The next day.
Qilin Hall.
Before dawn had even broken, the officials were already standing in formation according to rank.
The atmosphere was strange.
On normal days, familiar officials would be whispering quietly to each other.
Today, however, everyone stood in silence, as still as cicadas in winter, eyes fixed forward, noses down, hearts steady.
“His Majesty arrives—!”
With the eunuch’s sharp announcement, all officials dropped to their knees in unison.
“May the Emperor live ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!”
The roar shook the palace like a tide.
Footsteps echoed from deep within the hall.
Unhurried.
Yet each step felt as if it were pressing directly on everyone’s hearts.
The officials kept their heads lowered, using the corners of their eyes to secretly glance at the figure walking toward the dragon throne.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
In the past, the Emperor’s steps were steady, but always carried a faint heaviness.
Today… those steps were light, like a hunting leopard!
A bold official slowly raised his head.
Just one glance.
He froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.
On the dragon throne sat a man.
Dressed in a black robe embroidered with the divine bird and dragon patterns.
Wearing the twelve-bead imperial crown.
It was indeed His Majesty.
But that face…
That was not the aging First Emperor in his fifties.
It was clearly a young man in his twenties, with sharp brows and piercing eyes!
Those eyes!
Even from more than ten zhang away, the gaze swept across them like two blades that could peel flesh from bone!
Pressure!
An overwhelming pressure—ten times stronger than before—filled the entire hall!
“Rise.”
Qin Shi Huang spoke.
His voice was loud and full of energy, echoing throughout the hall like a drum.
The officials rose trembling.
More of them now saw the Emperor’s “new appearance.”
“Hiss—”
A wave of gasps filled the hall.
“Th-that… is that really His Majesty?”
“How… how did he become twenty years younger?”
“A miracle! This is a miracle!”
Ying Teng stood among the crowd, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably as he stared at the figure on the throne.
He had thought yesterday was merely a final burst of vitality before death.
But now…
This was not a dying flash of life—this was rebirth!
The last trace of his hope shattered.
No!
It couldn’t end like this!
He still had his final trump card!
Thinking of this, Ying Teng straightened his back again.
He suddenly rushed out from the ranks.
Thud!
He knelt heavily in the center of the hall.
With both hands, he raised a bamboo scroll written in blood.
“Your Majesty!”
Ying Teng cried bitterly, as if mourning his own father.
“A thousand-li urgent report from the northern frontier! Eldest Prince Fusu has submitted a blood letter!”
Blood letter!
Those two words instantly silenced the entire court.
Qin Shi Huang looked down at the man crying on the floor.
His expression showed no joy or anger.
“Read it.”
Only two words.
“Yes!”
Ying Teng seemed to receive an imperial decree and immediately steadied himself.
He unrolled the bamboo slip and began reading at the top of his lungs with all his strength:
“I, Fusu, kneel in blood to report to Father Emperor!”
“I have heard that in Xianyang, recently there is a villain who wields power recklessly, killing without restraint, causing blood to flow like rivers and grievances to fill the land!”
As he read this, he deliberately glanced at the Ninth Prince, Ying Ziye, standing below the hall with a bored expression.
“The Analects say: ‘To execute without instruction is cruelty!’”
“The Ninth Prince is only eight years old. Instead of studying the words of sages, he acts with the ferocity of beasts—this is tyranny and defiance of ancestral law!”
Ying Teng’s voice grew increasingly impassioned.
“More importantly!”
“He even intends to implement the ‘imperial examination’ system! This is the root of chaos in the state!”
“If all commoners in the world are allowed to become officials, then hearts will become unstable, ranks will lose order, and everyone will be consumed by desire for profit—no one will remain content with their place!”
“The foundation of the nation will collapse!”
“I humbly beg Father Emperor to strip him of his regency authority, summon him back to Xianyang, and strictly discipline him!”
“Furthermore, I request Your Majesty summon me back to court, restore order, and bring peace to the realm and its people!”
After the blood letter was read.
Ying Teng was already crying uncontrollably.
Behind him, the group of old aristocratic officials immediately found their backbone again.
Thud!
Thud!
They all scrambled to kneel.
“The Eldest Prince is wise! This minister agrees!”
“Please depose the Ninth Prince and summon the Eldest Prince back to court!”
“The Great Qin empire cannot be ruined in the hands of a villain like this!”
The entire Qilin Hall instantly turned into a wailing mess, like a marketplace.
Li Si stood in place, unmoving.
He glanced at the old general Wang Jian beside him.
Wang Jian happened to be looking back at him too.
They exchanged a look.
Both saw the same expression in each other’s eyes.
“Idiot.”
This Eldest Prince Fusu really had studied himself into stupidity.
The Emperor had just regained his youth and was full of ambition.
And you bring up “ancestral laws” at a time like this?
You want him to abolish the so-called “son of the gods” he just elevated?
Isn’t that just walking straight into a spear?
On the dragon throne.
The smile on Qin Shi Huang’s face gradually disappeared.
But he did not erupt in anger.
He simply looked calmly at the group of “loyal ministers” crying and wailing below.
As if he were watching a troupe of monkeys performing.
After a long moment.
He turned his head.
Looked at the small figure who had been standing there the entire time, acting completely unconcerned—Ying Ziye.
Qin Shi Huang spoke.
His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
“Ziye.”
“Your elder brother is scolding you.”
“What do you say?”
All eyes instantly focused on the small figure.
Ying Ziye moved.
He opened his tiny mouth and yawned widely, even squeezing out a couple of sleepy tears at the corners of his eyes.
He looked completely half-asleep.
Then.
He stretched out his chubby little hand toward the throne.
“The letter?”
“Bring it here for me to take a look.”
His voice was soft and childish, echoing through the entire hall.
“Let me see.”
“Whether Big Brother’s handwriting has gotten worse.”
BOOM.
That sentence was even more humiliating than outright cursing.
Ying Teng’s sobbing suddenly caught in his throat.
His face turned the color of a liver.
Humiliation!
Pure, unfiltered humiliation!
The Eldest Prince’s blood-written memorial—treated like a calligraphy sample?
A eunuch carefully took the bamboo scroll from Ying Teng’s trembling hands and hurried it over to Ying Ziye.
Ying Ziye took it.
He glanced at it casually.
As if it were nothing more than scrap paper used to wipe a table.
The next moment.
Under the gaze of the entire court—hundreds of pairs of eyes—
Ying Ziye moved.
He grabbed both ends of the bamboo slip with his small hands.
And pulled.
RIP—!
A sharp tearing sound echoed through the deathly silent hall.
The blood letter that Ying Teng treated as sacred.
That the old nobles regarded as their lifeline.
Was torn in half.
But it didn’t stop there.
RIP!
RIP!
Two halves became four.
Four became eight.
He shredded the bamboo scroll into pieces.
Fragments of bamboo drifted down like snowflakes from his fingers.
Landing on the luxurious golden floor.
Everyone stood frozen.
Not a single person moved.
Their eyes widened like copper bells.
Ying Teng raised his hand, pointing at Ying Ziye.
His lips trembled violently.
“You… you… you actually dare…!”
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