Madam, don't do this!

Chapter 567 Hua Lianyue is Pregnant (4,000 words)
Luo Tianxuan suddenly disappeared.

Perhaps all members of the Luo family are like this; she didn't tell Song Yan, but Song Yan understood where Luo Tianxuan had gone.

Aventurine.

Although he was worried, it wasn't too intense. After all, Luo Tianxuan's strength was undeniable, and there weren't many people in the world who could harm her.

August th, Mid-Autumn Festival.

The Mid-Autumn Festival, as the name suggests, is a time when the cold of winter is welcomed. In this day and age, the Mid-Autumn Festival is simply the Autumn Equinox. Nobles like to brew wine on this day, and occasionally some wealthy young men, women, and scholars will gather together to hold a banquet, compose poems, and exchange verses. But for it to become a festival celebrated by the whole nation, it may be several more decades away.

As evening approached, a light rain began to fall in Pingyang.

A gray veil of rain enveloped the entire ancient city. It had snowed a few days ago, and now the sudden rain made it even colder. Song Yan stood on the city wall, with Gu Banxia beside him holding an oil-paper umbrella. Raindrops fell on the umbrella, creating a hazy mist.

The Classic of Plain Girls is an excellent cultivation method. Although she has only been practicing it for a short time, Gu Banxia has been working diligently and her internal energy has improved rapidly. Before, Gu Banxia only knew some basic martial arts, but now she can be considered a second or third-grade martial artist.
On the other side of Song Yan was Hua Lian Yue.

Luo Tianxuan has temporarily left, and Luo Yuheng is pregnant and taking care of her pregnancy. Nowadays, the task of protecting Song Yan every day is almost entirely handled by Hua Lianyue. The raindrops fall, but before they can wet Hua Lianyue's hair, they are dispersed by an invisible and intangible force. From a distance, it seems that there is an invisible barrier on Hua Lianyue's body, protecting her from the rain.

Whenever Song Yan saw such a scene, she felt a little envious.

It's unclear how long it will take for him to reach such a sheltered place from the rain.

Looking out of the city, one could see many laborers and soldiers still busy in the rain, with carts of cobblestones and river sand piled up below the city walls... His Highness the Prince of Yan said that the weather this year is even colder than last year, and those barbarians from the Xiongnu and Jurchens are very likely to raid southwards again, so the defensive fortifications must be completed in advance, and the city walls in various places must be repaired.

This was a matter of life and death concerning all the people of Anzhou and Pingyang. Therefore, when Song Yan conscripted laborers, almost no one refused. Moreover, His Highness Prince Yan provided meals, two full meals a day, and even three coins a day.

Although three large coins weren't much, they still brought the people great joy. After all, throughout history, His Highness Prince Yan was absolutely unique in conscripting laborers, providing them with food and wages. Before His Highness Prince Yan, they not only received no wages for their corvée labor, but they also had to bring their own rations.

Thinking about it this way, they felt that His Highness Prince Yan was truly a good person. They worked even harder, even though they didn't understand why they needed these pebbles when repairing the city wall required river sand. However, the prince had his reasons for making such an arrangement, and they did their best to complete the task.

Song Yan looked back at a place in the city. In the misty rain, plumes of black smoke were rising into the sky, and several blast furnaces were burning wildly. But this time, what they were burning was not iron ore, but limestone. To be precise, it was limestone, porcelain clay, ochre, and gypsum... Ochre is actually hematite, which was mostly used as a pigment for painting in this era, while gypsum is natural raw gypsum.

What Song Yan wanted to make was cement.

In ancient times, the raw materials were not scarce. The main difficulties were twofold: firstly, the kiln temperature was insufficient. To produce high-quality cement, a temperature of over 1,450 degrees Celsius was required, while the best porcelain kilns of that era could only reach a temperature of around 1,300 degrees Celsius.

Another challenge is how to crush the raw materials.

However, Song Yan had already overcome both of these problems. He had the experience of using the blast furnace ironmaking method before, so the temperature problem was relatively easy to solve. The difficult part was crushing the raw materials... After all, Song Yan really couldn't make a crusher. Helplessly, he could only use a simpler method, which involved requisitioning almost all the oxen in the entire fiefdom and then slowly crushing them with a stone roller.

It is time-consuming and labor-intensive, and the efficiency is not very high.

He also drew up some blueprints for waterwheels and gave them to craftsmen to manufacture, preparing to build several water-powered mills... However, these things need to be tested, and if they are eventually proven to be usable, the cement production progress can be accelerated considerably.

