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

"The toilet is no good."

Zhang Ying slammed the disposable chopsticks on the table and pointed to the two-story building not far away.

"That's my bottom line. If you dare touch my toilet, I'll blow up this island and we'll all feed the fish."

Ying Zheng was taken aback by the sudden murderous aura.

He glanced at Zhang Ying, then at the small building that looked particularly mysterious in the night.

It is something that could make an immortal value it so much, even to the point of threatening to destroy the island.

That thing called a "toilet" must be a magical artifact used to suppress one's luck!

"Alright." Ying Zheng took a deep breath and stepped back. "The toilet won't move. But the others..."

"We'll talk about the rest later," Zhang Ying interrupted him. "Let's eat first."

At this point, the beach was in complete chaos.

Thousands of piping hot roasted sweet potatoes were distributed.

The Qin soldiers held the dark clods of earth as if they were holding freshly baked embers, their hands flailing and their mouths hissing as they writhed in pain.

Meng Tian tore off the charred skin.

An intensely sweet aroma, almost tangible, exploded in the air.

That tastes like sugar.

In an era when honey was a luxury and maltose was only for the nobility, the sugar content of sweet potatoes, as high as 20%, was nothing short of a nuclear explosion for the taste buds.

Meng Tian took a bite.

Hot, soft, and sweet.

The rough-looking man trembled, and two streams of hot tears flowed down his face without warning.

"sweet……"

Meng Tian choked up, then took another big bite, not caring that it would burn his mouth.

"It's so sweet..."

The soldiers around them were even more ravenous, some swallowing the skins whole, some licking the syrup off their fingers, and some nearly fighting over the sweet potato scraps that had fallen on the ground.

The sound of weeping filled the air.

That was the line of defense breached by happiness.

"Crying already?" Zhang Ying looked at the group of extras who were overacting and shook her head helplessly. "It's just a roasted sweet potato. Why are you acting like you've eaten a ginseng fruit?"

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shook one out, and put it in his mouth.

The sea breeze is a bit strong.

Zhang Ying turned to the side and took out a windproof lighter.

"Click".

A crisp metallic clang.

A cluster of bluish flames suddenly appeared inside the windproof cover and remained motionless in the gale.

The entire room fell silent.

The soldiers, who had been crying and wailing while eating sweet potatoes, suddenly looked like ducks with their necks being choked.

The half-eaten sweet potato in Meng Tian's hand fell onto the beach with a "plop".

His eyes widened as he stared intently at the ball of fire in Zhang Ying's hand.

There are no fire folding tools.

There is no flint.

There wasn't even any kindling.

The man just pressed that metal lump, and the fire started?

"Palm...Palm Thunder?" Meng Yi asked, trembling.

"What palm-sized grenade? It's a windproof lighter, two dollars each."

Zhang Ying leaned over, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

He pressed it again.

The fire is extinguished.

Press it again.

Fire breaks out.

This ability to control fire at will was, in the eyes of the Qin people, even more terrifying than the mythical Zhu Rong.

Ying Zheng stared intently at the lighter.

Shortness of breath.

Pupil earthquake.

If every soldier in the Qin army could have one of these items...

Night raids, arson, even lighting beacon fires in torrential rain...

What a strategic advantage that would be!

"Sir!" Ying Zheng suddenly grabbed Zhang Ying's wrist with such force that he almost knocked the cigarette out of Zhang Ying's hand.

"This treasure... what is its name?"

"A lighter." Zhang Ying pulled her hand back, shaking it dismissively. "Didn't I just say that?"

"I want it!"

Ying Zheng ripped off the lustrous, translucent jade pendant carved with a coiled dragon from his waist and slammed it heavily onto the table.

"This was made from a scrap of the He Shi Bi jade. It has been with me for thirty years. It can ward off evil spirits and nourish one's vital energy."

Ying Zheng pushed the jade pendant in front of Zhang Ying, his eyes filled with fanaticism.

"I'll give you the fire!"

Li Si and Meng Yi gasped in shock.

That's His Majesty's personal jade pendant!

Seeing jade is like seeing you!

In the Qin Dynasty, this piece of jade could be exchanged for a city!

Zhang Ying glanced at the jade.

The workmanship is indeed excellent, with fine carving and translucent jade; it looks like an A-grade product.

