Chapter 55: The Two Broken Artisans of Liaodong

After having their fill, the restless Lin Shu continued working overtime, cradling little Yan’er in his arms. With both Jingni and the Moon Goddess absent, he had no reason to idle, nor could he sleep. In fact, he could have hurried back to the old city of Liaodong overnight, but his beloved sister Jingni worried for him and wished he would rest for a few days.

Everyone in the world of Qin was incarnated in a body of spiritual energy—even a pig or a dog had such a form. Only he, an outsider and protector, could not even dream of becoming a martial master, much less a mere novice. If there were ever a global tournament for the untalented, King Lin would surely be the world’s greatest martial arts good-for-nothing.

Perched atop her father’s shoulders, little Yan’er stared wide-eyed at the deep blue sea. Perhaps she did not yet know fear; her eyes brimmed only with curiosity. But not just Yan’er—Lin Shu himself, standing on the platform, was equally captivated.

The makeshift shipyard had only a dry dock and two gigantic gantry cranes. The two steam-powered gantry cranes, each raised thirty meters high and forty meters wide, were designed to hoist vessels of ten thousand tons. Standing atop the platform, Lin Shu watched as a great keel was swung out and hooked. Once hoisted, watertight compartments assembled themselves beneath the keel in succession, followed by the steam system connecting throughout. Once the hull and power system were complete, the deck was sealed over even more rapidly.

After half an hour of watching, Yan’er grew sleepy, prompting Lin Shu to return to his quarters, though the mainframe consciousness continued working through the night, building ships. Night after night, the sea breeze never ceased and the waves wandered restlessly. The sun, having sunk beneath the sea, emerged again from the other side.

As dawn broke, industrious craftsmen prepared to begin their labors, each holding or shouldering the strange tools issued previously by the king.

“Has His Majesty been by the sea all night?” asked Wu Song, who, while the troops assembled behind, found time to question the night patrol captain. The king forbade them from approaching, but the patrol still tried to provide what security they could.

“Yes, His Majesty remained at the river mouth. Many large houses have sprung up there,” the young captain replied with excitement—he had seen the king build a city on the grasslands before coming to Liaodong.

Wu Song nodded calmly, barely suppressing his urge to set out immediately. He did not have long to wait—soon more than twenty thousand riders began trotting toward the worksite.

“Ha! Elder Brother, tell me: aren’t we craftsmen who look nothing like craftsmen, and yet we’re not quite cavalry anymore either!” The speaker, Ma Guo, was Ma Bao’s younger cousin, and his cheerful banter lifted everyone’s spirits as they rode instead of toiling so early in the morning.

Ma Bao gave a rueful smile. His little cousin was as carefree as ever. Of the four Ma brothers—Bao, Jia, Wei, Guo—only the two of them remained; the other two had perished in forced labor. Once famed as the “Four Great Craftsmen of Liaodong,” only two crippled artisans now remained: Ma Bao and Ma Guo.

“There’s still Baoguo, but the Wei family is gone,” Ma Bao sighed again. Though the king seemed kindly, forced labor was a devouring beast.

As the morning mist thinned, the massive warehouses—ten to fifteen meters tall—came into view. At the sight of the king’s new stone buildings, the Eastern Hu cavalry could no longer restrain themselves. With a cheer, the vanguard’s horses broke into a gallop, and thousands of hooves thundered in joy.

“Come, let us go and see as well!” Wu Song shouted, thinking that if not for waiting on the craftsmen, he would have arrived long ago.

The cavalry’s charge left the thousands of craftsmen trailing in their dust. As the excited horsemen neared the pier, they slowed and dismounted, running into the vast warehouses.

“Those Hu riders!” Lin Shu shook his head with a smile but paid them no mind. The Eastern Hu were born to be free and unruly; Lin Shu had no illusions of training them into ironclad war machines. Only the downtrodden, honest farmers were truly suited to rigorous discipline.

