Chapter 2: The Three of Us Will Restore the Han!

Zhou Fei and Wang Zhen stared at each other as Jiang Chen dragged over the pile of blackened charcoal. Neither had the faintest idea what he was up to.

The cameraman stood beside them, his camera trained on the sorry pile on the table. His expression said it all. What was there to film?

His pay depended on the stream’s popularity too, and plenty of confused viewers were already leaving.

Jiang Chen clapped the dust from his hands, leaned between his teammates, and lowered his voice.

“Let’s make a big splash.

“We’ll make a firework and set it off.”

Zhou Fei froze. Wang Zhen’s mouth fell open and stayed that way.

What? A firework?

Zhou Fei swallowed, the flesh on his cheeks trembling. “Captain, you’re joking, right? We’re on a reality show. Why would you make a firework?”

Jiang Chen pulled over a scrap of paper and drew a casual circle on it.

“Think about it. Other teams are selling breakfast, organizing weddings, even picking up trash. If we do the same, who’s going to watch us? Without viewers, we’ll be packing our bags in seven days.

“But what if we make an enormous, one-of-a-kind firework right here in this lousy courtyard, with our bare hands? Wouldn’t our stream take off?

“We’re not doing it for money. We’re giving them a visual spectacle. The competition won’t know what hit them.”

As Zhou Fei listened to this grand vision, his breathing quickened.

A big splash. A visual spectacle. Crushing the competition.

Hell, that was a great idea! It was explosive, it was outrageous, and it would draw a huge audience!

Then reality poured cold water over his excitement. He scratched his head.

“But Brother Chen, none of us knows how to make one. Get the proportions a little wrong and won’t our firework just fizzle?”

Wang Zhen nodded. “That’s right, Captain. When I worked at the mine, I saw the professionals do blasting. They needed strict approval and specialist skills. The three of us are amateurs. We can’t possibly do it.”

Jiang Chen put a hand on each man’s shoulder.

“Think bigger. What did Liu Bei do for a living? He sold straw sandals. Zhang Fei? He sold pork. Guan Yu? He sold mung beans.

“What did those three do when they got together?”

“They set out to restore the Han dynasty!” Zhou Fei blurted.

Jiang Chen snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Three market sellers managed to carve up the realm. The three of us can’t make one firework?

“Keep your mind on the goal, and there’ll always be more solutions than obstacles!”

The words struck Zhou Fei like a bell. His blood surged. He slapped his thigh.

“Let’s do it! I’m with you, Brother Chen! Tell me what you need and I’ll go straight back to the shop and haul it over!”

Watching Zhou Fei’s excitement, Wang Zhen relaxed despite his earlier misgivings. He smiled his guileless smile.

“I’m fine with anything. You two decide, and I’ll help.”

Comments were already racing across livestream 952.

【Popularity】+1 +1 +1…

【Holy shit!! What did he say? A firework?!】

【Wait!! They’re actually making one!!】

【Liu Bei: The three of us will conquer the realm. Jiang Chen: The three of us will blow it up!】

【I think we’re witnessing the birth of the ultimate team: the Idea Guy, the Action Guy, and the Easygoing Guy!】

【If the breakfast team knew their charcoal was going into a firework, they’d probably call the cops.】

Listening to the absurd plan from behind them, the cameraman rolled his eyes. He steadied the camera with one hand and waved the other.

“Jiang Chen, stop messing around. Make a firework? Do you think this is child’s play? There’s no way you can pull it off. Find yourselves a more interesting way to make a living.”

Jiang Chen turned and pointed at the camera. “You just focus on getting the footage. Leave the rest to us.”

Then he assigned his teammates their jobs.

“Zhou Fei, get sulfur. As much as you can.

“Wang Zhen, get saltpeter—that’s potassium nitrate. It’s in certain fertilizers at your shop. Purify some and bring it over.”

The two men took off. In less than half an hour, Zhou Fei came charging back with two large woven sacks over his shoulders. Wang Zhen entered the courtyard carrying several heavy plastic buckets.

They piled everything on the battered wooden table in the center of the courtyard: yellow powder, white crystals, and black charcoal, all neatly arranged together.

The viewers were dumbstruck.

【Holy crap, he’s really doing it?!】

【When Jiang Chen picked up the charcoal, I knew this was getting serious.】

【When Zhou Fei came back with sulfur, I started to panic.】

【When Wang Zhen showed up with saltpeter, I dialed 110.】

【Unbelievable! Jiang Chen’s IQ +100, the other two’s ability to act +200, awareness of the law 999!】

【Forget Three’s a Team. These three are going to be cellmates!】

Cold sweat ran down the cameraman’s forehead as he stared at the mountain of raw materials. There was something very wrong with this picture.

He hurried into a corner and called the director.

“Director! We’ve got a problem! The contestants in stream 952 are making a firework!”

In the production lounge, the director was reclining comfortably on a sofa in the air conditioning, a freshly brewed cup of premium Tieguanyin tea in his hand.

He sprayed a mouthful across the room.

“What? A firework? Which stream?”

Flustered, he wiped the tea off his clothes and motioned for his assistant to switch the screen. Stream 952 appeared: three grown men gathered around a table covered in piles of powder and charcoal.

The director leaned in for a closer look, then let out a long breath. The assistant director and several staff members crowded around too. Once they saw the picture, they burst out laughing.

“They’re just playing in the dirt!”

“A firework? Those contestants sure know how to put on a show.”

“Using a stunt like that to attract viewers. Clever thinking.”

The assistant director pointed to the figures in the upper-right corner. “Look, Director, the traffic’s shooting up. The stream’s only just started and it already has over a thousand viewers. That’s outstanding among the new teams.”

The director sat back down, picked up a tissue, and wiped his mouth.

“Don’t make such a fuss,” he told the cameraman. “What could they possibly make out of a few piles of powder? It’s a stunt to bait comments. Just keep filming. The numbers are good, aren’t they?

“Report back if anything changes. No more panicking over nothing.”

He hung up.

The cameraman listened to the dead line, mouth open, all his remaining words stuck in his throat. He turned back to the table.

Jiang Chen had rolled up his sleeves. As he poured powder onto the table, he chanted under his breath:

“One part saltpeter, two parts sulfur, three parts charcoal; add some sugar and you’ve got Big Ivan.”