HCT – Extra 12 The Great Ying Zheng’s Dream (Final)

As he grew older, the increasingly unpredictable First Emperor finally had a few months of good mood.

Before everyone could get used to their ruler—whose temper swung like the weather—suddenly becoming easy to get along with, his expression darkened once more.

Fusu asked his father why he was upset.

Qin Shihuang did not answer. He only said he wanted to stay for a while at the temporary palace by the imperial mausoleum of the former king.

Worried about his father’s age, Fusu accompanied him, effectively moving the court to the temporary palace.

Each day, he personally attended to the emperor’s daily needs while also handling the government affairs Qin Shihuang assigned to him. The sight of him busying about made Meng Yi feel momentarily dazed, as though he were looking at the young Qin Shihuang again.

He felt a renewed sense of relief. The crown prince was finally becoming more and more like his ruler.

Meng Yi let out a long breath. At the rate the crown prince was growing, perhaps the Meng clan wouldn’t be doomed after all for tying themselves to his cause.

But before he could fully enjoy that relief, Qin Shihuang, after a long time of not doing so, once again brought up a “hypothetical.”

Wang Ben was already dead, so now only Meng Yi had to endure this torture.

Meng Yi considered whether he could drag someone else down with him, but in the end he shook his head and bore it alone.

If the emperor trusted someone, he would summon that person himself. Meng Yi couldn’t overstep, couldn’t try to be clever.

Qin Shihuang explained to him what he had seen in his dream.

Meng Yi was terrified.

What did he mean “almost became Qin Shihuang again then gave up being Qin Shihuang”? And why was it the former king again? Your Majesty, if you’re making up stories, can you stop making the former king the butt of all plots?!

Meng Yi wanted to say, “Your Majesty, your servant truly has no idea what any of this is,” but then he saw it—on the face of the man who always stood tall and immovable before others, there was a faint, unhidden trace of confusion and distress.

Meng Yi did not understand why the emperor would fall into doubt over a purely hypothetical story, as though he had truly witnessed those events happen.

But seeing his liege like this, he couldn’t bring himself to give a perfunctory reply.

“Your Majesty, didn’t you already say the reason in the story?” Meng Yi forced himself to expose the emperor’s self-deception. “The former king gave up being the First Emperor just to make governing the world easier for Qin. That is all.”

Qin Shihuang muttered in confusion, “For just that reason, one can abandon such a monumental achievement?”

Meng Yi replied, “The former king in the story believed he could.”

Qin Shihuang fell silent.

What else could he say? What else could he question? There was only silence.

Ying Zheng no longer dared to fall asleep.

But dreams didn’t obey his will.

He could only pray his father’s body would hold on. Even the Ying Zheng in the dream had changed from being an unfilial son to a dutiful one, muttering concern for his father’s health each time Ying Zheng dreamt.

I won’t be the First Emperor anymore—Father, please don’t let anything happen to you.

Father… Zheng’er… begs you.

A month passed, then two.

Ying Zheng remained in the temporary palace for over two months, just as he had when the former king had first died.

Drought came.

Locusts came.

Even the coalition of five kingdoms came.

It was clearly a disaster across the realm, yet it felt as though only Qin was suffering.

Countless times Ying Zheng wanted to ask the other world’s father, “Was it worth it?”

But the Ying Zheng in the dream never once doubted his father’s decision. He seemed to completely understand and fully approve of his father’s choice.

But Ying Zheng could not understand. Could not accept.

All for “better governance,” not only abandoning the monumental undertaking of unifying the world, but burning himself out like an exhausted lamp.

Is that a monarch? How could there be such a monarch? That was not how he had been taught a ruler should be.

Ying Zheng could no longer focus on anything happening in the dream. All his attention was on the other father’s body.

Once the natural and manmade disasters passed, the father could finally rest.

But he refused to rest.

The past two kings of Qin would abdicate at such times, yet he clung tightly to power.

King Zichu loved power that much.

As long as he could open his eyes, he had to be the Qin king who held supreme authority.

“So why, Father, would you give up being the First Emperor to pave the way for someone else?”

Ying Zheng still could not understand.

