Daqin: The First Emperor Bestowed The Throne Upon Me

At noon, Zhao Yu finished fertilizing the longevity fruit tree and turned his attention to the surrounding crops.

The fertilizer for the longevity tree was carefully prepared with medicinal ingredients such as ganoderma lucidum and other rare herbs. It was a meticulous process, as this tree was not just any ordinary plant—it was the key to reviving the system and his ultimate plan.

Surrounding the longevity tree were various crops, all obtained from the system's novice gift bag. These included potatoes, sweet potatoes, and rice—staples that were largely unknown to the people of this era. Potatoes and sweet potatoes, in particular, had the potential to revolutionize Qin's agriculture due to their high yield and nutritional value.

While waiting for the tree to mature, Zhao Yu dug up some early-ripening potatoes and sweet potatoes from the plants with the largest leaves, preparing to cook a hot pot meal.

Outside Zhao Yu's courtyard, three figures approached. Leading them were Lao Zhao and Lao Wang, but this time, a refined and imposing man followed closely behind—Meng Yi.

As a high-ranking official of Qin and a member of a family that had served the state loyally for generations, Meng Yi was deeply trusted by the emperor. His presence signified that Lao Zhao had taken an even greater interest in Zhao Yu.

On the way, Wang Jian had briefed Meng Yi about Zhao Yu's shocking words the previous night—his claim that the First Emperor would die in the sand dunes in three months, and his mention of a so-called longevity fruit tree. These statements had rattled even the seasoned general.

However, the most curious order came from His Majesty himself: "No one is to reveal my identity to him."

Meng Yi couldn't help but scrutinize Zhao Yu upon entering the humble courtyard. What he saw surprised him.

The young man looked weak, as if recovering from illness, but there was an air of intelligence and determination in his gaze. More shockingly, Meng Yi noticed a striking resemblance between Zhao Yu's features and what he had seen of the emperor in his youth!

"This is the so-called 'strange man' His Majesty and General Wang spoke of?" Meng Yi thought, suppressing his initial skepticism.

Lao Zhao was the first to break the silence. "Lao Yu, let's have a drink!"

Zhao Yu, who had few acquaintances in Qin, was not one to refuse company. He set aside his farm work and joined them.

With a grin, Lao Zhao gestured to Meng Yi and said, "Lao Yu, let me introduce you—this is Lao Meng."

Zhao Yu glanced at Meng Yi, noticing the aura of authority around him. The man's sharp features and noble demeanor marked him as someone of high status.

However, Zhao Yu remained casual. "My name is Zhao Yu, just call me Lao Yu."

"Come, let's eat hot pot," Zhao Yu added, leading them inside.

The three men paused. Hot pot?

Curiosity piqued, they followed him into the room, where Zhao Yu placed an iron pot on a charcoal brazier at the center of the table.

As water heated to a rolling boil, Zhao Yu added various vegetables and slices of freshly harvested potatoes. The fragrant steam quickly filled the room.

Meng Yi observed everything closely. Then, he noticed something else—Zhao Yu and Lao Zhao weren't sitting on traditional mats but rather on wooden chairs with backs!

Skeptical, Meng Yi cautiously sat down and was immediately struck by the comfort. Much better than kneeling on the ground!

"Lao Yu, what is this?" he asked, staring at the wooden contraption.

"A chair," Zhao Yu replied nonchalantly.

Meng Yi blinked in astonishment. Something as simple as this could change daily life in ways he had never considered. He now understood why His Majesty and Wang Jian had taken an interest in Zhao Yu. This man was not ordinary.

Soon, the food was ready. Zhao Yu picked up a slice of soft, golden potato with his chopsticks and said, "Try it."

Despite already having eaten earlier, the three men found themselves drawn to the meal. The taste was unlike anything they had ever experienced—soft, flavorful, and deeply satisfying.

Lao Zhao, Lao Wang, and Meng Yi quickly abandoned their initial restraint and dug in enthusiastically.

As they ate, Zhao Yu retrieved several jars of wine, and the atmosphere grew even livelier.

Meng Yi took a sip and widened his eyes in amazement. "Good wine!"

This was by far the finest wine he had ever tasted—rich, mellow, and intoxicatingly smooth. No wonder His Majesty and Wang Jian had become so fond of drinking with this man!

After a while, Lao Zhao set down his chopsticks and let out a contented sigh, rubbing his full belly.

His gaze fell upon Zhao Yu, and an odd thought crossed his mind—if only my sons had half this man's intelligence.

Lao Zhao was not in a good mood as he thought about his eighteen sons. None of them are truly fit to inherit my empire.

Zhao Yu's ability to invent new things, brew exquisite wine, and cook delicious food already made him stand out from the so-called noble scholars at court.

With a sigh, Lao Zhao suddenly asked, "Lao Yu, in your opinion, which of His Majesty's sons is most qualified to be crown prince?"

Zhao Yu was taken aback. He hadn't expected Lao Zhao to care so much about this matter.

Still, this was a good opportunity. The world was heading toward chaos, and if these men could recognize the truth earlier, they might still be able to change the future.

Wang Jian and Meng Yi also turned their attention to Zhao Yu, their expressions serious.

It wasn't that they hadn't urged His Majesty to choose a successor before—but none of his sons had ever truly earned his favor.

Lao Zhao had conquered the world, yet he had no heir worthy of carrying his legacy forward.

Handing over the great Qin Empire—built on the blood and toil of six generations—to a mediocre son was something the First Emperor could not bear to do.

Now, they waited to hear Zhao Yu's answer.