My Imperial Advisor is ChatGPT

Chapter 13 I don't want your eloquent writings, I want sows to produce a lot of eggs.

In early winter in Xianyang, the wind was biting, but the nauseating stench in the air had miraculously dissipated by most of it. In its place was a pungent smell of quicklime.

When Ying Zheng's discreet convoy entered the city gate, the sight that greeted him brought a rare hint of satisfaction to his perpetually icy face.

Along both sides of the street, every hundred steps there was a makeshift "public toilet" enclosed by wooden planks. Although rudimentary, for the Qin people who had been urinating and defecating anywhere for hundreds of years, this was practically alien technology. Even more shocking was that there were "sanitation patrol teams" wearing red armbands patrolling the streets.

Leading the group was none other than the current Prime Minister, Li Si.

At this moment, Li Si was no longer the dashing and refined gentleman he once was. His eyes were sunken, his beard disheveled, and he was pointing at a merchant spitting on the ground, roaring:

"Spit! Fine you fifty yuan! And you'll have to sweep the streets for half a day! What? You're the Left Chancellor's brother-in-law? Even if the Left Chancellor himself came, he'd have to lick that spit clean for me today!"

"Li Si".

A deep voice came from an inconspicuous carriage next to them.

Li Si shuddered; he would recognize that voice even if it were ashes. Ignoring the dust, he scrambled to the carriage, crying, "Your Majesty...Master! You're back!"

The carriage curtain was lifted slightly, revealing Ying Zheng's eyes, which seemed to be both smiling and not smiling.

"It seems that in the past few months, the Prime Minister has not only unclogged the sewers, but his temper has also become much milder."

Li Si, with a bitter expression, lowered his voice and said, "Your Majesty, you have no idea. This job is much harder than revising the laws. The people are ignorant; to get them to use the latrines, I had to move all the instruments of torture from the Court of Justice into the streets, and only then..."

"I don't care about the process, I only care about the result," Ying Zheng interrupted him. "Since no one is defecating indiscriminately anymore, has there been an outbreak of plague?"

"Your Majesty, although this autumn has been dry, there have only been sporadic cold spells in Xianyang. The widespread 'epidemic' that used to strike so hard in previous years has not occurred!" Li Si said, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. Although scavenging latrines had a bad reputation, the countless lives saved gave this Legalist believer a unique sense of accomplishment.

"Very good." Ying Zheng tossed out a bamboo slip. It was a habitual action; only after tossing it did he remember he now had paper. "Reward. Grant the Prime Minister the 'Great Qin Hygiene Medal' and a rank of nobility."

Li Si was overjoyed.

"Don't rush to express your gratitude." Ying Zheng changed the subject. "Get in the carriage. I'll take you somewhere. Also, shake off that smell of quicklime on you."

……

The carriage rumbled towards a newly built, magnificent building next to Xianyang Palace.

Above the gate plaque are five large characters personally inscribed by Ying Zheng: "Burning the midnight oil pavilion".

This place was the cultural hegemony base built by Ying Zheng using "Qin paper," and also a "devil's training camp" for scholars all over the world.

As soon as you enter the gate, a strong smell of ink mixed with a decadent, sour odor hits you.

In the spacious hall, hundreds of desks were densely packed together. The once arrogant Confucian scholars and famous figures from the six states were now disheveled, their eyes bloodshot, like soulless walking corpses, frantically writing on the snow-white Qin paper.

"Who is that?" Ying Zheng pointed to an old man in the corner who was writing and wiping away tears.

Li Si glanced at him, then coughed awkwardly, "Your Majesty, that is Chunyu Yue, a great Confucian scholar from Qi and Lu. He was the one who once directly contradicted Your Majesty and opposed the prefecture-county system."

"Oh, I remember him. What is he writing now? A new interpretation of the Spring and Autumn Annals?"

"No..." Li Si's expression was strange. "The topic he was assigned was... 'The Great Qin Composting Guide: How to Distinguish the Fertility Differences Between Pig Manure and Cow Manure'."

"puff--"

Standing behind Ying Zheng, Han Xin couldn't help but let out a soft, choked sound. He quickly covered his mouth, but the scene was simply too shocking. A Confucian scholar spouting classical phrases was studying excrement—it was more unbearable than death for him.

Ying Zheng, however, remained expressionless and strode over.

As Chunyu Yue was writing with deep emotion, he murmured to himself, "...Pig manure is cold in nature and fine in texture, much like the virtue of a gentleman, which nourishes things silently..."

A hand reached out and snatched the paper from in front of him.

"Rewrite it," Ying Zheng said coldly.