He watched as the Qin King Zichu passed away on the throne, and watched Ying Zheng cry until he collapsed in both dream and reality.

The First Emperor began another massive construction project.

Using the materials originally set aside to build celestial palaces and immortal cities, he began constructing a new mausoleum.

Since the former king was “emperor,” his tomb must differ from that of a “king.” He would rebuild a mausoleum for his father and move him into the new imperial tomb.

He set no deadlines, harming no agriculture.

If he could not finish it in his lifetime, Fusu would continue the work. He instructed Fusu: when relocating the former king, only move the former king’s tomb.

The admiration he felt for the father of the other world was projected onto his own father.

Ying Zheng still did not understand. No—he understood, but could not accept.

But he tried to.

His great-grandfather had taught him to fear no death. His grandfather taught the meaning of true recuperation and nurturing of the people. His father taught him restraint, and the willingness to sacrifice oneself for later generations.

He could not do it. But he was old. Even if he wanted to establish new great achievements, he lacked the time.

So he must learn.

Even if he did not understand—truly did not.

“Father, Zheng’er really doesn’t understand.” Ying Zheng poured wine onto the ground and laughed bitterly. “Perhaps my own father didn’t understand either.”

I had no maternal uncle.

My father had no friend like that uncle.

…

After King Zichu’s death, Ying Zheng lost much interest in the development of the dream.

He sensed that once the Ying Zheng of that world became the First Emperor, the dreams would cease.

That Ying Zheng’s conquest of the world would be easier than his own, but there was nothing interesting to see.

What, watch Ying Zheng show off?

Ying Zheng had started by calling him “the other me,” then “Old Zheng,” and now spoke to him casually and without respect.

Ying Zheng truly did not want to see that smug face again.

If I had an uncle and aunt like that, and if my uncle brought along such a luxurious group of friends, my path would also be smooth.

What are you showing off for? What arrogance? It’s not even your own ability.

You merely inherited the accumulated momentum of six generations, basking in the shade cast by your elders. Someone like me, who unified the world with my own hands—that is true strength.

“Old Zheng, my Qin has too many great generals and too few enemy states left. Not enough achievements to go around. I’m distressed.”

“Old Zheng, I really wasn’t bullying Old General Wang Jian. You see, he just started late and our teacher already took all the credit. When I become the First Emperor, I’ll definitely enfeoff him! I’ve even written the decree—just waiting to ascend the throne!”

“Sigh, conquering the world is easy, governing it is hard. Who would’ve thought unification would happen so fast? I wasn’t even mentally prepared yet.”

Ying Zheng wanted to punch that smug Ying Zheng right in the face.

“If Father had ten more years…” After boasting, Ying Zheng’s joyful expression faded. “The burden on my shoulders is heavy. I fear I cannot live up to Great-grandfather, Grandfather, and Father’s endurance and sacrifice. I am truly afraid.”

Seeing the anxiety on Ying Zheng’s face, Ying Zheng sighed deeply.

Even with an uncle, Ying Zheng would never reveal all his fragility. He would leave that only in the dream to pour out to him.

Different Ying Zhengs. The same emperor. The same…

“Qin King circling a pillar? Qin King shedding armor?” Ying Zheng was baffled.

Who was that idiot who wouldn’t let anyone intervene and instead fought assassins alone in court?

I refuse to acknowledge this Ying Zheng! Ying Zheng, change your name!

Ying Zheng held his head in his hands like a defeated old man.

Shameful! How could there be a Ying Zheng like Ying Zheng? He embarrassed every Ying Zheng across all worlds!

Grinding his teeth, Ying Zheng cursed that Ying Zheng deserved to be beaten by his uncle even after becoming king.

If Fusu behaved like that, he would’ve beaten him senseless long ago!

After seeing Ying Zheng, Fusu suddenly became much less troublesome.

Then—

【“Did you know Zhao Gao and Li Si forged an edict for Huhai to succeed you?”

“Did you know your beloved Huhai slaughtered your children?”】

Ying Zheng was horrified.

The uncle had memories of the future?! So that was what became of him?

【“Did you know they covered your corpse with stinky fish to mask the smell? Later generations mocked you as ‘Ying Zheng, whose casket wasted fine fish.’”

