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Chapter 343: The Second Woman Who Knew Zhao Yu Was a Transmigrator

~7 min read 1,328 words

The Imperial Scientific Research Institute sits at the northwest corner of Genyue’s Wanshui Mountain, built alongside a tributary of the Jinshui River, preserving the traditional Song palace style of upturned eaves and bracket sets, yet subtly infused with elements from the early Industrial Revolution.

Within the vermilion palace walls, iron-framed corridors weave through, copper wind vanes hang beneath glazed tiles, and beside the stone lions at the gate stand two brass gears, each as tall as a man.

Inside the courtyard, the most prominent feature is the central brick-and-stone chimney, emitting a pale gray plume twenty-four hours a day; inside it are three horizontal steam engines, their brass cylinders wrapped in wooden casings for insulation, piston rods connected to massive gears that turn the institute’s main power shaft, driving conveyor systems to every workshop—the clanking of machinery blending with the hiss of escaping steam.

Besides the chimney, the most striking sight is the nearby observatory, which retains the traditional Song-era elevated platform structure, but atop it no longer rests only the Hun Tian Yi—instead, over a dozen high-power telescopes are mounted, and below the platform hangs a giant mechanical clock made of gear assemblies, also serving as the morning bell.

On the Jinshui River, the institute’s experimental steamship is moored, its ebony hull fitted with an iron chimney; the crew no longer row, but adjust steam pressure via brass valves, and as the stern propeller churns, the splashing water startles the orioles in the willows along the bank into frantic flight.

The courtyard also contains a massive workshop, where craftsmen gather in small groups, each absorbed in their own tasks.

On the inner shelves stand models of steamships; beside them, shelves hold train models of various shapes; on another dusty shelf rest models of several airplanes.

At this moment, many craftsmen are gathered around a “car,” its body crafted from elm wood, unusually massive—yet even so, every space except the single seat is entirely occupied by the steam engine.

After Zhao Yu’s party entered the Imperial Scientific Research Institute, they saw that in the main building’s tiled hall, dozens of rosewood tables lined the room, not with inkstones, brushes, paper, and ink, but with glass beakers, brass scales, and precisely calibrated wooden rulers. Researchers in round-collared lan shirts were manually winding coils around magnets to assemble the simplest electric motors; beside them lay piles of diverse DC motors, powered by steam-driven magnets, their copper wires connected to incandescent bulbs now glowing and warming.

In the center of the hall hung a brush-written inscription: “Ge Wu Zhi Zhi.”

These four characters were written by Zhao Yu himself.

Soldiers armed with crossbows or Li Lin’s guns lined both inside and outside the institute; their guard was as strict as that of the imperial palace, revealing Zhao Yu’s profound regard for this place.

Upon seeing Zhao Yu arrive, every soldier saluted him immediately.

The researchers who had been frowning at spinning gears and steaming metal devices also hurried to bow upon spotting Zhao Yu—though a few, lost in their work, failed to notice him or forgot to bow; Zhao Yu did not punish them.

Zhao Yu walked straight to the top floor of the main building.

Before even entering, the mingled scent of pine oil and metal rust hit him.

On the top floor, blueprints sprawled across tables and floors: disassembled diagrams of trains, of cars, even rough sketches of airplanes.

In the corner stood three precision machine tools, their cast-iron frames gleaming with freshly cut edges; unpolished brass connecting rods still clamped in the guides; beside them lay piles of iron filings and broken wooden gears, and half-a-man-high stacks of steel saw blades stored in coarse porcelain jars; the metallic hum of lathes rose and fell with the clatter of eunuch craftsmen machining parts.

Some palace attendants held hemp paper to record data, using abacuses to verify steam pressure values, the clack of beads mingling with the ticking of brass pressure gauges.

By the window, a long elm table was completely covered: one side held porcelain bowls from Song imperial kilns, filled with tweezers and chisels; the other side was scribbled with formulas calculated on abacus, dense and cryptic as celestial script.

In a separate glass room at the center, Ma Xiao Jiao was personally assembling an internal combustion engine, now at its final stage.

In the glass room, Ma Xiao Jiao, whose chest bore the size of two melons, crouched half-kneeling before a cast-iron workbench; her gray work pants showed faded white at the knees, accentuating her sharp waistline. Her black hair was loosely pinned with a brass hairpin, a few strands clinging to her damp forehead, speckled with iron filings, unnoticed.

Though over thirty, her features still carried a trace of unshed innocence; as she leaned forward to adjust the engine’s piston, her nose wrinkled slightly, like a focused little beast—who could guess she was already a mother of five sons and one daughter, her eldest son now sixteen or seventeen?

When she wiped sweat from her cheek, revealing the thin calluses on her wrists from years of gripping tools, an air of rugged vigor emerged—no powder-painted court lady could match this: her hands could perform delicate experiments and precisely turn wrenches to tighten gleaming brass bolts with perfect precision.

Her work pants pockets bulged, revealing half a scrap of hemp paper with parameters; at her feet lay a pair of embroidered soft-soled shoes she had kicked aside as inconvenient, replaced by a pair of thick-soled cloth shoes easy to slip on and off.

At this moment, she tilted her head to listen to the exhaust note, a faint smile on her lips—not the gentle grace of a court lady, but the bright triumph of a child solving a puzzle, her eyes sparkling as if reflecting the sparks of the turning engine.

Zhao Yu walked behind Ma Xiao Jiao, unbothered by her grease-stained clothes, and swept her up in his arms.

Ma Xiao Jiao cried out: “Wait! My internal combustion engine is about to succeed—just give me a little more time!”

“Work is never finished. Tomorrow is just as good.”

As he spoke, Zhao Yu hoisted Ma Xiao Jiao onto his shoulder and carried her out.

Ma Xiao Jiao pleaded: “Give me one more hour—even half an hour—I’ll succeed!”

But Zhao Yu ignored her entirely and carried her away.

Those in the Imperial Scientific Research Institute were used to this sight; whenever Ma Xiao Jiao became so absorbed in her research that she forgot to rest, Zhao Yu would come personally to take her away, never allowing her to exhaust herself.

In truth, on the way back, Ma Xiao Jiao had already resigned herself—but Zhao Yu made no move to set her down, carrying her all the way to her palace.

Seeing Ma Xiao Jiao carried back again, Xi Duo hurried to arrange her bathwater, prepare her evening meal, and ready the palace for Zhao Yu to spend the night.

When the bathwater was ready, Zhao Yu himself carried Ma Xiao Jiao into the bathhouse and even helped the palace attendants wash her.

Even now, Ma Xiao Jiao complained: “Your Majesty, give me just a little more time—I will surely develop the internal combustion engine. Your Majesty knows, once we have it, our Song’s mechanical power will leap forward, no longer bound by the massive size and cumbersome setup of steam engines. The internal combustion engine can be fitted into cars, trains, even airplanes, revolutionizing our transportation with speed and efficiency. Moreover, it will drive all manner of machinery, aiding agriculture and boosting industrial production…”

Zhao Yu listened in silence, gently scrubbing the grease and iron filings from her body and hair.

When Ma Xiao Jiao finished complaining, Zhao Yu said: “A little time won’t matter. Eat well, sleep well, and resume tomorrow—it’s not too late.”

Now that she was already brought back, no amount of pleading would make Zhao Yu let her return to her work.

End of Chapter

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