Crown Prince of the Empire, I quit!

A horn blasted! Ten fire dragon boxes unleashed a volley, their iron sand slamming into the cowhide-wrapped wooden shield a hundred paces away like water. After a dull thud, only pockmarks remained on the shield—as expected, they hadn't penetrated.

The prince's face paled slightly as he watched his father pick up an unexploded fire dragon box, pull out the fuse, and examine it carefully. "The gunpowder has gotten damp. The saltpeter tribute from Lingnan should be wrapped in tung oil paper." He suddenly flicked a gold coin into the air, and a flash of black light flashed from his sleeve—a palm-sized wrist crossbow! Amidst the clanging of metal, the gold coin was pierced through the bull's eye by the crossbow bolt.

"A ruler must understand not only the overall military and national situation, but also the sharpness of the swords in the hands of his soldiers." Qin Ming unhooked his wrist crossbow and tossed it to the prince. "The Eastern Palace Guards will lead the Yuelun Guards to guard Yumen Pass. You will accompany them. Bring three hundred Fire Dragon Boxes and ask Meng Zhi for the battlefield measurement documents."

The sandstorms beyond the Great Wall were ten times more ferocious than those in Chang'an. Standing at the battlements of Yumen Pass, the Crown Prince watched the Black Armor Army clash with the Turkic cavalry in the Gobi Desert. The improved Fire Dragon Box proved effective in urban combat, but due to its limited range, it was outmatched by cavalry bows in open areas. He drew a blueprint for a new mechanism overnight and dispatched it to the Chief of Works.

Late in the night of the seventh day, the incident unfolded. Turkic warriors raided the forage camp, and the crown prince personally led his guards to meet the enemy. Amidst the scuffle, a rocket blasted towards the gunpowder cart. Without a second thought, the young man dove to cover the barrel. After the explosion, he emerged from the blaze, his face charred, his palm still clutching the deformed fire dragon box.

The victory and the details of the injuries were relayed back to Chang'an. Qin Ming wrote "Got it" on the military newspaper, but that night he personally went to the Imperial Ancestral Temple and stood in silence before the tablets of his ancestors until dawn.

When the Crown Prince returned to the capital, he brought back the "Essentials of Firearms and Formation Warfare" stamped with Meng Zhi's seal, along with a heavy wooden box. "Father," he said, opening the box's lid to reveal hundreds of Turkic arrowheads, "I have examined them, and the ironwork used in these arrowheads... is comparable to that of the smelting techniques used in the Ministry of Works' Military Equipment Bureau."

The candlelight in the warm room flickered. Qin Ming picked up an arrowhead and saw a faint wolf-head pattern engraved on the shaft—the mark of the Khitan nobility. "What a way to drive the wolf out and swallow the tiger." He sneered, turning and unfolding a map of the Western Regions. "Heng'er, do you know why I want you to personally inspect the firearms?"

The young man looked at the crisscrossing trade routes and beacon towers on the map.

"Because those who will sit before this map in the future," Zhu Bi emphasized the Persian Gulf, "must understand one thing: the Fire Dragon Box can break a shield because it understands the shield's toughness. The same is true for governing a country—to pacify the world, one must first understand it."

As dusk seeped through the window lattices, the newly appointed Minister of War requested an audience. Qin Ming ordered the Crown Prince to draft a reply while he strolled outside the palace. The clanking of iron horses beneath the eaves reminded him of his first military experience twenty years ago, when the late Emperor had stood in the corridor like this, watching him clumsily strategize on a sand table.

Now, it is his turn to be the one making the deduction.

Torrential rain pounded against the glazed tiles of the Taiji Hall like a thousand iron balls rolling by. Qin Ming, however, ordered the candles removed, placing only a bronze goose and fish lantern on either side of the imperial desk. A dim light enveloped the Western Regions sand table, where Crown Prince Qin Heng was moving the dominoes representing the Tibetan cavalry toward Khotan.

"According to the Ministry of War's proposal, the Anxi Army should be dispatched to provide assistance." The young man's fingertips hovered over the Shule River. "But I think we can have the King of Khotan pretend to surrender to the Tibetans. Then, when the Tibetan army crosses the border..." He suddenly pushed the domino into the river, "and attack them halfway across."

Lightning flashed, reflecting Qin Ming's approval in his eyes: "Reason?"

