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.,"My poor Qing'er, you haven't even weaned yet, and now you must go to meet our ancestors with me!"。