My Imperial Advisor is ChatGPT

In late autumn in Xianyang, the sky was a somber, azure blue.

Recently, the people of Xianyang have noticed that the sky above them has changed. Above the once empty streets, there are now black lines, like a giant spider web, covering the entire city and even the distant Epang Palace and Lishan Camp.

Those are newly produced insulated wires.

Thanks to the newly appointed "Marquis of Rubber," Zhao Gao, who accidentally invented vulcanized rubber, the Qin Dynasty's power transmission finally bid farewell to the era of naked operation. These copper wires wrapped in black rubber were no longer "thunder whips" that could electrocute birds and thieves climbing walls at any time, but had become docile energy vessels.

However, rumors continue to circulate among the public regarding the purpose of these black lines.

Some say it's the "Dragon-Locking Formation" set up by His Majesty to lock up the dragon vein of the Qin Dynasty; others say it's the fishing line used by the Imperial Advisor to lure out heavenly soldiers and generals; still others say it's the clothesline Zhao Gao used to dry his underwear that he could never get clean no matter how many times he washed it.

The charcoal fire in the Imperial Study

Inside the imperial study, Ying Zheng was staring blankly at a pile of parts on the desk.

It was a bunch of seemingly unrelated things: a funnel-shaped copper horn, a small porcelain jar filled with black powder, and a thin piece of iron.

"Jianguo, are you sure this thing will allow me to hear Fusu's voice?"

Ying Zheng picked up the small porcelain jar and shook it, making a rustling sound. "Isn't this the charcoal powder you had Zhao Gao burn? Do you expect me to swallow this charcoal powder so my voice will grow louder?"

"Your Majesty, this is called a 'carbon particle microphone'."

Wang Jianguo held a small pair of tweezers, carefully assembling another wooden box. He adjusted his glasses, made of finely polished glass, and explained without looking up:

"The essence of sound is vibration. When we speak, sound waves press against this metal plate (diaphragm), and the metal plate compresses the carbon particles behind it. As the carbon particles are compressed, the contact between them becomes tighter, and the resistance—that is, the resistance to the flow of current—decreases; conversely, the resistance increases."

Wang Jianguo stopped what he was doing and pointed to the black wire that was connected to the corner of the wall.

"In this way, the vibration of the sound becomes the fluctuation of the strength of the electric current. This fluctuating current travels along the wire to the Epang Palace, where there is an electromagnet in the receiver. It attracts the metal plate to vibrate according to the change of the current, thus restoring the sound."

Ying Zheng only vaguely understood what he was hearing, but he grasped the key points.

"So, all I have to do is speak into this speaker, and my voice will turn into electricity, travel along the wires, and then turn back into sound?"

"Correct." Wang Jianguo snapped his fingers. "It goes a step further than a telegram. A telegram transmits words, this transmits the soul—no, the tone and manner of the voice."

"Little G," Ying Zheng called out in his mind.

[Yes, Brother Zheng.]

Was this thing common in later generations?

[Very common. In my database, this thing is called a 'telephone.' Its emergence completely changed the way humans manage things. Before, if you issued an order, even if it was delivered by fast horse, it would take half a day to reach the destination, and the messenger might make a mistake, be drunk, or be carried off by a wolf. With this, your will can reach you at lightning speed. This is called 'flat management.']

"Flattening..." Ying Zheng chewed on the word. "I like this word. By flattening out all those twists and turns, I can directly grasp the pulse of the world."

At this moment, Zhao Gao ran in, panting, carrying a finely crafted wooden box that had already been assembled and coated with clear varnish.

"Your Majesty! Imperial Advisor! The line on my end is connected!" Zhao Gao said with a boastful expression, but his eyes still betrayed a hint of fear of the unknown. "I personally climbed the telephone pole to connect the line to the Epang Palace. To test if it was working, I even... I licked it with my tongue. It felt tingly, so it's definitely connected!"

Wang Jianguo's lips twitched slightly: "Jiaohou, next time use a meter, not your tongue. Even though it's only 12 volts, no one will compensate you if you get electrocuted."

"Alright, enough nonsense." Ying Zheng waved his hand, pointing to the wooden box. "I'm going to test it now. Connect to Fusu."

