Chief Armaments Master of the Ming Dynasty

The next morning, Lin Fan went to Li Zicheng's central command tent.

He recounted in detail how Liu Zongmin had gone to the crafts district.

There was no embellishment, nor was there any concealment of my concerns.

After listening, Li Zicheng remained silent for a long time.

Then he asked a question.

"What are you planning to do?"

"Forge more steel and build more cannons," Lin Fan said. "Also, train a new army for the general. Five hundred men will suffice. Equip them all with steel swords and armor, and provide them with cannons and thunderclaps. Form an independent army, and they will only obey the general's orders."

Li Zicheng looked at him with a deep gaze.

After a long while, he slowly opened his mouth.

"Five hundred men. Swords, armor, cannons—all made of steel. Do you know how much steel that takes?"

"I understand. That's why I need time, manpower, and the general's full support. More importantly, this new army must be trained from scratch. We can't draw personnel from the existing battalions."

Why?

"Each battalion has its own faction. There are Liu's men, Mr. Gu's men, and the other old brothers' men... Taking anyone from them will disrupt the balance and bring in the habits of each battalion. The new army must be a blank sheet of paper, drawn from scratch."

Li Zicheng remained silent for a long time.

Then he said one word.

"allow."

---

The soldiers of the new army were personally selected by Li Zicheng.

They didn't draw from the old camp, but rather selected able-bodied young men over sixteen years old from among the refugees who had fled with their families.

These people had never been on the battlefield, never killed anyone, and had not picked up the habits of seasoned veterans.

They are like blank canvases, ready to be painted with the newest and best designs.

Lin Fan poured all his heart and soul into this new army.

He personally designed the training syllabus.

Every day before dawn, five hundred new recruits are woken up by whistles and lined up in the cold wind.

First, they ran—running around the valley until everyone was drenched in sweat, until some vomited and others collapsed.

The person who had collapsed was dragged aside.

The next day, they continued running.

After physical training comes formation training.

Turn left, turn right, march, run, halt.

These basic formations, which seem dull and tedious to later generations, were unheard of in this era.

The new recruits didn't understand why they had to spend so much time practicing "walking".

Lin Fan did not explain.

He simply stood in front of the queue, calling out commands over and over again.

Whoever makes a mistake will be punished.

Punishments included running, push-ups, and standing at attention in the snow.

Han Jinhu couldn't understand: "Brother Lin, what's the use of just practicing walking? Can you kill the enemy by walking on the battlefield?"

"Yes," Lin Fan said. "If the formation is well-trained, there won't be chaos on the battlefield. If there's no chaos, there's survival."

Besides queues, there is also discipline.

Lin Fan set more than a dozen ironclad rules for the new army: advance at the sound of the drum and retreat at the sound of the gong.

Advance and retreat in an orderly manner; there must be no chaos.

During wartime, no noise or disturbance is permitted, and no one may leave the unit without authorization.

No one may plunder the people without cause, nor may they keep the spoils of war.

Those who violate this rule will be punished with military flogging at the very least, and beheading at worst.

These rules were personally approved by Li Zicheng.

The new recruits were initially not used to it.

They were all starving people who couldn't survive, and were used to being loose and self-preserving.

But Lin Fan didn't give them a chance to adapt.

Anyone who violates the rules will be punished in front of the entire team that same day.

The military baton struck the buttocks with dull thuds, and the punished person gritted their teeth, cold sweat pouring down their face.

Everyone watched, but no one dared to utter a sound.

Gradually, the rules became habits.

Habits become instincts.

While conducting drills and physical training, Lin Fan began changing the uniforms of the new soldiers.

The newly manufactured steel knives are exclusively for the new army.

The blade is long and slender with a moderate curve, and the edge has been carefully quenched, making it sharp and tough.

The handle is made of hardwood and wrapped with hemp rope soaked in tung oil, making it feel solid and powerful in the hand.

Each knife has a small "闯" (chuǎng, meaning "to break through") engraved on its blade, along with a serial number.

The recruits' eyes shone as they received their own knives.

They had never seen such a fine knife in their lives.

The second batch of equipment was steel armor.

It's not iron armor, it's steel armor.

The thin steel sheets that Lin Fan refined were forged one by one and then strung together with leather straps.

Lighter than traditional armor, yet harder than armor.

From fifty paces away, it can block direct fire from standard-issue bows and arrows of the government troops.

There weren't enough steel armor sets to make 500; Lin Fan only managed to create 120 sets.

He distributed these 120 sets of steel armor to the 120 best and most hardworking trainees.

These 120 men were organized into three "steel armor teams" and served as the spearhead of the new army.

On the day he received the armor, a young soldier named Zhang Nai hugged it and cried.

He is eighteen years old this year. He was originally a tenant farmer in Mizhi County, Shaanxi Province. His parents starved to death, and he joined the fleeing group and joined the new army in a daze.

"Master Lin..." he said, wiping away tears, his voice choked with emotion, "If my parents knew that I could wear such armor, they would die in peace."

Lin Fan patted him on the shoulder: "Practice hard. Stay alive. In the future, you'll wear even better armor."

