Chapter Twenty-One: Eternal Communication

As night fell, the Prince Ming’s residence was lavishly decorated with a grand banquet to welcome Tang Yi and his companions. During the festivities—

“Brother Zhao, I’ve heard you’re recruiting talent on a large scale, preparing for something big. But what exactly are you planning?” Tang Yi inquired.

“Brother Tang, to be honest, I myself am still uncertain about the specifics,” Zhao Ming Song replied with a sigh. “Originally, I only wished to live freely as a prince and enjoy this fleeting life. But things rarely go as one wishes. By chance, I offered a few ideas to help my father solve some pressing issues, and now he wants me to inherit the throne. You know how it is—when it comes to succession, there’s never any room for family sentiment. Although this time the competition is supposedly fair, I know my two brothers well—they’re not particularly interested in the throne either. But who can say other parties won’t meddle? My main reason for recruiting talent is to ensure my own safety.”

“It seems you haven’t changed at all, Brother Zhao!” Tang Yi laughed. “Let’s not talk about such matters tonight. Let’s drink! Come, everyone, let’s raise our glasses!”

“To us!” The entire hall joined in the toast.

…

The following day, in the reception hall of the Prince Ming’s residence—

Tang Yi and Prince Ming were deep in conversation.

“Brother Tang, if what you say is true, this mobile communication device would greatly facilitate interaction between people! Merchants in particular would love it. If they could, as you described, communicate with their families anytime, anywhere while traveling, it would be a tremendous blessing. Currently, the Song Dynasty only has telegraphs, and they’re scarce—used solely by the military,” Prince Ming said, clearly delighted.

“With only three years, we can only focus on developing the mobile phone. If we had more time, I’d pursue several projects simultaneously for better results. Still, this mobile project alone will suffice,” Tang Yi said as he produced two phones—more precisely, two cultivation realm phones, compact and exquisite. The exterior was modern, but inside, they operated with the transmission array commonly used in the cultivation world.

“These were hastily assembled last night and are still quite immature. Let me explain how to use them. Look, these keys at the front—you should recognize them. The digits zero to nine are widely used in the Song Dynasty. The star and pound keys are currently useless, but they’ll have functions later. This check-mark button is for answering calls, and the cross-mark button is for ending them. What these mean will become clear when I demonstrate. Here’s the back cover. If you open it, you’ll see the SIM card and the battery—actually, a spirit stone used as the power source. It’s similar to the electric lights used in the capital, but the spirit stones are far more environmentally friendly. Once the spiritual energy is exhausted, they become ordinary stones, which aligns with the Song Dynasty’s ancestral regulations—no need to worry about environmental pollution. Now, let me show you…” Tang Yi explained enthusiastically, while Prince Ming listened intently, nodding along.

Three months later, thanks to Prince Ming’s assistance, the Tang Group was established. Prince Ming held forty-nine percent of the shares, while Tang Yi owned fifty-one percent. Tang Yi became chairman, with Prince Ming as a board member, though he did not participate in daily management.

The Tang Group was situated to the left of Prince Ming’s residence. Previously, it had belonged to a senior official of the court, but Tang Yi acquired it through substantial funds and with Prince Ming’s influence.

Today, the Tang Group was officially founded, festooned with lanterns and banners. Not only did prominent officials come to offer their congratulations out of respect for Prince Ming, but Prince Yu and Prince Geng also attended personally. Even major martial arts sects sent representatives—no one knew how they had heard of it. After the commotion subsided, Tang Yi and his associates gathered in a spacious room called the conference hall.

The oval-shaped conference room was filled to capacity. Tang Yi sat at the head seat, his expression grave, eyes sharp as he addressed the crowd: “The Tang Group is officially established today. Ahead lies arduous work. First, we will establish a communications company—let’s call it Eternal Communications. Our goal is to build communication base stations worldwide, ensuring our mobile network coverage reaches one hundred percent. We will fill every corner of the world with Tang Group’s mobile signal. Are you all confident?”

“Yes!” the crowd responded in unison.

“Good. Next, let’s assign tasks. Elder Zhu, here are the standards and requirements for building the communication base stations. Please familiarize yourself with them and then discuss with the other engineers…” Tang Yi proceeded to delegate responsibilities, thoroughly enjoying his role as leader.

Through Tang Yi’s efforts, within half a year, communication base stations were spread across the globe, achieving true one hundred percent coverage. Initially, Tang Yi had considered launching artificial satellites based on his memories, but he realized that with cultivators constantly flying through the skies, often clashing in midair, it wouldn’t be long before a satellite was knocked down—a loss he couldn’t afford. So, for now, he focused on establishing more relay stations in the mortal realm.

Each time a base station was completed, Tang Yi would set up protective arrays around it, ensuring the stations were impervious to wind, rain, and sunlight—even a magnitude nine earthquake wouldn’t faze them, unless the quake opened a chasm right beneath the station and swallowed it whole. Thus, the stations would remain safe for centuries. Of course, upgrades required human intervention, and Tang Yi specially designed access keys—station access cards—to allow authorized personnel to freely enter and exit the arrays.

Alongside the construction of the base stations, the Tang Group launched several mobile phone models. Upon release, they were eagerly snapped up by merchants. The devices were incredibly convenient, whether for communicating with family or fellow merchants. When businesspeople met, exchanging phone numbers became essential for maintaining contact. Without one, you’d hardly dare claim to be a merchant. People have a natural inclination to compete—if others have something, you must have it too, lest you be seen as outdated.

In a certain tavern—

“I heard that next year, Eternal Communications, a subsidiary of the Tang Group, will launch a device for visual calls, called the Vision Treasure,” said one patron, divulging inside news.

“Come on, that’s old news. Newspapers and magazines ran advertisements just yesterday. I’ve also heard the Tang Group has established a new company, something like Tang Television and Film Company. Supposedly, those opera performers are now called artists, and they’re planning to turn operas into television films, so people can watch performances at home,” replied another patron.

“I hear that to watch the home performances, you’ll need to buy a television device. But it’s said to require electricity just like electric lamps. Right now, apart from a few major cities, the Song Dynasty doesn't have electricity nationwide. How are we supposed to watch? Will the government electrify the entire country?” wondered a third patron.

“That’s impossible. The Song Dynasty clearly stipulates that electrical devices and cars are strictly limited due to their environmental impact. This policy has been enforced for over a thousand years. Haven’t you noticed that only the capital allows oil-powered cars? They're not permitted elsewhere!” the first patron retorted.

“Heh, you clearly haven’t studied properly. Didn’t you see the Tang Group’s advertisements?” the second patron chuckled.

“Oh? What’s that? We haven’t seen anything,” the third patron asked in confusion.