For any ruler, it was better to believe a prophecy than to dismiss it. Since ancient times, there had been countless instances of people being killed over such taboo prophecies.
Whether this had been fabricated or driven by people with sinister intentions, the First Emperor was still furious. Because he himself had received Heaven's mandate, he firmly believed in such things as prophecies.
Especially since the prophecy involved the word Luo, whose very existence he had tried to erase, a political storm that could only be described as terrifying rapidly spread from Xianyang City throughout Great Qin.
The First Emperor even began to suspect that direct descendants of the Luo Clan still remained in the world. But during the battle of Zhao City, the entire city had been encircled by layer upon layer of troops; even wings could not have carried anyone out. Moreover, many people had personally witnessed all the direct descendants entering the Repository of Classics. The entire repository had been dug up, down to the earth beneath it, and there had definitely been no tunnels. No matter how he considered it, escape should have been impossible.
It was still the same slightly bumpy road they had taken on their way there. Relying on his superb driving skills, the coachman kept the carriage almost perfectly steady.
Luo Ling closed his eyes slightly and began recalling everyone he had met in the Xiang Clan. Then he opened his eyes and shook his head slightly, somewhat disappointed.
Seeing this, Qiao Yun asked, "Household Head, you seemed to attach great importance to Xiang Yu. Why are you so disappointed now?"
Instead of answering directly, Luo Ling asked, "Leaving aside his valor that ten thousand men could not withstand, what sort of person do you think Xiang Yu is?"
Without hesitation,