The Industrial District and the Firepower Military Academy (9)
**LINE 1:** CHAPTER_TITLE: The Industrial Complex and the Firepower Military Academy (9)
__LINE 2:__
As the crimson sunset painted the sky in breathtaking hues.
Having completed the tour of the Second Steel Mill and the Multi-Purpose Production Complex on Ganghwa Island, Yeon followed Yi I up the gentle slope.
At the summit stood a pavilion hastily constructed around a towering steel-pipe pillar.
“How splendid!”
Its vivid, freshly lacquered beams lent it an almost ethereal beauty.
Yeon climbed the steps and settled into the cushioned seat. Jeong Da-nyeom and Yi I took their places opposite him.
Admiring the sunset reflected on the sea, Jeong Da-nyeom spoke first with open delight.
“Truly, Your Majesty, the scenery here is unparalleled.”
“Indeed it is.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Yet what are those figures doing across the water?”
The far-off island, ten ri away, was hazy in the evening light. Still, strange mounds and piles dotted its shores.
“We are turning the tidal flats into farmland.”
“Like this place?”
“Precisely.”
Most surrounding islands were nothing but tidal flats. Gyodongdo, designated a free-trade zone, held even more of the barren land than dry ground.
Yeon had sent the slaves he continuously purchased from his second older brother here, intending to reclaim the soil.
The ground was too salty for immediate use, yet he hoped to find laborers among the rebellious slaves for the reclamation project.
Word had spread. Fewer now grumbled and delayed when ordered. The rumors of productivity had begun to change behavior.
After discussing the tour, Yeon turned to Jeong Da-nyeom.
“Now then, how do you feel about it?”
“If the Ming army charges in droves, Your Majesty, there will be no cause for alarm.”
Some ministers worried over the king’s orders to mine coal in Liaodong. The law was being broken, they feared, and diplomatic trouble could follow.
Jeong Da-nyeom was among them.
Yet he could not voice his doubts.
Yeon had already explained the necessity to State Councillor Sim Tong-won.
After viewing the facilities, every worry vanished.
It felt so true that the king’s boast of “one hundred warriors” rang with real power.
Jeong Da-nyeom hesitated, unsure what to ask next, when Kim Ji entered the pavilion carrying a dark, heavy object.
“Your Majesty, this is the newly crafted nineteen-geum ruler.”
“Let me see.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Yeon examined the vernier caliper Kim Ji handed over. The body was entirely black, etched with white hairlines and numbers that gleamed against the brass. It moved with surprising smoothness.
“The temperature deviation is indeed far less than with the brass model?”
“Correct, Your Majesty. After repeated measurements at dawn and midday, the black-wood version showed an error less than half that of brass.”
Yeon recalled the necessity of precise measuring tools for sub-millimeter work. Without a lathe, the nineteen-geum ruler had been his solution.
He had explained the principle to Yi I during lessons and had him craft one.
Divide the body’s nineteen one-millimeter marks into ten, etch the vernier on the sliding part, and the scale measured to 0.1 mm.
He named it after that precision—the nineteen-geum ruler—easy for students to remember.
He had wished for thirty-nine marks to reach 0.05 mm, but the available machinery could not yet achieve it.
Yi I grasped the principle instantly.
The single-millimeter gap on the body corresponded to the number of divisions on the sliding section, allowing finer measurements.
He also understood why black wood resisted thermal expansion better than brass.
Thanks to that, they now produced uniform, precise steel rods and tools down to 0.1 mm.
Yeon passed the ruler back, praising Kim Ji.
“Well done. You have my thanks for your effort.”
“Not at all, Your Majesty. It was all thanks to the insight of Head of the Construction Bureau.”
“Even so, you are the one who made it.”
“True, but without the artisans of the Construction Bureau, it could never have been crafted so precisely.”
Yeon smiled, satisfied. He had never expected such loyalty from Kim Ji, who never claimed credit.
How wonderful it would be if there were more like him…
He had worked hard to isolate the court from factional strife. Many loyal ministers still practiced Confucian thought correctly.
Yet he knew the day would come when loyalty would fracture.
Human hearts were unpredictable and ever-changing.
Therefore, at every Great Council meeting, he reminded them.
If anyone serves the state and its people no longer, but only the organization, I will not tolerate them.
His ministers had not understood at first.
So when disputes arose between offices, the offending parties were quietly dispatched to the coal mines they developed across the land.
Ten days underground was the “punishment.”
After that, the grumbling ministers vanished.
Those who returned spoke of the experience with awe.
Yeon turned to Yi I and asked.
“Then when will the steam engine be completed?”
“The small model worked well, but the large one has proved more troublesome than expected.”
“What troubles?”
“The greatest issue is steam leaking from the piston rings.”
“You said piston rings would solve it.”
“That is the very problem, Your Majesty. The steel rings we have made break after only a little use. They cannot be replaced by nodular cast iron either. It lacks the necessary flexibility.”p>
“I see.”