“Your Qin collapsed three years after you died! Collapsed! Completely collapsed!”】

Ying Zheng endured.

【“Ying Zheng’s casket wasted fine fish! Qin fell after one generation!”】

Endure… endure…

【“Old Zheng’s great Qin is gone! Gone! All gone!”】

Ying Zheng: “Ying Zheng! I’ll kill you!”

Enough. No more endurance.

That day, the First Emperor unlocked the achievement: “I want to kill myself.”

…

All officials of Qin—including the crown prince Fusu—knelt trembling on the ground.

The furious First Emperor looked like he had returned to the tyrannical self he had been before being deceived by the alchemists.

The cause was that Qin Shihuang had discovered that Zhao Gao, the Chief of the Chariot Office, had colluded with many high-ranking officials to install Prince Huhai as the crown prince and disrupt the court.

When this was uncovered, no one could believe it.

Zhao Gao, born a lowly palace slave, had been elevated by the emperor to a high-ranking official. Instead of gratitude and loyalty unto death, he dared to meddle in the succession of the Qin Empire?! And right under the emperor’s nose, he had already built such a powerful network?!

This level of “darkness under the lamp” was terrifying.

“Fusu, you dare plead for Li Si?!” Qin Shihuang trembled with rage.

Fusu’s forehead was already bleeding from kowtowing. “Although Li Si had contact with Zhao Gao, investigation shows he never collaborated with Zhao Gao. He has always been loyal to Father and has never betrayed you! I beg Father to reconsider!”

Qin Shihuang’s fists tightened.

Yes, yes! Li Si not only remained a loyal minister now—even at the moment before my death, he did not betray me.

But immediately after my death, he did.

Ying Zheng’s coffin wasted fine fish…

Ying Zheng’s coffin wasted fine fish…

Ha! He and Zhao Gao actually put my corpse together with stinking salted fish. My lifetime’s reputation, ruined by two petty villains!

Qin Shihuang pressed his head, Fusu’s urgent voice and Ying Zheng’s mocking chant mixing in his ears, causing a splitting headache.

He knew Fusu was right.

Judging by actions, not intentions—by either measure, Li Si had not betrayed him.

Li Si still had many important matters to handle. Great Qin was currently amending the Qin Code, removing a number of cumbersome and harmful laws.

Only Li Si had the ability to do this task well.

If he killed Li Si now, not only would he be unjustly executing a meritorious official—chilling the hearts of all his ministers—it would also slow down Qin’s transition.

Great Qin had shifted from rushing forward at full speed to resting and recuperating; danger lay everywhere, as if they were walking along the edge of a cliff.

Even a small disturbance could send the empire plunging into the abyss.

Moreover—to perish within a single lifetime, to perish within a single lifetime…

According to his uncle’s “prophecy,” he should have died this very year during an inspection tour, dying in the same Sand Hill palace where King Zhao Wuling starved to death.

Though he had not gone on tour and his body was still functioning, who could say he would not “die suddenly” just like the “prophecy”?

He wouldn’t die slowly of illness, nor from injury. It would be sudden death.

Three years later, Great Qin would fall.

Three years! Only three years!

“Pardon… Li Si.”

The First Emperor pressed a hand to his forehead; his expression twisted with pain as he forced the three words out through clenched teeth.

Then, as if his strength had been drained, his vision went black.

Ying Zheng bit down hard on his lip, using the pain to drag himself back to consciousness.

He could not collapse.

Three years—there were still three years left. He had to live through them and change Qin’s fate.

Without his uncle, without elders, without anyone to hold his hand and guide him—he was still the emperor of Great Qin, the First Emperor, the master of this world!

“Thank you, Father!”

With blood trickling down his forehead, Fusu lifted his head. “Father is wise!”

“His Majesty is wise!”

All the ministers let out a long breath.

Zhao Gao was sentenced to be torn apart by five horses. Before his death he kept shouting that he was innocent. When no one paid attention, he burst into mad laughter, cursing the First Emperor for being foolish—saying he had almost succeeded.

An emperor? Nothing more, nothing more!

