The reason Ying Zheng felt displeased was not because Zhao Ji, for such a long time, had not even offered him a single perfunctory or formal word of concern or greeting, and now only came to look for him because of some unknown plaything. Rather, it was because Zhao Ji kept a male pet, and not only was she, the master, instead manipulated by the plaything, but she also wanted him to, for the sake of such a thing, shake the very foundation upon which the state of Qin was established.
From the time of Shang Yang’s reforms until today, over many years, the reason Qin had been able to strive to become strong, transforming from a weak state on the northwestern frontier into today’s powerful Qin, was precisely because of the laws established by Shang Yang.
Qin was different from the other states of the realm that maintained the hereditary system of noble ranks and stipends. It implemented the military merit rank system. Common people who joined the army could rely on military merit to change their lowly origins and the fate of spending their entire lives buried in the dust. Soldiers and troops fought and killed on the battlefield truly for themselves and for the future of their families, rather than, as in other states, having all the life-and-death work done by the lower-ranking soldiers, while when it came time to distribute merit and rewards, all the good things were divided up by the nobles above, leaving those who had worked hard with nothing in the end.
The essence of Qin’s system of enfeoffment by military merit lay in the word “fairness.” Regardless of high or low birth, regardless of noble or base status, as long as you were willing to fight with your life and bravely kill the enemy on the battlefield, you would have the opportunity to walk onto a broad and prosperous road.
And what Zhao Ji now wanted was to destroy this “fairness” that made, among all the states of the realm, only the Qin army rejoice at the sound of battle.
In those warm brown eyes there was a sheet of icy coldness. Then Ying Zheng reined in his surging emotions, turned his gaze slightly aside, and looked at Zhao Ji as he spoke without any emotional color at all, “Mother has been pleased by the entertainers at her side, her mood is joyful, and she wishes to reward a little plaything so that this plaything can amuse her for longer—your son can understand this. But,” at this point, Ying Zheng’s tone shifted, and there was also more authority in his voice, “since the laws of Shang Yang came into being, our Qin has never had someone who, without merit, received the stipend of a noble rank. Since this person has made Mother happy, then by all means reward him with gold, silver, and silks. Such riches are sufficient to grant him the highest honor. As for enfeoffment…”
The young man’s clear voice suddenly took on a trace of faint mockery. “Merely a plaything, and he wants to rashly shake the foundation upon which our Qin state stands? With such grand ambitions, this humble king is now somewhat curious about this eunuch who has pleased Mother.”
Ying Zheng had long known that the man serving Zhao Ji at her side, Lao Ai, was a proper man who had secretly smuggled himself into the palace. Therefore, when he said this, he deliberately stressed the words “eunuch.” Sure enough, upon hearing this, Zhao Ji, out of guilt, almost reflexively stepped back two steps, because how would she dare let Ying Zheng see Lao Ai? Although having illicit relations with someone was not the first time she had done so—she had already done this when Lü Buwei was still Chancellor—Lü Buwei and Lao Ai were not quite the same. At least, although she and Lü Buwei had messed around, she had not kept Lü Buwei by her side day and night, and there had been this layer of “fig leaf” to cover the shame.
Afterward, she steadied her mind, suppressed the guilt of secretly smuggling a man into the palace, and then thought of how her son’s words just now had clearly meant to refuse her request. She could not help but look at the boy who had inherited her beauty with some astonishment, calling his name with a bit of disbelief, “Zheng, Zheng’er?”
She truly seemed never to have expected that Ying Zheng would refuse her.
At this moment, she could no longer spare any thought for whether she felt guilty or not about secretly bringing a male pet into the palace. Instead, she could not believe that the son who had never refused her requests would refuse her, and in such a cold and harsh way, speaking so heavily. She could not help but reflexively argue back, “How can it be as serious as Zheng’er says? It’s just conferring a small noble rank, that’s all…”
But from her not very loud voice, it could be heard that she had no confidence.
Thus Zhao Ji could not help but bite her lower lip. She was truly beautiful, so when she made such a motion, she looked pitiful and stirring with compassion. If there were any other man standing before her, he would absolutely not remain unmoved by Zhao Ji’s expression. Unfortunately, the one standing before her now was her own biological son, who had long been accustomed to seeing her shed tears, and thus possessed an innate resistance to such expressions of hers.
