Kong Yi sighed. "Not very likely."
He thought for a moment, then said hesitantly, "Could it be on Xunfeng Island?"
It wasn't as if they'd been idle lately; they'd sent people to sail along the coastline to sweep the area, and no ships had been spotted on the shore.
If Princess Jinyang hadn't sailed her ships to Sizhou, then the most likely possibility was that she'd parked them somewhere hidden.
He racked his brains and could only think of Xunfeng Island.
Huo Chun frowned. "Impossible. There's nothing on Xunfeng Island. It's not like they could just build a dock there—out of what?"
That was the very thing Kong Yi couldn't figure out either. A desolate island with nothing on it—building a dock there would be an enormous challenge.
Besides, given the weather these days, wouldn't everyone freeze to death on the island?
What's more, the Jinyang Army didn't even have a dock of their own, and the three counties of Gefeng weren't coastal. Where would they board a ship?
If they really were building a dock on Xunfeng Island, supplies alone would be a massive problem.
While the two of them traded theories, the Jinyang naval soldiers on Xunfeng Island were being drilled within an inch of their lives.
Xie Nanxiao was training them with everything he had—after all, there was nothing else to do on the island.
Wang Liang was miserable. He didn't understand why he, a helmsman, had to join the training.
Xie Nanxiao chuckled. "A helmsman is still a member of the naval forces. If the enemy boards our ship, you'd still have to pick up a weapon and fight."
Wang Liang: "..." He had no comeback for that.
At least the food was good lately and the lodging was decent, so his body could still hold up.
Xin San leaned against the doorframe of the barracks, watching the naval soldiers who had just finished their run and were already starting on fist drills. He gloated: "Oh dear, how exhausting."
As a shipwright, he was technical staff.
Xie Nanxiao did make them practice fist forms too, but mainly for fitness—half an hour a day of fistwork—not this kind of intensive training.
Diao Hou was tossing a sweet potato between his hands, a satisfied grin on his face.
"Heh heh, it's good that it's tough. Like they say: sweat more now, bleed less on the battlefield."
"This sweet potato is delicious. Without any sugar, it's already sweet and soft. Roasted, it's even better—I could eat five or six a day."
Xin San rolled his eyes. "Sure, it tastes good, but haven't you noticed—after eating these, you fart a lot? And they stink!"
Diao Hou carefully peeled the skin off the sweet potato. A puff of steam rose, the sweet, sticky aroma growing stronger. He took a gentle bite and found it utterly delightful.
"Isn't it white radish that makes you fart?" he said with his mouth full.
Xin San was speechless. "White radish farts and sweet potato farts smell different. You can't tell them apart?"
Diao Hou was taken aback. "Huh? You can actually tell that?"
"So if I eat sweet potato and then white radish, my farts would be a mixed flavor?"
"Heh heh, next time I feel one coming, I'll let you smell it and see what flavor it is."
The shipwrights inside the building burst into laughter.
Xin San kicked him. "You want me to smell your farts? Dream on."
The group roared with laughter again.
"What a good life this is. If only they were all still alive..." One of the shipwrights' eyes reddened mid-laugh.
Everyone fell silent.
Only those who had truly experienced the fall of their homeland understood how precious the present life was.
Xie Nanxiao stood on a high platform of natural boulders, letting the sea wind rasp across his weathered face as he watched the soldiers drill.
Truth be told, island winters were rough—the wind hit you the moment you stepped outside. He must have gotten uglier.
Still, as he watched the soldiers growing more disciplined with each drill and gaining momentum and presence, a surge of pride welled up in his chest.
He paid special attention to the standout "top" soldiers and nodded inwardly.
Qiu Wu stood beside him. He'd been transferred over to assist Xie Nanxiao in training the naval forces, simply because he could swim.
He wiped frost and ice off his face. "When are we picking out the elite troops for special training? Cangming Guard still doesn't have a single soldier."
Xie Nanxiao cracked a smile. "Soon. Give it a few days, we'll see."
The Cangming Guard was meant to be an elite force. The core members would have to come from the Jinyang Army and the sailors they'd rescued from Xianglu County.
But those sailors had been so abused that their physical condition was poor. Only after this period of good food and proper rest had their bodies gradually recovered and their stamina and strength could finally be assessed.
Of course, there were some promising prospects among the oarsmen too. These men had never received training before, so they also needed more time to observe.
Qiu Wu sighed. "Looking back and forth, there are only about a hundred with potential. After extra conditioning, more will probably be cut. That's too few."
Xie Nanxiao shook his head. "So don't rush. Wait and see."
"The lord took Lin County—too bad we couldn't join in," Qiu Wu said regretfully.
Xie Nanxiao comforted him. "Once spring comes next year, you think you'll run out of military merits?"
He felt bitter inside too. He wanted to go back to Gefeng, but he knew very well that he was needed here more.
Gefeng, Weapons Workshop.
In the meeting hall, Jiang Jin looked at Yun Ye and the few people behind him, smiling. "I didn't expect you all to end up in the weapons workshop."
Yun Ye was quite reserved. "Thanks to you, my lord."
Yun Ci stroked his beard. "I also didn't expect these lads to be such quick learners. They know a thing or two about weapons, so I took them in."
Jiang Jin had recently established a new weapons research institute, focused on researching gunpowder and other thermal weapons. Instruction would begin soon, and besides Yun Ye and the others, they'd also recruited twenty or thirty top students.
When the time came, Jiang Jin would provide focused instruction and cultivation for these people.
That said, thermal weapons weren't so easy to make successfully, even with her source materials.
Many of this era's manufacturing processes lagged behind, not to mention the extraction of various materials, containers, and so on.
So she was prepared for a long haul.
Jiang Jin nodded and handed a stack of drawn blueprints to Yun Ci. "I'm planning to improve the Dragon Plume Crossbow. Take a look at this plan and see if it's feasible."
Yun Ci took them with great care and scrutinized them closely.
Within a few breaths, he raised his head in shock. "My lord, you… you…"
Jiang Jin nodded solemnly. "The Dragon Plume Crossbow is incredibly powerful, but it has one fatal flaw: it can only hold twenty bolts. After they're spent, reloading takes a certain amount of time."
Jiang Jin had tested this time—for an elite, practiced hand, it took about thirty seconds.
For this era, that wasn't really much of a problem.
After all, gains and losses go hand in hand. It has immense power, long range, and rapid-fire capability. The only issue is that once the bolts run out, reloading takes a moment.
Teammates covering for each other makes that easy to manage. Besides, with ordinary bows, nocking an arrow and drawing the string takes time too.
But for Jiang Jin, this wasn't enough. Thirty seconds—in an era of firearms or supernatural powers—would be enough for her to die a hundred times over.
Of course, this was a cold-weapon era, but here people fought in waves of human tides with alarming frequency. In thirty seconds, the enemy could advance a considerable distance.
A year had passed, and the metallurgists at the weapons workshop had mature, more refined skills. They could forge much more precise weapons now.
So she wanted to improve the Dragon Plume Crossbow—or rather, forge an even more powerful repeating crossbow.