"Sure." Zhang Ying casually tossed the nearly deflated lighter to Ying Zheng, grabbed the jade pendant and stuffed it into her pocket. "Anyway, I have plenty of these junks. You can take them and play with them if you like."

What a piece of junk?

Ying Zheng held the lighter, which still carried the warmth of Zhang Ying's body, as if it were a priceless treasure.

He imitated Zhang Ying and pressed down carefully.

"Click".

Flames shot up.

Ying Zheng was startled, his hand trembled, and he almost burned his beard.

But he smiled.

He laughed wildly and unrestrainedly, laughing until tears streamed down his face.

"A divine object...a divine object!"

"Meng Tian! Behold the fire in my palm!"

Ying Zheng held up a lighter, like a child showing off a new toy, and pressed it repeatedly in front of Meng Tian.

Meng Tian knelt on the ground, trembling, not daring to look directly at the "heavenly fire".

Zhang Ying felt a chill run down her spine as she watched this scene.

This film crew...

The props were real (the jade pendant looked quite authentic), and the acting was so convincing that even a two-dollar lighter could be made into such a dramatic performance.

What's the point?

"Alright, stop playing with fire, or you'll wet the bed."

Zhang Ying pulled a case of dark, bottled beverages from under the table.

Those were the "soda" he had stockpiled during his last resupply.

"After eating so many potatoes and sweet potatoes, aren't you afraid of choking?"

Zhang Ying unscrewed a bottle and handed it to Ying Zheng, who was still playing with fire.

"Have some of this to calm your nerves."

Ying Zheng took the bottle.

It feels cold to the touch.

The bottle is made of transparent "glass" material, filled with a dark brown liquid that is constantly bubbling up.

"This is..." Ying Zheng looked warily at the churning black water.

"Poison." Zhang Ying rolled her eyes. "Arsenic mixed with arsenic, a cure for the emperor's illness."

Ying Zheng ignored his taunts.

Since it was bestowed by an immortal, even if it is poison, it is immortal poison.

He tilted his head back, aimed at the bottle opening, and took a big gulp.

next second.

Ying Zheng's expression froze.

Countless tiny bubbles burst in his mouth, as if countless tiny brushes were scrubbing his tongue.

Immediately afterwards, a domineering sweetness mixed with some strange medicinal smell rushed straight to the top of my head.

That's the extreme lethality of carbon dioxide.

"belch--!!!"

A long, earth-shattering burp erupted from the throat of this emperor who would be remembered for all time.

The sound echoed across the beach.

It even drowned out the sound of the waves.

Ying Zheng clutched his chest, his face filled with terror.

He felt a surge of energy rushing through his body, which finally turned into a long burp and was expelled, taking away all the indigestion and heat.

Transparent!

readily!

"This black water..." Ying Zheng looked at the bottle in his hand, a strange light flashing in his eyes, "It can actually expel the turbid energy from my body?"

"Fine wine! Even stronger than the strongest wine in the Qin Dynasty!"

Seeing this, Wang Ben also grabbed a bottle and gulped down half of it in one go.

then.

"belch--!!!"

"belch--!!!"

One hiccup after another echoed from the table.

The four most powerful men in the Qin Dynasty sat around a bonfire, holding Coke bottles, burping one after another.

The scene was so beautiful I almost couldn't bear to look.

Zhang Ying covered her face, unwilling to admit that she knew this group of people.

"gentlemen."

After burping, Ying Zheng wiped the black liquid from the corner of his mouth, his expression suddenly becoming extremely serious.

He stood up and bowed deeply to Zhang Ying.

This was the most solemn ceremony of the Qin Dynasty.

"I have a request."

"Speak," Zhang Ying said, gnawing on a chicken wing without looking up.

"I intend to build a palace on the island," Ying Zheng said, pointing to the potato field. "I also want to build roads and a port to transport these auspicious omens back to Qin."

"But there isn't enough manpower on the island."

Ying Zheng turned his head and looked at the dark mass of troops.

"My 300,000-strong army consists entirely of skilled craftsmen."

"I'm leaving them... all to you."

"We'll farm for you, dig potatoes for you, and build roads for you."

"As long as you provide meals, sir..." Ying Zheng paused, his gaze fixed intently on the Coke bottle in Zhang Ying's hand.

Zhang Ying dropped the chicken wing in her hand.

He looked at the endless sea of ​​heads.

Three hundred thousand?

Has this film crew gone mad?

With so many extras, how much does it cost to buy boxed meals every day?