Prince 022

Firearms! If only I can produce firearms, I will be invincible under heaven!

Thinking of his troops wielding guns against the Zhou soldiers, who could only rely on bows and spears, the King couldn't help but laugh.

But when the King toured the firearms workshop, his expression soured.

"It's been a whole six months! And you've made nothing?"

Seeing the crooked iron pipe presented by the craftsmen, the King's face turned green with anger.

"Host, would you like to use points to exchange for a firearm blueprint?" the system interjected at just the right moment.

"No need." The King took a deep breath. He knew this damn system must have some ulterior motive. Besides, in the current environment, even if he had the firearm manufacturing blueprint, it would be useless—productivity simply couldn't keep up.

The Liao Kingdom was poorly positioned. Neither its mineral resources nor its goods matched the prosperity of the Zhou lands, which was precisely why he wanted to conquer Zhou in the first place.

As a time traveler, his ultimate goal was to unify the entire world!

Calming himself slightly, he recalled how he entered this body just as it was on the verge of death, then step by step became the King. Only he understood the hardships along the way. To seize this position, he had even personally removed his own weakness.

The original body's family could not have died in vain.

The King slowly raised his eyes, staring at the map he had drawn himself, his gaze growing increasingly fervent.

Just wait a little longer, just a little longer!

"Guards! Take the workshop supervisor and behead him! The assistant takes over!" He swept away in his sleeves, ignoring the craftsman's pleas for mercy.

Great men must be ruthless!

Soon, however, he received good news. Because the Son of Heaven of Great Zhou was benevolent, the border trade routes were specially opened, allowing frontier people to trade goods like horses and furs with the nomadic tribes.

This gave him an idea.

"After that old man from the Wang family died, who took charge?"

"Your Majesty, intelligence reports say it's Wang Qingzhi. After the Wang family was ambushed and slaughtered by bandits, Wang Qingzhi acted swiftly and quickly took control. This man likely planned for a long time; he has some skills."

The King narrowed his eyes: "Wang Qingzhi... send someone to contact him." He slowly turned around. "As for that 'bandit ambush,' it's clearly a scheme by the Zhou emperor. Offer him a deal he can't refuse. If he succeeds, he can not only avenge his family but also make the Wang family flourish under his rule!"

"Yes."

Inside the Royal Academy of Great Zhou:

"The Earth is round, and seawater covers most of its surface..."

Fang Zhiyi propped his chin with one hand, watching this guy gesticulating wildly before him.

This was the fourth time traveler he had encountered.

"Are these the so-called disposable transmigrators?" Fang Zhiyi asked Xiaoxiaohei.

Xiaoxiaohei replied, "They're not disposable. These are aimless travelerseen—some by accident, some due to system crashes—dragged into this world." It paused, "Actually, in the worlds you've visited before, there were similar travelers. Most died quickly, but a few eventually influenced the original world. However, because such travelers lack a system or have one too weak, they end up assimilated by the world."

"What interests me is that traveler you specially reported on. If they caught your attention, they can't be simple." Fang Zhiyi was puzzled. "The recruitment news I spread across Great Zhou has brought out all these oddballs. Why does that traveler remain so patient?"

After casually assigning some work to the guy who had been explaining, Fang Zhiyi dismissed him. This traveler at least had some knowledge. Unlike the last one, who started singing on arrival—others were fine, but Fang Zhiyi almost slapped him senseless. Not a single note was on key!

Just as he was about to wrap up, a spy walked in. Without a word, he handed a sealed envelope to Fang Zhiyi.

Looking at the special mark on the envelope, Fang Zhiyi's expression turned strange.

"This is getting interesting." He looked up at the spy. "Call your chief over."

The spy acknowledged and left.

Xue Qingsong was originally a citizen of Zhou, living near the border. Because the tax collectors had driven his father into a corner, he had bravely taken Xue Qingsong and his mother across the border into the Liao Kingdom, seeking only a livelihood.

But Xue Qingsong's father never expected that in Liao, Zhou people were not welcome. The Liao natives could bully them at will. In such an environment, Xue Qingsong's already ill mother soon passed away, and before long, his father also died.

Xue Qingsong thought his life would be the same as his father's—doing odd jobs to get by. But the newly crowned King proposed the idea of Liao-Zhou equality, meaning Liao and Zhou people would have equal status. To this end, he even appointed some Zhou people as minor officials.

Xue Qingsong was lucky—his decent looks helped him land a job as a tax collector for the Liao.

But he soon realized that this so-called Liao-Zhou equality was merely a slogan the King used to control more productivity. They needed Zhou people to better manage other Zhou people, turning conflicts between Liao and Zhou into conflicts between Zhou people themselves.

Yet, even knowing this, what could he do?

At least now he didn't have to worry about tomorrow's livelihood, and occasionally, he could afford a good drink.

But often harassed and mocked by his superiors, Xue Qingsong was always full of grievances. He put on a smiling face before them, then vented curses in the tavern.

That day, he was drinking alone again. Thinking about his superior's harsh expressions earlier, he gritted his teeth and cursed.

"Damned Liao dogs! One day, you'll meet your doom!"

After cursing, Xue Qingsong felt a bit better. He had heard others say that life in Zhou had improved, with many commoners having received their own land. He didn't know if it was true.

If his father hadn't brought him out, would his life be better now?

As he was pondering this, someone suddenly sat down across from him.

"Scram," Xue Qingsong said with a glance. Just one look told him the man was from Zhou.

But the man just smiled, waved over the waiter, ordered two extra dishes, and a pot of fine wine.

"Compal, don't be so harsh!" the man said cheerfully.

Xue Qingsong looked at the wine the waiter brought and couldn't help but be surprised—he wouldn't even spend his money on this wine daily. This fellow Zhou national must have stumbled into some profitable connections.

"I don't know you," he said anyway.

The man poured the wine, pushed a cup toward him, and said, "Now you do. My name is Tan Jiu."

Tan Jiu? Never heard of him.

Xue Qingsong didn't refuse. He had a belly full of complaints ready to spill.