The imperial carriage raced along the bluestone streets of Xianyang.
It did not return to the palace.
Under the command of Ying Ziye, the convoy turned directly toward the western part of the city.
This area had once been an abandoned military armory.
Now, however, high walls stood all around it.
From above the walls, black banners could be faintly seen fluttering.
“Father Emperor, we’ve arrived!”
Ying Ziye was the first to jump down from the carriage.
He turned back and stretched out his small hand, preparing to help Qin Shi Huang down.
Looking at that small, dirty hand, Qin Shi Huang felt a warmth in his heart. He took it and stepped down with its help.
Li Si, Wang Jian, and Meng Yi followed closely behind.
The moment they steadied themselves on the ground, Wang Jian’s brows furrowed.
Killing intent.
Such intense killing intent.
The courtyard looked ordinary—almost dilapidated.
But the two rows of guards at the gate made this veteran general, who had survived countless battles, feel a faint unease.
They wore black, tight-fitting armor he had never seen before.
Their faces were covered with black iron masks, revealing only their eyes.
Cold.
A coldness like they were looking at dead men.
“Brothers of the Brocade Guard, rank-and-file officers, greet the Young Master! Greet His Majesty!”
Seeing Ying Ziye arrive, the twenty guards all dropped to one knee at the same time.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized.
Even the sound of their armor clashing became a single crisp “clang.”
Wang Jian and Meng Yi exchanged a glance.
Both saw shock in each other’s eyes.
Such discipline—even the Emperor’s personal guard might not surpass this!
Ying Ziye waved his small hand.
“Rise.”
“Open the gate. I’m taking Father Emperor to see a big treasure!”
“Yes!”
The heavy ironwood gate slowly opened with a grating sound that made one’s teeth ache.
The moment a crack appeared, a wave of scorching heat rushed out.
“Hoo—”
Li Si staggered back, covering his face.
“What is this…?”
Qin Shi Huang also narrowed his eyes instinctively.
When the gate fully opened, everyone froze.
Inside the courtyard was nothing like what they had imagined.
There were instead enormous, strange brick towers.
At the base of each tower, dark red flames spewed upward.
Countless bare-chested men moved rapidly between the structures, holding long iron tongs, drawing out streams of…gold-red liquid rivers.
Was that water?
No.
It was fire.
Flowing fire.
“This… this is earth fire?!” Li Si exclaimed in shock, his face pale.
To him, only the lava of hell could take such a terrifying form.
Qin Shi Huang also frowned deeply, uncertain.
He turned to Ying Ziye.
“Ziye, what is this?”
Ying Ziye lifted his little chin proudly.
“Father Emperor, this is not earth fire.”
“It is iron.”
“Iron that has turned into liquid.”
Qin Shi Huang froze.
Iron?
Most weapons of Great Qin were bronze.
Although iron existed, it was hard, brittle, and extremely difficult to forge.
How could it possibly be turned into liquid?
Ying Ziye did not explain further.
He pulled Qin Shi Huang toward a cooling pool.
A craftsman was using tongs to lift a freshly quenched black blade.
Ying Ziye took a long sword that had already been prepared beside him.
The blade was slender and slightly curved.
Its edge carried flowing cloud-like patterns.
A chilling gleam radiated from it.
“Father Emperor, look.”
Holding the sword with both hands, Ying Ziye presented it to Qin Shi Huang.
Qin Shi Huang accepted it.
The blade felt slightly heavy in his hand.
He flicked his finger against it.
“Zheng—!”
A clear, resonant dragon-like ring echoed across the entire courtyard!
What a blade!
Even Li Si, who knew nothing about weapons, could tell this was an extraordinary sword.
Wang Jian’s eyes locked onto it instantly.
He was a man who loved blades.
He stared intently at the sword in Qin Shi Huang’s hand, his throat rolling slightly.
“Your Majesty…”
“This old minister… may I take a look?”
Qin Shi Huang was in high spirits and casually handed the blade over.
“Old General is an expert. Take a look.”
Wang Jian received it as if it were a priceless treasure.
He stroked the blade, feeling its terrifying sharpness.
“Excellent iron! This iron… there isn’t a single impurity!”
“However…”
His tone shifted, hesitating slightly.
“The blade is so long and narrow—it seems somewhat thin.”
“Our Great Qin values heavy, powerful weapons.”
“This blade… might not withstand a collision.”
He was speaking honestly.
On the battlefield, weapons frequently clashed with immense force.
If the weapon was too brittle, it would snap on impact—and that meant death.