Ying Zheng did not look at Zhao Gao, but Fusu went to see him. Fusu angrily demanded to know why Zhao Gao had betrayed the emperor when His Majesty had treated him so well.

Zhao Gao spat. “My power and status were earned by climbing upward through my own efforts. He rewarded me because I pleased him. Everything he gave me was what I deserved!”

Fusu nearly drew his sword to cut Zhao Gao down on the spot.

If not for the eunuch Li Zuoju holding him back—begging him not to act rashly—Zhao Gao might have escaped the punishment of five horse dismemberment. Fusu barely restrained himself.

Xianyang fell into chaos. General Meng Tian handed his troops to Wang Ben’s son, Wang Li, and rushed back to the capital.

When he arrived at the Xianyang Palace, Meng Yi was pacing frantically before the tightly shut palace gates like a headless fly.

“Brother!” Meng Yi hurried to him. “Quick, persuade His Majesty—he insists on making me a marquis!”

Meng Tian froze. “Huh? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Good thing?!” Meng Yi smacked his suddenly-dense older brother on the head. “The Meng family’s power is already at its limit. Even if a marquis is to be granted, it should not be our generation!”

“I really think my merits are enough—fine, fine! They’re not enough, nowhere near enough!”
Meng Tian dodged his brother’s hand. “I’ll go beg His Majesty to take it back…”

“No need. I’ve already taken it back.” The First Emperor pushed open the door and stepped out.

The Meng brothers immediately knelt. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

The First Emperor looked down at the two people he trusted most in the Meng clan—

The very ones Zhao Gao and Hu Hai would first push to their deaths in the future.

His intention to grant a marquisate had not been to compensate them because of the “prophecy,” but to test them.

Even though he knew the “prophecy,” the betrayals of Zhao Gao and Li Si still compelled him to test these two as well.

Although he now confirmed that Meng Tian remained carefree as ever, and Meng Yi cautious and meticulous—they were unquestionably loyal—his heart still could not settle.

Li Si had not betrayed him now either, and was equally cautious, yet Li Si had still committed such outrageous acts in the future.

If, at that time, Meng Tian and Meng Yi had been in Li Si and Zhao Gao’s positions—what would they have done?

Rationally, the Emperor knew that with their personalities, and with the Meng clan’s immense authority, regardless of whether Fusu or any of the princes inherited the throne, their status would not be shaken.

So they had no reason to betray him.

But then he wondered—

What if Meng Tian and Meng Yi had been placed in Li Si and Zhao Gao’s exact circumstances?

It was an irrational paranoia—yet he could not suppress it.

Before, his dreams had helped soothe his negative emotions.

But now, even the dreams were ending.

Earlier that day, during a nap, the dream had shattered.

Ying Zheng ascended the throne and became the First Emperor.

The dream he had for so many years was over.

Over.

Neither Ying Zheng, nor his uncle, nor those elders and loyal ministers were his. He no longer had even an illusory place to breathe in peace.

The First Emperor should not have been this fragile. Had the dream ended normally, he would have accepted it calmly and continued his lonely life as an emperor.

But—why did it have to be Hu Hai, Zhao Gao, and Li Si?

The First Emperor did not visit Zhao Gao.

Zhao Gao’s ingratitude had not wounded him. He had employed a petty man and been pecked in the eye by that petty man—it was his own failure in judging character.

Instead, the First Emperor went to see the confined Hu Hai.

He asked Hu Hai—pretending it was something Zhao Gao had said—

Did Hu Hai truly hate all his siblings? Why? Had they not treated him well?

Learning that he would be demoted to commoner and exiled far away, Hu Hai first wept and begged his father for mercy.

But when he realized the outcome was irreversible, Hu Hai revealed his dark and violent nature to the First Emperor for the first time.

“Hah? Treated me well?”

“Father, do you think I don’t know? The way you ‘treat me well’ is like treating a rare animal in a garden!”

“You think I don’t know I was the only prince eliminated from the line of succession at birth?”

“If I can’t even become King of Qin, what kind of prince am I? Hahaha! Why were those so-called siblings nice to me? Because they never considered me one of them!”

“Some ignore me, some try to win me over, and the worst—some pity me?!”

