DLERB -Chapter 83 Your Majesty, Everyone on This List Is One of Ours!

“Did you not eat breakfast?”

Ying Zheng’s voice was calm and indifferent.

Below the platform.

The hundreds of thousands of people who had been stretching their necks, ready to scramble for food, were all stunned.

The soaring sword light from earlier, the deafening roar of killing intent—it had terrified them out of their wits.

But now…

The First Emperor was actually asking whether the assassin had eaten breakfast?

Pfft.

Somewhere, someone couldn’t hold it in and laughed first.

That single laugh was like a spark thrown into dry grass.

“Hahahahaha…”

“The First Swordsman of Chu? That’s it?”

“Not even enough to warm up His Majesty’s wrist!”

“I think he didn’t skip breakfast—he just didn’t eat enough!”

Mocking laughter and chatter surged into a wave of joy.

The fear from moments ago was completely wiped away.

On the high platform.

Xiang Zhuang lay in the human-shaped crater, his ears ringing violently.

And all he could hear was that endless ridicule.

He tried to get up.

He moved slightly.

Crack.

His chest bone shifted out of place.

The pain made his vision go black.

He tried to speak.

Opened his mouth—but only blood foam mixed with broken teeth came out.

His face?

Half of it had completely lost sensation.

With his remaining eye, he stared desperately at the figure standing before him.

That figure.

Straight as a mountain.

Blood and qi like a furnace.

Who… who was this?

Where was the intelligence that said this man was an old emperor obsessed with pills, drained by wine and women, needing support just to walk?

This monster who could shatter his jaw with a single slap… who was he?!

Xiang Zhuang’s faith shattered in that instant.

Even more completely than his sword.

“Trying to run?”

A cold voice rang out.

The remaining dozen Chu death soldiers finally reacted from their shock at their comrade being obliterated.

They exchanged glances, threw down their swords, and turned to rush into the crowd below the platform.

As long as they blended in, they still had a chance!

However—

Before they had taken more than two steps—

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Dozens of black shadows emerged like ghosts from all directions of the square.

Flying Fish uniforms!

Embroidered Spring Sabers!

It was the Imperial Guard—Jinyiwei!

They had been lying in ambush all along!

The leading Jinyiwei looked at an assassin rushing toward him and didn’t even draw his blade.

He simply shifted his body and slammed his shoulder forward.

Bang!

His shoulder struck the assassin’s knee with perfect precision.

“Ah!!”

The assassin let out a scream that didn’t sound human at all as he flew backward, his leg bending at a grotesque angle.

Another Jinyiwei acted even more directly.

His Embroidered Spring Sabre didn’t even leave its sheath.

He swung the scabbard horizontally toward another assassin’s lower leg.

Crack!

The sound of bone breaking was crisp and horrifying.

Thud.

Thud.

In just a few breaths of time.

The dozen or so Chu death soldiers who had moments ago been full of killing intent were all lying on the ground.

Each one clutching their broken legs, rolling in agony.

The Jinyiwei remained expressionless.

One by one, they dragged them away like dead dogs, tossing them into a pile beneath the platform.

The entire process was smooth.

Fast.

Precise.

Ruthless.

The crowd below was stunned.

So this was Great Qin’s elite guard?

Too strong!

On the high platform.

Ying Ziye jumped down from his small throne.

Carrying his blue cloth bag, he ran over to Xiang Zhuang.

Ying Zheng watched with interest and did not stop him.

Ying Ziye squatted down.

First, he curiously examined Xiang Zhuang’s face—something that could no longer even be called a face.

Then he picked up the broken half-sword from the ground.

He weighed it in his hands like an adult.

Sigh.

He let out a childish sigh.

Then he poked Xiang Zhuang’s uninjured arm lightly with the broken blade.

“Uncle.”

Ying Ziye’s voice was innocent.

“Your sword has really bad quality.”

He poked again.

“Did you buy it from a roadside stall?”

“You shouldn’t try to save money next time.”

“Let me tell you, the third shop at the east gate of Xianyang—Old Wang Ma’s kitchen knives are sturdier than this.”

Pfft!

Xiang Zhuang spat out another mouthful of blood.

Humiliation!

This was more lethal than the slap!

He was the First Swordsman of Chu!

A pillar of the Xiang clan!

