Integration [First Update]

Nietzsche had a saying: "When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Physics taught us a principle: light paths were reversible.

After padding with those two sentences, there was only one point to make.

That was, while Ye Ting observed Jing Ke, Jing Ke was also observing him.

And so, the young assassin finally saw the Qin King in his entirety.

Unlike the tyrant of legend, said in the tales of the Six States to be three chi tall, hideously ugly, and to feast on human hearts at every meal—a monster who made children stop crying—the Qin King was not the broad-backed, imposing middle-aged man Jing Ke had imagined.

Jing Ke was surprised to discover that seated upon the throne was a remarkably handsome young man—perhaps even too young. He wore a black Nine-Tassel Diadem with golden trim, and his flowing black hair made him seem exceptionally dashing.

Qin revered black, so the Qin King's royal robes were predominantly deep black. The exquisite Black Bird patterns upon them emphasized their wearer's extraordinary nobility. Though these robes were not the bright yellow dragon robes revered by later generations, they still perfectly displayed the bearing and demeanor of a sovereign, carrying an innate majesty that inspired submission.

The Qin King's posture on the throne was far from proper. In fact, leaning sideways against the back of his chair, head tilted, one hand supporting his head and the other casually resting on the armrest, he looked exceedingly relaxed. Generally speaking, monarchs who observed ritual propriety would never assume such a posture in public—especially not during a court audience with an envoy. Otherwise, it would be considered "improper" and unbecoming.

Yet on the Qin King, that casual posture lent a touch of unrestrained elegance to his domineering aura.

Simply standing