Seeing that his own son could still remember him and call out his name, Mr. Clark was so moved that, with tears welling up in his eyes, he hugged Henry Clark tightly: “My Henry still remembers I’m his old man, hahaha, good, good, as long as you remember your father, that’s all that matters. Heaven hasn’t turned a blind eye after all, the Clark family line isn’t ending after all.”

The father and son clung to each other in excitement for quite a while. Only after squeezing out two tears did Henry Clark finally break free from William Clark’s embrace. Well, Henry Clark really wasn’t used to two grown men hugging and bawling together. Ever since he turned ten, except for women, he’d never hugged another man for so long.

“But father, who are they? Although I feel they look a bit familiar, I just can’t remember their names…” Henry Clark turned his head and looked at the others, his expression once again turning confused.

“…Well, let your father explain it to you in detail.”

……

That night, Henry Clark lay quietly alone on the bed in the ship’s cabin, gazing at the moonlight shining through the porthole onto the floor, listening to the sound of the waves outside and the occasional footsteps, his mind racing with thoughts. After a whole day, Henry Clark finally fully understood his situation.

It was now the fifty-fifth year of the Qianlong Emperor’s reign in the Qing Dynasty, and Henry Clark was currently on a merchant ship that had just completed a deal with the recently established Lanfang Republic on Borneo (Kalimantan). This was a fleet made up of six sea vessels. However, less than five days after leaving the Lanfang Republic, they encountered a fleet of French ships. The French ships were tall and heavily armed, and wanted to make a profit off William Clark’s fleet. In the ensuing fierce battle, the seventeen-year-old young master Henry Clark, already considered an adult, picked up a weapon and fought desperately against the enemy. However, the outcome was a bit unfortunate. The foolish boy had some bad luck: just as he was fighting bravely at the ship’s rail, having cut down several pirates who had boarded, a cannon on the enemy ship exploded due to overloading with gunpowder. A flying piece of shrapnel struck him on the forehead, knocking him out. As a result, Henry Clark’s soul transmigrated, taking over this body and receiving the ultimate prize that countless web novel readers dream of: time travel.

What the French didn’t expect was that this merchant fleet was actually a group of semi-professional pirates, both traders and raiders, with formidable combat strength. They ended up kicking a steel plate: three armed merchant ships, two damaged and one sunk, and instead William Clark captured two powerful European-style fast sailing ships, each equipped with twenty-four cannons. Since it was a boarding battle, the two damaged armed merchant ships, though battered—one even had part of its upper deck blown off by a cannon explosion—could be repaired and added to the fleet. William Clark’s fleet only lost three merchant ships, but with the two armed merchant ships that could sail again after repairs, their overall strength actually increased rather than decreased.

Having traveled to this era, the only advantage over his past life was his sudden wealth. But the question was, does having more money really help? Henry Clark couldn’t help but sigh. The Qing Dynasty, the dynasty he hated most, and yet that crazy thunder god brother had zapped him right into this era. It really proved the old saying: the more you hate something, the more you get it.

And now it was the late Qianlong period, right at the time of the great Western Industrial Revolution. During this period, China was gradually being left behind by the West. In a few decades, China’s doors would be blasted open and shattered by British cannons. Then, the Taiping Rebellion would throw the entire country into chaos, and in the end, not even a shred of dignity would remain.

Before transmigrating, Henry Clark was also a hot-blooded youth. Every time he read modern Chinese history, he couldn’t help but slam the table and curse, always feeling a stifling anger pressing on his heart, making him uncomfortable. And now, having really arrived in this era, was he just supposed to watch his nation continue to decline under the rule of a foreign dynasty?

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, and the more excited he was, the more his spirits soared. Henry Clark wrung his hands and paced excitedly around the cabin. What was there to be afraid of? In his previous life, he was always plunging into danger, doing the most dangerous business in the harshest environments. Now, as a transmigrator, having lived two lives, his mind was filled with countless advanced ideas and knowledge. More importantly, he knew the course of history. Since he had the fate to come to this era, why not take a gamble? A man should live boldly—drink the strongest wine, sleep with the most beautiful women, and carve out a kingdom of his own.

“I say, do you think the young master’s gone mad?” Outside the porthole, a sailor nudged his companion with his elbow.

“Doesn’t look like it. Who goes mad like that? Look at how fast the young master’s pacing—faster than a four-legged donkey. Does that look sick to you?” Another sailor craned his neck to take a look and gave his opinion.