Chunyu Yue looked up abruptly, about to erupt in anger, but upon recognizing the person who had entered, he was so startled that he dropped his pen: "Your...Your Majesty!"

"I've ordered you to write an agricultural book for farmers, not for Confucius!" Ying Zheng pointed to the sentences on the paper. "What does 'like the virtues of a gentleman' mean? What do farmers know about a gentleman? You should write: 'Pig manure is strong; it makes seedlings grow quickly, but don't use too much, or it will burn the seedlings!'"

"Did you understand? In plain language! If I see even half a word of classical Chinese again, I'll send you to live and eat with the pigs in the pigsty so you can personally experience what 'gentlemanly virtue' truly means!"

Chunyu Yue wept uncontrollably: "Your Majesty... you've lost all civility, you've lost all civility!"

"Can refinement fill an empty stomach?" Ying Zheng leaned down, his eyes like knives. "What Qin lacks right now is food, that's no nonsense. If you write this book well, Qin can harvest an extra 100,000 shi of grain next year, enough to feed ten thousand people. Isn't this the 'benevolence' that your Confucianism pursues?"

Chunyu Yue was stunned.

Looking into Ying Zheng's unquestionable eyes, he suddenly realized that this tyrant's logic... was damnably irrefutable.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty knows your crime. Your Majesty will correct it immediately." Chunyu Yue picked up the pen with trembling hands and wrote the opening words through gritted teeth: "Pig dung is a good thing..."

Ying Zheng nodded in satisfaction and turned to look at Han Xin, who was still in a state of shock.

"You find it funny?"

Han Xin quickly shook his head, his expression complex: "No. This humble subject... simply feels that Your Majesty's methods of governing the country are truly... unconventional."

"Little G," Ying Zheng muttered to himself, "give these bookworms something extra. Just writing books is too slow."

[Received, Your Majesty. Generating the proposal for the "First Qin Dynasty Popular Science Essay Contest" for you.]

[First Prize: Lifetime free supply of Qin paper + Xianyang household registration.]

[Grand Prize: Awarded the title of "Great Qin Doctor" and provided with a carriage and horses.]

To improve efficiency, I suggest introducing an "assembly line writing method." One group will be responsible for researching, another for writing the outline, another for filling in the details, and finally, Li Si will be responsible for reviewing sensitive words.

Ying Zheng's lips curled slightly. An assembly line? Very well, treating scholars like craftsmen—that's so Qin Dynasty.

He turned to Li Si and said, "Send the order that these books be sent to the Imperial Household Department for printing immediately after they are finished. How is Zhao Gao's 'woodblock printing' project going?"

"Your Majesty, although Magistrate Zhao does not understand what 'living type' is, he has mastered carving the character for 'dead' on this wooden board without any instruction. The first batch of 'Three Thousand Commonly Used Characters of the Great Qin' has already been printed."

"Very well. Send them to schools in all the counties and prefectures of the empire." Ying Zheng's gaze was profound. "I want every child in the Qin Dynasty to not only be able to read, but also to understand how to farm, how to build bridges, and how to do accounting."

"This is the foundation for an everlasting dynasty."

……

After leaving the Burning Oven Pavilion, Ying Zheng did not return to the palace to rest, but instead took Han Xin directly to the office of the Minister of Agriculture.

This is the "Ministry of Finance" and "Logistics Department" of the Great Qin Dynasty.

The enormous warehouse was piled high with bamboo slips and newly made account books. Countless accountants were frantically counting with their counting rods, the noise as loud as rain pattering on banana leaves.

"Han Xin," Ying Zheng said, standing with his hands behind his back, observing the bustling scene, "you're always clamoring to lead troops. I ask you, what's the most important thing in leading troops?"

Han Xin had now changed into a clean set of Qin army captain's armor. Although he was still a "servant" without real power, his spirit and energy were completely different.

"It's a brilliant strategy, of course!" Han Xin's eyes gleamed. "To strike unexpectedly, to attack where they are unprepared. Just like the plan Your Majesty drew on the banks of the Huai River, to deploy troops with their backs to the river, placing them in a do-or-die situation!"

"wrong."

Ying Zheng coldly uttered a single word.

He walked to a huge table, picked up an account book, and tossed it to Han Xin.

"have a look."

Han Xin opened it with a puzzled look; inside were densely packed numbers: millet, hay, horseshoes, arrowheads, cloth...

"This is……"

"This is the consumption of Meng Tian's 300,000-strong army for a month." Ying Zheng's voice was frighteningly calm. "300,000 men, eating and feeding the horses. They consume 5,000 shi of grain and 10,000 bundles of hay every day. Transporting them from Xianyang to Shangjun is a distance of 1,500 li. If oxcarts are used, the people and animals will consume 60% of the food along the way. If there is rain or snow, the loss will be 80%."

