The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

The blue brick floor of the craftsman's studio was stained black by charcoal ash. Twenty blacksmith furnaces were lined up along the east and west walls, ten each. In front of each furnace stood an iron anvil, with a metallic luster in the center of the concave area.

On the north wall hangs a huge "Regulations on Construction of the Ministry of Works", which is densely covered with red ink annotations. The most eye-catching part is the eight large characters "The way of ingenuity benefits the country and the people" written by Yi Huawei himself.

The gilded copper furnace with a beast head and a ring in the middle hall was spewing out red flames. The chief craftsman Ma Dequan stood in front of the demonstration furnace in the middle hall, and the sixth-grade egret patched robe on his body was shining because of the fire.

The craftsman, who was in his early forties, had half of his left ear missing, its outline obscured by the white hair at his temples, leaving only a dark red scar winding down to his jaw.

"Listen up!"

Ma Dequan knocked on the pinewood display board behind him, on which was nailed the "Nine-Rank Advancement Chart for Craftsmen": "From today on, you will be registered as official craftsmen."

"A ninth-rank craftsman, with an annual salary of sixty stones, is in charge of making tools for the people." The iron ruler pointed to the lowest column, where images of hoes and plowshares were drawn.

"Ninth rank, 80 shi, can participate in the construction of government offices."

Zhao Tieniu, who was sitting in the front row, suddenly straightened his back. He noticed that there was a picture of a musket in the middle of the chart. Ma Dequan's ruler stopped at this moment: "A seventh-rank craftsman, with an annual salary of 200 dan - this is the real future!"

There was an uproar in the room.

Zhou Mo suddenly raised his hand: "Master Supervisor, what skills are tested by the seventh-rank craftsman?"

Ma Dequan took out a brass object from under the table and pressed it on the table. Everyone looked closer and found that it was a delicate model of the firing mechanism of a musket.

"See the air-locking valve of this chamber?"

Ma Dequan dug his fingernails into the cracks of the mechanism. "The third version, which was modified by your majesty himself, uses 50% less gunpowder than the old one, and its range is increased by 30%. Last month, the Ministry of War tested it and found that it can penetrate three layers of armor from a hundred steps away."

The sound of swallowing saliva came from the back row. Wang Rui stared at the model, his fingers unconsciously tracing the shape on his knees.

"Want to learn this?"

Ma Dequan lifted the camphorwood box beside his feet onto the table. In the box were neatly stacked blue-covered books such as "Illustrated Explanation of Firearms" and "Essentials of Casting Cannons". Each cover was stamped with a red seal: "First, you must thoroughly read the third volume of "Zhaowu Construction Methods"!"

He pulled out a book, opened it, and pointed at the red mark on it: "See? His Majesty's imperial handwriting: 'The gun barrel should be twisted seven points per inch' - this is not a random guess!"

Zhao Tieniu suddenly stood up, his dark face flushed red: "Sir, my...my father has been a blacksmith for thirty years. Can...can he take the exam to become a master craftsman?"

Ma Dequan narrowed his eyes and smiled: "Does your father know how to calculate the chamber pressure? Does he know the proportion of the blast eye of the blast furnace?"

Seeing Zhao Tieniu shaking his head, Ma Dequan suddenly shook out a notice from his sleeve: "But His Majesty has opened an imperial examination!"

Everyone gathered around to see that it was the "Special Selection System for Craftsmen" newly issued by the Ministry of Industry:
"Any skilled craftsman in the community, recommended by the local government, can take the exam at a higher level. Those who excel can be granted official positions and exempted from military service..."

"I heard it all!"

Ma Dequan suddenly raised his voice: "Artisans above the sixth rank who do not kneel before an official can have one of their sons admitted to the Imperial Academy."

"I'll tell you another secret."

Ma Dequan looked around: "The Ministry of War is selecting people to test-build the 'Shenwei General Cannon'... Participants will be given a minimum of eighth rank!"

"Don't think about it now. The most important thing for you at this stage is to learn... I tell you this just to tell you that craftsmen will no longer be lowly. His Majesty has paved the way for you. As for how far you can go, it all depends on you!"

"quiet!"

Ma Dequan picked up a piece of red-hot iron with pliers in his right hand, and tapped the anvil three times with a hammer in his left hand. The sound of metal collision immediately drowned out all the noise.

