My Great Qin Is Dead

My great Qin is dead In the autumn of the thirty-seventh year, the sand dunes were cold to the bones, and the dragon returned to heaven. I was originally the most pampered son of the First Emperor. I had no intention of becoming emperor and just wanted to live out my remaining days in peace. However, I was pushed into a chess game of rebellion, and I faked an imperial edict to kill my brother and ascend to the throne of God. The dragon chair is cold, the palace is bloody, Zhao Gao takes power, Li Si compromises, I am the nominal emperor of Qin, but I am a puppet in the eyes of the world. Referring to deer as horses, wars are everywhere, chaos in Guandong, and the resumption of the Six Kingdoms. I watched the thousands of miles of mountains and rivers built by my father sweep Liuhe, crumbling little by little in my hands, and watched the lights of Xianyang Palace swaying in the wind and rain. Wine ponds and meat forests cannot hide the fear in the heart, and the singing and dancing of the swallows cannot withstand the cold heart of the whole court. Finally, Wangyi Palace's sword touched my neck. I understand that the fall of the Qin Dynasty was never my fault alone, but after all, it was me who personally signed this deed of subjugation. As a second generation, I express the sorrow of the country's subjugation. This is the elegy of the Qin Dynasty that I, Hu Hai, wrote in my three years as emperor.