“You know how much I want to rip those faces apart every time I see them?!”

“If I became King of Qin, I would kill them all—kill them horribly, grind them to dust, I would—ah!”

The First Emperor slapped him to the ground before he could finish.

His son not only hated his siblings—

He hated him.

He had thought he was merely a father to this child, but the son he raised with tenderness saw him as an enemy!

Ha… ha…

The First Emperor’s mind was chaos, his normal emotions seemingly gone. But his body still moved with calm, deadly precision—handling the chaos caused by Zhao Gao and Hu Hai, assigning Meng Tian to guard Xianyang and the palace, even personally comforting Li Si. As though his body belonged to someone else who could act regardless of his inner turmoil.

Zhao Gao was executed; Hu Hai was exiled.

All those involved were dealt with.

The First Emperor punished only the masterminds and generously pardoned the rest.

Those “implicated,” including Li Si, were personally visited and comforted, even rewarded.

The storm had come like a raging tide, but dispersed without a sound.

The chaos the Six Kingdoms’ nobles had long yearned for was once again quickly subdued under the First Emperor’s authority and skill.

The dilapidated house that was Great Qin swayed—but stabilized again, still standing tall upon the earth.

The First Emperor, who had been unable to sleep since losing the dream, finally fell into deep slumber from sheer exhaustion.

It had been many days since he slept soundly.

……

“Hm? Where is this?”

Zhu Xiang scratched his head. “Ah? Zheng’er?!”

The First Emperor, who had been sleeping with his chin propped on his hand, jolted awake. “Uncle?!”

Zhu Xiang blinked in confusion. “Didn’t I just say goodbye to you? Why am I back in your dream again?”

Ying Zheng: “…”

What was happening? Why was his uncle here?

Had the dream returned? But he was not Ying Zheng—so how could he dream of his uncle?

Seeing Ying Zheng’s panic and strange clothing, Zhu Xiang suddenly understood. “Ah, you’re not Zheng’er—you’re the First Emperor from Zheng’er’s dream, right!”

Ying Zheng drew a long breath.

Ying Zheng told him everything?

No—that was not his uncle. Not his.

“Yes… sir.” Ying Zheng cupped his hands in salute.

Zhu Xiang touched his nose. “Ah, after hearing Zheng’er describe his dream, I really couldn’t let go of you. Didn’t expect I could enter your dream too. You… called me uncle just now?”

Ying Zheng: “…” mortified.

Zhu Xiang burst out laughing.

Helping Ying Zheng up, he clapped his shoulder with shameless familiarity.

“In your world, I’d probably also be your uncle—just died early. If you don’t mind, call me uncle.  And I’m not used to imperial titles. Can I still call you Zheng’er?”

Ying Zheng: “…”

No one had ever spoken to him like this. He was completely unused to it.

Zhu Xiang pretended not to notice his discomfort. “Since Zheng’er can access your memories, you should be able to see his too. You should know I can see the future. So—you’ve already dealt with Zhao Gao, right? What difficulties have you run into? Anything you want to ask your uncle? Come, come— we’ve got the whole night. No rush.”

Ying Zheng: “…”

Only one night—and no rush?!

Knowing there was no time to waste, he immediately asked: “Uncle, how does papermaking work? How is gunpowder made? Where do those high-yield crops come from?”

Zhu Xiang touched his face. Smooth. Young. But his hair was still white.

Wow!

The aged First Emperor calling him uncle! If only he could still keep a diary—what a story to record!

The First Emperor calling me uncle!

Not my Zheng’er—the historical First Emperor!

I actually tricked him into calling me uncle!

Why are all Zheng’ers so easy to coax? Truly worrying—what if he gets deceived?

“Come, one thing at a time.” Zhu Xiang pulled the stiff, formal Great Qin First Emperor to sit with him at the table.

The room that had originally been the study where Ying Zheng and Young Zheng met was now slowly changing bit by bit.

The sky brightened, as if they had moved outdoors.

There were flowers and trees around them, and even a small vegetable patch.

On the wooden table were some pastries, and the chairs were cushioned.

With just a stretch of his hand, brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone appeared before Zhu Xiang.

