When I opened my eyes, the bitterness of the poisonous wine was still in my mouth.
Above the head is a familiar curtain with carved dragon and phoenix patterns, and under the body is a cold gold brocade quilt. There is a faint scent of sandalwood floating in the air, mixed with a smell that I can't ignore even after living for more than thirty years, dying and coming back to life - the smell of power decay.
I sat up suddenly.
In front of me is my former dormitory in Xianyang Palace. The bronze mirror reflected a face that was too young, even a little immature. I have seen this face countless times in history books and cursed it countless times in my dreams. It's me. It was the Fusu who was poisoned by Hu Hai and Zhao Gao in 210 BC, just before he was deposed as a commoner and taken to Shangjun.
I reached up and touched my throat. There are no scars, no pinholes, and the skin is incredibly smooth. Only the sticky pain in the memory lingered in my mind like a poisonous snake.
"Your Highness!" There were rapid footsteps outside the door, and a chamberlain rushed in staggeringly, with a look of horror on his face, "Your Highness is awake?! Imperial Physician! Call the Imperial Physician quickly!"
I stared at the face of the chamberlain and recognized him as Zhao An, my confidant who had been with me for twelve years. In my previous life, Zhao An had his tongue cut off by Zhao Gao's men and thrown into a dry well on the night I was poisoned. I watched his eyes go out in the darkness, but I didn't even have the strength to shout.
"Don't shout." I said, my voice hoarse, but with unquestionable strength, "I'm fine."
Zhao An froze on the spot and glanced at me
