Chapter 49: The Mirror

The fire started by Liu Yu in Fucheng Village changed the landscape of entire Shanxi Province. The local tyrants, high-ranking officials, and powerful figures in northern China suddenly realized there was a force they couldn’t afford to provoke, one backed by the mighty Black Flag Army. Since they couldn’t confront them, they chose to cooperate—those with wealth shared it generously. Liu Yu received requests from all sides every day: some offered to send their apprentices, some offered tribute, like those opium dealers who paid half of their profits as protection fees for passage. Some claimed kinship, saying Liu Yu’s ancestors were from the same clan. Even more extreme cases saw people immediately asking to make Liu Yu their godfather. Upon inquiry, Liu Yu learned that this “godson” was only forty years old.

Yet the only thing unchanged by this upheaval was Liu Yu himself—he knew his strengths. The combat effectiveness of the Xiliu Camp was his only real asset. Though the army still had many shortcomings, it had grown stronger.

“We are the best officers and soldiers. In this battle, I can declare everyone’s merits: Platoon Leader Zhang Biao—first in merit! He led 37 soldiers to hold off an attack by 800 Black Flag Army troops, standing firm as a mountain.”

“Faced with an entire battalion of regular troops equipped with artillery, Platoon Leader Cai Yunnan led two squads in a successful assault, terrifying the enemy. Sima Tai, with a small force, annihilated an entire enemy battalion with a single whistle…”

Now standing before Liu Yu were all the officers and soldiers of the Xiliu Camp. They listened as Liu Yu analyzed the gains and losses of the battle: “All our units showed extreme determination. Even facing a vastly superior enemy, we dared to attack first with the spirit of a vanguard, effectively leveraging our firepower and maintaining agile troop movements…”

As the saying goes, skills are always useful. The soldiers of the Xiliu Camp now realized that every skill they had learned was invaluable—whether it was rifle practice, camping drills, or even the impressive skill of disassembling and reassembling rifles in the dark. This skill proved extremely practical in night battles, with many infantrymen successfully fixing their rifles in the darkness.

But Liu Yu still had more to teach his troops: “Yet this battle also exposed many problems. First and foremost, the greatest responsibility lies with me. Knowing that the Honghe Post might face a large-scale attack, I still sent only one infantry platoon there. This put us at a severe disadvantage at the start of the battle. It’s my responsibility, and my biggest mistake.”

Applause erupted as the soldiers warmly welcomed Liu Yu’s willingness to admit his faults.

“Platoon Leader Zhang Biao’s defense was firm, but his troop deployment was incorrect…”

“Platoon Leader Cai Yunnan’s attack was bold, but communication with the main force was delayed. I bear most of the responsibility for this. The disconnect between the main force and Cai’s attack led to failure at the last moment.”

“Sima Tai’s attack moved too slowly on the left flank, allowing some enemies to escape…”

“During the battle, our Spencer rifles had slow loading times, greatly affecting both Platoon Leader Zhang’s defense and Platoon Leader Cai’s attack…”

If Liu Yu’s army were one that kept learning and improving, there is no invincible army in the world—every army has its weaknesses and shortcomings. But as long as an army breaks free from complacency and keeps learning and growing through battles, it can continuously improve and become an invincible elite force. In this regard, the People’s Liberation Army is an excellent example. Liu Yu had seen many internal documents of the PLA, in which they paid close attention to every battle and detail, conducting thorough reviews and summaries after each battle or campaign to educate their troops and make them stronger with each fight.

The opposite example is the army of the Qing Dynasty. Military historians agree that, in terms of combat capability, the Qing forces in the Sino-Japanese War were even worse than those in the Sino-French War ten years earlier. Instead of improving, they had been declining over those ten years. Even the Qing army itself did not deny this. Around that time, the commanders of the Sheng Army were deeply worried about their troops’ shooting skills. The Sheng Army was considered the core of the Huai Army and the most important force of the Qing Dynasty, with equipment said to be the best in the empire and training said to be on par with Western armies. Yet even such an army saw commanders like Zhou Shengbo privately expressing concern, saying the troops had fallen apart—officers and soldiers were only focused on personal gain and had no interest in training. Their shooting accuracy was barely 10–12 out of 20, so what could be expected in future battles? Yet superficial efforts continued, and the unchanged Sheng Army remained a key force relied on by Li Hongzhang. But Zhou Shengbo’s concerns proved accurate during the Sino-Japanese War.

