Qin Shihuang stared at him for a long time, and finally slowly closed his eyes: "Okay. I will let you cure it. But I want to tell you-"
He opened his eyes, and a cold light flashed in his eyes: "If you cure me, I will receive a reward of a thousand taels, and you will be granted a title of ten thousand households. If you cannot cure me, I will make life worse than death for you and your nine tribes."
Zhuge Ming lowered his head: "The common people understand."
From this day on, Zhuge Ming became Qin Shihuang's chief physician.
What he faced was not only Qin Shihuang's illness, but also the conspiracy, suspicion and murderous intentions everywhere in this palace.
Zhao Gao was sharpening his sword in secret, Li Si was wavering, Prince Fusu was far away in Shangjun, and Prince Hu Hai was in the palace, like a vulture waiting for carrion.
Zhuge Ming knew that the scalpel in his hand was not only related to the life and death of a patient, but also related to the fate of an empire.
