Two hundred Chassepot riflemen moved swiftly across the sandy riverbank, boots sinking slightly into the loose ground as they formed up in neat, disciplined ranks, their movements practiced and smooth, without shouting or disorder.
Li Daoxuan had placed the blueprints for the Chassepot Rifle into the diorama box back in the seventh year of Tianqi, in 1627. Now, it was already the height of summer in the fourth year of Chongzhen, 1631. Five full years had passed.
Back then, Li Daoxuan had estimated that producing this kind of rifle would take no more than one or two years at most. Reality, however, had been far less forgiving. It had taken a full five years before this weapon could finally stand here, solid and real, on the battlefield.
Springs that needed just the right elasticity, percussion caps that had to ignite reliably every time, airtight sealing at the breech so precious force would not leak away. Each problem was intricate, stubborn, and unforgiving. Li Daoxuan had not stepped in directly. Instead, he had nudged, hinted, guided from the shadows, allowing the little people to struggle, fail, rethink, and finally solve each issue with their own hands, one painstaking step after another.
Now, seeing these soldiers lined up before him, rifles steady and expressions firm, Dao Xuan Tianzun felt a quiet, private satisfaction rise in his heart.
Xing Honglang watched them for a moment, then could not help asking, "How fast can one of these fire now?"
A rifleman captain stepped forward, boots striking the sand sharply as he saluted. "Reporting, ma'am. One shot every ten blinks of an eye."
Xing Honglang tilted her head, curiosity plain on her face. "And just how long is 'ten blinks of an eye' supposed to be?"
Gao Chuwu grinned and said casually, "My dear wife, don't worry. I'll test it right now."
And with that, he actually began blinking in earnest.
Xing Honglang burst out laughing. "Oh, Chuwu, you're far too good to me."
"Honglang!" Gao Chuwu replied with exaggerated feeling.
With a soft, unceremonious thump, the two of them embraced right there.
Those standing nearby exchanged glances, faces filled with expressions that said everything and nothing at once.
Off to the side, Dao Xuan Tianzun shook his head faintly. "Fire a few rounds. Let everyone see."
Since the order had come directly from him, the soldiers answered in unison, voices crisp and loud. "As you command!"
Wooden targets were quickly set up and planted firmly in the sand, positioned two hundred paces away across the open riverbank.
The moment Xing Honglang saw the distance, her eyes lit up. "At that range, these must be rifled guns, right?"
Flat Rabbit laughed smugly, chin lifted. "Of course. Every Chassepot Rifle is rifled. Accuracy stays good even at several hundred paces. That said, hitting someone at that distance still depends on skill. These recruits are decent, but don't expect them to casually pick off enemy generals. Only this Flat Rabbit…"
He dragged out the last words with deep satisfaction.
Someone nearby could not help interrupting him. "Lord Flat Rabbit, is your marksmanship really that impressive?"
Flat Rabbit shook his head solemnly. "No. It's even worse than theirs."
Laughter erupted immediately.
"Then why did you say 'only this Flat Rabbit' just now?"
Flat Rabbit puffed out his chest, looking entirely pleased with himself. "Because this Flat Rabbit's real specialty is the sword, unlike all of you."
The laughter died at once.
Well. That explained everything.
The two hundred Chassepot riflemen had finished their preparations. The test firing was about to begin.
Li Daoxuan immediately shifted his perspective outside the box, fingers already poised, and readied his stopwatch.
"Fire!"
At Flat Rabbit's command, two hundred rifles roared at once.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
The sound crashed across the riverbank in a tight, thunderous wave. Almost the instant the last shot echoed, every soldier moved as one. Breeches snapped open at the rear of the rifles, ash and residue shaken free, fresh paper cartridges pulled from pouches and seated smoothly, breech covers closed and sealed with a sharp, decisive click.
Rifles rose again.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
A second volley tore through the air.
Li Daoxuan stopped the watch.
Exactly ten seconds.
A restrained thrill spread through him. Too fast. Far too fast. At this speed, six shots could be fired in a single minute.
Two hundred riflemen meant twelve hundred bullets in one minute.
