Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

The boy clenched his fists and pursed his lips repeatedly.

He raised his head, his gaze passing over the civil and military officials filling the hall, over the adults with their varied expressions, over those unfamiliar yet dignified faces—and finally landing on one person.

The man leaned back in his chair, his face as white as paper, as if he were very ill.

He recognized her at a glance; she was his benefactor and his family's savior!

That day in the snow, it was this person who bent down and helped him up from the snowdrift, draped warm clothes over him, and also this person who had the young master beside him give him money, a brocade pouch, and even called a doctor to see his grandfather.

After that, Grandpa recovered from his illness and can now walk around. Grandma stopped crying, my sister no longer needs to be sold, and the family... even has surplus grain.

All of this was thanks to the kindness of benefactors.

He simply didn't know how to repay such a kind person!

But now, he overheard those bad people trying to harm the important person.

The boy felt as if a ball of fire was burning in his chest.

He took a deep breath, clenched his fist, and his voice, though still trembling, was much louder than before:

"Your Majesty! This humble subject knows that Zhou Neishi is a good man! An exceptionally good man!"

"I saw and heard these words with my own eyes and ears: that bad people are trying to harm him!"

"Someone impersonated a villager from the outskirts, spreading rumors and deceiving the villagers into kneeling before the Inner Historian's Temple in an attempt to frame Inner Historian Zhou. I heard all of this with my own ears!"

As the boy's voice faded, the hall fell silent for a moment, so quiet that the faint crackling of the charcoal fire in the bronze furnace could be heard.

Guan Chi knelt on the ground, his smile freezing on his face. He stared at the thin boy, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes.

"You...you're talking nonsense!"

Guan Chi suddenly sat up, his voice shrill and cracking, "Where did this wild child come from, spouting nonsense under someone's orders!"

"Whether it's just empty talk or not, you know in your heart."

Wei Liao's voice was calm and unhurried. He took a step forward, standing right between Guan Chi and the boy, keeping that hideous face out of sight.

"Child, continue." He turned his head, his voice softening. "Don't look at others, just talk to me as if you were talking to me. Tell me everything you see and hear clearly."

The boy swallowed hard and nodded vigorously.

With Wei Liao standing in front of him, and all he could see was his encouraging gaze, the boy felt more at ease and spoke more fluently.

"That day...that day, many people from the village came to borrow firewood."

"They were dressed in tattered clothes, their hands and faces were covered in frostbite, and some of them were carrying babies as they went from house to house knocking on doors."

"They cried as they spoke, saying that Zhou, the Imperial Secretary, was forcing them to build heated kang beds, exquisite items that only nobles could afford. They required firewood every day, which was very wasteful, but the officials were forcing them to use them, leaving them without firewood and about to freeze to death..."

"They made it sound so pitiful; the aunt next door is kind-hearted and even lent them half a basket of millet stalks!"

The boy paused, a hint of resentment on his face.

"At first, the villagers didn't take it seriously. Grandpa also said that they were probably just a group of pitiful people. But a few days later, the officials really came and started repairing the kang (heated brick bed) in every household. They couldn't refuse to repair it, and that's when everyone panicked."

A soft rustling sound came from inside the hall, and some people quietly exchanged glances.

A few days later, the group of wood-beggars came again.

The boy's voice grew increasingly angry, and his face turned bright red.

"By this time, no one dared to lend out firewood. They were very cunning; they all said they weren't there to borrow firewood, but instead used a different excuse—"

"They said that borrowing firewood was no longer enough; the borrowed firewood would be burned up in a few days, and at this rate, they would inevitably die!"

The boy paused, his chest heaving violently:

"This group of people said they needed more people to kneel in front of the Neishi Temple. This was a petition. Only if there were more people would Zhou Neishi see them and show mercy. This way, they could save their own firewood and also beg for a way to survive."

"Some people were so scared that they believed them and went with them."

"But I don't believe it!"

The boy suddenly raised his head, his gaze fixed on the pale figure leaning against the back of the chair, tears glistening in his eyes:

"Zhou Neishi was such a good man, he... he was our family's benefactor, he was a great philanthropist! How could he do such a thing? How could he force the villagers to freeze to death?!"

"I don't believe it! They must be talking nonsense! They're all liars!"

Guan Chi's face grew increasingly grim, now as black as ink. He tried to interrupt, but Wang Jian and Meng Wu stood on either side of him, like two walls.

Meng Wu was even more alert. As soon as he made a move, he swiftly raised his hand, pulled out a piece of black cloth from somewhere, and gagged him tightly. Then he stepped on his back, pressing him firmly to the ground, unable to move.

Guan Chi could only lie on the gold bricks, staring helplessly at the boy, unable to utter a single word, his eyes practically spitting fire.

The boy clenched his fists, his chest heaving violently, a burning sensation rising within him as he struggled to breathe.

