Starting with ten elixirs of immortality, I led the First Emperor to rebel against the Qin Dynasty.

"Master...Master, something terrible has happened!"

"What a hasty and disorderly manner!" Chunyu Yue scolded irritably, still in a bad mood.

The servant trembled with fright and stammered, "The...the Left Prime Minister's residence has sent someone! They say...they've come on the orders of His Majesty and Prime Minister Li to deliver...to Mr. Kong Fu with gifts!"

"What?"

Chunyu Yue and Shusun Tong were both taken aback.

Did Li Si send someone to deliver gifts?

A weasel offering New Year's greetings to a chicken—it has no good intentions!

Kong Fu, who was going berserk, stopped, panting heavily, staring intently at the servant with wary eyes.

"He said... what gift did he give?" Chunyu Yue asked in a deep voice.

"It's...it's a painting!" the servant replied in a trembling voice. "The messenger said it was prepared personally by Prime Minister Li for Mr. Kong Fu, in the hope that he will recover soon..."

"painting?"

The three exchanged a glance, a sense of foreboding rising in their hearts.

"Let him in!" Kong Fu said through gritted teeth.

Soon, two servants dressed in the attire of the Left Prime Minister's residence carried in a huge easel covered with a black cloth.

The middle-aged man who appeared to be in charge bowed to Kong Fu and the others with a forced smile.

"By order of His Majesty and my Prime Minister, I have come to visit Mr. Kong Fu. My Prime Minister was very concerned when he heard that you were ill, and specially had the 'Confucius Manifestation' painting, which was displayed in the palace today, framed and presented to you."

"I hope that you can hang this painting above your bedside and look at it day and night, so that you can feel the teachings of the sage. This will surely be of great benefit to your condition."

After saying that, he waved to the two people behind him.

"Come, unveil the sacred image for Mr. Kong Fu!"

The two men responded, stepped forward, and suddenly ripped off the black cloth!

"boom!"

Kong Fu felt a sudden darkness before his eyes.

It felt as if Confucius, a figure nine feet tall with bulging muscles, the character "仁" (ren, meaning benevolence) tattooed on his chest, the characters "德才" (de, meaning virtue and talent) engraved on his back, and holding a long sword dripping with blood, was staring at him with an incomparably domineering gaze.

"ah--!"

Kong Fu, who had just woken up, let out a shrill scream before falling straight backward, his limbs convulsing, foaming at the mouth, and losing consciousness.

"Li-Si!"

Chunyu Yue and Shusun Tong also let out desperate roars.

This is outrageous! They're trying to drive someone to their death!

The steward of the Prime Minister's residence looked at the chaotic scene before him, but still wore that fake smile on his face.

"It seems Mr. Kong Fu is quite excited to see the sacred image. In that case, we will not disturb your rest any longer. Farewell."

After saying that, he turned and left with his men, leaving behind a mess in the room.

It was unclear how much time had passed before the commotion at the mansion gradually subsided.

An old doctor was summoned, and after acupuncture and medication, he finally pulled Kong Fu back from the brink of death.

Kong Fu slowly woke up, his eyes vacant and devoid of any spirit, as if he had aged twenty years in an instant.

Chunyu Yue and Shusun Tong stood by, their hearts filled with despair.

Suddenly, Kong Fu sat up, flames reigniting in his eyes, and roared.

"Pen! Ink! Carrier pigeon!"

"I will write a letter! I will tell all the Confucian scholars in the world! If Li Si is not removed, the country will never have peace! Confucianism will not survive!"

"Have them all come to Xianyang as quickly as possible!"

"I will show Ying Zheng the consequences of opposing all Confucian scholars!"

Soon, more than a dozen carrier pigeons took off from Chunyu Yue's residence and flew to all corners of the Qin Dynasty.

On the other side, Zhao Huan had just come out of the Gewu Academy and was heading towards Zhao Family Village.

My mind was still replaying what had just happened at the Gewu Institute.

With his largely ineffective guidance and the efforts of the artisans, the development of gunpowder made groundbreaking progress.

Led by Lu Sheng, the alchemists quickly figured out the most stable gunpowder formula by relying on their years of experience in alchemy. Meanwhile, the Mo family led by Mo Yuan and the Gongshu family led by Gongshu Che demonstrated amazing creativity, with all sorts of experimental equipment emerging one after another.

With the collaboration of the three parties, the first batch of qualified gunpowder has been successfully developed. It is extremely powerful, and the boulders it blasted apart left everyone dumbfounded.

However, the subsequent development of muskets and cannons encountered a bottleneck.

The problem lies in the material.

The Qin Dynasty still primarily used bronze, which, while sturdy, lacked sufficient toughness and heat resistance. Gun barrels and cannons cast in bronze simply could not withstand the immense chamber pressure from the instantaneous explosion of gunpowder; after several experiments, they all exploded, nearly causing fatalities.

Zhao Huan knew that this was a limitation of the times. Without steel, and especially without high-quality steel, trying to make decent firearms was nothing short of a pipe dream.

Iron smelting requires iron ore and a complete set of mature smelting techniques. He currently possesses the theory of high-quality steel but lacks iron ore; even a skilled cook cannot make a meal without ingredients.

You can't exactly tell your father, "Father, we can't build guns and cannons because we lack iron ore. Why don't you talk to the First Emperor and ask him to grant us a mine?"

Isn't that nonsense?

Left with no other choice, Zhao Huan had to suspend the development of firearms and cannons and instead proposed a new project with lower technological requirements—the development of "homemade bombs".

The principle behind this is much simpler.

To put it simply, it was a can filled with gunpowder, mixed with a large amount of gravel and iron scraps, and finally fitted with a fuse.

It was lit and thrown out by hand.

Although it was a bit primitive and couldn't compare to the hand grenades of later generations, it was definitely a deadly weapon on the battlefield in this era of cold weapons.

Imagine two armies facing off, with one side throwing hundreds of "bomb packs" at the other, which explode in the enemy's ranks, sending flames soaring into the sky and scattering shards of metal. That scene would definitely make the enemy on the other side question their existence.

Mo Yuan and Gongshu Che, these two old rivals, clashed again over this new project.

Mo Yuan believed that using pottery jars as the outer shell was the best option, as the materials were readily available and inexpensive, and the shards produced when broken could also cause injury.

Gongshu Che insisted that a sturdy wooden box with ingeniously designed slots inside should be used to secure the caltrops and steel needles, thus maximizing its lethality.

The two argued fiercely in front of Zhao Huan for a long time, neither able to convince the other, and finally they made a bet.

Whoever develops the most powerful, stable, and lowest-cost homemade bomb first will win.

Zhao Huan was honored to be brought in by the two men to serve as the witness and final referee of this bet.

Watching the craftsmen, who seemed to be on steroids, split into two groups and began studying the pottery jars and wooden boxes with great enthusiasm, Zhao Huan was happy to have some peace and quiet.

"Alas, the revolution is not yet successful, comrades must continue to strive," Zhao Huan sighed.

"Guns and cannons are king; bombs are just a supplement. We absolutely have to find a way to get iron ore later. If all else fails, we'll have Dad find someone to look in the mountains; maybe we'll get lucky and stumble upon an open-pit mine?"

Just then, he suddenly saw a person lying on the side of the road.

He was wearing a tattered Taoist robe, was so thin he was skin and bones, had chapped lips, and closed eyes; he looked like he had fainted from hunger.