Deep Palace Thunderclap

The last wisp of blue smoke curled from the bronze beast censer, dissipating silently among the deep halls and pillars of Xianyang Palace. Cheng Xi's eyes snapped open. Cold sweat had soaked through his inner garment, clinging stickily to the thin back of the nine-year-old child. The phantom pain of a burning explosion lingered in his throat, the blinding white light of the laboratory and the flickering bronze lamplight before him tearing wildly at his consciousness.

"Lord Chang'an is awake!" a sharp voice pierced the stillness. The brocade curtains were pulled back, revealing the overly fair face of the eunuch Zhao Gao. His slender eyes were filled with an icy, superficial concern. "Did you have a nightmare? Shall I summon the Imperial Physician?"

Cheng Xi—or rather, the modern soul named Chen Jue, who had just been crammed into this body—clutched the cool, slippery brocade quilt beneath him. Fragments of memories that didn't belong to him, carrying the chilling aura of the Warring States period's deep palace, crashed against his nerves like a tsunami: Year Three of King Zhuangxiang of Qin... Lord Chang'an Cheng Xi... King Brother Ying Zheng returning to Qin from Zhao... Lu Buwei holding sway over the court... and, the rebellious death that history briefly mentioned, belonging to "Cheng Xi"!

"It's nothing," he forced out two stiff syllables. The childish voice of the boy held a subtle hoarseness. "Just had... a strange dream." His gaze swept over the fleeting hint of inquiry beneath Zhao Gao's respectfully lowered eyelids, and his heart sank. This deep palace was so venomous, even a eunuch's glance dripped poison.

The muffled sound of a wooden clapper came from outside the window; it was the third watch. Cheng Xi was alone in the hall. He stepped barefoot onto the cold, black pottery tiles and walked towards a waist-high bronze mirror with a coiled dragon pattern in the corner. The mirror's surface was hazy, reflecting an excessively pale face. The features were delicate, still retaining a childish innocence, but those eyes, like deep pools, held a terror and sharpness unfitting for his age.

[Chaos Analysis System activating... Host binding: Cheng Xi (Chen Jue consciousness dominant)... Energy critically low... Engaging emergency mode...]

A mechanical voice devoid of emotion suddenly exploded in his mind! Cheng Xi stumbled, steadying himself on the cold mirror frame, his knuckles turning white from the force. Countless pale blue streams of data cascaded across his vision:

Physique: 0.7 (Weak)

Mental Threshold: ??? (Abnormal Fluctuation)

Environmental Spiritual Energy Concentration: 0.003% (Sparse, suppressed by unknown force field)

Traces of High-Dimensional Gaze detected... Analyzing source... Warning! Analysis blocked! Insufficient energy! Preliminary analysis: Gaze Intensity - Weak, Tendency - Chaotic Neutral...

The last few lines flickered wildly, turning into a blinding snow of static, and then extinguished completely. A sharp pain, like steel needles piercing his temples, made Cheng Xi groan and collapse to his knees, gasping for breath. Cold sweat trickled down his temples, splashing onto the cold tiles.

That wasn't a dream! The system... and that so-called "gaze"... this was no ordinary historical timeline at all!

As the sky began to lighten, the hall door opened silently. A young man in a dark, deep-colored robe stood against the light. His stature was already developing, his features outlined by the morning sun in a cold, hard edge. He was only thirteen or fourteen, yet his eyes were as calm as a century-old well, all ripples hidden deep within.

"My royal brother is awake?" Ying Zheng's voice was low, possessing a steadiness beyond his years, like the gentle clink of jade. He walked in, his gaze lingering for a moment on Cheng Xi's pale face, then sweeping over the still-damp sweatstains on the floor. "I heard you were restless last night."

Cheng Xi forced himself to lift his head, meeting those bottomless eyes. The First Emperor from the history books stood before him now, the future Ancestor Dragon, currently a young dragon lurking in the whirlpool of the deep palace. Dangerous, but perhaps his only chance of survival. He suppressed the surging storm within his soul and managed a weak smile, fitting for a nine-year-old prince, tinged with lingering fear. "Thank you for your concern, Royal Brother. Perhaps it was the rising earth energy in early spring that caused some strange nightmares."

Ying Zheng offered no comment. He took a few steps closer, the hem of his dark robe brushing the ground, bringing with it a cool scent of pine ink. He took something from his sleeve and placed it on the table. It was an exquisite jade sphere composed of nine jade rings of varying sizes, nested together, flowing with a warm luster in the dim morning light.

