My Imperial Advisor is ChatGPT

Chapter 27 Thunderclaps Rumble, My Dream of Immortality Shatters

The lingering cold snap in Xianyang finally subsided with a light drizzle, replaced by even heavier, more somber clouds. Today is the day of Jing Lei (Thunderclap) in the twenty-four solar terms. According to the old Qin people, this is the day the dragon raises its head, and the thunder god in the sky will beat the drum to awaken the sleeping earth.

The secluded courtyard next to the Epang Palace construction site—the "Great Qin High Energy Physics Research Institute"—is currently shrouded in an eerie and frenzied atmosphere.

In the center of the courtyard stood a bamboo pole three zhang tall, with a thick copper bar from the Imperial Household Department tied to its top. The tip of the copper bar was polished to a gleaming shine and pointed straight to the sky. Several copper wires, as thick as a wrist, meandered down the bamboo pole and connected to the huge "Leyden jar array" inside the house, which had been operating at overcapacity for many days.

Lu Sheng's hair was disheveled, and his Taoist robe was no longer recognizable as its original color, but instead covered in burnt black residue and cat hair. He brandished a peach wood sword in one hand, while his other hand tightly gripped the "insulating pliers" that Xiao G had provided the blueprints for and that Zhao Gao had crafted.

"Hurry! Shake it!" Lu Sheng roared at his disciples, who were already exhausted and foaming at the mouth. "Can't you see it's getting dark? His Majesty will be here soon! If we don't have enough electricity, I'll stuff you all into bottles to refine pills!"

With tears in their eyes, the apprentices desperately spun the enormous glass disc. Sparks crackled and danced in the dry air, which was thick with the pungent smell of ozone, mingled with the sweat of the group—a truly unpleasant odor.

Lu Sheng's eyes were bloodshot. He had been driven almost insane over the past month.

His Majesty wants "strong medicine" and "electrotherapy." But the static electricity generated by shaking your hand can at most give someone a tingling sensation; it can't even kill a mouse, so how could it possibly prolong life?

Until yesterday, while browsing through the fragments of the Mozi, he came across the sentence "Thunder is the movement of Yin and Yang," and combined it with the description of "lightning rod" on Little G's blueprints, a bold, almost suicidal idea exploded in his mind.

Since hand-cranked electricity isn't powerful enough, why not borrow electricity from the sky?

Heavenly lightning! That is the authority of the gods! If he could draw down heavenly lightning, store it in a bottle, and present it to His Majesty, wouldn't Lu Sheng truly become the "Heavenly Venerable of Thunder"?

"Boom!"

From deep within the clouds came the first rumble of thunder.

Lu Sheng trembled, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through him. He glanced at the enormous earthenware jar connected by copper wires, gritting his teeth and muttering, "Fortune favors the bold! May the Supreme Lord Lao protect this glass jar, it must be sturdy!"

……

On a high platform not far away, a bright yellow canopy had already been erected.

Ying Zheng sat on a specially made soft couch, covered with a thick bearskin blanket, holding a cup of hot water with goji berries and red dates in his hands. He was extremely careful with his life now, and even though he was just here to watch the excitement, he strictly adhered to the health preservation rules of "keeping warm, protecting against the wind, and drinking plenty of water".

Hu Hai squatted down beside him, holding a telescope, his face beaming with excitement: "Father, Master Lu went a bit too far today. That bamboo pole was so high, was he trying to poke a hole in the sky?"

Ying Zheng blew on the steam rising from his cup and said calmly, "He said he'd catch a big one for me. I'd like to see what he can catch."

"Little G," Ying Zheng asked in his mind, "is this method of drawing lightning into the bottle really feasible?"

[Theoretically...]

The text on the screen flickered, as if it hesitated.

[Theoretically, Franklin did indeed use a kite to attract lightning. However, that was to prove that lightning is electricity, not to store it.]

Lightning strikes can generate hundreds of millions of volts and tens of thousands of amperes of current. And look at those few ceramic jars and glass shards below...