"Your so-called ingenious plan is worthless in the face of these numbers."

Ying Zheng pointed at the strategists: "You think war is a flash of inspiration from a general on the battlefield? No. War is calculated."

"If you don't know how many days your provisions will last, how many arrows you have left, or how many miles your soldiers will have to march each day before they collapse from exhaustion, then your brilliant plan is nothing but suicide."

"Little G, teach him a lesson."

[Received. Loading "An Introduction to Modern Logistics: Tactics for Amateurs, Logistics for Professionals".]

Ying Zheng looked at Han Xin and repeated the cold voice in his mind: "Han Xin, I'm going to give you a question."

"If you were to lead an army of 50,000 to launch a surprise attack on the Xiongnu royal court, the journey would be 3,000 li (approximately 1,500 kilometers) through desert. How much food, water, and horses would you need to carry? If the water supply dries up along the way, and you have to kill horses to draw blood, how many days could that sustain you?"

Han Xin was stunned.

He frantically rehearsed battle formations in his mind, how to flank, how to charge. But he never considered... whether there was enough water.

He opened his mouth, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"I...your subject..."

"Can't figure it out?" Ying Zheng sneered. "If you can't figure it out, I won't dare give you the troops."

"From today onwards, you shall not carry that sword. Sit here with me, take the counting rods, and recalculate all the military ration accounts for the past ten years."

"Only when you can see through the trickery in this ledger at a glance, and only when you can calculate the food, drink, and sanitation needs of 50,000 troops, will I consider letting you take the military seal."

Han Xin's face flushed red. This was even more uncomfortable than crawling between someone's legs!

"What? You're not convinced?" Ying Zheng saw through his thoughts.

"Your Majesty... I dare not," Han Xin said through gritted teeth. "It's just that I think these trivial matters should be handled by the quartermaster..."

"The quartermaster?" Ying Zheng approached him, his voice low. "What if the quartermaster lies to you? What if the person in charge of supplies deliberately cuts off your rations for three days? Wouldn't your million-strong army mutini? Wouldn't they kidnap you, their commander, and force you to surrender?"

Han Xin was startled.

He thought of Xiang Yu. Xiang Yu was strong because the Xiang clan supported him wholeheartedly. He, Han Xin, however, was all alone. What if someone grabbed him by the throat…

"I'm teaching you how to save your life." Ying Zheng patted his shoulder. "Military strategy is tactics, logistics is the way. If you understand arithmetic, you won't be betrayed by your own people."

"Sit down. That's fine!"

Han Xin took a deep breath, looking at the mountain of account books. The arrogance in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a calm ruthlessness.

"Fine, I'll calculate it!" He plopped down, grabbed a handful of counting rods, and declared, "I will not only calculate, but I will calculate more accurately than these old officials!"

Ying Zheng turned and left with satisfaction.

A genius doesn't need to be taught how to fight; he only needs to be taught how to be grounded. Once Han Xin learned to respect numbers, he became a truly unstoppable demonic blade.

……

It was already late at night when they returned to Xianyang Palace.

Ying Zheng rubbed his temples wearily. That day, from hygiene and culture to military logistics, he had been spinning like a top.

But he couldn't stop. Because there was still a major hidden danger waiting for him to deal with.

"Hu Hai".

Ying Zheng entered the side hall.

This place, which was originally where Hu Hai used to have fun, is now eerily quiet.

There was no music, no cockfighting or dog racing.

The only sound was the turning of pages.

Hu Hai was kneeling before the table, holding a copy of "Elementary Logic and Critical Thinking" specially made by Ying Zheng (Little G) in his hands. Next to him was the "Zhao Gao Inventing Paper" experiment, which was covered with crooked and distorted characters.

Hearing footsteps, Hu Hai suddenly looked up. Seeing that it was his father, the emperor, he instinctively shrank back, a primal reaction born from years of accumulated power.

"Father...Father Emperor." Hu Hai quickly bowed.

Ying Zheng did not reprimand him as usual, but instead walked to the table and picked up the paper.

The question is written above:

[Topic: Teacher Zhao Gao said that a deer is a horse.]

【analyze:

1. Deer have antlers, horses do not (mostly).

2. Deer eat grass, and horses also eat grass (commonality cannot be used as evidence).

3. Why did Teacher Zhao Gao point at a deer and call it a horse?

3.1 Assumption A: He is blind. (Probability: Low)

3.2 Assumption B: He is testing who listens to him. (Probability: High)

Conclusion: This is not a biological issue; it's a political issue.

