Chief Armaments Master of the Ming Dynasty

This was a problem Lin Fan had anticipated.

Although the various peasant armies were all "rebels," their relationships were complex. There were times when they united against the government, and times when they swallowed up and fought each other.

Li Zicheng asked this question both to gather intelligence and to assess Lin Fan's "value"—

Someone who can bring manpower and supplies out of the royal territory should know more about the internal situation there than ordinary soldiers.

Lin Fan recounted the situation as objectively as possible, based on what he knew:

Wang Ziyong's troops were trapped in Huanglong Mountain, plagued by internal strife and low morale; their defeat was only a matter of time.

Although Wang Jiayin's army was large and numbered in the tens of thousands, it was also divided into factions, and Wang Jiayin himself was suspicious and did not fully trust his subordinates.

While the various departments nominally respected Wang Jiayin as their leader, they actually governed independently and no one could control the others.

"What about the government troops?" Gu Jun'en asked. "How much do you know about Du Wenhuan's troop deployment?"

"Not much," Lin Fan replied truthfully. "I only know that Du Wenhuan mobilized local militia from surrounding counties to conduct a sweeping crackdown on Huanglong Mountain. I don't know the specific troop strength or deployment. But one thing is certain—the government troops' target is not just Wang Ziyong, but all the 'bandits' in northern Shaanxi. After Huanglong Mountain is over, the next target might be you."

These words were spoken bluntly, and the tent fell silent for a moment.

Liu Zongmin's face was gloomy, Gu Jun'en's brows were furrowed, but Li Zicheng remained calm, only his eyes were more intense.

"I understand," Li Zicheng said, ending the conversation.

He stood up, walked to the tent entrance, and looked out at the bustling camp.

"Master Lin, you should go back and rest first. I'll have someone arrange the rest. As for the weapons, think about what you need and make a list for me."

"Yes." Lin Fan stood up, preparing to leave.

As he reached the tent entrance, Li Zicheng suddenly called out to him again.

"Lin Fan".

Lin Fan stopped and turned around.

Li Zicheng did not turn around; his back was to him. His voice was not loud, but every word was clear:

"I saved your life at Yinchuan Post Station. Today you've come to join me, which is your way of repaying that debt. From now on, we're brothers fighting side by side. I, Li Zicheng, will not mistreat my brothers, but I also don't like people hiding their abilities. As long as you use your skills properly, I'll guarantee your safety."

He paused, then added, "But don't go too far. Some things, if taken too far, will bring trouble."

Lin Fan felt a chill run down his spine.

He knew what Li Zicheng was talking about.

Gunpowder, explosions, those "things that make noise".

In this era, firearms were not taboo, but the fact that an unknown vagrant could easily manufacture powerful gunpowder products would certainly raise suspicion.

Li Zicheng was warning him, but also protecting him.

"Understood," Lin Fan said in a low voice. "Don't worry, General, I know what I'm doing."

He stepped outside the tent, the morning light blinding him.

The soldiers in the camp had already begun their busy day—some were feeding the horses, some were repairing vehicles, some were distributing food, and some were cleaning their weapons.

Everything looked rough and simple, yet it was filled with a kind of vibrant and life-giving order.

Han Jinhu ran over from the shack, his face beaming with excitement: "Brother Lin! A leader just said we should settle in at the blacksmith's shop in the camp, and he even assigned us a few laborers! General Li really wants to make good use of us!"

Lin Fan nodded without saying anything more.

He knew that being given an important position was a good thing, but also a test.

In this chaotic world where lives are lived on the edge, no one can rest easy relying solely on their "skills".

He needs to create good weapons, prove his worth, and find truly trustworthy allies and see through potential enemies in this complex and chaotic "storming" camp.

All of this requires time, and even more so, wisdom.

He looked up at the distant mountain peaks.

The morning mist had dissipated, revealing the gray-yellow, barren mountain ridges, like huge scars etched on this land that had suffered so much.

The wind blew in from the north, carrying a deeper chill and a faint, rusty, bloody stench.

That's the smell of war.

And he was already standing at the center of the storm.

---

In the days that followed, Lin Fan practically lived in the blacksmith's shop.

The so-called "stove" was actually just a few simple stoves made of stones and clay built on the edge of the camp, with a thatched shed on top to keep out the rain, but it was drafty from all sides.

In winter, the cold wind can freeze you solid; but when the stove is lit, it's as hot as a steamer.

Alternating between hot and cold temperatures is the most agonizing thing.

Lin Fan didn't care.

What he cares about is the temperature in the furnace, the stretching of the iron under forging, and the hissing white steam during quenching.

Han Jinhu was his right-hand man.

The blacksmith in this Yanchang County has a solid foundation in craftsmanship and is also a reliable and hardworking person.

More importantly, he not only did not reject Lin Fan's "traditional methods," but also learned them with great seriousness.

"Brother Lin, why can't the water for quenching be too cold? When I was working in a shop in the county, the master craftsmen all said that the colder the water, the better, because it would make the knife harder."

Han Jinhu asked, puzzled, as he worked the bellows.

Lin Fan was using pliers to hold a piece of red-hot iron, preparing to forge it.

"If the water is too cold, the temperature difference during quenching will be too great. The outer layer of the blade will cool down immediately while the inside remains hot, making it prone to cracking. This is especially true for thin blades, which will chip easily during quenching. Warm water has a smaller temperature difference, so although the hardness of the quenched blade will be slightly lower, it will have better toughness and will not break easily."

"Our current iron material is not pure to begin with, it has a lot of impurities. If it cracks during quenching, then all our work will have been for nothing."

Han Jinhu suddenly realized: "So that's how it is! No wonder sometimes after quenching the knife in the shop, it would break as soon as I tapped it. The master craftsman would scold me for using bad iron. It turns out the water was too cold!"

"Not entirely." Lin Fan placed the red-hot iron on the anvil, swung the hammer, and rhythmically forged it. "The poor quality of the iron is the main reason, but improper quenching also adds to the problem. With both factors combined, it's no wonder it broke."

The clanging sound of hammers echoed at the edge of the camp.

The few laborers assigned to help out were all young soldiers in the camp. Some were deserters from the border army, some were farmers who couldn't make a living, and some were children of artisans who had nowhere else to turn.

They were strong, but their skills were lacking, so Lin Fan started by teaching them the most basic things—

How to judge the heat, how to control the bellows, and how to forge the iron into the required shape.

These young people learned very quickly, firstly because Lin Fan taught them carefully, and secondly because they knew that the weapons they created were to be used on themselves and their brothers.

Nobody wants to go to the battlefield with a broken knife that will chip and break with the first strike.

Lao Geng and Shuanzhu were also busy.

They were assigned to the camp's scout team, responsible for outings and guard duties.