Yet now he was being poked at with his own broken sword by an eight-year-old child, like a dead fish!

And being taught where to buy kitchen knives!

“You…”

Xiang Zhuang struggled, his eyes filled with venomous hatred.

At that moment—

A rich aroma of meat drifted over.

Ying Ziye waved his small hand toward Qinglong behind him.

“Uncle Qinglong, get me a potato.”

Qinglong immediately turned and scooped up a steaming potato from the large pot of stewed beef nearby.

It had been soaked through with gravy, turning a deep brown.

The heat and overwhelming meat fragrance hit the face instantly.

Ying Ziye took it carefully and blew on it.

Then he held the dangerously fragrant potato right in front of Xiang Zhuang’s nose—barely an inch from his lips.

“Uncle, you’re hungry, right?”

Ying Ziye smiled sweetly like an angel.

“Want some?”

“This is really good—it’s been stewed for a full hour in premium beef broth.”

“Look at the skin, it’s fully flavored.”

Xiang Zhuang’s throat moved uncontrollably.

He hadn’t eaten for a full day.

He had gone without food and water for this assassination.

Now, that smell drilled into his nose, and his stomach convulsed violently.

“Just tell us who your accomplices are, and who else is in Xianyang City.”

Ying Ziye moved the potato closer again.

“This… I’ll give it to you.”

“How about it?”

Xiang Zhuang clenched his teeth tightly.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

His dignity remained—his last shred of dignity.

He suddenly turned his head and roared with all his strength:

“Kill me if you want—do as you please!”

“My Great Chu… even if only three households remain!”

“Qin will fall—Chu will rise!!”

His voice was hoarse, but filled with absolute determination.

Ying Ziye curled his lips.

“Boring.”

He pulled the potato back and took a big bite.

“Mmm, delicious.”

He chewed while mumbling indistinctly.

Xiang Zhuang: “……”

At that moment—

Ying Zheng moved.

He slowly stepped down the stairs.

He did not look at anyone.

Step by step, he walked to Xiang Zhuang.

Xiang Zhuang saw a pair of black dragon-patterned boots stop in front of him.

Instinctively, he tried to push himself up, trying to preserve a final shred of dignity.

His hand had just touched the ground.

The dragon-patterned boot lifted.

Then—

It came down lightly onto the back of his hand.

Xiang Zhuang’s pupils instantly widened.

He tried to pull his hand back—

Too late.

Ying Zheng’s toe applied slight pressure.

Downward.

Crush.

Press.

CRACK!!!

A bone-shattering sound, so sharp it made one’s teeth ache, echoed across the platform.

Xiang Zhuang’s palm was forcefully pressed into the wooden floor at a bizarre angle.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

A piercing scream finally erupted from his throat.

Ten fingers connected to the heart!

This pain was a hundred times worse than the slap to his face!

Ying Zheng’s expression remained unchanged.

He looked down at the writhing insect beneath his feet.

His voice was as calm as stagnant water.

“Destroy Qin?”

“Just you?”

He added a bit more force under his foot.

Xiang Zhuang was on the verge of unconsciousness from pain.

Ying Zheng lifted his foot.

He no longer looked at Xiang Zhuang, and instead waved casually at Qinglong.

“Search him.”

One word.

Qinglong obeyed.

He stepped forward and grabbed the convulsing Xiang Zhuang.

Ignoring his struggles and screams, he tore open his chest clothing with brutal force.

Inside his inner garment—

A small oil-wrapped bundle was tightly sewn in.

Qinglong ripped out the threads and took it.

He opened the oil cloth.

Inside was a small bronze token.

On it—only one character.

Xiang.

Beneath it was a neatly folded silk document.

Qinglong respectfully handed it over.

Ying Zheng didn’t even look at it.

He waved toward Li Si below the platform.

“Chancellor, read it.”

Li Si scrambled up in a panic.

His hands trembled as he took the silk sheet.

Just one glance.

His face turned completely white in an instant.

The silk sheet in his hands felt like a burning iron—he nearly dropped it.

“Your… Your Majesty!”

His voice trembled uncontrollably, almost breaking into tears.

“This… this list…”

He suddenly raised his head, eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

“This list includes a relative of the Clan Affairs Office—Ying Teng!”

“And… and a subordinate of the Palace Commandant Zhao Hai!!”