“Guys, hypothetically, if I transmigrated to Great Qin and found myself standing before Ying Zheng, the greatest emperor of all time and our charming ancestor, with the Black Ice Platform holding a knife to my throat, what should I say to stay alive?”
Lin Xuan had been chewing out a bunch of spineless staff when his vision went black. He transmigrated straight to Great Qin, and into this very predicament.
Fortunately, the “Wise Gong” phone activated its super Q-Chat feature for him, allowing him to connect with his modern-day friends and transfer items.
“Brother Zheng, these are potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn. With these crops, no one in Great Qin will starve to death again, and the lingering problems left by the Six Kingdoms will be resolved too.”
“Brother Zheng, with paper and books, Great Qin will never have another illiterate person.”
“Brother Zheng, here are an AK-47 and grenades. No one will be able to stand against us on the battlefield.”
“Brother Zheng, this is a Little Boy... Now the world is at peace, and all lands beneath the sun and moon belong to Han.”
