I traveled back in time to the troubled times of the Five Dynasties when people everywhere were starving, with only half a piece of moldy wotou left in my pocket. On the first night, the refugees robbed me of all my clothes, and in order to survive I crawled into a pile of dead bodies to keep warm. With the help of scattered records in historical notes, I distilled the first jar of refined salt. On the day Chai Rong vomited blood in the street, my caravan had already monopolized the salt lifeline of the seven countries. When Zhao Kuangyin wore the yellow robe, I was blasting open the Youzhou city gate with silk-wrapped cannonballs. "Your Majesty, Fo Langji's warship has been seized by the Chamber of Commerce." When I pointed to the unmarked land on the globe, the officials trembled - "The next supply target: the whole world."
