Chapter 580 Ceremony of Submission

"So, young master, what would you like to see?"

After going around in circles, Zhang Liang finally returned to asking Fusu.

It wasn't that he was unwilling to put in the effort, but rather than making wild guesses, it was better to ask for the answer directly. Based on Zhang Liang's understanding of the eldest son, he knew that the eldest son preferred to be in control of the overall situation rather than to be pleasantly surprised.

To be precise, he loves to create "surprises" for others, but few people can surprise him.

If one day the eldest son truly shows surprise, Zhang Liang believes it's not genuine surprise, but simply a sign of the eldest son's high emotional intelligence and a gesture of respect.

Of course, not everyone is so fortunate.

Although he felt he might be within the scope of the eldest son's courtesy, Zhang Liang wanted him to be genuinely comfortable and happy rather than simply being happy with the eldest son's cooperation. So, being straightforward wasn't a bad thing.

Faced with this question, Fusu pondered for a moment, then looked up at Zhang Liang and Meng Yi, "How is such a ceremony usually conducted?"

Meng Yi scratched his head, somewhat troubled: "There has never been a ceremony for the submission of the six states before..."

"When a ruler surrenders, he rides in a plain carriage drawn by white horses, carrying a jade disc and leading a sheep. Officials wear mourning clothes, and scholars are carried in coffins. This is an old system of the Yin and Shang dynasties and can be used as a reference."

After Zhang Liang finished speaking, Fu Su frowned and thought for a moment: "It sounds very boring."

"I've got it!" Fusu suddenly stood up excitedly. "Have the rulers of the six kingdoms each bring a map of their own territory on the day of the surrender ceremony."

"When the ceremony was to take place, the maps of the six states and the map of Qin were pieced together one by one, like a jigsaw puzzle, fitting together perfectly."

Upon hearing Fusu's explanation, Zhang Liang's eyes lit up. "In this way, we can demonstrate to the world that the six states have been incorporated into Qin and the world is unified. We can also show the world that Qin treats the people of the six states equally and will surely protect the people of the world! Your Highness is benevolent. This plan is brilliant!"

Meng Yi nodded in agreement: "This ceremony not only demonstrates the majesty of Qin, but also appeases the hearts of the people of the six states. Your Highness is wise!"

Fusu smiled and said truthfully, "I just wanted to see the jigsaw puzzle."

"Young master is humble."

Zhang Liang and Meng Yi took it as mere modesty and continued to praise him. Fu Su's lips curled up as he listened. Well, if that's how you want to think, then it's not impossible.

Fusu, who seemed exceptionally pleased with the praise, came up with one idea after another.

"This is a gift, and we should also show the grandeur of our Great Qin Dynasty."

As Fusu spoke, he looked at Meng Yi and said, "I have an idea..."

"That sounds so familiar!" Meng Yi's eyes widened. After the Shaofu, it was their turn?

...

On New Year's Day of the eighth year of King Zheng of Qin, the city of Xianyang was shrouded in a solemn yet enthusiastic atmosphere.

A biting wind swept across the city walls, carrying fine snow, but it couldn't disperse the dark Qin banners that lined both sides of the road.

The ferocious white tiger stripes on the banners fluttered wildly in the wind, as if they were about to burst through the cloth and soar into the sky, reflecting off the thirty-six nine-branched bronze lamps hanging high on the city wall, illuminating the entire road to surrender.

At the third quarter of the hour of Chen (7:45 AM), the city gate slowly opened, its creaking startling crows into flight.

The six monarchs, dressed in plain white robes, looked like walking frost and snow under the snow's reflection. The silver hair of the King of Qi, who was at the head of the group, trembled slightly, and the banner around his neck swayed gently with each step.

Behind them, the prime ministers of various countries held gilded border plaques carved with mountains, rivers, and cities. The borders marked on the plaques with vermilion ink gleamed dark red in the cold light, like bloodstains that had not yet dried.

Further on, members of royal families from various countries lowered their eyes and tucked their sleeves, while high-ranking officials bowed their heads, their knuckles turning white, their footsteps leaving heavy echoes on the bluestone slabs.

