I started on a deserted island and encountered Ying Zheng, who insisted I was an immortal.

Zhao Gao trembled as he reached out his left hand and grasped the cold hilt of the sword.

Nearly thirty years of favor and trust, in the end, only earned him a dignified suicide.

He suddenly felt like laughing.

He did laugh, a strange smile spreading across his face, and a gurgling sound coming from his throat.

"Your Majesty... I thank you for... granting me death."

His voice was hoarse, like a broken gong.

He gripped the sword hilt with both hands and, with all his might, pointed the sharp longsword at his own neck.

Then, with a sudden pull.

"Pfft."

The sound of a sharp blade slicing through flesh was faint, yet terrifyingly clear.

A line of blood bloomed on his neck.

Zhao Gao's eyes widened as he stared intently at the young man who was still "unconscious" on the bed.

Those unfocused pupils were filled with endless resentment and unwillingness.

Fresh blood gushed out.

His body swayed and he fell heavily forward.

"Bang."

Inside the bamboo house, only the thick stench of blood remained, permeating the air.

"Drag him out."

Ying Zheng's voice was completely calm, as if he were simply instructing his servants to dispose of a piece of trash.

"Feeding the fish."

"Here you are."

Yin Xu waved his hand expressionlessly.

Two Xuanwu Guards strode forward, one grabbing one of Zhao Gao's legs and dragging the still-warm body out of the bamboo house like a dead dog.

On the ground, only a glaring, winding trail of blood remained.

……

Outside the bamboo house.

Li Si was standing bowing under the eaves, his forehead covered with fine beads of sweat.

He heard the final scream from inside the house, and the dull thud of someone falling to the ground.

His heart sank to the bottom.

Just then, two Xuanwu Guards dragged a corpse past him.

Li Si glanced at it subconsciously.

It was Zhao Gao.

Those unseeing eyes were staring straight at him.

Li Si froze, as if struck by lightning.

A chill ran from the soles of my feet straight up to the top of my head.

He staggered back two steps, nearly falling to the ground.

died.

The Chief of the Imperial Carriage Office, the emperor's most trusted eunuch, died just like that.

To die so swiftly, so... hastily.

Li Si recalled that not long ago, on the boat, Zhao Gao had subtly tried to win him over, implying that Fusu was unfit for the position and that Huhai was the better ruler.

At the time, he vaguely declined the offer, citing that the time was not yet right.

Looking back now, it wasn't that the time wasn't right; it was clearly that I hesitated at the gates of hell and didn't take that step.

Just one step away is the distance between life and death.

Your Majesty knows everything.

Zhao Gao's death was a warning and a lesson.

He warned Li Si, and also warned the entire court of civil and military officials.

Anyone who dares to harbor improper thoughts will face the consequences.

"Prime Minister, why is your face as white as paper?"

Wang Ben's deep, muffled voice rang out from the side, tinged with a hint of mockery.

"Could it be that he's been scared out of his wits?"

"presumptuous!"

Li Si regained his senses, suppressed the turmoil in his heart, and barely maintained the dignity of a prime minister.

"Your Majesty's divine might is like a prison, and yet, one's mind is captivated by it."

He said that, but the back of his court robe was already completely soaked with cold sweat.

Meng Yi stood aside, watching Zhao Gao's body being dragged towards the sea, his face showing no sympathy.

He recalled what his teacher had told him about the fate of himself and his elder brother Meng Tian.

One cup of poisoned wine, and he died and his reputation was ruined.

The mastermind behind all of this was Zhao Gao, and...

His peripheral vision swept over Li Si beside him.

Now, Zhao Gao has been executed.

What about Li Si?

What role will this Right Chancellor of Qin play in the storm stirred up by the gentleman?

Perhaps, it is a stepping stone to a higher place.

……

Inside the bamboo house, the stench of blood had not yet dissipated.

Ying Zheng stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the bloodstain that stretched from the center of the room to the doorway, without uttering a word.

Zhang Ying, lying on the bed, didn't dare to breathe.

As he listened to the conversation outside, and to Li Si's question filled with awe, his heart began to pound uncontrollably.

From this moment on, history, swayed by the flapping of his wings, was led down a completely unknown path.

Zhao Gao is dead.

That powerful eunuch who should have forced Fusu and Meng Tian to their deaths, called a deer a horse, and ultimately brought down the Qin Dynasty, died such a pathetic death on this deserted island.

All of this started simply because he had a few extra drinks and said a few extra words.

This feeling of changing history with one's own hands brought no sense of satisfaction whatsoever.

There is only one deep-seated fear of the unknown.

Inside, a deathly silence fell.

Zhang Ying continued to play dead; he just wanted to be invisible, a mere background figure.

"gentlemen."

Ying Zheng suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

"How long will this installation take?"

Zhang Ying's body stiffened instantly.

He knew he couldn't keep up the act any longer.

He slowly opened his eyes.

What came into view was Ying Zheng's face, which revealed neither joy nor anger.

Zhang Ying jolted awake and hurriedly tried to get out of bed to bow.

This is muscle memory ingrained in the bones of 21st-century corporate slaves: when you see your boss, stand up straight first.

"Please sit down."

Ying Zheng's voice was very calm.

"There's no need for such formalities in front of a gentleman."

Zhang Ying stopped moving. He sat helplessly on the edge of the bed, looking at the emperor who had just ordered the execution of a man, his mind blank.

That man, with just a few words, easily wiped out a life.

Fear, like countless cold hands, gripped his heart, making it hard for him to breathe.

Then, an absurd idea struggled to emerge from this terrifying ruin.

The grandfather paradox.

If he really went back in time and changed history, would he himself just disappear into thin air?

But what if this is a parallel universe?

A completely new timeline opened up by him, the intruder.

Here, whatever he does will not affect his original world.

This thought, like a bolt of lightning, cleaved through the chaos in his mind.

Correct.

It must be like this.

Otherwise, science cannot explain it.

Zhang Ying's heart skipped a beat, then began to pound wildly.

That's not fear.

That was...excitement.

An overwhelming, almost trembling excitement welled up within him.

He was no longer the unlucky guy waiting for rescue on a deserted island.

He became a butterfly flapping its wings.

A butterfly powerful enough to stir up a storm in history.

He began to rapidly assess the cards in his hand.

Potatoes, sweet potatoes, and seawater rice that yields a thousand kilograms per mu.

What do these things mean in the Qin Dynasty?

This means a population explosion, a surge in national power, and the transformation of once unattainable conquests into smooth roads under the iron heel of the enemy.

And that dormant system.

Although it's unknown when it can be restarted, as long as it's there, it's the biggest trump card.