Chapter 12
As a typical unlucky player, Chu Yingzhao never held much hope for most gacha games. Moreover, this game flagrantly violated consumer protection laws, lacking even a guaranteed minimum reward.
But since she was already here—
Besides, last time the Empress managed to pull an SR card—she refused to admit it was some kind of newbie protection and instead attributed it to a turn of fortune after hardship.
With that mindset, she crouched down, rinsed her hands in the slightly murky river water, then pressed the start button.
The wheel spun slowly, the pointer circling several times before, unsurprisingly, settling in the white zone.
The effect of the common card flickered faintly like a candle in the wind, light and shadow briefly shimmering in the air as the plain card face gradually emerged.
[Fireworks]
[Non-targeted. When given to a character, fireworks bloom automatically displaying related patterns and effects, increasing the target’s favorability by +1.]
…A kind of “better than nothing” charm. Noted, one VIP in the warehouse.
The Empress offered no comment and clicked start again.
This time, the pointer spun faster, the glow leaping fiercely around the wheel as if charging power. Chu Yingzhao’s heartbeat quickened with the pointer’s rhythm, and when it stopped in the blue zone, she blinked instinctively.
A clear blue beam of light burst forth, with a more distinct halo than before. She took a deep breath—
An R card! My heart is greatly comforted!
Amid the soft blue glow, a long rectangular box appeared on her system interface.
The box looked large, its deep blue surface shimmering with a metallic cold light, as if waiting for its owner to open it.
But unlike a map, next to this souvenir was a line of pale gray small text: contains a portable sandbox and toolset, suitable for various terrains and landforms.
[Sandbox Tools]
[When given to Bai Wenqing, increases target’s favorability by +15 and triggers the limited quest “Seeking Jue.”]
“!” Chu Yingzhao barely blinked, decisively pressing the sandbox icon and instantly switching the interface to the initial state, then dragged the icon—
Onto her own avatar.
Perfect timing, bring it on!
The system lagged longer than before. Under the Empress’s steady gaze, the loading circle spun seven or eight times before finally a confirmation box popped up:
[Are you sure you want to gift ‘Sandbox Tools’ to Mu Zhao…]
Confirm!
The system froze for a few more seconds before the prompt sounded calmly:
[Sandbox Tools recorded. To use, please select a flat surface of 80*80 CM for placement. Remaining uses: 3.]
Uses were limited—that was less ideal.
But at least it could solve the immediate crisis.
Chu Yingzhao raised an eyebrow, scanning the surroundings.
The water surface reflected a gloomy sky; the wind carried damp chill, as if a torrential downpour was about to burst forth.
She turned to Bai Wenqing: “Let’s go to the temple.”
*
The village along the way appeared faintly in the distance, low rooftops occasionally rising wisps of smoke, faint traces of life. Chu Yingzhao walked steadily, her gaze sweeping over the land as she mentally planned the forthcoming layout.
They passed through some low-lying farmland, the ground already waterlogged. In the distance, several old trees with peeling bark struggled, leaning against the wind.
Bai Wenqing tried to start a conversation: “Your Majesty, you mentioned data calculation earlier, but I—”
Chu Yingzhao raised a hand, signaling him to hold his words for now. Her eyes fixed on the temple not far ahead. Its tilted pillars and precarious roof made the building appear especially dilapidated.
Several guards stood fully armed at the temple gate, with two others patrolling nearby vigilantly.
Inside the main hall, a few dim oil lamps flickered, faintly casting the outlines of children’s innocent figures. Dust and light intertwined on the temple floor, as if time itself was frozen here.
Dozens of children huddled closely together, their faces pale and alert, eyes furtively scanning the surroundings like young beasts ready to flee at any moment.
The temporary teacher at the front wore patched clothing and stumbled through reciting primer texts.
Fortunately, though the children were tense, at certain passages their lips moved slightly in quiet recitation.
Chu Yingzhao did not disturb them, only observing carefully from the shadows before turning to enter the side hall.
She looked around and finally settled her gaze on a relatively flat stone platform. After brushing off the dust, she chose to place—
A rectangular box appeared in the center of the stone platform, glowing with blue light.
The physical object mirrored the schematic almost perfectly; under dim light, the metallic surface shimmered with sleek silver gleams, possessing a uniquely industrial beauty.
Without hesitation, the Empress opened the lid.
A crisp metallic scent wafted out. Inside, tools were arranged in layers, each precisely fitted into grooves: miniature shovels, tweezers, carving knives, measuring tape, and dozens of neatly arranged sandbox terrain modules.
The modules varied in size, their surfaces engraved with intricate contour lines, exuding a modern design aesthetic.
