On the southern bank of the Zhang River near Julu, after Zhang Han refused to surrender, the Qin army engaged in several fierce battles with the Chu forces. Each battle ended in overwhelming victory for the Chu army, with Qin generals and soldiers either captured or killed. The Chu army's morale soared, while the Qin forces were utterly demoralized. News that the Second Emperor of Qin and Zhao Gao had already died in Xianyang reached Zhang Han's camp, fueling discussions of surrender among both soldiers and his officers.
Under normal circumstances, Zhang Han would have arrested and executed anyone spreading rumors of surrender to set an example. But now, with surrender already on his mind, he turned a blind eye to such talk among his subordinates—even hoping it would spread further and wider to minimize resistance when he eventually capitulated.
He had sent generals loyal to the Second Emperor to confront the Chu army, expecting them to hold out for a few days. However, he had underestimated the combat prowess of the Chu soldiers and overestimated the exhausted Qin troops' morale. Day after day, reports of crushing defeats poured in from the front lines. Seeing the Qin army trapped like fish in a barrel, the King of Zhao grew bold enough to harass them intermittently, adding to their misery.
"If this continues, the Conqueror of Western Chu will lead his forces straight into our central camp. Then I won't be surrendering—I'll be captured!"
A pragmatist at heart, Zhang Han recognized the dire situation and promptly drafted a letter of surrender, dispatching an envoy to the Chu camp.
Though he still commanded 300,000 troops, their provisions were dwindling. The Chu army had seized both granaries and supply routes. A few decisive charges by the main Chu force would spell certain defeat for his massive but vulnerable army. Fleeing would be his only option—and if caught, forget about titles or fiefs; his very life would be at stake.
After sending the envoy, Zhang Han removed his armor, bathed, stored away his weapons, and donned plain clothing. Carrying the tiger tally, he set out for the Chu camp with only a few trusted guards—a symbolic act of laying down arms and surrendering with dignity.
In the Chu camp, Roy received Zhang Han's envoy. Upon hearing of the surrender, he smiled knowingly, having anticipated this outcome.
He had always considered Zhang Han a shrewd man. At first, he couldn't understand why Zhang Han resisted instead of surrendering. Now it became clear: besides wanting Roy to eliminate the Second Emperor's loyalists for him, Zhang Han had hoped to inflict just enough damage on the Chu army through desperate resistance to make his eventual surrender appear more meritorious—a clever calculation indeed.
Alas, Zhang Han had underestimated both the Chu army's might and Roy's capabilities, leaving his schemes as futile as drawing water with a bamboo basket. Realizing further delay would forfeit his chance to surrender, he chose the wisest path at this critical juncture.
"Quite the remarkable man," Roy mused. "He convinced the Second Emperor to release hundreds of thousands of convicts, led them to conquer multiple states, and now swallows his pride to surrender at the right moment. Truly, Qin produces exceptional talent. Had the Second Emperor not been so inept and tyrannical, Qin's foundations could have sustained its rule for centuries."
Roy turned to the Yu Beauty beside him and spoke. Yu Ji had merely been playing the zither to ease his weariness. Her beautiful, ruby-like eyes gazed at Roy, brimming with tender affection.
She had no interest in human affairs, nor in power or jewels—such things were worthless in her eyes. The only person she cared for, the only one she watched, was Roy. Even if all of humanity perished, even if the world itself crumbled, she wouldn't spare a glance. Hearing Roy's words, Yu Ji smiled faintly.
"...This concubine has no interest in such matters. If Your Majesty wishes to discuss these topics, it would be better to summon your subordinates and speak freely with them. Speaking of such things to this concubine may only disappoint Your Majesty."
"A thousand words with those men could never compare to a single word from the Yu Beauty," Roy praised sincerely. "Your demeanor is truly endearing. The kings of ancient times would have longed for a woman as gentle, refined, and understanding as you to become the queen of their harem—one who disdains power yet still pleases the king's heart."
Within royal courts, the struggle for favor among consorts was brutal. If there truly were a woman as beautiful as Yu Ji, one who sought no power, even the coldest of emperors would soften, ensnared by her charm, pouring all his love upon her.
Yet Yu Ji did not listen to Roy's praise. Instead, her delicate brows furrowed slightly.
"...Is Your Majesty speaking of establishing a harem? And who, aside from this concubine, would be in it? Could it be... Liu Ji?"
The things women heard and the way they thought were always different from men. Though Roy had been praising her, Yu Ji had fixated solely on the word "harem."
Roy coughed lightly, steering the conversation elsewhere. "...What are you saying, Yu Beauty? I was merely praising your grace and understanding."
Yu Ji's cheeks flushed, and she lowered her head to pluck at the zither strings.
Gentle? Understanding?
Hearing Roy's praise, even she felt a little embarrassed. She knew herself too well—where was her gentleness? If someone provoked her, she'd be lucky not to smash their skull and spill their brains.
And if trouble arose, she would never bother with roundabout solutions. The only thing she knew was to strike directly, beating down any defiance. There was no room for complications.
Yu Ji was well aware that, in truth, her heart was fierce and tempestuous.
Yet before Roy, she had always shown only her tender, watery softness.
You offer me boundless passion, and in return, I give you devotion carved into my bones.
Your Majesty knows I am not truly so gentle... yet he praises me like this...
The thought alone made Yu Ji's heart feel as though she had tasted honey—sweet not just on her lips, but everywhere.
Seeing Yu Ji fall silent, Roy exhaled and smiled. "...Once Zhang Han surrenders and I've settled matters here, let us visit the Mausoleum of the Yellow Emperor together. From the moment we met until now, I've been buried in official duties. Now that I finally have the chance to be alone with you, I won't waste it. Let us treat it as a spring outing, a chance to wander and enjoy the scenery."
The curse upon human order was gradually fading, and Roy's most pressing concerns had vanished. Thus, he allowed himself to relax, no longer straining to keep human history on its rightful path.
To ensure human history didn't deviate by even 1.8 degrees, he had meticulously calculated every detail, terrified that the slightest oversight might lead down the wrong path. Although the current timeline of this world differed slightly from the history Roy knew, the overall course remained unchanged.
Human history should always be forged by humanity itself. Whenever forces beyond human reason intervene, the inevitable outcome is humanity's destruction—for that history was never chosen by humans, but imposed upon them by others.
This is precisely why the gods vanished from the earth—their very existence would strip humanity of its power to choose.
Although Roy was still human, his essence was akin to that of a god. Beings like him should have remained far removed from this world.
'The Mausoleum of the Yellow Emperor...'
Roy pondered the name of the place in his heart—it was his next destination.