Programmer Lin San died suddenly while working overtime. When he opened his eyes, he became a hot-headed soldier named "Xiao San" in the military camp on the border of Daqin. Others who traveled through time were either princes or generals, but he was not the best, holding a chipped pottery knife to a pile of moldy beans. Xianyang Palace? Hundreds of schools of thought? None of his business. He just wanted to get something to eat for himself before Qin Lu chopped off his head. Until that day, he picked up a piece of black stone outside the camp and refined it into snow-white particles in a clay pot. The centurion stared at the jar of "poisonous salt" and pulled out his bronze sword: "If you dare to taste it, I will believe it." Lin San licked the corner of his mouth. It's time for Great Qin to change its way of life.
