Princess? Dragon Maiden? Cannon Fire!

Ninth Year of the Hongzhi Reign, eastern end of Shanxi Province, Spirit Martial Town.

Holding a book, the man poked his finger into his nostril. He dug out a black, grimy lump and flicked it to the ground with his thumb. "Next, we'll review how to form the War God Imprint," he said. "Listen carefully. When examiners from the Imperial Capital arrive, they'll judge your War God Mark's perfection above all. If you can't even forge a tiny 'Luminous' character—no, a large 'Luminous' character—you can forget about entering the Imperial Capital." He placed the book on the solid wood table. Clenching his fists at his waist, he shouted, "War God Mark! Form!"

A powerful gust of qi surged from Master Scholar's feet, stirring a small breeze. Behind him, the War God Mark materialized.

It was a beautiful imprint. Master Scholar's mark glowed green because he hailed from the Crown Prince Manor as a Grand Scholar. He had mastered countless classics and doctrines, specializing in the Literary Rank. As a scholar, his green War God Imprint featured not only a large 'Luminous' character at its center but also an ethereal scroll. It resembled jade, brimming with spiritual energy.

"Some of you will join the military; others will pursue scholarly paths," Master Scholar continued. "Though your future training may differ, the basics of forming the War God Imprint remain the same. Memorize my demonstration thoroughly." He stroked his beard. "Now, who can explain the principle behind forming the War God Imprint?"

"Teacher, forming the War God Imprint maximizes all skills by harmonizing the body's veins and acupoints," a student answered, standing up in the thirty-person classroom.

"Excellent," Master Scholar nodded approvingly. "All of you should learn from Yi Xiuran. He formed his War God Imprint earliest among you. Yi Xiuran, you're aiming for the Five Armies Camp, correct?"

Whoosh—

The classroom erupted in chatter.

"Yi Xiuran's targeting the Five Armies Camp? That's part of the Capital's Three Great Camps—the hardest to enter!"

"Yeah! I remember him saying that was his dream when he enrolled. He's stayed true to it."

Yi Xiuran was the top student at Spirit Martial Academy, excelling in both theory and combat.

"Yes, Teacher," Yi Xiuran replied. "My father served in the Five Armies Camp. He retired honorably after being wounded fighting Mongol Troops on the Ming border. I wish to fulfill his legacy by serving there too."

"Very good," Master Scholar said. "I believe in your strength. Your chances of entering the Five Armies Camp are high. Keep training hard before their interview—don't slack off."

"I won't disappoint you, Teacher."

"Among you, Jiang Huoer should learn most from Yi Xiuran," Master Scholar added sternly. "He's the only one who hasn't successfully formed his War God Imprint yet. I worry for his future... Jiang Huoer, repeat the theory behind forming the War God Imprint."

Silence.

"Jiang Huoer!" Master Scholar snapped. "I'm asking you a question. Why won't you answer?" He glared toward the back corner near the door. Someone was slumped over there.

Master Scholar had never tolerated sleeping in his class. His face flushed with anger.

"Jiang Huoer, have you lost your mind? Sleeping in my class when you haven't even formed your War God Imprint! Don't you know high officials from the Capital arrive next week for interviews? Do you plan to stay in this town forever?"

Still no reply.

Master Scholar walked around Yi Xiuran's row to Jiang Huoer's seat. "Jiang Huoer, get up!" he ordered. "Why won't you strive? You—" He stopped mid-sentence. Something felt off.

He bent down slightly and nudged 'Jiang Huoer' with his teaching ruler.

"Giggle—" A girl beside the seat stifled a laugh.

There was no Jiang Huoer—just a dummy made of books and clothes.

Master Scholar's face turned ashen.

"Duan Mengqi!" he barked at the girl with neat shoulder-length hair and bright eyes. "Where is he?"

"Teacher, I don't know," Duan Mengqi said earnestly, shaking her head. "I was focused on your lesson and didn't notice Jiang Huoer leaving."