"The Tibetan king has just passed away, and his sons are vying for the throne. Sending troops at this time must be a move by the pro-war faction to assert its authority." The prince took the rain bell, caught the water from the eaves, and filled the Shule River on the sand table. "If we allow them a small victory, the pro-war faction will become even more emboldened. Then the internal strife will intensify, and I can reap the benefits."

Before he could finish his words, the palace door suddenly burst open. Ying Qi knelt, drenched in sweat, "Your Majesty! We just intercepted a Tibetan carrier pigeon message. The King of Khotan has been secretly communicating with the Tibetans. The so-called request for assistance is actually a trap to lure our army into a trap!"

The prince abruptly stood up, his sleeves whipping the sand table over. Water flowed across the thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions, and the Khotan domino stood out against the mud.

"What about now?" Qin Ming's voice was as calm as an ancient well.

The young man stared at the scattered sand table. Suddenly, he grabbed the black iron command arrow representing the Anxi Army and thrust it fiercely into the heart of Tubo. "Turn the tables! Publicly issue a manifesto denouncing Khotan for rebellion, while secretly ordering Meng Zhi to lead light cavalry to attack Luoshui directly—Tubo is in internal turmoil and will have no time to look east!"

Amidst the sound of rain, Qin Ming clapped his hands and laughed. He pushed open a secret compartment and pulled out a roll of mottled sheepskin—it turned out to be a copy of the secret letters between the King of Khotan and Tubo!

"Three days ago, the shadow guards infiltrated the palace of the King of Khotan." He unfolded the parchment scroll and circled the hidden symbol of the Khotanese king's seal with a red brush. "I'm waiting for you to see through this risky move."

Thunder rolled through the palace, and the prince stared at his father in amazement. It turned out that in this rainstorm, he had always been part of the chess game.

"Heng'er," Qin Ming handed over a cup of warm wine, "A king should be like this rainy night. You can see the raindrops, but you can't predict where each drop will fall. What you can do is prepare a raincoat in advance."

At dawn the next day, the rain stopped and the clouds dispersed. An urgent message arrived from the Western Regions, traveling eight hundred miles a day: Meng Zhi's light cavalry had crossed the glaciers and successfully launched a surprise attack on Luoshui. Civil strife broke out in Tubo, and the King of Khotan was bound by nobles and taken to the Anxi Protectorate.

When the victory report reached Beijing, the Crown Prince was observing the test explosion of a "sky-shaking bomb" at the Ministry of Works. Amidst the flames, he suddenly turned to the Chief Engineer, "Could the explosive core be modified to have a delayed effect? ​​That way, we could bury it in the enemy's path..."

Qin Ming stood in the distant corridor, listening to the young man and the craftsman argue about the gunpowder ratio, his lips curled slightly. The eunuch presented the Tibetans with a letter requesting peace, but he didn't even bother to look at it. "Tell the Lifanyuan that the terms of the peace talks—let Heng'er decide."

As dusk stained the palace walls red, father and son ascended the Lingyan Pavilion. The beacon fires of the western frontier had temporarily died down, and the southeastern sea maps once again covered the desk.

"Next," Qin Ming pointed his finger towards Fusang Country, "it's time to train the navy."

The wind from the Hexi Corridor, swirling with sand, whipped the newly minted bronze plaque inscribed "Anxi Grand Protectorate." Crown Prince Qin Heng reined in his horse and stood beside the ruins of a beacon tower, watching the setting sun cast long, slender shadows across the river. His trip was ostensibly to inspect the tea-horse trade, but in reality, it was to verify a bizarre military report: within three months, seven Sogdian caravans on the Western Region trade route had been robbed. Turkic arrows were found at the scene, but the saltpeter in their cargo had mysteriously disappeared.

"Your Highness," the Maritime Customs official presented the account books, "the caravans that were robbed were all carrying saltpeter purchased by the Ministry of Works from Fujian Province. Even more surprising, last month, a Tibetan envoy used Persian gold coins to purchase 300 kilograms of saltpeter from the government warehouse."

The young man's hand, flipping through the account pages, suddenly paused—there were no large mineral veins in Tubo. He recalled the "Mineral Resources Map of the Four Seas" in his father's study, where the Tubo region was marked in red ink as "Lack of Saltpeter."

That night, the crown prince secretly ordered the governor of Hexi to block the trade route, and he himself disguised himself as a Tocharian merchant and infiltrated the camel caravan. At dusk on the seventh day, when the camel bells reached the old course of the Kongque River, the bandits appeared from behind the sand dunes.