MLMD -Chapter 78 Preparing to Set Off

“Kidding? Not at all!” Yue Yang shook his head, suppressing a laugh. “No matter how bold I am, I wouldn’t dare joke with you, Brother Zhao. That’d be asking for death, wouldn’t it?”

“Then tell me—what is all this garbage on your list?” Zhao Santong shook the paper in his hand, his expression ugly. “Steam turbines and spare parts, steam hydraulic presses, three open-hearth steel furnaces, a gunpowder factory, a small cement plant—and all of it driven by steam turbines? Plus a bunch of other messy stuff I don’t even recognize. Are you sure today isn’t April Fool’s Day?”

“Brother Zhao, I really didn’t lie to you. These are genuinely what I need!” Yue Yang looked utterly aggrieved.

“You didn’t lie to me? Do you think my house runs a museum? These things were phased out more than a hundred years ago! Where am I supposed to find them for you?”

Zhao Santong was so angry he actually laughed. The kid really wasn’t lying—none of these items were prohibited by the state. But no sane person would ever want this junk. Even the worst township enterprises wouldn’t touch scrap that had been obsolete for over a century, let alone pay a hefty price for it.

Seeing Zhao Santong’s skeptical look, Yue Yang grew anxious. He casually pulled out his bank card and waved it. “Brother Zhao, even if I were lying to you, this RMB wouldn’t lie, right? How about this—I’ll transfer thirty million to you upfront. Once you get all this equipment for me, I’ll pay you the balance. What do you say?”

“Damn it, you really plan to buy this trash?” Zhao Santong took a deep breath. The kid was right—money wouldn’t lie. “Are you planning to open a modern industrial museum or something? Otherwise, why buy a pile of junk like this?”

Yue Yang smiled bitterly and shook his head. He didn’t want to either. If it weren’t for that damned jade pendant malfunctioning, who would buy this stuff? What gave him the biggest headache now was how narrow the portal was—everything had to be dismantled before it could be transported through. Looks like he’d have plenty of work ahead of him.

For the sake of the money, Zhao Santong still decided to take the job. Shaking his head, he said, “Sigh, fine. I’ll think of a way for you. I don’t even know if anyone’s still willing to make these antiques. Honestly, what era are we in, and you’re still playing with steam turbines? Do you think you can time-travel back to the nineteenth century or something?”

What Zhao Santong didn’t know was that his muttered remark was half right. Yue Yang really could travel through time—just not to the nineteenth century, but the seventeenth.

Then Zhao Santong turned serious. “Brother Yue, most of this stuff is manageable. I can get it done for you in three months. But that gunpowder factory—that’s a real problem. The equipment’s easy enough to get, but running a factory like that requires special state approval. Even if it’s black powder, it’s still gunpowder. You understand, right?”

“I understand!” Yue Yang thumped his chest. “Brother Zhao, just get me the equipment. As for the factory site, permits, and paperwork, I’ll figure that out myself!”

“You can handle it?” Zhao Santong looked at him doubtfully, his gaze flickering. In any country, someone who could openly run a gunpowder factory was no ordinary person. This stuff was far too sensitive—especially in China, where private gunpowder factories practically didn’t exist.

Seeing the look on Zhao Santong’s face, which practically screamed You’re lying, Yue Yang couldn’t be bothered to explain. He sighed helplessly. “Whether I can or not, you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll take care of it myself.”

Seeing how confident Yue Yang looked, Zhao Santong stopped pressing the issue and nodded. “Alright then. I’ll contact you in three months. Once everything’s done, I’ll send you the final price.”

After saying goodbye to Zhao Santong, Yue Yang drove his truck to the steelworks several more times. When he saw Jia Wenmao again, Yue Yang noticed that the man had gained some weight after a few months and teased him, “Old Jia, I haven’t seen you for a while, and you’ve put on some pounds. What—have I given you too few tasks lately?”

Hearing this, Jia Wenmao waved his hands frantically. “No, no—fewer tasks are better! Any more and I’m afraid my heart won’t take it. You should hurry up and take your treasures away. If the police see them, I wouldn’t be able to explain myself even if I had eight mouths.”

“What? You’ve already finished everything?” Yue Yang was overjoyed.

“Of course. It’s all stored in the warehouse. You’d better take it away quickly! I’ve got a wife and kids to support—if I end up in jail, what will happen to them?” As he spoke, Jia Wenmao led Yue Yang toward the warehouse.

When Jia Wenmao opened the warehouse doors, rows upon rows of dark, menacing objects appeared before Yue Yang’s eyes. If a military enthusiast familiar with ancient Chinese weapons were here, they’d probably shout, “Tiger Crouching Cannons!”

