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After handling those heavy imperial matters, the Emperor dismissed his ministers. The weight of the crown was immense, a constant, crushing pressure of logistics, warfare, and statecraft. But Lie Fan was not just an emperor, he was a man who deeply cherished the world he was building. Leaving the quiet intensity of his study, Lie Fan walked out into the breathtaking, sprawling royal gardens of the inner palace.
The gardens were a masterpiece of botanical architecture, featuring serene, crystal clear koi ponds, gracefully arched wooden bridges, and vibrant, colorful weeping willows that danced gently in the warm spring breeze.
Here, shedding the terrifying, calculating aura of the Black Dragon, Lie Fan spent some precious undisturbed quality time with his many children.
The garden was filled with the joyous, innocent sounds of laughter. Crown Prince Muchen, growing taller and stronger by the day, was currently wielding a small, expertly carved wooden sword, bravely defending a silk pavilion from his younger siblings who were playfully tossing flower petals at him.
Lie Fan sat on a carved stone bench, a warm, genuine smile lighting up his usually stoic features. He called Muchen over, adjusting the boy's grip on the wooden sword, teaching him the fundamental stances of the Hengyuan vanguard with a gentle, patient tone that would have shocked his ruthless generals.
As he watched his children play, chasing each other through the vibrant gardens without a single care in the world, Lie Fan couldn't be any happier.
He looked around the gardens, noticing the distinct, quiet absence of his five beloved wives. Ying Yue, Diao Chan, Cai Wenji, Lu Lingqi, and Zhen Ji were all currently out of the palace, incredibly busy with the grueling and demanding, but immensely fulfilling work of the new pioneering professions they had taken on.
Rather than feeling lonely, Lie Fan felt a deep sense of fulfillment. For centuries, the emperors of old had kept their women locked away in the gilded, heavily perfumed cage of the Harem Palace, forcing brilliant minds to suffer through suffocating, repetitive daily activities, political backstabbing, and meaningless gossip.
Lie Fan had shattered that cage. He was immensely proud to let the women he loved have real, impactful things to do that actively shaped the future of the empire. Ying Yue was saving lives in the capital hospital, Diao Chan was elevating the cultural soul of the nation, Cai Wenji was rewriting the academic standards, Lu Lingqi was forging an army of shield maidens, and Zhen Ji was commanding the flow of continental silver. They were true pioneers, and his heart swelled with absolute pride for their fierce competence.
Of course, Lie Fan was a man who left nothing to chance. While they were out changing society, boldly stepping into a world that was still adjusting to their authority, he had absolutely made sure their physical safety was placed at the very top of his imperial priority list.
Unbeknownst to the general public, he had surrounded their academies, hospitals, barracks, and merchant guilds with a massive, invisible net of elite, heavily armed undercover Oriole Agents.
The seemingly frail patient waiting in Ying Yue's clinic with a hidden dagger in his sleeve, the quiet scholar sweeping the floors of Wenji's library, the gruff merchant carrying Zhen Ji's ledgers, they were all lethal killers, specifically ordered to violently and silently eliminate any traditionalist fanatic who dared to even look at the Emperor's wives with malicious intent.
As Lie Fan hoisted his giggling daughter onto his shoulders, basking in the warmth of the sun and the love of his family, he knew that the peaceful, prosperous world he was fighting so brutally to build was finally beginning to take shape.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the bustling capital, far away from the quiet serenity of the royal gardens, a completely different kind of world shaking event was taking place inside the scorching, heavily fortified walls of the Imperial Workshop.
The massive complex was a chaotic, sensory overload of industry. The air was suffocatingly hot, thick with the smell of burning coal, sulfur, and heavy machine grease. The deafening symphony of massive iron trip hammers, blazing blast furnaces, and the constant, frantic shouting of hundreds of soot stained engineers filled the sprawling courtyards.
Deep inside the most secure, highly classified testing hangar of the workshop, an exhausted but fiercely determined team was gathered around a long, heavy iron table.
Huang Yue Ying, her hair tied back with a simple leather strap and her face smeared with black grease and sweat, leaned intensely over the table. Alongside her was of course her aging father, Huang Chengyan, Liu Ye, and Zhuge Liang.
