I died young at the start, but I'm reincarnated with unlimited skill points!

The capital of the Great Li Dynasty.

The third year of Zhao Yansi's reign.

This puppet emperor finally met his end.

The cause was an extremely absurd little thing.

After breaking through to the Great Perfection of the Golden Core stage, Xue Du's cultivation level increased rapidly, showing a faint tendency to touch the threshold of the Nascent Soul stage.

However, the threshold for Nascent Soul is extremely high, and a furnace with an extremely Yin body is far from enough.

Blood Crossing requires more resources and more blood tribute.

It issued a new order to Zhao Yansi, tripling the amount of blood tribute to be collected.

three times.

This means that the number of mortals sent to the Blood Refining Workshop every year within the Great Li territory will increase dramatically from ten million to thirty million!

Thirty million young adults and children a year!

This is no longer cutting flesh; this is draining the very marrow from the Great Li Dynasty!

Therefore, Zhao Yansi hesitated for once when he received the order.

It wasn't because he developed a conscience.

Rather, it was because he was well aware that a threefold blood tribute would inevitably trigger a large-scale popular uprising.

Popular uprisings mean turmoil, and turmoil means that his position as emperor is unstable.

If he can't hold his position, he's useless.

Useless dogs only have one fate.

So he hesitated for three whole days.

On the third night, he did something foolish.

He entrusted someone to convey a memorial to Xuedu, the wording of which was extremely cautious and respectful, the gist of which was:

Could the triple blood tribute be implemented gradually over three years to avoid inciting popular uprisings and hindering the great cause of the emperor?

This was a suggestion that he considered extremely reasonable.

But in Xue Du's view, this is a dog questioning its owner's decision.

On the morning of the fourth day.

Zhao Yansi was dragged into the Black Iron Spire.

Blood Crossing did not give him a chance to kneel down and beg for mercy.

A burst of demonic energy pierced through his chest, shattering his heart and most of his chest cavity into pieces.

Zhao Yansi fell in the same spot as Zhao Chengqian.

The blood on the dragon robe mingled with the dark red stain from three years ago that had not yet been completely washed away.

Two generations of puppet emperors.

Three years apart.

They died on the same stone brick.

The same ending, the same irony.

……

When news of Zhao Yansi's death reached the palace, Crown Prince Zhao Heng was practicing swordsmanship in the East Garden.

His hand stopped.

The sword tip hung motionless in mid-air.

After the eunuch beside him finished reporting, trembling, he knelt on the ground, not daring to raise his head.

Zhao Heng remained silent for a long time.

Then, he sheathed his sword.

His expression was extremely calm, as calm as a stagnant pool, without any ripples.

"understood."

He said.

These three words were exactly the same as what his father had said three years ago when he heard the news of his mother's death.

After the eunuchs left, Zhao Heng stood alone in the courtyard.

The autumn wind swept up a few fallen leaves, brushing against his young face, which was already etched with forbearance.

He did not shed a tear.

It's not because I'm not sad.

Rather, it was because he had been prepared for this day to come.

You could even say he had been waiting for this day for far too long.

My father is dead.

The demon needs a new dog.

There are so many spineless people in the Dali royal family, the throne might not have originally fallen to a young boy like him.

However, Xue Du directly named Zhao Heng.

Because it still remembers that for the past three years, every time the crown prince accompanied his father to an audience.

The deputy general's head was buried deep in the dust, and even his breathing exuded absolute obedience.

In Xue Du's eyes, this was a child who was more cowardly, more docile, and easier to manipulate than his father.

New puppets, new watchdogs.

But what Xue Du didn't know was...

This time, the "dog" it chose had teeth that were much sharper than it had imagined.

And one day, it might even turn on its master without hesitation!

……

The moment he received the decree from the Black Iron Spire, Zhao Heng sealed away all his murderous intent and ambition deep within his heart.

He took off his plain white mourning clothes and put on the dragon robe that seemed to still be soaked with the blood of the previous two puppet emperors.

Step by step, he moved toward the center of power, a position he had long been patiently and meticulously plotting.

On this day, the capital's death knell and celebratory bells swirled and tolled in an absurd manner.

Zhao Heng ascended the throne.