Recognizing one’s own strengths and weaknesses was precisely the greatest asset Liu Yu brought to the Xiliu Camp. Next, it wasn’t just him who spoke—various officers also stepped forward.
“For combat defense, determination is first and foremost. Clearing the field of vision—this successful defense is entirely thanks to…”
“A few reflections on Cai Pai’s attack in this battle…”
“A few lessons from the ambush on the soldiers’ sentries…”
“A few experiences in driving away religious troublemakers…”

They didn’t just say a few words; they went to the battlefield to demonstrate the situation and provide hands-on training. Liu Yu even selected several high-ranking captives from the Yellow Flag Army and Li Yangcai’s forces to explain the situation for the officers’ reference.

At the end of the training, they conducted reverse hypothetical attacks and defenses, teaching how to deploy forces if the Xiliu Camp were under attack. Many ordinary soldiers who had participated in battles also spoke from their personal perspectives about the gains and losses of those battles. Everyone gained a lot, and all these summaries and reviews were written into official documents.

The battle reports, analyses, and summaries of the battles at Haiyang, Guangping, and the riverbanks in Shanxi were originally written by Liu Yu alone. But now, each infantry platoon could produce high-quality battle documents. Liu Yu told them, “All these documents must be archived, and we must keep learning. In one or two years, we will go to the battlefield for a military history tour…”

“Let us always remember this battle, remember the heroes who sacrificed in battle, and remember all those who participated! Let us pay them our respects!”
“Respect!”

Liu Yu was overjoyed—Xiliu Camp had truly become a force capable of self-improvement without his need to oversee every detail personally. The soldiers and officers who couldn’t attend the summary meeting this time didn’t need Liu Yu to give lectures either; their respective units would take the initiative to teach them. This was a tremendous progress, even more pleasing to Liu Yu than the improvement in combat strength itself. The soldiers raised their rifles in salute to the Red River, followed by a shout: “Salute to the platoon leader!” “Salute!” Liu Yu returned the salute to the officers and soldiers: “I too salute you, the bravest of them all.” After the review, many officers and soldiers still wanted more and stayed at the old battlefield to conduct further analysis. Zhang Biao had originally thought his handling was flawless, but now he found himself eager to learn more. It truly proved that knowledge is power—he realized now that if he had understood these principles earlier, the Yellow Flag Army would never have even reached the mud walls. Liu Yu, on the other hand, left with a pile of materials—detailed battle reports, summaries, and reviews from every platoon and squad, as well as individual reports. He was filled with joy. In later years, he would enjoy collecting such materials. As he was thinking, someone called out to him: “Colonel, Colonel!” The only one who addressed him in this way at Xiliu Camp was that genuine foreigner, the self-proclaimed colonel Jacken: “Colonel, I hope to get some funding.” Liu Yu glanced at Jacken. He hadn’t brought any liquor bottles today—could it be he was short of money? “What’s the matter? Any progress on the sulfuric acid thing?” As a time traveler, he knew about nitroglycerin, a powerful weapon. But to produce nitroglycerin, one needed glycerin first, and he had seen on Mystery Island that it was roughly made from sulfuric acid and fat. Fat was easy to find, but his chemistry knowledge was weak, and he couldn’t recall how to make sulfuric acid. Yet now Jacken seemed to have made progress, so Liu Yu looked at him with hope. “No! No! It’s not that!” Jacken said. “Something more valuable for Xiliu Camp’s combat strength?” “WHAT?” Liu Yu blurted out. “If that’s the case, I’ll offer a generous reward.” “I managed to get it brought in from the coastal defenses—originally brought from America!” Jacken took out a long object resembling an elephant’s tusk and emphasized, “I can make glass.” Glass was also a crucial weapon for time travelers, but it was still the late 19th century, and even the Indians couldn’t be deceived with glass. “What? No!” He finally saw what that elephant-tusk-like object was and exclaimed excitedly, “A generous reward! An absolutely generous one!” “I can make this. I’ve worked in a glass factory and learned how to make it.” Liu Yu knew how significant this was. It was a scope, a magnifying scope at that. It was like a golden finger that could greatly enhance Xiliu Camp’s combat strength. He was so excited he could hardly speak: “A generous reward! Whatever equipment, manpower, or funding you need—there’s no problem.”

