I transmigrated into the chaotic Five Dynasties era, where corpses littered the land, with only half a moldy steamed bun in my pocket. On my first night, starving refugees stripped me of everything I wore, and I had to crawl into a pile of corpses for warmth just to stay alive. Using scraps from my history notes, I distilled my first batch of pure salt. By the day Chai Rong vomited blood in the street, my trading caravans had already monopolized the salt lifeline of seven kingdoms. When Zhao Kuangyin donned the yellow robe, I was using silk-wrapped shells to blast open Youzhou’s gates. “Your Majesty, the merchant guild has seized the Portuguese ships.” When I pointed to the unmarked lands on the globe, the ministers trembled. “Our next market: the entire world.”
