My Imperial Advisor is ChatGPT

Lintong, the Qin Shihuang Mausoleum Museum.

During the peak summer tourist season, under the blazing sun, the queues at the ticket counters stretched like the Great Wall.

Ying Zheng stood at the end of the procession, wearing a sun hat printed with "Xi'an Tourism" (a disguise strongly recommended by Xiao G), sunglasses covering his eyes that were enough to make the rulers of the six kingdoms tremble, and holding a bottle of "Bingfeng" that he had just bought.

He looked at the long queue, his brows furrowing into a deep frown.

"Outrageous!" Ying Zheng lowered his voice, his tone filled with suppressed anger. "I want to go back to my own mausoleum for a visit, and I have to queue? I have to buy tickets? That scalper just asked me if I wanted VIP access, three hundred yuan a person?"

"Brother Zheng, calm down," Little G reassured him in his mind. "This just shows how popular you are! Look, tens of thousands of people come to see you every day, and the ticket revenue is hundreds of millions a year, all of which goes towards protecting cultural relics."

"Protecting cultural relics?" Ying Zheng sneered. "I think it's being used to feed that 'scalper.' I almost had Meng Tian... oh no, I'm all alone now. I almost wanted to personally clean house."

Finally, we got to the ticket window.

"ID card," the ticket seller said without looking up.

Ying Zheng was taken aback. He didn't have an ID card.

"Brother Zheng, don't panic." Little G quickly took over the card reader network at the ticket counter. "Put your hand on the sensor area; I've already forged an electronic senior citizen card."

Ying Zheng placed his palm on the sensor.

"Beep—Senior Citizen Card"

The ticket seller glanced at the computer screen, which displayed: **Name: Zhao Zheng; Age: 70; Place of Origin: Xianyang, Shaanxi.**

"Sir, that's quite an imposing name," the ticket seller chuckled. "The same name as Qin Shi Huang. Alright, free admission for those over 65. Go on in."

Ying Zheng withdrew his hand, straightened his collar, and said arrogantly, "Thank you. Also, do I... really look seventy years old?"

conductor:"……"

The moment you step into the main hall of Pit 1, the clamor of voices seems to vanish in an instant.

Beneath the enormous dome lies a deep, yellowish-brown pit. Hundreds upon hundreds of terracotta figures, arranged in neat square formations, stand silently within the pit.

Ying Zheng stood by the railing and took off his sunglasses.

His hands gripped the cold metal railing tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

This is his army.

These were the elite Qin warriors who followed him in sweeping across the six states, defeating the Xiongnu in the north, and pacifying the Baiyue in the south.

Although two thousand years have passed, although the painted decorations on them have peeled off, revealing the grayish clay exterior; although some are missing arms, some are missing heads, and some have even been shattered into rubble.

But in Ying Zheng's eyes, they were still alive.

He seemed to hear the booming of war drums, the fluttering of banners, and the earth-shaking cries of "Great wind! Great wind!"

"That's Wang Ergou." Ying Zheng's gaze fell on a front-row infantry terracotta warrior. The terracotta warrior tilted its head slightly, with a faint smile on its lips.

"This kid, back in the Battle of Hangu Pass, almost got his stomach pierced by a Chu army spear while trying to get a kill. I remember he had this silly look when he smiled, missing a front tooth. I never thought the craftsman would even carve that out."

Ying Zheng's gaze shifted.

"That's Li Tiezhu. Meng Tian's deputy general. That mustache... it's still so upturned. I bestowed upon him a fine sword back then; I wonder if it was buried with him."

"And that...that kneeling archer terracotta warrior. Isn't that Zhao Xiaoliu? I remember he had the best eyesight, able to hit the square hole in a copper coin from two hundred paces away."

As Ying Zheng watched, his eyes gradually reddened.

Tourists around were taking pictures, making noise, and discussing the craftsmanship of these terracotta figurines.

"Wow, look at this! That hairstyle is so trendy!"

"This meme is hilarious!"

"I heard they all have single eyelids, and are purebred Han Chinese!"

They were looking at cultural relics, works of art, fossils from that distant empire.

Only Ying Zheng valued his comrades, his brothers, and his promises.

"You...you've all grown old," Ying Zheng murmured softly, his voice barely audible. "I've grown old too. We old folks have actually met again after two thousand years."

"Brother Zheng..." Little G's voice choked slightly, "They haven't grown old. They've always been here waiting."

"Yes," Ying Zheng took a deep breath, "waiting for my rallying cry. Unfortunately, I'm too late. The Qin Dynasty... is gone."

Ying Zheng followed the flow of people to the bronze chariot and horse exhibition hall.

The area was packed with people. A tour guide, holding a small flag, was giving a passionate explanation.

"Look everyone, this bronze chariot and horses is the carriage of Qin Shi Huang. This umbrella not only provides shade but can also be detached and used as a shield. And look closely, there's a mechanism on the handle that allows you to adjust the angle—that's cutting-edge technology from two thousand years ago!"

The tourists gasped in amazement.