Hearing this, Ying Ziye pouted.
“Grandpa Wang Jian, you don’t believe it?”
Wang Jian gave a dry laugh.
“Your Highness, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but warfare is…”
“Then let’s test it!”
Ying Ziye interrupted him.
He pointed at the sword at Wang Jian’s waist.
“Grandpa Wang Jian, that’s the ‘Ding Qin Sword’ His Majesty bestowed upon you, right?”
“I heard it can cut through iron like mud?”
Wang Jian straightened his chest proudly.
“That is correct!”
“This sword was forged by master craftsmen over three years. I have carried it through battles against the Six States, and it has never chipped!”
Ying Ziye grinned.
“Then draw it and try cutting this blade.”
Wang Jian immediately waved his hands.
“No, no, no!”
“This old man’s sword is too heavy. If I accidentally break Your Highness’s new blade, wouldn’t that ruin your interest?”
Ying Ziye placed his hands on his hips.
“If it breaks, I’ll take responsibility!”
“And if it doesn’t break, Grandpa Wang Jian must agree to one condition!”
Wang Jian looked toward Qin Shi Huang.
Qin Shi Huang was also intrigued and nodded.
“Try it.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Only then did Wang Jian respond.
He drew the thick, heavy bronze sword from his waist.
A chilling light flashed across its edge.
It was a weapon that had drunk the blood of countless enemies.
A Brocade Guard stepped forward and held the long, narrow blade horizontally with both hands.
Wang Jian took a deep breath.
“Forgive me, Your Highness!”
Before the words even faded, his wrist moved.
He did not use full strength—only thirty percent.
“Clang!”
A sharp crack echoed.
Sparks burst everywhere.
The two weapons collided violently.
Wang Jian only felt a shock run through his hand.
He looked closely.
And in that instant—
The veteran general who had swept through the Six States almost popped his eyes out.
It was broken!
It had truly broken!
Half of the thick bronze sword’s tip spun through the air and flew away.
With a “thud,” it landed on the ground.
And the long, narrow blade?
Completely unharmed.
Not even a single notch.
Silence.
A deathly silence.
Meng Yi stood there with his mouth wide open—his jaw nearly dropped to the ground.
Li Si rubbed his eyes hard, wondering if he was seeing things.
Wang Jian stood there like a wooden post, holding only half of his broken sword.
That was the Ding Qin Sword!
That was the highest-grade weapon of the Great Qin military!
And it had just…
Broken?
Shattered by a thin, light-looking blade?
“This… this…”
Wang Jian stammered, unable to form proper words.
Ying Ziye clasped his hands behind his back and smiled like a little fox.
“Grandpa Wang Jian, how is it?”
“This is called refined steel.”
“Forged through a thousand hammerings, removing all impurities.”
“It is three times harder and ten times more resilient than your heavy bronze swords!”
“Thud!”
Wang Jian dropped to his knees.
He threw away the broken sword and hugged Ying Ziye’s leg tightly.
Tears streamed down his face.
“Your Highness!!”
“This blade… this blade—do we have more of it?!”
“We must equip the Lantian garrison with it!”
“With this weapon, our Great Qin warriors could fight ten enemies at once!!”
No general could refuse such divine weapons.
This was something that could change the entire structure of warfare!
Qin Shi Huang watched this scene, and the shock in his eyes was no less than Wang Jian’s.
He knew Ying Ziye had produced something impressive.
But he never expected—
Something this extraordinary.
This wasn’t a surprise anymore.
This was a shock.
“Ziye…”
Qin Shi Huang’s voice tightened slightly.
“Can this be mass-produced?”
If there was only one, it was a treasure.
If there were ten thousand…
It would be invincible.
Ying Ziye nodded and pointed toward the row of furnaces behind him.
“As long as the furnaces don’t go out, Father Emperor can have as many as he wants.”
Qin Shi Huang took a deep breath.
He felt his heart pounding violently.
The strength of Great Qin had, in this instant, risen by an entire level.
“Also!”
Before they could recover, Ying Ziye ran to another rack.
There lay a strange-looking crossbow.
It was shorter than the standard Qin repeating crossbow, but far more complex in structure.
Most unusual of all, it had a cylindrical device mounted on top.
“Is this also a weapon?”
Meng Yi couldn’t help asking.
Ying Ziye struggled to lift the crossbow.
“Uncle Meng, can you hit that target?”
He pointed into the distance.
At the far end of the courtyard stood a straw dummy wearing two layers of heavy armor.
The distance was at least 150 paces.
