Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

Chapter 284 Technological Development

It was the ninth day of the first month of the third year of the Qiming era. The festive atmosphere of the New Year in Chang'an City had not yet dissipated. Firecracker debris piled up in the streets and alleys, only to be swept away into heaps. Children were still chasing and playing, but the court assembly in the Taiji Hall had already returned to its usual rhythm.

The topic of this day's court assembly was unusual.

Chen Xing sat upright on his throne, his gaze sweeping over the assembled officials in the hall, and slowly began to speak: "Last year, all the nations came to pay tribute, as you all witnessed. The glassware of Fulin, the rose water of Arabia, the Buddhist scriptures of India, the Ferghana horses… Some of those things we cannot make, and some we can make but not as well as they are. I am pondering a question—"

He paused.

"On what grounds?"

The hall fell silent for a moment.

"Why can the Fulin people make transparent glass, while we can only make cloudy glass?" He pointed to the glass lamp in the hall, a tribute from Fulin. "Why can the rose water of the Abbasid Caliphate smell for miles, while our sachets can't even last a quarter of an hour? Why can the Indians calculate the trajectories of the planets, while our Imperial Observatory is still using the old calendar from the previous dynasty?"

He stood up, stepped down from the throne, and walked slowly along the steps.

"I am not trying to belittle ourselves. What I am trying to say is that in the pursuit of knowledge, one either progresses or regresses. In the heyday of the previous dynasty, our craftsmen could build large ships that could cross the sea, our mathematicians could calculate solar and lunar eclipses, and our physicians could write the 'Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Pieces of Gold.' But these decades of war have caused us to lose too much and fall far behind."

He stopped and looked at the assembled officials.

"Therefore, I have decided that, starting this year, the court will devote great effort to one thing—revitalizing crafts and encouraging innovation. I have already ordered a draft of the regulations, which I will present to you all for discussion and approval today."

Jia Wen stepped forward, unfurled a thick memorial, and read it aloud:

"The New System of the Directorate of Works and the Strategy for the Revitalization of Arts and Crafts Throughout the Land".

A slight commotion arose in the hall.

The Directorate of Works (Jiangzuojian) was an institution that existed in the previous dynasty. It was in charge of civil engineering projects such as palaces, ancestral temples, and mausoleums, and also oversaw the manufacture of some machinery. However, in the middle and later period of the previous dynasty, the Directorate of Works gradually declined, craftsmen fled, and skills were lost. By the beginning of this dynasty, it had become virtually non-existent.

Jia Wen continued reading:

"Firstly, the Directorate of Works was expanded. The Directorate of Works was independent of the Ministry of Works, with one Director and two Deputy Directors, and six subordinate departments: the Agricultural Implements Department, the Military Industry Department, the Weaving Department, the Boat and Cart Department, the Construction Department, and the Institute of Natural Sciences. Each department had a Director, Assistant Director, Supervisors, and a number of craftsmen. The required expenses were shared equally between the Imperial Household Department and the Ministry of Revenue, with the remaining 40% covered by the department's own revenue."

"Secondly, we will recruit artisans from all over the country. Anyone with a skill, regardless of their background, place of origin, or whether they are Han or non-Han, can take the examination at the Directorate of Works. Those who pass the examination will be granted the titles of 'Craftsman of the Directorate of Works' or 'Master Craftsman of the Directorate of Works' and enjoy the treatment of an official. Their families can move to Chang'an with them, and the court will allocate them housing and school land."

"Thirdly, an 'Academy for the Investigation of Things' was established to specialize in astronomy, calendar systems, mathematics, physics, chemistry, and other 'sciences of the investigation of things.' The Academy selected bright young men from various departments to study there. The course of study lasted three years. Those who passed the examination upon completion of the course could stay at the Academy for research or be assigned to various departments. The Academy was headed by a Chancellor, who was a learned scholar well-versed in the sciences of the investigation of things. The first Chancellor was..."

Jia Wen paused, then looked up at the throne.

"His Majesty will temporarily assume the role of the first Chancellor."