"Today, we are forging a new type of plowshare. According to the design drawn by Your Majesty, we need to save 30% of the iron material, but increase its toughness by 30%."

He held up a pattern made of thin iron sheet, with the Ministry of Industry's seal on the edge. "Look carefully, the key is this arc ridge."

The apprentices held their breath.

"clang!"

Ma Dequan's hammer landed the first blow, sparks flew everywhere. The muscles in his right arm were knotted, and every tendon rolled under the shiny skin. After three blows, the iron material had taken shape.

"Everyone, get moving. Everyone, hand in one piece of work before noon!"

Suddenly, there was a intensive hammering sound in the room. Zhao Sanzi grabbed the hammer and started to smash it, but was stopped by Zhou Mo, who was measuring the iron material with a ruler at this moment: "Brother Zhao, according to the Zhaowu Construction Method, we should calculate the materials first..."

"What a bird!"

Zhao Sanzi wiped his sweat and said, "I have been working with my father for ten years..."

"So your father is still a craftsman."

Zhou Mo rolled his eyes: "Your Majesty opened the imperial examination to grant official positions to craftsmen, just to change this old rule. Your Majesty once said: 'A craftsman without calculations is like a general without strategies'..."

"Clang!"

Suddenly there was a strange noise from the north wall. The two turned around and saw Wang Rui holding a piece of twisted iron, his face pale. According to the old rules, wasting official materials would result in ten lashes. He trembled as he walked towards the demerit book at the door, only to find that the clerk on duty today was taking a nap.

"Why are you panicking?"

Ma Dequan appeared behind him without him noticing: "Your Majesty once said in the Ministry of Works: 'If a tool is forged a hundred times, why should we be afraid of a single failure?'"

As he spoke, he picked up the scraps and threw them back into the furnace: "Just refine them again."

When the noon bell rang, twenty pieces of plowshare blanks were already arranged on the tester table. Ma Dequan held a caliper in his hand - it was made according to the "new square" designed by Yi Huawei, and the scale on the copper ruler was accurate to the minute.

"Number 7, the arc ridge is off by half a centimeter."

"Geng number three, 28% of the material is saved, which is not enough."

When he saw Zhao Tieniu's blank, Ma Dequan suddenly exclaimed, "Huh?" The curvature of the plowshare was exactly the same as the imperial drawing, and there was an extra reinforcing rib on the back.

"Good boy!"

Ma Dequan patted Zhao Tieniu on the shoulder and said, "This is a great addition!"

Before he finished speaking, the door of the study suddenly opened. The Minister of Works led two runners in quickly, with the yellow silk in his hands shining like gold in the light of the fire.

"His Majesty's word!"

The assistant minister said in a loud voice: "The best person in the Carpenters' Studio today will be awarded the title of ninth-rank carpenter, with an annual salary of 60 shi!"

Zhao Tieniu knelt down with his forehead against the cold anvil. He could hear his heartbeat as loud as a drum, and vaguely remembered what his father often said: "We craftsmen will always be lowly..."

"Why don't you thank me?" Ma Dequan kicked him lightly on the buttocks, but his eyes were red first: "Remember, this is the Zhaowu Dynasty! His Majesty said, 'The talent of a good craftsman is no less than that of a scholar'!"

Outside the studio, the spring sun is bright and new willows are sprouting. The iron horses under the eaves of the studio jingle in the wind, and the sound is clear and melodious, just like the sound of chimes.

………………

The sand table room of Bingfazhai is located in the west wing of the Imperial Academy. The five-bay hard-roofed building is covered with dark blue tiles. The bronze door that was just unlocked at the hour of Mao is still covered with morning dew, and the gold-painted plaque "Jingwei Tiandi" on the lintel is gleaming in the spring sun.

When you push the door open, the fresh scent of pine wood mixed with the smell of sand brought by the Chaohe River hits you in the face - this is the fine sand collected from the twenty counties in northern Zhili, and transported by express horses by postmen on the fifth day of every month.

The three-meter-long Jizhen sand table is spread across the center, with double-layer oak boards laid on top. Each board is engraved with crisscrossing longitude and latitude lines, with spacing accurate to three inches of the construction ruler. The total length of the east-west sand table is nine feet and nine feet, and it is a scaled-down version of the Jizhen Border Defense Map during the Jiajing period, with each inch representing one mile in real terms.

