I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

Meng Tian stood up from the ground and patted the dirt off his knees. He turned around and walked towards the camp gate, taking long strides, his boots making a dull thud on the ground.

Luo Fei followed behind him, and the two passed through the camp gate and walked along the dirt road between the tents.

The road wasn't wide, and tents lined both sides, with weapon racks, food sacks, and water tanks piled up at the entrances.

Several soldiers were squatting on the ground wiping their armor. When they saw Meng Tian approaching, they immediately stood up at attention and saluted. Only after he had passed did they squat down again to continue their work.

Luo Fei's long robe trailed along the dirt road, and the blue and white starlight seemed particularly ethereal against the backdrop of gray tents and weapons.

Fusu's tent was located at the deepest part of the camp, near the river.

The tent flap was rolled up, revealing the furnishings inside.

There was a small table with bamboo slips piled on it, a writing brush resting on a brush holder, ink already ground, and ink still in the inkstone.

There was a bed with a bamboo mat on it, and a linen quilt folded on top of the mat.

There was a wooden shelf in the corner, with a bow and a quiver of arrows hanging on it. The bow was made of ox horn, and the bowstring was made of ox sinew.

Fusu stood in front of the table, holding a scroll of bamboo slips in his hand, engrossed in reading it.

He was wearing a dark blue robe with a black leather belt around his waist. He was not wearing a crown, but only had his hair tied up with a cloth, which was a bit old.

He was taller and bigger than Luo Fei had imagined. He wasn't the thin, frail type of a scholar; he was the kind of robust man who had practiced martial arts, ridden horses, and spent years in the military.

He had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and the muscle definition in his arms was visible even through the fabric of his robe.

His skin was tanned to a bronze color, unlike the fair complexion of a frail scholar. He had large eyes with double eyelids, slightly upturned corners, and a gentle gaze.

He heard footsteps, looked up, and saw Meng Tian lift the curtain and walk in, followed by a man wearing a blue and white gradient robe.

The young man's clothes seemed to be shimmering with starlight.

His brows furrowed slightly.

"General, who is this gentleman?"

He asked, puzzled.

Meng Tian stepped aside to allow Fusu to see Luo Fei clearly, and at the same time raised his hand to signal in Luo Fei's direction.

"My lord, this envoy has come to the military camp with His Majesty's jade pendant, saying he wishes to see you. This humble general dared not stop him, so I brought him here."

Fusu's gaze fell on the white jade pendant in Luo Fei's hand. His pupils contracted slightly, and his grip on the bamboo slip tightened.

He recognized the jade pendant; he had known it since childhood. It was the First Emperor's personal jade pendant, and seeing the pendant was like seeing the First Emperor himself.

He placed the bamboo slips on the table very quietly, without making a sound.

He walked out from behind the desk, stood in front of Luo Fei, bowed, and clasped his hands in greeting.

"Fusu greets the Imperial Envoy. May I ask your honorable name, Imperial Envoy? From Xianyang? What is the Emperor's decree?"

Luo Fei looked at Fu Su's face, that face tanned to bronze by the sun, those gentle big eyes, that jawline that looked like it had been sculpted by a knife.

He thought to himself, "This is the First Emperor's eldest son, this is Fusu, who should have inherited the throne but committed suicide because of a forged edict."

Historical records say he was "benevolent but weak," unsuitable to be emperor, too indecisive, and no match for Hu Hai.

But historical records do not describe what he looked like or his physique.

Looking at Fusu's posture, Luo Fei realized it was the kind of stance only someone who had practiced martial arts for a long time and had been through the hardships of military life could adopt.

Feet shoulder-width apart, center of gravity slightly lowered, knees relaxed, waist upright, shoulders not hunched. This is not the posture of a "cowardly" person.

"My name is Luo Fei, and I come from Xianyang. His Majesty has ordered me to escort the young master back to Xianyang. General Meng will also be returning with us."

Luo Fei looked at Fusu and spoke calmly.

Fusu frowned slightly, but did not ask why.

His gaze fell on the jade pendant. Seeing the jade pendant was like seeing the First Emperor. His father's orders never needed to be explained.

"How is Father's health?" He asked, his voice trembling with nervousness, as if he had just remembered something.

Luo Fei said, "Your Majesty is well."

Fusu's shoulders relaxed slightly.

He turned and walked to the bedside, dragging a wooden box out from under the bed. It was painted black, but the paint was worn and the natural wood color was showing through the edges.

