In the secluded courtyard in the north corner of Xianyang Palace, the Ninth Prince Ying Ziye suddenly opened his eyes in his deep sleep. In the thirty-fifth year of Yingzheng's reign, the empire was already in decay under its splendor. The Xiongnu in the north repeatedly invaded the border, and the remnants of the six kingdoms were dormant in the dark. He clearly remembered that two years later, the First Emperor would die and Hu Hai massacred all the clan members. When he pressed his fingertips on his eyebrows, a cold voice sounded in his head: Abnormal vital signs were detected and the system was being activated. I closed my eyes and felt the cold current seeping into the sea of consciousness: It doesn't matter if I'm late, as long as I get ahead of Hu Hai. The faint footsteps of the palace people could be heard outside the courtyard.
