Ying Zheng didn’t want to believe it, but the woman who had appeared so suddenly, along with these unheard-of items, made it hard for him to dismiss the truth. Zhao Gao had been loyal for years, but the power he wielded now—granted by Ying Zheng himself—meant that what this descendant was saying could very well happen.

And as for Li Si, being a legalist, while Fu Su followed Confucian ideals, it was not inconceivable that Li Si might resort to treachery for the sake of maintaining his own power. Even Hu Hai, though still a mere child, could be molded into someone capable of such atrocities if Zhao Gao guided him.

“Great Emperor,” Yun Tutu said, as she finished unloading the last of her items. “You must never believe in that so-called elixir of immortality—it’s all a scam.”

Ying Zheng was puzzled. Why did this descendant bring that up?

“According to records,” Yun Tutu continued, “toward the end of your life, you sought immortality. You decreed that anyone who could find an elixir would be greatly rewarded. A man named Xu Fu claimed to be able to create it, but instead, he fed you poisonous pills disguised as the elixir, which hastened your death.”

Ying Zheng’s expression darkened. His descendant continued to explain how Xu Fu, after realizing that the elixir wouldn’t work and fearing the emperor’s wrath, concocted a story about three mystical islands in the sea—Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou—where immortal beings resided. Xu Fu requested thousands of young boys and girls, along with three years’ worth of provisions, clothing, medicine, and farming tools, to embark on a sea voyage to find the elixir.

“Xu Fu took vast amounts of wealth from you, but instead of finding immortality, he settled on an island and established his own community. Two thousand years later, this island became a hostile nation that killed millions of our people and looted countless treasures.”

Ying Zheng’s face grew darker as Yun Tutu pointed to the location of modern Japan. He had been deceived, and his actions had indirectly led to immense suffering for his people centuries later. This treacherous Xu Fu would have to pay with his life.

“That’s all the history we have,” Yun Tutu said, sensing that she had already revealed enough. The emperor remained silent but appeared contemplative. Clearly, he was piecing things together.

Yun Tutu hesitated but added, “Also, be wary of Zhang Liang. He comes from an aristocratic Korean family, and after Korea was destroyed, he held a deep grudge. He hired a strongman to assassinate you when you were touring eastward at Bolangsha.”

Although the attempt failed…

“It won’t succeed,” Ying Zheng said confidently. He had long anticipated that his enemies would come after him, and his bodyguards were always prepared.

“You mention him specifically. Does Zhang Liang have some special talent?” Ying Zheng asked, his instincts sharp.

Yun Tutu nearly kneeled before the emperor, amazed at how quickly he caught on. “Zhang Liang eventually became one of Liu Bang’s most important advisors during the rebellion against the Qin dynasty,” she explained. “Liu Bang, who would later found the Han Dynasty, greatly relied on Zhang Liang’s strategies. Zhang even helped Liu Bang defeat Xiang Yu, the hegemon of Western Chu, with his tactical brilliance.”

Ying Zheng listened, his expression unreadable. Yun Tutu was in awe. No wonder he’s remembered as a legendary ruler—his mind operates on a level we common people can’t comprehend.

“Zhang Liang was hailed as the ‘Sage of Strategy’ for his brilliance in military tactics,” she concluded. “It’s said that Liu Bang once remarked, ‘The man who strategizes from behind the scenes and ensures victory from a thousand miles away is none other than Zhang Liang.'”

“A sage of strategy,” Ying Zheng murmured. “What a pity that, having destroyed Korea, I could never make use of such a talent.”

“Was the downfall of the second Qin emperor also due to the aristocrats of the Six States?” he asked.

Yun Tutu nodded. Qin Shi Huang had borne the brunt of the blame for millennia, but if he were truly the tyrant history made him out to be, the nobles of the Six States wouldn’t have survived long enough to rise in rebellion.

“The chaos came mostly from Hu Hai’s misrule,” Yun Tutu explained. “The revolt started with Chen Sheng, who declared himself king. Then there was Xiang Liang, who reinstated the Chu royal line and rallied powerful figures like Xiang Yu and Liu Bang.”

“Liu Bang… that name again,” Ying Zheng said thoughtfully. “Who was he?”

Yun Tutu, inwardly apologizing to Liu Bang, gave a brief account of his life. “Liu Bang, courtesy name Ji, hailed from Pei County.” In her mind, she silently begged Liu Bang’s forgiveness—though she admired the Han Dynasty, it was clear this timeline would now diverge into an alternate path.

Liu Bang’s voice echoed from the ether: “Thank you… for dooming me.”

Yun Tutu went on, describing Liu Bang’s rise and his talented generals, like Han Xin—later known as the “God of War”—and fierce warriors like Fan Kuai and Zhou Bo.

Just as she was about to continue, she heard the insistent voice of Song Song urging her to finish.

“I’ve told you everything I can,” Yun Tutu said, hurriedly organizing the rest of the books and items she had brought. “I hope these resources will be of use to you.”

She reached for her phone, hoping to leave. Ying Zheng, assuming she was about to show him something else, handed it back to her. When she simply placed the phone in her bag without further explanation, the emperor’s face showed a rare hint of surprise.

“I’ve completed my delivery,” Yun Tutu announced. “Aside from the world map, which was commissioned by someone else, everything else I’ve provided is my own contribution. Now, I hope we can complete our transaction.”

“Transaction?” Ying Zheng seemed puzzled. He had assumed she was merely offering these items as tribute.

Yun Tutu, realizing his misunderstanding, clarified, “Your Majesty, considering the wealth of goods I’ve brought, shouldn’t there be some form of reward?”

It was important to frame it as a reward, as emperors preferred to see exchanges in terms of bestowing favors. They would never think of “doing business.”

Ying Zheng, his imperial pride stirred, instinctively wanted to summon Zhao Gao, but he stopped short and called for another attendant instead. “Go to the treasury and bring several treasures.”

Yun Tutu’s eyes sparkled. “And about the island where Xu Fu fled—once you take control, you’ll find it rich in gold and silver deposits. It will be a valuable resource for our empire’s reserves.”

Hearing about the mines, Ying Zheng grew even more intrigued. It seemed that conquering this island was now a necessity.

The attendant soon returned, followed by ten others, each bearing trays laden with treasures.

“Here are jade pieces and swords from the royal tribute,” Ying Zheng said, looking satisfied with the selection. “The rest are smaller trinkets—take them as you please.”

Yun Tutu stared at the swords and ancient artifacts like the bronze vessel Buqi Gui and the Guo Jizi Bai Pan—were these really things she could bring back? Would she get in trouble if she did? Maybe. Probably.

As she debated whether to ask for something more practical, she heard Song Song’s voice in her head: “Transaction complete. Returning immediately…”