"I think of the Qin King wielding his sword, and all under heaven kneeling in submission..."
"It's hard to imagine that someone like him is actually from the same hometown as us."
"Sigh, stories are all lies. People like us lived busy, exhausting lives in peaceful times. How could we possibly rise so easily just because we changed worlds...?"
Many people stood atop high-rises as well, leaning against the railings and gazing into the distance.
At this time, those who could ascend such tall buildings were no ordinary people.
Just like those speaking now, they were transmigrators who had arrived in this world ten years ago.
Back when Gao Shou and Lu Xun had been granted marquisates, the imperial edict Zhao Cheng wrote had practically confirmed his identity as a transmigrator.
He simply did whatever he pleased.
When ordinary people transmigrated, they naturally had to hide their identities for dear life. But Zhao Cheng had carved out a nation—what grandeur was that? Who would dare harbor ill intent because of it?!
And precisely because they were all transmigrators, and had even shared an earlier gaming experience, they understood all too well how difficult it was to reach Zhao Cheng's current position after changing worlds.
In a world like this, in an age like this, there were simply too many unforeseen dangers. Even if one possessed knowledge ahead of the era, one misstep could still lead to death by accident.
Even without accidents, given their circumstances, achieving modest wealth was possible. Anything beyond that, however, was little more than a distant dream.
And that was assuming a relatively normal start.
Someone like Zhao Cheng, who had begun in the Chain Mountains—by all logic, he should have died on the spot.
The transmigrators had discussed this situation many times, and in the