My Special Forces Best Friend Keeps Trying to Blow Up the City Walls

The day Ruan Qinghe transmigrated, the third prince of the Northern Yan Kingdom had just put up a notice at the city gate: anyone who could defeat the imperial guards would receive a thousand taels of silver and be made a marquis ruling ten thousand households. Before she could even marvel at how competitive transmigration had become, a familiar voice behind her jolted her awake. “There you are! I finally found you!” She turned around and nearly died of fright. Her best friend Nan Jia, a modern-day special forces soldier who was always shouting “These targets are too flimsy!” at the shooting range, was standing behind her, carrying a bulky black object and grinning like a fox that had just stolen a chicken. “Y-you came too?!” Ruan Qinghe stammered. “I saw a blue flash and got sucked in, too!” Nan Jia shrugged and set the object down with a thud. “Here, I brought some gear along.” Ruan Qinghe took a closer look, her eyes widening in shock. Wasn’t that the latest portable rocket launcher developed by a modern military factory?! “Why did you bring that thing?! We’re here to experience life in ancient times, not stage a military coup!”