Qin Renhuang just became an immortal, and you told me this is the prehistoric time

“Ying Xuan, you have fully demonstrated your ability, skill, and character. Your decisiveness and perseverance are like mine, or even surpass mine.”

His voice was extremely low, each word as heavy as a mountain. "I believe in you. I believe you can forge ahead without hesitation and continue the Qin dynasty for ten thousand generations. I entrust this empire to you with complete peace of mind."

This is not a question.

That's for sure.

This is a final command from an emperor and a father to his successor.

The bedchamber fell silent. Only the flickering flame of the eternal lamp crackled softly. A night breeze drifted in through the cracks in the door, causing the curtains to sway gently and the shadows cast on the walls to dance.

After hearing these weighty words, which sounded like a deathbed entrustment, Ying Xuan stood there stunned for a moment.

He looked into his father's bloodshot eyes, which burned with a fierce fire; into his withered, gray face, which was stubborn and resolute; and into the hands that were tightly gripping his neck.

He knew that his father was not testing him, but was truly entrusting him with his final affairs.

But is Father Emperor's health really so critical that he must die?

Ying Xuan remained silent for a moment, then shook his head.

The head-shaking motion was very light, but in the eyes of the First Emperor, it was like a thunderclap.

But Ying Xuan knew perfectly well that his father's illness was not terminal; it was merely a result of excessive accumulation of erysipelas in his body, leading to physical weakness, coupled with the corrosive effects of the You Tan Xiang toxin, making it appear extremely dangerous. However, resolving this problem was not difficult for him.

He carries detoxification pills with him; one pill will neutralize the poison. Not to mention, he has even more heaven-defying methods. His system space contains all sorts of treasures capable of defying fate; if he wanted, he could even snatch someone from the jaws of death.

So he spoke up to comfort him, saying, "Father, you are in the prime of your life, why say such alarming things? This minor illness will heal soon, and when it does, I am willing to be the vanguard and sweep away those disloyal subjects for you."

"Whether it's the Baiyue or the remnants of the Six Kingdoms, I will go and crush them all. Please don't say such things... they hurt my feelings."

Ying Xuan tried to keep his tone relaxed, attempting to ease the heavy atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, the moment these words were spoken, the First Emperor flew into a rage.

With a loud "smack," the First Emperor slammed his withered hand against the wooden frame of the bed, cracking it. His other hand, gripping Ying Xuan's shoulder, tightened its grip, his knuckles almost digging into Ying Xuan's flesh.

His chest heaved violently, and he breathed heavily, like an enraged old tiger.

"you!"

The First Emperor's voice became even hoarse with rage, but his domineering aura only intensified. His eyes were wide open, the blood vessels on the whites of his eyes clearly visible, and his pupils blazed with almost tangible fury.

"What do you mean by this? Didn't you listen to what I said?!"

The First Emperor questioned him sternly, his voice echoing in the empty palace. "I ask you, are you afraid? Are you afraid of those cowardly remnants of the six states? Or are you afraid of those persuaders from the Hundred Schools of Thought? Or are you afraid of those barbarians from the Baiyue?"

He spoke more and more urgently, his chest heaving more and more violently, and a metallic, sweet taste rose in his throat again. But he forced down the blood in his throat and stared intently at Ying Xuan.

"Tell me! What are you afraid of!"

Seeing this situation, Ying Xuan was completely helpless.

He knew what kind of temper his father had. This emperor was used to being domineering throughout his life, and he always made the decisions.

He now believes his days are numbered and is solemnly entrusting the throne to his son. Yet, his son is here saying, "You won't die." In his father's eyes, this is tantamount to refusing to take over the throne, retreating, and failing his expectations.

Ying Xuan sighed and stopped beating around the bush.

He simply laid it all out.

"Father, I am not afraid."

Ying Xuan's tone was calm and composed, unhurried, as if stating a perfectly ordinary fact. "It's not that you need to die at all, and there's no need to entrust your affairs after death. Your son is absolutely confident that he can cure your illness."

This statement was made casually, yet every word was crystal clear.

The air in the palace seemed to freeze.

