Iron Body Pierces the City Wall, Moving Slowly; The People Peek Through Cracks, Filled with Fear

Outside the workshop gates, the Field Irrigation Machine wreathed in white steam was still hissing as it vented. Zhao Cheng watched the commoners wailing and fleeing in the distance, the dark crimson cloak over his shoulders lifting slightly in the morning breeze.

He turned to Meng Tian beside him and laughed. "Does this Field Irrigation Machine really look that terrifying?"

"A city-slaughtering demon beast? Hahahaha..."

Meng Tian had just emerged from the workshop, with a few flecks of coal dust still clinging to his Black Armor. Hearing this, he laughed heartily. "A-Cheng, have you forgotten? Back in Handan, even His Majesty was startled when he first saw these things.

"When something new first appears, it is bound to set people's hearts drumming.

"Once they see that this thing can help irrigate their fields and save them effort, they'll probably be fighting to use it instead."

As he spoke, he pointed to the chain buckets beneath the Field Irrigation Machine. "Look at these buckets—polished so smooth. Once it goes down to the river, each bucket will surely lift half a shi of water."

Zhao Cheng nodded and turned his gaze toward the workshop behind him.

For the past half month, he had practically taken up residence in the workshop. By day, he watched the Mohist Officials test and adjust the machinery; by night, he discussed blueprints with Qin Guli and the others. Even the training of the Blood-Clad Army had been handed over to Meng Tian.

The Mohist Officials of the Mohist Pavilion, together with more than three hundred craftsmen, had worked in shifts day and night. The pounding of hammers on anvils and the shrieking of steam had never ceased; even the moss in the corners of the walls had been shaken loose in layers.

Now, row upon row of