For weeks, ever since returning from the brutal, muddy tracks of the deep south, they had passionately continued their grueling research and highly dangerous physical experiments on the massive "Steam Carriage" that Yue Ying had originally envisioned.
The table before them was littered with shattered gears, ruptured copper pipes, and failed, twisted metal prototypes that represented countless sleepless nights and explosive failures.
But today, sitting on a small, perfectly leveled track of miniature iron rails laid across the length of the table, was their latest creation, the Dual Cylinder Prototype Mark VII.
It was a beautiful, complex beast of polished brass and dark iron. It featured a reinforced, miniaturized cylindrical boiler, connected by a maze of complex, pressure sealed copper piping to two horizontally mounted sliding valve cylinders on either side of the chassis.
"The coal is burning at maximum yield," Huang Chengyan coughed, his hands trembling slightly as he checked the firebox beneath the miniature boiler. "The water is boiling."
"Pressure is building," Liu Ye muttered, his eyes glued to a primitive, spring loaded pressure gauge they had invented specifically for this test. The needle was slowly ticking upward, entering the red zone where previous prototypes had violently exploded into shrapnel. "Holding... holding at critical mass. The new reinforced riveting is holding the pressure."
Yue Ying's heart hammered against her ribs like a war drum. She locked eyes with Zhuge Liang across the table. The master strategist gave her a firm, deeply respectful nod.
"Open the primary throttle valve," Yue Ying commanded, her voice cutting through the hiss of the escaping steam.
Liu Ye grabbed a pair of heavy leather tongs and carefully turned the brass release wheel.
Instantly, the highly pressurized steam rushed from the boiler, flowing perfectly through the copper pipes and violently slamming into the dual horizontal cylinders.
Hiss CLACK.
The left piston shot forward with immense, concentrated kinetic force, turning the iron drive pin. A fraction of a second later, the sliding valve perfectly redirected the steam to the right cylinder.
Hiss CLACK.
The right piston fired, pulling the wheel forward and simultaneously pushing the left piston back into its starting position, creating a flawless, continuous loop of reciprocal motion.
The four brilliant engineers held their collective breath.
With a loud, rhythmic chug chug chug, the miniature, pressurized iron beast suddenly lurched forward.
No horses pulled it. No men pushed it.
Driven entirely by the boiling wrath of water and coal, the iron wheels gripped the miniature track. The prototype accelerated, moving smoothly and rapidly down the length of the heavy iron table, its dual pistons pumping in a beautiful, synchronized mechanical blur, puffing tiny clouds of white steam into the sweltering air of the workshop.
It reached the end of the track, slamming into a padded leather bumper with a heavy thud, its wheels still grinding relentlessly against the iron rails, desperate to keep moving forward.
For three agonizingly long seconds, there was absolute silence in the hangar, save for the hiss of the steam engine.
It worked. It actually worked.
The unprecedented small breakthrough absolutely, undeniably proved that Yue Ying's revolutionary locomotive theory could actually be done in reality. The dead center of the piston stroke had been conquered. Continuous rotational force from steam was possible.
Seeing the heavy iron wheels turn entirely on their own, the four brilliant engineers erupted into deafening, euphoric cheers.
Huang Chengyan wept openly, hugging his daughter with an immense pride. Liu Ye threw his heavy leather tongs into the air, laughing like a madman, calculating the sheer artillery weight such an engine could pull. Even the usually composed Zhuge Liang slammed his hands onto the table, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across his face as his mind instantly visualized thousands of these iron beasts transporting Hengyuan legions across the continent in days rather than months.
Yue Ying stood at the end of the table, staring at the little puffing machine, tears of pure exhaustion and overwhelming triumph streaming down her soot stained cheeks. She had done it. She had forged a new era.
"We don't sleep," Yue Ying announced, her voice shaking with adrenaline, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. She looked at her father, Liu Ye, and Zhuge Liang, her eyes burning with a relentless, undeniable fire. "We take this blueprint. We obsess over every single mathematical variable. We scale it up fifty times its size."
The three men nodded in unified agreement. The time for theory was over. They immediately and obsessively focused all of their time, all of the workshop's immense resources, and the absolute peak of their combined intellect to push through this exciting new breakthrough.
