Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

"Other worlds?"

The surrendered official suddenly became interested, released Ying Gou's hand, walked a few steps to Qin Chuan, circled him halfway, and his fingertips almost touched his imperial robe:

"You mean, like Yuan Tiangang, you can shatter the void? You've barely settled into this throne, and you're already leaving?"

Her eyes gleamed with excitement, as if she had heard some incredible secret.

The power struggles and grudges of this world had long since lost their appeal to her, but the words "other worlds" were like a pebble thrown into the center of a lake, stirring up the curiosity deep within her.

Ying Gou also stepped forward and stood beside the surrendered minister. This time, she didn't mention "sparring" again, but looked at Qin Chuan with a rare eagerness in her eyes: "Take me with you too!"

Upon hearing this, the surrendered official turned to her and teased, "Oh, so you can't bear to part with your beloved?"

Although he was smiling, his eyes lit up.

She had lived too long and witnessed too much life and death. There were very few interesting people in her life, and Qin Chuan was the first one who could make her feel "not bored". She didn't want to let go of him easily.

The Empress then walked over carrying Meiguo, with Chi Meng and Lu Linxuan on either side of her. The light from the small red lantern fell on her face, as warm as the spring sun.

She walked to Qin Chuan's side, her gaze sweeping over the shy Yelü Zhiwu, the eager surrendered officials and Ying Gou, before finally settling on Qin Chuan's face. She smiled and spoke:

"Now there are quite a lot of people."

She paused, then lightly tapped Qin Chuan's chest with her fingertip, her tone slightly teasing:

"Can our Emperor take so many people with him?"

Qin Chuan touched his nose, somewhat helplessly.

The god who brought him to this world never said there were any restrictions on taking people away.

He didn't even know when he would leave—maybe tomorrow, maybe next year, maybe... he would never leave.

"should……"

He gave a vague reply, but before he could finish speaking, the Empress interrupted him.

"Since Your Majesty is so capable and willing to take on more work," the Empress suddenly waved to Ji Ruxue and the others in the distance, her voice clear and bright, "then surely even with them added, you can manage?"

Upon hearing this, Ji Ruxue and the others laughed and said in unison, "Wherever Your Majesty goes, we will go."

Looking at the group of beautiful women in front of him, Qin Chuan suddenly felt a tightness in his forehead. He subconsciously put one hand on his forehead and the other on his waist.

How could he not understand the implied meaning in the Empress's words?

I felt a dull ache somewhere in my body, as if I was already sensing the "sweet burden" of the future.

The night breeze suddenly warmed up, carrying the scent of the girls' cosmetics and the moisture from Taiye Pond, lingering around him.

"Let's go, Your Majesty." The Empress took his arm first, her tone affectionate. "It's late, we should rest."

Yelü Zhiwu also mustered her courage and quietly tugged at his other sleeve.

Chi Meng was even more direct, skipping and hopping behind him and hugging his waist.

Jiang Chen and Ying Gou followed beside them. Jiang Chen was whispering something to Ying Gou, which made Ying Gou's lips curl up slightly.

Ji Ruxue and the others walked a little behind, the glow of the lanterns following them all the way, melting the frost on the palace path.

Qin Chuan was surrounded and walked forward, the hem of his imperial robe brushing against the skirts of the crowd, creating a series of soft rustling sounds.

Looking at the swaying lanterns and listening to the laughter around him, he suddenly felt that whether he could sit on the dragon throne for a long time or when he would leave this world was no longer so important.

The Empress gently pushed open the copper rings on the palace gate, making a soft "creak" sound.

The candlelight inside the door leaked out from the crack, casting a warm glow on the floor.

He lifted his foot, about to step into the light.

Suddenly, feeling a pang of emotion, I looked back once more.

Under the locust tree, Shi Yao stood there holding an oil-paper lamp.

Her pale white dress billowed slightly in the night breeze, and the lamplight cast shimmering light in her eyes.

The moment their eyes met, Qin Chuan suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it spread from the corners of her eyes to the tips of her eyebrows, like crushed moonlight gently falling on her face.

Shi Yao paused, her fingers gripping the lamppost curled slightly, and she also raised her eyes.

The wind swept through the palace walls, carrying away the sound of the copper bells on the eaves.

The warm light inside the palace gates still flowed, and the sparse moonlight outside remained bright.

He stood on the edge of the light, she stood in the depths of the shadow, separated by half a palace corridor, and by a tacit understanding that was slowly shrinking...

Chapter 1 When Brother Zheng really becomes Brother Zheng

The chill is the first sharp blade to pierce through the chaos.

It wasn't the damp coolness of the imperial city at night, but a bone-chilling, ancient palace-like cold, like bronze artifacts buried for millennia, its chill penetrating the skin.

Qin Chuan suddenly opened his eyes, and the dark blue tent top with black bird patterns came into view. The gilded bronze bells hanging from the corners of the tent were not moving at all, not even a trace of wind.

This is not his bedroom.

The warm light on the palace road last night, the laughter of the girls, the temperature of the Empress's fingertips, the strength with which Yelü Zhiwu gripped his sleeve... those vivid sensations have not yet faded, but they are already separated by an invisible barrier, as if from another world.

A vast and ancient echo resounded in my mind, not a mechanical prompt, but more like the gentle trembling of an ancient will:

"Your chosen successor have already been tempered in the world of 'The Bad Guys,' and now I send you to the world of 'Qin's Moon' to test yourself."

Qin Chuan's heart suddenly relaxed. The voice lacked the coldness of a command, yet carried an undeniable authority. He grasped the key—the successor, the trial.

"Those who travel with you shall remain where they are; do not worry."

Sure enough, they were still in the world of Bad Guys. This will seemed to see through his deepest concerns, and a few words from it soothed his anxiety.

