Qin Dynasty: They've all turned into zombies, what's there to fear about a rebellion?

"Don't move! Anyone who moves will be a sinner who severs the Qin Dynasty's dragon vein!"

Su Ming's shout was so loud it was almost hoarse, and it immediately stunned the imperial guards who were about to pounce. The tip of the knife was only 0.01 centimeters away from his neck, and the cold air made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

He didn't even bother to wipe away the cold sweat; his eyes were fixed on Ying Zheng on the dragon throne.

The medication took effect.

Moreover, the commotion was a hundred times wilder than Su Ming had anticipated.

The First Emperor, who had been slumped on the dragon throne, now resembled a shrimp thrown into a vat of boiling oil, his entire body contorted into a bizarre, inverted shape. His withered fingers dug tightly into the hard rosewood armrest, and with a "crack," he actually snapped the armrest in two.

Immediately afterwards, a visible black aura spread rapidly down his neck.

Those weren't bruises from poisoning, but rather bulging, frantically writhing blood vessels, like black earthworms. They raged and thrashed beneath Ying Zheng's pale skin, seemingly trying to tear this already decaying body apart completely.

"Ugh... Ugh!!"

Ying Zheng let out a beast-like growl, his eyes rolled back, and the corners of his eyes even split open, flowing out two shocking lines of black blood.

This isn't ascension; this is clearly a scene of zombie resurrection!

"Poison! This is deadly poison!"

Upon seeing this, Zhao Gao's previously hesitant expression instantly contorted into a ferocious, ecstatic glee. Pointing at Su Ming, his voice was shrill, like fingernails scraping a blackboard: "Did everyone see that? His Majesty is bleeding from all seven orifices! This is a sign of poison entering his heart! Su Ming murdered the emperor! The evidence is irrefutable!"

"Screw you, iron!"

Su Ming was also desperate. If he chickened out now, he would be torn to pieces in the next second. He abruptly pushed away the knife held to his neck, pointed at the dragon throne, and roared, "Zhao Gao, you ignorant old eunuch! What do you know about the Dao of Immortality!"

"You call this bleeding from all seven orifices? This is called detoxification! Don't you understand detoxification?"

Su Ming strode up the steps, pointing at Ying Zheng's face, which was now as black as the bottom of a pot, spitting as he spoke, "The toxins and illnesses that have accumulated in His Majesty's body for decades are now being forcibly expelled from his body by elixirs! Look at that black blood, can that be blood? That's the filth from His Majesty's mortal body!"

"Nonsense!"

Zhao Gao trembled with rage and screamed, "His Majesty is convulsing like this; he is clearly in extreme pain!"

"Nonsense! Wouldn't it hurt if you were the one undergoing a complete transformation?"

Su Ming's mind raced, and he spouted nonsense without even bothering to write a draft. "Even the phoenix undergoes a rebirth through fire, His Majesty is trying to forge an 'immortal corpse god body,' shattering and rebuilding all his bones, severing and reconnecting his meridians! What's that called? That's called 'physical ascension'! How can you see a rainbow without experiencing wind and rain? How can you live forever without suffering excruciating pain?"

This set of twisted and fallacious arguments, combined with Su Ming's fanatical expression of "I am the only one who is sober in a world of drunks," actually managed to shock the audience.

Li Si stood to the side, his brows furrowed, staring intently at Ying Zheng, who was struggling in pain.

Although he found Su Ming's words absurd, as a representative of the Legalist school, he valued the outcome more. If it really was poison, His Majesty should have died long ago, instead of being like this now... Although painful, the power unleashed was terrifyingly immense.

"Crack!"

A sickening cracking sound rang out.

Ying Zheng's spine seemed to be forcibly lengthened by an invisible hand, and his originally hunched body visibly grew taller. His dragon robe was torn, revealing skin that was a metallic bluish-gray, with foul-smelling black mud seeping from its pores.

"Look! Did you see that?!"

Pointing at the scene, Su Ming was as excited as a salesman, "His Majesty's spine is straight! This is the reforging of the dragon's bones! This is a return to one's ancestral nature!"

Actually, he was panicking inside: System, is this T-virus expired? The side effects seem to be causing it to mutate into a tyrant! If Zheng really turns into a monster that only knows how to eat people, no matter how well I fooled him, I'll still be dead!

Seeing that the officials had been persuaded, a glint of ruthlessness flashed in Zhao Gao's eyes. He couldn't wait any longer; what if the old emperor actually pulled through?

"Spreading heresy! Seize him! Quickly capture this evil Taoist priest!"

Zhao Gao rushed down the steps, wanting to personally seize the guard's sword.

"Let's see who dares!"

Su Ming suddenly pulled out the scalpel he used for self-defense (actually for dissection) from his pocket. Although small, it gleamed coldly in the candlelight. "Now is the crucial moment for His Majesty's tribulation. Anyone who dares to interrupt and cause the entire effort to fail will be accused of murdering the First Emperor! Zhao Gao, can you bear the blame for that?!"

"You..." Zhao Gao paused.

This hat was too big, so big that even he, the Grand Chariot Officer, dared not accept it lightly.

Just as the two sides were locked in a stalemate and the air was so tense it felt like it was about to explode, a piercing scream suddenly came from the dragon throne.

"roar--!!!"

The sound didn't sound like something a human could make; it sounded like a demon crawling out of hell.

Immediately afterwards, Ying Zheng's wildly convulsing body suddenly stiffened, and his legs kicked wildly in the air twice, like a fish out of water making its last struggle.

Then, he fell heavily back onto the dragon throne.

It stopped moving.

It stopped moving completely.

The heavy, bellows-like breathing stopped abruptly, and even the slightest rise and fall of his chest disappeared completely.

The hall fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at the once invincible emperor, who now lay there limp like a withered tree, his gray face contorted in a grimace, devoid of any life.

Even that chilling pressure vanished with that fall.

died?

really dead?

Li Si's hand trembled violently, and the ivory tablet in his hand fell to the ground with a "crack," breaking into two pieces.

Zhao Gao was stunned for a full three seconds, then his face erupted with an uncontrollable ecstasy. He rushed up the steps and, with trembling hands, reached under Ying Zheng's nose to feel his nose.

It's out of breath.

He touched Ying Zheng's neck again.

There was no pulse, and it was ice-cold to the touch, as hard as a piece of iron.

"Dead... Hahahaha! Dead!"

Zhao Gao whirled around, his effeminate face contorted with twisted pleasure and savagery. He pointed at the deathly pale Su Ming and let out a shrill laugh like an owl:

"Su Ming! What else do you have to say? His Majesty has died! He was poisoned to death by your poison!"

At this moment, Su Ming's mind went blank, and he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

Looking at that motionless figure, the last vestige of hope in his heart shattered completely.

It’s over.

This time they really messed up.

System, you idiot! What happened to the fake death? It's completely dead! Your fake death even has no heartbeat?

The surrounding imperial guards, no longer hesitant, drew dozens of longswords in unison, their chilling auras instantly locking onto Su Ming. This time, no one would listen to his explanations, and no one would give him another chance.

Su Ming subconsciously took a step back, his back hitting the cold pillar.

Watching Zhao Gao and his ferocious soldiers closing in, Su Ming swallowed hard. In this desperate final moment, looking at Zhao Gao's smug face, he inexplicably blurted out:

"Um... Lord Zhao, is it possible that His Majesty is simply tired and wants to take a nap?"