"Nine-Linked Rings," Ying Zheng's fingertip lightly touched the innermost ring, his voice devoid of emotion. "The Envoy from Chu presented this to Mother Queen yesterday, calling it a secret treasure from the Land of Chu, embodying the profound principles of heaven and earth, unsolvable by anyone without great wisdom. Mother Queen was greatly pleased." He looked up, his gaze falling on Cheng Xi with palpable weight. "Royal Brother has always been intelligent. Would you care to try?"

Cheng Xi's heart leaped. A test! A silent, cold test from this future emperor. This was far more than a game between children. Zhao Ji (Empress Dowager)'s "great pleasure," Lu Buwei's power, Empress Dowager Huayang (Chu Faction)'s influence... this small Nine-Linked Ring was now a red-hot iron brand! To fail would be to prove himself mediocre and incompetent; to succeed would immediately plunge him into the center of a deeper, more perilous vortex.

He extended a trembling hand and picked up the warm, yet heavy as a thousand pounds, jade sphere. The cold sensation spread from his fingertips. The nine jade rings were instantly deconstructed in his eyes, peeled apart, and reassembled. Topological structure... connectivity... pathfinding... the logical chains of modern mathematics unfurled like lightning in his mind, locking tightly onto the ingenuity of this ancient artifact.

[Analyzing target: Nine-Linked Rings (Secretly made in Chu)... Modeling structure... Deriving topological paths... Generating optimal solution...]

In his mind, the dormant system flickered faintly once more, pale blue threads outlining an incredibly clear three-dimensional model, countless lines weaving, connecting, and dissociating within!

Cheng Xi took a deep breath, his fingers moved. No hesitation, no second-guessing, not even the usual pauses and probes of someone solving the rings. His slender white fingers moved with an almost detached precision, weaving, nudging, and rotating among the intricately nested jade rings. The rings collided, emitting clear, monotonous ding-dong sounds that struck a heart-pounding rhythm in the silent palace.

One ring... two rings... three rings...

Ying Zheng stood with his hands behind his back, his face as calm as a frozen lake. Only his deep-set eyes, with each crisp chime of jade, gradually settled into a profound darkness.

The last, innermost ring detached from its constraint. Cheng Xi gently held it in his palm. Fine beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He handed the still-warm jade ring to Ying Zheng, his childish face striving to maintain a suitable expression of exhaustion after solving a puzzle, along with a faint hint of triumph. "Royal Brother, this object... is quite ingenious."

Ying Zheng did not take the ring. His gaze passed over Cheng Xi's shoulder, fixing on the square, gray sky outside the hall, segmented by high walls. After a long moment, he spoke slowly, his voice as deep as an underground current:

"Ingenious craftsmanship?" A faint, chilling curve seemed to touch his lips, vanishing instantly. "In this Xianyang Palace, which 'craftsmanship' is truly 'ingenious'?"

He withdrew his gaze, returning it to Cheng Xi's face. The scrutiny was now thick, like an invisible vise slowly tightening. "Royal Brother's 'ingenuity' is likely not what the Envoy from Chu desires, nor is it what... certain people would be pleased to see." He leaned forward slightly, the dark fabric of his robe casting a deep shadow that enveloped Cheng Xi completely. His voice dropped to a whisper, yet each word struck like an ice pick into his eardrums:

"Next time you have a 'nightmare,' remember to close your doors and windows tightly. The wind in this palace..." Ying Zheng straightened up, his wide sleeves brushing the cold air, leaving the last half of his sentence hanging in the dead silence of the hall, its echo like a viper's hiss:

"...doesn't just blow in the earth's energy."

The hall door closed silently behind him, shutting out the last sliver of daylight.

Cheng Xi stood alone in the center of the suddenly darkened hall, the cold jade ring clutched in his fingertips. The chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.

Outside the window lattice, a gust of early spring wind, carrying a hint of cold, tried to squeeze through the tightly shut carved wooden grilles, emitting a low, sigh-like whistle.

[Energy recovery 0.1%... Passive perception module activated... Detecting continuous weak gaze... Source analysis: Locking on... Warning! Encountered unknown interference!...]

In his mind, the cold mechanical voice sounded abruptly again, then cut off.

This time, Cheng Xi clearly felt that the silent, pervasive "gaze" seemed to have... drawn a little closer.