Chapter 247: Felt Rugs

Liu Chengzong rejected Lhazang's proposal, but the Beiyan Taiji still remained in Ju'er Bay.

Because heavy snow had sealed the mountain road south, Beiyan of the Huoluochi tribe could only stay in Ju'er Bay for the time being.

For him, acceptance or rejection of the proposal was within expectations — after all, Liu Chengzong's army looked quite capable in a fight, and there really wasn't much need to subordinate to the junior Lhazang.

Once back on Lhazang's side, they'd prepare for war if they had to; he was just the messenger.

In the end, Beiyan Taiji wasn't afraid of Liu Chengzong launching a surprise attack either — the terrain in the Little Bend was much higher, and the most likely thing to happen later was nothing more than some skirmishing over the Western Barbarian tribes in the border zones.

Besides, if it really came down to it, he'd just take his tribe and leave the Little Bend, go nomadize somewhere else, and stop playing with the little brother — simple as that.

During the reinforcement of the central army command tent, Beiyan had also offered Liu Chengzong a bit of advice, so the treatment Liu Chengzong gave Beiyan Taiji wasn't too bad.

They were assigned two dugout shelters; the party of five, master and servants, had their fill of roasted flour, coal to burn at night, and got by passably.

Beiyan Taiji's attitude was also very proper — he wouldn't make a request if he could avoid it, took his retinue hunting when it was time to hunt, ran around the river valley for fun when it was time for that, and returned to the dugout at dark, giving Lion Liu no trouble.

Occasionally being pumped for information by Chen Shifo, and occasionally pumping back to probe military intelligence — none of it did any real harm.

But what puzzled Beiyan was that in the days that followed, among the five great encampments, the one with the fewest men had its entire camp studying the Sixteen Articles, seemingly caught up in a strange fervor.

In the old Tibetan lands, plenty of feudal lords used this set of laws, but Beiyan Taiji had never seen anyone find fervent emotion in this legal code.

What was there to be so fervent about in this thing?

Puzzled for a long time, Beiyan Taiji only learned from Chen Shifo that this smallest encampment was Liu Chengzong's Kheshig Guard.

Chen Shifo was just talking off the top of his head.

In the Lion Army, Chen Shifo was an off-the-books man, and even now had no idea how the Lion Army's operational model worked.

His main job these days was to use his identity as a lama-school dropout to pull in the brightest young people from the seven tribes of the Sun-Moon Mountain barbarians and teach them Chinese in his dugout shelter.

Liu Chengzong had promised him that next year he'd open an academy for him in Ju'er Bay or Haibei, specifically for teaching Chinese.

The students' prospects were far greater than entering a monastery as a little monk — once they learned Chinese, they'd be the Lion Army's advance guides into Qinghai; if they still had the energy to learn Chinese writing, they'd become local officials in the future.

Chen Shifo figured this was a job worth doing — from what Liu Chengzong meant, circuit officials would be established in Qinghai in the future, and then with his disciples and former subordinates spread all across Qinghai, wouldn't the old Chen family of Xining become formidable?

He'd now recruited seventeen students; conditions were a bit rough — Chen Shifo's dugout was already sleeping sideways, yet it could still only cram in five people.

With absolutely no space to spare, Liu Chengzong had even added two felt rugs to his own central army command tent; four little kids studied with Chen Shifo during the day and slept in the command tent at night.

Besides teaching the Western Barbarian children, Chen Shifo's other task was to occasionally chat with Beiyan Taiji, who'd come from Eight Corner City.

Because in the entire camp, he was the only one who didn't understand the Lion Army.

So being sent to pump Beiyan Taiji for intelligence gave Chen Shifo no psychological burden at all — he was utterly sincere, answering every question Beiyan had, except basically everything he said was the wrong answer.

But on this Kheshig Guard business, he'd more or less guessed right.

The central army camp's fervor came from the battle formations recorded in the Sixteen Articles; these officer candidates spent all day outside studying how to swiftly crush the army of the Tsangpa Khan.

