Bright Sword: I built Italian cannons for Li Yunlong

That day, Zhou Zhen was still pondering the problem when he heard soft footsteps outside the door.

The footsteps were very light, as if afraid of startling someone.

Zhao Dajiang walked in carrying a bowl of steaming wild vegetable porridge. When he saw Zhou Zhen hunched over the table, his face was full of heartache.

"Factory manager, you should take a break." Zhao Dajiang placed the porridge on the corner of the table. "You've only slept six hours in the last two days. Your body can't take it."

Zhou Zhen raised his head, his face showing obvious signs of fatigue.

"Just a moment, once I've finished verifying this data, everything will be fine."

That day, he reorganized the experiment. Since there was no thermometer to detect high temperatures, they could only rely on Master Zhang Tieniu's experience to judge the temperature of the reactor.

Because he was worried that Master Zhang Tieniu had made a mistake in judging the temperature based on his experience, he specifically asked the workers to increase the amount of charcoal, but the experiment still did not yield good results.

"You said the same thing yesterday." Zhao Dajiang stood there without moving, his voice carrying the stubbornness typical of an elder.

"Your health is the foundation of everything. If you keep pushing yourself like this, even someone made of iron won't be able to take it."

Zhou Zhen forced a smile and rubbed his temples. "Old Zhao, I'm young, I can handle it."

"Leave the porridge here, go to sleep now."

Zhao Dajiang opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words ultimately turned into a heavy sigh.

He turned and left, but soon returned with an old cotton coat, which he gently draped over Zhou Zhen's shoulders.

Zhao Dajiang stood at the door for a while, watching the thin figure stubbornly standing tall under the dim light, before finally shaking his head and quietly leaving.

Meanwhile, at the Japanese military headquarters.

The conference room was filled with smoke. Major General Miyano and Lieutenant General Yoshio Shinotsuka sat facing each other across a long table.

The map spread out on the table was covered with dense markings and symbols.

One of the mountainous areas was heavily circled in red, which was the location of the Eighth Route Army's base area.

"Miyano-kun, you must admit that the presence of these local guerrillas has seriously tied down our forces on the battlefield."

It was Yoshio Shinotsuka who spoke, pointing his finger at the red circle on the map.

"Although the last attack on their arsenal had a temporary effect, according to the latest intelligence, their production capacity has gradually recovered."

Major General Miyano, sitting opposite him, had an impatient look on his face.

"So we're just going to sit idly by and watch them develop? Shinotsuka-kun, when are we going to finish our gas plan?"

Yoshio Shinotsuka did not answer immediately. He picked up a cigarette from the table, took a slow drag, and the smoke slowly escaped from his nostrils.

"Miyano-kun, don't rush. First of all, our protective equipment hasn't all arrived yet, and the troops below also need more time to train."

"When will we have to wait?" Miyano continued to press.

"Our red and yellow bullets are sufficient to carry out coverage strikes on several key areas."

This deterrence will make them understand that resistance is futile.

Yoshio Shinotsuka slowly took a drag of his cigarette, squinting as he exhaled the smoke.

"Miyano-kun, I understand your eagerness."

But you should know that producing these special ammunition is not easy.

Domestic production capacity is limited, making every round delivered to the Chinese battlefield extremely precious.

"Precisely because it is precious, it should be used in critical moments," Major General Miyano retorted somewhat indignantly.

"Miyano-kun, I agree with your point of view, but..." Yoshio Shinotsuka stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window was the Japanese army's training ground, where soldiers were lining up for training.

He had his back to Miyano, and his voice was calm.

"The climate, terrain, and temperature conditions in northwestern Shanxi are different from those in the local area, and even different from those in the three northeastern provinces."

The speed at which the poison gas spreads and its lethal effect will be affected here.

"Special ammunition is hard-won, and any waste of it is disloyal to His Majesty the Emperor."

I have requested from headquarters that experts specializing in toxic gases come over to conduct on-site investigations and tests of the climate conditions here.

"They will make adaptive adjustments to the charge and detonation method of the poison gas bombs based on test and experimental data."

"Only in this way can we ensure that special-purpose ammunition achieves its maximum effect."

Miyano also stood up, her tone urgent: "Then when will we have to wait?"

"A team of experts specializing in poison gas has been dispatched from Tokyo." Yoshio Shinotsuka turned around, his gaze gradually turning cold.

"We should be able to arrive in about two weeks."

"During this period, what we need to do is to strengthen reconnaissance and find out their troop deployment and the location of important targets."

Yoshio Shinotsuka's eyes narrowed slightly, his whole demeanor exuding ruthlessness and malice, a far cry from his previous refined and calm demeanor.

"Once the experts arrive and make the necessary adjustments, we will be able to wipe out this group of Eighth Route Army soldiers hiding in the mountain gullies in one fell swoop."

"Miyano-kun, war requires patience."

Major General Miyano gritted his teeth, then sat heavily back in his chair and said nothing more.

But the look in his eyes as he stared at the red area on the map still burned with a kind of impatient, fierce light.

The mornings at the Huangyadong Arsenal begin with birdsong and the sound of hammering.

When Zhou Zhen woke up at the table, he found himself covered with that cotton coat and a bowl of cold porridge in front of him.

He rubbed his stiff neck, stood up, and walked outside the cave.

As dawn broke, the workers were already busy. Master Chen Shan was inspecting an air pump, while Master Zhang Tieniu and several apprentices were cutting steel plates, the clanging sounds echoing through the valley.

Zhou Zhen washed his face with cold water, which made him a little more awake, but the problem still lingered in his mind.

"Factory manager, it's time to eat."

Zhao Dajiang's voice rang out from behind.

Zhou Zhen turned around and saw Zhao Dajiang carrying something in; in the rough porcelain bowl were two steaming cornbread buns.

"I have no appetite." Zhou Zhen smiled apologetically. Another day had passed, and the matter was still unresolved. He simply couldn't eat.

"No." Zhao Dajiang walked up to him and handed the bowl directly to his eyes.

"Man is made of iron, food is made of steel. You haven't eaten much these past few days, and you haven't slept much either. If this continues, the problem won't be solved, and you'll collapse first."

If you collapse, then no one will be able to solve the problem of the steam activation furnace.

Zhou Zhen rarely saw Zhao Dajiang's attitude so tough, and he was somewhat taken aback by the outburst.

You should know that Zhao Dajiang is usually very easy to talk to. He never refuses the tasks assigned to him, and he always does his best to complete them well.

I've really pushed this honest man to the limit this time.

Seeing Zhou Zhen looking somewhat dazed, Zhao Dajiang's tone softened.

"Factory manager, since you don't want to eat cornbread, then come with me to the kitchen."

"Old Chen said this morning he wanted to make you something new, to change things up. Let's go see if it's ready yet."

Zhou Zhen knew he couldn't refuse, so he could only nod and follow Zhao Dajiang to the kitchen.