Shansier was completely baffled.
So were all the clerks.
But Li Daoxuan? He was grinning ear to ear.
Ah… so that's it. This was one of the first tremors — the earliest symptom of an oncoming industrial revolution.
When technology advances in one field, it drags all other industries along for the ride. Production speeds up, resources run dry, new solutions are born, and everything begins to roll forward like an unstoppable wheel.
Fascinating. Simply fascinating.
Li Daoxuan leaned back, slurping his bowl of dragon wontons, ready to enjoy the show.
After Chunhong carefully explained the weaving process, Shansier and the clerks finally understood:
textile production consumed enormous amounts of alkali.
"Go fetch our alkali maker from the workshop at Jiangjing," Shansier ordered.
Before long, the craftsman arrived — nervous and sweating.
In earlier days, Gaojia Village had no way to produce alkali on its own. The women bought it from town, until Xing Honglang spent some money to "invite" a master alkali maker from Xi'an. Since then, the village had at least a basic alkali workshop.
Now, being summoned before the full council, the poor man trembled like a leaf. To him, Shansier and Tan Liwen were not mere administrators — they were giants, officials ranked higher than the county magistrate, almost comparable to a prefect.
"Third Administrator," he said timidly, "may I ask what brings this humble one here?"
"I hear our village is short on alkali," Shansier said.
The craftsman grimaced. "Yes, sir. We've run completely out. Every day the women urge me to make more."
"Then make more," said Shansier, rubbing his temple. "Tell the accounts office to give you a pay raise if needed."
The man nearly cried. "This isn't about money, sir. Even with six arms and fifty apprentices, I couldn't keep up!"
Shansier blinked. "Explain."
"When those steam looms start spinning," the craftsman said, waving his arms, "they work day and night without rest! But our process—our process is ancient! I soak mugwort and smartweed in pits, dry them in the sun for days, then sprinkle them with lime to make soap alkali. It's slow, sir! Painfully slow!"
Shansier frowned. The process sounded like brewing vinegar or fermenting wine — something that simply couldn't be rushed.
"So what do we do? Do you know other alkali masters in Xi'an? Should we hire more? Dig more pits?"
The craftsman shook his head so hard his hat nearly flew off. "No, no! Even a hundred pits won't do! Those blacksmiths—those monsters—keep building new steam looms every week! Every machine means more cloth, and more cloth means more alkali. Unless I learn immortal arts, I'll be worked to death!"
Li Daoxuan chuckled from the sidelines. Ah, yes. The pain of cottage industries facing mechanized production. Welcome to progress.
Shansier sighed. "We still need a solution."
"I have none, sir," said the craftsman helplessly.
Chunhong clasped her hands. "Then what shall we do? The entire cloth trade will stop!"
Everyone fell silent.
Li Daoxuan smirked. Come on, think. You should be calling on the school by now. Let's see if anyone remembers.
Just then, the doors creaked open.
A young woman stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl of silver ear soup.
"Father," she said sweetly, "have some dessert."
The Third Administrator's daughter — sixteen this year — had grown into a graceful young lady. Unlike most noble girls who hid behind closed doors, she was often seen at the village school, teaching mathematics to children. She'd already mastered the junior curriculum and had begun studying high school science on her own.
Shansier took a sip of the soup and smiled. "Delicious! My clever daughter cooks like a saint. Truly divine."
She giggled. "Father, what's wrong? You look like you're trying to frown your face into a knot."
Shansier sighed. "Shopkeeper Chun reports that we've run out of alkali. I called the craftsman here, but he says he can't make enough."
The girl tilted her head. "Alkali? Oh, that's just sodium hydroxide! Not too hard to make, though it takes a few steps. You'll need sodium carbonate solution and lime…"
She rattled off a stream of chemistry — reactions, mixtures, and processes.
Everyone stared blankly.
Even Li Daoxuan, who had long since returned his chemistry knowledge to his high school teacher, sat there frozen. Carbonate… hydroxide… oh, heavens forgive me, he thought.
But Gaojia Village's children weren't like him. Their education wasn't wasted. Everything they learned — math, physics, chemistry — had real, tangible purpose.
Li Daoxuan smiled faintly. Good. The new generation has arrived. The era of practical science has begun.
Shansier clapped his hands decisively. "You all heard her! My daughter has just explained how to make alkali in bulk. Craftsman, get to it!"
The poor man was drenched in sweat. "But… but I don't understand a single word! Sodium what? Hydro—who?"
The girl laughed. "Sodium hydroxide is caustic soda. Sodium carbonate is soda ash."
That, at least, made sense to the craftsman. He knew both substances, though his method was slow. As he replayed her instructions in his head, he began to see the process clearly — even if the underlying theory was beyond him.
The girl smiled again. "You don't need to understand the principles. Just like building cement — construct a proper alkali plant, prepare the machines and raw materials, and follow the steps I gave you. That's enough."
She was right. In any modern factory, workers didn't need to know the science — just the procedure.
The chemist designed the formula. Song Yingxing would design the machines. Miners would dig the materials. Laborers would operate the plant. Together, they would form the first industrial chain of human history.
Li Daoxuan gave her a huge thumbs-up.
Shansier, filled with pride, immediately approved her plan and released funding.
And thus, Gaojia Village's first alkali chemical factory — the world's first chemical plant — came into being.
It marked not just a technological leap, but the true beginning of modern industry in this strange, evolving world.
Trivia: The Real History Behind Alkali
In real history, the first large-scale chemical plants also began with the production of alkali.
Before industrial chemistry, soap-making and textile industries relied on natural ash or lime. It wasn't until the late 18th century that processes like the Leblanc and Solvay methods industrialized sodium carbonate and sodium hydroxide production — laying the foundation for all modern chemical manufacturing.
So while Gaojia Village's "chemical revolution" is fictional, it mirrors one of the most pivotal turning points in human technological history — the moment chemistry stepped out of the alchemist's lab and into the factory.