This year, the Zhao nation still hadn't recovered from the grief of the Battle of Changping and the Battle of Handan. A good hand had been completely messed up, and from then on, the Zhao nation was no longer able to single-handedly oppose Qin, gradually declining in power.,As evening fell, a somewhat luxurious carriage set off from Xianyang City, escorted by a troop of thirty heavily armored cavalry. It headed northeast along the wide, smooth road, galloping incessantly towards Zhao State.,With a pair of clear, black and white eyes, she looked around curiously. Listening to her mother and maidservant's conversation, her little heart couldn't help but skip a beat—was she really going to Zhao country with her mother。