Break the ice？

The first lights of dawn broke, and the towering palace of Xianyang stood solemnly against the horizon. Within the grand hall, rows of civil and military officials lined either side, their expressions somber and tense.

"What do you all think?" Lü Buwei's voice rang out, breaking the heavy silence. His commanding gaze swept across the assembly.

The moment his words fell, a sharp intake of breath rippled through the ranks of military officials, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling. General Zhang's forehead throbbed with veins, his face shifting from red to pale to green like a painter's palette. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles cracking as though he might leap forward and challenge Lü Buwei on the spot.

"Minister Lü, I must insist! General Qin Yi has earned countless victories in battle. He should be promoted to a commanding position, reflecting the great meritocracy of our Qin state!" General Zhang finally exploded, stepping forward with a voice as resolute as I hammer striking stone.

His statement was like a boulder cast into a calm lake, instantly stirring waves of discontent. The military officials echoed his sentiment, their voices swelling into a tide of indignation.

"General Zhang speaks the truth!"

"General Qin Yi's contributions are undeniable. How can we tolerate such an insult to his honor?"

"Prime Minister, this reward fails to reflect justice or inspire morale!"

Lü Buwei stroked his beard, his demeanor calm as a mountain, as if he had anticipated the uproar. He began by praising Qin Yi's bravery and valor, calling him an exceptional talent. Then, with a calculated turn, he announced a reward: fertile lands, a thousand tales of gold, and a promotion to the title of Five-Degree Gentleman.

At first glance, these rewards seemed generous, but the truth was clear to anyone with discernment. Such gifts were a subtle slight, avoiding the core issue of elevating Qin Yi's rank and responsibilities. This maneuver was a deliberate slight, undermining the achievements of the military faction.

Furthermore, Qin Yi was a trusted subordinate of General Wang Jian. By downplaying Qin Yi's accomplishments, Lü Buwei was indirectly slapping Wang Jian in the face. 

The military officials bristled at this clear provocation. Anger flared in their eyes as they glared at Lü Buwei, their resentment nearly tangible. Yet they dared not openly defy him, knowing full well his immense power and influence. Frustration churned in their hearts, leaving them feeling as though they had swallowed flies.

Atop the throne, the seventeen-year-old Ying Zheng observed the scene with a composed gaze. Though young, his eyes betrayed a wisdom and restraint far beyond his years. He understood Lü Buwei's true intent—to use this opportunity to suppress the military faction and consolidate his own authority.

But Ying Zheng was painfully aware of his precarious position. The court's power rested in Lü Buwei's hands, leaving him a mere figurehead, a puppet king. How could he hope to challenge Lü Buwei now?

His nails dug into his palms, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks. The pain grounded him, masking the turmoil within.

"Prime Minister, is there any room for adjustment in this proposal?" Ying Zheng finally spoke, his tone level and emotionless, as though discussing an insignificant matter.

Lü Buwei chuckled, a deep, self-satisfied sound dripping with condescension. "Your Majesty jests. Such a proposal has been carefully deliberated and cannot be altered lightly."

The laughter stabbed at Ying Zheng like daggers, sharp and unrelenting. Suppressing the simmering rage in his heart, he maintained his serene facade.

"If that is the case, then let it be as the Prime Minister suggests." His words were calm, betraying no trace of emotion.

Ying Zheng understood that patience was his only weapon. Now was not the time. He needed to endure until the moment came when he could turn the tide.

The atmosphere in the hall grew stifling. Just as the tension seemed unbearable, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Wait!"

Heads turned in unison toward the speaker—a young man dressed in plain robes who walked steadily into the hall. His expression was calm, yet his presence was magnetic, commanding attention.

Who was this audacious figure? Why would he step forward at such a critical juncture? A glimmer of hope sparked in Ying Zheng's eyes. Could this stranger break the stalemate and offer a way to reclaim control?