Fu Tinghan’s expression changed repeatedly. For a moment he said nothing. Technological progress needed to be comprehensive; at the very least, it couldn’t be too imbalanced. Jumping directly from cold weapons to firearms while other technologies showed no major advancement meant production relations wouldn’t change significantly either. Therefore, the emergence of firearms would bring terrifyingly destructive effects to this world and its production relations.

However, Zhao Hanzhang had already made up her mind. “We’re moving too slowly, Tinghan. We’ve seen what the world looks like over a thousand years in the future, so we can completely elevate it by a large margin.”

“You and I are both not ordinary people. You know this—we can accomplish this,” Zhao Hanzhang looked at him with bright, piercing eyes. “Explosives are in our hands. We can choose whether to use them or not, and how to use them.”

Fu Tinghan took a deep breath and nodded. “I understand. When do you plan to assault the city? I’ll go prepare for you.”

Zhao Hanzhang said, “The day after tomorrow. The sooner the better.”

Fu Tinghan then turned and left.

Fu’an hurriedly followed. He didn’t know what was wrong with his young master, whose mood seemed to have suddenly soured, though he’d been quite happy when he saw Lady Zhao last night.

Zhao Hanzhang’s brows were tightly furrowed. She also didn’t look very happy. Ji Yuan, Ming Yu, and the others watched from afar, exchanging glances but saying nothing.

After Zhao Hanzhang also turned back to her tent, Ming Yu asked Ji Yuan, “Did they quarrel? Should we try to mediate?”

Ji Yuan hesitated before saying, “That’s not necessary. They’re young lovers—bickering is normal. Neither of them is the type to let personal matters interfere with public duty. Let’s just pretend we know nothing.”

Though he said this, Ji Yuan still couldn’t help paying attention to the movements of the two.

Soon he heard that Fu Tinghan had gone to the armory, had people clear out an area and guard it strictly, and was inside working on weapons.

A while later, he heard that Zhao Hanzhang had finished processing all the official documents and letters that had just arrived and had gone to the infirmary to check on the wounded soldiers.

Right up until evening, the two hadn’t met again. Even at dinner time, Zhao Hanzhang didn’t have anyone call Fu Tinghan.

So Ji Yuan also became worried. “Perhaps Master Ming was right—we should try to persuade them.”

Ji Yuan had just stood up when the personal guard he’d sent to gather information ran back. “Sir, the Governor and Minister Fu still haven’t reconciled, but the Governor has left her tent and gone up that hill.”

Ji Yuan sat back down. “Forget it. Perhaps the Governor needs to calm down. We still shouldn’t disturb her.”

Late at night, that hilltop would be dark and cold. If they still hadn’t reconciled by tomorrow, he could try persuading them then.

Ji Yuan had just taken out a book and opened it, but for a long time didn’t turn to the next page. After thinking it over, he still stood up. “Tinghan is at the armory, right? I’ll go check on him.”

Just as he walked out the tent entrance, another personal guard came running back to report, “Sir, Minister Fu has come out and is heading toward the hill. He’s carrying a jar of wine too.”

Ji Yuan turned back into the tent. “Good, now I’m not needed.”

The sky was a bit dark. Though the stars filled the sky, their light was weak and couldn’t illuminate the grass clearly. Fu’an held up a lantern in his hand, barely lighting the path ahead.

Fu Tinghan carried a jar of wine. Only after climbing to the hilltop did he dare move his eyes from his feet to look further ahead.

Zhao Hanzhang was lying on the grass with her legs crossed, watching the stars above. Ting He stood to one side. Seeing Fu Tinghan and his servant coming up, she hurried over and whispered to Fu Tinghan, “Young Master, my lady is not well today.”

Fu Tinghan asked, “Did she lose her temper?”

Ting He shook her head. “My lady is not one to lose her temper recklessly.”

Fu Tinghan nodded and said to the two of them, “You both go back first.”

Ting He hesitated. “This…”

Zhao Hanzhang had already sat up and glanced in their direction, saying, “Go back. Take the lantern with you. We don’t need it here.”

Only then did Ting He bow and leave with Fu’an.

Once they’d left, Zhao Hanzhang shifted to the side, sharing half of this flattest patch of grass with Fu Tinghan.

Fu Tinghan walked to her side and sat down, handing her the jar.

Zhao Hanzhang took it, sniffed it, and asked, “Never opened?”

Fu Tinghan made an affirmative sound. “Chen Wu gave it to me when he came, but I don’t like drinking, so I’ve kept it all this time. I thought you might want to drink a little tonight.”

Zhao Hanzhang then slapped open the seal. After uncovering it and sniffing, she said, “Quite fragrant.”

She took a sip, tasted it carefully, and said, “A bit weak. It wasn’t brewed well.”

Fu Tinghan took it and also drank a mouthful. “It’s a problem with the grain. The proportions weren’t mixed well. This wine isn’t pure enough.”

“There still isn’t enough grain right now. We need to restrict the scale of brewing,” Zhao Hanzhang held the wine jar. “Forget it. If it’s not good, it’s not good.”

Fu Tinghan said, “Actually, judging from this year’s wheat yield per mu, we have made progress. It’s mainly due to improvements in some farming methods and the promotion of composting techniques. We applied fertilizer after planting last year and when the wheat turned green this year, so even though the rainfall wasn’t ideal, the yield per mu still wasn’t weaker than previous years.”

“If we could encounter favorable weather, production should be able to increase by about twenty percent.”

Zhao Hanzhang looked at him in surprise. “You mean…”

“But this level of production change is still insufficient to cause qualitative change. We still have a long way to go,” Fu Tinghan said. “If you want to improve production relations and advance this era further, then the technical investment in grain must be even greater.”

Zhao Hanzhang immediately said, “I can write to Yuzhou and Luoyang right away and have them increase funding for the Ministry of Agriculture, letting them do more research.”

Fu Tinghan smiled at her, took the wine jar from her arms, drank a mouthful, then sealed it and set it aside. “It’s cold at night. This is cold wine—we still shouldn’t drink too much.”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded.

Fu Tinghan leaned back onto the grass, looking at the star-filled sky and sighing, “Hanzhang, you’ve integrated into this world. In your heart, you no longer want to go back.”

Zhao Hanzhang said nothing. She also lay back, looking up at the stars filling the sky. In modern times, it was very rare to see such a starry sky. Even in her childhood, it was hard to see such sky-filling, crystal-bright points of starlight—like a heap of diamonds casually scattered and falling to the ground.

“Actually this is quite good,” Fu Tinghan said. “I’ve always been a bit afraid—afraid that you’d keep thinking about going back. If one day you discovered you truly couldn’t return, you’d be very sad.”

“These past few years you’ve been very restrained in your actions because you had concerns. You had to think about whether after you left, you’d leave too many bad influences on this body, this family, and this clan. Even though you developed ambitions and wanted to become emperor, you were very restrained and didn’t do more.”

Fu Tinghan turned his head to look at her. They were lying very close. With one turn of his head, he could clearly see that small mole by her earlobe.

He couldn’t help reaching out to gently press on it. When she looked over, he said in a low voice, “You dared to use explosives as weapons—are you planning to actively stay here?”

—