Seeing that Zhao Ji was about to become a beauty with tears in her eyes, Ying Zheng merely said in a calm tone, “Moreover, Mother must not forget what time it is now. Zhao, Wei, Chu, Han, and Yan, the five states, have formed a vertical alliance to attack Qin, intending to forcibly tear a piece of flesh from our Qin state. On the front-line battlefield, in order to protect this land from being swallowed by other states, the elite soldiers of Great Qin are fighting to the death. If Mother makes such a request, I fear it will chill the hearts of the soldiers who are currently fighting on the front lines for our Great Qin.”
Zhao Ji could not help but be stunned by his words.
Although back then she had also held state power for several years, most of those matters were ultimately handled personally by Lü Buwei. As a dancer by origin, she was insensitive to everything in the realm of politics, knowing only that her current status was noble, her son was the King of Qin, and she was the Empress Dowager of Qin. She could have whatever she wanted, and no one would ever again dare to bully her as they had in Zhao in the past. That was all.
The beautiful woman could not help but look somewhat dull and speechless. Seeing Zhao Ji like this, Ying Zheng did not press her too hard. Seeing that his mother still seemed capable of understanding reason, and that her mind had not been completely fooled away by someone, thinking of what Li Xi had once told him, his tone softened slightly.
He said, “However, since Mother values this person and thus specially came to your son to seek a noble rank for him, this humble king truly does not wish for Mother’s painstaking effort to be wasted. Otherwise…” At this point, Ying Zheng glanced sideways at Zhao Ji and continued, “Taking advantage of the fact that now is the time when Qin is at war with Zhao, Wei, Chu, Han, and Yan, for Mother’s sake, this humble king will personally pull some strings for him, letting him bypass any tests and go directly onto the battlefield to kill the enemy. How about that?”
At this point, the young man’s brows softened, and his tone also seemed to become gentler and kinder, but the brutality of the words he spoke was entirely unrelated to his expression and tone. “Our Qin soldiers have always been rewarded by merit, so why not send that eunuch who has pleased Mother to the Vanguard Camp? Although the Vanguard Camp requires charging at the very front without armor and is relatively more dangerous than for others, as long as he survives, he will surely be able to receive a noble rank by merit. Thus, it would also fulfill Mother’s wish.”
Ying Zheng spoke with a tone that was full of concern, his words sincere and earnest, yet the content was extraordinarily biting and sarcastic, directly choking Zhao Ji so that she could not utter a word.
And even because her own level of education was insufficient, and her mind not particularly sharp, Zhao Ji could only vaguely feel that there was something wrong with Ying Zheng’s words, but on the surface, they indeed seemed to truly be spoken for her sake.
Only…
How could she bear to let Lao Ai go to that so-called Vanguard Camp to charge and kill enemies? Although she had never known before that there was something called a Vanguard Camp in the army, she had just heard Ying Zheng say that it meant not wearing armor and charging at the very front as a human shield—wasn’t that, translated, simply sending Lao Ai to his death?
Thus, although she did not understand much else, she did understand that Ying Zheng, because he was taking her into account, wanted to send Lao Ai to the Vanguard Camp where “as long as he could survive, he would definitely receive a noble rank.” Believing that the untrained Lao Ai would certainly not survive, Zhao Ji hurriedly shook her head and refused her son’s “kind offer,” found some excuse, and then hurriedly left.
When Zhao Ji wanted to leave, Ying Zheng naturally did not stop her, only maintaining the basic etiquette appropriate for a son as he saw her off.
Then, looking at Zhao Ji’s back, he thought that perhaps he really should listen to what Li Xi had told him before and send a few male pets to his mother to amuse her, so that her attention would be distracted and she would not place importance on just any random plaything, to the point of being fooled into coming to him to seek a noble rank for him.
Actually, on the day Li Xi mentioned to him the matter of keeping male pets for Zhao Ji, Ying Zheng had already been persuaded by her line of reasoning. It was just that sending male pets to his own biological mother was more or less a bit…
Moreover, at that time he also knew that Zhao Ji had Lao Ai by her side. At that time, Lao Ai had not yet been courting death or stirring up trouble, so he temporarily turned a blind eye and tacitly allowed this matter to exist. Who knew that this Lao Ai, who usually looked obedient and well-behaved, would, once he started causing trouble, want to cause big trouble.
Li Xi was not in Xianyang at present and did not know what was happening there now. Otherwise, she would definitely be secretly complaining in her heart: this is just the beginning, isn’t it?