Chu Yingzhao raised a brow with slight puzzlement, flipping through the tools: “…What does this mean, pure handmade DIY?”
At that moment, the system chimed again:
“Placement complete. Please select map modules and use projection function.”
A flicker of interest crossed Chu Yingzhao’s eyes.
The system panel automatically popped up the map interface, displaying the unlocked military modules immediately before her—praising the excellent member who helped her unlock the full map from the start… the male lead’s representative, Shadow—without hesitation, the Empress selected the current flood zone.
Then, glowing azure points converged on the sandbox; uncarved modules automatically connected, the sandbox gradually taking shape. Water flows, mountain contours, and landforms appeared in sequence, even tiny village locations were precisely marked. Within moments, a three-dimensional topographic map unfolded slowly.
Chu Yingzhao was greatly pleased.
She extended a hand, her fingertips lightly tracing the projected river lines. The river meandered downward, flanked by dense villages and farmland on both sides of the basin.
Casually, the Empress picked up a carving knife from the box and etched the location for a diversion channel into the sandbox. Her movements were rough but effective; soon she had created a new river path.
After a moment’s thought, she dismantled the existing dam module and replaced it with a thicker, taller model. The terrain adjusted accordingly, every change instantly reflected before her eyes.
She exhaled deeply, then called out toward the door: “Bai Wenqing, come in.”
“Your Majesty, I…” Bai Wenqing poked his head in from the doorway. He seemed to have something prepared but hadn’t spoken when his gaze was drawn to the sandbox immediately.
He stepped forward, staring at the exquisitely crafted object that was almost a work of art, his curiosity turning to awe: “What is this?”
“A sandbox,” Chu Yingzhao answered succinctly, “used to plan flood diversion schemes.”
Bai Wenqing’s eyes shone brightly as he instinctively reached out, gesturing in the air before him, then murmured, “This… this is so convenient.”
Chu Yingzhao nodded: “The terrain you need is already set. The carving knives and shovels over there are for manual terrain adjustments. You may begin simulation calculations.”
She paused briefly, watching Bai Wenqing grow increasingly excited, then added, “I need an accurate, specific, and feasible optimal plan.”
Bai Wenqing picked up a module, examining it from all angles, his gaze fixed on the map outline projected on the sandbox base. He seemed to grasp the essence of the tool quickly, then took a carving knife from the toolbox and skillfully began shaping the module.
In less than a minute, he finished adjustments, swapping it with another terrain piece on the sandbox—no surprise, the male lead’s learning and comprehension were remarkable.
He gasped softly, eyes shining intensely: “Your Majesty, you focus on other tasks. I’ll handle the design, and quickly… Someone! Bring me some water!”
The guards brought water, but more than one person entered.
A tall, slender figure cloaked entirely in black silently stepped inside.
He stood to one side of the sandbox, his sharp gaze sweeping from the sandbox to Bai Wenqing like a blade passing over.
“What’s the matter?” Chu Yingzhao diverted her eyes from the sandbox and asked.
“Zhang Yanli sent people to mobilize the refugees to reinforce the dam, but the results are poor,” Shadow’s voice was low and calm. “The refugees are reluctant to work, the guards are understaffed, and forced conscription would surely spark a riot, difficult to control. Your Majesty, should the Night Patrol intervene directly?”
Bai Wenqing muttered impatiently beside him, “Reluctant to work? Haven’t they been given rations?”
Shadow ignored him, only answering simply when he saw Chu Yingzhao looking at him: “They’re afraid to die. Construction in the previous dynasty often caused half the workers to perish.”
Bai Wenqing clicked his tongue with a hint of disdain: “Commoners.”
Chu Yingzhao frowned. Her voice was quiet but carried an unchallengeable authority: “Bai Wenqing.”
He was called by name and instinctively turned to her, his bright deer-like eyes still tinged with annoyance, even a hint of disregard.
So when he met the sudden coldness in the Empress’s gaze, he couldn’t help but feel confused, even bewildered: “…What is it, Your Majesty?”
Chu Yingzhao withdrew her gaze without correcting his attitude further or saying more.
Building the dam was a matter of utmost urgency; the design plan could not be delayed.
Some things could wait, but lives could not.
She turned to Shadow beside her: “Notify the officials responsible for the dam. Ensure everyone fulfills their roles. I will arrive immediately.”
Who isn’t afraid to die?
But if these refugees understood their current situation, why they must participate in this labor, and what the results of their work would be—
Most importantly, what they would gain from it, and how their lives might change—
If they could clearly grasp these answers, they would be willing to work.
And knowing these truths is their rightful entitlement.