In Liu Yu’s hands was a very primitive scope, on par with those used during the Civil War. The entire scope was as long as the barrel, with only a two-times magnification—completely unsuitable compared to modern sniper scopes. But for Liu Yu, it was the perfect weapon for a killing shot. The Remington rifle could reach an effective range of 900 meters. Even without a scope, the Xiliu Battalion had already set a record of killing targets from 300 meters away, which shocked the battalion’s soldiers greatly. Historically, there were even longer-range sniper records without scopes. The most famous sniper incident during the American Civil War was the death of General John Sedgwick on May 19, 1864, during the Battle of Spotsylvania. General Sedgwick was inspecting an artillery position behind the lines when he saw his soldiers hesitating due to fear of enemy snipers in the opposing trenches. He shouted, “From such a distance, they couldn’t hit an elephant!” This became General Sedgwick’s most famous last words. A skilled Confederate sniper then shot him, proving him wrong—the bullet entered beneath Sedgwick’s left eye and killed him instantly. The shooter used a rifle without a scope, from a range of about 477 meters (500 yards). Liu Yu believed that with more training, even with black-powder rifles, better marksmen could be developed. However, human eyes had their limits; the 477-meter record was nothing compared to what snipers with scopes could achieve. During the Civil War, both sides used such primitive scopes, with lengths equal to the barrel and magnifications ranging from 1.5 to 3 times, yet they set many astonishing records. The Confederates had records of killing targets from 700 to 800 meters away, while the Union snipers, organized into two regiments, mostly fought at ranges under 400 meters but also had records of killing targets from over 1,000 meters—some even exceeding 1,300 yards. This was simply a miracle, considering that modern sniper records are only around 2,200 to 3,000 meters. This was the difference between using a scope and not. The Xiliu Battalion’s hitting record was 300 meters, but what would it be with a scope? After all, the Remington rifle’s effective range could reach 900 meters. Liu Yu was filled with desire: “Hurry and call the officers here! Bring the calibrated Remingtons!” He added, “And bring me an extra half-body target.” Jeken knew there was a chance. The officers were puzzled why Liu Yu had called them over. Sima Tai asked, “Commander, what’s the matter?” Zhang Biao reluctantly said, “I still need to go back.” “Get two targets; we’ll test the Remingtons.” “300 meters! Targeting a cluster of targets—hit one out of eight, causing serious injury! That’s the record our platoon set!” Zhang Biao was proud this time. Jeken smiled and said, “Let me try shooting.” “Good!” Four calibrated Remington rifles had already been brought over. Jeken picked one at random and began installing a 1.5-times magnification scope on it.