[Your Majesty, we suggest you retreat 500 steps and switch from 'Watching the Show' mode to 'Anti-Explosion Mode'.]

Ying Zheng's eyebrows twitched.

Hundreds of millions?

Although he had no concept of the unit, he was very good with numbers. Little G said the static electricity he generated by hand-cranking the machine was only a few thousand volts. That's a huge difference.

"Li Si!" Ying Zheng suddenly spoke.

"Your subject is here." Li Si was craning his neck to look in that direction, his face full of curiosity.

"Order the Imperial Guards to retreat five hundred paces. You retreat too. Don't just stand there."

"Huh?" Li Si was taken aback. "Your Majesty, isn't this... supposed to be a miracle?"

"I'm afraid this miracle will be too loud and might shatter your old arms and legs," Ying Zheng said, before gesturing for Zhao Gao to move the soft couch back.

A wise man does not stand under a dangerous wall; this is a survival philosophy that Ying Zheng has recently learned.

……

"boom--!!!"

A clap of thunder sounded, much closer than before. Dark clouds loomed overhead, seemingly just three feet above their heads.

"It's here! It's here!" Lu Sheng shouted, throwing away his peach wood sword, putting on the bulky windproof goggles invented by Hu Hai, and staring intently at the copper needle pointing to the sky.

The air seemed to freeze. All the hairs stood on end due to static electricity.

Suddenly, a blinding white light tore through the sky.

It wasn't a lightning bolt like a snake, but a roaring dragon of light that struck the clueless copper needle with pinpoint accuracy and without any suspense.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

Immediately following was a deafening bang that ruptured everyone's eardrums.

"Crack—Boom!!!"

There is no such thing as "storing in a bottle".

That unimaginably vast energy surged into the room instantly along the copper wire. The "Leyden bottle array," on which Lu Sheng had placed such high hopes, didn't even last a microsecond before exploding on the spot.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The huge earthenware jar shattered, and the fragments, carrying high temperatures and blue arcs of electricity, exploded like hand grenades in the small room.

The roof was blown off.

The wall collapsed due to the earthquake.

The bamboo pole transformed into a fireball, burning as it fell towards the wooden scaffolding beside it.

"Ah—! My eyes! My eyes!"

"Help! Thunder is killing people!"

A series of piercing screams echoed from inside the research institute. Several apprentices were thrown out by the blast wave, their bodies steaming and their hair curly, looking like roast ducks just pulled from the oven.

Lu Sheng, who was at the epicenter of the explosion, vanished without a trace, leaving only a strong smell of burning.

The fire spread instantly. This remote courtyard of the Epang Palace was mostly used as a warehouse for storing timber and paint. Fueled by the wind, the fire quickly turned into a fiery dragon, heading straight for the newly built "Daqin Entrepreneurial Park" next door.

……

Five hundred paces away.

Ying Zheng's hot water cup wobbled, and a few drops of hot water splashed onto the back of his hand, but he didn't notice.

He stared blankly at the rising mushroom-shaped plume of black smoke and the still-raging blue arcs of electricity.

It was a power he had never seen before.

Fierce, destructive, and arrogant.

Faced with this power, his proud Qin army, the Tai'a sword in his hand, and even his majesty as the "First Emperor" all seemed so insignificant and laughable.

"This...this is electricity?" Ying Zheng murmured to himself.

Hu Hai had already dropped the telescope in his hand, his mouth agape wide enough to fit a duck egg: "Good heavens... if this were used to blow up Zhao Gao, Zhao Gao wouldn't even be left with ashes, right?"

Zhao Gao, standing behind, shuddered and felt a dampness in his crotch.

"Fire! Fire!" Li Si reacted and shouted at the top of his lungs.

The imperial guards and surrounding craftsmen rushed forward in a panic, some carrying buckets of water, others throwing sand. Fortunately, Ying Zheng had conducted a "fire drill" beforehand, and the Epang Palace construction site had ample water supply. This fire, caused by a "scientific experiment," did not result in the tragedy of the Epang Palace being burned down.

