**Volume 1:Chapter 7. A Cunning Plan Emerges from the Political Council Hall**
Dawn had not yet risen when Jing Jian left his home, yet the eastern mountains of Liang were already aflame with crimson hues.** By instinct, the seasoned warrior knew the day would bring either rain or overcast skies. With each step toward the royal palace, his boots crunched on the frost-hardened soil, a grim reminder that Qin's treasury was as barren as the war-torn fields outside. Not a single carriage—save for the elderly nobility's oxen-pulled carts—dotted the streets, a stark contrast to the bustling markets of Liang or Linzi. The capital's silence was unsettling, though not unfamiliar. Yet today, something felt amiss: the Shandong merchant stalls along the palace avenue lay shuttered, the farmers who usually toiled at dawn were absent, and even the blacksmiths' anvils fell silent. A shiver ran down Jing Jian's spine. Word had reached him of secret agents from the Six States—men who schemed to carve Qin into oblivion. His heart pounded as he hastened toward the Political Council Hall.
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**Within the hall's crimson and black chambers,** King Qin Xiu paced thoughtfully before his council. Four ministers—Left Marshal Ying Qian, Senior Minister Gan Long, Minister Du Zhi, and Historian Gongsun Jia—sat in rigid silence, while Liang County Magistrate Zi Yan animatedly recounted the previous night's events. Jing Jian's eyes widened as Zi Yan described how he'd stormed into a brothel disguised as a merchant, arresting a plump楚国merchant who'd boasted of Pang Juan's prowess. "I demanded he swear fealty to Qin," Zi Yan chuckled, "but the man begged for mercy, offering sixteen-year-old concubines and treasures galore!" The council erupted in laughter, but Jing Jian's smile faded. He knew all too well the stakes: Qin teetered on collapse, and the Six States' alliance threatened to erase it forever.
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**"Sire," Jing Jian interjected, his voice steady despite the chaos, "we must not slay the spies."** The chamber fell silent. "Killing them would only inflame the Six States further," he argued. "They'll seize this as pretext to march. Our best hope is to detain them, protect their property, and let them continue trading—buying time to devise a counterplan."
A murmur rippled through the council. Gan Long, a Confucian scholar, scoffed: "Such treachery dishonors Qin's proud history!" But Ying Qian, the battle-hardened marshal, nodded in agreement. "Even if we spared them," he growled, "how long can we delay the inevitable?"
King Qin Xiu studied Jing Jian, his gaze lingering. The young general's proposal—secretly bribing influential ministers in Wei, Chu, and Zhao to fracture the alliance—rankled with him. Yet there was truth in Jing Jian's words: Qin's armies were outnumbered, its coffers empty. The king's hand hovered over the map of his realm, his mind racing. If he could siphon enough gold and gems from his private treasury—not the starving populace's meager resources—to corrupt the enemy's elites… Perhaps there was a way to turn the tide.
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**"My lords," King Qin Xiu declared, his voice grave, "we face not just a military threat but a moral crisis."** He outlined his plan: use the seized spies as pawns to sow discord among the Six States, promising wealth and favors to those who would betray their allies. "Gan Long, you shall oversee the treasury. Ying Qian, ready our forces for defense. Gongsun Jia, record every detail." The ministers swore allegiance, their faces etched with resolve. Yet none knew the full extent of the sacrifices the king had made—private treasures once meant for his courtiers, now destined to grease the wheels of treachery.
As the council adjourned, Jing Jian lingered, his heart heavy. He'd gambled everything on this risky strategy, yet he understood: in Qin's darkest hour, even shameful means might prove necessary. The king's parting words echoed in his mind—"赳赳老秦,共赴国难" (The valiant Qin people shall face adversity together)—and for the first time since arriving at court, Jing Jian felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps Qin's fate wasn't sealed after all.
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