Chapter 82: The Tide

October 1881. Storms were approaching.
As in history, there were several minor clashes in August and September of that year. The French now faced the Xiliu Camp instead of the Black Flag Army, making war inevitable.
Liu Yu was still striving for a few more peaceful years. Before him now were two 60-mm mortars. Jing Shiyi and Jieken kept shaking their heads: “These guns don’t have much combat power…”
The barrels had been made, and the main bodies of the guns were also completed—lighter than Liu Yu had imagined, at 29 kilograms. Three soldiers could easily carry them. But the problem lay with the shells themselves.
The time fuses were unreliable, and combined with the insufficient power of black powder, this was the result: “Bang… bang… bang… boom!” On average, only one out of three shells exploded. If they landed in mud or sand, they would almost always fail to explode.
The time fuses were hard to control, often exploding prematurely or only after hitting the ground. Achieving perfect detonation over enemy forces was extremely difficult.
The impact fuse was even more problematic. Moreover, all the mortar shells used black powder from propellant to gunpowder, resulting in weak explosions. Even when they did explode, they produced only twenty to thirty fragments—less effective than even hand grenades mixed with cotton explosives.
Jieken reported on the progress: “Next, we’ll mix cotton explosives into the black powder. It should increase the power somewhat, but I still recommend modifying the 82-mm mortars instead.”
Two 82-mm mortars were also modified, yielding better performance—especially in terms of range. The 60-mm mortars had a range of only 200 to 300 meters. Coupled with their reliability issues, they could even be countered by Remington rifles; they were essentially small grenade launchers.
The 82-mm mortars, however, had a range of 120 meters more, allowing them to fire outside the enemy’s effective range. More importantly, their larger shells seemed more reliable. Thus, Jieken suggested, “The concept behind these guns is sound. Their trajectory curves make them useful in mountain and jungle warfare.”
They had already attempted an attack once before—against some reckless bandits from Xinghua. The Xiliu Camp didn’t send infantry; instead, they surrounded the bandits and trapped them, then used four mortars to bombard them for most of the afternoon.
Although only one in three shells exploded, the actual shells could still injure people, not to mention the frequent deaths and injuries from explosions.
The entire artillery platoon bombarded them for most of the afternoon until the enemy surrendered. Even then, Jing Shiyi lamented, “It’s a shame we can’t gather more data.”
The four guns fired over 250 shells, with about 100 exploding. Afterward, the entire stronghold became off-limits, littered with unexploded mortar shells. To obtain further experimental data, one person was even injured.

However, comprehensive experimental data was obtained. Now, at least Jeken and Jing Shiyi know where the problems lie. But improvements often bring about new issues. Jeken said bluntly, “At this rate, it will take at least another year to finalize it. Besides, I suggest using picric acid directly.”

The preparation of picric acid-based explosives at Xiliuying Camp has been successful. This type of explosive, modified from dyes, was originally invented by the French years later, but now it’s a Xiliuying Camp patent. The only problem remains: production volume is too low. Several units have conducted small-scale blasting experiments.

The grenades and explosive packs filled with picric acid are now recognized as highly powerful. After all, this isn’t stable black powder but a high-power smokeless explosive, almost on par with nitroglycerin.

Liu Yu invented a small explosive pack containing four jin of picric acid, claiming it could blow anything apart—fortifications, artillery, obstacles, or even an entire company of infantry. In practice, using half the size of the pack still managed to blow up a large area.

As for grenades, they are basically no different from modern grenades. But due to insufficient production, all products are still in the experimental stage. Jeken, on the other hand, hopes for more resources: “I estimate that using picric acid will greatly increase our reliability.”

“First, get the 60-mm mortars working properly, especially improve the fuses, and also the propellant…” As he spoke, Liu Yu thought of something else: “Right, we can improve the propellant. Have Desmond find some experts in Hong Kong to work on the fuses.”

Originally, he thought nitrocellulose could be used as propellant, but it was too difficult. After several attempts, none were successful. But now he suddenly remembered another substance that could serve as propellant.