He opened the box, folded several pieces of clothing and put them inside, then took out a few scrolls of bamboo slips and stuffed them next to the clothes.

He took another cloth bag containing dry rations and a water bag. He closed the box, fastened the latch, picked it up, and walked over to Luo Fei.

"Your Excellency, I am ready."

Meng Tian stood at the tent entrance, watching Fusu pack his luggage, but did not go in to help, because he knew that Fusu did not like others touching his things.

He turned around, stepped out of the tent, and instructed the deputy general guarding the entrance: "I am returning to Xianyang with the envoy. The camp will be temporarily under your command. Make sure to guard the camp gates strictly, keep the soldiers disciplined, and continue daily drills as usual. If there is any emergency, report to Xianyang immediately."

The lieutenant stood at attention, cupped his hands, and uttered a short, forceful "Yes."

Meng Tian then said to another lieutenant, "Prepare three horses. Choose the fastest ones."

The lieutenant accepted the order and turned to run towards the stable.

Meng Tian stood at the tent entrance, his hand on the hilt of his sword, watching the soldiers training in the distance.

The soldiers were running, shouting, brandishing their swords and bayonets, raising dust and glaring sunlight.

His expression remained unchanged, but his mind was racing.

He didn't know why His Majesty suddenly summoned Fusu back to Xianyang, why His Majesty wanted him to go back as well, or who this young man in the blue and white robe was.

Fusu came out of the tent carrying a wooden box and stood next to Luo Fei.

Meng Tian's deputy brought three horses from the stable: one black and two brown.

The horse's mane was combed very smoothly, the saddle was polished to a shine, and the reins were made of cowhide that felt smooth in the hand.

The horse snorted, pawed at the ground a couple of times, and impatiently flicked its tail.

The lieutenant handed the reins to Meng Tian, ​​who took them, gave one to Fusu, and then gave another to Luo Fei.

Luo Fei didn't answer, saying "No need."

Meng Tian's hand froze in mid-air, the reins swayed slightly, he glanced at Luo Fei's face, didn't ask why, pulled the reins back, and tied them to his own saddle.

Fusu nimbly mounted his horse, his feet in the stirrups, leaping up without gripping the saddle or bracing himself on the ground. He sat on the horse, holding the reins, and looked at Luo Fei.

"Your Excellency, the distance from Shangjun to Xianyang is a thousand li, and it would take at least seven or eight days to travel by horse."

There was no hint of complaint in his tone; he was simply confirming the itinerary.

Meng Tian also mounted his horse, settled firmly in the saddle, leaned slightly forward, held the reins in one hand, and looked at Luo Fei.

Luo Fei shook his head, gesturing for them to dismount.

Despite their doubts, the two dismounted as instructed.

He stretched out his hands, one hand holding Fusu's arm and the other holding Meng Tian's arm.

Fusu's arm muscles were strong, and even through the fabric of his robe, one could feel the strength in them.

Meng Tian's arm was even harder, like an iron rod covered with leather.

Fusu's body stiffened slightly, not out of fear, but as an instinctive reaction to being suddenly touched.

Meng Tian's hand rested on the hilt of the sword, but he did not pull it out; however, his fingers had already gripped the hilt's guard.

"Don't move."

Luo Fei said something, and Fu Su loosened his grip on the reins.

The lieutenant stood to the side, still holding the reins of the brown horse, watching the three men suddenly disappear from sight.

The lieutenant's mouth was open, and he forgot to close it.

The next second, Luo Fei and the other two were standing in the main hall of Xianyang Palace.

The First Emperor sat upright beside a table, with several scrolls of bamboo slips spread out in front of him, and a writing brush in his hand, the tip of which hovered above the bamboo slips.

He heard the noise, looked up, and saw Fusu.

The pen in his hand fell, leaving a crooked ink mark on the bamboo slip.

Fusu stood in the hall, his gaze shifting from the First Emperor's face to his fingers.

He saw the First Emperor's gaunt face and the bulging veins on the back of his hand.

His eyes were slightly red.

The First Emperor raised his hand from the table and beckoned to Fusu.

Fusu strode to the First Emperor, knelt down, and his knees slammed onto the floor with a dull thud.

He lowered his head, his forehead almost touching the floor, and his voice was squeezed out from his throat, sounding somewhat hoarse.

"Father, your son has returned."