The next day, Fang Er went to inspect the firearms workshop, with the master craftsman Zhou Zhi following behind him, reporting on the work.
"My Lord, the firearms workshop currently has six hundred and forty-seven artisans. Of these, two hundred are skilled old masters, and the rest are new artisans who have just completed their training. They are all assisting the old masters, with each old master guiding four to five new artisans. We can now cast thirty cannons daily. The six hundred and thirty cannons you ordered will be completed in another two days. As for cannonballs, we can produce around a thousand rounds per day, all of them are impact-fused explosive shells, using granular black powder as per your request. Regarding the few guns you provided, we have only managed to replicate one so far, and the others are still in the trial production stage. Would you like to see them?"
"Let's go take a look." Fang Er's eyes lit up. They had already managed to replicate one, but he wondered if it was a PPSh or an AK47.
Zhou Zhi led Fang Er to a small room and pushed the door open. Inside, three elderly artisans were refining parts in their hands. Scattered around the artisans were piles of guns, clearly rejected and unqualified scrap. Seeing the door open, revealing Master Craftsman Zhou Zhi and Fang Er, the three immediately stood up and bowed.
"Greetings, my Lord, greetings, Master Craftsman."
Zhou Zhi walked up to one of them and said, "Bring out the replicated gun from before, my Lord wishes to inspect it."
"Yes, Master Craftsman Zhou." The man walked to the back and took a gun from a box. It was an AK47!
"My Lord, please inspect." Fang Er took the gun and went to a nearby workbench. With his hands moving like butterflies weaving through flowers, he disassembled the entire gun into parts in less than a minute. Then, he picked up each part for inspection. After going through all of them, he nodded with satisfaction. He took a handful of bullets from his pocket, loaded them into the magazine, and asked the artisans for a ball of hemp rope. He had them bring a table closer, and then he left the small room.
Finding an open space, he placed the gun on it, secured it with objects on both sides, and then tied one end of the hemp rope to the trigger. He aimed the muzzle at a wall, turned on the safety, pulled back the bolt, and let it retract. It wasn't that he didn't trust the artisans' craftsmanship; after all, it was the first replicated product, and it was prudent to be careful. After retreating ten meters from the table, Fang Er pulled the hemp rope.
*Brrt brrt brrt brrt brrt brrt!*
The hemp rope pulled the trigger, and a string of bullets flew out, sending fragments of red brick flying from the wall. When the last bullet was fired with a click, the wall was already covered in dense bullet marks. Fang Er nodded with satisfaction and then looked at Zhou Zhi, asking, "Excellent. If we were to produce this at full capacity, how many of these guns could we make daily?"
Zhou Zhi pondered for a moment and replied, "My Lord, at most fifty units per day."
"A problem? This output is somewhat dissatisfying for me. With over six hundred artisans, even if only two hundred old masters are present and with the help of machine tools, the number shouldn't be this low."
"My Lord, we are short on machine tools." Zhou Zhi's face showed difficulty.
"This matter, this Lord will resolve. We will cast another three hundred cannons, and after they are completed, we will switch to making these. We also have nine more Five-Tooth Great Ships, which have already been ordered by Li Shimin, and the cannons for them must also be installed."
"Yes, my Lord." Zhou Zhi's expression of difficulty turned into joy upon hearing Fang Er's words. With new work, and Fang Er's promise to resolve the shortage of machine tools, this was undoubtedly good news.
The machine tool issue was the most urgent. Fang Er selected thirty of the most skilled artisans from various workshops and returned to his manor with Zhao Gang's inked name. The workshops simply had no spare machine tools for them to use. The set of machine tools in the shed at his home was the only available set at the moment. The machine tools he had previously exchanged had already been distributed by him from time to time.
Manufacturing machine tools was not difficult for Fang Er now; the difficulty lay in the cutting tools. However, this could only be researched after the various tribes on the grasslands sent their mineral resources. Back in the shed, Fang Er directed everyone to disassemble a lathe, drawing out diagrams in comparison. Then, he personally demonstrated the manufacturing process to everyone. It was a rare learning opportunity, and no one dared to be distracted.
A few days later, a lathe was assembled. Fitted with the cutting tools removed from the original lathe, the new lathe was powered on and started. A steel rod with a diameter of five centimeters rotated in the lathe's chuck, with layers being shaved off by the cutting tools. The artisans were filled with joy and praised endlessly.
"Don't celebrate too early. The next task will be for you to do it yourselves. For every qualified lathe you produce, each person will receive a reward of ten strings of cash!" Fang Er interrupted their excitement after letting them revel for a while.
The reward of ten strings of cash was like a shot of adrenaline, motivating the artisans to put in their utmost effort. For the next few days, Fang Er only offered guidance from the sidelines, no longer taking action himself. After all, this work could not solely be done by him. Although his craftsmanship was exquisite, he was still only one person; teaching was what he should be doing, rather than doing.
After each part was completed, Fang Er would personally inspect it. Without using a ruler, he could tell by touch where there was too much or too little. This master skill left the artisans stunned and utterly amazed. However, Fang Er showed no leniency; any unqualified parts were thrown out of the shed. The artisans could only rework them with crestfallen faces.
Seeing that their confidence seemed to have been dampened, Fang Er said from the side, "Do not think that this Lord is being excessively demanding. Remember, the precision of each machine tool determines the precision of the items made by them. A half-millimeter deviation in the guide rail, a half-millimeter deviation in the slider, when combined, the resulting error will be far more than one millimeter! Parts being unqualified is the least of the consequences! In severe cases, breaking cutting tools and flying tool heads injuring people are common occurrences! Do you still think this Lord's requirements are harsh now?"
It took a full two days to produce one qualified lathe. After testing the lathe, Fang Er inspected the turned steel rods and nodded at the crowd with a smile. The artisans immediately cheered, more excited than when they had seen Fang Er make the lathe. This was something they had achieved together after scrapping countless workpieces. To be affirmed by Fang Er was a great honor. Leaving them to continue production, Fang Er returned to the backyard with satisfaction. From then on, he no longer needed to constantly supervise them; the standards for each part were already deeply ingrained in the artisans' minds.