"In this world, your name is Ying Chuan, the younger brother of King Zheng of Qin. You were held hostage in Zhao for many years, suffered humiliation that drove you mad, and only now have you returned to Xianyang."

"Your body and your abilities are all in you."

Unfamiliar fragments of memory flooded back like a tide—the pebbly rain in the cold alleys of Handan, the moldy wheat cakes, the suffocating feeling of being pressed into the mud, the children's vicious curses of "Qin dog"... and a pair of eyes that occasionally peeked at him through the crack in the door, filled with forbearance and guilt.

"The test: to unite the world and subdue all the philosophers."

Qin Chuan paused for a moment.

To unify the world? That's even grander than the vast empire he conquered in the world of Bad Guys.

He subconsciously curled his fingers, feeling a familiar connection between his muscles and bones. The calluses on his palms and the old wounds on his wrists were all his own marks.

The military strength remains, and that is the foundation for our trials.

A soft call came from the bedside, carrying the clear, youthful voice of a boy who had not yet fully shed his youthful appearance, yet already subtly revealing a solemn and dignified air.

Qin Chuan looked up and met a pair of eyes as deep as the night sky over the Wei River.

The dark brocade robe was embroidered with intricate cloud and thunder patterns, a jade belt cinched his waist, and a lustrous jade hairpin adorned his hair; he was none other than the young King Ying Zheng of Qin.

It was just less ruthless than in historical records, but more sharp and restrained—clearly, this was a period before he took personal control of the government, and the rebellion of Cheng Jiao was probably not far off.

"Brother Zheng..." Qin Chuan imitated Ying Chuan's timidity in his memory, his voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, his eyes blinking blankly as he naturally uttered the more intimate term of address.

The way he addressed him as "Brother Zheng" not only fit the brotherly relationship but also carried a touch of innocent naiveté, perfectly matching his state of "recovering from dementia".

Ying Zheng was indeed taken aback for a moment, a hint of surprise flashing across his eyes, which then spread with obvious warmth. He reached out and touched Ying Zheng's forehead, his movements hesitant and cautious: "Does your head still hurt? You had a high fever last night and didn't even recognize your brother Zheng."

His fingertips touched the warm skin, and he frowned slightly. "Still feverish, summon the imperial physician."

"No need." Qin Chuan quickly grabbed his sleeve, deliberately using very light force. "I'm much better, Brother Zheng."

Ying Zheng then stopped, and sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking the blanket around him: "The imperial kitchen made lotus root starch soup, we'll have some later."

He looked at Qin Chuan, his eyes swirling with complex emotions—guilt, pity, and an undeniable protectiveness. "Brother Chuan, Brother Zheng has found a renowned doctor for you. She will arrive soon."

“It’s Dongjun Yanfei from the Yin-Yang School.” Ying Zheng paused, his voice tinged with caution. “It’s said that they can understand the mysteries of heaven and earth and cure difficult and complicated diseases. They’ll surely find a way to make you better.”

Yin-Yang School? Dongjun Yanfei?

Qin Chuan understood.

It truly is the world of "Qin's Moon." Those philosophers from the Hundred Schools of Thought who once dominated history books and legends will soon be entering his testing ground one by one.

His test was to subdue them.

A brilliant idea flashed through his mind like lightning—Ying Zheng.

This future First Emperor, at this moment still a patient and dormant King of Qin, already had the three words "unification" engraved in his bones.

He had always harbored ambitions to conquer the world, unify the written language, and standardize the gauge of carts.

All I had to do was help this "Brother Zheng" expand his target from the "Seven Kingdoms" to the "world" and, incidentally, suppress those philosophers of the Hundred Schools of Thought who were always talking about "reviving the extinct and continuing the interrupted."

It's practically a perfect trial aid.

Qin Chuan lowered his head, concealing the fleeting glint of shrewdness in his eyes, and continued to play the coward: "Will they... hit me?"

"With Brother Zheng here, who would dare to hurt you?" Ying Zheng's voice was resolute, carrying the unique sharpness of a young man. "When you're better, Brother Zheng will take you to shoot fish in the Wei River and watch the sunrise at Hangu Pass."

Qin Chuan nodded vigorously, but his fingertips tapped his knees lightly under the quilt.

Ying Zheng is currently hampered by Lü Buwei and Lao Ai, and even assuming personal rule requires restraint. His "foolish younger brother" will likely have to clear the snow from his ally's door before he can better advance the trials.

Ying Zheng gave a few more instructions, then rose to attend to state affairs. His dark figure disappeared behind the palace gate, leaving behind a trail of footsteps that faded into the distance.

That ancient will echoed in his mind once more:

"Considering you are new to the trial, I grant you the convenience of returning. You are to return to the 'Bad Guys' realm for one day only, and may re-enter after more than a month. You may also summon someone here, with the same time limit."

"The light flows differently in the two realms; the other realm is almost stagnant. You can proceed with your trial in peace."

Qin Chuan suddenly looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which then turned into an indescribable warmth.

Can I go back? And can I bring people with me?

More importantly, time in the world of Bad Guys is almost frozen.

No matter how many years he lingered in Xianyang Palace, when he returned, the water in Taiye Pond would probably still be at the same temperature as last night, Meiguo in the Empress's arms might still be curled up in the same position, and Yelü Zhiwu's reddened ears might still carry the lingering warmth of the lanterns.

The one-day time limit and the one-month cooling-off period suddenly seemed less harsh.

He could calmly establish himself in this era, accompany Ying Zheng through Lü Buwei's obstruction, witness the bloodshed of Cheng Jiao's rebellion, and wait until the future First Emperor truly grasped power before gradually unfolding the blueprint for "unifying the world."

Anyway, one day he'll be able to go back with a smile and say, "I'm back, but I was only gone for a day."