The First Emperor's furious eyes widened even more suddenly, and the raging anger in his pupils seemed to freeze instantly as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over them.

His mouth was open, his gray hair fell on both sides of his face, and his chapped lips moved a few times, but he couldn't utter a single word.

The emperor who had just delivered his last words with such grandeur and weight that they seemed as imposing as Mount Tai was completely stunned.

Inside the palace, the flame of the eternal lamp flickered slightly, casting a patchwork of light and shadow on the First Emperor's withered, ashen face.

Ying Xuan spoke casually, as if he were merely stating an ordinary matter. But to the First Emperor, it was like a thunderbolt cleaving through the gloom that had shrouded his heart for days.

For the first time, this powerful emperor showed an almost uncontrollable expression in front of his son—his lips moved slightly, his white beard trembled slightly, and his bloodshot but still sharp eyes stared intently at Ying Xuan's face, as if trying to find the slightest trace of a joke on that face.

He had just delivered his last words with great momentum. He began by recounting the past kings of the Qin Dynasty, then spoke of his achievements in conquering the six states, his unfinished regrets, his fear of having no successor, and his helplessness in the face of time.

He poured out all the words that had been bottled up in his heart all his life, speaking with conviction and passion, as if this were his final words.

He had even prepared himself to die, ready to meet the past kings who awaited him in his dreams.

Yingxuan told him that the disease was not incurable and that he didn't need to die.

The First Emperor's first reaction was not joy, but an extremely complex anger. It was an anger that felt like punching cotton, or like a breath stuck in his chest that he couldn't exhale.

His words just now were so solemn, so profound, so much like an emperor's dying entrustment to his successor. But now, Ying Xuan's single sentence rendered all of that superfluous.

His right hand clenched unconsciously, his knuckles turning even paler from the force, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged out.

He suppressed the urge to take action, repeatedly reminding himself that this was his most outstanding son, the future crown prince of Qin. If he were killed, no one would be able to inherit the foundation he had built with his life's blood and sweat.

With this self-hypnotic thought, the surging emotions in the First Emperor's chest gradually calmed down. He took a deep breath, his thin chest slightly swelling, and then slowly exhaled. When he spoke again, the rage in his voice had largely dissipated, replaced by a cautious, bewildered tone.

"You...you really have a way?"

The question was asked with extreme restraint, but the slightly rising tone at the end still revealed the shock in his heart.

His hands gripped Ying Xuan's shoulders again, this time not out of anger, but to confirm that the son before him was real and not a hallucination he had while unconscious.

Ying Xuan met his father's gaze with a calm and composed expression. He nodded, his movements unhurried and deliberate, as if answering an utterly ordinary question.

"The root of my father's illness lies in the long-term consumption of elixirs refined by Xu Fu, a master of Yin-Yang philosophy."

Ying Xuan's voice was not loud, but every word was clear, each word like a nail driven into the First Emperor's ears. "Those elixirs may seem to boost one's spirit, but in reality, they are overdrawing the body's life potential."

Every burst of energy after taking medication comes at the cost of depleting one's own vital energy. Toxins accumulate deeper and deeper in the body, eventually becoming irreversible.

As he spoke, he paused slightly, his gaze sweeping across the First Emperor's face as if observing his reaction.

"Your subject happens to have a detoxification pill on hand, which can neutralize this poison."

Upon hearing this, the First Emperor's brows furrowed sharply. His brow bones were high, and when he frowned, his entire face appeared exceptionally sharp. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then stopped. After a moment, he spoke in an extremely complex tone.

"Every time I take that pill, I feel my energy increase dramatically, and even the fatigue from reviewing memorials disappears."

His voice carried a hint of confusion and resentment, "That feeling was so real, how did it turn into poison?"

Ying Xuan shook his head, a very light movement, yet it conveyed a sense of certainty.

“Father, the more immediate the effect of the True Man Pill, the more it indicates that it is overdrawing a person’s life potential.”

His tone was as calm as if he were explaining the simplest truth: "It's like a wooden bucket, and the water in the bucket is a person's life force. A normal person uses a little bit, and it diminishes. Although there is some loss, it won't damage the foundation."

