Chapter 206: Section 23: The Steel Ingot

In recent years, the Ming army had won victory after victory on the Liaodong Peninsula, while the Later Jin army suffered repeated defeats. Among the Han Chinese slaves in Liaodong, whispers spread privately that the Later Jin regime’s fortunes were exhausted. After the fifth year of Tianqi, Nurhaci’s brutal ethnic policies and the brilliant military victories of the Ming army in Liaonan formed a two‑pronged assault on the Later Jin Han troops. The lower‑ranking Han troops had long since set their hearts on Changsheng Island, and even the Later Jin’s core Han troops grew more anxious by the day — even a few Eight Banner company soldiers began to waver.

Under these circumstances, the situation south of Haizhou had already come to resemble a live volcano. The Han commoners and Han troops at the bottom “longed for change,” while the mid‑level Han commanders trimmed their sails. The only force still holding this volcano down and keeping it from erupting was the Later Jin Eight Banner field army at the top. Should the Eight Banner field army cease to exist, the long‑simmering hatred, discontent, and opportunism would erupt at once.

Huang Taiji had originally hoped to annihilate the Liaonan Ming army in a single stroke at the battle of Fuzhou, thereby intimidating the Han commoners and Han troops on the Liaodong Peninsula and restoring morale. But after the battle of Fuzhou, the Later Jin army no longer had even a toehold at the southern tip of the Liaodong Peninsula. The outcome of the battle of Fuzhou could leak at any moment, and no one knew what shape the news would take once it reached central Liaoning. In today’s atmosphere, where everyone wished death upon the Later Jin, the rumors would surely be ten thousand times worse than the truth.

Therefore, not long after the battle of Fuzhou ended, the Grand Beile Daišan had already set out with the surviving elite troops, racing by starlight to Gaizhou. These three Later Jin banner lords all understood that the commoners brought out of Fuzhou would certainly spread word of the Later Jin’s crushing defeat, and that the news would travel along the official roads faster than if it had wings. If anyone believed this “rumor” and concluded that the Later Jin main force had been wiped out, then the moment he raised his arm and shouted, the situation south of Haizhou would instantly become unmanageable.

Daišan was racing against time. If he could get his troops to Gaizhou in time, they believed they could still suppress the stirrings of the Han people, or at least intimidate those Han commanders. Of course, Manggūltai and Huang Taiji had prepared for the worst… The Later Jin army on the Liaodong Peninsula was now outwardly strong but inwardly hollow; they no longer had the strength to resist a large‑scale Han uprising. If any Han general started a rebellion, it would inevitably spread like wildfire. They hoped that Daišan could at least hold Gaizhou and secure the retreat route and supply lines for these tens of thousands of Later Jin field troops.

At daybreak, Manggūltai and Huang Taiji also led their troops north at top speed. On the road, seeing Manggūltai sunk in gloom, Huang Taiji smiled and comforted him: “Fifth Brother, victory and defeat are common fare for soldiers — why take it so to heart?”

Manggūltai’s worried look did not ease. His left arm hung in a broad cloth sling around his neck. “In the past, even when we lost, at least we knew where we lost. In these two battles with Huang Shi, I have no idea why we lost at all.”

Huang Taiji’s expression shifted several times before he finally said, somewhat deflated: “Mm. For the time being, this Huang Shi can probably only be overcome by wits, not by force — but only for the time being.”

At these words, Manggūltai’s eyes lit up and his neck suddenly stretched several inches toward Huang Taiji. “How to overcome him by wits?”

Huang Taiji had spoken offhandedly. When he heard the question, his gaze drifted; instead of answering Manggūltai, he fell into deep thought. After a long, long while, Huang Taiji gently shook his head: “What is called ‘overcoming by wits’ is nothing more than sowing discord. But against Huang Shi, that tactic is useless.”

Manggūltai drew back his neck, his face showing a faintly unconvinced expression, and then he gave a dismissive laugh: “That is no plan for heroes and true men! What I want to hear is a stratagem that can take Huang Shi’s head fair and square on the battlefield — an ambush, for instance.”

Huang Taiji sighed softly and said no more. Each of them sank into his own thoughts. The two rode in silence for another long while, until Manggūltai suddenly made a few grunting sounds. Huang Taiji looked up and saw that his Fifth Brother’s face had flushed bright red from holding something in.

“Uh… I just wanted to ask…” Manggūltai’s ears had even reddened a little. He stopped before finishing the sentence.

After a moment of surprise, Huang Taiji hastily leaned over and asked: “Is Fifth Brother wondering why I said sowing discord is useless against Huang Shi?”