Of course, Song Yan did not plan to build the city walls with cement immediately. After all, it was too cold now, and the strength of cement would be severely affected at low temperatures. He was just preparing materials in advance so that when spring came next year, when there was no shortage of materials, he could reinforce all the city walls in the fiefdom in the shortest possible time.

Song Yan then went to the military camp.

Mei Wu relaxed the requirements for recruiting soldiers a bit, and the soldiers' treatment was really good, so the number of people signing up increased significantly. There was a large, dark mass of adult men in front of the barracks, all waiting to sign up and undergo physical examinations.

We've arrived at the firearms workshop again.

The manufacturing process of the Thunderclap Bomb is the simplest, and production has been proceeding steadily. Currently, there are 12,000 Thunderclap Bombs. If production continues at this rate, there may be 100,000 by early summer next year. Song Yan thought about it and realized that 100,000 Thunderclap Bombs were still not enough. He would probably feel more at ease if there were 300,000 or 500,000.

The improved versions of the Tiger Crouching Cannon and the Red Barbarian Cannon have been produced as prototypes, but the data is not very good. The Tiger Crouching Cannon has a range of only thirty paces, and if the shell is fired, the shrapnel can blow up the cannon itself if you are not careful. As for the Red Barbarian Cannon, its original range of two kilometers is now only about three hundred paces, which is far from meeting Song Yan's requirements.

Moreover, it is extremely prone to barrel explosion.

This was understandable, as it was truly the first time these craftsmen had ever encountered such a thing. Although they had blueprints, they didn't understand the principles behind many aspects, and coupled with their lack of experience, Song Yan was quite satisfied that they could produce a sample. Therefore, Song Yan did not reprimand them. Instead, he summoned all the craftsmen who had manufactured the cannons, rewarded each of them with ten taels of silver, and promised that after the cannons were successfully manufactured, the craftsmen who made the contribution would be granted official positions.

You must know that at this time, the status of craftsmen was very low. Although they were not of low social status, they were not much better off. Craftsmen were not qualified to become officials at all. Now that the prince had actually promised to grant them official positions, the entire workshop was in an uproar.

The production of muskets was somewhat difficult.

Song Yan provided many blueprints, including those for the three-barreled gun, the musket, the Thunder musket, the Charleville M1777, the Minié gun, and so on.

These blueprints almost all represent a technological innovation. For example, the three-barreled gun was an innovation in usage; after the bullets were used up, it could be swung around and used as a blunt weapon, giving it an additional function compared to ordinary matchlock guns. The musket was basically the representative of East Asian matchlock guns. The musket was probably the earliest repeating firearm. The Charleville was the iconic weapon of the Napoleonic Wars. The Minié gun was the core of the 19th-century infantry weapons revolution.

Matchlock guns, flintlock guns, and rifled guns—they had almost everything.

Song Yan probably has a "cast a wide net and catch as many fish as possible" mentality; he believes that he won't lose money no matter which type of weapon he creates.

However, Song Yan was somewhat disappointed with the current results. Apart from making a prototype of the three-barreled gun, the progress of the other firearms was almost negligible. Song Yan tried them out himself, and the weight of about ten pounds was indeed worthy of the name of a blunt weapon. As for the effective range, it was only a pitiful twenty paces. As for the accuracy... well, as long as the bullets can be fired, that's fine. Don't expect too much from other aspects.

Seeing his colleagues who were producing cannons receive rewards while he received nothing, the craftsmen's eyes were blazing with envy and jealousy as they looked at their colleagues. Song Yan knew that the entire firearms workshop was about to be engulfed in flames.

In conclusion, Song Yan was still able to accept the overall progress of the firearms workshop. Short-term failures did not mean anything, and Song Yan believed that by next year, the firearms workshop would definitely be able to deliver a good result.

Should we form a Divine Machine Battalion?
Song Yan thought to himself.

Once firearms and artillery are fully deployed in the army, it will likely be a true case of overwhelming force, and the Xiongnu and Western Rong will no longer be considered a threat.

Let alone six Hu, even if there were sixty Hu, what would I, the king, fear?

As night fell, Song Yan returned to the Prince of Yan's residence. He did not rush to rest, but went to his study first. Holding a brush in his hand, he quickly put pen to paper after a brief moment of thought.

He plans to write a book, a revised version of ideological and political thought. He intends to open a school, and this book will serve as the school's textbook, incorporating some modern societal insights, while also emphasizing loyalty to Song Yan. He also plans to establish a political party or society, whose members, apart from his confidants, will all be elites who graduated from the school.

