Everyone broke into grins when they heard Song Yingxing's worried tone.
Strong financial support?
Heh.
Clearly, the new scientist didn't yet grasp what "Tianzun's blessing" really meant. Around here, materials were never the problem. What they lacked wasn't silver—it was blacksmiths. As long as they had enough smiths, they could pile up flintlock muskets like mountains.
Still, the shortage of skilled craftsmen was real, and Gaojia Village couldn't simply conscript more young men—Dao Xuan Tianzun had forbidden drawing too many from the militias. Firearms production was limited, and manpower couldn't grow quickly. They needed other ways to boost firepower.
Just then, Xu Dafu raised his hand. "All right, you've tested your fancy muskets. Now it's my turn to test my new toy."
The blacksmiths blinked. "You made something new again?"
Xu Dafu grinned. "Remember that little iron shell and the handful of iron pellets I asked you to forge last month?"
Gao Yiyi snapped his fingers. "Right! You had me make some weird hollow canister and tiny beads of iron. You never said what for."
Now, it seemed, the mystery would be revealed. The crowd leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
Xu Dafu opened a small wooden box and carefully took out a strange object—half metal cylinder, half wooden handle.
Li Daoxuan immediately chuckled from the clouds. Oh, this is straight out of the twentieth century…
It was unmistakably a stick grenade—the classic "pineapple" silhouette seen in every war movie.
Gao Yiyi squinted. "A little iron hammer? No, wait… it's hollow! How's that supposed to smash anything?"
Everyone exchanged glances. Xu Dafu worked with gunpowder, so naturally this thing must explode. Could it be packed with explosives inside that shell?
Cheng Xu suddenly recalled the paper bombs they'd thrown in the last battle against the Guyuan rebels. His eyes widened. "Wait… don't tell me that's another explosive! But this one looks… different."
Xu Dafu laughed. "Exactly—it's for throwing. But this time, I added a handle so you can toss it farther."
Cheng Xu's eyes brightened. "That makes sense—the farther the better!"
Xu Dafu continued proudly, "The last bombs were too weak. They could only blow up the soldiers at the exact landing point. This one's different. With Tianzun's guidance, I mixed in iron pellets inside the casing. When it explodes, those little beads fly in all directions—plus, the iron shell itself shatters into fragments. So it's basically… one big death blossom."
The blacksmiths shivered. The image alone made their skin crawl.
Cheng Xu, who'd actually fought on the frontlines, broke into a cold sweat. He imagined being on the receiving end—and saw a storm of shrapnel turning soldiers into confetti.
Xu Dafu clapped his hands. "All right, time for a field test! Tianzun named it himself: the Matchcord Grenade."
The moment he said that, everyone instinctively took several steps back. "Don't set that thing off near us!"
Xu Dafu chuckled. "Relax, relax. Gao Chuwu! You're up."
Gao Chuwu jogged forward, catching the grenade midair. He weighed it in his palm and grinned. "This thing's got a good heft. I can probably throw it twenty zhang easy."
Xu Dafu nodded seriously. "Make sure you do. Any closer, and the shrapnel might take us out."
He lit the fuse with his fire-striker. Sparks hissed.
Everyone took another few steps back.
Gao Chuwu ran forward two strides, swung his arm, and hurled it with all his strength.
The grenade arced gracefully through the air—flaming fuse trailing like a comet—and landed twenty zhang away before erupting in a thunderous BOOM!
When the smoke cleared, the straw dummies on the test field were shredded. Clothes torn, bodies pocked with holes—each one looked like it had been through a hailstorm of nails.
Cheng Xu's jaw dropped, then he threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Hahahaha! Incredible! This thing's a monster! Better than any weapon I've seen! Xu Dafu, make more—lots more! Give each of my men twenty, and I'll march straight to the capital!"
Xu Dafu rolled his eyes. "Sure—until it rains. Then your whole army goes up in smoke."
"…" Cheng Xu fell silent.
Meanwhile, Song Yingxing's scholar instincts kicked in. He whipped out a brush and paper. "This invention is extraordinary! I must record it immediately—another wonder for Tiangong Kaiwu!"
He plopped down right there in the dirt, butt in the air, sketching furiously until the design was complete. He even annotated the diagram with long notes, beaming with pride.
Li Daoxuan, watching from above, was pleased. Another technological leap! With each innovation, the militia's strength grew, reducing the need for divine intervention. The last battle had been too close—too many wounded.
If they can fight from beyond enemy reach, he thought, fewer lives will be lost.
After all, his little villagers were precious.
As the excitement wound down, Bai Yuan, who had stayed to watch, tugged Gao Yiyi's sleeve. "Master Gao, that new flintlock of yours—mind saving me one? I'd like to try it myself."
Gao Yiyi chuckled. "Come now, Mister Bai. You're family to us. Naturally, Tianzun will see that Bai Fortress's militia gets its share. Both flintlocks and grenades—you won't be left out."
Bai Yuan grinned broadly. "Excellent! Forget the grenades, I'm more interested in marksmanship. Among the six noble arts, archery has always been my favorite. I'll become the best musket marksman in all of Hebei!"
The others exchanged looks. "You're the lord of Bai Fortress… why on earth do you want to be a musketeer?"
Ming Context:
Early Ming grenades were recorded as huozi dan (fire bullets) or zha yao, crude black-powder bombs made of paper, bamboo, or iron. Adding metal fragments to enhance lethality foreshadowed modern fragmentation grenades centuries ahead.
Trivia:
The "matchcord grenade" mirrors the German Model 24 Stielhandgranate from WWI—same stick handle, same satisfying BOOM. The name may be ancient, but the vibe? Straight-up action movie.