Her eyes widened as she saw Yuwen Sheng, dressed in a black robe, looking languid.
He still wore a mask that made strangers approach, a black mask painted with golden flames, but this time he had changed to a more imposing style, no longer as ghostly and frightening as before.
"General?"
Is it really necessary to be so thrill-seeking? They even resorted to a backstab.
If she weren't young and had a strong heart, she would have been scared to death by him by now.
She patted her poor, bewildered heart.
Unexpectedly, Yuwen Sheng, who was extremely busy with his affairs, came to the Forging Department. During this process, she knew that her every move was being secretly observed and reported to him.
Her freedom came from his indulgence.
The fact that others ignored her, didn't pry, didn't inquire, and weren't curious about her was at his behest.
The help she received from all the artisans in the workshop was also thanks to his approval.
He seemed amused by her startled expression, and chuckled as he kicked the bucket beside him: "What do you call this reddish-gray powder you make?"
Zheng Quchi's body seemed to have a mind of its own; before her brain could even react, she had already retreated three feet away from Yuwen Sheng.
“Made-in-the-mold cement,” she muttered.
He examined the gap between the two stones in his hand, which was held together by reddish-gray cement grout, making it look dense and hard.
"Is it harder and more durable than limestone mortar with added sorghum?"
Zheng Quchi felt that if he didn't answer this question well, he could easily dig a hole for himself and leave himself with trouble.
She had to think of a very careful answer.
But before that, she mustered her courage and cautiously asked, "General, are you in a hurry to build the city walls to defend against foreign invasion?"
Upon hearing this, Yuwen Sheng seemed to chuckle. The way he looked down at her always made her feel like some kind of small animal being played with.
"Yes, it's urgent."
Zheng Quchi took a deep breath and said clearly, "Then it is more suitable than sorghum mortar. As for its long-term strength, I am not sure. Perhaps sorghum mortar is more stable over time. However, it currently has a major drawback: it needs a suitable climate and environment to catalyze its solidification. Obviously, the current overcast and snowy weather is not suitable. On the other hand, earthen cement does not have this problem. Its biggest advantage is its rapid setting, which absolutely meets your requirement of speed."
Yuwen Sheng asked leisurely, "Oh, so how long does rapid condensation take?"
"Basically, it takes about a day, but sorghum mortar takes as little as half a month if it's sunny, and up to a month if it's cloudy. If it's rainy or snowy, it's even harder to estimate, and it might even fail because of the humidity... well, because it gets soaked in water and doesn't stick well enough."
Upon hearing this, Yuwen Sheng remained silent for a moment, staring at the stone in his hand, his heart stirred by her words.
She really gave him a huge surprise.
"Then it can be mass-produced?"
Seeing how busy she had been these past few days, yet only managing to produce such a small bag of powder, he couldn't help but ponder: it could indeed help solve his current problem, but whether it could effectively repair the entire collapsed city wall was still a question.
Zheng Quchi said, "Making this traditional cement is not difficult. There are only a few materials, but some of them are difficult to obtain. We need to manufacture a grinding machine first to shorten the production time. Currently, it is only for the repair of the city wall. Small-batch production is not a big problem. But if it is a larger batch... Next, I want to talk about something else."
Yuwen Sheng tried to break the stones, but he couldn't break them apart immediately. He only caused some cracks in the glued parts. To be honest, he was quite satisfied with the strength of the bond.
But when she said that production could only be done in small quantities and not in large quantities, his eyes darkened, and his scarlet lips deepened slightly: "Speak."
"In fact, traditional cement construction is only suitable for a portion of the brick and stone structure of the city wall. More sections require specialized construction and meticulous repairs."
Yuwen Sheng said, "Continue."
When it came to his professional knowledge, Zheng Quchi, who had seemed a little timid just now, became more and more energetic as he spoke, his eyes shining brightly.
“I have surveyed the construction site. Only about two kilometers of the Guishu Ridge is suitable for building with stones. The Chushan depression behind it and the section of coniferous forest to the north can be built with clay walls and a material called rammed earth.”
"Firstly, transportation is convenient. Suitable yellow clay can be directly excavated from the mountains based on the principle of proximity, without having to carry heavy stones from the quarry back and forth, which would waste time. Secondly, the local stonemasons and masons are more skilled and confident in the craft of building earthen walls. As a result, there is no need to constantly check for errors in the project or for various technical problems such as the walls becoming crooked or unstable."
"Thirdly, the city walls that have not yet collapsed can be repaired one by one without having to demolish and rebuild them. It is best to take minimal intervention, repair and reinforce the old, and shorten the construction period."
She spoke at length, using vocabulary he could understand in order to make it easy for Yuwen Sheng to comprehend.
But she didn't expect that what she said was not only heard by Yuwen Sheng, but also by a large group of men outside the military workshop.
Her powerful words, her well-organized sentences, and her clear explanations were enough to give them a thorough understanding of the key points and focus of the next phase of the project.
The blacksmiths had stopped hammering and casting iron at some point, and apart from the roaring furnaces, the only other sounds in the casting workshop were the clatter of needles.
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