The Ming Emperor stood in silence, staring at the battlefield flickering across the screen.
There were no galloping warhorses, no warriors charging into formation.
Instead, massive iron barrels far larger than any gun he knew slowly pivoted atop enormous ships.
No soldiers clashing shield against blade while shouting their courage.
Only hundreds of giant cannons flashing at once, hurling iron shells into the sky before they crashed down into the lines below, tearing the earth apart.
No fluttering banners.
A hundred ships formed ranks, black smoke spearing straight into the heavens.
This was not a battlefield he recognized.
After a long while, as the vision gradually dimmed, he finally spoke, half sighing, half questioning himself.
"Those things look like great general cannons… but dozens of times larger. Could their power really be a thousand times greater?"
"And those ships…"
Here the Ming Emperor's thoughts tangled even further.
If those fire-spitting weapons could still be compared to guns, then the things called battleships were simply beyond imagination.
Ships cast from iron that did not sink?
Ships with neither oars nor sails?
At last he turned and exclaimed with genuine admiration,
"My lady truly called it. Guns can still be made sharper."
But Empress Ma did not look pleased. She frowned and asked instead,
"This world war… is it truly what we think it is?"
"And that young man called it the first. Does that mean there were second and third ones?"
Even the emperor inhaled sharply at that.
Instinctively, he reasoned the way scholars traced the evolution of arms from the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors onward.
"When Qin lost the Mandate, the struggle was only for the Central Plains.
When Sui collapsed, war burned across north and south."
"When the Mongols rose, their whips struck west and south alike, conquering lands beyond counting. Could it be that in the future…"
Zhu Yuanzhang's feelings tangled into a knot.
When he eventually found Luo Guanzhong, would he hope to prove this screen's visions true…
or pray they were nothing more than tricks of spirits meant to fool men?
---
Zhao Guangyi, meanwhile, was in an equally complicated mood.
The glowing screen had mocked him before, but this was the first time it had bluntly called him an idiot.
He wanted to argue.
He just did not know where to begin.
From a purely military perspective, his crushing defeat at the Gaoliang River and the farcical ending of the Yongxi Northern Campaign really would look humiliating beside the achievements of his elder brother, Emperor Taizong of Tang, Emperor Liu Bei, or Zhuge Liang.
Still… being insulted like that…
Not even his own chief ministers dared speak to him that way.
He clenched his right hand without thinking.
The prayer beads snapped under the pressure, scattering across the floor.
Immediately, smack.
A sharp blow landed on his head.
"Clean that up at once. If someone slips on those and gets hurt, you will answer for it."
The furious former Prince of Jin instantly transformed into the meek monk Kongjiong, bowing his head as he bent down to gather the beads one by one.
While crouched there, he heard his brother ask casually,
"You really do not understand what it means, 'if you are going to fight, fight to finish'?"
Though no name was spoken, Zhao Guangyi knew perfectly well the question was for him.
All the famous battles he had ever read about flooded into his mind.
But before he could answer, his brother sighed.
"Never mind. Foolish of me to ask you. If you understood, you would not have secretly practiced driving donkey carts."
"Knowing is easy. Doing is hard. Nothing proves it more."
Zhao Guangyi wanted to defend himself.
But hearing that sigh, he found himself speechless.
Then his brother turned to Zhao Pu and said,
"I once read Du Mu's Treatise on War and Treatise on Defense. They were greatly enlightening, yet the man himself never commanded troops. That proves military theory still has value."
"In that case, we should still compile the Seven Military Classics."
"But make it clear. Anyone who has never seen battle must never command an army."
Still bent over, Zhao Guangyi suddenly had a thought pop into his head.
Wait.
Wasn't the Seven Military Classics compiled by imperial order from… me?
---
Inside Ganlu Hall, Empress Zhangsun watched with a smile as her husband straightened his sleeves and stepped forward with one hand on his waist.
The ministers showered him with praise.
The emperor looked around, thoroughly pleased with himself.
So Empress Zhangsun quietly shifted aside, gave the Yan brothers a glance, and pointed into the hall.
"Could you paint this scene?"
Yan Lide looked troubled.
Yan Liben's eyes lit up immediately.
No wonder Li Shimin felt satisfied.
Never mind Xu Da, Chang Yuchun, or Qi Jiguang of the Ming.
Just comparing him and Li Jing to Wei Qing and Huo Qubing of the Former Han was already enough to please him immensely.
Yuchi Jingde and Qin Qiong also felt their faces glow with pride, straightening their chests.
The emperor was a master of war. Everyone knew it.
That he commanded generals like them was something history itself would remember.
How could that not be a fine tale?
For the two of them especially, the later saying on the screen resonated deeply.
There is no tactic that cannot be broken, only will that cannot be crushed.
Was the emperor skilled in strategy?
A master of battlefield momentum strikes like thunder and wind, moves after the enemy yet arrives first, changes without pattern, defeats with speed.
How could such a man not understand strategy?
To unite countless wills into one, to wield fierce generals as the blade's edge, to shatter the enemy's plans and crush their cleverness. That was victory through momentum.
So the saying was practically written for him.
Amid the chorus of congratulations, the image of a hundred warships firing in unison burst onto the screen.
For the officials in Ganlu Hall, this was not their first glimpse of future battlefields.
The Battle of Incheon on the Korean Peninsula and the hellish scenes shown earlier during the discussion of artillery had both been even more shocking.
So Du Ruhui immediately peered upward, studying the clouds.
"Where is the thing called the airplane?"
Others, however, still felt the shock of a thousand years collapsing straight into their eyes.
For some, like Chu Suiliang seeing it for the first time, even the brush pen slipping from his hand went unnoticed.
Li Shimin still had the leisure to explain things to his equally astonished empress.
"When strong ships and powerful guns combine, they can dominate the seas. A nation may lie ten thousand li away, but once it nears the coast, it must face bombardment. Then it can be invaded and seized."
"This is likely why world wars happen. When ten thousand li can be crossed in a matter of weeks, ambition is bound to grow. Nations will try to imitate the Mongols and conquer the world."
After finishing his explanation, Li Shimin himself sighed.
"The Ottoman Empire… I recall it claims descent from the Turks and boasted eight generations of wise rulers."
"Yet even such a state could not escape destruction, wiped from the map in this world war."
"The later ages are truly difficult. I must strive harder and leave more strength for Tang's descendants."
---
[Lightscreen]
[The Southern Song's foolishness was not limited to civil officials squabbling out of spite. It also lay in their suspicion of Sichuan.
During the Kaixi Northern Campaign, Wu Xi defected to Jin and tried to establish himself as ruler. Though he was killed within a month by loyalists and the rebellion suppressed, after Han Tuozhou was assassinated, voices in court began suggesting that Sichuan be abandoned altogether.
They argued that even relying only on the southeast, the Song could still defend itself.
It was short-sighted to the extreme.
No one at the time dared openly agree, of course.
But from the Kaixi campaign onward, the Southern Song's distrust toward Sichuan became plainly visible.]