“Mm, mm, yes.” Manggūltai’s voice had grown thin, and his face wore a somewhat bashful expression.

“Sowing discord, sowing discord — how can one sow discord between lord and subject who have no rift? How can one estrange civil and military officials who trust each other?” Although Huang Taiji did not know the core secrets of Changsheng Island, he had heard something of the relations between Huang Shi and the imperial court, the Dongjiang headquarters, the Dengzhou‑Laizhou command in Shandong, and the Liaodong Regional Military Commission. For the third time he shook his head helplessly: “First there must be a rift or estrangement; only then can the stratagem of sowing discord be used. If the relationship between the two sides is like that of Zhou Yu to Sun Ce, or Guan Yu and Zhang Fei to Liu Bei, then it is not called ‘overcoming by wits’ — it is called bringing humiliation upon oneself.”

…

Third day of the seventh month, fifth year of Tianqi, Changsheng Island.

After Huang Shi received the letter from the Changsheng Island main camp, he handed the troops over to Jin Qiude and Wu Mu and raced back to Changsheng Island on horseback.

He had barely set foot in the main camp when Bao Jiusun got word and hurried over. Upon meeting him, Bao Jiusun performed a deep bow: “Your subordinate pays his respects, my lord.”

Huang Shi impatiently cut short Bao Jiusun’s formal greeting and said urgently: “Dispense with the formalities. Take me to Zhongdao at once.”

Once the two reached Zhongdao, Bao Jiusun, his face full of pride, presented a steel ingot for Huang Shi to see. The Zhongdao steelmaking furnace had expended enormous effort and finally produced the first batch of crucible steel. After the slag‑removal process, the molten steel had been cast into several steel billets. Although these billets were still far from finished steel, at least they were finally steel.

As he spoke, Bao Jiusun handed over a crudely made steel saber. The blade had only been given an edge, with a wooden handle attached to the back. “This saber in my hand was forged from that steel ingot. I beg my lord to inspect it.”

Huang Shi took the steel saber and examined it carefully, while Bao Jiusun beside him chattered on about the difficulties of forging the steel saber: “My lord clearly understands — at first I had several blacksmiths try to cut a blade from this steel ingot, but they ruined quite a few tools without managing to cut a steel strip from the ingot. Later I had them lift the whole ingot onto the fire to heat it…”

“Hold on.” Huang Shi, who had been listening with keen interest, abruptly cut off Bao Jiusun’s account and asked, his face slightly tense: “It was a charcoal fire, right?”

Bao Jiusun was taken aback. He quickly composed himself, cupped his hands, and said: “My lord clearly understands. Ever since my lord instructed three years ago that weapons must be forged using charcoal fires, I have not dared to forget for a single day. This time my lord repeatedly gave instructions in advance — how could I dare not be meticulous?”

Steel is essentially an alloy of carbon and iron; the more thoroughly other impurities are removed, the better (of course there are many beneficial alloying metals, but Huang Shi did not know them). Huang Shi had always insisted that only charcoal be used to forge weapons, precisely because he feared that impurities from coal would seep into the weapons. Huang Shi had always known that Bao Jiusun was meticulous and diligent, but this bit of steel ingot had cost him far too much silver, so he could not help being “anxious and therefore flustered.” Seeing Bao Jiusun’s fearful and uneasy expression, Huang Shi felt a pang of apology: “You have always handled matters reliably. I spoke wrongly — I am sorry.”

“My lord’s words are too weighty — you overwhelm…”

“Enough. Continue about this saber.”

At the time, Bao Jiusun’s several blacksmiths had heated the steel ingot until it glowed red, and then finally managed to cut off a few steel strips. They then used the charcoal fire to forge these steel strips into a blade body, and finally ground the edge and added a wooden handle.

“Would my lord like to test this saber?” Bao Jiusun asked politely, but even as he asked, he gestured with his hand. Immediately someone swiftly brought over a four‑legged stand weighing over a hundred jin. After the stand was set in front of Huang Shi, Bao Jiusun personally placed a very thick wrought‑iron bar across it. His desire to show off was written all over his face.

Bao Jiusun’s face was full of pride and anticipation. Huang Shi smiled slightly, swung his right arm in a full circle, and the steel saber in his hand sliced through the air, descending upon the wrought‑iron bar with a sharp whistle.

A loud “clang” rang out, and at the same moment Huang Shi’s arm went numb from the shock. He looked closely: the blade had sunk deep into the wrought‑iron bar. The bar, as thick as a man’s arm, had been cut nearly one‑fifth of the way through by the steel saber.