He had seen it in a technical manual of the Eighth Route Army, part of military history materials. He had just looked at it out of curiosity at the time and didn’t remember it deeply. But when they mentioned this propellant, he recalled it and even thought of the processing steps.

“Prepare to use nitroglycerin as propellant.”

Upon hearing this, Jeken was terrified: “Commander, that won’t work. We might all be blown to pieces before the cannon even fires.”

Since becoming the company commander, he had become much more cautious, drank less alcohol, and usually liked to wear a tie. But now he couldn’t care about etiquette: “This is too dangerous, too dangerous.”

Liu Yu’s memory was surprisingly good. He managed to recall a few things from long-ago memories: “Hmm, we can use willow shavings to treat nitroglycerin—about a 2:1 ratio. Without picric acid, we can make grenades by mixing nitrocellulose with black powder, as well as black explosives…”

That was also a homemade method of the Eighth Route Army: adding 7% nitroglycerin to black powder and mixing in willow shavings to create high-power grenades. According to the Eighth Route Army’s test data, grenades made from black powder produced only 14 to 22 fragments, while those made from black explosives could reach 188, and cotton-propellant grenades could exceed 200.

As for the most crucial component—nitroglycerin propellant—Liu Yu could roughly recall the details: it used nitroglycerin to ignite nitrocellulose. He immediately provided the general specifics, leaving the actual experiments to Jing Shiyi and Jieken. “The issue of time fuses will be handled by experts.”

This type of propellant was naturally much more powerful than black powder, and its greatest advantage was that it was smokeless, giving them an edge over the French army in this regard.

Guns and cannons of that era all used black powder, producing black smoke after firing, which made it difficult to fire again. With smokeless propellant, they could observe and fire without concern. More importantly, despite its many drawbacks, this mortar had an inherent advantage: its firing rate.

Human trials of attacking fortifications confirmed that its maximum firing rate was over ten rounds per minute, with a sustained rate of over six rounds per minute. Although this was much weaker than the original design, it was still a powerful weapon for the Xi Liu Camp. Even if only one out of three shells exploded, they still preferred such a powerful tool.

If nitroglycerin propellant was used and the shell body was modified with picric acid or nitrocellulose, the mortar’s range and power could be elevated to a higher level. The only problem was time.

Jing Shiyi asked quietly, “Will we make it in time?”

He was referring to the planned Sino-French War. With Liu Yu’s instructions, the design of the mortar essentially had to start from scratch, and the direction he suggested might not work. If they had to revert to using black powder or gunpowder, it would be a major problem.

Even if it were feasible, there wouldn’t be enough time. It would take about a year to modify old shell bodies into reliable projectiles. If they followed Liu Yu’s plans for major revisions, it might take up to a year and a half under ideal circumstances.

Liu Yu estimated that it might indeed be too late, at least for the battle against Li Weiyeh. But this would come at a cost—just as switching to nitroglycerin propellant would significantly reduce the lifespan of the cannon barrel due to high temperatures and pressures.

Yet outwardly, he had to speak firmly: “Regardless of whether we make it in time, we must go all out. Request all necessary supplies and personnel from me… Don’t fear casualties.”

Over the past two years, the Xi Liu Camp had experienced casualties in weapon tests, whether it was the relatively safe black powder or the nitroglycerin, which required handling by boat on the river. Fortunately, at least compared to some major safety accidents in the late Qing dynasty’s armories, Liu Yu could proudly claim a very good safety record.

But now, they could only take on more responsibilities. Jing Shiyi shared Liu Yu’s determination: “Since the commander has spoken, we’ll work hard. Hopefully, we can make it in time for the war.”

He and Jieken were both pessimistic, estimating that war would break out fully once the French army deployed. But they didn’t know that after Li Weiyeh captured Hanoi, full-scale war would still be delayed for another year.

Liu Yu wouldn’t tell them that either: “Strengthen defenses, build more protective walls, and focus all efforts on researching the propellant…”

Now, Liu Yu’s armory is no longer that makeshift operation. It no longer dares to concentrate all its operations in the old camp; instead, it has been divided into seven branch factories, with a total workforce of over seven hundred people. It’s even exaggeratory to say that if the Xiliu Camp Armory were separated, it could become another Xiliu Camp on its own.

