Great Qin: The Adorably Oblivious Three-Year-Old Little Zombie Just Wants to Lie Flat

In the sixteenth year of the Qin dynasty, part of the Lishan Mausoleum construction site collapsed.

The laborers were scared out of their wits. Ying Zheng went to inspect the site in person, and a huge stone was moved aside.

Beneath it lay a three-year-old child.

Pale and chilly, with stiff little legs, she hopped out of the pit.

Her round eyes blinked, and she wrapped both arms around Ying Zheng’s leg.

“Too… noisy… Tangtang’s sleepy…”

Ying Zheng: “…”

The civil and military officials: “!!!”

He tossed her away three times, and the little zombie bounced back all three times.

The fourth time, the little dumpling pouted miserably, her big eyes brimming with tears. The First Emperor, whose name would live through the ages, felt his heart seize up.

From then on, Xianyang Palace had a hopping, bouncing little dumpling barely three heads tall.

Li Si submitted a memorial: This creature is ill-omened. It must be driven away! The little zombie folded his memorial into a paper airplane, bit off a corner, and ate it.

Meng Tian was drilling his troops: “Danger! Keep your distance!” The little zombie lifted his hundred-catty bronze halberd one-handed and used it as a teething stick, crunching away happily.

Zhao Gao schemed in secret: If only I could make use of this creature… The little zombie kicked him straight through a palace wall without changing expression, then turned around and went back to sleep.

Fusu gently offered her a sweet osmanthus cake: “Be good, Tangtang. Have some.” The little zombie’s eyes lit up. She bounced over, hugged his leg, and declared him her brother on the spot.

The First Emperor fretted every day: “Tangtang is so little and so soft. I must protect her properly.”

The officials looked at the three-year-old zombie who could lift a cauldron with one hand and kick down a palace wall, and fell into deep thought.