Mohist Disciples Forge Machines That Astonish the Gods; Blood Butcher Studies the Mechanisms and Sets His Sights on Hegemony

Wang Ji abruptly raised his head, wanting to say something, but he was still wary of the generous willingness to die he had displayed earlier.

He feared this was a trap the king had laid to test him.

But the soldiers dragging him away had already arrived. Iron-tongs-like hands clamped around his arms and hauled him toward the door.

Wang Ji's boot soles gouged two deep furrows into the ground as he struggled desperately. The jade ornament around his neck snapped and rolled to a stop at Ying Zheng's feet.

In that instant, all his grand declarations of willingness to die shattered, leaving only an overwhelming desire to live and a terror of death.

"Your Majesty! I... I don't deserve to die!

"It was Zhao Cheng!

"He deliberately withheld the grain, hoping to make Your Majesty lose face in Zhao!"

He shrieked, his voice as sharp as a cat being stepped on. "Lord Changping can testify! The officials in Handan can all testify!"

But Ying Zheng didn't look at him. Instead, he glanced at Dun Ruo beside him. "Send word to Zhao Cheng. Have the Blood-Clad Army bring in provisions!"

Those words drained the color from Wang Ji's face.

If Blood Butcher came in person to bring in provisions, wouldn't all their schemes be exposed in an instant?

If Zhao Cheng learned what they had done, how many heads would roll once he investigated?

It was over...

Wang Ji's struggles and pleas for mercy suddenly weakened.

Thud!

The sound of a head hitting the ground rang out outside.

The minor clerk, still groping around on the ground, heard it and shuddered violently. He collapsed as though his bones had been pulled from his body, a dark wet patch spreading across his trouser leg. He lifted his head, his face as