But the elixir was like constantly tearing apart the planks of a wooden barrel to burn as firewood; the brighter the fire, the faster the barrel crumbled. Each time the pill gave the patient a burst of energy, it was bought with those discarded planks. Once all the planks were gone, the barrel would naturally collapse.

As he said this, he raised his hand and opened his palm.

A golden pill lay quietly in his palm. The pill was about the size of a thumb, its surface smooth as a mirror, and under the light of the ever-burning lamp, it shone with a warm golden luster, like a carefully polished golden bead.

Even more strangely, the pill emitted a faint fragrance, an extremely pure aroma with an indescribable sense of clarity. Taking a sniff made one feel as if every pore on their body opened up.

Ying Xuan had redeemed this pill from the system space before entering the palace. The system's redemption list contained thousands of pills, and the Detoxification Pill was only the lowest grade among them, but it was more than enough to deal with the poison in the First Emperor's body.

The First Emperor's gaze fell on the golden pill, and his pupils contracted slightly. He reached out his hand, his movements slow, his fingers pausing in the air for a moment before he picked the pill up from Ying Xuan's palm.

When his fingertips touched the surface of the pill, he could clearly feel its smooth, jade-like texture, along with a faint warmth.

He hesitated only slightly before throwing the pill into his mouth.

The movements were swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation, just like every decision he made on the battlefield in his youth. Once he chose to believe, he would never look back.

The elixir melts instantly upon entering the mouth.

Before the First Emperor could even feel its shape with his tongue, the golden pill had already turned into a warm, fragrant liquid and slid down his throat.

The temperature of the liquid was just right, neither too hot nor too cold, like a warm current spreading from the mouth all the way to the chest cavity, and then exploding in the stomach.

The next moment, the immense medicinal power transformed into a surging warm current, rushing out from his dantian and flowing along his meridians to his limbs and bones.

That power circulated rapidly within his body, like a dragon that had been imprisoned for a long time finally breaking free of its shackles, rampaging through the meridians of his entire body.

The First Emperor could clearly feel the medicinal power reaching his meridians, where the dark toxins that had accumulated for many years were washed away layer by layer, just like a riverbed swept clean by a flood.

After circulating throughout his body, that force seemed to have found its target.

Immediately afterwards, the First Emperor felt a tearing pain coming from deep within his lower abdomen. The pain was extremely intense, as if something had been forcibly pulled out of his body by an invisible hand.

His face turned deathly pale in an instant, cold sweat poured down his forehead, and his gray hair was soaked with sweat, sticking to his cheeks.

He bent over abruptly, a metallic, sweet taste rising in his throat.

"puff--"

A mouthful of blood spurted from his mouth.

The blood wasn't a normal bright red, but a strange purplish-black. As it fell onto the bluestone bricks, it hissed softly and emitted a wisp of black smoke.

The black smoke carried a pungent, fishy stench, like the smell of a long-rotten corpse.

The purplish-black blood congealed into dark patches on the bluestone bricks, with a faint dark purple halo around the edges, which were the remnants of the erysipelas that had been forced out of the blood.

After spitting out this mouthful of poisonous blood, the First Emperor felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

That ease wasn't a fleeting relief, but a lightness that welled up from the depths of one's bones.

Over the years, he had been taking elixirs refined by Xu Fu. After each dose, he was indeed full of energy, but that energy always carried an inexplicable sense of emptiness, like walking a tightrope in the air, seemingly majestic, but with an abyss beneath his feet.

Now, that sense of superficiality has disappeared, replaced by a down-to-earth and steady feeling.

What shocked him even more was that a surge of vital energy was gushing out from inside his body.

That vital energy was extremely pure, like a spring that had been sealed for a long time finally breaking through the blockage and bubbling out.

Wherever the vital energy passes, the meridians that had atrophied due to long-term consumption of elixirs expand again, the dried-up sea of ​​qi is replenished, and even the bones and muscles are regaining vitality at an incredible speed.

The First Emperor could clearly feel the changes within himself. His withered hands visibly became fuller; though still thin, they were no longer skin and bones, but had regained the color and elasticity of a normal person's hands. (End of Chapter)