"You!" Master Scholar's expression twisted with frustration. Jiang Huoer had always been a problem student, skipping classes and activities.

"Teacher! Teacher! I know where Jiang Huoer went!" Pang Dun, the chubby boy beside Duan Mengqi, raised his hand eagerly.

Duan Mengqi shot Pang Dun a sharp glare.

"I... forgot," Pang Dun mumbled, lowering his hand.

Master Scholar stepped between them, blocking their eye contact. "Pang Dun, tell me where Jiang Huoer is. If you do, I'll tell your parents how well you've behaved lately. They'll reward you with melamine-brand baozi."

"Really, Teacher?" Pang Dun's eyes sparkled with hope.

"I never break my word."

"I'll tell! Jiang Huoer went to fire the cannon!" Pang Dun blurted.

"Hahahaha!" The whole class burst into laughter. Everyone except Master Scholar knew Jiang Huoer was firing cannons—but hearing it stated so seriously was hilarious.

"Go stand in the corner!" Master Scholar's face purpled with rage.

"But Teacher, can I still get the melamine baozi?"

"Corner! Now!"

"Teacher, I'm not lying! Jiang Huoer really went to fire the cannon! He fires one every day! This morning he told me he didn't get enough last night, so he had to go back for another shot! It's true!"

"Hahahaha!" The laughter was uncontrollable.

Master Scholar clenched his fists tightly. Only his dignity stopped him from thrashing Pang Dun.

"Fine. I understand," he forced a smile. "You'll get your melamine baozi. I never break my word." He returned to the front. "We'll deal with Jiang Huoer later. Class resumes."

Outside Spirit Martial Town, by the riverbank, a少年 stood.

His face was smeared with black grime, making him look like a demon. Only his occasional eerie grin revealed startlingly white teeth.

Today, he'd brought newly acquired saltpeter to the riverside. He'd tested this river—it was the pure 'sweet water' needed for making gunpowder, free of impurities.

He aimed to complete a grand project: building a replica Redcoat Cannon.

He'd spent nearly half a year crafting the cannon's body.

Jiang Huoer was an orphan. Fifteen years ago, the town mayor found him in a grassy marsh outside Spirit Martial Town. Villagers raised him together. At fourteen, the mayor gave him a blacksmith shop. There, Jiang Huoer forged tools for townsfolk, repaying their kindness while tinkering with inventions.

Truth was, Jiang Huoer had fired cannons since age three.

Back in the Chenghua era, Ming Army troops stopped at Spirit Martial Town en route to the Ming-Mongol border. The mayor and his wife hosted them, leaving Jiang Huoer with servants.

As officials feasted at the town office, a cannon blast shook the entire town.

Soldiers panicked, sweating coldly—Mongol Troops reaching this close to the Capital would doom the Great Ming.

Fortunately, a Xianwu General led them. Experienced, he rushed with troops to their camp outside town. The scene was gruesome. Most unsettling was a small boy holding a fuse, giggling madly amid the wreckage.

Rumors said many soldiers were traumatized for life...

The investigation revealed the servant had snuck out to meet a lover, taking Jiang Huoer along to avoid leaving him alone.

While the servant was distracted, Jiang Huoer discovered a hidden Redcoat Cannon and its fuse. Their passion sparked love; his discovery sparked the blast.

Jiang Huoer blamed the servant for his cannon obsession. Though fired afterward, the servant faced light punishment since no one died.

This replica Redcoat Cannon was based on Jiang Huoer's hazy childhood memory. Imperfect as it might be, he believed it could fire one shot.

His confidence came from success with gunpowder-bound Divine Mechanism Arrows—he'd hunted several wild rabbits with them.

So Jiang Huoer trusted this launch would succeed too.

He loaded an iron cannonball into the barrel. Then, Jiang Huoer lit the fuse.