Asking for a noble rank for that idiot Lao Ai was only the start. Later on, Zhao Ji would truly be completely fooled, even believing talk about deposing Ying Zheng and establishing her and Lao Ai’s two sons. She even stirred up the “Lao Ai Rebellion,” making his reputation, which was already despised in history, even more despised.
But Li Xi, who was currently in Liyang, had no opportunity to witness this farce of Lao Ai in Xianyang. It had to be said that over in Liyang, Li Xi was now also somewhat doubting her own existence, because…
Liyang.
At the very first moment when the installation package for the upgrade of “Great Qin” was ready, Eating-Cat’s Squid and several old players who had entered the game during the same period as him logged in together without prior arrangement.
After entering the game, a few of them looked at one another and all felt that although the game upgrade had not taken very long, for some reason it felt as though the atmosphere was completely different from before they logged out.
And amid everyone’s shared confusion, Social-Anxiety Robot Cat—namely the engineering guy who, on the very day he first entered the game, had already conquered countless local residents of Liyang and maxed out their favorability, possessing that incredible social skill—once again displayed his “social superpower.” After scanning the surrounding streets, he locked onto an old man who looked kind and easy to talk to, and immediately rushed up to ask him what had happened during the few days they were gone.
Seeing the “Heavenly Soldiers and Heavenly Generals” summoned by the Divine Maiden again after several days, and being asked such a question, the old man naturally explained with great patience the changes that had occurred in Liyang during these past few days.
Because a few days earlier Li Xi had said that the “divine seeds” she had requested from the heavens at the altar did not pick environments and would survive wherever they were planted, and that what grew would definitely be crops with extremely high yields, so apart from the vast majority of seeds that were taken to be planted on large tracts of wasteland, a small remaining portion was evenly distributed among the common people, with every household receiving more or less a little.
And also because these high-yield “divine seeds” were sturdy and resilient, everyone very simply and plainly chose to dig two small pits of earth right in front of their own doors, plant the “divine seeds” there, and wait for the wonderful thing to happen where, after a few months, crops would grow right in front of their own homes.
After listening to the old man’s explanation, the players immediately had an epiphany. Yan Samoyed stroked her chin and said seriously, “So everyone’s doorsteps were turned over. No wonder I felt like something was off.”
Seeing her so earnestly, a nearby player could not help but complain, “I think the real problem here isn’t… Why did a whole bunch of living people all feel something was off, but not a single one of us noticed something so obvious that anyone with eyes could see it?”
Hearing this, Eating-Cat’s Squid immediately shot him a dead-fish-eyed look and asked, “Bro, can you tell what shape my eyes are?”
The player who had just complained cautiously leaned in and stared at his eyes for a long time, and finally said carefully, “…Almond eyes?”
“No.” Eating-Cat’s Squid straightened his face and said extremely seriously, “They’re nearsighted eyes. As someone who, once I take off my glasses, can’t tell people from animals within one meter, asking me to use my eyes to see things is really too much.”
As soon as he finished speaking, scattered voices of agreement immediately arose around them: “Me too…” “Same here.”
Under such nearly unanimous agreement, even the player who had just complained admitted defeat, let out a long sigh, and said in a weary tone, “Who isn’t, really?”
“Alright, let’s organize the existing information and see what’s been refreshed after the game update,” said Social-Anxiety Robot Cat, the one whose personality was extremely mismatched with his name, opening his mouth.
“Okay,” Eating-Cat’s Squid responded, then asked everyone, “I’ll start a livestream—does anyone mind?”
“Start it, start it,” someone immediately responded upon hearing this, saying, “Once the livestream is on, as long as the streamer agrees, other players can also see the live chat in real time. That way we can brainstorm and freeload together.”
After all, the livestream system of “Great Qin” was not completely free, but like the revival mechanism, livestreaming also required using contribution points to exchange for time.
The reason Li Xi had set up this function was that she did not want everyone to be able to livestream at will without restriction, exposing the entire situation of Liyang over there at no cost. With such a restriction added, generally speaking, aside from professional players like Eating-Cat’s Squid who made a living from gaming and thus kept livestreams on for long periods, it more or less protected that last tiny bit of privacy.
Naturally, the most important point was that this could further force grinding.
Regarding this, the black-hearted boss Li Xi stated that she was truly very kind.
“Let me see how to open this livestream system…”
Along with Eating-Cat’s Squid’s muttering, the next second a transparent large screen immediately appeared in front of them, and in just an instant it was filled with dense scrolling comments, unmistakably the audience members waiting in Eating-Cat’s Squid’s livestream room in the real world.
