Caiwei struggled arduously to sew with the Weaver’s Needle. The standard robe she’d privately made had reached its final stage, and she’d locked herself in the storehouse for an unknown length of time.

Because the fabric pieces originally sewn into her sleeves had been patched onto the standard robe, her hands that once had been covered with chilblains became swollen and painful again. Perhaps the accumulated illness from many years suddenly erupted—she actually developed winter chilblains in blazing summer. Moreover, because of the hot weather, that numb itching became increasingly unbearable.

In this condition, Caiwei still had to sew the standard robe—truly forcing the impossible. Yet she persisted with endurance beyond ordinary imagination. Not knowing when the First Emperor would return to Xianyang, fearing the Weaver’s Needle would be reclaimed, she had to finish before then.

Because the task at the Weaving Chamber was complete, daily guard watches sufficed, so Caiwei rarely had a period of free time, perfectly allowing her to close herself in the storehouse to rush-make the standard robe.

Even rushing, even with inconvenient hands, Caiwei didn’t work carelessly. The stitching remained as fine and dense as usual.

The night-luminous pearl still emitted its dim glow. Caiwei finally sewed the last stitch, carefully examining the entire robe’s seams, discovering her skill was indeed exquisite. Even touching by hand, one could hardly find the needle-thread gaps at the seams.

Though this standard robe was pieced together from fabric scraps, in terms of craftsmanship, this one surpassed the standard robe hanging in the Weaving Chamber considerably. After all, that one made for the First Emperor was sewn by many weaving maids in rotation. Though they’d paid special attention, the stitch density still showed subtle differences. This one Caiwei completed alone with all her heart and effort—naturally it was different.

Caiwei placed her hands inside the standard robe, clearly experiencing a cooling sensation sliding over them. The numb itching and swelling eased considerably.

Indeed this standard robe was effective! Caiwei was overjoyed, fondly stroking the standard robe, feeling the chilblains on her hands gradually improving. Yet she still resolutely withdrew her hands and devoutly folded the standard robe, then carefully wrapped it with fabric.

The storehouse door was knocked at this moment. Caiwei responded, only realizing her voice had become hoarse from not drinking water for so long.

The door creaked open, brilliant sunlight from outside pouring in. Caiwei, accustomed to dim light, squinted before realizing dawn had long since broken.

“Head Seamstress, the Director of Seals and Tallies has returned.” The Weaving Chamber’s rules had all been reorganized by Caiwei with extreme strictness. The weaving maid outside reported, not daring to step half a foot into the storehouse without permission.

The storehouse remained quiet for a long while. Caiwei tidied her appearance slightly before appearing before the weaving maid. Her complexion appeared somewhat pale from prolonged desk work, but she still looked spirited. She handed the weaving maid a cloth bundle, solemnly instructing: “Deliver this to the young master of the Gan residence. Say it’s clothing Caiwei sent him, and he must wear it.”

Actually, she should have personally delivered it, but the Director of Seals and Tallies’ return proved the First Emperor had also returned to Xianyang. She had to personally present the standard robe in the Weaving Chamber, likely unable to leave the palace for several days. Moreover, if something went wrong and this standard robe was left behind and discovered by chance, then it couldn’t be delivered to her Minister.

So even hurriedly, she had to ensure this standard robe was sent out the first moment after completion. As soon as Minister Gan wore it, he could experience her feelings. Even if he set it aside carelessly, she could inform him during her next visit. Her Minister would definitely treat the clothes she sent him well—this she could confirm.

Because of Caiwei’s accumulated authority, this weaving maid asked nothing and directly complied, receiving the bundle. Weaving maids who’d stayed at the chamber knew the Head Seamstress had formerly been Minister Gan’s maid. Occasionally making him clothing was common—some even secretly gossiped about ambiguity between them.

Caiwei watched this weaving maid turn past the palace wall and leave her sight before checking the Weaver’s Needle pinned in her sleeve, then walked toward the Weaving Chamber.