The reign title was Yongning.

An extremely ironic era name.

In a world ruled by demons, the name "Yongning" is nothing but a joke.

But Zhao Heng chose it.

Because these two characters were his mother's maiden name.

Shen Yongning.

……

In the spring of the first year of Yongning.

The seventh day after Zhao Heng ascended the throne.

Black iron spire, stone hall.

Xue Du sat in the main seat, with a folded document presented by Zhao Heng in person on the stone table in front of him.

On the cover of the folded booklet, eight characters were written in neat, tiny characters.

"A strategy to collect blood tribute three times over."

Xue Du flipped open the folded book, his vertical pupils slowly sweeping over it.

At first, it was just casual, but the more it looked, the tighter its pupils shrank.

The details are written in the folded book.

The Great Li territory was divided into twelve "transfer zones".

Each region has a "Transport Commissioner" who is directly under the emperor, bypassing local prefectures and garrison offices, and is in charge of the collection, escort, and inspection of blood tribute.

The starting point, transfer points, and ending points of each route, as well as the required troops and supplies along the way, were all precisely specified down to the exact numbers.

It even listed the population base of each state and county, the proportion of eligible blood donors, and the risk level of civil unrest that might be triggered after the conscription.

This is not a memorial to the throne.

This is a slaughterhouse expansion plan.

Xue Du closed the folding book and looked again at Zhao Heng, who was kneeling below the stone steps.

The sixteen-year-old emperor had his head bowed low, his back slightly hunched, his hands resting flat on his knees, and his breathing even.

Submissive, quiet, without the slightest unnecessary movement.

Compared to his adoptive father, who was so foolish as to use a memorial to test his master's limits, this new dog was indeed much more sensible.

"Were you already preparing this when you were still the crown prince?"

"Return to my lord."

Zhao Heng did not look up; his voice remained steady.

"When my father was on the throne, I traveled all over the twelve states of Dali under the pretext of supervising the blood tribute."

"I know all about the population rosters, blood material production, and transportation bottlenecks in each state."

He paused for a moment, then continued.

"Furthermore, I have discovered another problem. In the past, the annual blood tribute, from collection to delivery to the workshop, had a loss rate as high as 30% on paper."

"Twenty percent of the losses were due to illness and death along the way, while the remaining ten percent were intercepted and embezzled by officials at all levels along the route and resold to black market blood traders."

Blood Crossing's vertical pupils suddenly contracted.

%.

Every year, tens of millions of blood tributes are collected, and one-tenth of them are actually stolen by those ordinary officials.

These ants dare to steal food from their master's bowl?!

"Therefore, I propose that the twelve transport envoys must be personally selected by me and be accountable only to me."

"Ensure that every portion of blood tribute is delivered to the Blood Refining Workshop in full quantity and quality, without going through any intermediaries."

"In this way, what you actually receive is far more than three times."

Xue Du remained silent for several breaths.

Then, it did something that Zhao Yansi had not achieved during his three years in power.

It nodded.

"good."

Just two words.

But when Blood Crossing said it, it was more precious than any reward.

The expressions of the demons standing to the side changed slightly, and their gazes toward Zhao Heng held a hint of re-examination.

"You can decide on the choice of the transport commissioner yourself."

"Within three months, I want to see the first batch of triple blood tribute entering the workshop."

Zhao Heng kowtowed deeply.

"Your humble servant obeys."

He stood up, left the stone hall, his steps steady and without the slightest stumble.

Until they emerged from the shadow of the black iron spire and stepped once again onto the bluestone avenue of the palace.

Zhao Heng slowly loosened his fists, which he had been clenching in his sleeves.

The fingernails were deeply embedded in the palm, leaving eight crescent-shaped wounds oozing blood.

They obtained the power of the transport commissioner.

This means he can legitimately place his own people in all twelve states across the country.

In name, they are the henchmen who collect blood tributes for the evil spirits.

In reality, they were the rebels' moles.

But the price is that every number on the fold must be true.

Triple blood tribute, in full quantity and quality, not a single one can be missing.

Even if one of them is missing, Xue Du will become suspicious.

To doubt is to die.

Not only will he die, but the entire network will perish with him.