Liu Chengzong, for the most part, also mixed in with the officers of the central army camp.

He needed to know every man in the central army camp; the future officers would all have service records in the central army camp — studying tactics and familiarizing themselves with the commander was precisely his original purpose in establishing it.

Not long after winter set in, Shi Chengwo came running over, beaming with delight, to report that the two proposed models for the new-style bird guns had been completed.

The ordnance bureau by the riverbank bustled with activity; it covered a large area but wasn't densely built, still just a cluster of simple workshops for now.

When Liu Chengzong arrived at the ordnance bureau, he saw infantrymen carrying five bird guns out — during this period of testing the new bird guns, production of the old-style light bird guns that fired three-mace lead balls hadn't stopped either.

According to Shi Chengwo's report, in this month and a half, counting the construction of the workshop sheds, they'd made two hundred and thirty light bird guns.

The cost per bird gun averaged two mace of silver and seven dou of yellow flour.

The cost was extremely low, but this low cost didn't make Liu Chengzong particularly happy — instead it made him recognize his own problem.

They'd come from a famine-stricken region, after all; the Lion Army's craftsmen had two standard grain rations — apprentices got twelve jin of roasted flour and three dou of millet per month, while master craftsmen got twenty-four jin of roasted flour and six dou of millet per month.

Even the apprentices had their fill of rations, and were given some grain to trade for supplementary foods.

A master craftsman could even use this income to support three extra mouths and scrape by.

In the fifth year of the great drought in northern Shaanxi, to earn enough grain to support three extra people through work, anywhere other than Liu Chengzong's place, you'd need to earn seven to eight taels of silver in northern Shaanxi to trade for that much grain.

That was equivalent to half a year's income for a metalworking craftsman in a normal harvest year.

But once they came to Xining, it was a different story — just one tael and five mace of silver could buy their labor and food.

The three dou or six dou of grain that had been enough to trade with local commoners for all needed daily goods — now that grain wasn't enough anymore.

How could there still be any sense of well-being in that?

Having fought his way out of northern Shaanxi, Liu Chengzong understood perfectly well that under the extreme conditions of commercial collapse, the value of goods rose with their scarcity, and money couldn't bring much happiness.

Grain, on the other hand, could bring people immense happiness.

But in Xining, without money, there was no happiness; and without performance incentives, there was no motivation.

Liu Chengzong asked Shi Chengwo, "How many craftsmen do we have now?"

"Over eight hundred craftsmen of various types, and the remaining twelve hundred or so are apprentices." Shi Chengwo finished, and seeing Liu Chengzong's astonished expression, explained, "Many come from Pingliang, and quite a few are highly skilled artisans we have no use for."

"Are there any who hold onto their skills and won't share their secrets?"

"Heh, Marshal, when you can't even get enough to eat, who cares about guarding secrets or not — yes, there are some." Shi Chengwo shook his head. "In Shanxi, Yan'an, Pingliang — they all had them. Either bring out your skills and teach them, or get lost."

Having said that, Shi Chengwo added, "But teaching apprentices isn't easy either. The old master craftsmen in camp are all willing to teach, but the disciples don't necessarily learn well. The camp allows master craftsmen to set requirements for taking apprentices."

"That's only right."

As the two spoke, they'd already reached the edge of the riverbank, where Shi Chengwo had set up a thatched shed. On the table lay three bird guns, and off to the other side, far away, stood square wooden targets and a suit of armor.

The three guns were visibly of two specifications — one had the muzzle of the old light bird gun that fired three-mace balls, its bore too narrow to fit even a finger in, while the other two had much larger bores; Liu Chengzong estimated they were at least seven fen wide.

Overall, the three guns looked quite different. Speaking just of the barrels, the light bird gun was under three chi, while of the other two, one was four chi five cun and the other five chi.

But the stocks of the latter two were both rather odd — they'd abandoned the grip of the original light bird gun, and though you might call it a gunstock, it looked like it couldn't be braced against the shoulder either. Very strange things.

