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... asty Capital
The sound of rhythmic tapping echoed through the imperial study. Ying Zheng, seated on a magnificent throne forged from pure gold, lightly drummed his fingers against the armrest.
Before him stood trusted ministers Wang Ben, Han Zhang, and Li Si, heads bowed in silence. Moments ago, Zhao Gao had detailed the events on Wudang Mountain—an account that had left the First Emperor deep in thought.
Not daring to disrupt the emperor’s contemplation, the gat ...
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