## Reborn as a tyrant in the Ming Dynasty: My technology crushes everything
>Zhu Youxiao opened his eyes and found that he had become the carpenter emperor.
>At present, the Donglin Party is using the "ancestral system" to force him to give up the research and development of firearms.
>He sneered: "Drag him out, Tingzhang!"
>When Jin Yiwei presented the formula of granulated gunpowder, Yang's flintlock gun instantly misfired among the ministers.
>Wei Zhongxian flattered and offered advice: "Your Majesty, why not count all the opponents..."
>"The ones I want to kill are the slaves, not the idiots." He pointed to the map of Liaodong, "Passenger: Summon Xu Guangqi, and I want to build a steam ironclad."
>Amidst the uproar throughout the court, he gently touched the dragon chair: "Whoever mentions the ancestral system again, I will send him to see the ancestors."
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Qianqing Palace.
The sandalwood was stagnant in the palace with heavy curtains, and it was so heavy that it was almost breathless. The light in the hall was dim, with only a few rays of sunlight passing through the high windows, barely illuminating the area around the throne. Zhu Youxiao—or in other words, another soul occupying the young emperor's body at this moment—opened his eyes suddenly.
An unfamiliar heaviness instantly enveloped him. On his head was a heavy twelve-pointed crown, and the hanging jade beads swayed slightly in front of his eyes, making a thin and cold sound when they collided. On his body is a complicated and thick black twelve-chapter pattern embroidery, with dragon pattern embroidery entwined with gold threads scratching the skin, and every pattern is like an invisible shackle. A complex smell of old wood, old books, and expensive incense poured into his nostrils.
He subconsciously wanted to raise his hand to rub his swollen temples, but his fingertips touched the cold, hard object under him - the dragon chair. It was carefully carved from a whole piece of golden nanmu.