Shi Chengwo was a craftsman who'd started out casting Red Barbarian cannons, and he introduced them to Liu Chengzong as if introducing artillery pieces: "These two new-style heavy guns — the short one uses one-tael-five-mace balls, the long one uses two-tael balls, and both have a caliber ratio of seventy to one."

Liu Chengzong pointed at the gunstock and asked, "What's this for? It doesn't look like it can brace against the shoulder."

"Brace against the shoulder?"

Shi Chengwo froze for a moment, then said with delighted surprise, "That's right, Marshal — it can brace against the shoulder!"

Only then did he explain: "The new-model barrel is too long and too heavy. Even the lighter of the two weighs seventeen and a half jin. It's front-heavy and rear-light — the original grip made firing unstable, so they added a weighted wooden block as a counterbalance."

Having spoken, Shi Chengwo was still immersed in the delight brought by Liu Chengzong's offhand remark, muttering to himself: "Brace it against the shoulder — yes, it can be braced against the shoulder."

"I'll draw you a sample later."

Liu Chengzong said this with a smile, then continued pointing at the gun and asked: "Go on — how much powder does it load, how powerful is it, and what's its range?"

"Standard load is one liang. At eighty paces it pierces two layers of reinforced armor. Beyond a hundred and fifty paces it can still kill a man, but you can't aim accurately."

Liu Chengzong listened, smiling. He was a crack shot with a bow and knew exactly what aiming at an enemy beyond fifty paces felt like... when the arrowhead is bigger than the target, it all comes down to feel.

It wasn't mysticism — it was intuition born of long practice. If the intuition said it would hit, then it would hit.

He picked up a one-liang-five-qian lead ball and weighed it in his hand. Though it wasn't very large — just a round ball a little over two centimeters in diameter — it was heavier than a chicken egg. Even if he just threw this ball, it could raise a lump on a man's skull.

Shi Chengwo nodded to him and said: "So I think this thing doesn't need a heavy powder charge. Loading two liang of gunpowder only delays its drop by ten paces."

As he spoke, Shi Chengwo took out a folded strip of paper covered with a dense grid of equal-width squares, like the gridded scale used in mapmaking. Distances were marked on it, along with a descending trajectory.

This greatly surprised Liu Chengzong. He asked: "How did you measure the trajectory?"

"Trajectory?"

Shi Chengwo repeated the word, then very earnestly explained with gestures: "Measure the distance. Hang two ropes two hundred paces long. Every pace, hang a square sheet of paper with a scale printed on it. When the ropes are pulled taut, all the sheets are at the same height. Fire one shot through two hundred sheets, then connect them in sequence and you'll know."

Liu Chengzong closed his eyes and pondered for a moment, then looked up and raised a thumb to Shi Chengwo, praising him: "Clever! This must be recorded. Master Shi, you could compile a book — casting cannons and making guns. Impressive!"

Receiving Liu Chengzong's praise, Shi Chengwo seemed a little embarrassed. He smiled and said: "Commander, this was not this humble one's method. It was He Xin's idea, from watching the papermakers drying sheets."

"Then we'll call it the He Method of Trajectory Measurement."

Liu Chengzong slapped his hand on the table: "Sanlang, have Chengyun bring thirty liang of silver over. This afternoon, assemble the craftsmen and award the silver publicly."

Shi Chengwo looked astonished, then said: "Commander, Officer He holds an official rank. This is merely part of his duty — is there really a need to mobilize so many people?"

Liu Chengzong, however, thought it over very seriously for a moment before speaking: "Master Shi, you were once a master cannon-founder and now you are a battalion commander. I know that for each of us, an official post is not only authority but also honor, and receiving a post is the greatest form of recognition."

"But this is invention and creation. We must encourage invention and creation. I want every craftsman to know — is there a single thing we use that was not created by craftsmen? Those who contribute and achieve merit must receive rewards."

