Chapter One: Return to Hometown

  As an orphan, I was able to have a happy childhood, get into college, find a good job after graduation, gain recognition from my leaders, have a substantial income, and then start my own business after quitting my job, earning my first pot of gold.

  Heaven has been kind to me, Wang Tong always thought so, although success was just in front of him when he got an incurable disease.

  The money that came in was just enough to keep him in the hospital until he died, what good luck, Wang Tong often made jokes about his own deathbed.

  His field of vision gradually darkened, his consciousness became increasingly blurred, and Wang Tong knew he was about to die. At this moment, however, his thoughts were surging like a tide, from childhood to adulthood, in order to be like others, in order to have a better future, he had always been striving and struggling, but never thought it would end like this.

  "I am not reconciled..."

  Thirty-one-year-old Wang Tong died alone in his sickbed, with no one hearing his final murmurs.

  The third year of Wanli in the Ming Dynasty, Guangdong, Macau.

  On the hillside of Linhai, Western-style buildings are densely arranged, with more than a dozen artillery emplacements set up in various strategic locations. Looking at the people coming and going on the streets, the prosperous city scene, it's hard to imagine that twenty years ago this was just a barren coastal area.

  Yellow-faced Han people and white Europeans mixed together, forming a unique scene here, which you can't see anywhere else in the Ming Dynasty. Frankish women and street vendors haggle over prices, while shabbily dressed whites peddle coarse "Frankish specialties" to passing Ming people on the streets.

  In that French machine blacksmith's shop, you can even see Han children serving as apprentices.

  "King Tong!! Your dad is calling you to hurry back home!!"

  Someone was shouting loudly, the voice entered the ironwork shop by the street, a sturdy child heard this, put down the iron rod and drill in his hand, stood up and said goodbye to the middle-aged white man with a big beard:

  "Master Bamon, today I will return to my hometown in the capital, thank you for teaching me so much over the past six months."

  That big-bearded white man was hammering a piece of iron on the anvil, and upon hearing the child's words, he slowed down his pace and said in stiff Mandarin:

  "Thanks? I wouldn't have paid you wages either. The bundle by the door is yours, from now on we owe each other nothing."

  Wang Tong didn't respond, but instead bowed deeply and quickly grabbed the package, rushing out of the door. The distance between Beijing and Macau was thousands of miles, and this foreigner was a white man, so the chance of them meeting again was extremely slim. Wang Tong felt a pang of sadness in his heart as he hastily departed.

  He didn't hear the sound of the iron hammer striking the anvil behind him stop, and naturally he couldn't see Bigbeard Barmund wiping his moist eyes with his hand.

  At that time, Macau was not very large, and Wang Tong soon ran to the port. In the port, there were soft-sailed galleons and clippers as well as hard-sailed junks, with masts like a forest, and the scale of berthed ships even exceeded that of Macau itself.

  Wang Tong, who had run to the place, saw a middle-aged man standing at the edge of the dock. The man was wearing a flying fish robe and had an embroidered spring knife hanging from his waist. Whether they were Japanese devils or Han people, they all avoided him with reverence because they knew that this attire represented one of the most powerful departments of the Ming Dynasty - the "Brocade Guard".

  Wang Tong and the middle-aged man looked somewhat similar in their eyebrows and eyes, but compared to Wang Tong's sturdy build, this middle-aged man had a pale complexion and although he was tall, he was very thin. Seeing Wang Tong running over, he hurriedly smiled and waved his hand to greet him, just about to speak when he suddenly started coughing.

  "Dad, how long have I been waiting?"

  Rushing to the front, Wang Tong looked up and said. The middle-aged man stopped coughing, wiped his hand covering his mouth behind him, affectionately touched Wang Tong's head, and gently scolded:

  "You kid, several adults who came to see you off have already gone back, and they're all waiting for you!"

  Wang Tong lowered his head and smiled awkwardly. The middle-aged man turned around and walked towards a Fuzhou ship, and he quickly followed up. The middle-aged man kept talking non-stop.

