In the Linde Hall of the Imperial City of Xianyang, I was awakened by a soft voice and opened my eyes - there were carved beams and painted pillars, a dragon and a red sandalwood bed, and the audience was filled with ministers standing in darkness. Memories flooded in: In the thirty-sixth year of the Qin Dynasty, I was the youngest son of the First Emperor. Next year, the First Emperor died and the Second Emperor of Qin died. As a six-year-old prince, I couldn't even lift a sword. There was a ding-dong in my mind, and the national luck system was activated to bind the luck of the Qin Dynasty. The officials looking at each other below were waiting for me to speak. I cleared my throat and asked, "What's new today?"