In this era, such a rate of fire was nothing short of terrifying.
Against this, the nomadic tribes of the steppes might as well stop fighting altogether and go back to singing and dancing.
But then, a chill followed close behind that excitement.
Wait.
Not yet.
Firepower on this scale did not come without a price.
Twelve hundred rounds per minute also meant a crushing burden on logistics.
Li Daoxuan's resources were effectively limitless, but even he could only provide raw materials. Gunpowder and lead could be delivered, but finished bullets could not simply appear out of thin air. Firecracker powder had to be reworked and refined into proper granular black powder. Lead had to be melted down and recast into shot. Even the caps from toy snap-poppers needed careful modification before they could function as true percussion caps.
Paper had to be made. Each cap, each measure of powder, each lead bullet had to be wrapped by hand into a complete paper cartridge.
One minute of exhilarating gunfire at the front demanded countless hours of unseen labor behind it. This was not the industrial age. There were no machines endlessly stamping out ammunition.
Nearly every step depended on human hands.
"Stop!" Dao Xuan Tianzun called out sharply.
The two hundred riflemen halted at once. Yet in the span of only a few breaths, more than four hundred rounds had already been expended.
Li Daoxuan did not feel money burning away.
He felt people burning away.
The thought was genuinely painful.
"Ammunition goes frighteningly fast," Lao Nanfeng said quietly, having reached the same conclusion. "Flat Rabbit, how much do we actually carry?"
Flat Rabbit scratched his head and laughed awkwardly. "Not much. Only tens of thousands of rounds, I suppose. Making this stuff is a real headache. Right now, blacksmiths, powder makers, and papermakers are all tied up making cartridges. We've even hired many women from the village just to assemble bullets."
He paused, then sighed with faint regret. "Unfortunately, we can't let the women from the labor reform camp touch this work yet. Their reliability hasn't been proven, and we can't risk gunpowder passing through unsteady hands. Everyone involved in ammunition production has to be someone who's been tested over time. That limits output no matter how you look at it."
Lao Nanfeng nodded slowly. "That's unavoidable. This Chassepot Rifle is powerful, but it cannot be used carelessly. Otherwise, in the time it takes for two sticks of incense to burn, Gao Family Village could be reduced to nothing."
Zhao Sheng leaned in from the side. "And production cannot rely on Gao Family Village alone. We must also build an arsenal here at the Gudu Ferry in Yongji, so ammunition can be supplied closer to the front. Otherwise, long-distance transport will cripple us."
No one could argue with that.
A heavy, shared understanding settled over the group. The road ahead was long, and the burden immense.
Gao Family Village was strong, but the world beyond it was vast.
If they truly meant to pacify the realm and save the people, there was no room for carelessness.
"I'll return to Gao Family Village by boat," Zhao Sheng said decisively. "I'll bring back experienced senior artisans and establish a similar workshop here at the Gudu Ferry, with them as the core."
As he finished speaking, he gathered his robes and started to rush toward the boat.
Before he could take more than a step, two porters suddenly appeared, lifting him neatly into a sedan chair. "Sir, please don't run. You always forget that you lose your breath after a short dash. If you're traveling, let us carry you."
Zhao Sheng coughed lightly. "Ah. Then I'll trouble you."
The porters broke into a quick jog, sedan chair swaying slightly as they boarded the boat.
Xing Honglang clapped her hands together. "Alright. If the scholars handling logistics are pushing this hard, then we front-line fighters can't slack off either. Get ready for battle."
Flat Rabbit poked his head out. "By the way, who are we fighting this time?"
Gao Chuwu scratched his head. "A despicable bandit named Wang Guozhong. He betrayed Wang Jiayin and even managed to secure an official position." He then explained the circumstances of Wang Jiayin's death.
Flat Rabbit's eyes widened. "What? Wang Jiayin wasn't exactly a saint, but betraying someone like that…" He stopped abruptly.
He had nearly let something slip.
Wang Er's presence in Gao Family Village was an absolute secret, known only to a handful.
Flat Rabbit snorted. "Hmph. This Flat Rabbit will act on behalf of Heaven and personally execute a petty villain like Wang Guozhong."