Making you a son-in-law is not about making you conquer the world.

The blacksmith at the armory roughly guessed the relationship between Jiang Yunying and Lin Ping. Based on the principle of giving face to the Buddha even if you don't care about the monk, he patted his chest and said, "As long as the son-in-law can tell me, I can make it."

Lin Ping rolled his eyes at the other person and thought to himself: Boss Ping wants a heavy machine gun, you go and build it...

The other person was still looking at Lin Ping with a grin, naturally unaware of what he was thinking.

Without saying a word, Lin Ping hurriedly instructed Li Mingxuan to find Xuan paper and charcoal, and with a stroke of his brush, a simple drawing resembling a sketch appeared.

Why is it called a simplified drawing? Because the shape is indeed simple. Why is it called a sketch? Because Lin Ping drew many strokes on those crooked lines, and it is still clear.

"Is this a weapon?"

Hua the blacksmith stared blankly at the Xuan paper, while glancing at Lin Ping with disdain, as if unsure whether he was just making fun of him.

Lin Ping nodded firmly, and at the same time drew a few more simpler shapes, but in the eyes of the blacksmith, they were still strange.

The blacksmith had originally thought this was a huge task that would require burning the midnight oil, but now it seemed that it was just as simple as striking a few times with a small hammer.

Of course, Lin Ping needed a lot, especially the first picture, which required a full twenty copies. As a result, the blacksmith Hua would also need the help of two apprentices.

"Make sure it is delivered to the drill ground before noon tomorrow."

After speaking, Lin Ping strode away from the armory, naturally because he hadn't found a suitable weapon.

For him, the most suitable weapon was a pistol, but there was no pistol at all. As a spendthrift, he couldn't possibly carry around an unsuitable sword.

Jiang Yunying regretted bringing him to the armory herself; it was clearly an attempt to embarrass the city lord's mansion.

"My lord, where is your weapon?"

Jiang Yunying kept her head turned and maintained a certain distance from Lin Ping.

"Oh... it's part of my body, it's a good gun!"

Lin Ping said confidently.

Although Jiang Yunying hadn't had much contact with Lin Ping, she knew a little about her husband; he would definitely die if he didn't drive for a day.

Her flushed face felt hot in the setting sun as she lowered her head and said, "I think it's a silver needle..."

Granny Zhang was Jiang Yunying's wet nurse, essentially a second mother to her, so she would always be open and honest about anything concerning Lin Ping.

Therefore, words like "a few snaps of the fingers" and "needle pricks" had already reached Jiang Yunying's ears.

She didn't care about that, since she would never consummate her marriage with Lin Ping anyway.

Upon hearing this, Lin Ping blushed and muttered to himself, "My wife, you're not so innocent anymore!"

He wanted to say: "Try it and see."

They forcefully held it back; if the silver needle were broken, it would be no laughing matter.

That night, Lin Ping and Jiang Yunying both slept in the military camp. Their tents were close together, and they could even hear each other's heavy breathing.

Yes, it was Lin Ping's panting.

With such a beautiful woman by his side, Lin Ping couldn't help but feel breathless. As for the competition the next day, it didn't matter much, since he didn't need to participate himself.

Before dawn, morning exercises had already begun in the military camp, but Lin Ping was still indulging in erotic fantasies, drool constantly dripping from the corners of his mouth.

It wasn't until dawn that Lin Ping stretched and walked out of the tent, yawning repeatedly in front of the soldiers, muttering to himself, "The sleeping conditions here are terrible. I need to request a large bed, a quilt, and a maidservant..."

The group glared at Lin Ping, wishing they could disappear into the ground. How could they have been so foolish as to believe him? Now they had nowhere to hide their burning faces.

"So early?"

Lin Ping feigned shock and asked lazily, still looking dejected, "Did you all sleep well? Want to take a beauty nap? No, no, I mean a second nap!"

For a handsome man like Lin Ping, another nap is a beauty sleep; for these rough men, it's just a second sleep, and they need to go back to sleep to rejuvenate.

"Can we begin training?"

Several people asked impatiently.

Seeing the other soldiers training, the group was quite envious. They wanted to show off a bit to me, but they were afraid that Lin Ping would shout that he wanted to surrender, so they just stared at him longingly.

"No rush, no rush, let's talk about it after breakfast."

As Lin Ping spoke, he walked towards the kitchen, muttering to himself, "Not eating enthusiastically, there's something wrong with his brain."

"Don't pull me, I can't take it anymore, I won't feel right until I beat this guy up."

The most burly soldier said angrily.

The others nodded in agreement, saying, "Yes, go ahead, go beat him up and vent our anger."

The first man blushed and muttered to himself, "What a bunch of treacherous bastards! I was just bragging..."

Lin Ping is the son-in-law of the city lord's mansion and now their superior. If they beat him, it won't be as simple as getting a whipped whip; they might get a scalpel.

The man scratched his head, revealing two large white teeth on his dark face, and chuckled, "That's right, if you're not enthusiastic about eating, you're out of your mind. I'm a little hungry too..."

"Xu..."

The others extended their disdainful middle fingers, wishing they could all poke him to pieces. What's so great about being awesome? We have eighteen middle fingers!

After breakfast, the group stared intently at Lin Ping, eagerly anticipating a sweat-inducing training session.

"Everyone obeys the order!"

Lin Ping suddenly straightened his chest, raised his head, and shouted loudly.

The ten men stood at attention as if by reflex, their upright bodies like vigorous ancient pine trees, which really startled Lin Ping.

"As the saying goes, sharpening your axe won't delay your woodcutting work. Go and sharpen your spear and saber until they're gleaming, so they can be used as mirrors!"

Lin Ping spoke in a very serious tone.

All ten men collapsed to the ground like deflated balloons, feeling as if a million mud horses were galloping through their minds.

Is he a qualified general?

If he were to lead this private army of ten thousand, he would likely die on the way to fight the enemy.

There's no other way; we have to carry out the general's orders.

All they could do was find a whetstone and slowly polish their tools.

Although they disagreed with Lin Ping's order, they were meticulous in sharpening the weapons.

In other words, these weapons are their sworn brothers who have risked their lives together. Even if Lin Ping didn't say anything, he would polish them every now and then, and they absolutely couldn't be allowed to become rusty.

About an hour later, the group put away the whetstone, believing they had met the requirements. Lin Ping picked up a saber, examined it carefully, and finally shook his head, screaming, "My God!"

The group broke out in a cold sweat, thinking Lin Ping was dissatisfied, but then they heard him continue, "Acne, I have acne on my face, and even my pores have gotten bigger!"

The group immediately knelt down, unable to think of any words to describe Lin Ping, fearing they might offend those derogatory terms.

Lin Ping didn't disgustingly apply a face mask or find a straw hat to cover his face and protect himself from the sun. Instead, he carefully inspected all the weapons before looking up at the blazing sun overhead.

"kindness……"

Lin Ping nodded in satisfaction.

"It's finally about to begin!" The group rubbed their hands together, eager to get ready to work up a good sweat.

"The weather is nice!"

Lin Ping said casually, as if he had forgotten about the competition.

The city of Jiangcheng has been experiencing continuous rain these past few days, so the clearing of the sky is indeed a good thing, but what direct relationship does this have with the competition?

At the same time, Pang Xingji impatiently walked up to Lin Ping and asked contemptuously, "When will our competition begin?"