The Hengyuan Dynasty had already conquered the land and the oceans with blood and iron. Now, deep in the scorching heat of the Imperial Workshop, they were preparing to conquer time and distance themselves. The true iron beast was finally ready to be born.
Heavily fueled by the exhilarating, heart pounding success of their miniature model, Huang Yue Ying, Huang Chengyan, Liu Ye, and Zhuge Liang did not leave the sweltering confines of the Imperial Workshop to celebrate. To them, the celebration was the work itself. They immediately transitioned from the realm of theoretical physics to the grueling, immensely complex engineering reality of creating the much bigger, life sized version of the prototype.
They were attempting to build a machine of a scale and weight that had never existed in human history. The massive hangars of the workshop were completely cleared of all other projects, transforming into a dedicated, highly classified shipyard for land. Dozens of the empire's absolute best blacksmiths and metallurgists were sworn to secrecy and brought into the fold.
Yue Ying worked tirelessly through the suffocating heat of the blazing blast furnaces. Her delicate silk robes were replaced entirely by thick leather aprons, her hands blistered and stained permanently with soot. She stood over massive, sprawling blueprints spread across heavy wooden tables, frantically calculating the exponential increases in steam pressure required to move a chassis that would weigh thousands of catties.
"The boiler walls must be cast thrice as thick as the ship engines," Liu Ye shouted over the deafening roar of the trip hammers, his face dripping with sweat as he inspected the massive clay molds being prepared for the iron pour. "If the pressure inside a chamber this size breaches, it won't just explode, it will level this entire district!"
"We reinforce it with interlocking steel bands," Yue Ying fired back, her mind moving faster than the scribes could write. "And we install triple redundancy pressure release valves. Father, the torque on the drive pins for wheels this large, can the southern iron handle the sheer rotational force?"
Huang Chengyan, coughing into a rag but refusing to leave the foundry floor, nodded grimly. "We fold the steel. We fold it twenty times over until it is as dense as a master swordsman's blade. It will hold, my daughter. The beast will not break its own legs."
Together, they forged the massive iron chassis, a colossal, terrifying skeleton of dark metal that looked like the ribcage of an ancient dragon. The sheer logistics of moving the parts required teams of draft horses inside the workshop itself. But inch by agonizing inch, day and night, the true iron beast was beginning to take shape.
Meanwhile, taking a brief, necessary step away from the intoxicating progress of the workshop, Zhuge Liang had quietly shifted his focus back to his duties as Minister of Personnel. Over the past few weeks, he had successfully collected, thoroughly vetted, and finally finalized the roster of the twenty thousand elite men requested by the Emperor. These were the most psychologically unbreakable and deeply loyal veterans of the Hengyuan central army.
He promptly reported this monumental gathering to Lie Fan in the quiet of the imperial study. Hearing that his new army was ready, Lie Fan did not hesitate. He stripped off his heavily embroidered imperial robes, donning the dark, practical leather armor of a cavalry commander. Under the cover of a moonless night, the Emperor and Zhuge Liang rode out in absolute secret, flanked by a tye full group of Yellow Ghost Bodyguards, toward a highly fortified, isolated valley located deep in the mountainous outskirts of Xiapi.
This remote location had been specially prepared and hermetically sealed off from the rest of the empire. It was surrounded by steep, impassable cliffs and heavily patrolled by Oriole Agents who had strict orders to execute anyone attempting to enter or leave without imperial authorization. This was the crucible where the new era of warfare would be forged.
When Lie Fan rode into the sprawling, torch lit camp, twenty thousand men were already standing in perfect, rigid formation. The silence in the valley was absolute, save for the crackling of the torches and the wind howling through the peaks. They were the absolute best of the Black Dragon's legions, and they stood at absolute attention as their Emperor dismounted and walked to the edge of a raised wooden platform.
Standing before the massive, disciplined sea of handpicked men, Lie Fan did not offer them empty platitudes. He delivered a deeply rousing, incredibly powerful speech that resonated in the chest of every soldier present.