The people crowded on both sides of the road, and the sounds of children playing and women whispering were drowned out by the clanging of Qin soldiers' armor.

When the six kingdoms' procession reached the Zhangtai Palace, three hundred halberd-wielding warriors struck their shields in unison, the metallic sound causing snowflakes to fall in a flurry.

The master of ceremonies stepped forward, holding a jade tablet, his voice piercing the cold wind: "Present the map, return the land to the king!"

King Han An stepped forward first, his Adam's apple bobbing as he took the tablet from the Prime Minister's hands. His withered fingers reluctantly traced the patterns of Xinzheng City on the tablet.

With a slight hunch, he embedded the board into the specially made bronze frame in front of the hall, and the gap in the territory of Han on the map of Qin was instantly filled.

"South Korea surrenders—"

A trembling voice carried a sense of desolation as Han officials behind him knelt in unison, their wide sleeves sweeping across the accumulated snow. At this moment, the state of Han was officially declared extinct.

The rulers of Wei, Chu, Yan, Zhao, and Qi stepped forward in turn. Each piece of territory that fell represented the demise of a state and the rise of Qin.

When the King of Qi inserted the last piece of land from the Jiaodong Peninsula, the seven gold plates fit together perfectly, outlining a complete map of the world.

Above Xianyang Palace, the rising sun pierced through the clouds, its golden light flowing along the winding Yellow River patterns on the map, as if a divine blessing had been bestowed.

King Ying Zheng of Qin sat atop the nine steps, his twelve tassels on his black crown fluttering even without wind, casting shadows over the rulers and ministers of the six states. He had finally become the ruler of the world.

After the offering ceremony concluded, the rulers and ministers of the six states were led to long seats on both sides of the Zhangtai Palace.

"Today, the six states have been united under Qin, and the world is now one. There should be songs and dances to celebrate."

Ying Zheng suddenly spoke, and with a wave of his black sleeves, the war drums outside the hall roared like thunder.

The people of the six states were on edge, and at this moment, any move by the King of Qin forced them to think deeply.

Is the singing and dancing meant to humiliate them?

The crowd was uneasy, but then they saw more than a hundred armored warriors carrying black wooden plaques file in from behind thirty-six cowhide war drums.

"How can we say we have no clothes? We share the same robes with you!"

The desolate Qinqiang opera, accompanied by the metallic sound, soared into the sky.

Warriors marched swiftly to the beat of the drums, the wooden plaques opening and closing and flipping in a flurry, the mountains and rivers painted in vermilion on the black lacquer surfaces moving as if alive. When the last drumbeat abruptly stopped, everyone held their breath and stared intently—the seven wooden plaques fit together perfectly to form a giant map of the world, with the Qin capital Xianyang right in the center, like a giant dragon coiled around it.

As the shouts resounded through the sky, eight white figures shot through the air like arrows released from a bow.

A commotion arose among the six seats. The sword-wielding youth lightly touched the edge of the wooden sign with his toes, and the sword was drawn in an instant. The sword energy condensed into a tangible cold light that intertwined into a net in the air.

As the youths leaped and tumbled, their swords flashed like silver snakes, unexpectedly cleaving open a chilling wave of air three zhang above the ground.

As the eight figures gracefully landed and shouted "The world belongs to Qin," everyone's eyes were fixed on the center of the map—once the wooden sign was flat, a "Qin" character over ten feet tall suddenly appeared, the edges of the strokes charred black, and the cracks burned by sword energy meandered like lightning.

The scene was silent until Ying Zheng clapped his hands and laughed, at which point the crowd erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.

Compared to the Qin officials' jubilation, the people from the other six states kept their eyes fixed on the boys in the center of the square, muttering to themselves, "How can we possibly defeat them?"

If before they were merely forced by the news revealed by the Heavenly Curtain and by the prevailing trends of the world, then now, witnessing the Qin Kingdom's younger generation unleash their sword energy, the last trace of resentment in everyone's hearts has dissipated.

The mighty Qin Dynasty is invincible.