Song Prefecture, Mystic Capital City.
It was the capital of the Great Xian Dynasty.
It was the Unity Day celebration, and the entire magnificent city was in a state of clamorous jubilation.
Between the towering buildings throughout the city, steam pipes hissed softly.
Long railcars wove back and forth through those pipelines.
Above those thick pipes, enormous airships drifted past the azure sky, trailing banners of every color for the celebration.
Beneath those great vessels, the bustling streets were packed shoulder to shoulder with an endless stream of people.
The waves of cheers that periodically erupted from the crowds seemed almost enough to overturn the entire ancient metropolis.
At the heart of this colossal city, deep within the Xian Dynasty's imperial palace, in an imperial garden.
Emperor Xianwu, Qiu Fangzheng, sat in a pavilion, discussing matters of the empire with his ministers.
His features were heroic and his bearing grave. Though he appeared middle-aged, his eyes held the depth accumulated over countless years, lending him considerable charm.
Around Qiu Fangzheng sat many high-ranking ministers, discussing the clearing of canal transport routes, overseas trade, and the promotion of new steam engines.
The atmosphere between ruler and ministers was harmonious. Though a few ministers occasionally held differing views, their disputes went no further than matters of policy.
"Your Majesty~"
An elderly minister reported, "The Unity Day ceremony is already more than halfway through. The people await you with upturned faces. Would Your Majesty care to proceed to the palace gates and speak a few words to your subjects, that they may behold Heaven's grace?"
Qiu Fangzheng gave a slight wave of his hand. "No hurry. Let the people celebrate a little longer."
The moment his words fell, his expression turned abruptly cold. The teacup in his hand silently crumbled into powder. "Xiaole