"I must see for myself why they are slandering Zhou Neishi, and what these people are really up to!"

He gritted his teeth and continued:

"I saw a few of them who didn't go back with the villagers, but instead turned in another direction. They looked suspicious and obviously weren't up to any good, so I quietly followed them."

"Once they left the village, they walked incredibly fast, not at all like someone who was cold, hungry, and unable to walk. They were definitely liars!"

"But they were too alert, and there were so many of them, I didn't dare to get too close. I could only follow them from a distance. I lost them several times. Every time I lost them, I would go to a village further away, squat in the shadows and wait for them to come back, then quietly follow them again."

The boy's voice had a stubborn edge to it.

"After following them a few times, I noticed they always met at an abandoned, dilapidated cowshed. But that place was too open, with not a single decent tree around, making it impossible to get close."

He paused, then rubbed his fingers together a few times, as if he were restraining something.

"Later... it was my younger sister."

His voice lowered, carrying a hint of guilt.

"My younger sister is shorter than me, so she curled up under a broken stone trough to avoid being discovered. She was the one who listened in for me."

The boy's eyes reddened, but he stubbornly refused to shed a tear.

"My sister told me that the group of people spoke in extremely low voices that day, but she still heard them—"

He took a deep breath and repeated those words word for word:

"Those people said—"

"Go to a few more villages, use the same story, make them sound as miserable as possible, and make them all kneel down at the Neishi Temple."

"The more people, the better. If things get out of hand, Zhou Wenqing won't be able to recover."

"Arrange for a few more people to mingle among the kneeling people. They should act according to the situation, but don't kneel too close, or they'll be discovered immediately."

The boy's voice was still trembling slightly, but his words, word by word, fell clearly in the hall and into everyone's ears.

How many of those who can stand in this great hall are truly fools?

As soon as those words were spoken, the expressions of all the civil and military officials changed inch by inch.

Some people lowered their eyes in thought, some exchanged glances, and some secretly cast their gazes at the figure on the ground, unable to move under their feet.

Those gazes held surprise, realization, and even secret relief.

If what the child said is true, it is clear that this is a trap set by someone targeting Zhou Neishi.

Using the lives of those who froze to death as a knife, and the ignorant masses as bargaining chips, they gradually scalped the fire to the gates of the Inner History Temple. This scheme was meticulously planned, and the knife was delivered with ruthless cruelty.

If it weren't for this boy's persistence, and his younger sister curled up at the bottom of the broken stone trough...

It's probably difficult to find any clues in the short term.

The ministers' gazes unconsciously drifted towards Zhou Wenqing.

Zhou Neishi... What good luck!

You must understand that once the label of "seeking fame and fortune by any means necessary" is attached to you, even if it's only for the duration of a court assembly, your reputation will be irreparably tarnished.

This is especially true for people like Zhou Wenqing, who made great achievements with ingenious and powerful tools and became famous for products that benefit the people.

His foundation lies in the two words "benefiting the people." If these two words are tainted, and he later produces any ingenious inventions, the first thing others will subconsciously think upon seeing him is:

Will this thing... drive someone to their death again?

Those whispers will forever linger in conversations, and those meaningful glances will forever follow us, like ink seeping into white paper, never to be washed away again.

Thinking of this, the ministers looked at Guanchi with a more wary and vigilant expression.

And the Crown Pool—

He lay on the ground, his eyes filled with such hatred that he seemed ready to tear that small, thin figure to shreds!

If it weren't for this wild child, those ignorant people would never have noticed the slightest clue!

Those lives will forever be buried before the Inner History Temple, those rumors will forever circulate in the alleys of Xianyang, and Zhou Wenqing will be questioned, impeached, and drowned in the spittle of the entire court, unable to recover.

But this child… this damned child…

His fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his nails digging deep into his palms until they hurt, but he couldn't utter a single word—the handkerchief was like an iron lock, sealing all his words into his throat.

At this moment, Li Si stepped forward and delivered the final blow.

"Your Majesty, on that day in front of the Inner History Temple, before the soldiers arrived, I saw only this boy. He did not kneel and wait quietly. At that time, he was carrying his own warm clothes in his arms, and he distributed them one by one to the deceived people. He also ran around telling them, weeping and urging them, saying that kneeling and begging here was useless, that everyone had been deceived, and so on, trying to get everyone to return home quickly."

Liston paused, his gaze falling on the slender figure, a complex look appearing in his eyes:

"I noticed something unusual in his words and actions. This child himself was freezing and starving, yet he still offered his clothes and blankets to others, which shows his pure heart. As for his words about being 'deceived' and 'harming others,' I questioned him carefully and found some answers."

"Later, based on the descriptions of those people he had given, I secretly sent people to investigate and arrested those who had incited the people and spread rumors overnight."

"The person behind this has been identified and awaits Your Majesty's judgment!"