The five-color soil layers are compacted in layers using real soil from Liaodong, Miyun chalk, Changping blue mud, etc. The pebbles on the Yongding Riverbed are as round as bird eggs, all polished by craftsmen from the Ministry of Industry using leftover Xiuyan jade, and they are gleaming in the morning light through the window. The most exquisite part is the Gubeikou Fortress, where glutinous rice mortar is mixed with pearl powder, and the brick seams of the battlement arrow tower are miniature in scale.

The base of the sandbox is an ironwood frame with copper-clad corners to prevent deformation. Twelve drawers are hidden at the bottom to store terrain modules.

The Yongding River section in the northwest corner of the sand table and the engineering department use the layered sand stacking method: the bottom layer is covered with coarse sand to simulate the riverbed, the middle layer is mixed with mica powder to represent the water flow, and the surface layer of wine lapis lazuli crushed does not show the water depth. The river bank slope is based on the "River Defense Overview" standard, a three-inch wide collapsed beach area is set on the water-facing side, and a reed model made of copper wire is planted on the back of the water.

Sun Yuanzhen, the right assistant minister of the Ministry of War, held a three-foot-long baton. This general in his early forties had an arrow scar more than an inch long on his left cheek, which twitched slightly when he spoke:

"The third report from the Tang newspaper: The cavalry of the Duoyan tribe appeared in Chaohe River."

He picked up a small flag with a black feather on it with three fingers of his right hand and stuck it firmly in the northwest corner of the sand table.

Student Chen Zhen stood up, and the wooden flag on his waist hit the edge of the sand table. This young man who grew up in the northern border had broad palms, and calluses on his palms from years of bow pulling:

"Your Excellency! Chaohechuan is only thirty miles away from Baimaguan Pass. I request that the left outpost of the Shenji Battalion be quickly dispatched to garrison!"

He unconsciously used military terms when speaking, and his finger was already on the Baimaquan model on the sand table.

A light "click" sound came from the other end of the sand table. Li Chun, who was promoted from mathematics, pushed his crystal lens, and his eyes narrowed into slits behind the lens: "If the Xuanfu soldiers are transferred to take this ancient road... they will arrive two days earlier than the Shenji Camp. However, the spring flood of Chaohe River is coming, and the grain carts need to add 30 boatmen to cross the flooded bridge, which is equivalent to consuming more than 400 dan of millet."

The students from the northern border exploded. Wang Jun, the son of Zhangjiakou Qianzong, slapped the sand table with his palm, shaking the Gubeikou tower slightly: "Sour scholars are ruining the country! How many lives of soldiers can be exchanged for 400 dan of grain?"

Zhou Wenqi, who came from the south, sneered and took out a copy of "New Compilation of Grain Transport" from his pocket: "Four hundred dan of grain is equivalent to... the transport capacity of eighty carts, which is enough for the border troops to eat for ten days!"

Sun Yuanzhen's scar twitched, and he suddenly inserted his baton into the sand table. The tip of the gilded baton pointed precisely at the upper reaches of the Chaohe River: "Look at this shoal."

With a flick of his wrist, he opened the secret compartment of the sand table, revealing the delicate hinge mechanism underneath. Three layers of camphor wood partitions slowly rose up, on which were placed miniature granaries, water wheels and even beacon tower models.

"This is the blueprint of the transfer warehouse drawn by His Majesty himself. It can store grain for three months without rotting, and save 30% of the guard force."

When the students got closer, they found that the granary model could actually be opened, with sesame-sized "grain bags" neatly stacked inside.

The copper ruler in Li Chun's hand suddenly fell to the ground with a clang. When he bent down to pick it up, he found that there were fine lines engraved on the bottom of the sand table - it turned out to be a complete set of grain transport waterway maps.

"This...is this a newly opened canal?"

“It was just completed last month.”

Sun Yuanzhen nodded: "According to your majesty's "Water and Land Transport Edict", it will be built directly to Gubeikou."

Suddenly, a dispute broke out in the southeast corner of the sand table. Two students were arguing over the spacing of beacon towers. One insisted on following the old system of every thirty miles, while the other held up the "New Regulations for Zhaowu Beacon Towers" and shouted that he wanted to change it to fifty miles.

