Chapter Seven: The Journey Home

The long night stretched on, sleepless and restless, yet for Li Yu tonight, time seemed to fly by.

He gazed at Yanfei, sleeping just a breath away, and quietly crawled up from his bedding on the ground, careful not to disturb the slumbering beauty as he slipped out of the tent.

As Li Yu exited the main tent, Yanfei’s eyes fluttered open. She looked at the abandoned blanket on the floor, a hint of embarrassment coloring her face as she sighed softly.

She recalled how, last night, Li Yu had stubbornly refused to leave. Unable to persuade him, she surrendered and allowed him to bring another blanket, making his bed on the ground.

The autumn dawn carried a chill in the air. Around the camp, some soldiers had already risen to prepare for the day’s drills.

For Li Si, too, the night was sleepless. He had too much to ponder, a deadly choice lying before him, robbing him of any desire to sleep.

He knew that with the coming of dawn, this new day would change many things. And he still hesitated, uncertain of how to choose.

Gai Nie, tasked with guarding Ying Zheng, had not rested either. Sword in hand, he stood at the entrance of the military tent, vigilant. Fortunately, he was young and could recover energy through meditation.

Ying Zheng lay awake as well, considering certain matters.

Ironically, only Li Yu and Zhao Gao slept well that night.

Spotting the conspicuous “killer hairstyle” in the distance, Li Yu approached and greeted, “Brother Zhao! Did you not bring anyone else on this trip?”

Zhao Gao curled his lips, “Whom does sir think I should bring?” He answered with a question.

Li Yu replied, “I’ve heard that the legendary Net has Six Sword Slaves, Eight Linglong, and a mysterious figure called Covering Sun. Are these real?”

Zhao Gao narrowed his eyes, “Sir is well-informed. Six Sword Slaves exist, Eight Linglong does not. As for Covering Sun, even I do not know who that is.”

Li Yu’s interest was piqued, “Brother Zhao, have you ever heard of a sword master named Jing Ni?”

Zhao Gao was momentarily speechless—what master? More like a killer, ruthless and cold-blooded. Yet he wondered how this scholarly Li Yu, frail and powerless, knew such things and asked, “Where did sir hear of these?”

Li Yu smiled mysteriously, “I know that woman. She once saved my life. I wanted to repay her with myself, but alas, I never saw her again. I regret it deeply...”

“Brother Zhao, do you know where she is? If you do, could you tell me? I’ll reward you handsomely!”

Zhao Gao saw Li Yu’s persistence and replied with a wave, “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

Li Yu nodded and made his way toward Ying Zheng’s tent. Upon entering, he found Li Si already present.

Li Yu saluted Ying Zheng, “Did your majesty sleep well last night?”

Ying Zheng smiled, “Well enough. And yourself?” He knew Li Yu had spent the night in Yanfei’s tent, their laughter echoing, lively and cheerful. In truth, it was only Li Yu making noise—Yanfei was silent—but that didn’t stop Ying Zheng and the others from imagining.

Li Yu replied, “Thank you for your concern, your majesty. I’ve never slept so soundly before.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. One, he had a beauty by his side; two, this beauty was a powerhouse—the original Yanfei, locked away for years, could defeat heaven and earth. Unless those legendary elders appeared, Yanfei feared nothing.

Since arriving in the Qin era, Li Yu had never slept so comfortably.

He turned to Li Si, “Lord Li, what did Wang Yi want to discuss yesterday? I was tired last night and retired early, so I missed it.”

Li Si’s eyes flashed, silent for a moment. He looked at Ying Zheng, waited for a nod, then spoke, “The Left Chief Wang Yi summoned me to discuss how to safely escort the king out. It needs a good opportunity, preferably without alerting spies in the camp.”

“So Wang Yi has no ulterior motives, and we were overthinking. That’s good news,” Li Yu said, pleasantly surprised.

“Sir is correct. We misjudged Wang Yi,” Ying Zheng nodded.

Their conversation was casual, natural, and perfectly in sync. Whether they truly believed their words was known only to themselves.

Gai Nie remained silent, cold and proud as a lone wolf, his sharp gaze fixed on Li Si, the outsider.

Li Si was silent, knowing Ying Zheng and Li Yu understood his meaning. With clever people, too many words were unnecessary. There was only so much he could do; after all, he was a powerless scholar, his only envoy’s staff now useless.

Go with the flow or swim against it?

Li Si chose survival. So he stood in the middle, at least to preserve his life.

“Your majesty, I’ll go ask the Left Chief when we can set off,” Li Si bowed, not daring to meet Ying Zheng’s eyes, afraid to betray a forbidden expression. At least he hadn’t erred, neither helping nor harming Ying Zheng.

He’d said what he needed to, as Wang Yi had instructed, only altering the tone slightly.

“Granted,” Ying Zheng nodded coldly.

Li Si rose and walked out.

Once he was gone, the tent filled with conversation again.

“Li Si truly has it hard,” Li Yu said with a smile, appreciating the man. He might lack integrity, but he represented the majority. If Li Yu didn’t know history, he wouldn’t help Ying Zheng so much.

“Does sir believe he is innocent?” Ying Zheng’s gaze turned stern.

To Ying Zheng, Li Si’s wavering was contemptible.

“Innocence comes from ignorance. He doesn’t know our plan, nor Zhao Gao and Yanfei’s strength. He’s a weak scholar, forced to choose self-preservation,” Li Yu nodded.

It was, in a way, making Li Si owe him a favor for future use.

Li Si was indeed talented. If he rose to power, his abilities would surpass Gai Nie’s, and Li Yu needed an executor for many plans—not everything could be done personally.

Lü Buwei had capability, but he was old and proud; asking him for help was wishful thinking.

Li Si, on the other hand, was young, ambitious, and currently destitute—easy to control.

To Li Yu, Li Si was the ideal executor, a man destined to rise from the bottom to become Qin’s prime minister, his talents beyond doubt.

If Ying Zheng abandoned Li Si because of Li Yu’s presence, it would be a great loss, even altering history’s course.

Besides, as long as Ying Zheng lived, his growth would suppress all rivals. The title “Eternal Emperor” was not just words.

If Ying Zheng does not die, who in the world dares chaos?

“I didn’t expect sir to speak for him,” Ying Zheng laughed, curious.

“As I said, Li Si’s character matters less than his talent and ease of control, which is most important for your majesty. If your majesty wishes to punish hi