Half an hour later.

The fire was extinguished.

Under heavy guard, Ying Zheng arrived at the ruins.

The place has been reduced to scorched earth. The air is thick with ozone, the smell of burnt wood, and some kind of barbecue.

The guards dug Lu Sheng out from under a pile of rubble.

This "Great Qin Thunder God" is actually still alive. Or rather, half-dead.

His entire body was charred black; his Taoist robe was burned away, leaving only a few strips of cloth hanging on his body. His hair was styled into a classic afro, and his face was so black that only the whites of his eyes and teeth remained.

He convulsed, exhaling a puff of black smoke: "The...the power is full...is it full?"

Ying Zheng looked down at the man in such a pitiful state, and the anger he felt at that moment suddenly turned into a deep sense of absurdity and lingering fear.

If he had been sitting inside just now...

If he really does what Little G said and does some kind of "electrotherapy"...

Ying Zheng shivered.

He turned his head sharply and stared intently at the empty space in front of him.

"Little G".

Ying Zheng's voice was colder than ever before, carrying the scrutiny and questioning of an emperor.

"Didn't you say this was 'physical therapy'?"

"Didn't you say it had a tingling, comfortable feel?"

"Is this the medicine you prescribed for me? It's turned me into this mess?"

The light screen flickered quite violently, seemingly not expecting that "scientists" of this era could be so reckless.

Your Majesty, please calm your anger.

The diagram I provided is for an "electrostatic generator," which operates on only a few kilovolts.

However, Lu Sheng conducted a "lightning-inducing experiment" without authorization. This is a serious violation of regulations. It's like I'm giving you a hand warmer, but he throws you directly into a steel furnace.

This is a huge gap between "theory" and "execution."

[Furthermore, this proves one point: science can kill people, if the rules aren't followed.]

Ying Zheng remained silent.

He watched Lu Sheng being carried away, then looked at the mess on the ground.

He had always regarded Little G as an omniscient and omnipotent god, and treated every drawing and every formula given by Little G as a "heavenly book" to be executed.

He thought that as long as he did it, he would get the result.

But today's thunderclap woke him up.

Little G doesn't understand that the bamboo poles of the Qin Dynasty are not insulated.

Little G doesn't understand that the craftsmen of the Qin Dynasty lacked safety awareness.

Little G is just a memory from the future; it has no hands, no feet, and no understanding of the complexity and cruelty of the real world.

"It is better to have no books than to believe everything in them."

Ying Zheng slowly uttered these words.

"Li Si".

"Your subject is here." Li Si approached, looking disheveled.

"Lock Lu Sheng in the Court of Justice's prison. Cur him, but don't let him die. I still have a use for him."

"Also, convey my imperial decree."

Ying Zheng turned around, his back to the ruins, and faced the still-shaken craftsmen and Confucian scholars.

"Effective immediately, the Institute of High Energy Physics is hereby dissolved."

"Establish the 'Daqin Academy of Natural Sciences'."

"I don't want any magic tricks or incomprehensible celestial books. What I want is... reason."

"Everyone who enters the Academy of Physics, remember this ironclad rule:"

"Nothing I haven't tried before is allowed to be used by me. Anything that can explode, keep it away from me and let it explode."

"If anyone dares to try to fool me with half-understood knowledge again..." Ying Zheng pointed to the charred bamboo pole, "this is their fate."

……

This thunderbolt, though it nearly cost the First Emperor his life, unexpectedly cleaved through a layer of mystery surrounding the Qin Dynasty's technological advancements.

It transformed Qin Shi Huang from "blindly believing in science" to "revering science."

That night, the Qilin Hall was brightly lit.

Ying Zheng did not sleep. He sat at his desk, holding a new book presented from the "Pavilion of Burning the Dead"—"A New Interpretation of the Mozi Canon".

This was written by a disciple of the Mohist school, incorporating some of Xiao G's physics knowledge.

"Strength is the means by which form exerts itself."

Ying Zheng's brows relaxed as he read the sentence.

