In the morning at Xianyang Palace, I leaned against the pillars and let out a long yawn. All the civil and military officials in the palace looked sideways, and Ying Zheng snorted coldly. My name was suddenly mentioned in the palace examination edict, and everyone snickered - the good-for-nothing Ninth Young Master couldn't even recognize the characters. I lowered my eyes and rubbed my sore eyelids, and suddenly a mechanical voice exploded in my head: The pretentious face-slapping system is being bound. Three light spots floated in front of his eyes: Impeaching Fusu gave him full-level calligraphy, impeaching Hu Hai gave him ten thousand acres of fine seeds, and impeaching Qin Shihuang gave him the power of overlord. I raised my eyes and looked at the skinny figure on the dragon throne, my throat moved slightly: Choose three. There was dead silence in the hall for a moment, and then he slowly spoke: I want to hear what you dare to say.
