diymy Chapter 40 Firearms Workshop
Chapter 40 Firearms Workshop
In the wilderness outside Jinan, wild green grass grew rampant, attempting to conceal the corpses of those who had perished from famine and war along the roadside. Although the weather was warming, the world was more desolate than in the dead of winter. News of the disastrous defeat at Sarhu in Liaodong spread like a plague among the people, rumors flew everywhere, causing iron and grain prices to soar three times a day, and widespread panic ensued.
South of the city, at the chaotic rocky hill, lies Lu Ji's camp.
The area is now completely enclosed by a two-zhang-high rammed earth wall. Thorns are planted on top of the wall, and simple watchtowers have been built at the four corners, with patrols day and night. Outsiders only think that this scholar Lu is afraid of marauding soldiers and bandits, so he built a turtle shell to hide in, but they don't know what kind of thunder is brewing inside this wall.
In the northwest corner of the camp, inside the "Special Equipment Repair Shop," which was designated as a restricted area, the air was hot and heavy.
Unlike the bustling blacksmith shops outside, this place was eerily quiet. The windows of the low, mud-brick houses were tightly shut, and wooden signs reading "No Smoking" hung at the doors. Two bodyguards stood guard there, sweating profusely, barely daring to breathe, their eyes like eagles, watching everyone who approached.
Inside the earthen house, there was a suffocating smell of sulfur and charcoal dust, mixed with the sour smell of sweat from the craftsmen.
"Stop! Hold on tight! That's a copper hammer, not a blacksmith's sledgehammer!"
Zhao Tie, shirtless, sweat trickled down his bronze back, pooling on the cloth belt around his waist. He stared intently at the bronze hammer in his apprentice Xiao Liu's hand, his eyes bulging like copper bells, and roared in a low voice, "If this hammer misses and sparks fly, none of us will be left with a single piece of flesh! If you want to die, don't drag the rest down with you!"
Xiao Liuzi's body stiffened, the copper hammer in his hand hovering in mid-air, hesitant to bring it down. Just now, his wrist had slipped slightly due to the sweat, causing the hammer to scrape against the edge of the stone mortar with a soft "sizzle." Although no sparks flew, the metallic friction made the backs of the men in the room instantly soaked with sweat, as if they had already stepped into the gates of hell.
This is the most primitive method of "dry pounding of medicine".
To thoroughly mix and compact the powders of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal, immense external force was required. However, gunpowder in its dry powder state was extremely sensitive, and the slightest mistake could lead to disaster. The craftsmen were hesitant and timid, resulting in extremely low efficiency and uneven density in the resulting powder cakes—some as hard as stone, others as loose as sand.
"Still not working?"
As the heavy curtain was lifted, a blinding ray of sunlight streamed into the dimly lit room, dust motes dancing in the beam of light. Lu Yan walked in.
He wore a breathable blue cloth robe and held a folding fan in his hand, which he did not open, only using it to drive away the odor. Despite the stuffy heat inside, his collar was still neatly buttoned, exuding a calm to the point of being cold.
"Boss." Zhao Tie hurriedly put down his work, wiped the sweat and grime from his face, and gave an embarrassed smile. "This work is too grueling. If we do it lightly, the medicine powder will dissipate, and we won't have the strength; if we do it heavily, everyone gets nervous. In a whole day, we only manage to produce seven or eight pounds, which isn't even enough for those greenhorns to hear."
Lu Yan walked to the stone mortar and picked up a little bit of the freshly ground medicine powder.
The powder was mottled in color, with obvious yellow-white particles mixed in with the black, clearly indicating that it was not mixed evenly. He gently rubbed it between his fingertips, and the powder dispersed.
"This drug won't work." Lu Yan shook his head, his tone calm but firm. "It separates severely and isn't dense enough. It won't burn evenly in the barrel. Either it will 'sparkle' and release the gunpowder gas, or it will cause a localized explosion that leads to a barrel burst. With this kind of drug, our musketeers will kill their own men before they even kill the enemy."
"Change it?" Zhao Tie smiled wryly, spreading his hands. "Boss, this is a recipe passed down from Qi Shaobao. We've been doing it this way for decades. What else can we do besides being more careful? We're already risking our lives."
"There was no other way before, but now I'm here."
Lu Yan turned around, his gaze sweeping over the clutter piled in the corner, finally pointing to the pile of discarded hardwood. "Uncle Zhao, have someone bring over that jar of aged liquor. Also, remove this copper hammer and have the carpenter carve out several large hardwood pestles, made of jujube or sandalwood, with rounded heads. Like the kind that country women use to pound rice, but ten times larger."