“You seem a little tired. Eat some snacks first while I think about where to begin.” Zhu Xiang handed Ying Zheng the osmanthus cake on the table. “Come, try it. Little Zheng and you are both ‘Zheng’, so your tastes should be similar. I adjusted countless versions to finally make this osmanthus cake that he loved the most.”

Ying Zheng picked up a piece and took a bite. It wasn’t sticky and chewy—its texture was silky, like flowing sand. The osmanthus cake was like a piece of white jade, crumbling into powder with a gentle pinch. Candied osmanthus was scattered through the center, blending into the sweet glutinous rice flour.

The osmanthus cakes made by his uncle were indeed worlds better than anything the palace chefs prepared. They weren’t even the same kind of pastry.

“…Let’s just start by showing you the world map.” Zhu Xiang thought for a moment, then reached out; a scroll materialized in his hand.

In this dream, he could create anything.

“Entering dreams” was a privilege granted by the system.

This world had no celestial court or underworld; no immortals governed life or death. But the system itself was forged from tremendous power and could preserve, for a time, the souls of people connected to it. These souls would only enter the system owner’s dream if they had created major “deviations” in history and died with strong longing toward the system owner.

The only exception was Prince Chu of Qin. His endurance had completely changed Great Qin and reshaped the future “Qin Shi Huang.” So the system gave him a bonus—he could meet whoever he wished. Once the soul entered the dream, it would then leave, returning to the cycle of reincarnation.

So…

Right, it was only after Zhu Xiang died that he realized—dammit, Xia Tong wasn’t running out of dream-entry chances at all; he simply didn’t think of his son Zheng’er at the moment of death!! 

Xia Tong, do you want a beating?! What kind of father are you?!

After death, Zhu Xiang could also visit the dreams of friends whose affection rating reached three stars or higher. He didn’t use any of those chances—he only went to nag Zheng’er, who wasn’t on the affection list at all. Not even Fusu or Chengjiao did he visit.

As for his “mysterious abilities,” having Zheng’er alone know about them was enough. Anyone else who had discovered his abnormality had already said their farewells.

He never expected to enter another Ying Zheng’s dream.

This Great Ying Zheng even called him “uncle”! Zhu Xiang was delighted.

“Look, Great Qin is here.”

“The high-yield crops I have are here—far, far away. You’ll need to develop maritime routes. I’ll write down the ship designs and compass for you.”

“With the seeds available now, yields can still be increased. Methods… oh, it seems I can even pull out the agriculture textbooks from Xianyang Academy. Here, all for you—not only agriculture.”

“Gunpowder and tool blueprints—you’ll need these as well.”

“Hm… let’s add some talents. Xiao He, Liu Bang, Han Xin, and so on. As for Zhang Liang, if he doesn’t appear on his own, better not go looking for him.”

“What else… let me think…”

Zhu Xiang kept pulling things out.

Ying Zheng said, “Uncle, the things you take out now—I cannot bring them out of the dream.”

Zhu Xiang grinned at the older Zheng who unconsciously said “I” instead of “We.”

“Don’t worry. Since your uncle could meet you, I can definitely send these things to you.” He shamelessly rubbed the First Emperor’s head. “Believe in your uncle. Even if I came late, I’ll still help you.”

From childhood to adulthood, no one had ever rubbed Ying Zheng’s head. “…!!!” 

Embarrassing—so embarrassing!

Inside, Zhu Xiang was screaming: Wow wow wow! This is the real historical Qin Shi Huang, not my family’s little Zheng! I rubbed his head! Hahaha!

Ying Zheng forced down his embarrassment. “Uncle, rest assured. I have already handled Zhao Gao, and left Li Si for Fusu to use. I—I have named Fusu crown prince. He is growing quickly.”

Ying Zheng didn’t mention Hu Hai, and Zhu Xiang didn’t ask. Hu Hai was Ying Zheng’s child—he would not poke his pain.

“Qin absolutely will not perish in a single generation,” Ying Zheng said solemnly.

Zhu Xiang chuckled. “Don’t give yourself so much pressure. Qin falling after one generation isn’t your fault.”

Though he could analyze Qin Shi Huang’s many mistakes calmly back in modern times, and even knock Little Zheng on the head while listing them, facing this elderly First Emperor, he couldn’t say those things.