Ying Zheng's pupils contracted slightly as he looked at the "conclusion".

He turned to look at Hu Hai. This son, whom he had previously seen as having the intelligence of a three-year-old and only capable of silly laughter, now had a hint of... cunning in his eyes?

Or rather, the wisdom born of fear.

"Did you come up with this?" Ying Zheng asked.

Hu Hai swallowed hard. "It's...it's what my father taught me in a book. The book says, 'Don't look at what others say, look at why they say it.'"

"Very good." Ying Zheng sat down. "Then let me ask you, if Zhao Gao were standing in front of you now, pointing at a deer and saying it was a horse, what would you do?"

Hu Hai hesitated for a long time, his eyes flickering.

"Your subject... Your subject will check whether Father is present first."

"If Father were here, it would be a deer. If Father were not here..." Hu Hai lowered his head, his voice very soft, "it would be a horse. And we must say that this horse is really spirited."

Ying Zheng was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

There was no anger in the laughter, but rather a hint of relief.

This kid, finally, isn't just a fool who's been used as a pawn anymore. He's learned to "play it safe" and "disguise himself." Although it sounds pathetic, in the brutal world of court intrigue, that's called survival wisdom.

"If you can distinguish between a deer and a horse, I'll be half relieved."

Ying Zheng stood up and took out a small seal from his sleeve—it was not the imperial seal, but a newly carved private seal.

"Hu Hai, heed the imperial decree."

Hu Hai shuddered in fright, thinking he was about to be locked up again.

"I plan to establish a new government office called the 'Great Qin Royal Academy of Sciences.' Zhao Gao will be in charge of making things, and you will be in charge of... finding fault."

"Find fault?" Hu Hai asked blankly.

"That's right. From now on, you will be the one to test every piece of paper, every wheel, and every sword that Zhao Gao creates."

A mischievous glint flashed in Ying Zheng's eyes.

"You like to play, don't you? I'll let you play to your heart's content. You'd better find ways to sabotage and find fault with things. If you can break what Zhao Gao made, or find logical loopholes, I'll reward you."

"But if you're fooled by Zhao Gao..." Ying Zheng sneered, "then I'll stop your allowance and send you to settle accounts with Han Xin."

Hu Hai's eyes lit up.

Ordered to cause trouble? That's so satisfying! And the trouble he's causing is with Zhao Gao, that scheming guy who's always forcing him to memorize his lessons!

"Your subject obeys the decree! Your subject will definitely dismantle everything Zhao Gao has built!" Hu Hai rubbed his hands together, as if he could already see Zhao Gao's mournful face.

Looking at the excited Hu Hai, Ying Zheng thought to himself, "This is called 'ecological niche.' Even a useless person has a use. Letting him check Zhao Gao is just right."

[Your Majesty is wise. This is the legendary 'Product Test Manager.' The more disruptive the user, the more they can force product quality upgrades.]

After settling his family affairs, Ying Zheng walked out of the main hall.

The Milky Way shines brightly in the night sky.

"Little G".

【exist. 】

"Any news from Fusu's side?"

Yes. I just received an urgent report from Black Ice Guard (via carrier pigeon).

Prince Fusu has not bathed for three months while in Shangjun. He has led the people to cultivate two thousand acres of wasteland, and the curved-shaft plow has been successfully promoted. Moreover…

"And what?"

[Moreover, he has learned to swear. The day before yesterday, a county magistrate tried to embezzle seeds, but Prince Fusu publicly berated him severely, and almost drew his sword to kill him. It is said that his swearing vocabulary is extremely rich, no longer limited to archaic phrases.]

After listening, Ying Zheng stood under the starry sky and let out a long sigh of relief.

"It's good that you can swear."

"Only a son who can swear is like my son."

"It seems that the gears of the Great Qin Dynasty have finally begun to turn in the right direction."

But Ying Zheng knew that this was merely an internal adjustment. External threats still loomed large like dark clouds.

"Little G, you said before that besides the Huns, there was another empire on Earth called 'Rome'?"

Yes. At that time, they were busy fighting Carthage (the Battle of Hannibal).

"Do they have 'paper'?"

No, they use papyrus and parchment, which are extremely expensive.

"Do they have curved plows?"

【No.】

Do they have Han Xin, the "God of War"?

Uh... Hannibal could be considered half of him, but his ending wasn't good.

Ying Zheng turned around and looked westward, his eyes blazing with fury.

"very good."

"Once I've cleaned my house, I'd like to go and have a go at Rome."

Ask them if they understand what "standardized cart tracks and unified writing" means.