Song Yan ultimately did not immediately promote the "equalization of land tax and poll tax" policy, which required both gentry and commoners to pay taxes.

The current literacy rate in Ningguo is not high, and there are too few people who can become officials. If Song Yan forcibly promotes these things, it is very likely to cause the officials in the fiefdom to resign en masse. He can use thunderous means to force them to submit, but that will not be very useful. It will be more troublesome to deal with those who outwardly comply but inwardly resist. Therefore, he must cultivate a group of scholars who are loyal to him and absolutely support his various policies.

Of course, this will inevitably take a long time, and Song Yan is not in a hurry.

Hua Lianyue was grinding ink beside her, a faint smile on her lips... There was a time when Hua Lianyue felt that her life was in the martial world, and that fighting and killing were the only things she should do. But now she inexplicably felt that such a quiet and peaceful life was not bad at all.

In the candlelight, Song Yan's profile seemed to be covered with a layer of orange-yellow glow.

Light and shadow intertwine, flickering and changing.

Just watching, watching, smiling gently.

After an unknown amount of time, Hua Lianyue's brows suddenly furrowed slightly, and then she felt a sudden discomfort in her abdomen for no apparent reason.

"vomit……"

A slight gagging sound came from his throat.

Song Yan put down the brush in his hand, looked up at Hua Lianyue, and then stretched out his right hand and placed it on Hua Lianyue's wrist.

After about a minute, Song Yan raised his head, met Hua Lian Yue's slightly expectant gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips, and slowly said:
"Lianyue...you'll be a mother soon too."

Hua Lianyue is also pregnant.

Everything seemed to fall into place so naturally.

There were no spectacular phenomena, no thrilling twists and turns, and no misunderstandings. In short, Hua Lianyue became pregnant.

The moment Hua Lianyue heard Song Yan's voice, a gentle smile bloomed on her face.

……

boom!
boom!
boom!
Haixi Grassland.

The top of the moon.

The world was still a silvery white expanse.

The dazzling silver light was like a huge silver silk ribbon, spreading out between heaven and earth, connecting the sky and the land. The thick snow buried everything, the daytime sunlight faded, and the night became even colder. The trees were also covered by snowflakes, and their branches turned silvery white.

This snowfall came far too fiercely. Many leaves, barely turning yellow and not yet having fallen from the treetops, were already enveloped by the swirling snow. Even the lush weeds on the ground seemed to retain their verdant greenness from when the snow fell. However, the thick snowflakes were ultimately too heavy for the grass and leaves to bear, and they drooped listlessly. The dull thud of horses' hooves sounded, the earth trembled, and some of the accumulated snow was shaken off the branches and leaves.

It felt like another snowy night.

"drive!"

"drive!"

"drive!"

The loud shouts carried far across the vast Haixi Grassland. Looking out, a large patch of dark clouds was visible amidst the silvery white snowfield. As the wind swept by, the dark clouds raged across the ground.

Finally, the sound of horses' hooves stopped for a while, revealing a dense, large group of people, perhaps numbering in the thousands.

These people were all wrapped in coats made of animal hides, but unfortunately the Jurchens' sewing skills were really too poor. Although the fine animal hides could insulate against the cold wind, they did not provide much warmth. Each of the barbarian warriors had a pale face, especially their lips, which were dark blue and chapped.

Beneath her eyelashes, which were streaked with snowflakes, her eyes revealed a deep weariness.

Clearly, they haven't had a proper rest in a long time.

Worse still, some people still had wounds from bone arrows and scimitars. The wounds were frozen and no longer bleeding, but this was obviously not a good thing. If they did not receive treatment, they could lose their lives at any time.

"Everyone dismount and rest for a quarter of an hour." The leader was a barbarian man in his fifties.

He was tall, stout, and bloated, with dark skin covered in hair even thicker than that of the Han Chinese from the Central Plains. His wide eyes were filled with intense anger, resentment, and even fear.

His name was Batu, and he was the Jilie Khan of the Jurchen Blackwater Tribe.

He was also Nakhtoya's father.

Song Yan's future father-in-law.

Landing on the ground, Batu grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing to moisten his chapped lips and throat. His brows furrowed tightly as he turned to look behind him, his eyes burning with hatred as fierce as a raging fire.

That damned Wanyan Guangzhi.

Son of a bitch.

He had seventy-two women, all of whom were taken by that bastard Wanyan Guangzhi!
(End of this chapter)