Fortunately, she’d completed the standard robe before returning the Weaver’s Needle. Caiwei felt a heavy burden suddenly lifted from her shoulders, refreshed and invigorated. Even her face, which rarely smiled, showed relaxed delight.

The guards stationed outside the Weaving Chamber almost widened their eyes seeing her. Caiwei was actually quite beautiful, but maintaining authority by constantly keeping a stern face discounted even the loveliest features. Now summer sunlight illuminated her face. Even without cosmetics, she radiated moving spirit—like a tightly closed flower bud finally blooming with dazzling beauty.

Caiwei walked up the Weaving Chamber steps without sideways glances, pushing open the hall doors.

Because the place hadn’t been used for days, all the Weaving Chamber’s windows were closed, making the light much dimmer than outside. After adapting for a while, Caiwei saw the situation inside clearly. That standard robe still hung on the clothes rack in the chamber’s center, but beside the rack stood a rather tall man, head bowed examining the deep robe on the rack.

He wore a five-colored fish-scale silk deep robe with a military crown on his head. The military crown had green silk cord with double tails standing left and right, the crown cloud soaring skyward—originally the crown worn by the famous King Wuling of Zhao. Still dressing so ostentatiously in Xianyang Palace, this person was precisely the greatly favored person beside the First Emperor—Director of Seals and Tallies Zhao Gao.

“Greetings to the Director of Seals and Tallies.” Caiwei closed the Weaving Chamber’s great doors, curtseying low. “The Weaving Chamber lives up to the First Emperor’s expectations. The deep robe is complete.”

Zhao Gao didn’t turn back, only extending one hand toward Caiwei, crooking his finger, slowly saying: “Weaver’s Needle.”

This wasn’t a question but a brief command. While secretly rejoicing that the standard robe she’d secretly rushed to make was complete, Caiwei drew the Weaver’s Needle from her sleeve, respectfully walked several steps, and placed it in his palm.

“Good. You have done exceedingly well.” Zhao Gao nodded very satisfied, casually placing the Weaver’s Needle on the loom beside him. Then he unfastened the jade belt hook at his waist, slowly removing the five-colored fish-scale silk deep robe from his body.

Caiwei was dumbstruck, countless possibilities flashing through her mind, yet unable even to cry out for help.

Because she knew that no matter what Zhao Gao did to her, she could only endure it gritting her teeth. She had no way to resist.

No one would come save her.

In the dim Weaving Chamber, she couldn’t even see his face clearly, only seeing those eyes radiating bewitching brilliance, emanating compelling presence that nearly suffocated her.

However, after a moment, Caiwei knew she’d overthought. Zhao Gao had absolutely no interest in her. After removing the five-colored fish-scale silk deep robe, he took down the black standard robe from the rack and calmly wore it.

Caiwei gasped. She realized this reality was actually more cruel than her guess. Her lips trembling, the doubt in her heart circled several times at her lips but couldn’t emerge at all.

As if discovering her unease, Zhao Gao said flatly in the darkness: “The First Emperor has passed. This thing is better kept by me.” While speaking, he finished donning the standard robe, then picked up the Weaver’s Needle from the loom, casually flicking his wrist.

Caiwei only felt pain between her brows. Instinctively reaching to touch her forehead, she only felt a sharp object. The sensation was familiar—half a beat late, she realized what pierced her brow center was actually the Weaver’s Needle she’d held every night for these years.

Collapsing powerlessly to the ground, Caiwei realized her consciousness was gradually departing. She desperately widened her eyes, watching Zhao Gao put his own five-colored fish-scale silk deep robe over the standard robe, fastening the jade belt hook. He looked exactly the same as when he’d entered the Weaving Chamber.

So the First Emperor had already passed away.

Otherwise the Director of Seals and Tallies couldn’t possibly have such audacity.

Who knows whose hands the throne of Great Qin would ultimately fall into…

Hopefully Crown Prince Fu Su’s, so her Minister would have a bright future…

Her Minister would be fine.

Fortunately, the standard robe she’d made had already been sent out. She hoped it would be smoothly delivered into his hands…

Thinking with relief, Caiwei slowly exhaled her last breath and gradually closed her eyes.