"You look around, and you see no banners of your old regiments," Lie Fan's voice boomed across the silent valley, echoing off the stone walls. "You see no familiar barracks. You have been brought to the edge of the world, in the dead of night, because the world as you know it is about to end!"
He paced the edge of the platform, his eyes locking with the hardened veterans in the front ranks.
"What you are about to learn here is a secret that could shatter dynasties. It is a power stolen from the gods of thunder themselves. Because of this, you are no longer just soldiers of the army. You are the hidden dagger of my empire. You will be permanently staying confined within this heavily guarded camp for the next several months. You will be completely, entirely cut off from the outside world. No letters home. No tavern leaves. You will eat, sleep, and bleed in this valley until you have mastered a terrifying new top secret weapon that will permanently change the face of the earth!"
Lie Fan slammed his fist against his breastplate, the sharp sound ringing out like a gunshot.
"I have chosen you because your loyalty is absolute. I have chosen you because you do not flinch in the face of death. Will you bear this heavy, silent burden for your Emperor? Will you forge yourselves into the thunder of the Hengyuan Dynasty?!"
Hearing their Emperor's absolute trust, and feeling the immense, intoxicating weight of history placed directly upon their shoulders, the twenty thousand soldiers could not contain themselves. They let out a huge, deafening roar that shook the very clouds above the valley. They slammed their fists against their chests in unison, passionately, fanatically shouting, "Long live Your Majesty! Long live the Hengyuan Dynasty!"
The very next morning, the brutal, explosive reality of their new purpose began.
The soldiers were divided into companies and marched to the firing ranges, where heavy wooden crates were finally pried open. The men looked in confusion at the sleek, long barreled flintlocks and the heavy, bell mouthed blunderbusses handed to them. They were weapons made of wood and iron, possessing no blades, no strings, and no obvious mechanism of death.
Under the strict supervision of Liu Ye's master gunsmiths, the men were taught to bite the paper cartridges, pour the black powder down the smoothbore barrels, pack the heavy lead balls, and ram them home with the iron rods. It was a clumsy, confusing process for men who had spent their entire lives swinging swords and drawing bowstrings.
Then, the order to fire was given.
The front rank raised their flintlocks, leveling them at a line of thick, steel-plated armor dummies positioned fifty paces away.
"Fire!"
The resulting volley was a world-shattering event. The deafening thunder of a thousand flintlocks discharging simultaneously physically shook the ground. A massive, blinding cloud of thick, white, sulfurous smoke instantly engulfed the firing line.
When the wind finally cleared the smoke, the veteran warriors gasped in sheer, unadulterated awe. The heavy steel armor dummies, which would have easily deflected the heaviest crossbow bolts, were completely shredded. They were punctured with massive, jagged holes, their wooden frames splintered into matchsticks by the sheer, armor piercing kinetic power of the lead balls.
The blunderbuss units fired next at close range targets. The spread of heavy iron shrapnel completely obliterated the target zone, effectively turning a ten pace wide area into a localized meat grinder. The soldiers looked at the smoking iron tubes in their hands with wide, terrified, and reverent eyes. They were holding the apocalypse.
Lie Fan did not just watch this revelation from the comfort of a shaded pavilion. He actively oversaw the rigorous training alongside Zhuge Liang and Liu Ye, who were deeply involved in observing the weapon's durability, noting how the barrels heated and how the flint mechanisms held up after repeated use.
Lie Fan himself personally stepped down from the platform, his boots sinking into the cold mud and dirt of the firing line. He walked among the ranks, taking a flintlock from a trembling soldier's hands.
"Do not fear the recoil," Lie Fan instructed, his voice calm and steady as he demonstrated. He smoothly bit a cartridge, primed the pan, and rammed the ball with practiced, modern efficiency. He brought the stock tight to his shoulder, leveled the barrel, and fired, the sharp crack echoing down the line as he blew the head off a target. "It kicks like a mule, but it bites like a dragon. You must master the steps until they are carved into your muscle memory. If you panic and double load your powder, the barrel will burst and take your hands with it."
______________________________
Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 36 (203 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 1,010 (+20)
VIT: 659 (+20)
AGI: 653 (+10)
INT: 691
CHR: 98
WIS: 569
WILL: 436
ATR Points: 0