DLERB -Chapter 9 Chancellor, Help Me Stoke the Fire Even Higher!

Xianyang — Donglai Teahouse.

At noon, the place was packed to the brim, noisy and bustling.

A storyteller in a gray robe stood before the crowd. Slapping his wooden clapper, he spoke animatedly, spittle flying everywhere.

“Honored guests, do you know why those three officials who were perfectly fine yesterday suddenly died in their homes today?”

He swept his gaze across the crowd, lowering his voice dramatically.

“Heaven’s punishment! It was Heaven’s punishment!”

“That Ninth Young Master is only eight years old, yet he acts with reckless cruelty! In Qilin Hall he unleashed a massacre, turning the court into a river of blood!”

“Such tyranny enrages both gods and men alike! Even Heaven itself could no longer tolerate it, so it sent a warning by taking the lives of those three who aided the tyrant!”

The teahouse instantly erupted in uproar.

“So that’s what happened! I was wondering why they died so strangely!”

“Terrifying! That little prince is a disaster star! Xianyang is doomed!”

“If he keeps causing chaos like this, will we be the next ones to die?!”

Fear spread through the crowd like an invisible plague.

At that moment, a booming voice suddenly rang out.

“Bullshit!”

Everyone turned toward the sound.

A burly one-armed man had stood up.

A vicious scar stretched across his face. He looked like a veteran who had just returned from the northern frontier.

“When I was fighting the Xiongnu with my life on the line up north, those corrupt bastards were sitting in Xianyang draining military funds and selling army grain!”

“The Ninth Young Master killed corrupt officials and traitors to the nation! How is that tyranny?!”

The storyteller’s expression changed.

Before he could speak, several loafers from a nearby table surrounded the veteran.

“Hey, cripple, what the hell do you know?”

“Exactly! The Ninth Young Master is royalty. If he kills people, it’s their honor! What’s a mud-legged peasant like you yelling for?”

“I think you’re one of those corrupt officials’ accomplices! Trying to clear their names!”

“Yeah! Beat him! Don’t let him get away!”

Outnumbered and with only one arm, the old soldier was shoved backward repeatedly.

The teahouse owner rushed out carrying a wooden club and pointed it at the veteran’s nose.

“Get out! Don’t bring bad luck into my shop! If you don’t leave now, I’ll break your other arm too!”

The veteran looked around at the surrounding faces — indifferent, angry, mocking.

In the end, he said nothing.

He only glanced once at the smug storyteller before silently squeezing through the crowd and leaving alone.

In a corner of the teahouse, a Jinyiwei quietly placed a piece of silver on the table. His figure flashed once before vanishing into the crowd.

…

At Chunyu Yue’s residence—

A heavy medicinal smell filled the bedroom.

Chunyu Yue lay half-reclined on the bed, his face still pale as paper.

A young Confucian scholar stood beside him, excitedly reporting the latest news from the city.

“Teacher! Have you heard? The whole city is saying the Ninth Young Master is a disaster star descended upon the world! They’re saying those three minor officials died from Heaven’s punishment!”

“The people’s hearts can be used! The people’s hearts can be used!”

After hearing this, a terrifying gleam burst from Chunyu Yue’s lifeless eyes.

Struggling, he tried to sit up from the bed.

“Cough… cough cough cough…”

A violent fit of coughing caused another streak of dark blood to spill from the corner of his mouth.

Yet he laughed.

“Haha… hahahaha!”

The hoarse laughter sounded like broken tiles grinding together.

“Good! Excellent!”

He grabbed the young scholar’s hand tightly, his fingernails turning white from the force.

“Heaven’s justice is clear! Retribution never fails! That little brat’s madness will finally bring Heaven’s punishment upon him!”

“Quick!”

Chunyu Yue’s voice trembled with excitement.

“Immediately send people to Chenliu! Contact Lord Wang!”

“Then go to Langya! Find the remnants of the old noble clans!”

“Tell them the timing has come! The First Emperor is absent, a tyrant rules the court, and the people’s resentment boils over! This is the perfect moment to purge the corrupt ruler’s side and restore order to Great Qin!”

Fear flashed across the young scholar’s face.

“Teacher… this… this is rebellion!”

Chunyu Yue glared at him fiercely.

“Fool! This is saving the state of Great Qin! Go quickly!”

“Y-Yes! This student will go at once!”

The young scholar no longer dared say another word and hurriedly scrambled out.

Chunyu Yue lay back down, staring at the bed canopy, his eyes filled with the joy of anticipated revenge.

“Ying Ziye… this old man will wait for the day when everyone abandons you and the people curse your name!”

