Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

"My son, did you see clearly? It really was someone sent by the King?"

Zhao Ji's voice trembled.

Qin Chuan nodded emphatically, pulled a handful of dried fruit from his sleeve, and stuffed it into his mouth, looking exactly like a fool:

"They even said they were going to the Liang Ai Palace in Yongcheng!"

Lao Ai's face turned deathly pale instantly.

He excused himself to change and hurriedly left the table, but did not notice the cold glint that flashed in the eyes of the "foolish" young master.

Three days later, news came from Yongcheng that Lao Ai had stolen the Empress Dowager's seal to mobilize troops.

Ying Zheng was prepared and ordered Changping Jun Mi Qi to lead troops to suppress the rebellion. When Mi Qi entered the palace in armor to receive his orders, Qin Chuan was playing chess with Yan Fei in a side hall.

"Lord Changping arrived very quickly," Yanfei said, placing a black piece. "It's as if she's been waiting for this imperial edict."

Qin Chuan watched Mi Qi's departing figure.

This relative of the Chu state was so respectful that no one could tell he was secretly colluding with the six states to rebel against Qin.

Qin Chuan didn't want to expose him for the time being.

This Lord Changping is a good bait; he can be used to gather those anti-Qin forces together and then wipe them out when the time is right.

"No rush." ​​Qin Chuan's white piece cut off the black piece's escape route. "Fishing requires patience."

Yan Fei suddenly pushed aside the chessboard, saying, "I don't like that look in your eyes."

What kind of look is that?

"Look at Mi Qi's eyes." Yan Fei stood up, her skirt sweeping over the scattered chess pieces. "Just like Sister Song said, when you're scheming, your eyes are like a frozen lake."

Qin Chuan paused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly.

He rose and pulled Yan Fei back to her seat, his fingers tracing the furrowed brow of her face: "Then what do you see in my eyes right now?"

Yan Fei gazed into the deep blackness and saw her reflection gradually enveloped by gentle ripples.

Her ears suddenly turned red, and she turned her face away: "There... there's a foolish woman who's been fooled."

Suddenly, the sound of orderly hooves came from outside the palace walls; it was Mi Qi leading his army toward Yongcheng.

Qin Chuan suppressed his smile and whispered in Yan Fei's ear, "I'll come to your place tonight; I have some questions about Yin-Yang arts to ask Lord Dongjun."

He deliberately emphasized the word "ask for advice" in an ambiguous way, successfully causing Yan Fei's neck to flush red.

The rebellion of Lao Ai was quelled without causing much of a stir.

After the rebellion was quelled, Ying Zheng immediately summoned his ministers to the Xianyang Palace.

Lord Changping, Mi Qi, stepped forward and reported: "An investigation has revealed that Lao Ai's associates are involved with twenty-seven officials in the court, all of whom have been detained."

Ying Zheng nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled officials before finally settling on Lü Buwei, who had remained silent throughout.

"Prime Minister," Ying Zheng's voice was calm yet sharp, "Lao Ai was recommended by you, and now he has committed treason. What do you have to say about that?"

The imperial court was deathly silent.

Lü Buwei slowly stepped forward, his face pale but forcing himself to remain calm: "This old minister misjudged people and is willing to accept punishment. But this matter truly has nothing to do with this old minister..."

"Unrelated?" Ying Zheng sneered. "Then how do you explain your secret correspondence with Lao Ai all these years?"

The attendant immediately presented a stack of bamboo slips, and upon seeing this, Lü Buwei swayed slightly.

Ying Zheng did not immediately punish Lü Buwei, but instead said in a deep voice:

"This matter has far-reaching implications; a thorough investigation is needed before a decision is made. Court is adjourned!"

The bells that signaled the end of court echoed dully over the Xianyang Palace. Lü Buwei's steps felt like they were made of lead, each step landing on the cold gold bricks with a hollow resonance.

The hem of his court robe was dusty, which he had picked up when he stumbled backward during his loss of composure.

