I transmigrated as the Tianqi Emperor, Zhu Youxiao, and watched the Donglin faction curse the eunuch faction while the eunuch faction bit back at the Donglin faction.
I smiled.
Keep fighting. Go on.
I turned around and headed straight for the carpentry workshop.
They said I was obsessed with woodworking, unfit for great things, and that the Ming Dynasty was doomed.
They didn’t know that the cannon barrels in Liaodong were bored using a lathe I had improved;
They didn’t know that I had calculated the commercial taxes in Jiangnan one abacus bead at a time;
And they had no idea that when the Later Jin cavalry charged to the foot of Shanhai Pass, they would face a death formation of ten thousand cannons designed by my own hand.
Nurhaci asked me, “Carpenter Zhu, what else have you got?”
I pointed toward the sea.
There, my steam fleet, built to an ocean-spanning blueprint, was ready to carry the Ming dragon flag west and collect a few royalties.
After all, the Earth is round, and it belongs to me.
