After ten years of accompanying me in my studies, the entire court begged me to shut up.

This is a drawing of a spinning machine.

However, it is completely different from the traditional spinning wheel.

Traditional spinning wheels have only one spindle, which is hand-cranked and can only spin one thread at a time.

The drawing shows multiple spindles arranged in a row, connected by a transmission structure in the middle, with intersecting wheels and axles, making it easy to understand.

Yang Chunhua had been in the cloth business for decades and had never seen a spinning wheel before.

I spun thread by hand when I was young, so I know how hard that work is.

A skilled spinner, spinning from morning till night, with her hands constantly shaking and her feet constantly pedaling, can only spin four or five ounces of yarn a day.

He recognized it at a glance: a multi-spindle spinning machine!

Moreover, it's a spinning machine that can turn one thread into multiple threads!

He raised his head, looked at Yang Shen, and his lips trembled.

"This...this is..."

Yang Shen said calmly, "This spinning machine can spin ten threads at a time, or even more, which means that one person can do the work of ten people."

Yang Chunhua looked down at the blueprints again, and the more she looked, the more alarmed she became.

He could understand every structure and every component of the spinning wheel.

The bamboo and wooden wheels, the hemp rope drive, the iron spindle, and the wooden frame structure are no different from the original spinning wheel; the old parts can be directly modified for use.

Because I can understand it, I know what it means once this thing is made.

Yang Shen asked, "What does Uncle think?"

Yang Chunhua looked up and found that her eyes were red.

"Nephew...nephew, you truly are a child prodigy! Even a casual drawing is a masterpiece that astounds the world!"

He was so excited that he was incoherent, and his hands were trembling as he held the blueprints.

After Yang Shen waited until he had calmed down a bit, he asked, "Uncle, with this new spinning wheel, and given the strength of the cloth guild, is it possible for them to replace the South as the new textile center?"

Yang Chunhua took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

He thought about it seriously for a long time, but still shook his head.

"The efficiency of spinning yarn has improved, but the efficiency of the looms used for weaving hasn't changed. Having yarn alone isn't enough; it has to be woven into cloth to be sold..."

"Even if we only make spindles, that's enough! We can sell yarn! Once this spinning wheel comes out, the whole world will come to buy our yarn! There are many looms in Songjiang, and they use up yarn quickly. They don't have enough yarn of their own and have to buy it from other places. If our yarn is both cheap and good, the weavers in Songjiang will be begging us to sell it!"

Yang Shen smiled slightly: "Don't rush, there's more."

As he spoke, he picked up a pen again and began to draw on another piece of paper.

Yang Chunhua's eyes widened as she stared intently at the piece of paper.

This time I drew faster, sketching out a simple structure in just a few strokes.

It resembles a small boat-shaped wooden block, pointed at both ends and hollowed out in the middle, so that it can be placed into the shuttle of a loom.

Yang Shen put down his pen and handed over the second drawing.

Yang Chunhua took it and froze.

Traditionally, the shuttle contains a weft thread, which is wound inside the warp. When weaving, the weaver throws the shuttle to the right with his left hand, catches it with his right hand, and throws it back. Back and forth, the shuttle passes through the warp threads, and the weft thread is woven in.

This job looks simple, but it's actually extremely mentally taxing.

Your hand must be steady, your eyes must be accurate, and the force you throw must be neither too great nor too small.

If too much force is applied, the shuttle will fly over its head and hit the frame, causing the weft to loosen and resulting in unevenly woven fabric. If too little force is applied, the shuttle will fall off halfway and get stuck in the warp threads, requiring the machine to stop and reach in to retrieve it.

A weaver sits from morning till night, constantly swinging his arms, and by the end of the day, his shoulders are swollen.

But Yang Shen's painting is different.

The shuttle has wheels on both sides, which are engaged in a groove fixed to the weft plate of the loom. A small mechanism is installed on top of the shuttle, with a thin rope leading out from each side. The rope passes through the pulley, hangs down, and is tied to a small pull plate.

In this way, the weaver no longer needs to throw the shuttle in one hand and catch it in the other.

Yang Chunhua looked at the blueprints, already imagining the scene in her mind.

When weaving, you only need to hold the lever with one hand, pull it to the left to tighten the rope and make the shuttle fly to the right. Pull it to the right to loosen the rope and make the spring bounce the shuttle back.

You don't even need to lift your hand; just a gentle pull and release, and the shuttle runs back and forth in the groove.

In the past, weaving a single piece of cloth required tens of thousands of hand movements, just tossing and unspinning the shuttle back and forth.

Now, you can simply sit there, gently pull the rope with one hand, and the shuttle will run on its own, as if you were playing a game.

He quickly did a mental calculation.

A skilled weaver, using the old methods, can weave cloth from morning till night without stopping, but can only weave one bolt of cloth a day at most, and that requires quick hands and feet.

With this flying shuttle, weaving two or three bolts of cloth in the same amount of time is no problem at all!

He looked up at Yang Shen, then looked down at the blueprints.

Let's take another look at Yang Shen, and then at the blueprints.

His lips trembled; he wanted to say something, but couldn't utter a single word.

Tears streamed down my face.

"My dear nephew... what a good nephew..."

Yang Shen was startled by his appearance: "Uncle? What's wrong?"

Yang Chunhua waved her hand, unable to speak, only crying.

She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, her face covered in snot and tears.

His mind was a jumbled mess, yet incredibly clear.

With these two things, Songjiang Prefecture is no match for us!

We couldn't compete with others before because our skills and equipment were inferior. Now that we have these blueprints, what are we afraid of?

Outside the study, Lai Fu and Yang Tinghe stood a little distance away.

Laifu listened intently and whispered, "Master, what exactly did Chairman Yang and the young master talk about? Why is he crying?"

Yang Tinghe frowned slightly and sighed.

"This is a bit tricky. No matter what, he's an elder of the same clan. We can't push him to the brink. I'll go check on him!"

He straightened his robes and walked towards the study.

As soon as I entered, I saw Yang Chunhua with tears streaming down her face, sobbing uncontrollably.

Yang Shen stood aside, at a loss for what to do.

Yang Tinghe frowned even more deeply, looked at Yang Shen, and his tone became serious.

"Shen'er, he's still our uncle from the same clan, aren't you going to show him any respect?"

Yang Shen opened his mouth: "Father, I..."

Yang Tinghe waved his hand, interrupting, "I know that Zhao Wu and Wang Er are indeed not good people. But they were just following orders and are not some great villains. A little punishment is enough; there's no need to kill them all."

He sighed, his tone softening.

"Everyone's having a tough time, let them have a way to survive! You're going to be staying in the capital for so long, you'll see each other all the time, why bother..."

Yang Shen quickly explained, "Father, it's not what you think..."

Before he could finish speaking, Yang Chunhua had already pounced on him.

He grabbed Yang Tinghe's arm, his face streaked with tears, trembling with emotion.

"Master Yang! Master Yang! You have raised a fine son!"

Yang Tinghe was stunned for a moment, not reacting immediately.

"Brother, what's wrong with you...?"

Yang Chunhua shook his arm hard, her voice cracking.

"Our guild is saved! Saved! Hahaha!"

Yang Tinghe was completely dumbfounded.

He looked at Yang Chunhua, then at Yang Shen, and then at the paper on the table, which had some strange lines drawn on it, resembling a spinning wheel, but not quite.

I thought to myself, "Could this old man be going crazy from all the pressure?"