The whispers behind me pierced my ears like needles—some were sympathetic, some were contemptuous, and most of all, they were indifferent to the spectacle.

These people have forgotten who stabilized the turbulent court at the end of King Zhaoxiang of Qin's reign, and who overcame all opposition to establish Zichu as the crown prince.

Who was it that acted as regent as prime minister when Ying Zheng was young, allowing the Qin territory to expand eastward by 300 li in ten years?

"The Prime Minister will stay."

Li Si's voice came from behind, as calm as a deep pool of water.

Lü Buwei turned around abruptly, his hands clenched so tightly in his sleeves that the veins bulged.

He saw Li Si holding the stack of "secret letters," a faint smile playing on his lips.

“These things,” Lü Buwei’s voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded, “are forgeries by you.”

“A forgery?” Li Si chuckled and unfolded the top bamboo scroll. “Prime Minister, please look at this private seal. It was personally bestowed upon you by you to commend Lao Ai for his ‘meritorious service to the Empress Dowager.’ The ink used for the seal is cinnabar, a tribute from the State of Chu. This can be verified in the palace archives.”

Lu Buwei's gaze fell on the vermilion seal, and he suddenly remembered that late night seven years ago.

Lao Ai knelt before him, his forehead bleeding from kowtowing, begging for a way out.

At the time, he only thought of it as a pawn, a spy planted beside Zhao Ji, but he never expected that this pawn would grow into a source of trouble and eventually become a sharp blade that pierced him.

Li Si bowed slightly and conveyed Ying Zheng's decree: "By order of the King, the Chancellor shall temporarily return to his residence to reflect on his mistakes and shall not leave without imperial decree."

"Reflect on your own faults?"

Lü Buwei suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the empty corridor and startling the night herons on the eaves into flight.

"I, Lü Buwei, have served two Qin kings throughout my life, destroying the Zhou dynasty, opening up the Three Rivers region, and building the Zheng Guo Canal. Wasn't every one of these things done for the sake of Qin? Now that Ying Zheng has become powerful enough, he can no longer tolerate me, his 'Uncle'?"

He abruptly raised his hand, pointing in the direction of Xianyang Palace, his fingertips turning white from the force:

"He's forgotten who stood in his way when he ascended the throne at the age of thirteen, preventing a coup by the imperial clan? Who purged Cheng Jiao's remaining supporters before his coming-of-age ceremony? His current accusation against Lao Ai is nothing more than an attempt to discard him after he's served his purpose!"

Li Si's eyes turned cold:

"Prime Minister, please be careful with your words. The King has never forgotten your contributions, but..."

He paused, then his tone suddenly turned stern, "But the power of Qin has always been held only by the King of Qin."

These words struck Lü Buwei like a heavy hammer.

He staggered back a step, crashing into the cold palace wall. The chill from the cracks in the bricks crept up his spine, making his limbs numb.

"I'm not reconciled..." Lü Buwei murmured to himself, his voice low like a sigh, yet filled with overwhelming resentment, "I'm not reconciled..."

He painstakingly cultivated his power over thirty years, rising from a humble merchant in Yangdi to a powerful prime minister, and from the compiler of the "Lüshi Chunqiu" to the honorable title of "Zhongfu".

Is it really going to be erased by a charge of "negligence in recommending someone"?

He looked at Li Si's departing figure, then gazed at the eaves of Zhangtai Palace in the distance, where the lights were dazzlingly bright.

The night wind lifted his robes, revealing the jade disc at his waist—a gift from Zichu, inscribed with the four characters "Together assisting the Great Qin."

The patterns on the jade disc have now been worn smooth by time, just like his gradually forgotten achievements.

"Ying Zheng," Lü Buwei whispered to the empty palace corridor, a ruthless glint in his eyes, "You think you can get rid of me just because you've taken down Lao Ai? Have you forgotten how many roots I planted back then are buried in this Qin court?"

