Sky Curtain: My Great Qin must have an aircraft carrier!

On the sky, the image of musketeers firing in volleys faded, and a massive steel behemoth billowing thick smoke roared in.

The black locomotive spewed white smoke as it carried dozens of carriages across the fields with a rumble.

Before discussing the development of firearms, we must first talk about something else—the Industrial Revolution.

The Industrial Revolution revolutionized productivity; the output of a single steam engine was equivalent to that of hundreds of fine horses.

The explosion in productivity spurred population growth and the emergence of various new technologies.

Inside the enormous factory, gears meshed and steam rose.

With each rise and fall of the forging hammer, the red-hot steel billet is pressed into gun barrels, cannon barrels, and railway tracks.

On the assembly line, workers insert parts into slots, and the finished products slide away along the conveyor belt.

This neat and orderly scene amazed everyone in the world.

However, Li Shimin frowned.

He stared at the sky for a long time, then turned to Fang Xuanling and asked, "Fuji, have you noticed something?"

Fang Xuanling looked up: "Your Majesty, please speak."

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"From the Gulf War to now, what do these major changes have to do with China?"

Li Shimin pointed to the sky and said, "The Gulf War was about the United States, and now this Industrial Revolution is being stirred up by the same group of Westerners."

"What is the Emperor of Xia doing? He can't just say he didn't see it, can he?"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the hall was stunned.

Yes, firearms were invented in the Song Dynasty, but how come it was all outsiders who truly mastered them?

Du Ruhui thought for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Could it be... that the Xia Kingdom was no longer around at that time?"

"impossible."

Li Shimin shook his head. "As Tianmu mentioned before, from Qin Shi Huang to the end of the Qing Dynasty, more than two thousand years have passed, and the Industrial Revolution should have occurred around the same time."

"That's strange."

Changsun Wuji couldn't understand it either, "Why would our great Celestial Empire allow such wondrous skills and ingenuity to be preempted by barbarians?"

Li Shimin didn't speak again, but just stared at the busy workers on the sky.

Those people, dressed in coarse cloth and covered in grease, were sweating profusely beside the machine.

They were not nobles, nor officials, but ordinary people.

A thought flashed through Li Shimin's mind.

Were all these inventions from the private sector?

So Westerners value this point?

As he recalled the situation in the Tang Dynasty, the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.

What would happen if some peasant actually invented a steam engine and built a train that could travel a thousand miles a day?

The Ministry of Works would take away the blueprints, claiming they were for the country's benefit.

The powerful families would send people to their door, either to bribe them or to threaten them.

Under such circumstances, which ordinary person would dare to delve into such studies? Who would dare to flaunt their wealth?

Li Shimin became increasingly uncomfortable, picked up his teacup and took a sip; the tea was cold.

The Industrial Revolution brought smokeless gunpowder, railway transportation, and machine guns, fundamentally changing the power of firearms.

The most important of these is smokeless gunpowder.

In 1884, French chemist Paul Vieille invented the first practical smokeless gunpowder. This was a true revolution in the history of firearms, more important than any previous improvement.

Smokeless gunpowder significantly increased energy density, extending bullet range to over 800 meters, making machine guns true grim reapers.

Da da da!

The ear-piercing explosion pierced the sky, making everyone's eardrums ache.

In the painting, rows of strangely shaped iron lumps are placed on the trenches, their gun barrels spitting out blinding tongues of fire.

Hundreds of meters away, people fell like wheat, their blood pooling into streams.

The steel behemoth roared and charged forward, shells exploding in the crowd, and severed limbs flying into the air.

With the Gulf War as a precedent, most people didn't lose their composure; instead, they started commenting.

In a teahouse in Bianjing (Kaifeng).

The pedantic scholar in a long gown waved his folding fan, his face full of disdain: "What use is such a deadly weapon? It does nothing to benefit the people's livelihood; it only makes the killing more frequent."

"In my opinion, these firearms and cannons must not be allowed to remain in the world!"

The man in gray beside him sneered, "Sir, you make it sound so easy. What if someone used this thing to hit you? What would you do then?"

The pedantic scholar retorted, "So what if they attack? At worst, we'll just change the emperor to sit on the throne."

"We ordinary people should just farm and study. What does it matter to us who becomes emperor?"

"Oh!"

The man seemed to have heard the funniest joke, his voice rising several decibels, "Look closely, those using these iron contraptions on the sky are all barbarians!"

"Have you forgotten the Five Barbarian Invasions? Have you forgotten the An Lushan Rebellion?"