Yeon had not foreseen this.
The larger the piston, the heavier it becomes, crushing the rings… yet steel should not deform so easily.
Then Stephen’s words returned to him.
When forging turbine blades from steel, he had warned that at high temperatures and pressures, steel’s thermal expansion coefficient rose sharply, weakening it.
Conversely, nodular cast iron held its strength better under heat and pressure, but machining remained difficult.
Consequently, they had scaled the steam turbine down by half.
Lower pressure meant lower rotational speed.
Stephen’s channel insisted on realism. All alloy steels were unavailable; building blast furnaces or Bessemer converters was impossible in a YouTube studio.
Yeon finished his thoughts. Yi I spoke at once.
“As a result, the steel piston rings have deformed, cracked, or shattered under the hot, high-pressure steam.”
“So you are waiting for the steel blast furnace?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Once completed, we may add manganese silicate as you suggested. A tough alloy steel will follow.”
He used the term he knew from the Construction Bureau. Manganese silicate sounded more technical, yet leaked information could be used immediately.
Thanks to the energetic workers roaming the land, they had already found various ores.
Though scarce, flotation and centrifugal separation yielded nickel, molybdenum, tungsten—and even chromium.
They were not abundant, so they were saved for research.
Instead, large quantities of manganese silicate available across the land would be used to forge manganese alloy steel for the blast furnace.
Its durability, heat resistance, and wear resistance made it ideal.
Yi I, however, seemed to have another plan for the piston rings.
He is truly remarkable.
Yeon felt admiration every time.
Yi I’s mind had no boundaries.
“A pity,” Yeon said, “we must wait until the steel blast furnace is ready.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
Yi I lowered his head in dejection.
He had believed he could build the engine at once upon hearing its principle from the king.
Its simplicity rivaled the water-wheel yet defied scaling.
Each enlargement brought new, larger problems.
His early confidence had not yielded the expected results.
Yeon prepared the encouraging words he had planned.
“I have thought of a better gun than the multi-purpose one. Would you like to hear it?”
“What…?”
“I also have a multi-shot pistol designed to be carried at the waist.”
“A… what?!”
“And I have discovered a way to make an explosive stronger than black powder using the peanuts growing in the fields. It produces less smoke.”
“Is this true, Your Majesty?!”
Yi I’s eyes bulged.
Kim Ji’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jeong Da-nyeom looked bewildered, unable to follow the conversation.
“Before we continue, let us eat.”
“Ahh…”
A magnificent dinner spread with abundant seafood awaited.
Yeon and Jeong Da-nyeom finished quickly, their eyes urging haste.
After a satisfying meal, Yeon explained the next steps to Yi I and Kim Ji as if lecturing.
Yi I’s and Kim Ji’s exclamations of wonder spread across the hill like ripples.
Jeong Da-nyeom, listening from the side, blinked in stunned silence like a fish with a mouthful of honey.
* *
Darkness fell over Iron Ridge.
Li Chengliang arrived at the lodging where Hwang Yun-gil and Kim Seong-il were staying, accompanied by one Joseon-born steward.
Hwang Yun-gil welcomed him with a bright smile.
“Welcome, General of the Total Garrison. I am Hwang Yun-gil, Jeonglang of the Ministry of Rites.”
Kim Seong-il, however, remained silent, merely lowering his head.
At thirty-five, he had made no secret of his impatience.
Yeon knew why.
When stories of the Imjin War arose, Kim Seong-il never missed a chance to speak.
Yet Yeon had chosen him for this mission.
Li Chengliang’s true intentions mattered more than his quarrelsome temperament or lies about the war.
Li Chengliang knew that Joseonites and Jurchens in Liaodong were mining and sending coal to Joseon.
Still, no one reported it.
So Yeon had placed Kim Seong-il, who boldly remonstrated and impeached in the king’s name, calling himself “the tiger of the court,” to observe the “tiger of Liaodong.”
Li Chengliang glared once at Kim Seong-il, then performed the proper ceremony of farewell with Hwang Yun-gil.
“I am Li Chengliang, General of Liaodong. My apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“Not at all. Please, sit. General.”
Li Chengliang took the honored seat and spoke at once.
“I do not know what that dark object is, nor do I wish to know. Nor do I wish to interfere. Therefore, please take your leave. I will convey your gifts with thanks.”
“What…?”
“Then I will take my leave now.”
As Li Chengliang rose, Kim Seong-il shouted.
“Wait!”
Startled, the Joseon steward reached for his sword.
Li Chengliang raised a hand to stop him.
“Do you have something to say to me?”
“What do you mean? You are called the king of Liaodong, but I am a messenger sent by the king of Joseon!”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Hah! A fool who knows nothing. How dare you!”
“What did you say?!”
“Do not presume. You know nothing.”
With that, Li Chengliang turned and strode out, unwilling even to linger.
Hwang Yun-gil watched with a hidden smile.
He has succeeded…
* *