Chapter 357: The Sealed Great Demon

Now that the attack on Batavia was imminent, Lin Qian was in no hurry to return to the General Staff headquarters for a meeting.

For one thing, Zheng Zhilong and Lü Zhou had not yet returned from Annan, so the meeting was not yet fully attended.

For this attack on Batavia, the Great Xia Navy was dispatching its full force, and a naval genius like Zheng Zhilong absolutely had to be brought along.

For another, according to He Sai, the best time to attack Batavia was March. Now that it was spring, the northwest monsoon prevailed over East Asia, and the fleet would have favorable winds all the way south. At the very most, reaching Batavia would take only a month.

Calculating it that way, the fleet should set sail in late January or early February. Sailing too early would instead expose their strategic intent and put the Dutch on guard. Moreover, even without Lin Qian, the staff officers were not idle—since the Battle of Poyang Lake, the Naval Staff had been studying Batavia. Fleet composition, personnel arrangements, sailing routes, and supply points along the way were all already mapped out clearly. Amphibious landing drills and battleship maneuver exercises had already been conducted three or four times.

Third, the navy had received a new batch of guns, and Foye was rushing to finish the final order. Moreover, the Great Xia Gear Workshop was also at Foye, and the machine tools had made progress as well. Compared to Batavia, gears, machine tools, and the modern industry they represented were the true top priority.

As long as industrialization got underway, even if the entire Great Xia Navy were wiped out and all overseas colonies lost, they could still develop by exploiting the domestic market through the scissors differential.

That was why Lin Qian came to see for himself the moment he heard the news.

Compared to his last visit, Foshan's natural environment had improved considerably. Within a radius of ten li, there was finally some green, and quite a few hilltops had even grown small saplings.

On the spiderweb-like waterways of the Pearl River, large numbers of sand junks plied back and forth carrying cargo. Their holds were loaded with iron ore, coke, and the like. Quite a bit of coal dust spilled out through the gaps in the deck planks, dyeing the entire river gray.

At several narrow stretches of channel, there were even spectacular traffic jams of boats, backing up five or six li. Some boatmen slept in their cabins, some played leaf cards on deck, and others started preparing meals early. Judging from their calm demeanor, they were clearly accustomed to such congestion.

Even Lin Qian's own boat got stuck midway, forcing him to go ashore at the nearest point and switch to a carriage on Guang'ao Road to reach Foshan.

Ye Yifan, who was accompanying him, shared the carriage with Lin Qian. On the ride, Lin Qian lifted the curtain and looked outside, saying, "Why is the waterway so badly congested?" Ye Yifan said, "Foshan produces neither iron nor coal—both must be shipped in by sand junk.

Although the waterways here are dense, most are shallow and narrow, so they get blocked up. The county office has assigned dedicated personnel to clear the jams, and at most they take half a day to disperse." "Does the provincial government have any plans to address this?"

Ye Yifan couldn't help but smile wryly. "Your Majesty means building a canal, doesn't he?"

Lin Qian thought for a moment and said, "Foshan is adjacent to the Pearl River; building another canal would be redundant. We need to use some more ingenious methods."

Ye Yifan clasped his hands and said, "Your Majesty is wise. The provincial government did consider building a canal, but the lower Pearl River has gentle currents and severe siltation. A canal would require enormous manpower and funds to maintain—it would become a fiscal burden instead.

I think the better approach is to straighten the existing channels by cutting off bends, dredging the silt, adding more moorings, and using overland transport to connect the rest.

To that end, the provincial government has already allocated eight thousand taels of silver to repair the roads around Foshan..."

As they spoke, the carriage arrived at Foshan and stopped. Lin Qian stepped out and recalled that while aboard the Jingming, He Sai had briefly described Batavia's urban layout.

Batavia was built at the mouth of the Ciliwung River. The Dutch had converted the Ciliwung into an urban canal, allowing the East India Company's small merchant vessels to sail directly into the city center along the waterway.

The Netherlands itself was low-lying, with soft soil, gentle currents, and weak flood peaks. Their hydraulic engineering skills were presumably quite good, especially in small-scale water conservancy—cutting bends, building tide gates, opening diversion channels, and reinforcing embankments were all areas where they excelled.

This complemented the Chinese craftsmen's expertise in taming great rivers perfectly.

It seemed that after taking Batavia, hydraulic engineering talent should also be recruited.

"Your Majesty, this old man is late in receiving you..." Huo Ying, the head of Foye, had been waiting at the harbor, and only when he heard that Lin Qian had switched to a carriage midway did he rush over hastily, clasping his hands in apology while panting for breath.