"You think they'll treat you like a human being if you surrender? Then we'll just be two-legged sheep!"

Upon hearing the words "two-legged sheep," the pedantic scholar's face changed drastically, and he dropped his folding fan to the ground.

The surrounding crowd quieted down, their faces showing lingering fear.

Yes, those who are not of our kind will surely have different hearts.

If barbarians were to obtain such a divine artifact, what fate awaited these unarmed people besides slaughter?

After the Industrial Revolution, war was no longer a contest of hand-to-hand combat with bayonets, but a comprehensive confrontation of industrial capacity, technological sophistication, and national will.

The defining characteristics of this period were the two World Wars, which brought profound suffering to the entire world.

The city was reduced to ruins by bombing, tens of millions of civilians were killed or injured, and countless people were displaced by the war.

In the scene, the once bustling city is now nothing but ruins.

The sky was shrouded in smoke, obscuring the sun.

The long line of refugees trudged along the muddy road, stretching as far as the eye could see.

They pushed wheelbarrows, carried bundles, and helped the elderly and children as they struggled along the muddy road.

The cries of children, the sobs of women, and the coughs of the elderly intertwined to create a despairing lament.

Inside Wuling City, Liu Bei stood outside the temporary camp, looking up at the sky.

Two lines of tears silently slid down that weathered old face.

This scene was not only distressing, but it also reminded him of Dangyang and the people of Xinye who had followed him south.

The weapons changed, from swords to muskets, and from muskets to iron birds and bombs.

But those who flee always have the same expression.

"Big brother..."

Seeing his elder brother in this state, Zhang Fei was so anxious he was scratching his head in frustration.

His eyes were wide open, and he was desperately trying to wink at Zhuge Liang, his eyebrows almost reaching his temples.

Zhuge Liang was so amused that he almost burst out laughing. He waved his hand to signal Zhang Fei not to rush, put down the bamboo slips, and stood up.

"My lord is benevolent and righteous; I, Liang, am truly inferior."

"The defeat at Dangyang was not a failure in battle, but rather a consequence of our lord's reluctance to abandon the people. Among the warlords vying for supremacy in the Central Plains, how many truly care about the lives of the common people?"

Liu Bei shook his head: "What's the use of doing it? In the end, it will only harm them."

Zhuge Liang put away his feather fan and looked directly into Liu Bei's eyes: "Great benevolence is not benevolence, great kindness is not charity."

"If my lord truly wishes to spare the people from the suffering of war, the only way is to end this chaotic world as soon as possible."

"Jingzhou is a place of constant warfare. If our lord can take Western Shu as a base, we can advance to conquer the world or retreat to maintain peace in this region."

"Only then can the people truly live in peace and prosperity."

Liu Bei remained silent; he had carried the words "benevolence and righteousness" with him for decades.

But the people of the world suffer so much; can this still be considered benevolent and righteous?

True benevolence and righteousness lie in benefiting all people!

Liu Bei clenched his fists tightly, and the hesitation in his heart quietly faded away.

"The strategist is absolutely right, I understand."

"The affairs of Yizhou shall be entirely arranged by the military advisor; we should make preparations as soon as possible!"

Zhuge Liang bowed slightly and retreated into his tent.

Zhang Fei followed behind, and only after they had walked a distance did he lean over and whisper, "Strategist, has Brother come to his senses?"

Zhuge Liang shook his fan: "Yide, what do you think?"

Zhang Fei grinned: "I think Liu Zhang is incompetent and foolish; you're definitely better than him, brother!"

Zhuge Liang glanced at him sideways: "Enough with the coarse language. Mr. Pang Tong is staying in the next tent."

"Hehe." Zhang Fei stuck out his tongue, shrank his neck, and walked away.

-

Liu Bei remained standing outside the tent, his gaze fixed on the sky.

A bronze sword could only kill one person, then a repeating crossbow could kill ten, and finally, with the firearms and cannons on the sky, a single volley could take hundreds or thousands of lives.

The efficiency of killing continues to increase, and the scope of destruction continues to expand.

Will there ever be a day when peace truly arrives in this world?

The voice from the sky rang out again, as if in response to his question.

The iteration of weapons has pushed the intensity of warfare to its limits.

Towards the end of World War II, fanatical militarists still attempted to resist to the bitter end, even shouting the slogan "One hundred million die for the Emperor," wanting to drag the entire country down with them.

In such a desperate situation, conventional weapons are no longer able to contain this madness.

Until 1945