Chief Armaments Master of the Ming Dynasty

After leaving the gunpowder workshop, Lin Fan went to the foundry.

Inside the foundry, blacksmith Sun was carefully pouring molten iron into a sand mold with several apprentices.

Molten iron, glowing red-hot, poured from the crucible into the gating of the sand mold, emitting a slight hissing sound and rising a plume of white smoke.

They were pouring cannonballs.

With a cannon, you must have suitable shells.

Solid shot is relatively simple—it's cast from pig iron, cooled, and polished smooth, with a diameter slightly smaller than the gun barrel to ensure smooth loading without excessive gaps that could waste propellant gases. The real challenge lies in explosive shot.

Lin Fan wanted shells that could explode in enemy territory and kill enemy personnel.

But in this era, the exploding bullet is truly cutting-edge technology.

First is the fuse.

When a shell is flying through the air, the fuse must not be extinguished or detonated prematurely.

The burning time must be precisely controlled so that the shell explodes just above the target or the instant it hits the ground.

Lin Fan tried dozens of materials and finally chose a specially made fuse—a fuse made by tightly rolling fine gunpowder powder in cotton paper, soaking it in tung oil, drying it in the sun, and then coating it with a thin layer of sulfur. This fuse burns stably, is not easy to extinguish, and has a relatively controllable burning speed.

Secondly, there's the projectile itself.

The projectile, made of cast iron, produces too few fragments upon explosion, resulting in insufficient lethality.

Lin Fan carved crisscrossing grooves on the outer wall of the projectile—these are pre-made fragmentation grooves.

Upon explosion, the projectile will split along these grooves, forming fragments of relatively uniform size.

"Master Lin, seven of these projectiles passed inspection." Sun the blacksmith wiped the sweat from his brow and pointed to a row of freshly cooled projectiles on the ground. "Three of them were ruined, all due to pinholes."

Lin Fan squatted down and checked them one by one.

The seven qualified projectiles have smooth surfaces and produce a crisp sound when struck, without any muffled noise.

"Recycle the scraps." He stood up. "Fill this batch of qualified products with the gunpowder."

Sun the blacksmith responded and told his apprentices to start loading the medicine.

---

Outside the blacksmith's shop, the snow had stopped sometime earlier.

Lin Fan stood at the doorway, gazing at the tranquil valley in the twilight.

Smoke rose from the direction of the campsite.

Faint sounds of human voices and dogs barking could be heard—the sounds of life.

But just then, he heard a sound that shouldn't have been there.

The sound of horses' hooves. Not just one or two, but a small troop. It came from the direction of the valley entrance, growing closer and closer.

Lin Fan's pupils contracted slightly.

This was a "restricted area" designated by Li Zicheng for him; apart from his artisans and soldiers transporting supplies, no one was allowed to approach without permission.

The sound of horses' hooves...

He instinctively gripped the hilt of the knife at his waist.

It was Liu Zongmin who arrived.

Surrounded by dozens of guards, he reined in his horse on the narrow valley path.

Liu Zongmin did not dismount.

He looked down at Lin Fan, his gaze passing over him to the blast furnace behind him, spewing flames, and the mountain of steel billets piled up beside it.

"Master Lin, it's been a long time." Liu Zongmin's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unsettling smile. "I heard you've smelted steel and built cannons. I came here specifically to see you."

Lin Fan clasped his hands in a respectful but not arrogant manner: "Chief Liu, the general has ordered that this place is a crucial workshop, and no one may enter without the general's permission."

"Anyone?" Liu Zongmin's smile remained unchanged, but his eyes turned cold. "Am I anyone?"

"That is the military order."

Liu Zongmin stared at him for a few moments, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Good! What a fine military order!" He dismounted, but showed no intention of leaving. Instead, he strode towards the blast furnace. "I certainly wouldn't dare disobey Brother Li's orders. But look, surely I haven't broken any military orders?"

His personal guards followed closely behind, their hands on the hilts of their swords, glaring menacingly.

Han Jinhu, who was standing next to Lin Fan, turned pale and quietly tugged at Lin Fan's sleeve.

Lin Fan did not move.

Liu Zongmin walked to the blast furnace and looked up at the enormous machine that spewed out flames.