Lin Qian waved his hand, indicating it was no matter.

He looked toward the city of Foshan and saw more than a dozen tower furnaces over three zhang tall rising from the ground. The furnace bodies were originally yellow but had been blackened by smoke—especially around the charging ports and iron-tapping holes, where they shone with a black luster.

The tower furnaces were wrapped in rings of shiny black iron bands, surrounded by thick support columns and scaffolding made of ironwood.

The posts had been blackened by coal smoke, with dark red scorch marks seeping deep into the wood grain, like dried bloodstains, making the whole thing look even more like a demon-sealing tower. Combined with the lingering haze of smoke, the bursts of flame when furnaces were opened, the dense clusters of dwellings, the howl of bellows, the hiss of molten iron being tapped, the clanging of craftsmen hammering, and the work chants of boatmen on the river—

All of Foshan was enveloped in a strange beauty of Eastern steampunk.

Lin Qian exclaimed in admiration, "I see quite a few more tower furnaces have been erected! What's the current pig iron output in Foshan?"

Huo Ying hastily said, "By this old man's conservative estimate, Foye can now produce seventy million jin of pig iron a year! All of this output is thanks to Your Majesty's guidance." Under Ming rule, Foshan had been the iron capital of the Ming—half the empire's pig iron was supplied by Foye. Compared to those days, output had more than doubled.

Nearly all military and civilian ironware in Great Xia came from Foshan. Setting aside civilian use, the gun barrels, bayonets, and artillery shells for the Great Xia army alone consumed enormous amounts. The fleet dispatched against Batavia had twenty-three warships with more than eight hundred cannons in total. A single broadside volley fired over five thousand jin of shot; two volleys would be enough iron to cast one Ruyi Jingu Bang.

In a single large-scale naval battle, the sheer weight of cannonballs fired would exceed two hundred thousand jin.

Even while Great Xia continuously waged wars of expansion, civilian iron prices kept falling, agricultural tools for Water Zhenla were supplied in full, and there was even surplus for export.

Behind all of this was the iron production base of Foye holding everything up.

Huo Ying, as its head, had also made no small contribution.

Lin Qian praised Huo Ying a few times, then said he wanted to see the guns.

Huo Ying led the way, and before long they arrived at the musket workshop, where a large number of blacksmiths were hammering gun barrels beside furnaces with a clanging din.

Huo Ying picked up a flintlock musket from against the wall and presented it with both hands, saying, "Your Majesty, this is the gun—the Foye Type 02 flintlock musket. The Navy Department ordered five hundred, and these thirty are the final batch."

The gun was extremely large and extremely heavy—even with Huo Ying's arm strength, holding it with both hands was a struggle.

At the midpoint of the gun body was a right-angle hook forged from wrought iron, about one cun thick, with fine anti-slip teeth on the inner side.

After Lin Qian defeated Sultan Mudah, he had captured a batch of matchlock muskets from the Sultan's guard. Those guns had this kind of hook, which could catch on the bulwark during naval combat to absorb recoil—a perfect balance between range, power, and recoil, ideal for long-distance naval engagements.

So Lin Qian had handed that batch of the Sultan's guard matchlocks to Foye for research and development. Evidently, the gun before him was the result.

Lin Qian took the gun and found it was indeed heavy—at least fifteen or sixteen jin. Moreover, the long barrel shifted the center of gravity forward, making it hard to hold and very difficult to aim while standing. He casually found a window and rested it there—the right-angle hook fit the window perfectly, and the gun's effective weight dropped dramatically.

Furthermore, the handguard behind the hook had been specially made flat, so even if Lin Qian let go, the gun wouldn't tilt. Thanks to the center of gravity, it also wouldn't slide into the sea, and it was easier to hold.

Lin Qian gripped the stock and gave it a tug, simulating the recoil of firing—the hook caught the window frame and didn't budge.

Huo Ying introduced it: "This gun is four chi six cun in total length, with a bore of seven fen five li, and weighs fourteen jin three liang. The shot weighs two liang, the powder charge is one liang six qian. Within one hundred twenty paces it can penetrate armor and pierce one-cun-thick ship planking; within two hundred paces it can still harass the enemy's deck."

Lin Qian handled the gun with great interest, then tested the flintlock mechanism. Seeing its fine workmanship and tight fit, he was very satisfied. He looked around and said, "Where's the firing range?"

Huo Ying was stunned. Geng Wu urged, "Your Majesty, this is after all a new gun..."

Lin Qian said, "Less talk. Lead the way."

