Chapter 10: Go Big or Go Home!

In the Great Ming Dynasty, on his way to the Eastern Palace, the Old Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang caught sight of the rice paddies displayed on the celestial screen, listening to the confident and warm words emanating from above. He could not help but pause, standing rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed upward. Zhu Biao was similarly struck.

"Is it truly possible... for everyone in this world to become as dragons, and for no one to ever die of hunger again?" Old Emperor Zhu murmured to the screen, his pupils contracting as he witnessed the overwhelming flood of comments appearing.

— "Grandpa Yuan, you did it... today, in China, no one goes hungry!"
— "Your single stalk of rice has fed the fourteen hundred million people of our China!"
— "Grandpa Yuan... we miss you..."
— "You kept us from hunger, kept us from being bullied... Grandpa, your dream of cooling off under the shade of the rice stalks has come true!"

Zhu Biao looked at the torrent of messages in shock and turned to Zhu Yuanzhang. "Father, can the person mentioned in these messages truly have achieved such a monumental feat?" To feed fourteen hundred million people with a single variety of rice—it was nothing short of a miracle.

Zhu Yuanzhang regained his composure, his eyes filled with awe and reverence. "I never imagined that future generations would possess such capable people, capable of freeing the world's people from the fear of starvation. If only... if only this person were in our Great Ming!"

In other eras, the common people watched the screen with shock, their hearts filled with a profound sense of envy. "Father, Mother... do you see? In the future... our descendants will be able to eat their fill... they will never starve again!"

"Never starve again... oh, the sorrow..." Countless people, remembering parents, siblings, and children who had perished from hunger, could no longer restrain themselves, falling to their knees in tears. Across countless dynasties, cries of sorrow arose.

Following the grief came a fierce yearning for life. It mattered not if they themselves could not eat their fill; they had to ensure their descendants lived in an era of prosperity. To achieve that, they had to survive, to ensure their bloodlines continued. They could not see the prosperity of the future China, so they pinned their hopes on those who would come after. They would let their descendants see the grandeur of the future China for them. Having suffered through generations of famine, they understood better than anyone how luxurious the simple act of having enough to eat truly was.

Across all planes of existence, emperors and generals reacted just like the Old Emperor, their faces etched with disbelief.

At that very moment, the images on the celestial screen shifted once more with startling suddenness.

"The day the Japanese invaders are wiped out is the day my son returns home!"

A few bold, crimson characters appeared on the screen. Countless brave warriors, facing the fierce artillery fire of the enemy and wielding what seemed like primitive weapons, charged toward the battlefield without a moment's hesitation.

"Comrades, the time has come for the Party and the people to test us!" The deafening cry resonated through the heavens, as if a declaration of war against the enemy and a desperate plea for victory.

Then, the impassioned sound of the bugle call pierced the sky like a thunderclap, instantly igniting the blood and passion of all who heard it. Inspired by the call, each soldier seemed imbued with infinite strength; their bloodlines awakened, burning hot like flames. The moment the charge began, victory or defeat ceased to matter; it was a matter of life and death. Whether I survive does not matter—I only need you to die!

They pressed forward, braving the enemy's torrential machine-gun fire. On the battlefield, blood sprayed like fountains, staining the earth red in a scene both tragic and heroic. One hero after another fell in the hail of bullets, yet their figures did not vanish; they became banners inspiring those who followed to keep moving forward.

"If the race is to survive, we must fight to the end!"

Under the celestial screen, the emperors of various dynasties watched the carnage, all of them stunned.

In the Great Qin, Qin Shi Huang watched in shock. He had never seen such a tragic yet fervent battle. The spirit of the soldiers, who viewed death as a homecoming, reminded him of the fierce armies of his own Great Qin. "Such warriors are truly the backbone of a nation!" he muttered, his eyes filled with respect.

His ministers stood by, faces pale with awe. Li Si bowed and said, "Your Majesty, though the scene is tragic, the courage and conviction of these soldiers are moving. If our Great Qin possessed such a spirit, no land would remain unconquered." Qin Shi Huang nodded slightly, his mind racing. He imagined the immense power his own armies might unleash if fueled by such a spirit.

The battle continued, the shouts of the soldiers seemingly piercing time and space to reach the ears of those in the Great Qin. Qin Shi Huang clenched his fists, as if he could feel the heat of their passion. He was also plagued by questions: what were those weapons he had never seen before? Why did those small "fire-pots" strike with such devastating silence, and those black lumps spitting fire wipe out entire rows at once?

The emperors of other planes were no different. In the Great Tang, Li Er stood up involuntarily as he watched the tragic battlefield and the strange firearms. "What... what manner of weapons are these!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. Fang Xuanling, standing nearby, was equally astonished. "Your Majesty, if the Great Tang possessed such weapons, we could surely strike terror into the four corners of the world."

Li Er frowned, his curiosity about the weapons mingled with confusion as to why the soldiers would charge so recklessly. "Why are they so desperate? What belief sustains them?" Li Er asked. Fang Xuanling pondered and replied, "Your Majesty, judging by their cries, it is for the nation and the people behind them, so that their descendants might live in a time of peace and prosperity."

Li Er nodded slightly, moved by the thought. On the screen, the soldiers continued to forge ahead through the hail of lead, new figures stepping forward to replace those who fell.

The screen continued to shift.

"I swear, I must create an atomic bomb that belongs to the Chinese people..."
"What the foreigners can do, we Chinese can do as well, and we will do it on a grand scale!"

Suddenly, a massive mushroom cloud appeared on the screen! Wherever the cloud touched, buildings were reduced to ruins. The heatwave sent dust billowing across the earth, and the light and heat were so blinding that people could not keep their eyes open!

People across all eras watched, their mouths agape, unable to utter a sound. This immense power shattered their worldview. The emperors of every dynasty felt their pupils contract to the limit, their eardrums aching from the roar of the explosion.

Everyone was stunned. They thought to themselves, *You tell me... this... this is a weapon? These are the legendary figures of your future? Are these gods descending to earth?* In their eyes, war was about numbers, weapons, generals, and commanders. But this... this power... no amount of strategy could withstand it!