I started on a deserted island and encountered Ying Zheng, who insisted I was an immortal.

He dared not read the following passages, such as "700,000 convicts were convicted and forced to build a tomb at the foot of Mount Li" and "they were still collecting elixirs of immortality."

If this upsets Lao Ying and causes him to feel unwell, then his illness will flare up again, which would be troublesome.

To deal with someone who is so immersed in their role-playing that they can't extricate themselves, you have to go along with them.

Praise more, criticize less.

He had even received scam text messages before that said, "I am Qin Shi Huang, send me money," so he had some experience with that.

Ying Zheng was in high spirits when he saw that Meng Yi had recorded the poem word for word.

The frustration from Zhang Ying's blunt rebuke last night has now vanished.

This is the attitude that disciples of immortals should have.

"The weather's nice today, let's go fishing," Zhang Ying suggested.

The three leaders of the Qin Dynasty naturally nodded repeatedly.

The island's reservoir holds seven or eight hundred pounds of fish, more than they could possibly eat.

For Zhang Ying, fishing was purely a hobby and a pastime.

In the past, during holidays, he liked to find a reservoir in the countryside, sit quietly for a whole day, and enjoy the thrill of catching fish.

Now that this deserted island is located by the sea, it perfectly fulfills his wish to go sea fishing.

Fishing tools are all made from locally available materials.

The fishing rod is made of sharpened bamboo.

Fishing line is made from a type of tree bark that has been soaked in lime water and then repeatedly pounded and twisted into a thin rope. Although it is not as good as modern nylon line, it is still capable of catching fish weighing several tens of kilograms.

The fishhook is the most ingenious, made from the hardest barb of a barbed thorn ball.

Dig up some more earthworms, string them on a string, tie a small stone to them for added weight, and a simple fishing tackle set is complete.

Zhang Ying didn't have high expectations; she was happy as long as there was something to do on the deserted island.

The four arrived at an inland island reef connected to the sea and each found a flat rock to sit on.

Zhang Ying was lucky; not long after casting her line, the float suddenly sank.

With a flick of his wrist, he flung a lively sea bass up into the water.

Then, the second pole, the third pole...

Wang Ben, standing to the side, was so anxious that he scratched his head and cheeks.

His fish floated motionless on the surface of the water, showing no sign of even a small fish coming to peck at it.

Zhang Ying's bucket was almost full, and he was about to break his fishing rod in half.

"Sir, is there something wrong with your bait?" Wang Ben couldn't help but ask.

"Why are you the only one who can catch fish?"

Zhang Ying sat there, looking inscrutable.

"Jiang Taigong fishes, and those who are willing will take the bait."

He slowly uttered a sentence.

"You don't know anything."

Wang Ben choked until his face turned red.

Ying Zheng, however, became interested in the "Jiang Taigong" mentioned by Zhang Ying.

He put down his fishing rod and bowed in the direction of Zhang Ying.

"Young sir, is the Jiang Taigong you just mentioned the same Jiang Shang who assisted the Zhou dynasty in bestowing titles upon the gods?"

Zhang Ying didn't even look up, focusing intently on her fishing float.

Have you read "Investiture of the Gods"?

He casually asked a question in return.

Ying Zheng was taken aback, and Meng Yi, who was beside him, quickly explained in a low voice: "Your Majesty, what the gentleman is talking about may be some kind of immortal scripture."

Zhang Ying chuckled, thinking that these people were getting too into character.

"Isn't that Nezha, the brat who rides on wind-fire wheels and is covered in magical treasures, causing trouble everywhere?"

"And then there's his three-eyed senior brother, Erlang Shen."

"Oh right, there's also Lei Zhenzi, whose mouth looks like a bird's and who has wings on his back."

With each name Zhang Ying uttered, the three leaders of the Great Qin Dynasty stiffened a little more.

They had never heard of these names before.

But to them, these were clearly the names of the various immortals in the Celestial Court.

