He was transformed into the twentieth son of the Qin Dynasty and spent three hundred days chewing on his remaining bones without anyone paying attention. The palace was full of intrigues and intrigues, and I huddled in a corner waiting to die. The moment the system came to the system, two options popped up: to detect your inner voice, you could become emperor in three years or your soul would be destroyed; if your inner voice spilled out, you would scold anyone you saw three hundred times. I clenched the chicken bones in my hand and looked up at the throne - Ying Zheng was raising a glass to drink with Li Si, and no one in the hall paid attention to me. I chose the second one. Scold him three hundred times before talking.