Meng Yi looked at it and shook his head.
“Too far.”
“With Great Qin’s strong crossbow, hitting a target at a hundred paces is already the limit.”
“At 150 paces, and piercing two layers of heavy armor—it is beyond human ability.”
Ying Ziye said nothing.
He raised the crossbow.
Pressed his cheek against the cylindrical sight.
And squinted one eye.
“Thump!”
A dull, heavy release sounded.
Unlike the vibration of a bowstring, this sound was shorter and more forceful.
“Thud!”
Almost at the same moment.
The distant straw dummy shook violently.
A short bolt had struck it hard in the chest.
It pierced straight through the armor.
And exited from the back!
“Hiss—”
A collective gasp filled the courtyard.
Meng Yi quickly ran over to inspect the target.
A moment later, he returned holding the bolt, his face looking like he had seen a ghost.
“It… it went through!”
“Two layers of iron armor! Completely pierced through!!”
“How is this even possible?!”
Meng Yi looked at the eight-year-old child.
With Ying Ziye’s small strength, how could he possibly draw a powerful bow capable of shooting 150 paces?
“This is a compound pulley system.”
Ying Ziye patted the wheel-like mechanism on the crossbow.
“It reduces the required force by eighty percent.”
“Even a woman… uh, I mean even a weak girl could draw it.”
“That cylindrical part is called a sight scope. It lets you see distant objects as if they were closer.”
“As long as you’re not blind, you can hit the target.”
Wang Jian was still kneeling on the ground and hadn’t gotten up yet.
Hearing this, he scooted closer to Ying Ziye’s leg again.
“Your Highness…”
“I want this too…”
“I want everything…”
Looking at this group of Great Qin elites whose worldview had been shattered by what might as well be modern technology, Qin Shi Huang’s emotions slowly shifted from shock into something far more complicated.
He looked at the flowing molten iron.
At the broken bronze sword.
At the armor that had been pierced through.
Everything here exceeded his understanding.
It surpassed what ordinary mortals should be capable of.
“Ziye.”
Qin Shi Huang spoke slowly.
“Are all of these… things you came up with yourself?”
Ying Ziye shook his head.
He tapped his own head.
“Father Emperor, these are not things I simply ‘thought of’.”
“This is called ‘investigating the principles of things.’”
“If we keep studying and improving, one day we will achieve things even immortals cannot do.”
“Immortals…”
Qin Shi Huang murmured the word.
He repeated it softly.
His gaze grew distant.
Things even immortals cannot do?
Then this molten iron, this divine crossbow, this strange crop called potatoes…
Were they not miracles?
He looked at the eight-year-old child before him.
That small body seemed to contain an endless, boundless world.
A world he could not understand—but deeply yearned for.
The surrounding noise seemed to fade away.
Suddenly, Qin Shi Huang remembered something.
His breathing quickened slightly.
He stepped forward and crouched down so that his eyes met Ying Ziye’s.
In the eyes of the emperor who had seen all of history’s storms, there was now a rare, almost fragile trace of desire.
“Ziye.”
His voice was very soft.
So soft it seemed afraid of disturbing something.
“You said… immortals.”
He paused, his throat tightening.
“Have you… truly seen immortals?”
Ying Ziye blinked his large eyes.
His expression was innocent and pure.
“Father Emperor, do you want to meet immortals?”
Qin Shi Huang fell silent.
The wind swept through the courtyard, carrying the crackling sound of furnace fire.
He had pursued immortality for many years.
Sent Xu Fu across the sea, dispatched Lu Sheng in search of elixirs.
He had spent enormous wealth seeking the path to immortality.
Yet he had never truly seen an “immortal.”
Everyone told him they existed—but none could produce anything from the immortals.
Except for his son.
Everything this child produced seemed as if it had been stolen from the heavens.
Qin Shi Huang looked at Ying Ziye.
That desire within him grew wildly, like weeds devouring reason.
After a long silence, he finally spoke again, his voice carrying a faint tremor.
“These divine objects of yours… were they truly bestowed by immortals?”
Ying Ziye did not answer.
He only nodded firmly.
Qin Shi Huang took a deep breath.
His grip on Ying Ziye’s shoulders tightened until his knuckles turned white.
This was the answer he had wanted all his life.
“The immortals…”
“Did they ever say…”
He stared directly into his son’s eyes, word by word.
“How does one achieve immortality?”
Discussion
Comments
0 comments so far.
Sign in to join the conversation and keep your activity tied to this account.
No comments yet. Start the conversation.