In the forty-ninth year of the First Emperor's reign, heavy drums suddenly sounded in the camp outside the Great Wall. Just when Zhen Zhen returned to the capital following Zhao Gaomi's edict, the generals on both sides drew their swords and shouted angrily: Do you want to die if you don't kneel down when you see Your Highness? He cupped his hands and smiled, turned around and left. I sat with my sword in my hand and stared at the figure behind him. Dozens of soldiers poured into the tent. The blade of the sword reflected the morning light. Zhen Gang slowly lowered his sword and turned around: What is the purpose of your highness? I bowed my head and told the case: Zhao Gao only needs a secret order to pass the imperial edict, and only if you come back alive will he truly believe that I have obeyed the order. The sword was three inches out of its scabbard. His pupils shrank.