  "...you're already twelve years old, studying and martial arts are the right path, Xiao Tong you spend all day in the blacksmith's shop, or else you'll just be foolishly running around..."

  Wang Tong and his father walked side by side, while others who saw the Brocade Guards hastily avoided them in fear. As a result, no one noticed that there was a faint bloodstain on the middle-aged man's collar, which was where he had just wiped his hand.

  The ferry is spacious, and now it's also the season of calm winds and waves. People on the boat can hardly feel any turbulence. Standing on the deck, looking at the vast blue waters, seagulls flying around the ship, makes one feel carefree and exhilarated.

  The middle-aged man was physically weak and went to rest in the cabin as soon as the ship set sail. He knew his children wouldn't run around, so he let Wang Tong stay on deck with peace of mind.

  In the stern of the Fuchuan ship, Wang Tong sat there and opened the small package. As expected, there was a short-barreled shotgun inside.

  He followed Bamonde and learned ironwork for half a year. The big-bearded white man probably saw his fondness for firearms, so when they parted ways, he gave him a gun as a gift.

  The wooden handle is polished very smoothly, the medicine pool is tightly sealed, and the trigger is very convenient. It can be considered a carefully crafted household item, but it's a bit heavy, weighing about four catties.

  The flintlock pistol was almost the most advanced weapon of this era, but compared to the automatic weapons of later generations, it's really no match.

  ……

  It's been twelve years since I arrived in the Ming Dynasty. Wang Tong let out a long sigh, and his expression at this time was like that of an adult, which was not what he should have had at his age.

  Having traveled through time and space to this era, becoming a newborn baby, after so long, Wang Tong still remembered the shock and excitement of that time.

  Perhaps it was fate, but his father Wang Li, a small flag of the Imperial Guard in Beijing, gave him the name Wang Tong. Not long after giving birth to him, his mother died suddenly from illness, and Wang Li, who loved his wife dearly, did not remarry and raised Wang Tong on his own until now.

  Having knowledge and experience that is hundreds of years ahead has not made him a prodigy, modern marketing and planning knowledge is useless in this era, but his mature consciousness is an obstacle to accepting life in this era.

  With the knowledge of rebirth, Wang Tong did not want to lose again. He grew up like a real baby, learning silently and quietly, never slackening in his physical training.

  In this era of shortage of doctors and medicines, a strong physique is the guarantee of health...

  Four years ago, in the fifth year of Longqing, Wang Li was transferred to Macau for investigation. Since their family had no relatives in Beijing, they naturally brought Wang Tong along as well.

  Although the Portuguese had only been in Macau for thirty years, it was already a westernized town and Wong Toon found ironworks there that could make firearms.

  Knowing about firearms is certainly very helpful to oneself. Wang Tong thought of every way to get into this shop as an apprentice, but he was too young and his father did not agree at all.

  It wasn't until half a year ago that Wang Tong finally persuaded Wang Li and introduced him to the shop through someone.

  Wang Li and those around him thought that Wang Tong was just a child who would lose interest, but unexpectedly the 12-year-old Wang Tong had been diligently learning in the blacksmith's shop until today.

  Learning a useful skill increases one's chances of survival in this era. Wang Tong thought to himself as he expertly examined each component of the shotgun.

  Suddenly a severe coughing sound came over, Wang Tong hurriedly wrapped up the package in his hand and ran quickly towards his father Wang Li's cabin.

  From the cold and dry north to the sultry and humid south coast, after traveling thousands of miles and being busy with official duties, Wang Li arrived in Macau for a short time, but his physical condition began to deteriorate due to not adapting to the environment.

  Macau is a remote place in Guangdong Province, lacking medical care and medicine, Wang Li's body is getting weaker day by day.

  The boundless sea is outside the ship's side, and the road home has just begun.

  A bit rusty, thank you everyone, please don't hesitate to support