Not only was Huang Shi inwardly startled, but Bao Jiusun also immediately cried out when he saw it: “My lord truly possesses heaven‑sent strength!”

Huang Shi wanted to pull the saber out and inspect the edge, but when he tugged, the blade did not budge. Casually he wiggled it left and right, trying to work it free from the wrought‑iron bar.

“My lord, be careful!” Bao Jiusun shouted at the sight. Seeing Huang Shi turn his head in surprise, he hastily apologized: “I have been discourteous — I beg my lord’s forgiveness.”

Huang Shi’s expression was somewhat displeased, and his tone carried a trace of annoyance: “Brother Bao, I have long said there is no need for such excessive courtesy. The others have all changed, but you are always still like this.”

Bao Jiusun bowed again: “I beg my lord’s forgiveness.”

“No offense, no offense.” Huang Shi released the saber hilt and, staring at the blade, asked: “What did you want to tell me? Just speak freely.”

“My lord clearly understands — this blade edge is hard, hard indeed, but it is also extremely brittle.” As Bao Jiusun spoke, he waved his hand again. Several artisan‑soldiers came forward and lifted the wrought‑iron bar together with the steel saber off the stand, then rocked it back and forth, carefully working it free from the wrought‑iron bar.

Taking the steel saber from the soldiers, Bao Jiusun swiftly glanced at its edge, then respectfully presented it to Huang Shi with both hands: “My lord, please see — the blade edge is still completely intact.”

Huang Shi turned the blade over and examined it several times, nodded, and handed it back to Bao Jiusun. He recalled that the higher the carbon content in steel, the harder it was, and the lower the carbon content, the tougher the steel would be. It seemed that adding certain things could also make steel rust‑proof, or make it extremely, extremely hard or tough — but Huang Shi could not remember a single one of these things, let alone how to obtain them.

Bao Jiusun took the saber back with loving care, and as his gaze rested on the steel edge, he clicked his tongue in admiration: “The ancients spoke of many ‘iron‑slicing’ treasure blades, but surely none were as easy to forge as this one, were they?”

In ancient times, if a blade was forged and hammered over a fire for long enough, there was always a chance to drive out a great deal of impurities and also a chance to carburize it into high‑carbon steel — but the time and labor required went without saying. Moreover, China’s specific circumstance was that coal was adopted too early for smelting iron and steel. Although coal has a high calorific value, it also caused iron and steel to be contaminated with large amounts of harmful impurities. As a result, Chinese iron after the Song dynasty often contained a great many impurities, and the quality of weapons forged from such iron was not even as good as those of the Tang dynasty.

The story Huang Shi had spun for Bao Jiusun was this: back when he was in Kaiyuan, he had a neighbor who was an iron‑ore merchant and occasionally used a small crucible to smelt steel. So what Huang Shi was doing now was simply scaling up the small crucible he had once seen into a large crucible, and the small furnace into a large water‑powered blast furnace. As for why his former neighbor could melt iron with a small furnace while he could not — well, that was naturally someone else’s ancestral secret art.

This explanation did not arouse any suspicion in Bao Jiusun. In this era, there were truly far too many ancestral secret arts. Besides, Huang Shi was clearly no expert in metallurgy — otherwise he would not have wasted so much silver at the beginning. What grieved Bao Jiusun and the Changsheng Island Ordnance Bureau most was that Huang Shi said his neighbor had died in Nurhaci’s ethnic slaughter. Every time Bao Jiusun recalled this matter, he would first beat his chest and stamp his feet in sorrow, sighing that he had no chance to secretly learn more secrets. But immediately afterward, Bao Jiusun would unfailingly follow up with relief: in his view, the fact that Huang Shi’s neighbor had not been kept alive by Nurhaci as a blacksmith — truly Heaven blessed our Great Ming.

Huang Shi then inquired further about the efficiency and cost of this crucible steelmaking. He found that the cost was still acceptable, but the efficiency was still quite unsatisfactory.

“I remember hearing their family say — after the iron melts into liquid, the longer it is heated, the tougher the resulting steel will be; the shorter it is heated, the harder the resulting steel will be.” When the molten steel was in the steelmaking furnace, there were still flames above it. Huang Shi figured that the carbon inside was probably burning, so heating it longer would presumably yield low‑carbon steel.

“I venture to ask my lord — exactly how long should it be heated?”

“That I do not know. You will have to test it yourselves.” Huang Shi waved his hand magnanimously, delegating the authority to Bao Jiusun: “In the future, when steel ingots are produced, classify them into ten grades according to hardness and softness. I entrust this matter entirely to you.”

