mood today, so I won’t blame you. Get up.”

The eunuch shakily climbed back to his feet and stood to the side, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

This display of “magnanimity” made the already icy atmosphere in the hall grow even colder.

Finally, Ying Ziye set down the jade bowl and smacked his lips as though still unsatisfied.

He picked up a silk cloth nearby and wiped the corner of his mouth.

“My dear ministers, did you all sleep well last night?”

His childish voice echoed through the grand hall.

Dead silence filled the chamber.

A pin drop could be heard.

Who dared say they slept well?

And who dared say they did not?

When no answer came, Ying Ziye did not mind and simply continued speaking to himself.

“I slept wonderfully last night.”

“I even had a dream that every household in Xianyang had enough food to eat.”

He spoke with a cheerful smile, but suddenly his gaze landed on Wang Jian, leader of the military officials.

“Old General Wang, tell me—wasn’t my dream wonderful?”

Wang Jian’s body paused slightly before he slowly stepped forward.

Bowing respectfully, he answered in a steady voice,

“The Young Master carries the people in his heart. This is a blessing for Great Qin.”

The reply was flawless, yet everyone could hear the forced undertone within it.

At that moment, a white-haired imperial censor stepped out trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind.

“Reporting… reporting to the Regent Young Master…”

Tears streamed down his face as his hoarse voice shook.

“Last night’s slaughter implicated far too many! Captain Zhang Meng of the western district was loyally devoted to Great Qin. His son merely went out to watch the commotion, yet… yet he lost his head as well! Such indiscriminate killing may cost us all the hearts of the people!”

He could not continue speaking.

Because Qinglong, standing beside the dragon throne, merely took one step forward.

He did not draw his blade.

He did not shout.

It was only a single movement.

Yet the old censor instantly became like a chicken whose throat had been seized. Every remaining word stuck in his mouth.

His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor with a thud, then raised his own hands and viciously slapped himself twice across the face.

“I spoke nonsense! This old minister is blind with age! I deserve death!”

He kowtowed until blood flowed from his forehead, yet still did not dare stop.

Within the great hall, the invisible terror instantly swelled to its peak.

Watching the scene, Ying Ziye still wore that innocent and radiant smile.

Tilting his little head, he swept his gaze across the kneeling civil and military officials below.

“I know what everyone is thinking.”

His childish voice clearly reached every ear.

“You all think I’ve killed too many people—that I’m some little tyrant, right?”

The instant those words were spoken, the very air inside the hall seemed to freeze.

The officials’ bodies stiffened like iron.

It’s over.

Now he’s going to settle the accounts!

Looking at their terrified expressions, Ying Ziye seemed to find it amusing.

Suddenly, he clapped his hands.

The crisp sound echoed through the hall.

“Guards.”

“Bring forth the ‘gift’ this Young Master prepared for all my beloved ministers.”