"Shut up, everyone!"

Sun Yuanzhen suddenly drew out his sword and stabbed it into the center of the sand table with a clang: "…The border troops need flexibility!"

With his left hand, he lifted up the secret compartment at the bottom of the sand table, revealing neatly arranged models of musketeers. The models were only an inch high, but complete with gun barrels, medicine bags, and a small red dragon flag on the back.

As everyone leaned forward to take a closer look, the noon clappers could be heard from outside the window. Sun Yuanzhen put away his baton:
"We will continue at noon, and have dinner now."

…………

It’s noon.

Outside the dining hall, more than a thousand students lined up in nine long lines according to their nine subjects.

A black lacquered wooden sign hung on the lintel of the dining hall, on which the "Dietary Rules" were written in cinnabar: "One liter of rice, one plate of vegetables, and two ounces of meat every five days." A copper ring was nailed to the lower right corner of the wooden sign, and a fine iron ruler was hung in the ring.

The cook Zhao Sanniang stood in front of the elm chopping board, her knife rising and falling like the wind. She wore a copper bracelet on her left wrist, with the four small characters "made in the imperial kitchen" engraved on it. In the groove in the center of the chopping board was an iron sheet, the raised two-point mark on the iron sheet had been polished to a shine by years of knife marks. Every time she cut a piece of pickled meat, she would lift it up with the tip of the knife and look at it in the light: this was an old rule, the meat slices had to be thin enough to be transparent to be qualified.

"Class A of the Scriptures and Meanings Department!"

As the steward of the dining hall called out the names, the students in indigo robes stepped in. The leader, Wang Su, had ink stains on his nose, obviously having just put down his brush and rushed in. When he took the coarse pottery bowl, the bottom of the bowl was already filled with steaming glutinous rice - the rice grains were full, this was refined rice processed according to the new regulations of the "Zhaowu Grain Policy", and the yield rate was 30% higher than that of the old rice in previous years.

"Thank you, Madam San."

Wang Su tapped the edge of the bowl twice with his fingertips. "Sanniangzi" was a respectful name for the cook in the academy.

Glancing at him, Zhao Sanniang raised the corners of her mouth slightly, turned her wrist, and added an extra pickled cucumber to his plate.

When the math students came in, the atmosphere in the dining hall suddenly became lively. These students always liked to draw math diagrams on the table with chopsticks, and today's long fir table has left many Pythagorean traces. One person held the rice bowl but was not in a hurry to eat. Instead, he took out a copper compass from his sleeve and drew several concentric circles on the surface of the rice.

"And calculate the granary capacity?"

Li Wenxiu, who sat at the same table, curled her lips and said, "The kitchen just replaced the new rice bucket yesterday, and the capacity is half a cup more..."

The students from the Agricultural Policy Department came in last. The corners of their robes were still stained with dirt, and some of them were holding oil-paper bags in their hands.

Zhao Tiezhu, the farmer who dared to taste the soil, was spreading the red soil in his bag on the table for comparison. The people at the table were not surprised, and some even took out the book "Soil Quality Identification" that they brought with them to read.

"Today is the fifth day, add some meat!"

Zhao Sanniang's voice drowned out all the noise. She knocked the copper spoon in her hand twice on the meat basin, and twenty kitchen servants immediately lined up. In front of each person was a pear wood tray with pickled meat slices as thin as cicada wings, each slice was exactly two centimeters thick.

Wang Su was dipping the tip of his chopsticks into the gravy and reciting sentences from the Great Edict on Encouraging Agriculture on the table. Suddenly, he noticed a piece of tender green cabbage leaf under the meat slices—it was not a side dish as specified in the regulations. He looked up at the window where he could get food, and Zhao Sanniang was winking at him.

"Have you heard?"

The student of the craftsmanship department at the next table lowered his voice: "The Ministry of War is going to grant official titles to firearms craftsmen..."

Before he could finish his words, the bronze bell outside the dining hall suddenly rang. It was not the usual time-telling sound, but an emergency bell that rang nine long and six short. The doorman, Old Wu, stumbled in, his gray beard trembling:

"The Holy One has arrived!"

(End of this chapter)