42. Xinghe Castle

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Then everyone followed Yang Fan to the Xinghe Iron Factory. The desolation of this area surprised Xu Guangqi greatly; he had not realized that beyond the bustling city of Zunhua, such poverty existed. Seeing the exterior walls chilled him to the bone—it was a complete ruin. The surrounding walls had collapsed in many places, and the buildings were all makeshift huts made of straw. Fortunately, the craftsmen and apprentices looked healthy, their faces shiny with oil, unlike the pale complexions seen in other factories, which somewhat comforted him. Little did he know that this was because they had been eating kitchen scraps, consuming a lot of grease these past days.

Once inside the factory, he found the courtyard exceptionally clean—not a single leaf on the ground, let alone the trash-strewn, sewage-filled mess typical of other factories, where one would even have to be careful not to step on Wangcai's “gifts.” Inside the workshop, although the building was made of wooden pillars and straw mats, the equipment was complete and well-organized, all meticulously cleaned, earning his nod of approval. Hanging from the beams was a wooden plaque inscribed with the factory motto: “Spend less, accomplish more; do great things without spending.” Xu Guangqi was perplexed—he could understand “spend less, accomplish more,” but “do great things without spending” sounded absurd.

Through conversation, he found that several veteran craftsmen were skilled, and among the apprentices, there were some promising talents. Only then did he relax. Finally, he saw three towering blast furnaces, all well-made and impressive, which won his recognition.

“Master Xu, this factory covers ten acres, a vast area. If it’s not enough, we can purchase more barren land from the government. You may use one of these three blast furnaces. The craftsmen, apprentices, and materials—we will provide everything. What do you think?”

“I'm satisfied with these craftsmen, but the living conditions are, frankly, quite simple.”

“Don’t worry about that. I will start building new houses in a few days. No one will have to live in these straw huts anymore. I guarantee warmth for the winter.”

With all concerns addressed, Xu Guangqi decided to conduct the research and development of the new cannon here. After returning to the capital, he would send people under Song Yingxing’s leadership to continue the work.

After these men left, Zhao Fu approached and asked if the new buildings were truly going to be constructed. With only two months until winter, he feared it might be too late to build both houses and a school.

Yang Fan had already resolved to fortify the area. This was where he would establish himself and ensure his safety. As for housing and the school, he planned to buy cotton tents and honeycomb coal stoves—winter in North China would not be a problem.

Returning to the small courtyard, Xiaoniangpi and Yaoguang were already awake, sitting in the main room eating hot pot. Seeing him enter, Xiaoniangpi rolled her eyes and ignored him, clearly still remembering his arrogance yesterday.

Yang Fan was unbothered and called Xiang Yi to bring chairs and utensils, then sat down to eat.

“Yaoguang, I want to rebuild this place. Do you have any suggestions?”

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“You’re finally going to start building your turtle shell.”

“Don’t put it so harshly. It’s my grand 30,000-square-foot mansion.”

“Isn’t that just a castle?”

Yang Fan knew that architecture in this era had many rules and that one should be cautious not to cause trouble.

“Lady Tushan, I want to tear this down and build a new house here. I’m not sure if Ming laws will allow it.”

Xiaoniangpi swallowed the tripe in her mouth, glared at him, and said deliberately, “Bring me the blueprints. How can I say if it’s allowed without seeing specifics?”

Yang Fan snapped his fingers. “Consider it done.”

Turning around, he went inside and pulled out several sheets of paper—architectural plans printed from the internet.

Xiaoniangpi looked at the first one, curled her lip, and said, “This won’t do. You’d be punished for this.” She tossed it aside.

Yang Fan picked it up and saw it was the Bastille prison blueprint.

“This one won’t work either—the tower is too tall, even taller than the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Are you trying to reach the heavens?”

He picked up another: Neuschwanstein Castle.

The rest, like Hohenzollern Castle and the like, were all no good—obviously military fortresses, implying rebellion.

Yang Fan was helpless. He handed her the last one, a design for a residential building from a future era, shaped like a square courtyard. The first floor would serve as workshops and warehouses, ten meters high. The second and third floors for residences, with relatively small windows facing outward, all barred with thick steel grills.

The open space inside the courtyard was where the blast furnaces would be placed. Yang Fan’s small courtyard was on the northern side.

“How tall is this building?” Tushan Yue tilted her head, examining the plans.

“About five to six zhang high.” (One zhang is roughly 3.3 meters.)

“That’s acceptable. It’s still not as tall as the city’s drum tower, so it should be fine.”

This was Yang Fan’s own design. The exterior had continuous protrusions resembling battlements. The walls were planned to be built of cement and stone: three meters thick on the outside, one meter thick inside. The outer wall had no windows or openings—just solid wall.

Such thick concrete could not be broken by the cannons of this era.

Gunpowder explosives would also find it difficult to breach, as gunpowder is not dynamite.

The roof would have parapets and battlements, usable as defensive city walls.

The residential part, above ten meters in height, also had one-meter thick stone concrete walls.

The exposed windows were only about one foot square and reinforced with thick steel bars embedded in cement, making them extremely sturdy. Outsiders could not break in, while insiders could use them as firing ports to shoot arrows, crossbow bolts, and early firearms outward.

The courtyard enclosed by the building was precisely the current factory area.

Yang Fan planned to build new houses outside the existing factory without interrupting production, and once the new buildings were done, they would dismantle the inner old ones.

“This building is fifty zhang long and thirty-four zhang wide—about 150 meters by 102 meters. Such a large area will take at least three to four years to build,” Xiaoniangpi pondered.

“It won’t take that long. I have special methods. At most it will take one year,” Yang Fan thought to himself—he had prepared plenty of steel and cement, so there was no way it would take so long.

“I want to buy all the surrounding barren land. Lady Tushan, do you have any connections with the county government’s housing office to help smooth the purchase?”

“Hmph, you come to me for such a trivial matter? Do you look down on me? Go find that poisonous snake yourself. It all depends on Secretary Ruan’s word. But if you take all the land, what about the poor people? They don’t have money to rent houses.”

Yang Fan gave a thumbs-up in his heart. No matter what else Xiaoniangpi was like, this kindness was truly admirable. After so many years in the Eastern Depot, she still retained compassion—a rare purity emerging from the mud.

“If these people are willing to work, I will hire them. Meals, lodging, and wages all covered,” Yang Fan said.

“Looks like you still have a conscience, hmph,” Xiaoniangpi sniffed.

“By the way, where is my bailiff’s office? I have to go see it.”

Xiaoniangpi rolled her eyes. “You still remember you’re a bailiff? I thought you’d forgotten. I came to take you there to handle the handover.”

In the afternoon, Yang Fan and Tushan Yue went to the Zunhua Garrison Command Office to complete the handover of the bailiff position. As a minor bailiff, Yang Fan naturally could not see the commander; only a deputy commander received him. After verifying all Yang Fan’s documents, the official stamped the paperwork.

Yang Fan’s prepared ten taels of silver as a bribe was gladly accepted.

After leaving, Yang Fan asked, “Lady Tushan, where to next?”

“You fool! Of course we’re going to your damn bailiff’s office to take over from your predecessor!”