Row upon row of towering stone buildings quickly swallowed up the twenty thousand Hu riders. Shock was written plainly on the faces of Wu Song and the Liaodong officers. “A king of the northern wilderness, raising cities in a single day—his reputation is well-earned!” The legends the Hu had boasted of were, Wu Song now realized, not exaggerations.

Not only Wu Song and the soldiers, but the three thousand craftsmen trudging through the dust were left utterly dumbstruck.

“Elder brother, is this a mirage?” Ma Guo asked with a wry smile, unable to believe what he saw.

Ma Bao shook his head as well. The stone fortresses stood close enough to touch; the sounds and shapes of twenty thousand people were all too real.

“This is real! His Majesty did not speak idly!” After a long daze, the three thousand craftsmen began to explore the newly built docks.

There was little to see in the warehouses, and soon the crowd moved to the river dike. Having witnessed the wooden city and the warehouses, the craftsmen were no longer as easily surprised. The great bridge stretched from shore to sea as if built to welcome the Dragon King of the Deep.

“The main bridge is ten meters wide, the narrowest at least six—surely the pier itself is finished!” Ma Bao finally smiled after seeing the dock. The hardest part, the pier’s extension into the sea, was done; building the shipyard would be a trivial matter now.

His brother’s intuition told Ma Guo even more. “Elder brother, look over there—that seems to be a great ship. But the color...”

To the left of the dock, a great iron chain tethered thirty enormous sea beasts, the largest a hundred meters long, the smallest thirty. “Are those ships or sea monsters?” The curious Hu cavalry did not dare approach too closely.

Soon, the gaze of over twenty thousand people was fixed on the sea beasts outside the open-air dock. Bathed in sunlight, the creatures shimmered with a white, metallic sheen.

“These aren’t sea monsters,” Ma Bao declared. “What kind of sea monster could be chained like that, and remain so docile?”

Wu Song had seen ships before, but the largest was no more than forty meters, and all were wooden, with sails or oars. But these had neither.

“Elder brother, are these even ships? They look like floating houses!” Ma Guo shook his head—how could something so huge be propelled? By fish, perhaps?

Ma Bao could only shake his head bitterly, unable to comprehend what he saw.

Suddenly, a deep, dragon-horse roar echoed out, and the divine demon carriage on the main bridge started to move.

“Your Majesty!”
“Greetings, Your Majesty!”

At the sight of the man atop the carriage, clad in a thin robe, cavalry and craftsmen alike raised their hands in salute. Ma Bao bowed his head in deep respect. The king had once subdued him through iron and blood; today, his awe was cemented by the king’s almost demonic feats of construction. No wonder the little wooden city had been so crude—it was only meant as a temporary measure! He had thought it was due to the king’s lack of skill.

The carriage halted before the crowd, and the familiar riders no longer feared the dragon-horses—some even wondered if they might pet them.

“Wu Song, Ma Bao, have the sailors and shipwrights board the ships. I’ve left instruction manuals aboard—study them at your leisure. If you break something, it’s fine—just don’t sink the ship.”

If the ships sank, even Lin Shu would have difficulty retrieving them. Shortly, he would have to go to the Changbai Mountains to quarry and mine, and had no time to instruct them personally.

Having spoken, King Lin turned the carriage and departed, returning from the roof to the cabin. No sooner had he gone than the crowd rushed toward the docks.

Beside the dock were many small and large wooden boats. The impatient Ma Bao and Ma Guo were the first to leap aboard a small craft.

Most of the craftsmen were illiterate, but many foremen could read the everyday script of the Yan Kingdom. To help them familiarize themselves with these ships, the mainframe consciousness had prepared the most detailed explanations. Even if they failed to understand, the mainframe would answer their questions in person when the carriage returned.

As the wooden boat drew up alongside the great ship, Ma Guo pulled out his small iron hammer. With a resounding clang, the sound revealed much.

“Elder brother, this is real steel! The king’s finest steel! But how does it not sink?”

Ma Bao ignored him. Did Ma Guo think he was some master craftsman from legend, able to answer every question? He only seemed to ask the things Ma Bao didn’t know, and never the things he did.