Bright Sword: I built Italian cannons for Li Yunlong

Seeing this, he finally stopped insisting.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'll do whatever you say."

He gave a helpless bitter smile. Faced with Zhao Dajiang's sudden gathering of people to "force his abdication," he could only compromise and then weakly nodded.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that he had agreed, and satisfied smiles appeared on their faces.

Old Chen brought over the porridge again.

This time he didn't leave. After handing the porridge to Zhao Dajiang, he stood at the door and watched Zhou Zhen finish the porridge spoonful by spoonful.

As he watched, he grinned, his face crinkling with wrinkles.

Then he turned around and limped away, though his steps were noticeably lighter than when he came.

During the few days he was resting in bed, Zhou Zhen was not completely idle.

He summoned the key personnel responsible for each stage of activated carbon production to his bedside, one by one.

He leaned against the headboard, his voice still a little weak, but his thoughts were exceptionally clear.

"Master Han, the maintenance and calibration of equipment such as pressure gauges and valves are key to stable production, so you'll have to put in a lot of effort."

Han Shan sat on the stool by the bed and nodded earnestly.

"Master Li, the quality of the charcoal and the size of the particles must be strictly in accordance with the best standards determined by our experiments. There can be no carelessness."

Li Tantou nodded vigorously, rubbing his hands together, and said, "Don't worry, Factory Director, I know what I'm doing."

"Master Zhang, the daily inspection of the activation furnace and the regular replacement of the seals cannot be neglected."

"Don't worry, factory manager, I'm keeping an eye on things every day!" Zhang Tieniu assured him.

Zhou Zhen went through and emphasized the details of the logging, charcoal production, activation process control, and even the precautions for the later alkaline soaking process.

Finally, he took a breath, looked at the people gathered around the bed, and spoke in a soft but extremely solemn voice.

"Don't blindly pursue speed. Before each batch of activated carbon leaves the factory, we must conduct a simple test on samples. Only those that pass the test can be used. Our products are for saving lives, and we cannot afford to be careless in the slightest."

"Don't worry, factory manager!" everyone said in unison, making a solemn promise.

After explaining everything, Zhou Zhen felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

In the following days, he was "forced" to stay in the dormitory area to recuperate.

Every day, besides looking at the simple production reports sent by Zhao Dajiang, he was also kept under Old Chen's watchful eye as he drank all sorts of soups and broths.

It is said that Old Chen went to great lengths on the mountain to find the medicinal herbs needed to brew these soups.

The most obvious reaction from the factory is that the dumpling soup tastes significantly worse these past few days.

Old Chen stood by the bed with a bowl in his hand, and he would never leave until he had watched him finish drinking it.

Outside the window, the fire in the stove burns day and night.

Those qualified black carbon granules are produced continuously.

During the days he was ill, he deeply felt the care and love from everyone.

In his own opinion, he hadn't done anything.

Because compared to another time and space, they created a miracle with courage and perseverance in the face of national crisis, despite the more difficult conditions they faced, without fear of hardship or sacrifice.

What he is doing now is truly insignificant compared to their greatness.

However, in later generations, in that new nation forged with their blood and spirits,

A bunch of idle idiots are actually publicly slandering these lovely people in various magazines and media outlets.

They shamelessly promote the idea that Chinese people are ungrateful and lack manners.

A group of people who have forgotten their roots and become beasts raised in Western ocean aquaculture for personal gain have actually dared to enter the halls of society and boast online about what Western civilization is.

But they may have forgotten that this so-called civilization is nothing more than a false gimmick built on the rampant plunder of others' blood and bones.

What's even more ridiculous is that some of the more bizarre things actually advocated that the Japanese were polite and civilized.

A small country with a small population knows minor etiquette but lacks great righteousness, is bound by trivialities but lacks great virtue, values ​​minor details but disregards integrity and shame, fears power but not virtue, and the strong will inevitably become bandits and robbers, while the weak will inevitably become subservient.

Such a group of people, who are malicious at heart but humble on the surface, are mere monkeys in human clothing, and are actually being praised.

What is benevolence and righteousness? What is gratitude?

That is the courage of the Chinese people in the face of great disasters, their fearlessness in the face of personal life and death, and their unwavering determination to never give up or abandon.

That was the way the descendants of foreign benefactors repaid their kindness without considering their own difficulties when they asked for help.

Such a country, such a people, are the imprints of civilization left by thousands of years of time.

This is by no means a group of barbarians who can display their civilization simply by putting on fine clothes.

Having transmigrated here, he felt both honored and humbled to have the opportunity to work with such a group of idealistic and simple-minded predecessors.

It wasn't that he didn't care about his health; it was just that with the Japanese army potentially using poison gas at any moment, he dared not relax his vigilance in the slightest.

His knowledge and the images he had seen gave him a clear understanding of the horrors of poison gas.

Whether it's mustard gas that erodes the skin or chlorine gas that burns the lungs, the casualties caused by its spread among unprotected people would be extremely horrific. Under such weapons, facing death directly would be a relief.

Those who survived the gas attack by sheer luck would gradually and painfully die during the long ordeal.

The skin blistered and ulcerated, and given the medical conditions in the base areas after 1940, there was absolutely no possibility of a cure.

The mere thought of watching one's body being eroded by a poison is enough to send chills down one's spine.

Therefore, even though he was physically and mentally exhausted, he still persevered through sheer willpower, almost like self-hypnosis.

He only thought that if reliable protection could be developed a day earlier, perhaps more comrades' lives could be saved in the future.

This thought was both his strength and his nightmare, making him dare not slack off in the slightest.

Fortunately, the process for stable production of activated carbon has finally been mastered, and the arsenal has established a relatively reliable process.

Master craftsmen like Zhang Tieniu, Han Shan, and Li Tantou took on key responsibilities, and the production line began to operate smoothly.

Under the "forced" care of everyone, Zhou Zhen began his vacation, which was his first vacation since he came to the arsenal.

After all, the road to revolution is long, and he wouldn't have risked his life so desperately if the situation hadn't been so urgent.

Just as his health was beginning to improve, the brigade commander arrived at Huangyadong in a flurry of travel.

Clearly, news of Zhou Zhen's illness also alarmed his superiors.

The brigade commander didn't check the production results first, but went straight to Zhou Zhen's room where he was recuperating, his face showing undisguised concern: "Comrade Zhou Zhen, how are you feeling?"

Zhou Zhen quickly sat up in bed, his face still showing signs of illness, but his spirits had improved considerably.

"Thank you for your concern, Commander! I'm much better now, just tired. It's really nothing serious, and I'm so glad you went out of your way to make the trip..."