The Chaotic Great Qian Era: My Mountain Stronghold Is No Joke

Liu Qiang, a modern-day overworked office drone, is revising a proposal late at night when he collapses face-first onto his keyboard. When he opens his eyes again, he has become the “unlucky” chief of Qingfeng Stronghold at the end of the Great Qian dynasty. His predecessor was just hacked to death by an enemy, leaving him with a rundown mountain stronghold short on food and medicine, where everyone is ready to go their separate ways. The land is in chaos, warlords carve up the territory, and tyrannical rule is fiercer than a tiger. With nowhere left to turn, the people can only become outlaws.

Liu Qiang looks at his starving men, whose eyes are green with hunger, at the stronghold walls that let the wind through from every side, then feels in his pockets, emptier than his face. He silently draws on his storehouse of modern knowledge:

The salt jar is empty? Set up an iron pot for distillation. Trade the snowy-white refined salt for gold, and the stronghold can eat meat at every meal from now on;