I am Fusu, the one whose throne was usurped by Huhai and who was condemned to death by Li Si and Zhao Gao through a forged imperial edict.
But in this life, I won’t be gentle, courteous, modest, and yielding anymore.
My father asked me, “What do you want?”
I said, “I want the Great Qin to survive for another two thousand years.”
The First Emperor laughed.
Later, he stopped laughing. Because I tripled the grain yield in Guanzhong with a bag of fertilizer.
Because I stopped the Xiongnu cavalry with a single cement wall.
Because I had already quietly bought off seventy percent of the Imperial Guard’s officers.
On the night the First Emperor fell gravely ill, Zhao Gao came to me with a blank imperial edict.
I looked at him and smiled. “Guess who let you in?”