…

Deep within Xianyang Grand Prison—

The area had been cleaned spotless, thick carpets laid across the floor while incense smoke drifted gently through the air.

Ying Ziye sat upon a massive grand chair, swinging his short little legs.

Kneeling before him was the former Grand Coachman Ying Zong, trembling like a leaf.

“Speak.”

Ying Ziye picked up a piece of osmanthus cake and took a small bite, his voice muffled as he spoke.

“Lord Royal Kinsman, I heard you kept eight mistresses outside your household, all funded with money from the national treasury.”

“Are their cosmetics sweeter than my pastries?”

The moment Ying Zong heard this, his soul nearly flew out of his body. He slammed his forehead against the ground repeatedly.

“Mercy, Your Highness! Mercy!”

“I-I was confused for a moment! This subject is guilty!”

Ying Ziye took another bite of cake.

“Admitting guilt alone isn’t enough.”

“Tell me where the money went, who you gave it to, and who shared it with you.”

“If you explain everything clearly, I might let you die more painlessly.”

Ying Zong’s body went limp, and a foul stench spread through the room.

At this point, he no longer cared about preserving any dignity as a royal relative. Like beans pouring from a bamboo tube, he spilled everything he knew.

“And Minister Zhang of the Grain Office! H-He replaced the frontier army’s grain supplies with sand, and we split the profits thirty-seventy!”

“And Commander Zhao Cheng! H-He had me secretly smuggle weapons out from the palace for him!”

“And also—”

At that moment, Li Si came stumbling into the prison chamber in panic, his official hat crooked from running.

At a glance, he saw Ying Zong kneeling on the floor babbling incoherently, and the child beside him calmly eating pastries.

A chill surged through Li Si’s bones once more.

“Your Highness! Your Highness! Something terrible has happened!”

Ignoring all protocol, he rushed forward and dropped to his knees with a thud, his voice almost breaking into tears.

“The entire city is in chaos! Rumors are spreading everywhere!”

“They’re saying you’re a disaster star! They say Zhang Cheng and the other two killed by Luowang assassins died because Heaven punished them!”

“The price of grain in the western district has tripled already! More than a dozen shops have closed their doors! A mob of troublemakers even surrounded the Court of Justice, shouting that the tyrant must be punished!”

Li Si looked up, his wrinkled old face filled with terror and despair.

“Your Highness, even military morale is becoming unstable! Officers in the Southern Gate garrison are already discussing this in secret!”

“We must immediately suppress the rumors! Arrest all those rabble-rousers spreading lies! If this continues, Great Qin will descend into chaos!”

Ying Ziye slowly finished the last bite of osmanthus cake and wiped his greasy little hands with a napkin.

Looking at Li Si, who was kneeling there on the verge of collapse, he remained silent.

Within the prison chamber, only Li Si’s heavy breathing and Ying Zong’s suppressed sobbing could be heard.

“Chancellor.”

At last, Ying Ziye spoke in his childish voice.

“You said we should arrest people and suppress the rumors.”

“In all of Xianyang, how many mouths are speaking?”

Li Si’s throat went dry.

“Thousands… tens of thousands.”

Ying Ziye tilted his little head innocently.

“Then can you arrest them all?”

“Even if you arrest everyone speaking today, what about tomorrow? If they simply move elsewhere and continue talking, what will you do?”

“You can silence Donglai Teahouse, but can you silence the entertainment houses of the western district?”

“You can shut one mouth, but can you shut every mouth in Xianyang?”

The rapid-fire questions struck Li Si like buckets of icy water, soaking him to the core.

He slumped weakly onto the floor, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

That was right.

Public resentment was like water — it could only be guided, never blocked.

But now the flood had become overwhelming.

How could it possibly be guided?

“Then… then what should we do?”

Despair filled Li Si’s voice.

Ying Ziye jumped down from the chair and walked over to him.

“Who said this is bad?”

Patting Li Si on the shoulder, he smiled.

“I think this is excellent.”

Li Si suddenly looked up, his face filled with incomprehension.

“Qinglong.”

Ying Ziye called out softly.

Like a ghost, the Jinyiwei commander appeared behind him.

“At your command.”

“Pass down my order.”

Ying Ziye’s childish voice sounded especially clear within the cold prison.

“All Jinyiwei are forbidden from stopping the rumors spreading through the city.”

“Let them talk.”

“The louder they speak, the better. The farther the rumors spread, the better.”

“Anyone who dares interfere with the spread of these rumors will be treated as an enemy of mine.”

Boom!

Li Si felt as though his mind had exploded.

Not suppress them?

He was actually encouraging them to spread the rumors?!

Had this child gone insane?!

“Your Highness! Absolutely not!”