The terrifying moment at the Epang Palace

The President's Office at Epang Palace University.

Although it bears the sign of "university", the atmosphere here is more like a hybrid of a giant advanced technical school and a Confucian academy.

Fusu was kneeling before the desk, his brow furrowed as he reviewed the semester's financial statements.

"These Mohist students are too extravagant!" Fusu rubbed his temples and complained to Chunyu Yue beside him, "Last month, they burned down three classrooms while doing the 'pinhole imaging' experiment; this month, they ripped the roof off the lab while doing the 'chemical reaction' experiment. If Father knew how much money they're spending like water..."

Chunyu Yue stroked his beard with an air of composure: "Young Master, the Imperial Advisor said that the path to science is paved with money. As long as no one dies, it is a victory."

Just as the two were sighing, a strange wooden box on the corner of the table suddenly emitted a piercing, metallic noise.

"Ding-ling-ling—!!! Clang-clang—!!!"

The sound came without warning, sharp and urgent, like a thunderclap in a quiet room.

"An assassin?!"

Fusu reacted swiftly. As the eldest son of the Qin Emperor, although he was currently majoring in education, his martial arts skills had not diminished. He leaped up, drew his long sword from his waist, and stood protectively in front of Chunyu Yue.

"Protect the libationer!"

The guards outside rushed in, swords drawn, looking around: "Where's the assassin?!"

However, the room was empty, except for the wooden box that was shaking and screaming wildly.

"What...what is this?" Chunyu Yue was so frightened that his mustache stood on end. "Could it be a time bomb made by the Mohists?"

Fusu stared at the box. It was personally delivered by Zhao Gao a couple of days ago, saying it was a new toy bestowed upon him by his father, the emperor, and strictly ordered to be placed on the table, not to be touched or opened.

"Ding-ling-ling—"

The sound was still ringing out, like an impatient ghost urging someone to die.

Fusu mustered his courage and gently pried open the lid of the box with the tip of his sword (according to the instructions left by Zhao Gao, this was called "answering the call").

The shrill ringing stopped abruptly.

A deathly silence returned to the room.

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment, while Chunyu Yue peeked out from behind a pillar.

Fusu swallowed hard, leaned closer to the funnel-shaped bronze trumpet, and tentatively asked:

"What...what kind of demon is this?"

The next second, a majestic, deep voice, accompanied by a distinct electrical crackling, boomed out from the brass speaker, as if the speaker were right next to Fusu's ear:

"Fusu! What are you doing? You've been dawdling for ages and haven't answered!"

Clang!

The sword in Fusu's hand fell to the ground.

He knew that voice all too well. It was the source of his fear since childhood, the voice that would make him stand at attention even in his dreams.

Father?!

But Father Emperor is clearly in Xianyang Palace, thirty miles away!

Could it be... could it be that Father has already mastered the legendary "Thousand-Mile Voice Transmission"? Or... could it be that Father has already ascended to immortality and is now omnipresent?

puff.

Without any hesitation, Fusu's knees buckled, and he prostrated himself before the wooden box.

"Father, spare me! Your son... Your son didn't know it was Your Majesty! Your son thought it was a mechanical beast from the Mo family that had come to life! Your son deserves to die!"

When Chunyu Yue saw that even the eldest prince had knelt, although he hadn't heard what the box had said, the imperial aura was undeniable. He too knelt down with a thud, not daring to raise his head.

For a moment, inside the principal's room of the Epang Palace, a group of people were kowtowing repeatedly to a wooden box, creating an extremely bizarre scene.

"Hands-free" communication that transcends time and space

Xianyang Palace, Imperial Study.

Ying Zheng held a listening device (which was actually a simple carbon microphone with a wooden handle) in his hand, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

Because what came through the receiver wasn't Fusu's report, but a series of muffled thuds and Fusu's tearful pleas for mercy.

"What is he doing?" Ying Zheng asked Wang Jianguo. "Is that thumping sound him demolishing a house?"

Wang Jianguo listened intently and couldn't help but chuckle: "Your Majesty, it sounds like the eldest son is... kowtowing. The sound alone is painful; it must be from the solid wood floor."