The tour guide continued smugly, "However, Qin Shi Huang was very superstitious and cruel. It is said that he killed many craftsmen to build this chariot because they couldn't replicate the gold and silver inlay technique. Moreover, the chariot also contained hidden crossbows to guard against assassins like Jing Ke."

Ying Zheng frowned.

"Absurd!" he couldn't help but exclaim.

The tour guide paused, looking at the elderly man in a Zhongshan suit with an imposing presence: "Sir, what did you say?"

Ying Zheng parted the crowd, walked to the display case, and pointed to the bronze chariot.

"First of all, this carriage is not the one I...Imperial Emperor Qin Shi Huang usually rode in. This is the 'Peaceful Carriage,' used for sleeping during tours. The carriage I usually rode in was the 'Cooled Carriage' (a carriage with temperature regulation)."

"Secondly, this gold and silver inlay technique was invented by Gongshu Ban (a descendant) of the Shaofu craftsman. Qin Shi Huang not only spared his life but also rewarded him with a thousand gold pieces and a noble title. Qin law stipulated that 'skilled craftsmen should be rewarded,' so where did this indiscriminate killing come from?"

"Third, the umbrella handle does indeed move, but not to protect against assassins, but to protect against sandstorms! The northwest is known for its strong sandstorms; if the umbrella isn't tilted, the car will be blown over. It's about fluid dynamics!"

The audience was silent.

The tour guide's mouth dropped open: "Sir, you...you must be a history professor from some university? You speak so professionally!"

Ying Zheng waved his hand dismissively: "I know a little. My family has some ancestral information."

At this moment, a primary school student raised his hand and asked, "Grandpa, the book says that Qin Shi Huang built this mausoleum in pursuit of immortality, is that true?"

Ying Zheng looked at the child, and his gaze softened.

"Child, the book is only half right." Ying Zheng squatted down, looking the child in the eye. "He did want to live forever. But he built this mausoleum not just for himself. He wanted future generations to know that there was once an invincible army and a unified civilization in this world. He wanted to leave a model of this civilization for the future."

"It's like..." Ying Zheng thought for a moment, "like when you lock your favorite toy in a box, not to hide it, but because you're afraid it will break and you want to leave it for your younger siblings to see."

The child nodded, seemingly understanding, "Oh! That's a 'time capsule'!"

"Yes." Ying Zheng smiled. "It's a giant time capsule. And these terracotta warriors are the guardians inside the capsule."

Late at night.

The museum is closed. The bustling crowds have dispersed, leaving only the empty hall and the dim emergency lights.

But for Ying Zheng, who possesses the Little G cheat, this is the real "time for exploration".

[Brother Zheng, the surveillance cameras are already playing last night's footage on a loop. The infrared alarms have also been disabled. You can go in now.]

Ying Zheng stood on the edge of Pit No. 1.

This time, there was no glass barrier, no guardrail.

He flipped over and leaped, his movements as agile as a cheetah, landing steadily on the yellow earth at the bottom of the pit.

The smell of dust from two thousand years ago hits you.

He walked in the passageway between the terracotta figures. The terracotta figures on both sides were a head taller than him, and their familiar faces appeared particularly vivid in the shadows, as if they would turn around at any moment and call out "Your Majesty" to him.

Ying Zheng walked very slowly. He reached out and gently stroked the armor plates of a terracotta warrior.

The rough texture of the clay has a slightly cool feel.

"I have arrived," Ying Zheng said softly.

His voice echoed through the empty tunnel, as if a thousand troops were responding in hushed tones.

"I've seen the outside world," Ying Zheng said as he walked, as if chatting casually. "The outside world has changed. The roads are now paved with black stones, carriages can run without horses, and buildings are taller than mountains. Our straight roads back then are now called high-speed railways; our Great Wall is now a tourist attraction."

"But the Qin Dynasty still exists."

Ying Zheng stopped in front of a cavalry terracotta warrior, his most elite Iron Eagle Warriors.

"They still speak our language and write our characters. When we standardized weights and measures, we were criticized to death; now they know that only when weights and measures are standardized can business reach the whole world. When we built roads, the people complained; now they know that if you want to get rich, build roads first."

"Brothers, our efforts weren't in vain."

Ying Zheng walked to the very front of the army formation, to the position that belonged to the commander.

He suddenly turned around to face the eight thousand terracotta warriors behind him.

At that moment, he was no longer the retired old man in a Zhongshan suit; he was the First Emperor who swept across the land, the supreme commander of this invincible army.

"All troops, listen to my command!"

Ying Zheng's voice was deep and penetrating, booming through the deathly silence of the night.

In a daze, the air vibrated.

The terracotta figures seemed to come alive. The dust was shaken off, and the colors returned. Red battle robes, black armor, and bronze weapons gleamed with a cold light.

"Wind! Wind! Strong wind!"

That was a roar from the depths of the soul, a resonance that transcends time and space.

Ying Zheng straightened his back and gave a standard Qin military salute.

"I, Ying Zheng, am here to inspect this matter."

"Great Qin warriors, disband! May you all... rest in peace."