That’s right—these were the famous Tiger Crouching Cannons of the Ming dynasty. Lightweight and portable, ranging from thirty-nine jin to over a hundred jin, they were extremely effective against massed enemy charges and thus favored by the Ming army. However, the cannons Jia Wenmao made were somewhat different. Due to limitations in materials and craftsmanship, Ming-era Tiger Crouching Cannons were reinforced with seven to twelve iron hoops around the barrel to prevent bursting. With modern materials and techniques, those issues were no longer a concern, so the iron hoops were removed.

Seeing these cannons, Yue Yang’s eyes narrowed into slits with delight. He hurried over, stroking the cold metal, a deep sense of satisfaction welling up in his heart.

Watching Yue Yang grin from ear to ear, Jia Wenmao said, “Boss, as per your requirements, sixty 30mm-caliber, forty 80mm-caliber, and twenty 100mm-caliber Tiger Crouching Cannons are finished. They can’t compare to modern artillery, but firing gunpowder and various projectiles won’t be a problem at all.”

“Good—very good!” Yue Yang lightly patted the cannon beneath his foot, nodding in satisfaction. “I’ll move them out right away. Don’t worry—no one will come checking on you.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jia Wenmao muttered.

He found his boss increasingly strange—first armor and weapons, then muzzle-loading rifles, now artillery. If these weren’t all products from centuries ago and too heavy to even give away, Jia Wenmao might really have thought his boss was plotting a rebellion.

Yue Yang didn’t have the energy to care about Jia Wenmao’s thoughts. He drove his truck over, loaded the finished armor, weapons, and Tiger Crouching Cannons onto it, and transported them to his courtyard in the suburbs. After night fell, he worked through the night, transferring all the stored weapons, armor, and a batch of grain into the Ming dynasty.

When dawn began to break, Yue Yang dragged his exhausted body back to Yue Family Manor and into his room. But there were no gentle attendants waiting on him now—the Linglong sisters had already moved to the new home in Yingzhou City along with most of the manor’s residents. Only a steward and several dozen servants remained to manage the estate.

Though utterly worn out, Yue Yang couldn’t fall asleep right away. He stroked the jade pendant in his hand, staring at the cracks running across it, an indescribable feeling surging in his heart. Filled with melancholy, he eventually drifted into a deep sleep, not waking until the late afternoon.

Yue Yang went to the training ground and immediately saw Shunbao drilling the soldiers. Since Yue Yang had taken up the post of Caoshou Officer, Yingzhou’s city defenses were under his command. He had stationed three thousand infantry in Yingzhou itself, leaving only one thousand infantry and one thousand cavalry at Wuli Fort. Worried that the force was too small, he had recruited another three thousand new soldiers and handed them over to Shunbao for training.

“Attention! Chest out, head up, stomach in! Don’t move! If anyone dares to fidget, my stick isn’t just for show!” Shunbao, clad in armor, paced among the recruits with a thick cudgel in hand. Other soldiers holding wooden sticks walked alongside him, and the moment they spotted sloppy posture or wavering bodies, the sticks came down without mercy.

“Heh… looks like everyone’s training pretty enthusiastically!” A voice rang out across the field.

“Young Master—you’re finally back!”

Shunbao, who had been pacing sternly with his hands behind his back, instantly broke into a radiant smile at the sound of the voice and ran over. The speed of his transformation left the surrounding soldiers dumbfounded. None of them could have imagined that the grim-faced instructor of the past few days had such a hidden side.

“Damn bootlicker,” many of the new recruits cursed silently. Little did they know that this habit had been ingrained in Shunbao since childhood. After serving Yue Yang as a book boy for over ten years, smiling when he saw his young master had long since become second nature.

When Shunbao reached him, Yue Yang asked, “Shunbao, what’s Wu Chengfeng up to?”

Mentioning that fellow made Shunbao realize that the young master hadn’t come looking for him after all. He snorted lightly. “That guy’s still outside the fort drilling his cavalry. Probably won’t be back until evening. Does Young Master need him? Want me to send someone to call him back?”

“No need.” Yue Yang waved his hand, glanced at Shunbao, then at the densely packed recruits behind him, and smiled. “Alright, carry on with the training. In a few days, I’ll be taking you to Khorchin again—when the time comes, you’d better put on a good show.”

“Young Master… are we really going to bring the young mistress back?” At the mention of going out with Yue Yang again, Shunbao immediately perked up. The fact that Yue Yang always took him along showed just how much he was trusted.

“Of course. Would your young master ever lie to you?” Yue Yang patted him on the shoulder, his voice brimming with confidence. “Get ready— in a few days, we set off!”