Chapter 75: Both Hands Must Grasp, Both Hands Must Be Strong

They were all Zhang Jie; he could not disregard the life of the pirate Zhang Jie.

Let him risk himself to obtain the technological data.

“How is the production of gun barrels?”

Zhang Jie asked, stroking the barrel.

Talking about toxicity without dosage is bullying; talking about quality without production is also bullying.

At least for the current Zhang Jie, this was true—he wasn’t conducting high-precision research.

He was merely replicating a technology already developed long ago.

“Young Master, we’ve produced nearly a hundred barrels in these two months!”

The old steward said, thrilled.

A daily output of two barrels had already surpassed his expectations.

Taking the standard Song bow as an example, its manufacture follows the ancient “Six Materials” method—gan (bamboo or wood),

jiao (animal horn), jin (animal sinew), jiao (fish swim bladder or animal hide glue),

si (wrapping thread), and qi (protective lacquer).

The material selection alone takes years: the bow stave is mostly made from zhe wood or mulberry wood,

felled in winter to ensure dense grain;

ox horn must be selected after spring soaking to achieve flexibility;

ox sinew requires processing in midsummer to guarantee maximum elasticity.

After these materials are bonded with fish swim bladder glue,

they must undergo at least a year of natural drying and repeated tuning before becoming a fine bow.

But Zhang Jie’s “invented” gun requires only one barrel,

and with other components attached, even an apprentice can assemble a gun.

Even though the old steward had limited knowledge, he believed the gun would surely change the nature of warfare.

Not to mention, for defending cities, it could forge impregnable fortresses!

Training an archer takes years,

yet even a peasant, after just a few days of training, can load powder, load bullets, and pull the trigger.

“Young Master, with this weapon, you will surely establish yourself in court—even becoming Chancellor of the Realm is not out of the question!”

The old steward grew more excited as he spoke.

He already envisioned Zhang Jie using firearms to destroy the Western Xia,

defeat the Liao, be enfeoffed as a marquis, appointed as prime minister, reach the pinnacle of power, and be immortalized in history!

Before his death, Emperor Shenzong Zhao Xu left this final edict:

“Whoever recovers the entirety of Yan shall be granted princely rank, even if not of the imperial clan.”

“Uh～”

Seeing the old steward so animated, Zhang Jie awkwardly rubbed his nose.

Should he now tell the old steward

that he had never intended to serve Zhao the Emperor faithfully,

that since the day his divine finger appeared, he had planned to start anew?

“Forget it—it’s not the right time yet.”

After some thought, Zhang Jie decided not to tell the old steward.

The Hanfeizi’s “Shuonan” says: “Affairs succeed through secrecy; speech leads to failure through exposure.”

Rebellion, as long as it hasn’t been launched,

means greater risk of exposure with every additional person who knows.

Even the Great Teacher Zhang Jue, whose organization was unparalleled and whose influence spread across Han,

was forced to launch prematurely when his disciple Tang Zhou of Jinan betrayed him to the authorities,

leading to the arrest and lingchi execution of his other disciple Ma Yiyi.

Emperor Ling of Han immediately ordered a full investigation of all those linked to the Way of Great Peace in Luoyang and throughout the empire,

executing over a thousand, and commanding Jizhou to capture Zhang Jue.

This forced Zhang Jue to launch his rebellion early, igniting the Yellow Turban Uprising.

Besides, the old steward is so happy—let him enjoy it a while longer.

I only hope his heart is strong enough not to stop when he learns the truth.

“Zhong Shu, it’s not enough. Tell Master Liu and the others to recruit more apprentices.

Reward fifty taels of gold for every apprentice who can produce a gun barrel!”

Dissatisfied with the efficiency, Zhang Jie imposed heavy rewards.

He believed that great rewards produce brave men!

“Yes, Young Master.”

The old steward departed to carry out the order.

Though puzzled why Zhang Jie was expanding the craftsman workforce,

his loyalty compelled him to diligently execute Zhang Jie’s commands.

…

At night, Zhang Jie was reading in his study.

But he was not reading Confucian classics like the Four Books and Five Classics,

but Lü Yan’s Daoist text, “Jinhua Zhiyao.”

Lü Yan may be unfamiliar to many, but he had a famous Daoist title: “Chunyangzi!”

He is the Lü Dongbin in the proverb: “A dog bites Lü Dongbin—not recognizing good intentions!”

Lü Dongbin studied under Zhongli Quan and later transmitted the Dao to Liu Haichan and Wang Chongyang,

revered by the Quanzhen Sect as one of the “Northern Five Ancestors” and one of the “Eight Immortals” in folk legend.

Folklore calls him “Fuyou Di Jun,” “Lü Chunyang,”

“Chunyang Fuzi,” “Enzhu Gong,” “Xian Gong,” “Lü Zu,” among others.