The newly established mortar factory alone has over a hundred workers, and it must also work closely with several other factories. But then Liu Yu added, “You two, whoever goes to the front line will be in charge overall.”

His words weren’t loud, but everyone understood that although the factories hadn’t been separated yet, once war broke out, they would have to be separated, and one of them would have to take overall responsibility. Jieken spoke up, “I’ll go! Let Liu Haohao assist me.”

“Everything in this area is now in your hands!” Liu Yu said decisively. “Jingshiyi has a bright future ahead.”

During war, armories need to expand, but no matter how much they expand, it can’t keep up with the pace of military expansion. Jieken sacrificed himself for Jingshiyi. Meanwhile, Liu Yu gave some further instructions on manufacturing nitroglycerin propellants. Then Su Sui came over with two bodyguards, saying, “We have a talented woman in our sect. If you have time, Commander, you might want to come and see her.”

Liu Yu knew she was referring to Luo Yanqiu. “I know. I’ll go.”

Su Sui now had absolute control in the Huajian Sect—she could get whatever she wanted, almost becoming the second most important figure after Luo Yanqiu. She glanced at Liu Yu and walked away with a smile.

Liu Yu continued to discuss details. Even if they couldn’t make it to the first battle, they should at least be there for the decisive battle against the enemy army. After all, the complexity of mortars was much lower than that of ordinary artillery.

Jieken was usually a bit lazy, but after Liu Yu placed the responsibility on him, he became diligent. He immediately started planning how to improve things as quickly as possible.

At present, the other technological inventions of the Xiliu Camp Armory had reached a level of saturation. Aside from progress in the industrial production of sulfuric acid, he could deploy skilled experts to work on these areas.

Moreover, he knew that the Black Flag Mint also had a group of technical experts whose skills were on par with his own. He saw this as an opportunity to borrow them over, and Liu Yu agreed.

As for avoiding accidents, he didn’t want to implement such a plan for now. After all, the Black Flag Armory lost four or five people each year—a quite high rate. He preferred to use a manpower strategy—after all, the Vietnamese workers in Bac Kie were an inexhaustible source of labor. He would let them handle the peripheral tasks while focusing on high-tech work himself.

The group had a good conversation. Liu Yu added, “I’ll lend you Liu Suiyun for three months. His technical skills aren’t great, but he can still be useful in some areas.”

At the mention of Liu Suiyun’s name, Jingshiyi grew slightly annoyed. When he looked up, he saw Liu Suiyun appearing ahead, showing off his revolver.

Is he just a company commander? What’s there to show off about? When I return to Xiliu Camp, I’ll be the battalion commander too.

Meanwhile, Liu Suiyun said to Liu Yu, “Commander, Liu Yongfu has asked you to go to Baosheng for a meeting. You must go.”

Liu Yu calculated that, similar to history, Liu Yongfu was planning to return to his country to seek reinforcements. Although the Xiliu Camp had demonstrated sufficient strength, Liu Yongfu still placed his hopes on the Qing Dynasty. He still harbored the illusion of obtaining several thousand foreign rifles, dozens of cannons, and hundreds of thousands of taels in military funds from the Qing Dynasty, so that he could remain the undisputed leader within the Black Flag Army system. However, Liu Yu didn’t expect Liu Yongfu to be so enlightened. The first thing he thought about was who would take charge of the Black Flag Army if Liu Yongfu returned—whether it would be Wu Fengdian as in history, himself, or someone else. It would depend on Liu Yongfu’s vision. If it were himself, it would be the best choice for Liu Yongfu and also the best choice for future history. At this thought, Liu Yu sighed softly. He didn’t know what choice Liu Yongfu would make, but Luo Yanqiu would likely have to wait a few more days. He said to Jieken, “I’m leaving the armory in your hands. I hope to get good news from you when I return from Baosheng.”