An uproar erupted in the hall.

The emperor concurrently serving as the chief priest of an academy? This had never happened in previous dynasties.

Chen Xing raised his hand, stopping the crowd's discussion.

"I am appointing this position of Grand Master of Ceremonies not because I know more than others, but because I want the world to know that the study of things deserves the highest regard from the court. When a suitable candidate is found in the future, I will naturally relinquish the position."

His gaze swept across the hall, and his tone turned somber:

"You may think that these things are just clever tricks and have nothing to do with the fundamentals of governing a country. But I tell you—improved agricultural tools allow a household to cultivate ten more acres of land with a new plow; military innovation allows a city to be defended for three more months with a new cannon; and advancements in weaving allow a weaver to earn an extra string of cash with a new bolt of silk. Little by little, like grains of sand forming a tower, this is the foundation of national strength."

"What I want is not some strange and ingenious tricks. What I want is for every seed to produce a few more liters of grain, for every piece of iron to make a few more tools, and for every bolt of cloth to sell for a few more coins."

The hall was silent.

After a long silence, the Minister of Revenue stepped forward first: "Your Majesty is wise. I second that proposal."

The Minister of War followed suit, saying, "I second that suggestion."

The Minister of Works was so excited that his beard trembled: "Your Majesty, I... Your Majesty, I wish to send all the most capable craftsmen of the Ministry of Works to the Directorate of Works for Your Majesty's command!"

After the court assembly ended, the establishment of the Imperial Workshop proceeded at an astonishing pace.

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the Lantern Festival, Chang'an City was ablaze with lights. But in a secluded courtyard in the northeast corner of the city, a group of people were gathered around a huge blueprint, arguing in hushed tones.

This is the newly established Academy of Natural Sciences—temporarily borrowed from an abandoned Taoist temple from the previous dynasty. The courtyard is not large, but it is well-maintained. The main hall has been converted into a lecture hall, the east and west side halls are library rooms and research rooms, and there are several small houses in the backyard where a few "extraordinary people" summoned from various places live.

The leader was an elderly man with gray hair and beard, surnamed Du, named Chun. He was originally an old blacksmith from Longyou. Because his family's rubbing method of steelmaking had been lost for many years, he spent thirty years figuring it out on his own and finally restored it to about 70-80% of its original form. Last year, the local officials reported his deeds to the imperial court, and Chen Xing specially summoned him to the capital and granted him the title of "Master of Works".

At that moment, Du Chun was pointing to a structure on the blueprints and saying to a few young people:

"This curved plow was reconstructed by me based on fragments left from the previous dynasty. But there's a problem—the angle of the plowshare is incorrect, resulting in shallow tilling. Can you calculate how to adjust this angle?"

Several young men were engrossed in calculations. Some were top students in mathematics at the Imperial Academy, some were scions of carpenter families from Jiangnan, and one was a "slave" bought from Arab merchants—a young man named Ibrahim, who was said to have studied architecture in his hometown but was sold into slavery due to war. He wandered to Guangzhou, where he was redeemed by officials of the Maritime Trade Office and sent to Chang'an.

Ibrahim's Chinese was still quite broken, but his mathematical skills were excellent. He drew some lines on the ground with a charcoal pencil, then looked up and said in broken Chinese:

"The angle... should be increased by seven degrees. But the material for the plowshare needs to be harder iron. The current one will bend."

Du Chun's eyes lit up: "How did you know?"

Ibrahim pointed to the blueprints: "When I was in my hometown, I saw the Roman plow. Their plowshares were made of steel."

"Steel?" Du Chun was stunned. "You mean, turning iron into steel?"

Ibrahim nodded.

Du Chun remained silent for a moment, then suddenly stood up, pulled Ibrahim along, and walked outside.

"Come, to my workshop. Tell me how the Romans made steel."

The Military Industry Bureau is making faster progress than the Institute of Physics.