"Kowtowing?" Ying Zheng chuckled in exasperation. "Kowtowing to a box? Have you wasted all your education?"

Ying Zheng took a deep breath and roared into the microphone:

"Stand up! I'm not dead, no need for such a grand gesture!"

The Epang Palace area.

Fusu shuddered when he heard his father's angry roar coming from inside the box.

"Yes! Your son has stood up!" Fusu scrambled to his feet, but because he had knelt so hard, his legs were a little numb, and he almost fell again. He still didn't dare to look directly at the box, but just stood in front of it with his hands down and his head bowed, like a schoolboy who had done something wrong.

"Take that handle! Put it on your ear!" the voice inside the box continued to command.

Fusu picked up the wired receiver with trembling hands and carefully placed it on his ear.

"Can you hear me?" Ying Zheng's voice was much clearer, although there was still some static, as if his father was speaking with sand in his mouth.

"I can hear you! Father's voice is like thunder in my ears!" Fusu answered loudly, afraid that his voice would not carry if he was too soft.

"Keep your voice down! I'm not deaf!" Ying Zheng held the receiver a little further away on the other end. "I'm asking you, what's going on with this month's financial statements? Why is the glass loss fee at the Mohist Academy so high?"

Fusu was taken aback.

At that moment, the fear of the "ghost box" suddenly dissipated considerably, replaced by a familiar sense of oppression, as if being checked on.

It turns out it wasn't a ghost story, nor did my father become an immortal.

This is the Emperor checking up on us!

"Reporting to...Reporting to Father Emperor," Fusu quickly got into work mode, his mind racing, "It's because the Mohists are developing a new optical instrument, the one the Grand Preceptor mentioned...a microscope. The scrap rate is a bit high, and I have already ordered them to rectify it."

"Hmm. Microscopes are a big deal, and the necessary money should be spent, but we can't waste it." Ying Zheng's tone softened a bit. "Also, regarding that project called 'electromagnetic coils,' Zhao Gao said he's short-handed over there. Could you send a few clever students over?"

"Yes, Your Majesty! I will take care of it immediately!"

"Alright, hang up now."

"Uh... Father, how do we hang it? Do we hang the box on the wall?"

"...Put the receiver back in! Put the cap back on!"

"promise!"

With a "click," the communication was cut off.

Fusu slumped in a chair, covered in sweat, feeling as if he had just escaped death.

Chunyu Yue leaned closer, looking at the wooden box with awe: "Young Master, His Majesty... this is divine magic! He can scold people like they're his grandsons from thirty miles away. We're afraid our lives are going to be tough from now on."

Fusu wiped the sweat from his brow and gave a wry smile: "Chancellor, times have changed. Don't even think about slacking off anymore; Father Emperor lives in this box."

The "yellow" waste of a business genius

Xianyang Palace.

Ying Zheng put down the receiver, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

"A fine thing. Truly a fine thing." Ying Zheng stroked the wooden box. "With this, I can sit in Xianyang and hear the wind howling at the Great Wall and the waves crashing in Lingnan. Jianguo, can this thing be made widely available?"

"Technically, there's no problem, as long as we have enough rubber tubing," Wang Jianguo said. "But currently, it's only point-to-point. If we want everyone to be able to talk to each other, we need a 'switchboard' and a lot of operators."

Just then, Liu Bang, who had been waiting outside the hall with his ear pressed against the crack in the door to eavesdrop, was summoned in.

"Liu Ji, did you hear what I just said?" Ying Zheng looked at this shrewd old rogue.

"I heard it! I heard it!" Liu Bang circled the telephone as soon as he entered the room, his eyes gleaming with greed—the kind of eyes that look like they'd spotted a mountain of gold. "Your Majesty, this isn't just a mouthpiece, it's a money tree!"

"Oh? Tell me, how do you shake the money?" Ying Zheng became interested.

Liu Bang rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "Your Majesty, think about it. What do the nobles and wealthy merchants in Xianyang lack most in their daily lives? Face! Prestige! And even more so... loneliness!"

"lonely?"

