Ying Zheng Secretly Probes His Son's Feelings, but Zhao Cheng Resolutely Rejects His Birth Father

Ying Zheng's gaze burned like a torch as it swept across every dark, weathered face. "Every member of the Blood-Clad Army who took part in the campaign to destroy Zhao shall be promoted by one rank! Elite Soldiers shall rise to Gongshi, Gongshi to Shangzao, and Shangzao to Zanniao...

And so on. Anyone who has taken more than a hundred heads shall be promoted by three ranks!"

A faint clatter of armor rang out from the ranks. The soldiers could barely contain their excitement.

In Qin State, the difference of a single military rank was like heaven and earth. A promotion meant more fields, more servants, and greater fiefs—a glory countless men had risked their lives to win.

"Furthermore," Ying Zheng continued, "each soldier of the Blood-Clad Army shall receive ten mu of land and a residence, be registered under Xianyang's governor, and be exempt from corvée labor for three years!

The state treasury shall provide for the parents, wives, and children of fallen soldiers until the children come of age!"

"Boom!"

This time, the Blood-Clad Army could no longer hold back. A deafening cheer burst from the ranks.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" The centurions were the first to drop to one knee. Their armor crashed against the flagstones in a unified clang.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" More than ten thousand soldiers of the Blood-Clad Army roared in unison. Their cries surged into the heavens, shaking the bronze bells beneath the palace eaves.

"Thank you, Your Majesty! Thank you, Lord Wuwei!"

The cheers rose and fell, echoing over the square.

Among the ranks in black armor and red cloaks, some gripped their halberds until their knuckles turned white.

Others looked toward Ying Zheng and Zhao Cheng atop the Danbi Steps, war flames blazing in their eyes.

They had already been