Liu Chengzong said: "Invention and creation is merit. Under the law of the Snowy Mountains, a craftsman's life is worth only a straw rope. Here with me, craftsmen not only eat their fill and dress warmly, they can also receive rewards and official posts."

"One day I will make the whole world know: in this world there are people who do not respect craftsmen, do not respect farmers, do not respect soldiers. They are my, Liu the Lion's, three pillars — and I respect them!"

Though he said this, Liu the Lion was still a cripple, and while he had plenty of men who knew how to farm, they were all soldiers now — he had no farmers.

Sanlang left to carry out the order and find Chengyun. Liu Chengzong picked up the seventeen-and-a-half-jin bird gun. The butt of this gun still needed modification, but it already reached as high as his chin. Once he settled on the stock specifications, the heavy gun might end up as tall as he was.

Shi Chengwo had proven that although the other gun had a larger caliber and longer barrel, the increase in power was limited. Compared to the added difficulty and time in manufacturing, it was not very meaningful.

For firing stability, they decided to add a wooden fork as a support, which would make aiming easier.

So the barrel specification they finally settled on was this one-liang-five-qian ball weight, which took half again as long to manufacture as the light bird gun.

And regrettably, soldiers using this heavy bird gun could not wear armor.

Using pre-loaded wooden cartridges, a light bird gunner could easily carry ammunition for fifty shots, but a single round for this bird gun weighed three liang — carrying fifteen rounds approached three jin.

Adding the heavy gun itself, that was already over twenty jin.

It was an awkward weight.

Any lighter, and the soldier could wear iron-plated cotton armor.

Any heavier — Liu Chengzong's specification for the jingal was under forty jin, normally carried on a cart with the unit and operated by two men as supplementary firepower for a squad, not too great a burden for the soldiers.

But its tremendous power made him unable to give it up. Therefore Liu Chengzong decided to finalize this heavy gun as the standard, to be used as a single-soldier heavy musket in the future.

At the same time, he also put forward his requirements for a light musket to Shi Chengwo: "This is too heavy — we can't equip the whole army with it. So we also need to make a light gun using six-qian ammunition, under twelve jin, three chi five to four chi long — more powerful than the bird gun, lighter and handier than the heavy gun."

Compared to the smooth finalization of the heavy gun, the jingal had encountered a small problem in manufacturing, such that it would be delayed another two months.

The craftsmen had never made such a long barrel. When boring the barrel hole, the clamp was not secured tightly, so the bore ended up slightly crooked.

They were not drilling a gun barrel from scratch — the barrel hole was already present when the barrel was forge-welded together; it only needed to be bored smooth and straight. This directly determined the gun's accuracy, so it was the most technically demanding step.

Drilling it crooked would make the barrel walls uneven in thickness. Inaccurate shooting was the lesser concern — with a heavy powder charge, the barrel could easily burst.

Liu Chengzong said nothing about this. It was not something that could be forced. He could only encourage the craftsmen to keep working hard, so that he might see the jingal sooner.

But just as he was toying with the heavy gun, waiting for Chengyun to bring the silver, Shi Chengwo presented him with a woolen rug roughly two chi square.

The rug felt velvety and smooth to the touch. At its center was a blue qilin medallion, the spaces filled with silver, and a border of glittering gold.

"This is a seat-cushion the craftsmen wove for the Commander — cotton warp threads, interwoven with camel hair and sheep's wool, inlaid with silver thread inside and gold thread on the outer border."

After introducing it, Shi Chengwo smiled and said: "This was the craft the Shaanxi Weaving Bureau once used for Beijing and princely mansions. The weavers and gold-and-silversmiths were all recruited during the chaos in Pingliang. They wanted the Commander to see their skill."

Liu Chengzong held the seat-cushion up and looked it over again and again. In his eyes, this glittering golden rug was not a work of craftsmanship — it was a luxury good.

Smiling, he set the seat-cushion aside and said to Shi Chengwo: "We could establish a weaving bureau of our own. With military force as our backing and craftsmanship as our output, we can sweep up the wealth from both ends of the world in one net!"