The Remington riflers were all the best in their squads. They were reluctant to be sent by Jeken to set up the half-body targets, saying, “Let’s compare our marksmanship then.”
“Half-body targets at 300 meters, lying down, with cover!”
Jeken calmly raised his gun and aimed at the targets 300 meters away.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!” He fired slowly, almost one shot per minute. After firing five shots, he said excitedly, “Captain, no problem!”
Liu Yu gave a signal to an infantryman: “Report the results!”
The infantryman ran back and forth 600 meters, out of breath, with an expression of disbelief on his face. “Reporting to the captain: Five shots from a Remington at 300 meters, two hits.”
Jeken was drenched in cold sweat—clearly he had failed. Achieving two hits out of five shots from 300 meters using a sniper scope was a disgrace for a sniper.
But the officers and Remington riflers’ expressions changed upon seeing Jeken’s performance. What kind of marksmanship was this? Two hits out of five shots from 300 meters, and that on half-body targets!
Zhang Biao stared intently at the scope on the Remington rifle. “With this, the Yellow Flag Army wouldn’t even be able to get within 100 meters!”
Liu Yu glanced at Jeken and simply said, “Have someone else try first. You’ll shoot from 500 meters next—see who has the best marksmanship.”
A Remington rifleman recognized as having the most accurate marksmanship was recommended. Following Jeken’s instructions on using the sniper scope, he became proficient in ten minutes. “Captain, I’m ready!”
“300 meters, lying down, with cover, half-body targets.”
This time, his firing rate was even slower—one shot every one and a half minutes. Yet every officer felt the wait was worth it.
As soon as he finished firing, Liu Yu ordered, “Report the results!”
Without needing to specify anyone, an infantryman had already run back and forth 600 meters. This time, it was Liu Yu who was surprised. “Captain, Sima, four hits out of five!”
Only one shot missed, and the spread was very small. Zhang Biao exclaimed excitedly, “Great! Captain, assign six of these to our platoon!”
As the commander of this defensive battle, he knew well the impact those Remington rifles had. If they could hit every shot from 300 meters, they would be virtually invincible.
“400 meters! Five shots, lying down, with cover!” Liu Yu didn’t answer Zhang Biao’s question.
“Captain, both half-body targets have been shot!”
Now Sima Tai was giving orders on Liu Yu’s behalf: “Go get more! As many as possible!”
Everyone knew there were nearly sixty Remington rifles in the Xiliu Camp. If each one were equipped with such scopes, the scenario would be terrifying.
After more than ten minutes, the results came in: “400 meters, one hit out of five!”
This result satisfied the officers, but Liu Yu frowned. “Original ammunition or reloaded ammunition?”
After checking, the soldier said, “It’s reloaded ammunition. I’ll switch to original ammunition right away.”
Reloaded Remington rifle bullets, no matter how well made, were still far inferior to original ammunition. In close-range combat, the difference wasn’t noticeable, but in high-stakes sniper battles, the advantage of original ammunition was clear.
“Two hits out of five!”

Regarding this hit, the officers were already surrounding Jeken to ask questions, but Liu Yu knew this was far from enough.
This was an ideal shooting scenario in a training range; the accuracy rate in wartime would surely be even lower.
He knew the Remington was a high-powered single-shot rifle, not a professional sniper rifle.
Snipers of this era preferred more precise rifles, even some front-loading rifles. These rifles were very expensive—some single-barreled rifles costing up to $500—and the Chassepot rifle, the representative of sniper rifles of this era, was always in short supply; even in the United States, it was hard to obtain even with money.
As for professional equipment like telescopic sights, they were still rudimentary at the time, and there were no specialized sniper bullets either—only the original rifle bullets could be used as a makeshift solution: “500 meters, ten shots, one hit!”
“600 meters, fifteen shots, no hits!”
Even this record of missing all shots from 600 meters left the Remington shooters extremely satisfied. Although theoretically, an expert could hit targets at that distance using a Remington without a scope.
Simatai also mentioned something else: “Their artillery is completely useless!”
These were just the results after basic training.
According to Liu Yu, with effective hitting at 400–500 meters—and with further training—it was possible to reach distances of over 600–700 meters, well beyond the range of their opponents’ artillery.
Most of their opponents in Vietnam used front-loading artillery; there might have been a few precious bronze cannons, but in any case, in most battles, the artillery fired from within 300 meters. Even the Huangqi troops besieging outposts operated their artillery from within 200 meters.
But with telescopic sights, not only did the enemy commanders become the primary targets, but the enemy’s artillery positions also became ideal targets for their Remington shooters.
Liu Yu discussed this matter nearby: “Give Jeken whatever money and equipment he needs! As long as he can create telescopic sights, one should be equipped with each Remington, and there will be generous rewards later.”
Jeken’s face immediately darkened: “Sir, this requires manual grinding. These sixty rifles…”
“Do your best!” Simatai answered for Liu Yu: “Our Xiliu Camp won’t let you down.”
“I want a hundred pieces,” Jeken said, having come up with a plan: “We can set up a factory together. You invest your skills, and we’ll find ways to sell the produced sights.”
“No problem!” Jeken was happy—not only would he keep his job but also build a business for himself: “I demand half of the shares.”
“No problem! Let’s cooperate happily!”
“Cooperate happily!”
Jeken’s project for telescopic sights progressed rapidly. According to Zhang Biao, who was closest to him, it was estimated that within three to four months, his Remington rifles could be equipped with telescopic sights.
And the pressure shifted to Lian Jincheng.