Seeing this, Social-Anxiety Robot Cat began summarizing, “Actually, this upgrade is mainly reflected in the few tasks that were released before the update of ‘Great Qin,’ plus an additional point, which is that the goddess created seeds for things like corn, potatoes, and sweet potatoes…”
Divine Maiden’s Residence.
Just having finished the matters at hand, Li Xi put down the pen in her hand, bent her fingers to stretch and relax a bit, and thought that during her break she might as well take a look at the players. Then—
Looking at the screen that the system opened for her, where the players were jumping up and down shouting “Hooray! Industrial Revolution!”, Li Xi could not help but slowly type a question mark.
She could not help but ask the system, “Can you tell me what exactly happened to make them intend to instantly fast-forward the era by more than twenty centuries?”
The system instantly replied, 【That’s because, Host, you want to build a textile factory.】
Li Xi: ?
Li Xi became even more confused. She wanted to build a textile factory—what the hell did that have to do with the Industrial Revolution?
Then she casually recited a bit of historical knowledge that, for her, was no different from Warring States history and was likewise ancient history, complaining, “Are they making the Spinning Jenny that symbolizes the beginning of the First Industrial Revolution?”
Hearing Li Xi say this, the system immediately turned into a fanboy cheering, dog-leggedly flattering, 【Host is wise!】
Li Xi: “……”
She glanced again at the big screen where the players, though nothing had even begun yet, were already celebrating the arrival of the Industrial Revolution in advance. She could not help but rub her temple, then said, “Go make a post on the forum and point them in the right direction—have them look up Wang Zhen’s ‘Book of Agriculture.’ The textile-related knowledge in it is far more advanced than the Spinning Jenny.”
【Oh!】 The system immediately howled and began spewing rainbow farts, praising, 【Host, you are truly erudite and versatile! I knew my Host was the best!】
But the reason your Host knows these things is actually just because they are mandatory topics on the interstellar college entrance examination.
Complaining silently in her heart, Li Xi could not be bothered to explain these things to the system.
Instead, she continued picking up her pen and writing something.
Soon, not long after “Great Qin” finished updating and the third test phase began, Li Xi discovered that among the newly introduced players in this third test, there truly were some extraordinary talents.
Her peach-blossom eyes lingered on a young person who was bent over doing something in a small section of the split screen. Interest could not help but appear in Li Xi’s eyes, and she drew out a long sound, saying, “Eh~ this time we really found a handicraft master.”
Following Li Xi’s gaze, the system scanned over with its waves and pulled up the profile of this player who had caught its host’s attention, saying, 【Her application information says she has twenty years of rich experience as a craftsperson. How is she so young? Damn it, I think I was tricked.】
Hearing this, not only did Li Xi once again feel how unreliable the system was, but the system also seemed to sense her silence and hurriedly tried to cover for itself, 【No—Host, listen to my explanation. Because she has no information online, it looks like she doesn’t go online at all, like an antique. At first I thought it was because the reputation of our Great Qin was so loud that it attracted even such offline craftspeople… Hey, hey, hey? Host, where are you going?】
Seeing Li Xi stand up and walk out halfway through its excuse-making, the system could not help but reflexively ask.
Li Xi replied irritably, “To the pigsty. You’ve given me a headache from anger. I’m grabbing a pig to roast and calm my nerves.”
“Eh? But didn’t Chengjiao specifically say before he left that no one was allowed to touch his pigs?”
“I’ll touch them anyway—what can he do to me?”
Hearing Li Xi’s calm voice carried on the wind, the system seriously thought about it. It seemed… Chengjiao really couldn’t do anything. After all, he couldn’t beat its host, and every time he could only be bullied by her.
And just as over in Liyang, Li Xi happily went to wreak havoc on Chengjiao’s pigs—pigs he had said he absolutely did not want to raise, but in reality would not let anyone else touch even a little bit—to prepare a roast suckling pig to comfort herself, at this moment in Xianyang, Li Si was encountering the greatest crisis of his career so far.
Originally, this was nothing more than an ordinary day. He normally got up early to attend court, normally was kept behind after the morning meeting by his boss who valued him to discuss important matters, normally finished his work and prepared to go home, and then… something abnormal, something even more extraordinary happened.
Just as Li Si wholeheartedly thought he was about to get off work and could bid farewell to the king and go home, he heard the young monarch in front of him suddenly ask him a question,
“Does the Chancellor know what kind of man the Divine Maiden likes?”