Iron Dynasty Chapter 981

Qingzhou.

The uproar from the newspaper's bold offer to buy Siberian furs at top prices had barely settled when, the very next day, another headline from the same paper sent waves of excitement rippling through the crowds.

A powerful piece penned straight from Xiao Ming's hand laid out the grave offenses of the Golden Tent Khanate, proclaiming that the Great Yu Empire was now launching a full-scale war against them.

“This is fantastic! We've longed for this moment forever. Remember how the Golden Tent Khanate strutted around and trampled us before? Now, payback time has arrived.”

Inside a bustling restaurant, a middle-aged fellow in a simple short jacket and pants shouted his joy after scanning the newsprint.

Sharing his table were three companions, all clad in matching gray outfits, spanning various ages.

Catching the middle-aged man's outburst, one of the younger men at the table snatched up the paper right away. Once he devoured the emperor's own words, thrill surged through him instantly.

“Ah, if my vision weren't this poor, I'd enlist in the forces and charge against those barbarians right now.”

The young man fiddled with his spectacles. At age sixteen, distant sights had blurred for him out of nowhere. His kin dragged him to healers for years straight, yet no cure emerged.

Only with the boom in Qingzhou's glass-making trade did eyeglasses finally appear, revealing his condition as myopia. That's when relief came. Sure, the frames chafed a bit, but at least the world sharpened into focus.

Still, the deepest sorrow lingered: his impaired sight barred him from military service.

“It's unfortunate you can't enlist, yet serving the emperor isn't limited to soldiering. We're proving our devotion right here, toiling away at the machinery plant. Those sleds and steam engines? Our sweat built them, right?” the middle-aged man boomed.

The remaining pair chuckled. One patted his garb and added, “Spot on. Dressed in the factory's uniform now, matchmakers line up to pair me off! Proves our machinery works stands unmatched.”

At that, all four burst into shared laughter.

“Your machinery plant shines, sure, but our rubber works holds its own. Without our tires, how'd you craft those bicycles and tricycles?”

“Right you are, no need to boast. Lacking our steel plant's output, would you really cobble machines from mere wood?”

“Our chemical plant won't back down!”

“…”

Across the eatery, clusters of folks from various plants filled the seats. Factory rules now mandated unique uniforms for each crew, letting anyone spot their workplace at a glance.

Behind the counter, the proprietor grinned at the lively bunch. His spot thrived on hearty, affordable meals, plus its spot hugging the workshop district—now better dubbed the industrial heartland.

Come midday break each day, droves of laborers flooded in for bites.

These hands earned solid pay, starting at thirty silver dragons monthly. Life treated them well, so splashing on drinks and nibbles felt routine.

Thanks to these flush patrons, his modest eatery pulled in twenty gold dragons every month.

He'd grown accustomed to their playful jabs too. After all, factories dotted the area thickly, and each team's staff brimmed with pride.

As the clamor peaked, crisp horse hooves rang out sharply from the street beyond. Heads turned toward the window, revealing a mighty column of riders in gleaming silver chest armor thundering past. At the front rode a general with piercing brows and gaze, draped in a crimson cloak, radiating raw intensity.

“Hey, isn't that Qi Guangyi, head of the cavalry division?” one laborer piped up, spotting the leader.

“Looks like war's truly brewing this round. Against the barbarians, cavalry's our backbone. Foot soldiers' stubs can't match the speed of horse legs.”

Another worker chimed in.

Beside the inn, Qi Guangyi scanned the industrial sprawl and roadside workers alike. Stationed in Raozhou for a full year without a visit home, he found Qingzhou transformed yet again upon return.

His journey back had mostly unfolded over broad concrete paths. The imperial court never paused road-building efforts, and Qingzhou's vast grid of routes had now solidified.

Better paths meant busier traffic too—traders hauling wares in wagons, with bikes popping up now and then under riders.

Most strikingly, folks' attire had shifted. Patched rags persisted for some, but cleaner, finer garb adorned far more.

Savoring the thriving vista, Qi Guangyi spurred his steed onward to Qingzhou's heart. This trip brought him back by imperial decree.

He'd boarded a steam train from Raozhou to Cangzhou, only for it to falter en route, demanding fixes. To hasten things, he switched to horseback via old relay stops straight to Qingzhou.

Once through the gates, Qi Guangyi's eyes sharpened once more. Versus last year, bikes swarmed Qingzhou's streets like never before, dotting every corner.

After yet again admiring the industrial might of Qingzhou, he wasted no time and headed straight for the palace.

Within the Imperial Study, Xiao Ming awaited Qi Guangyi's arrival.

The push north to smash the barbarians loomed close. Niu Ben and Luo Quan had mustered 80,000 foot troops already, joining Qi Guangyi's 60,000 mounted warriors for a 140,000-strong assault on the Golden Tent Khanate.

Even so, in this push, cavalry's edge remained key, he reckoned. His Han-style rifles and Imperial Guard cannons packed punch aplenty, but absent the riders' swiftness across plains, those infantry plodders couldn't chase down the foe's horsemen.

Thus, he'd called Qi Guangyi expressly for this.

Truth be told, this northern thrust stemmed not just from Niu Ben and Luo Quan's barbarian-bashing dreams, but from strategies he'd plotted for ages. Rashness in battle wasn't his style.

To blunt northern perils, proactive strikes proved essential. One Tsarist Russia already vexed him plenty; toss in the Golden Tent Khanate, and the Great Yu Empire's frontiers faced endless unrest. Crucially, these foes lurked nearby, not oceans away like Britain or France.

“Long live Your Majesty, I, Qi Guangyi, greet Your Majesty.”

Upon sighting Xiao Ming, Qi Guangyi knelt and declared.

Rising from his seat, Xiao Ming approached Qi Guangyi and extended both arms to halt the bow. “I pulled you from afar this time for the northern campaign ahead. Yet prior to that, I've got a fresh cavalry arm I must hand over. I'm certain it'll thrill you.”

“A weapon!” Qi Guangyi's eyes widened at the word. Lately, his troops clamored ever louder for Han-style rifles.

He'd meant to raise the issue in court this visit.

“Indeed.” Just then, Xiao Ming lifted a rifle with a trimmed-down barrel from the desk and explained, “This carbine comes from the military works, modeled after the Han-style rifle!”