"Wine? A wooden pestle?" Zhao Tie was taken aback, clearly not following Lu Yan's train of thought. "Wood is so light, how can it be as solid as a copper hammer? Besides... wine is for drinking."
"Wood doesn't spark, life is more important than strength. As for the issue of compaction..." A glint of light flashed in Lu Yan's eyes, "wet the powder before compacting."
Under the horrified gazes of the craftsmen, Lu Yan personally took over. He took the wine jar handed to him by the shop assistant, broke the mud seal, and a strong aroma of wine instantly diluted the sulfur smell in the room. He slowly poured the strong liquor into the stone mortar, and the black medicinal powder shrank upon contact with water, making a slight absorbing sound.
"Master! You mustn't!" Zhao Tie stamped his feet anxiously, trying to stop him. "Saltpeter is most afraid of water! It will dissolve as soon as it sees water, and the medicine will be ruined! This is the material we've been saving for several days!"
"It won't be ruined."
Lu Yan rolled up his sleeves and reached directly into the stone mortar, kneading the moist medicinal powder vigorously, just like kneading dough. Black mud covered his hands, but he didn't care.
"The alcohol evaporates quickly, so it doesn't affect the medicinal properties. See, once it's wet, there's no dust, and we don't have to worry about static electricity causing a fire, right?"
Zhao Tie stared in disbelief at the lump of something that looked like a black dough ball. Indeed, in its moist state, it wouldn't explode no matter how much it was pounded, which solved the biggest safety hazard.
"The next step is crucial."
Lu Yan placed the medicine ball on the cutting board and pressed it flat with a wooden board, shaping it into a thick medicinal cake. Then he pointed to the copper wire mesh used to sift coal ash next to him.
"While it's not completely dry, use this sieve to crush it. I want it to be like millet grains—granules."
Although Zhao Tie was skeptical, seeing Lu Yan's determined look, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and do as he was told. He picked up the medicine cake and rubbed it on the copper mesh.
"Shhh..."
As he moved, countless even, plump black particles passed through the mesh and fell into the wooden tray below, piling up into a small mountain.
"Let it air dry in the shade. Remember, don't expose it to direct sunlight; let it air dry naturally." Lu Yan patted the black mud off his hands, took the damp towel handed to him by his guard, and wiped his hands. "Once it's completely dry, polish it with graphite powder. This stuff is called 'granular gunpowder'."
……
An hour later, at the shooting range on the back mountain.
The late spring sun was already quite scorching, making one's skin feel hot. Zhao Changying, accompanied by several guards, watched from a distance, their eyes filled with curiosity.
Zhao Tie squatted on the ground, holding a flintlock pistol, still somewhat skeptical. On the yellow earth in front of him were two piles of gunpowder of equal weight: one was traditional powder, and the other was freshly dried granules.
"Light the fire." Lu Yan stood upwind, his hands behind his back, his clothes swaying slightly in the wind.
Zhao Tie first lit the powder.
"Sizzle—"
The powdered gunpowder burned fiercely, emitting thick white smoke. The flames leaped up a foot high, but seemed to be suppressed by something, burning only layer by layer from the outside in. It took about two breaths to burn out, leaving a pool of black residue.
Then, Zhao Tie swallowed hard, his hands trembling, and brought the tinderbox close to the pile of granules.
The flame just touched the edge of the grain.
"boom!"
Without any warning, a short, explosive thud suddenly rang out!
A ball of orange-red fire rose into the air, the burning process completely obscured. All that could be seen was a blur, and the yellow earth on the ground was churned up in a circle by the heat wave. Even Zhao Tie, who was squatting just two steps away, was forced back by the heat wave and sat down on the ground with a thud, his eyebrows singed.
"My goodness!"
Ignoring his sore backside, Zhao Tie stared wide-eyed at the charred crater on the ground, his lips trembling. "This...how could this have been done with such force? Is this still the same pile of mud from before?!"
"This is called granulation."
Lu Yan stepped forward, looked at the pit, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Traditional powders are compacted, leaving no gaps inside, so oxygen can't get in, and the flame can only burn slowly; that's 'combustion.' But when it becomes granules, there are gaps between the granules, which are countless 'fire paths.' The flame can rush through all the granules in an instant, exploding inside and out; that's not called combustion, that's called 'explosion.'"
Lu Yan turned around, looked at Zhao Tie and Zhao Changying, and said in a deep and powerful voice:
"Uncle Zhao, from now on, our guns will be powered by this 'rice'. Its power is three times that of powdered gunpowder, and its range is at least fifty paces further! With it, our flintlock muskets will finally be able to penetrate the enemy's cotton armor."
Zhao Tie scrambled to his feet, grabbing a handful of the remaining pills, his hands trembling. As a veteran, he knew all too well what those extra fifty paces and three times the power meant—it was the difference between life and death!
"Master, you're amazing!" Zhao Tie's eyes were filled with fervor, the kind of worship a craftsman has for technology. "With this method, and that water-powered wooden pestle, we can make medicine ten times faster! I'll go arrange it right away, and we'll start working tonight!"
After dealing with the gunpowder, Lu Yan did not stop, and led Zhao Tie to the forging area next door.
This is where the real bottleneck lies.
A dozen or so broken iron pipes lay piled on the ground, resembling a twisted heap of scrap wood. These were Zhao Tie's "victories"—or rather, defeats—over the past few days.
"Still not working?" Lu Yan picked up a broken tube and examined the fracture. The surface was rough, with large grains, and it had a grayish-white color.
"No way." Zhao Tie deflated like a punctured balloon, throwing the large pair of pliers on the ground. "This batch of iron is scrap iron collected locally, and some of it was sent by the Fan family. It looks quite thick, but once it's heated red-hot, it crumbles like a biscuit. It crumbles when you hammer it even slightly, and it cracks when you try to roll it. This is typical 'heat brittleness.' This kind of scrap iron is too brittle to even use for making hoes, let alone rolling gun barrels."
Lu Yan frowned. After the Battle of Sarhu, the price of high-quality iron in the north skyrocketed and was controlled by the government. He could only buy iron from the black market or local small-scale smelters, and the quality was indeed worrying. Excessive sulfur content was a common problem with these crude irons.
"Returns are not possible, and there's no time to wait for better quality metal."
Lu Yan looked around and his gaze fell on a pile of white stones in the corner of the wall—these were limestones that the craftsmen had brought to repair and paint the wall.
His past engineering experience told him that this was the key to traditional desulfurization methods. In the absence of modern blast furnaces, limestone was the best flux and desulfurizing agent.
"Uncle Zhao, let's try anything, even if it's a last resort." Lu Yan walked over, picked up a piece of limestone, and weighed it in his hand. "When you remelt the next batch, add two shovelfuls of this stone powder to the molten iron."
"Stones?" Zhao Tie's eyes widened as he looked at Lu Yan as if he were a madman. "Boss, those are for building houses... If you throw them into molten iron, won't they just turn into slag? Will that iron even be usable?"
"This is a 'catalyst'." Lu Yan didn't explain the chemical reaction, but used a simple analogy: "Just like when a person has an upset stomach and needs medicine, this iron contains poison (sulfur), and this stone can absorb the poison from the iron and dissolve it in the slag to float away. Give it a try."
Zhao Tie was skeptical, but seeing Lu Yan's unwavering gaze, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and do as he was told.
……
As the sun sets, a new batch of iron is produced.
When the red-hot iron bar was clamped onto the anvil, Zhao Tie tentatively struck it with a hammer.
"when!"
The iron bar showed no signs of chipping or cracking; instead, it stretched obediently like dough. Zhao Tie's eyes lit up, and he rained blows with his hammer. The iron bar, red-hot, was exceptionally flexible, allowing him to bend it into shape without breaking it.
"It's done! It really worked!"
Zhao Tie tapped on the newly made gun barrel, listening to the clear, resonant echo, and was so excited he almost knelt before Lu Yan. "Adding a piece of broken stone and turning it into refined steel? Master, you have the magic of turning stone into gold! This is too amazing!"
The surrounding craftsmen also looked on in awe, as if Lu Yan was radiating divine light.
Looking at the blue-glowing gun barrel, Lu Yan breathed a sigh of relief. With pellet gunpowder and desulfurized steel pipes, his "line-up executions" tactic finally had a material basis.
"Uncle Zhao, this formula is top secret. No one is allowed to tell anyone except you and these core masters." Lu Yan lowered his voice. "Also, now that we have the standard, we need to increase production. I want to see one hundred qualified flintlock muskets within a month."
"No problem!" Zhao Tie was bursting with confidence at this moment, patting his chest to guarantee it.
"Also," Lu Yan pointed to a pile of scrap iron next to him, "keep all that brittle iron that was previously scrapped. Don't throw it away. I have a big use for it."
"Huh? What's the point of keeping that piece of junk?" Zhao Tie asked, puzzled.
"Sometimes, scrap can be a deadly weapon." Lu Yan smiled mysteriously, turned around and walked out of the workshop.