My Emperor Father Can Read Minds

Emperor Wei admitted that he had been tempted by what Wei Yu had said.

What emperor wouldn’t want to strike against and eliminate the noble clans? As long as these clans existed, they would continue to influence the execution of imperial power.

Without countermeasures, it was only a matter of time before these ever-growing noble clans would turn against the court, just like the aristocratic families in Yizhou, where signs of rebellion were already showing.

His heart stirred as if a fawn were frantically crashing around in his chest. If he didn’t conceal it, that fawn might just bash itself to death in front of everyone!

Meeting the eager and curious eyes of his beloved ministers, Emperor Wei gave a deliberate cough to cover his reaction.

“Ahem, beloved ministers, I… just suddenly remembered something.”

Remembered what?

His ministers listened intently, and Du Xing was so anxious he rolled up his sleeves—only to silently roll them back down after hearing that.

“I recalled that Little Ninth once mentioned this matter to me.”

Emperor Wei lied without batting an eye, “Creating such a thing is no easy feat. It would require someone to devote years of focused research to possibly see results. The officials of the Six Ministries all have their duties, so I’ve already assigned this to someone else. You all need not ask further—for now, just wait until the thing is completed.” Gongsun Tai frowned: They’ve already started? His Majesty didn’t consult us at all—this isn’t good.

Pei Zhi pondered: Whom did His Majesty assign this to? The Ministry of Works is full of skilled craftsmen—why not give it to them? Could it be even they are incapable of building it?

Qi Tishou muttered anxiously: We’re doomed, this must be another massive expense… Wait—His Majesty didn’t ask me for money?

[…]

Everyone had their own thoughts—only Du Xing actually roared out loud.

“So… Your Majesty! What kind of weapon is this, exactly?!”

He might’ve been the only one in the entire court genuinely focused on the weapon itself.

Good question!

Emperor Wei blinked and glanced somewhat guiltily at Wei Yu.

I’ve already covered for you—so what kind of weapon is it, kid?

Wei Yu blinked back.

He looked at his father, then at Du Xing, and suddenly smiled at him.

“It’s very simple, really. It’s just…”

Wei Yu raised his hands, mimicking the posture of carrying a cannon, and made the sound of firing a shell at Du Xing.

“Boom! Thud! Bang—!”

Everyone: …

Wei Yu spread his hands with an innocent expression. “That’s all there is to it. It’s a new kind of weapon, so there’s no point explaining it. Better to wait until it’s built.”

—

After Wei Yu’s animated demonstration, the topic of the weapon more or less disappeared.

Even Du Xing fell silent and didn’t keep asking, so naturally, the others knew better than to press.

Instead, the court officials continued their discussion about ships.

Should they build new vessels? Where should they start construction? Who should be in charge of the shipyards?… All important questions.

As long as it didn’t involve technical blueprints, Wei Yu remained silent.

This was all statecraft, and even the Eldest Prince or Second Prince weren’t qualified to join such high-level discussions—let alone Wei Yu, who had never even attended court.

He wanted to slip away and had even thought up an excuse to leave, but Emperor Wei acted as if nothing was amiss and simply told him to stay and listen.

Wei Yu couldn’t be bothered to figure out what his father was thinking. His mind was full of soft pillows and his cozy little bed, and he listened to the entire meeting with a numb expression.

After another hour passed and the discussions were finally over, the ministers took their leave, and Wei Yu at last had a chance to breathe and escape.

But Emperor Wei wanted him to properly explain the weapon and his plan to strike at the noble clans.

Sigh!

How exhausting.

Since it was just the two of them now, Wei Yu didn’t bother hiding anything.

“Royal Father, the weapon your son wants to make is a type of heavy hot weapon—one that can blast through mountains and destroy enemy troops from a hundred paces away!”

Emperor Wei’s pupils contracted.

Wei Yu didn’t hold back and directly explained gunpowder, firearms, and cannons—all of which were feasible with their current technology.

Once developed, the combat power of the Great Wei army would skyrocket. In the future, if anyone dared to invade Great Wei’s borders or harm its people, with such weapons in hand, they could reduce military casualties and effectively intimidate enemy forces.

As for people who might say “It’s the cold weapons era; bringing out hot weapons isn’t fair and will disrupt historical progress”… ugh!

Wei Yu could only say—Saints, we don’t need you here. We’ll build you a golden statue and let you go bless some other country!

Who doesn’t understand logic?

So you’re a “wise one,” and while your own people are suffering in poverty, starving, dressed in rags, with no home to return to, forced to eat grass to survive—you still have the compassion to feel for the enemy?

Exactly what part of your brain is generating this fancy empathy that lets you sympathize with the enemy? Are you thinking straight?

You can’t even solve present-day problems, and you’re already worrying about events a hundred years down the line? Why not just lie in a coffin and be done with it?

Compassion can be extended to former enemies—but only once your own people’s safety is absolutely secured.

If you show excessive sympathy before that, it’s not kindness—it’s stupidity.

The more Wei Yu spoke, the more detailed his description of gunpowder’s power became.

Emperor Wei, already grasping the implications, began to breathe heavily.

Wei Yu saw the brightness in his father’s eyes—the swelling ambition and desire were practically leaking out.

Wei Yu seriously wondered whether his father was about to faint from excitement.

Afraid the old man would get too worked up and start ranting about unifying the world, Wei Yu reminded him: “Dad, it hasn’t been made yet.”

Emperor Wei: …

Well played.

That really took the edge off. At least it brought his overheated brain back down a notch.

He sat up straight and looked seriously yet warmly at Wei Yu. “Yu’er, tell your father—how long will it take to complete this gunpowder and cannon?”

Men really are practical.

Wei Yu gave his father a meaningful look, not even wanting to comment on how terrifying he looked at the moment.

Like he was trying to recruit people into a pyramid scheme.

Emperor Wei pretended not to notice and gazed at his precious Yu’er with glowing anticipation, eager to know how soon he could get his hands on this secret weapon that could unify Great Wei!

“Sigh, this kind of thing—it’s not exactly hard, but it’s not easy either.”

Wei Yu shrugged at his father. “To do something well, one must first learn. If you want gunpowder and cannon as soon as possible, you need to find the right people to study the necessary knowledge. As long as you can find them, I’m willing to teach.”

Emperor Wei mulled it over. “None of the officials at court will do? There are some who aren’t from noble families.”

“I don’t know,” Wei Yu shrugged. “As long as they’re willing to learn, flexible in their thinking, and eager to explore, I’m fine with it. The only difference is how fast they pick it up.”

Wei Yu glanced at his father and said lightly, “This is a new system of knowledge—there’s no one right now who fully understands it.”

[Dad, you’d better think carefully about who should be the first to learn.]