---

The training of the new army also included something that no other battalion had—artillery.

Lin Fan selected some bright, bold, and meticulous young people from among the craftsmen to form the first "artillery unit" of the new army.

The artillery unit consisted of fifty men, divided into squads of ten, and was equipped with five steel cannons—two solid shot cannons and three shotguns.

The gunners had to learn more than just how to light the fire and fire the cannons.

They need to learn range finding, wind observation, and how to adjust the muzzle elevation and propellant charge based on the target's distance.

Lacking modern rangefinding instruments, Lin Fan taught them a makeshift method—erecting a pole of known height and estimating the distance by the angle between the pole and the gun muzzle.

This method is not precise, but with repeated practice, the error can be controlled within 10 to 20 steps within 200 to 300 steps.

That's enough for a smoothbore cannon.

Gunners also had to learn how to maintain the cannons—after a certain number of uses, they had to clean the breech with a wet wool brush, then dry it and apply oil.

Gunpowder and fuses must be protected from moisture.

Lin Fan personally demonstrated and assessed each step of the process.

---

Lunar New Year's eve.

A bonfire was lit in the valley.

Many people died that year.

Tian Ergou, and many more brothers whose names I don't know.

But most people survived.

From Lubaoling to Ningxiang, and then from Ningxiang to Ziwuling, they traveled thousands of miles, surviving the encirclement and suppression by government troops and the double attack of famine and plague.

To be alive is the greatest victory.

Lin Fan sat by the campfire, holding a bowl of steaming mutton soup in his hands.

This was the first meal of meat he had eaten since arriving in this era.

There weren't many seasonings in the soup, just salt and a few slices of garlic, but the rich aroma of meat almost brought tears to his eyes.

Han Jinhu squatted down next to him, gnawing on a lamb bone, his face covered in oil.

"Brother Lin, do you think we can take over a county town next year?"

"What's the point of taking the county seat?"

"Yes, I'll stay here," Han Jinhu said matter-of-factly. "It's alright in the summer in this valley, but it's too cold in the winter. There are houses in the county town, heated kang beds, and..."

He suddenly stopped.

He thought of Tian Ergou.

When Tian Ergou was alive, he always talked about wanting to live in a house with a heated kang (a traditional Chinese bed-stove).

Lin Fan didn't speak. He stared at the campfire, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

"Brother Han, we'll take down the county town sooner or later. Not just the county town, but also the prefectural city, the provincial city, and the capital city." He paused, "But taking down the city isn't for us to live in. It's so that people like Er Gou won't have to live in shacks anymore, won't have to gnaw on tree bark anymore, won't have to... eat people anymore."

Han Jinhu fell silent. The soldiers around him who heard this also fell silent.

The campfire crackled, and sparks flew into the night sky, merging with the countless stars.

In the distance, Li Zicheng stood in front of the central command tent, gazing at the scattered campfires in the valley and listening to the faint sounds of the new recruits singing.

Those songs were taught to them by Lin Fan.

The tune is quirky and the lyrics are straightforward, but when you sing it, it makes you feel at ease.

"General, Lin's new army is indeed well-trained," Gu Jun'en said softly from behind him. "The formations are orderly and the discipline is excellent. Given time, they will surely become a formidable force."

Li Zicheng nodded without saying a word.

"But..." Gu Jun'en hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping himself.

"Just what?"

"However, this new army only obeys the general's orders and Master Lin's commands. I'm afraid Chief Liu might have some reservations."

Li Zicheng glanced at him.

His gaze was calm, yet it sent a chill down Gu Jun'en's spine.

"Jun'en, I'm asking you. What is Liu Zongmin's relationship with me for?"

Gu Jun'en carefully considered his words: "Chief Liu is the general's old brother, having followed him since the beginning of the uprising, so naturally he is...utterly loyal."

"Utterly loyal." Li Zicheng repeated these four words, a slight smile playing on his lips, the meaning unclear. "I believe in his loyalty. But is his loyalty to me, or to my position as the 'rebel general'?"

Gu Jun'en dared not answer.

Li Zicheng did not press the matter. He gazed at the campfire in the valley, his voice low but clear.

"Jun En, remember this. In this world, nothing is more reliable than the knife in your own hand. Liu Zongmin's knife is his own. Lin Fan's knife was forged for me. That's the difference."

Gu Jun'en's heart skipped a beat, and he bowed, saying, "Your subordinate understands."

In the distance, the faint singing of the new recruits could be heard.

The tune was stiff and the lyrics were straightforward, but when hundreds of voices roared out together, it had a kind of exhilarating power.

"How can you say we have no clothes? We share the same robes. The king is raising an army; let us prepare our spears and shields..."

That was taught to them by Lin Fan.

A war song from more than two thousand years ago.

On New Year's Eve of the second year of the Chongzhen reign, in this desolate mountain wilderness sealed off by heavy snow, a group of young men dressed in steel armor and carrying steel knives roared out this ancient war song with their rough, untrained voices.

The song echoed through the valley, startling the crows roosting in the pine forest.

Crows circled in the night sky, emitting mournful cries.

Then, it flies far away.