Huo Ying said, "Your Majesty, please follow this old man."

Lin Qian nodded in agreement and personally carried the gun for a stretch of road, only to find his shoulder aching painfully and his arms quickly growing sore.

To put it plainly, this gun was a matchlock from the Sultan's guard with enhanced firepower and range. Its design purpose was for shipboard use, and since it was for shipboard use, comfort while carrying it on the march was naturally not a consideration.

At present, the musket configurations of various nations' navies differed slightly, generally divided into two schools. One was the light matchlock musket represented by the Portuguese. Their tactical philosophy was to sacrifice power and range to ensure lightness and a high rate of fire, establishing superiority in boarding actions.

The other school was the heavy matchlock musket represented by the Ottomans and the Spanish. They were both continental military powers whose enemies were heavily armored, demanding much of formation and firepower—so the preferences of their armies influenced their navies as well.

The Great Xia Navy, since its founding, had engaged in boarding actions barely a handful of times. Equipping light matchlocks would be pointless. Facing engagement distances that were extremely long, the marines on warships armed with the Foye Type 01 flintlock could only stare helplessly—only this kind of heavy musket gave them room to perform.

After carrying the gun for a stretch, Lin Qian tossed it to Geng Wu to carry, and the group soon arrived at the firing range.

The range was built in a mountain hollow, with natural earthen slopes stopping the bullets. Soldiers guarded the perimeter, and craftsmen were currently test-firing guns there. Huo Ying had them vacate the firing positions.

Geng Wu sidled up to Huo Ying and asked, "This gun... is it reliable?"

Huo Ying said, "Don't worry, this musket is made for shipboard use. It's not afraid of being overweight—what we fear is accidents. That's why the materials are solid; it won't easily burst the barrel." Geng Wu muttered a curse under his breath: "Damn it! What do you mean 'won't easily burst'? Have you had barrels burst before?"

Huo Ying scratched his head and said, "It burst five or six times, but that was during the trial manufacturing stage. There's no problem now."

Geng Wu threatened in a low voice, "There had better not be a problem, or else..."

Threatened like this, Huo Ying felt uncertain himself. As it happened, there was a musket in the firing range that the craftsmen had already inspected—the same model. He examined it carefully, then swapped it for the new musket in Lin Qian's hands.

Using an inspected musket was certainly foolproof.

Lin Qian took the musket and said, "Cartridge!"

Huo Ying handed over a small paper packet with both hands, about the size of a thumb, wrapped on the outside in mulberry bark paper and oiled paper.

One end of the cartridge was folded shut, while the other end was bound with white cotton thread, cinching around a faint spherical shape—that was the lead ball inside.

Following Huo Ying's instructions, Lin Qian placed the musket on a specially made wooden wall, hooked the swivel hook in place, opened the flash pan of the flintlock mechanism, bit open one end of the paper cartridge, and poured the gunpowder into the powder chamber.

It was all high-quality corned gunpowder.

Although Daxia's gunpowder was high in purity and precise in proportion, corned gunpowder was not their original invention. In this era, armies both East and West uniformly used corned gunpowder. Qi Jiguang's *Jixiao Xinshu* had specifically recorded the method of making corned gunpowder—there was no technical barrier to it.

Lin Qian then closed the powder chamber, stood the musket upright, stuffed the remaining gunpowder along with the cotton-wrapped lead ball into the barrel, and used the ramrod to press it down firmly. Because the barrel was very long, this action was rather strenuous. Given the length of this barrel, only a man of Han stature could use it—if a Dutchman were to use it, the muzzle would reach above his head, let alone loading it.

After packing the charge, Lin Qian cocked the hammer, upon which the Qingzhou stone had been polished sharp as a knife.

A hundred paces away, someone had already replaced the target with a fresh wooden board.

Huo Ying said the target was one inch thick and two meters on each side, but to Lin Qian's eyes a hundred paces away, the target looked as small as a soybean. If someone were nearsighted, the target would be too small to even see.

Lin Qian aimed for a long while, then decisively pulled the trigger. The Qingzhou stone struck the frizzen, a few sparks scattered into the powder chamber, then the powder in the chamber smoked and burst into flame. With a muffled *crack*, the bullet left the barrel, the musket body jerked backward violently, and the recoil was entirely absorbed by the wall—Lin Qian's shoulder felt almost nothing. A thick cloud of smoke billowed from the muzzle, and the gunshot echoed across the firing range.

Someone went to check the target, then a voice relayed back: "Missed."

Huo Ying said apologetically, "There's a problem with this musket's front sight. Let this old man adjust it again."