The once radiant and vigorous Zheng’er had become this exhausted, death-shadowed “Great Ying Zheng.”

As his uncle, Zhu Xiang could not speak cruelly.

He racked his brains trying to persuade him—Qin’s problems were planted as early as Shang Yang; ministers failed to advise; remnants of the six kingdoms caused endless trouble; and Qin Ershi was simply outrageous. None of it was his fault.

Qin Shi Huang listened quietly, and a faint smile surfaced.

He said, “Uncle, I am the emperor.”

“Hm?”

“I am the emperor. If the rise and fall of the realm has nothing to do with me, then what kind of emperor am I?”

“Qin’s policies—I can change them. Qin’s enemies—I can destroy them. Qin’s heir—I should have decided long ago.”

“I am Qin Shi Huang, the one and only emperor of this world.”

“The rise of Qin is my merit; the fall of Qin is my fault.”

“Only I can bear responsibility for the fate of the realm. Shang Yang cannot, and Hu Hai certainly cannot.”

‘To bear the disgrace of the state—this is the duty of the guardian of the realm…’

Zhu Xiang’s vision blurred, and he seemed to see another figure.

“To bear the misfortune of the nation—this is to be the king of the world.”

Zhu Xiang interrupted softly. “I know. I understand.”

Seeing his uncle suddenly choke up, Ying Zheng faltered, unsure what to do.

Zhu Xiang forced a smile. “You’re really just like Xia Tong. He told me these exact words.”

“…Is that so?”

The behavior of his father, which he never understood, suddenly began to make sense through this single remark.

Zhu Xiang said, “But Zheng’er, perhaps from your perspective everything is your responsibility. But from others’ perspective, that’s not true. At the very least, for Qin, your father bears most of the blame.”

“If only he had lived a few more years. If he had properly taught you, cleared obstacles for you, then passed the throne when you were grown… you wouldn’t have suffered so much. A child uneducated is the father’s fault. He didn’t teach you how to be King of Qin. He left you to explore and stumble on your own. That was his failing.”

Ying Zheng was stunned. “…Huh?”

Zhu Xiang spoke earnestly. “This isn’t from a ruler’s point of view—it’s from a father and son’s. I know you are a filial child, but in this matter, you cannot take on his mistakes. Remember—it’s all Xia Tong’s fault.”

Ying Zheng: “……”

Zhu Xiang asked, “Right, Xia Tong was buried with Chunhua, wasn’t he?”

Ying Zheng quickly replied, “I am already preparing another tomb—”

“No need,” Zhu Xiang cut him off. “That is what he deserves. Listen to your uncle—let him stay with Chunhua. He failed as a father; this is what he deserves.”

Hearing the repeated “deserves,” Ying Zheng couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Alright, as you say, Uncle.”

Seeing him smile, Zhu Xiang finally relaxed and smiled as well. “Exactly. Listen to me on this one. If he’s unhappy, he can come fight me! My world’s Xia Tong could never beat me even after years of nurturing. Your sickly father wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Ying Zheng truly didn’t want to laugh—it felt unfilial—but he couldn’t help it.

Yes, Father really couldn’t beat Uncle. Father might not even beat Little Zheng’s adoptive father.

“Ah, time flies.” Zhu Xiang glanced upward. “Zheng’er, don’t be afraid. Death is only the beginning of another journey. Do your best, but don’t exhaust yourself. What you can’t finish, let Fusu do. What Fusu can’t finish, let your grandchildren do. Qin is long-lasting. It will not fall in one generation—absolutely not.”

Ying Zheng bowed his head. “Yes, Uncle.”

“Then—goodbye, Zheng’er.”

“Goodbye… Uncle.”

The dream shattered.

Ying Zheng awoke.

His heart, once turbulent, was now completely calm.

He stretched lazily, about to summon attendants—when he suddenly felt something heavy on him. He sat up to find books and papers piled all over his body, and even a tall plate of osmanthus cakes.

Ying Zheng sighed helplessly. “Uncle, you could have at least used a box…”

A headache.