"That's right! Those wealthy merchants, their wives are back in their hometowns, while they run their businesses in Xianyang. In the dead of night, it's difficult to even speak a word to their wives. If they had this…" Liu Bang pointed to the telephone, "they'd be willing to spend a hundred coins, even just to hear their wives call them 'you bastard'!"

"That's only one reason," Liu Bang said, raising a second finger. "Secondly, intelligence. The marketplace is like a battlefield. If the price of rice has gone up over there, and our goods haven't even been shipped yet, knowing half a day in advance would be a fortune! They'd be willing to give up half their fortune for that one phone call!"

"Thirdly..." Liu Bang lowered his voice, a lewd smile spreading across his face, "Didn't the Imperial Advisor say he wanted to recruit operators? Let's find those palace maids with sweet voices who can sing to be operators. Set up a 'VIP Line.' Those纨绔子弟 (sons of wealthy families who are spoiled and dissolute), if they want to listen to music or want to talk to someone, they can call over, charged by the hour! Ten taels of silver for fifteen minutes, no bargaining!"

Wang Jianguo was stunned.

Isn't this just an early form of "telephone chat" and "voice information service"? Liu Bang's brain was truly born for shady businesses!

"Ahem!" Wang Jianguo interrupted Liu Bang's reverie. "Lord Liu, um... let's put the chat service on hold for now. Let's focus on our proper communications business first."

Ying Zheng, however, seemed quite interested in Liu Bang's proposal.

"Liu Ji, I am entrusting this 'Great Qin Telecommunications' to you. I don't care what methods you use, within three years, I will ensure that every county in Great Qin can hear my voice."

"Your Majesty, I obey!" Liu Bang was so excited he almost jumped up. "Rest assured, Your Majesty, I will empty the pockets of those wealthy people! I'll make them line up all the way to the Wei River just to get a telephone installed!"

Epilogue: The Invisible Web

Several months later.

A shop called "Daqin Telecom" appeared on the streets of Xianyang.

A long queue stretched out at the entrance, filled with wealthy merchants and nobles dressed in fine clothes.

"Get me one! I want the Supreme Gold Edition handset!"

"Me too! My home is in Sichuan, and I want to hear if my three-year-old son can call me 'Dad'!"

"I heard that if you install this, you can directly hear the grain prices in Xianyang? Quick! I'll pay any price!"

Meanwhile, in the back-end server room of "Daqin Telecom".

Dozens of palace maids, selected through rigorous screening and possessing sweet voices, are wearing headphones and busily plugging and unplugging plugs in front of rows of sockets.

"Hey? This is the Xianyang headquarters. Where would you like to connect?"

"Okay, you are being transferred to Lin Ran, please wait."

With his hands behind his back, Liu Bang patrolled the server room like a wealthy landlord, listening to the constant "hello, hello" sounds as if he were hearing gold coins falling into his pocket.

"Tsk tsk tsk, this business is faster than robbery," Liu Bang exclaimed.

And deep within the palace.

Ying Zheng stood before a huge map of the Qin Dynasty.

On the map, the red lines representing telephone lines are gradually extending outwards. They follow the Qin Straight Road, along the railways, over mountains and valleys, spreading towards the borders of the empire.

"Little G".

[Yes, Brother Zheng.]

"I used to think that building the Great Wall was just to enclose the Qin Dynasty," Ying Zheng said, looking at the red lines. "Now I understand. The real Great Wall wasn't made of bricks and stones; it was woven from these lines."

"As long as this net remains, the soul of the Qin Dynasty will remain."

Yes. But Brother Zheng, I also have to remind you of something.

"What?"

Since the telephone was installed, Prince Huhai has been calling Zhao Gao to complain 300% more frequently. Also, Prime Minister Li Si, angered by the harassing insurance sales calls (set up by Liu Bang) he's smashed three phone receivers in the middle of the night.

Ying Zheng was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"No problem! Let him pay for it if he breaks it! It'll generate revenue for the national treasury!"

Outside the window, several sparrows perched on the black power line, chirping and chattering, as if discussing why there were always people talking on this strange branch.

In this late autumn, the sound grew wings, flew over thousands of mountains and rivers, and tightly bound the entire Qin Dynasty together.