Chapter 810 - Drying the Furnace

"Human sacrifice?" Ma Qianzhu blinked in surprise. "Old Wen, that's hardly scientific."

"Scientific or not, they say casting swords requires someone to leap into the furnace. For something this massive, perhaps we'd need several volunteers?" Wen Desi grinned.

Laughter rippled through the surrounding crowd, but the naturalized workers within earshot shuddered. The Chief Director's humor was truly terrifying.

At 2:15 in the afternoon, the moment arrived. Ji Wusheng climbed to the furnace platform and accepted a torch from a waiting worker. He raised it high for the audience below to see, then thrust it into a tuyere.

The bone-dry shavings inside caught immediately. Flames erupted outward. Seeing the fire take hold, workers at the other tuyeres inserted their own torches. Within moments, all eight tuyeres roared with flame.

"Start the blower!" Ji Wusheng commanded.

The blower hummed to life, forcing air into the furnace. The fire intensified, and white smoke began billowing from the top—moisture evaporating from within.

"Success!"

Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd below. Ji Wusheng allowed himself a long, slow breath. The ignition had succeeded. But this was merely the beginning.

"Adjust the blast volume!"

The drying process was slow and tedious work. The fire had to be carefully controlled to ensure the temperature rose gradually, drying out the moisture in the lining without cracking it through rapid thermal expansion.

Ji Wusheng remained on the platform, constantly monitoring temperature readings and adjusting the blast. He didn't sleep that night.

By the following morning, the white smoke had shifted to blue—the wood and coke were burning cleanly, and the moisture was largely gone.

"Prepare for the second stage!"

The second stage involved gradually adding charge while increasing blast volume. This was a critical period. If the charge wasn't added correctly or the blast ran too strong or too weak, it could lead to "freezing"—molten iron and slag solidifying at the bottom, ruining the furnace entirely.

Workers began hoisting skips of coke, limestone, and ore to the top. The bell valve opened, and charge tumbled into the throat.

"Keep watch on the gas seal!" Ji Wusheng reminded the foreman. The top gas contained lethal concentrations of carbon monoxide.

Operations proceeded smoothly. The furnace temperature rose steadily. Molten iron began accumulating at the bottom.

Forty-eight hours later, the moment arrived for the first tap.

"Open the taphole!"

A worker drove a long iron rod through the clay plug sealing the taphole. A stream of dazzling, golden-yellow molten iron shot forth, flowing down the iron runner into sand molds prepared on the ground.

"Iron! It's iron!"

The cheers erupted again—louder and more enthusiastic than before. The sight of molten iron flowing like water proved far more impactful than mere smoke and fire.

Senior officers from the Army and Navy watched the flowing metal with hungry eyes. In their vision, this wasn't merely iron—it was cannons, rifles, shells, and armored ships.

"With this, we can finally expand the army," Dongmen Chuiyu murmured to the officer beside him.

"And build more ships," the naval officer added.

Wu De observed the scene with profound relief. The industrial heart of Lingao had finally begun beating strongly. With this constant flow of iron, their development would accelerate dramatically.

Yet Ji Wusheng knew his work was far from finished. The first tap marked only the beginning. Stabilizing production, improving quality, extending the furnace's lifespan—these were long-term endeavors.

"Take a sample for analysis," he ordered. He needed to understand the pig iron's composition to properly adjust furnace operations.

A worker used a long-handled spoon to scoop a measure of molten iron and poured it into a small mold. Once cooled, it would go to the laboratory.

The first tap yielded approximately fifteen tons of pig iron. The quality was decent—slightly elevated in sulfur, but entirely usable. For an initial batch, this was expected.

"Not bad," Ji Wusheng told the exhausted shift foreman. "Good work, everyone. The cafeteria has prepared roast pork for tonight!"

"Long live the Head of State!" the workers cheered. For them, a proper feast was the finest reward.

(End of Chapter)