Since Zhang Jie inherited internal energy from the Zhang Jies of Yitian and Tianlong,

he had begun studying the writings of Daoist sages.

After all, the origins of internal energy cannot be separated from Buddhism and Daoism.

Daoism had sages like Wang Chongyang; Buddhism had Shaolin Temple, famed for “All martial arts originate from Shaolin.”

Even before the events of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, Huang Shang had cultivated the realm of Grand Master of Martial Arts simply by compiling texts,

producing the extraordinary “Jiuyin Zhenjing.”

Zhang Jie felt he could not let the ancient sages monopolize such wonders.

As for divine techniques and secret manuals—he would wait until he had accumulated greater depth,

then create his own divine art!

Why, then, had Zhang Jie been building guns and advancing technology, only to now become obsessed with martial arts?

Zhang Jie declared: both technology and divine art must be pursued—

both hands must grasp, both hands must be strong!

“Occasionally, through a game of dice, I flung my divine sword,

shattering the highest peak of Zhongnan.”

Zhang Jie set down the ancient text, his eyes filled with longing.

Tap-tap.

At that moment, a soft knock came at the door.

“Is it Jinlian? Come in,” Zhang Jie said casually.

In the past, when he studied in his study, Pan Jinlian always brought him late-night snacks on schedule.

Creak.

The door opened, and a slender figure stepped in with lotus steps.

Zhang Jie looked up and saw it was not Pan Jinlian, but Yan Poqi?

“Poqi, why are you here? Never mind, just put the snack on the table.”

Zhang Jie gave a casual order, picked up the ancient text, and returned his focus to it.

Zhang Jie: I must focus my energy on martial arts~

“Young Master, let your servant attend to you.”

Yan Poqi, carrying the food box, approached the desk with lotus steps.

“Hmm, no need. Just leave it here.”

Zhang Jie replied without looking up.

Though he did not reject comfort, he maintained moderation,

not to the point of being served food and clothing without lifting a hand.

“Young Master, please look at me.”

Yan Poqi pleaded softly, tears welling in her eyes.

Zhang Jie was about to throw out the troublemaking Yan Poxi.

But when he looked up, he saw Yan Poxi let her outer robe fall to the floor,

revealing a slender, curvaceous body draped only in sheer gauze, every contour of her form—mountains and rivers—half-hidden, half-revealed.

“This…”

Zhang Jie’s words choked in his throat.

Gulp~

He swallowed hard, and the fire he had long suppressed surged violently within him.

“Young Master~”

Yan Poxi’s eyes dripped with seduction, as if her charm would melt into spring water.

“Poxi, leave for now.”

Zhang Jie took several deep breaths and still quelled the fire in his heart.

He had refused Pan Jinlian’s suggestion to take Yan Poxi in just a few days ago,

and now to yield to Yan Poxi himself—wouldn’t that be slapping his own face?

“Is the Young Master worried about Sister Jinlian?”

Yan Poxi, sensing his inner turmoil, smiled sweetly.

“Mm.”

Zhang Jie nodded; this was no secret worth hiding.

“Young Master need not worry—it was Sister Jinlian who sent me.”

Yan Poxi drew even closer to Zhang Jie, her breath fragrant as orchid.

Zhang Jie could already smell the lingering scent of her recent bath.

“This…”

Zhang Jie fell into thought.

‘Jinlian still doesn’t trust me!’ he sighed inwardly.

He had already explained to Pan Jinlian his theory of seed and soil,

yet she seemed unconvinced, still blaming herself.

So far, she still believed her own soil was too barren,

unable to nurture the overly potent seed he carried.

But Zhang Jie did not agree:

Though he had shared Qi several times and now possessed internal energy, his body strong and vigorous,

he still considered himself a mere mortal, far from the infertility common among cultivators in the immortal world.

Even in the immortal world, infertility was typically an issue only for

Golden Core masters—or even Nascent Soul ancestors.

He had never heard of a Qi Condensation or Foundation Establishment cultivator unable to sire children.

After all, a seed consists of hundreds of millions—how could it possibly be too powerful?

“Sigh. The only way to prove it’s not Jinlian’s problem is through action.”

Zhang Jie’s face glowed with sacred self-sacrifice.

He was sacrificing himself for Pan Jinlian!

He grabbed Yan Poxi and pulled her into his arms.

“Young Master~”

Yan Poxi gazed up at Zhang Jie’s chiseled profile, utterly spellbound.

Zhang Jie rose, scooped Yan Poxi into his arms, and walked toward the bedroom behind the study.

“I beg the Young Master to be gentle.”

As Zhang Jie’s actions deepened, Yan Poxi pleaded softly.

“I am sacrificing myself for Jinlian!”

With the lofty spirit of self-sacrifice, Zhang Jie began humanity’s most primal, yet most sacred act…