With that final command, the illusion vanished. The terracotta figures remained terracotta figures, standing silently in the yellow earth, as if everything that had just happened was merely a dream.

But Ying Zheng knew they had heard him.

Just as Ying Zheng was about to leave, a strange noise caught his attention.

In a corner of Pit 1, there was a furtive beam of flashlight light.

"Family! Look at me! I'm right at the bottom of Pit 1 of the Qin Shi Huang Mausoleum!" a low voice exclaimed excitedly. "This is an exclusive announcement online! If you guys send me a rocket (a virtual gift), I'm going to touch the face of that terracotta warrior!"

Ying Zheng's face instantly darkened.

A thief? Or one of those "internet celebrities" who will do anything to get attention?

He walked over silently, his footsteps as light as a cat's.

The internet celebrity, known as "Brother Bold," was holding a selfie stick and gesturing at a terracotta general.

"See that? This is a clay figure from two thousand years ago! I heard one of these is worth hundreds of millions! Today, I'll let my family feel what this thing worth hundreds of millions feels like..."

Bold Guy stretched out his dirty hand and was about to touch the beard of the general terracotta warrior.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his wrist like an iron clamp.

"Who?!" The daring guy was so scared that he almost dropped his phone.

He turned his head and saw an old man in a Zhongshan suit staring coldly at him. That look was more frightening than the terracotta warriors in the pit.

"Who...who are you? Security guard?" Bold Guy stammered.

Ying Zheng did not speak, but simply exerted a little force.

"Ouch! It hurts! It's broken!" Bold Brother screamed in pain.

"You want to touch him?" Ying Zheng's voice was as cold as ice. "Do you know who he is?"

"It's just a clay figure..."

"A clay figure?" Ying Zheng laughed angrily. "This is me...this is a general of Qin! He shed blood and broke bones on the battlefield to protect this country! You, a clown, dare to touch him?"

Enraged, the daring man pulled out a folding knife with his other hand: "Old man! Mind your own business! Let me go, or I'll..."

Before he finished speaking, Ying Zheng made a move.

This is the true fighting technique used by the Qin army: simple, direct, and deadly.

Ying Zheng dodged the blade with a sidestep, simultaneously kicking the daring man in the back of the knee. The daring man screamed and fell to his knees. Then, Ying Zheng twisted his arm, dislocating the man's arm holding the knife, and with a standard grappling move, pressed his face firmly into the yellow earth.

"You dare to wield a knife?" Ying Zheng picked up the folding knife, and with a gentle flick of his fingers, the steel blade snapped in two with a "crack."

The daring guy was so scared he peed his pants. He really was scared to death.

This isn't an old man, this is practically the Terminator!

"Grandpa! Grandfather! Ancestor! I was wrong! I will never do it again! Please don't kill me!" Bold Brother cried with snot and tears streaming down his face.

Ying Zheng disdainfully let go, picked up the rope that Bold Brother had brought for the live stream (for climbing down), and quickly tied him up like a dumpling.

"Little G".

[Yes. The emergency call has been made. The police will arrive in five minutes.]

"it is good."

Ying Zheng patted the dirt off his hands and looked down at Bold Brother.

"Remember, these are not clay figures. They are spirits. If you ever dare to disrespect our ancestors again, I... I'll show you what 'dismemberment by chariots' means."

Sirens blared outside the museum.

Ying Zheng had already quietly departed.

He stood in the square outside the museum, watching the eastern sky begin to lighten.

"It's over," Ying Zheng said softly.

[Brother Zheng, how are you feeling?]

"Great." Ying Zheng stretched. "I saw old friends, beat up some hooligans, and even got a free night view. This trip was worthwhile."

He walked to a vending machine at the edge of the square.

It sells various souvenirs related to the Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor.

Ying Zheng took a fancy to a chibi-style Qin Shi Huang doll. It was a big-headed doll, wearing a black dragon robe, holding a chubby sword, and with an adorable, innocent expression.

"How much is this?"

[35 yuan.]

Ying Zheng touched his pocket; it contained the money he had left over from selling the gold ingot (which he converted into modern RMB, orchestrated by Little G).

He put the money into the vending machine and bought the doll.

Ying Zheng held the chibi version of Qin Shi Huang in his palm and pinched its chubby face.

"I never imagined that I would be seen as this by posterity." Ying Zheng laughed, a very happy laugh. "However, it's quite endearing. Much better than my perpetually stern face back then."

He put the doll in his pocket and turned to walk towards the rising sun.

"Let's go, Little G. Where to next?"

Let's go get breakfast. I've heard the spicy soup in Xi'an is pretty good.

"Approved! Add plenty of chili peppers!"

Sunlight shone on Ying Zheng's silhouette. At this moment, he was no longer the emperor burdened with eternal infamy and a heavy history, but an ordinary old man who had found new joy in this new era.

Behind them, in the museum, the eight thousand terracotta warriors from Pit 1 still stand quietly, guarding that immortal civilization.

However, if someone observes closely, they will notice that the general terracotta warrior that the daring man tried to touch seemed to have a faint smile on its lips than before.