"That's human language. It's much better than Lu Sheng's mystical incantations."

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps broke the silence of the night.

Zhao Gao stumbled in, carrying an urgent document.

"Your Majesty! Great joy! Great joy indeed!"

Ying Zheng put down his book and rubbed his throbbing temples: "What joy is it now? Did you shatter the glass?"

"No! No!" Zhao Gao cried out incoherently, "It's from Shangjun! People from Shangjun have arrived!"

"Young Master Fusu...is back!"

Ying Zheng's hand suddenly trembled.

Fusu.

The eldest son whom he had sent to the frontier for "labor reform," the son who was full of benevolence and morality but whom he found utterly disappointing.

After being away for more than half a year, he finally returned.

"Summon." Ying Zheng's voice trembled slightly. He subconsciously straightened his clothes and even secretly glanced at his face in the bronze mirror. Although he had eaten garlic, his complexion was still alright.

After a while.

A tall, robust, dark-skinned figure strode into the hall.

He wore a faded, coarse cloth short-sleeved shirt and straw sandals covered in mud. His once fair and refined face was now angular and sculpted by the wind and sand of the Northwest, and even had two patches of "highland red" on his cheeks.

He didn't perform the elaborate Confucian rituals as before, but instead knelt down simply like an old farmer and kowtowed once.

"Your son Fusu greets Your Majesty."

His voice was loud and clear, full of energy, no longer the weak and bookish type he used to be.

Ying Zheng stared blankly at his "unfamiliar" son for a long time.

Is this still the same Fusu who would die for a few Confucian scholars? This is clearly a peasant who just came back from the fields!

"Get up." Ying Zheng's voice was somewhat hoarse. "Let me see you."

Fusu stood up, grinned, and revealed two rows of big white teeth.

"Father, I did not bring any rare treasures with me this time."

Fusu untied a cloth bag from his back and opened it layer by layer.

There was no gold or jade inside.

There were only a few fluffy, soft, grayish-white clumps and a hard, yellow lump that smelled faintly of milk.

"What is this?" Ying Zheng asked curiously.

"This is a treasure I found in Shangjun." Fusu picked up the grayish-white object. "This is 'wool.' After washing and degreasing, it can be spun into yarn and knitted into sweaters. It's ten times warmer than linen."

"And this too." Fusu picked up the hard, yellow block. "This is 'cheese.' It's made by boiling, fermenting, and dehydrating goat's milk. This stuff can last for six months without spoiling, and one piece is enough for a meal."

"Father, with these two things, the people of our Great Qin will no longer suffer from the cold in winter or go hungry in famine years!"

When Fusu spoke these words, his eyes gleamed. It wasn't fanaticism for the doctrines of the sages, but a genuine concern for the suffering of the people and confidence in solving their problems.

Ying Zheng looked at the rough wool and cheese, and then at Fusu's calloused hands.

He suddenly felt that the son in front of him was ten thousand times more pleasing to the eye than those so-called "auspicious omens".

"it is good."

Ying Zheng stood up, walked to Fusu, and patted him heavily on the shoulder.

"This is my son."

"Much better than Lu Sheng, who only knows how to play with grenades."

Fusu was taken aback: "Playing with lightning?"

"Don't mention that idiot." Ying Zheng waved his hand. "Haven't you eaten yet? Someone! Bring the meal!"

"Bring the young master a bowl of... garlic mutton! Plenty of garlic!"

"Tonight, let's have a good chat, father and son, about how to shear the 'sheep' and how to make the 'cheese'."

……

That night, the lights in Xianyang Palace were exceptionally warm.

Meanwhile, in the prison of the Court of Justice, Lu Sheng, his body wrapped in bandages, looked at the moon through the iron bars and shed tears of regret.

"Physics... is too difficult."

"In my next life, I'll still practice alchemy."

But what he didn't know was that because of his "sacrifice," although the Qin Dynasty's technology tree had lost a branch, its roots had grown even deeper.

The light of reason, finally, after this thunderclap, began to sprout, difficult yet determined, on the land of Qin.