The head of the department was named Han Huang. He was originally a military craftsman from the north who had fought alongside Chen Xing for many years and was in charge of manufacturing siege equipment. After taking over the military industry department, his first task was to gather the best blacksmiths, carpenters, and leatherworkers from all over the country and have them take out the "Complete Essentials of Military Classics" left by the previous dynasty and study it page by page.

"Can this be modified?" he asked the craftsmen around him, pointing to a picture of a "cannon" in the book.

An old blacksmith shook his head: "This is an old thing from the previous dynasty. It's too bulky and has a short range. In battle, the enemy cavalry would charge in before the cannon was even loaded."

Han Huang frowned.

Another young craftsman suddenly spoke up: "Lord Director, I have an idea."

Han Huang looked up at him. He was a young man in his early twenties, surnamed Qian, named Tong. He was from Jiangnan and his ancestors had built ships. He had been exposed to mechanical structures since childhood and had a great talent for them.

"explain."

Qian Tong pointed to the artillery design: "This thing uses manpower to pull the bowstring, which is too slow. Could we change it to... use a counterweight? Like, hang a heavy object on it, and when you let go, the weight falls down and throws the stone out?"

Han Huang was stunned.

He had worked as a military craftsman for twenty years and had never thought of this before.

"How heavy should the counterweight be?"

Qian Tong scratched his head: "This... needs to be calculated. Different stones, different distances, the counterweight should be different. I can try it slowly."

Han Huang looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Good lad. I'll give you three months. If you can't pass the test, you'll have to collect your punishment yourself. If you do pass, I'll personally recommend him to His Majesty for credit."

Meanwhile, things were even busier at the Agricultural Equipment Administration.

Shu Zheng was an old farmer in his fifties, surnamed Niu, without a formal name; everyone called him "Old Niu." He had spent his entire life farming in the north and knew the ins and outs of plows, harrows, hoes, and sickles like the back of his hand.

"This curved-shaft plow," he pointed to the sample plow that had just been delivered, "is easier to use than the straight-shaft plow. It turns more nimbly and saves animal power. But there's still a problem—the plowshare is too thin, and it's prone to breaking when it hits hard ground."

The surrounding craftsmen gathered around to examine it closely.

A young craftsman said, "Then let's make it thicker?"

Old Niu shook his head: "It's too thick, too heavy, the ox can't pull it."

Another craftsman said, "Then let's replace it with better iron?"

Niu Laonian still shook his head: "Good iron is expensive; ordinary farmers can't afford it."

Everyone fell silent.

Old Niu squatted on the ground, staring at the plowshare, smoked a pipe, and suddenly said:

"It needs to be reshaped. Not thickened, but so that when it's under stress, it can distribute the force. Like... like the arch of a bridge, arched things are the strongest."

He looked up at the young people who had been transferred from the Academy of Natural Sciences.

"Could you guys help me calculate what the ideal arc diameter should be?"

---

The weaving bureau was located in an abandoned dye house in the west of the city. The head of the bureau was surnamed Wei, a woman in her forties. It is said that she was the best weaver in Sichuan when she was young. Later, she followed the army north and taught hundreds of apprentices in the north.

At this moment, she was fretting over the two bolts of silk.

One piece was a tribute item transported from Jiangnan, woven by local weavers on traditional looms, with fine texture and a smooth feel. The other was a "sample" bought from a merchant from the Arab world, supposedly woven in India using a weaving technique she had never seen before.

"Feel it," she said, letting her apprentices take turns touching the Indian silk. "Isn't it thinner than ours? Isn't it more sheer than ours? Isn't it...softer than ours?"

The apprentices nodded repeatedly.

"Then take another look, how was this pattern woven?"

The apprentices crowded around to take a closer look, but no one spoke for a long time.

A young woman suddenly said, "Master, this pattern... it doesn't look woven in, it looks printed on?"

Wei's eyes lit up: "A seal?"

The girl nodded: "Look at the edges, they're a bit blurry, not as clear as a woven pattern. I guess the pattern was first carved onto a wooden board, then painted, and finally printed onto the fabric."

Lady Wei was stunned for a long time, then suddenly slammed her hand on the table and stood up.