He rides on wheels of fire, is a three-eyed general, and has a bird-beaked thunder god.

How could ordinary people possibly imagine such a figure?

Only disciples of immortals can know the secrets of the celestial court!

The three exchanged a glance, each seeing an indescribable shock in the other's reaction.

Ying Zheng stood up, straightened his robes, and looked solemn.

He bowed deeply to Zhang Ying with utmost respect.

"May I ask, sir, who exactly are you?"

Zhang Ying was a little confused by his sudden seriousness.

He paused, thought for a moment, and decided to formally introduce himself so that these people wouldn't have to imagine things every day.

"Zhang Ying, the youngest Nobel laureate and professor of agriculture."

"..."

The cave was deathly silent.

Nobel?

Whose name is this? Which immortal being is it addressed as?

agriculture?

They did understand that.

professor?

What is this? Is it an official position in the Celestial Court? It sounds even more prestigious than "Shangqing" (a high-ranking official).

Meng Yi's attitude toward Zhang Ying became increasingly respectful.

Ying Zheng remembered that Zhang Ying had said when he was drunk, "The Qin Dynasty will only last for two generations."

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and asked in a low voice.

"The gentleman once said that our Great Qin...will not last long, this matter..."

Zhang Ying was taking something out of a ceramic jar.

Those were potato chips he made by slicing leftover potatoes into thin slices, deep-frying them, and then sprinkling them with salt and chili powder.

He grabbed a handful, threw them into his mouth, and they made a crunching sound.

He poured himself another glass of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) and leaned comfortably against the rock.

"Oh, that thing."

"The world was in chaos, and a nobleman from the State of Chu named Xiang Yu and a ruffian from Pei County named Liu Bang rose up in rebellion."

Zhang Ying took another swig of wine and smacked her lips.

In the end, the one named Liu Bang won and established the Han Dynasty.

"Speaking of which, Liu Bang was only three years younger than Ying Zheng, and he used to be just a minor village head. He managed to force Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, to slit his throat at the Wujiang River by sheer glibness and shamelessness."

Ying Zheng, Meng Yi, and Wang Ben were all dumbfounded.

This young man in front of me really has a knack for seeing the future!

Ying Zheng pressed further, "What happened next?"

"That's amazing!" Zhang Ying exclaimed, grabbing another handful of potato chips.

"Especially when Emperor Wu of Han came along, that guy was a man of great talent and ambition."

"He implemented the policy of 'suppressing all other schools of thought and exclusively honoring Confucianism,' which unified the thinking of all people."

"What's most impressive is that he produced a formidable figure under his command, named Huo Qubing."

Zhang Ying's voice rose in pitch.

"This guy was seventeen years old when he dared to lead eight hundred cavalrymen into the desert to kill the Xiongnu. He was the best in the army twice and was directly awarded the title of Marquis of Champion."

"At the age of nineteen, he commanded the Hexi Campaign, killing and recruiting nearly 100,000 Xiongnu, and even retrieved the golden statues used by the Xiongnu for their sacrificial rites, and took over the Qilian Mountains."

"Later, in the Battle of Mobei, we wiped out the main force of the Xiongnu Left Wise King, more than 70,000 men, and chased them all the way to the Xiongnu homeland. We held a sacrificial ceremony to the heavens at Langjuxu Mountain before it was over."

Ying Zheng's breathing quickened as he listened, his hands clenching tightly.

Huo Qubing!

Champion Marquis!

What a champion! Well deserved!

Wang Ben, standing next to him, had his dark face turn a deep purplish-red, and his fists were clenched so tightly they were cracking.

As a top military general of the Qin Dynasty, he couldn't stand anyone being better at fighting than him.

"I refuse to accept this!" Wang Ben roared. "If I were to encounter Huo Qubing, I would certainly challenge him to a duel!"

Zhang Ying glanced at him sideways and curled her lip in disdain.

"You? Forget it, you're not even worthy of carrying their shoes."

Wang Ben: "..."