Chapter Six: The True Test of the Firearm

From that moment on, Zhu Cilang and Fu Rugui could only laugh and cry at their discovery: it turned out that Li Jun was not a student of martial studies, but rather a scholar from the Shuntian Prefectural Academy. However, since childhood, Li Jun had suffered from a hidden ailment, making both study and socializing difficult, and after earning his degree, he became somewhat withdrawn. Ten years earlier, Li Jun’s father, Li Zijing, had died at the hands of the Jianzhou Jurchens while serving as an official at Dalin River in Liaodong, leaving Li Jun overwhelmed with grief and anger, his heart consumed by thoughts of avenging his father’s death. In the end, this drove Li Jun to develop an intense fascination with military weaponry, constantly imagining the creation of fierce arms with which the imperial troops could ruthlessly annihilate the Jurchens.

In recent years, Li Jun had discovered the Military Academy of the Capital Guards—a treasure trove for him—and became a frequent visitor. He cherished especially the works of Zhao Shizhen, idolizing this master of military invention. He had read through “The Compendium of Divine Weapons,” “The Sequel to the Compendium,” “Questions and Answers on Divine Weapons,” and “Treatise on Artillery and Tuntian Wagons” multiple times, never tiring of them. Lately, he had even taken to drawing twenty-four types of firearms diagrams by hand. He was thoroughly versed in devices such as the “Rocket Flow,” the “Electrostatic Musket,” the “Soaring Hawk Cannon,” and the Lumini Gun.

Having encountered such an extraordinary person, Zhu Cilang and Fu Rugui felt their visit well worthwhile, and they naturally began discussing the art and strategy of firearms. Fu Rugui only inquired briefly about Li Jun’s background, marveling at his brilliance. After asking a few questions about matchlock guns, to which Li Jun responded with ease, Fu Rugui simply listened quietly, sensing that Zhu Cilang had a purpose in mind.

As expected, once Li Jun finished speaking about himself, he invited Zhu Cilang to comment on the weapon diagrams. Zhu Cilang did not hesitate and went straight to the topic of the recently drawn Electrostatic Musket.

He unflinchingly pointed out its flaws.

“The ignition is not sealed; the projectile’s range is poor. How would you resolve this?”

“Though the detachable chamber is convenient and easily assembled, fabrication is difficult, especially as it requires master craftsmanship. If thousands of troops must each be equipped with one, how many years would it take? And how much cost would be incurred?”

As soon as Zhu Cilang finished writing each of the first two questions, Li Jun replied promptly.

“The lack of sealing is merely due to the detachable chamber and the musket being insufficiently refined—the workmanship is too crude. But this is not insurmountable.”

“As for cost, it depends on the chamber design. If the chamber can be redesigned to be more refined and simplified, I have a solution. It only requires master artisans to remake the spring mechanism.”

Zhu Cilang nodded slightly. Watching the composed yet increasingly pensive Li Jun, he wrote again, but this time, Li Jun’s previously swift hand suddenly froze.

“The advantage of the detachable chamber lies in the separation of cartridge and gun. Why, then, must the ignition system of the matchlock be incorporated into the chamber itself?”

Li Jun stood motionless after reading this, as if a bolt of insight had split his mind, and clarity dawned. With Zhu Cilang having pointed out the path, if Li Jun still failed to understand, all his years of study would have been in vain. The Electrostatic Musket’s ingenuity lay in the detachable chamber, a breech-loading gun with a magazine. Yet the firing mechanism was still that of the Lumini matchlock musket, making the chamber complex and costly—five times that of an ordinary Lumini gun.

But if the cartridge and gun were separated, with the detachable chamber serving only as the magazine and the ignition left to the main firearm, would this not preserve the musket’s advantages while solving the critical issues of high cost and poor sealing?

“Sir, your talent is extraordinary… you have resolved a puzzle that has stumped me for years…” Li Jun wrote, then bowed deeply. The thrill of a breakthrough filled him with irrepressible excitement.

Zhu Cilang hurried over to help him up.

This, of course, was a result of Zhu Cilang’s modern knowledge and perspective, which had finally opened the door Li Jun had long struggled to unlock.

Li Jun’s demeanor changed entirely, and with a student’s respect, he continued the discussion with Zhu Cilang.

At the same time, Zhu Cilang did not pursue the topic of the Electrostatic Musket further, leaving Li Jun restless with curiosity but not daring to press. Instead, Zhu Cilang turned the conversation to the Lumini Gun.

The Lumini Gun was an improved firearm introduced in the twenty-sixth year of the Wanli Emperor’s reign, after Ming weapons expert Zhao Shizhen had consulted with the envoy Dorsima from the country of Lumini. Depending on the fabrication method, a Lumini Gun weighed between six and eight jin, and was six or seven feet long, with the dragon-head rail and mechanism on the gunstock. There was also a steel blade at the stock, so if the enemy drew near, it could serve as a horse-cutting saber.

The “Military Records” stated: “Among bird guns, the Lumini Gun is the farthest-shooting and most lethal.”

In other words, among current matchlock muskets, the Lumini had the greatest range and muzzle energy.

Though Zhu Cilang had little interest in the seemingly advanced yet flawed Electrostatic Musket, the Lumini Gun sparked his appetite, knowing that historically it was one of the rare firearms to be produced in quantity for the Ming army under Zhao Shizhen’s direction.

When the Lumini Gun was mentioned, Li Jun’s enthusiasm waned. Perhaps this was because he had thoroughly mastered it and no longer considered it cutting edge, so he merely outlined the manufacturing process: “A cold-forged barrel works best. If a skilled blacksmith can hammer it out, the bore can take a three-qian lead ball. Using two and a half qian, drive the red-hot barrel until the eight facets are perfectly straight, then hammer tightly, test in running water for leaks, clean with a round reamer, and the barrel will be flawless and rustproof…”

At this point, Zhu Cilang suddenly asked, “With such a lethal musket, why do the imperial troops not favor it?”

Fu Rugui looked at Zhu Cilang in puzzlement, thinking, Aren’t you asking the obvious? But soon he realized this was meant for Li Jun.

Sure enough, Li Jun replied offhandedly, “It’s nothing more than corrupt officials, shoddy materials, and forced labor. Craftsmen struggle to survive, so who can devote themselves to their work? As a result, defective guns abound—fire one shot and hurt yourself before you ever harm the enemy. What soldier would love such a weapon?”

At this, Zhu Cilang smiled as he wrote, “If a man of your talents were to supervise production, employing superior methods, selecting the finest materials, and treating craftsmen like brothers, could the Lumini Gun not become a powerful weapon for the army?”

“It certainly could.” Li Jun wrote, his hand trembling slightly.

Was this a sign that he was about to be entrusted with an important task? The thought of the scorn of relatives, the sighs of his family after his father’s death, the steady decline of his household, and the ever more distant dream of avenging his father—all these daily sorrows now seemed to have an outlet, a chance for redemption. How could Li Jun not be excited?

But… what if I’m overthinking it? What if they don’t actually value me?

Li Jun looked at Zhu Cilang, suddenly filled with both hope and anxiety.

“I, Qin, would like to invite you, sir, to step forward and supervise the manufacture of Lumini Guns for the imperial army. All shall be as I have said—superior methods, the finest materials, craftsmen well cared for. An initial fund of five thousand taels is provided, so that during your leisure, you may also consider how my approach might improve the Electrostatic Musket.” Zhu Cilang smiled, leaving a calling card and a gold ingot worth ten taels.

“This is my card. I doubt anyone in the capital would dare impersonate me.”