"Okay! Find me a plank of wood, let's give it a try!"

The Boat and Cart Administration was located in an old shipyard in the southeast of the city. The head of the administration was surnamed Meng, who was originally a shipbuilder under Shen Qing and had participated in the construction of multi-story ships. After taking over the Boat and Cart Administration, the first thing he did was to dig out the blueprints for building multi-story ships from back then and review them one by one.

"This ship," he said, pointing to the enormous multi-storied warship in the drawing, "could it be built even bigger?"

The surrounding craftsmen looked at each other in bewilderment.

An old shipwright said, "Sir, this ship is already big enough. Any bigger and the keel won't be able to support it."

Meng Shuzheng nodded and then asked, "Can it be made even faster?"

Another craftsman said, "To go faster, we need to add sails. To add sails, we need to add masts. To add masts, we need to change the ship's shape. And if we change the ship's shape, we can't be sure how stable it will be."

After a moment of silence, Meng Shuzheng suddenly asked, "Have you ever heard of a 'watertight compartment'?"

The crowd shook their heads.

Meng Shuzheng pointed to the blueprints: "It's about dividing the bottom of the ship into small compartments, each separated by wooden planks. If one compartment leaks, the others can still hold up, and the ship won't sink. This was invented by our ancestors, but it was lost in the later period of the previous dynasty. Last year, I was going through old archives and found a few fragments of the blueprints..."

Before he could finish speaking, a young craftsman rushed to the blueprints, his eyes shining.

"Lord Director, may I take a look at this picture?"

In a side room in the backyard of the Gewu Academy, Ibrahim sat by the window, staring blankly at the darkening sky outside.

In front of him lay a copy of "Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art," which Du Chun had lent him. He had been studying it for half a month and could understand most of it, but there were still some parts he didn't understand.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Du Chun pushed the door open and came in, carrying a bowl of hot soup.

"Have some soup to warm yourself up."

Ibrahim took the soup and said in broken Chinese, "Thank you... Master."

Du Chun sat down next to him, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "Do you miss home?"

Ibrahim paused, lowered his head, and remained silent.

Du Chun didn't press further, but simply pointed out the window: "Do you see those lights?"

Ibrahim followed his gaze. In the distance, the lights of countless homes in Chang'an were lighting up one after another, twinkling like stars, stretching to the horizon.

"Those lights," Du Chun said, "behind each one is a family. Those families used to have a very hard life. Now it's a little better, but not good enough."

He paused, then turned to look at Ibrahim.

"You've come from so far away, endured so much hardship and suffering. I won't ask about your past; I only ask you—would you be willing to stay and help us finish building these things?"

Ibrahim looked at the steaming soup, at the sea of ​​lights outside the window, and at the old blacksmith beside him with gray hair and a wrinkled face.

After a long silence, he nodded.

"I do."

The 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month is the Little New Year.

Chen Xing did not stay in the palace, but instead left the palace incognito and came to a secluded courtyard in the northeast of the city—the Gewu Academy.

Du Chun showed him the improvements to the curved plow, the model of the counterweight cannon, the textile machine that was being tested, and the blueprints for the watertight compartment. Finally, they came to the side room in the backyard, where Ibrahim was hunched over a table, drawing something on paper with a charcoal pencil.

Chen Xing stood at the door for a while, but did not go in.

"How's this kid doing in his studies?" he asked Du Chun.

Du Chun nodded, his eyes filled with rare admiration: "Smart. You learn faster than those old guys who have been studying for decades. I tried that steelmaking method he mentioned for three months and finally figured it out. Next year, our plowshares will be able to use better iron."

Chen Xing stared at the figure bent over the desk, writing furiously, and remained silent for a long time.

"Treat him well," he said. "When he wants to go back someday, tell me, and I'll send someone to escort him. If he wants to stay..."

He didn't finish speaking; he simply patted Du Chun on the shoulder and turned to leave.

In the darkness of night, the lights of the Imperial Academy of Sciences blended with the myriad lights of Chang'an City in the distance, flickering and stretching endlessly.