Did he trick the young marshal into becoming sworn brothers and then go south to Huangpu Military Ac

"Look at this lump of iron again."

Lin Qi threw the gun barrel back into the box with a dull thud: "What kind of open-hearth furnace does your steel mill use? The desulfurization and dephosphorization are completely substandard. What's worse is the heat treatment. After the gun barrel is forged, it must undergo strict annealing and tempering to eliminate internal stress. This cross-section has crystalline particles, making it extremely brittle. Obviously, the temperature wasn't controlled after quenching, and it was directly rapid cooled."

Lin Qi pulled up a chair and sat down, then casually grabbed a pen and paper, the pen scratching softly on the paper.

"The barrel is too brittle. When it comes into contact with that kind of low-quality gunpowder with unstable chamber pressure, it expands instantly under high temperature and pressure. It would be a miracle if it didn't explode."

In less than half an hour, the military industry deadlock that had plagued the Fengtian clique for nearly half a year was stripped bare by a few glasses of strong liquor and a barrage of metal blows.

Zhang Hanqing felt a chill run down his spine. Those German technicians and veteran craftsmen in the arsenal who were paid high salaries usually acted all high and mighty, spouting a bunch of foreign terms he couldn't understand, but it was all nonsense.

Lin Qi handed the paper filled with formulas and charts to Zhang Hanqing.

"First, the gunpowder washing process will be increased three times, with 0.5% sodium carbonate added to the water to neutralize the residual acid. Second, the gun barrel will undergo heat treatment; after quenching, it must be tempered at a constant temperature in a 400-degree oil bath for two hours. Take these data parameters to the factory and make the changes overnight. I need to see the finished product tomorrow."

Zhang Hanqing took the paper with both hands, the probing and doubt in his eyes completely gone, replaced by almost fanatical worship.

This is a classic example of overwhelming strength; there are no lengthy explanations, only facts and data to speak for themselves, showcasing the full power of a top science PhD from a hundred years later.

"Guard company, assemble! Follow me to the arsenal!"

Zhang Hanqing grabbed his military cap and headed out. At the door, he suddenly turned back and nodded heavily to Lin Qi.

……

The next day at noon, at the shooting range on the back mountain of Beiling.

Gunshots rang out in rapid succession, like popping beans.

Ten guards lay prone in the snow pit, holding newly made rifles produced overnight, and fired wildly at a wooden target in the distance.

The bright yellow bullet casings were scattered all over the ground.

Zhang Hanqing stood beside Lin Qi, clutching his pocket watch, his eyes fixed on the soldiers.

"Two hundred shots!" the guard captain reported loudly.

"Keep hitting! Keep hitting until it's all gone!" Zhang Hanqing's voice was a little hoarse.

Another burst of gunfire followed.

Ten minutes later, the gunfire stopped, and the soldiers stood up, rubbing their numb shoulders.

The barrels of the ten rifles emitted hot, acrid white smoke, and the gun bodies were scorching hot, but the mechanisms operated smoothly and the locking tenons were intact.

There was no explosion, not even a single one.

Even the phenomenon of misfiring is extremely rare.

Zhang Hanqing rushed forward, ignoring the heat, grabbed a rifle, stared intently at the intact barrel, and his eyes reddened.

For a warlord, having a gun that doesn't work well is worse than having his wife run off with someone else.

Now, not only is the problem solved, but it's been solved so effortlessly.

Zhang Hanqing turned around, walked a few steps to Lin Qi, stood at attention, and gave a very formal military salute.

"Dr. Lin, from this day forward, in this region of Northeast China, your life is my life."

Lin Qi put his hands in his coat pockets, nodded slightly, neither boasting nor feigning reluctance.

Zhang Hanqing found his attitude of taking it for granted even more unfathomable.

That evening, in the main hall of the annex.

A wire mesh is placed on the charcoal stove, and the finest venison is roasting until it sizzles and drips with oil.

After drinking a few glasses of wine, Zhang Hanqing completely let loose, ripped open the collar of his military uniform, and waved the wine glass in his hand with great excitement.

"Dr. Lin, with your skills, doubling the output and quality of the arsenal is not a dream. When spring comes, let's build more cannons and stockpile more ammunition. I'll personally train the troops; we'll definitely cross the Shanhaiguan Pass and beat that old bastard Wu Ziyu to a pulp!"

Lin Qi slowly flipped a piece of roasted meat over and sprinkled it with a little salt.

Looking at Zhang Hanqing's ambitious yet shortsighted face, he knew the time was ripe.

After all that buildup and this much posturing, it's time to reveal your true purpose.

"Defeat Wu Ziyu, and then what?"

Lin Qi put down the clips, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip.

"And then? Then, of course, we'll march south and conquer the Central Plains! Our Fengtian Army..."

"Hanqing," Lin Qi interrupted him, his form of address suddenly changing to one that carried a hint of intimacy, though his voice was soft but carried an undeniable chill.

Zhang Hanqing was stunned for a moment.

"You keep an eye on the Zhili clique every day, on Wu Ziyu, on Duan Qirui."

Lin Qi stood up and walked to the wall, where a huge map of the warlord era of the Republic of China was hanging.

He picked up a wooden stick and casually tapped it on the territories of several warlords in the north: "These old warlords are nothing but bones in a grave. If you defeat them, what will you use to deal with the Japanese behind you? What will you use to fill this mess riddled with holes?"

Lin Qi swung the wooden stick downwards sharply, slamming it heavily into a point at the southernmost point of the map.

"Your real enemy, or rather, the eye of the storm in the future, is not in the north at all."

Zhang Hanqing looked in the direction of the wooden stick.

That's in Guangdong, Guangzhou.

"The south?" Zhang Hanqing frowned, his drunkenness subsiding somewhat. "Sun Yat-sen? He doesn't even have a decent regular army. He relies on a few Cantonese warlords to put on a show. What kind of power can he possibly achieve?"

Lin Qi sneered, threw away the wooden stick, turned around and looked at Zhang Hanqing, his eyes revealing a profound understanding of the mysteries of history.

"It couldn't have been before. But things are different now. He's taken money from the Soviet Union, uses guns from the Soviet Union, and most terrifyingly, he's going to inject something into the army that you old warlords will never understand—faith."

Lin Qi walked back to the table, placed his hands on the surface, leaned forward, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Hanqing, a major upheaval is coming. If the Fengtian clique doesn't want to be crushed into dust by this torrent in a few years, it must plan ahead."