Lin Qian smiled and said, "No need. Geng Wu, you give it a try."

Geng Wu took the musket and cartridge, loaded it with extreme deftness, hooked the swivel in place, then suddenly stopped before firing and made a show of adjusting the front sight. Lin Qian laughed and scolded, "Just fire your shot already."

"Alright!" Geng Wu acknowledged, then pulled the trigger.

This musket had great power and a great report—its sound was formidable, somewhat similar to a small cannon.

Geng Wu rose, cleaning the barrel as he praised, "Fine musket!"

Huo Ying brought over three wooden poles from the side and laid them on the ground, just forming a tripod.

"The swivel hook on the musket can combine with this stand, so soldiers can fire while standing."

Because it had to resist recoil and also prevent tipping from the ship's pitching, the tripod's spread was extremely wide, far exceeding the musket itself.

On a narrow deck, its practicality was probably limited, but at least it was a very creative attempt.

At this moment, the target-reporting calls came in sequence from the distance.

Huo Ying listened and explained, "That shot pierced clean through the wooden board."

Lin Qian praised, "Impressive power."

With this musket, the shipboard marine corps would finally no longer be dead weight—when attacking Batavia, they could finally play some role. But this musket was too heavy and clumsy, completely unsuitable for close combat, and it wasn't even fitted with a bayonet. The landing marines would still have to use the Type-01 flintlock musket.

Lin Qian had Geng Wu fire several more test shots to gauge fatigue levels.

While the firing was going on, Lin Qian said to Huo Ying, "Was this musket made with the machine tools from the Fo-ye workshop?"

Huo Ying said somewhat sheepishly, "No... it was still made by hand. But it was done using the assembly-line and fine division of labor Your Majesty described, so it was faster than the usual method."

Lin Qian asked, "How is the progress on the machine tools at Fo-ye workshop now? Are they usable?"

"They're usable now. The ammunition molds, rudder stocks, capstan spindles, cannon barrel exterior truing, and cannon bore rifling are all done with machine tools. Also the iron fittings for the hull, the winch axle sleeves..."

The further Huo Ying went, the more professional his terminology became—Lin Qian even started to lose track.

In general, a machine tool couldn't produce a complete item on its own. For example, casting an entire cannon—that couldn't be done; it could only bore out the barrel. Lin Qian could only ask about what he knew: "So you can bore cannon barrels now?"

Huo Ying nodded and said, "Yes, we can!"

"Come on, let's go take a look!" Lin Qian said, calling Geng Wu along as he headed back. The wooden board target now had four or five bullet holes in it.

Huo Ying led the way, and they soon arrived before a courtyard beside the river. Before they even entered, they could hear a shocking din. Soldiers stood guard outside the courtyard gate, each with cotton wads stuffed in their ears.

A basket sat by the courtyard entrance, filled with cotton. Huo Ying took out two wads and handed them to Lin Qian, pointing at his ears and shouting, "Your Majesty must plug them up, or your ears won't be able to take it."

Lin Qian plugged his ears as instructed—the soundproofing effect could only be described as better than nothing.

The group walked into the courtyard and were immediately greeted by the sight of a dozen or more machine tools at work. Workpieces and cutting tools ground and clashed against each other, iron filings flying everywhere.

On wooden racks and stone blocks between the machine tools, golden-hued cannon barrel blanks awaited processing, neatly stacked alongside iron hoops and iron fittings of unknown purpose. Craftsmen worked around the lathes, dressed in short jackets with bound sleeves, cuffs and collars tightly fastened.

The treadle operators stared intently at their workpieces, controlling the rhythm; the milling operators gripped their cranks steadily, applying even force; the craftsmen by the boring machines watched the water flow and feed rate; young apprentices hurried back and forth, delivering cutting tools, measuring instruments, and lubricating grease—a scene of bustling activity yet perfect order.

The air was thick with the faint metallic tang peculiar to ironwork, mingled with the oily smell of machine lubricant.

The courtyard was extremely damp, with puddles of water all over the ground—that was the cooling water dripped onto the workpieces.

Lin Qian looked around. These machine tools were all made of wood, stone, and iron, each of different shape and different working principle. There was a strange, jarring sense of modern industry invading the *Tiangong Kaiwu*.

Huo Ying shouted introductions from up ahead: "There are twelve machine tools here in total. According to the definitions Your Majesty gave, the ones where the workpiece rotates are called lathes, the ones where the cutting tool rotates are called boring machines, and the ones where the tool and workpiece move back and forth are called milling machines.

