I will make Qin Shi Huang immortal in the Great Qin Dynasty.

The craftsmen looked at each other in bewilderment.

Cao Cao? What kind of name is that?

It sounds like the pronunciation of a person's name, but I've never heard of any famous sword named Cao Cao.

Some people scratched their heads, while others muttered "Cao Cao" twice, still looking confused.

But no one questioned it further; the name chosen by the Imperial Advisor must have its reasons.

"Three days," Qin Tian held up three fingers, "Can it be built in three days?"

The head craftsman pondered for a moment, then nodded emphatically: "Yes, Your Majesty. Rest assured, we will do our utmost to forge a sword worthy of His Majesty within three days."

Three days is not a long time for a meticulously forged sword.

But the craftsmen were all experts, with decades of experience in weapon processing and forging.

Steel produced in a blast furnace has a uniform texture and few impurities, making it an excellent material for swords.

All that's needed are the subsequent processes of forging, quenching, polishing, and sheathing. As long as the process is streamlined and the time is arranged reasonably, it can be completed in three days.

Qin Tian nodded. He believed in the craftsmanship of these artisans. They were the top metal processing experts of their time, but they hadn't encountered suitable raw materials and technology before.

Now that they have high-quality steel and waterwheel-driven forging hammers, what they make will be no worse than any mass-produced weapon in later generations.

three days later.

When Qin Tian returned to the industrial area, the craftsmen were already waiting at the workshop entrance, holding the new sword.

The sword lay quietly in a long wooden box covered with dark silk. The scabbard was dark black, its surface polished with fine wood grain and inlaid with silver-white metal threads that formed simple and smooth geometric patterns.

The hilt was made of fine hardwood, wrapped with dark silk ribbons, and a jade ring with a warm, smooth texture hung at the end, similar in style to the swords that Ying Zheng usually used.

Qin Tian reached out and picked up the sword.

He slowly drew the sword from its sheath, its blade honed to an extremely sharp edge.

The surface of the sword has been repeatedly polished and refined to a mirror-like finish, reflecting the contours of a human face. It also features water-like patterns, which are traces left from repeated folding and layering during forging. These patterns serve as both decoration and proof of the uniformity of the steel.

Qin Tian held the sword up to his eyes, examined the blade carefully against the light for a while, and then gently flicked the blade with his finger, producing a clear and melodious long sound.

"What a fine sword." Qin Tian exclaimed sincerely, then sheathed the sword, closed the wooden box, picked it up, and with a leap, flew into the sky.

He flew all the way to the palace and landed in the square outside Zhangtai Palace.

The guards at the door bowed to the Imperial Preceptor without asking any further questions.

Qin Tian carried the wooden box through the corridor and headed straight for the side hall where Ying Zheng usually handled state affairs.

The eunuch standing at the palace gate saw Qin Tian arrive and hurriedly went inside to announce his arrival. A moment later, he ran out and bowed, saying, "Grand Preceptor, please come in. His Majesty is waiting inside."

Qin Tian entered the hall, where Ying Zheng was sitting behind his desk reviewing memorials.

He looked up and saw the long wooden box in Qin Tian's arms. His gaze flickered slightly, and he put down the memorial in his hand and stood up.

"Brother Zheng," Qin Tian placed the wooden box on the table, opened the lid to reveal a long, jet-black sword inside, "I used the first batch of steel to forge a sword for you. It's called Cao Cao."

Ying Zheng's gaze fell on the sword, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

He walked to the table, extended his right hand, and grasped the hilt of the sword.

He drew his sword from its sheath, and the blade flashed a cold, clear light in the candlelight of the hall.

Ying Zheng lightly scraped the edge of the sword blade with his thumb.

He didn't test it with force, but he knew that this sword was far sharper than his previous bronze sword.

He gripped the hilt of his sword and casually swung it, the blade drawing an arc in the air.

"A fine sword."

He hung the sword at his waist, adjusted its angle and height so that it fit perfectly against the side of his body.

The sword was indeed astonishingly long. Yet, it didn't look out of place on his nearly two-meter-tall frame. Instead, it exuded a unique and majestic aura, perfectly complementing his imperial majesty.

Ying Zheng glanced down at the sword at his waist, then looked up at Qin Tian, ​​his tone tinged with inquiry: "Grand Preceptor, I remember you mentioned 'Cao Cao's sword at your waist' the first time we met. This isn't the first time. What does it mean that this sword is called Cao Cao? Cao Cao sounds like a person's name."

Qin Tian finally couldn't hold back.

He stood there, looking at the enormous, 1.6-meter-long sword at Ying Zheng's waist, and the jokes made by netizens in later generations came to mind.

He finally burst out laughing.

Ying Zheng frowned slightly as he watched him laugh so hard he was doubled over, but the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved into a slight smile.

He stood in the hall with an air of imperial authority, waiting for Qin Tian to finish laughing so he could explain.

Qin Tian laughed so hard he could barely breathe, and it took him a while to finally straighten up: "Brother Zheng, we have a joke from our future lives—"

Ying Zheng tilted his head slightly, signaling him to continue.

"It is said that the First Emperor Qin Shi Huang was nearly two meters tall, while a later warlord named Cao Cao was only 1.6 meters tall. Later, it was discovered that the sword at His Majesty's waist was also exactly 1.6 meters long."

Ying Zheng's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he remained silent.

"So later generations of netizens joked that—Qin Shi Huang had a Cao Cao hanging from his waist."

After Qin Tian finished speaking, he looked at the long sword that Ying Zheng had just hung up at his waist, and couldn't help but laugh so hard he bent over.

He felt that he might never escape the joy of this meme in his lifetime. As long as Brother Zheng had that 1.6-meter-long Cao Cao sword hanging at his waist, he would probably burst out laughing every time he saw it.

Ying Zheng stood in the hall, looked at the sword at his waist, and then at the Grand Preceptor who was laughing so hard he was almost squatting on the ground.

Then he laughed too.

He looked down at the sword and thought about how his body, paired with this 1.6-meter-long sword, would probably look quite imposing in the eyes of later generations. Cao Cao, who was only 1.6 meters tall, was thus forever hung on his waist by later generations in this way.

He reached out and gently stroked the scabbard.

"You people of later generations are quite...amusing." Ying Zheng's smile faded, and he regained the composure befitting an emperor. "From this day forward, this sword will be called Cao Cao. I will have it recorded in the historians—'In the thirty-seventh year of the First Emperor's reign, he received a sword presented by the Imperial Advisor, six feet long, named Cao Cao.'"

He paused, his gaze landing on Qin Tian's face, a mischievous glint in his eyes: "I wonder if the Great Qin will truly produce another warlord named Cao Cao in the future. If such a Cao Cao does emerge, I wonder what he would think if he heard that his name was once worn on my waist."

Qin Tian chuckled again upon hearing this.

He knew that Ying Zheng was not just joking; this emperor of all ages was always deep in thought, and his words often contained seven or eight layers of meaning.

This seemingly casual remark reveals both a sense of感慨 about a connection that transcends time and space between himself and future generations, and also subtly reveals a true emperor's attitude towards "history" itself.

He was saying, "I am alive, I have Cao Cao's sword, and those absurd things that would have happened later will not happen."

"Don't worry, Brother Zheng," Qin Tian said, his smile fading. "That ambitious warlord named Cao Cao probably won't even be born. Even if he were, by the time he grows up, the Qin flag will be flying over some other planet, and he probably won't be able to cause any trouble."

Ying Zheng nodded slightly, sat back down behind the desk, and reached out to play with the hilt of the sword at his waist, as if to feel the different texture from bronze.

After chatting for a while, Qin Tian got up to say goodbye.

Before leaving, he glanced one last time at the sword at Ying Zheng's waist, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily curled up again.

Ying Zheng sat alone in the hall, looking down at the 1.6-meter-long sword at his waist. He tapped the scabbard lightly with his fingers, and the smile on his lips lingered for a long time.