The firelight illuminated the hideous scar on his face, making his expression appear unpredictable.

"Good stuff," he murmured, reaching out to touch the scorching refractory bricks on the furnace wall, then pulling his hand back and blowing on his fingertips. "Truly good stuff. Master Lin, your skills are wasted in our camp."

He turned around and looked at Lin Fan, his eyes filled with undisguised greed and probing.

"I heard that Zhang Xianzhong sent men to try and poach you. You refused. Why?"

"I am General Li's man," Lin Fan said calmly.

"General Li..." Liu Zongmin smacked his lips, as if savoring the meaning of those three words, "Yes, we are all General Li's men."

"What does Chief Liu want to say?"

"What I want to say," Liu Zongmin stepped closer, "is that Brother Li is a good man. But he's too cautious. These days, the bold get rich, the timid starve. How much of the steel you painstakingly forge and the cannons you build will you and your craftsmen actually get?"

Lin Fan remained silent.

Liu Zongmin patted his shoulder with a force that was neither too light nor too heavy, sounding like both affection and a warning.

"Master Lin, you're a smart man. There are some things I don't need to explain too clearly; just think them over carefully."

He said no more, turned around and strode away.

Surrounded by his personal guards, the sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the twilight of the valley.

Lin Fan stood there, gazing in the direction he had left, remaining silent for a long time.

Han Jinhu leaned closer, his voice trembling, "Brother Lin, what...what does Chief Liu mean?"

"Nothing to say." Lin Fan withdrew his gaze, turned, and walked towards the blacksmith's shop. "Pass down the order: from today onwards, double guards will be added to the craftsman's area. Without my order, no one is allowed to approach the blast furnace or the gunpowder workshop. No one."

Han Jinhu paused for a moment, then nodded emphatically: "Yes!"

---

That night.

Lin Fan's residence was a simple wooden hut right next to the blacksmith's shop.

An oil lamp illuminated several pairs of serious eyes.

Han Jinhu, Lao Geng, and Shuanzhu—old brothers who had followed him all the way from Huanglong Mountain—sat around Lin Fan.

"Brother Lin, Liu Zongmin didn't just say that casually today," Old Geng said first, his voice hoarse.

He came from a background as a scout in the border army, possessing an instinctive sense of danger. "He's openly trying to win me over. If that fails, I'm afraid..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present understood what he meant.

Han Jinhu rubbed his hands, his face full of worry: "Liu Zongmin is a veteran of the rebel army, with over a thousand brothers under his command, all earned through real battles. Even the general has to give him some face. If he attacks us, we..."

"We're not afraid of him," Shuanzhu said in a low voice. This taciturn old border soldier rarely spoke, "We'll meet force with force, and water with earth. No matter how capable Liu Zongmin is, can he really force his way into the forbidden zone designated by the general?"

"I'm not afraid of what's out in the open, but I'm afraid of what's hidden." Old Geng shook his head. "Poisoning, arson, bribing craftsmen, night patrols... He has all sorts of people working for him, it's impossible to guard against them."

Lin Fan remained silent, listening to their argument.

Then he suddenly spoke up: "We can't rely solely on defense."

All eyes were on him.

"Why does Liu Zongmin dare to be so blatant?" Lin Fan's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "Because he feels that the enemy camp can't function without him. He has many soldiers under his command, and they are capable fighters. Even if the general finds out about his underhanded tactics, he won't dare to do anything to him."

"Isn't that right?" Han Jinhu asked worriedly. "The general really can't do without him now."

"Just because we can't leave now doesn't mean we can't leave forever." Lin Fan's gaze swept over everyone. "What we need to do is get the general away from him as soon as possible."

Old Geng's eyes flashed: "Brother Lin, you mean...?"

"Steel," Lin Fan said. "Cannons. Gunpowder. And a force fully under our own control, armed with steel and gunpowder."

The room was silent. Everyone understood.

Han Jinhu swallowed hard. "Brother Lin, you mean...we'll train our own troops?"

"It's not us," Lin Fan shook his head. "It's the general. But we must accomplish this for the general."

He stood up, walked to the door, and gazed at the tranquil valley in the night. The flames from the blast furnace illuminated half the sky.

"I will go see the general tomorrow."