He turned and walked toward the Prime Minister's residence, his steps still heavy, but with a touch more resoluteness.

The hand hidden in the sleeve slowly loosened, revealing several bloody marks on the palm from the fingernails.

No matter how deep the night was in Xianyang Palace, it could not conceal the resentment surging in his eyes.

That was the resentment and malice of a powerful minister being purged, the last gamble of a gambler before losing his chips, and a declaration that Lü Buwei would never surrender and wait for his doom.

Chapter 38: Lü Buwei's Reign Ends, Zheng Ge's Era Begins

The night fog, like cotton wool soaked in ink, weighed heavily on the walls of Xianyang, blurring even the eaves of the palaces into indistinct silhouettes.

In the study deep within the Prime Minister's residence, the candlelight flickered in the draft, casting Lü Buwei's shadow on the wall, sometimes elongated into a hunched ghost, sometimes shrunken into a trembling dark mass.

The bamboo slips spread out on the table had an old yellow patina, and the densely packed names were marked with vermilion. They were the secret agents he had been cultivating for thirty years.

The head of the pavilion in Sanchuan County, the attendant in Liyang Palace, and even the cook in the Han King's palace—every name was once a fulcrum he used to leverage the six states.

Lu Buwei's fingertips rubbed against the rough edges of the bamboo slips, as if he were caressing a dying beast, and a barely audible sigh escaped his throat.

"Where is Xuan Jian?"

His voice was colder than the bronze jue on the table, hoarse as if it had been roasted by fire.

The shadow on the beam suddenly collapsed, and a figure dressed in black fell to the ground, with two swords crossed on his back, the copper bells on the sword tassels not ringing at all.

Xuan Jian lowered his eyes, his eyelashes casting a heavy shadow beneath them. The spider patterns embroidered on his black clothes swirled in the candlelight, as if they were about to crawl out and devour someone at any moment.

Lu Buwei glanced at the room full of assassins, the most elite force of the Luo Wang organization.

The bronze mask that obscured the sun gleamed coldly, while the others, all dressed in black, were hidden in the corner, their breathing as even as stone sculptures.

These were the sharp blades he had nurtured with gold, hatred, and his own life; they were meant to be thorns thrust into Ying Zheng's heart.

"Ying Zheng wants to kill me." He suddenly raised his hand, scattering bamboo slips all over the table. "He thinks that overthrowing Lao Ai will shake my foundation? How laughable!"

The candlelight suddenly shot up half a foot, illuminating the bulging veins at the corners of his eyes.

The prime minister who once spoke eloquently in the court about "combining Confucianism and Mohism, and integrating Legalism and the School of Names" was gone. His hands under his wide sleeves were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched, making him look like a gambler who had lost everything.

"What are your plans, Prime Minister?"

Yan Ri's voice came from behind the mask, muffled and emotionless.

Lü Buwei pulled out a bronze token from his sleeve. The spider-patterned compound eyes were inlaid with red copper and gleamed with a bloodthirsty light in the dark.

"At midnight tonight, blood will be shed on Zhangtai Palace."

The air suddenly froze, and even the cross breeze stopped.

Even these assassins, who had long since disregarded life and death, couldn't help but feel their Adam's apples bob.

Assassinating the King of Qin in Xianyang would be enough to reduce the entire clan to ashes.

Xuan Jian's fingers, which were behind his back, trembled almost imperceptibly. The dark patterns on the scabbard seemed to come alive and climb up his wrist.

"What? Scared?"

Lu Buwei caught that hint of wavering, and suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh like rusty iron scraping against each other:

"Don't forget who you are! I, Lü Buwei, created the Net. Your lives, your grudges, everything you want, are all in my hands! Ying Zheng? Just a mere brat I helped rise to power!"

He stood up abruptly, his wide court robe sweeping across the table, causing a bronze wine vessel to fall to the ground, the wine spreading across the blue bricks and reflecting his distorted face.