“Father! You’re finally awake—you slept for two whole days…” Fusu rushed in, tearful—then froze. “Eh? These are…?”

“Your granduncle’s gifts,” Ying Zheng replied calmly.

Fusu: “???” Since when do I have an granduncle?!

…

After receiving the gifts, Ying Zheng became extremely busy.

Today, at last, he could rest.

Truly rest.

Facing death, he felt none of the panic he had imagined.

He remembered his uncle’s words—death was merely the beginning of a journey. So he made arrangements calmly, then closed his eyes, letting his consciousness slowly disperse.

He sank into darkness, then suddenly there was light. As Ying Zheng opened his eyes, he felt his memories, emotions, and experiences being stripped away, as if returning to infancy.

A star passed by him, and instinctively, he followed. “That is… Uncle?!”

Realization struck him.

【“So you are not my future. I am your future.”】

Little Zheng’s seemingly nonsensical words echoed in his ears.

“So that’s it… so that’s how it is…”

His soul grew purer.

He was reincarnating. After reincarnation he would still be himself—and yet not himself.

But he had already seen the future.

Little Zheng chose to absorb “knowledge,” but refused to become the “continuation of a past life.”

That was his own future as well.

Ying Zheng peacefully closed his eyes. Everything stripped from him dissolved. He allowed himself to become a new soul—a clean slate, a newborn awaiting birth. A baby who would be connected through dreams to his “past life”… yet fundamentally a new being.

Just as his consciousness was dissolving completely, he jolted.

Wait! If I become Little Zheng in the future…

Then Uncle’s “child-raising diary” will…

NO!!! I cannot forget this!!!

…

“Mm…” Little Ying Zheng woke with a start.

With his short, chubby limbs, he clumsily climbed off the bed, frowning deeply. He seemed to remember something—yet also not remember anything.

Ah! Uncle!

He leapt off his tiny bed, put on his little shoes, and dashed out, brushing past Aunt Xueji, who had come with warm water to wash him.

“Hmm? Zheng’er, why are you running so fast? Careful, you’ll fall!”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

He rushed into the courtyard. Lord Xun was knocking on Uncle’s head with a ruler, and Lord Wen was sternly scolding him.

Zhu Xiang, holding a sword and being reprimanded for his bad posture yet again, saw Little Zheng arriving like a savior.

He dropped the sword. “Ah, Zheng’er, here, Uncle is—ow!”

Little Zheng lowered his head, jumped, and rammed straight into him. Right in the kidney.

Zhu Xiang howled, grabbing the child. “Zheng’er, you ambushed your uncle again!”

Little Zheng climbed onto his uncle’s shoulders, grinning as he hugged his head. He couldn’t remember anything, but instinctively—he must ram Uncle!

“Good morning, Lord Xun, Lord Wen!” After the kidney attack, Little Zheng greeted them cheerfully.

“So well-behaved,” Lin Xiangru stroked his beard. “Just woken up?”

Xunzi put away the ruler and smiled. “Alright, go wash up.”

Little Zheng swayed atop Zhu Xiang’s head. “Okay! Uncle—charge!”

“What do you mean charge? Am I your horse? Fine, charge!” Zhu Xiang said with a laugh.

“Charge!” Little Zheng laughed back.

Xunzi shook his head. “So noisy.”

Lin Xiangru chuckled. “He’s still young. Liveliness is good.”

The two elders chatted casually as they walked inside. After Little Zheng washed, they would eat breakfast together.

Today Zhu Xiang had made beef rice-noodle soup. Lin Xiangru had eaten it before; Xunzi had not.

Soon after, Lin Zhi came in with messy hair and immediately got scolded. Cai Ze arrived with soup bowls beside Zhu Xiang, while Xueji dragged Little Zheng along, lecturing him endlessly.

“Zhu Xiang, what smells so good? What did you make this time?”

Lian Po kicked the door open.

Lin Xiangru exploded. “You old brute! You come freeload every day, and you still kick the door?!”

The two immediately started arguing again, and Zhu Xiang hurried to break them up.

Little Zheng looked around and shouted, “Zheng’er is hungry!”

Lian Po and Lin Xiangru immediately stopped.

A peaceful day began once more.