“Your subordinate obeys.”

Although steel output was still not large, Huang Shi felt it should already be very useful. First of all, cannons. Huang Shi had long been hoping to use cannons cast from wrought iron, because casting cannons from copper was simply too expensive. But previously they only had relatively brittle high‑carbon steel boring tools and drills, which could only be used to make copper cannons. As long as they were still using the old‑style tools, Huang Shi felt they could only bore firelocks; he had no idea how to machine cannons cast from wrought iron.

“Once the iron cannons are successfully trial‑produced…” Huang Shi thought fiercely: “I absolutely must melt down all those current copper cannons. Those few copper cannons would be enough to add at least one more ship to the Heidao fleet.”

Another benefit Huang Shi could think of was making firelocks. Ever since arriving at Changsheng Island, Huang Shi had long felt that the Ming dynasty’s bird guns had taken a very strange and crooked path. The Ming bird gun seemed to be modeled on the Japanese matchlock. The Japanese matchlock’s slender length was understandable, because people in that poor place could not afford good armor, and the Japanese matchlock’s power was sufficient. Besides, Japan was also very poor, so they were reluctant to use too much iron on a matchlock.

But China was clearly completely different. The bird guns were made even thinner than Japanese matchlocks. Not only did this make them very prone to bursting, but their power was also very small, and the difficulty of manufacture, needless to say, became very, very great. Huang Shi did not find it strange that the Great Ming copied the bird gun, but that the more they made them, the thinner they became — that was truly too bizarre. It was plainly a thankless task.

It was not until Huang Shi went to Nanjing to buy copper coins that he vaguely perceived the driving force behind this developmental path. Huang Shi measured the bellies of the Great Ming Ministry of Works officials with his own petty mind: making bird guns this thin was most likely to skimp on materials and labor. After all, they had a huge number of slave‑like artisans whose labor time hardly counted as a cost, and the less iron used per gun, the better — anyway, the ones who would be blown up were the slave‑like military households.

The diameter of the Great Ming bird gun was roughly between twelve and thirteen millimeters, and it looked very refined. In contrast, the firelock that Huang Shi and Deng Ken designed was of the big, clumsy, and crude type. Once Huang Shi realized that a stand was unavoidable, he completely let go of appearances — whatever gave the greatest power, that was the way to go. The firelocks currently used on Changsheng Island were already a full twenty‑two or twenty‑three millimeters thick in diameter.

Although the greatly widened bore brought considerable convenience in manufacture, previously the firelock barrels were honed using wrought‑iron rods and old‑style steel tools. It took a whole day to hone one barrel, and some spots were still not smooth enough. To prevent bursting, they had no choice but to thicken the barrel walls further. Huang Shi hoped that with high‑quality high‑carbon steel, they could build drilling rigs for boring barrels. Exquisite tools could greatly raise the level of workmanship, which would in turn greatly reduce the requirements for bore diameter and wall thickness. Of course, Huang Shi had no intention of reducing the bore diameter and wall thickness of Changsheng Island firelocks; he was more inclined to add more gunpowder to the firelocks — after the battle of Fuzhou, Huang Shi had been constantly pondering how to further increase the firelock’s power so as to render most of the Later Jin army’s shields (those not made entirely of metal) completely useless.

The final benefit brought by steelmaking was that Huang Shi felt that with high‑carbon steel they could produce another type of large machine tool — a rolling mill. This heavy machinery could roll still‑hot steel ingots into thick steel plates, thin steel plates, and other steel products… even seamless steel tubes. Exactly what level a water‑powered rolling mill could achieve, Huang Shi did not know, but he remembered that the principle of this machine was similar to a rolling pin: use high‑carbon steel to make a steel core, and then roll the red‑hot steel ingot — that was all. Anyway… Bao Jiusun would test the specific feasibility.

What currently left Huang Shi somewhat at a loss was that he did not know what use steelmaking and heavy machine tools would ultimately serve. What Huang Shi could think of at the moment were high‑carbon steel spearheads, or using a forging machine to forge the steel plates rolled by the rolling mill into helmets and armor.

"After all this painstaking effort developing machinery and steelmaking, pouring in so much silver and manpower, can they really only be used to make cold weapons and early firearms? Even if I could churn out these primitive weapons on an assembly line, who would I give a huge batch of them to in the end?" Huang Shi felt very perplexed by this question as well.

……

At the same time, the Right Garrison Post of Gaizhou Guard

"Second Brother, the rumors outside are saying Fuzhou has won another great victory for the Ming army, with over ten thousand heads taken!!!!"