Each has its own function—the cannon barrels are bored out by this fellow here..."

As he spoke, Huo Ying stopped beside a great beast. This boring machine was the largest in the entire courtyard, nearly four zhang in total length and as tall as a man. Its frame was a wooden structure bound with iron bands, and beneath the bed lay two cast-iron guide rails.

The left end of the boring machine held the workpiece in place, while the right end was a long, slender steel boring bar with a boring tool embedded at its tip.

The right end of the boring bar connected to a gearbox, which in turn connected to a drive shaft running all the way to the river channel beside the courtyard, where a water wheel stood upright, powering the boring machine. During boring operations, stability was paramount. To avoid vibration, this boring machine was built with excessive material—the whole thing used thick, sturdy ironwood, and to prevent the wooden frame from warping, bands of wrought iron were cinched around it every few chi.

Its overall appearance was like a great demon sealed away.

And to avoid wear and vibration, the various transmission parts of the boring machine—especially the gears and main spindle—were coated with copious amounts of lubricating oil, giving the air an unavoidable sour, acrid smell.

Standing in this courtyard was a stimulus not only to the ears, but also to the nose.

Lin Qian had arrived at just the right moment—a cannon barrel blank was being hoisted up for boring. The workers first laid manila ropes on the ground, then spread thick cloth and oiled paper over the ropes, and finally, with a dozen or more men working together, carefully placed the bronze cannon barrel on top. They then used an A-frame wooden hoist to lift the manila ropes and set the barrel blank onto the boring machine.

After the hoist was released, the workers used manila ropes to bind and secure the bronze cannon onto the boring machine.

The ropes were tied with great care. After they were fastened, someone even led an ox over and gave every rope end a hard, vigorous tug.

Huo Ying explained, "The cannon blank must be clamped down tightly. If there's even the slightest looseness, the bore will be ruined by the boring process."

Lin Qian asked, "Is this an eighteen-pounder?"

"Yes, an eighteen-pounder. This is the largest barrel the current boring machine can cut. And it has to be a bronze blank cast by the lost-wax method—only bronze blanks can be cut by the boring tool. The white-iron ones the Ming army uses won't work; they'd shatter the cutter."

As he spoke, the boring tool slowly entered the barrel. Several water bags hung directly above the cutter—one spraying rapeseed oil into the bore, another drizzling clean water over the barrel.

A dull metallic grinding sound echoed through the courtyard as the boring tool scraped away the casting lumps and burrs inside the bore inch by inch. Fine yellow bronze shavings fell like snowflakes, rustling down from the muzzle and piling ever thicker in the long chip trough beneath the machine bed.

A craftsman stood at the side of the machine, both hands gripping the wooden handle, pushing forward a little at intervals to drive the boring rod deeper into the bore at an extremely slow pace. After each small advance, he stopped, picked up a wooden bore gauge, bent down to probe the muzzle with the gauge head to compare the bore diameter, and repeatedly confirmed the dimensions were even and true before continuing.

An apprentice walked back and forth carrying an oil can, periodically topping up the gearbox with tallow-like beef fat and greasing the drive shaft with lard. Crude, wasteful—and yet somehow coherent, carrying a sense of savagery and civilization coexisting side by side.

Huo Ying said, "In the past, the Bocarro foundry cast cannons using the lost-wax method as a single piece, with craftsmen polishing the inner walls by hand. The bores came out uneven in thickness, and polishing a single cannon took at least twenty days—and not everyone could do it. Now with the boring machine, we can bore out a cannon in five days." As he spoke, Huo Ying led Lin Qian over to look at the finished pieces. In one corner of the courtyard, a large number of bored cannon barrels lay on the ground, sour rapeseed oil still trickling slowly from their muzzles.

Huo Ying picked one with less oil, had a craftsman prop it upright, then fetched a candle and a rag. He smiled at Lin Qian with pride and said, "Your Majesty, please examine the bore."

With that, he lit the rag and tossed it into the bore. The barrel wall was smooth and even, and in the firelight, there was scarcely a pit or depression to be seen.

Huo Ying said smugly, "Barrels bored this way—every single one rivals the finest master at Bocarro. And the best part is, the variation between barrels is extremely small. Give me a cannonball mold..."

Someone handed him a cannonball mold, and Huo Ying took out a white-iron cannonball from it, then had the eighteen-pounder laid flat. He held the ball up to the muzzle and compared their fit.

Seeing this, Geng Wu suddenly let out a sharp hiss. Lin Qian also felt a stir of excitement—the cannonball fit against the muzzle almost perfectly, with barely a gap visible!

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen