Chapter 288

The first ship to be called a warship was completed in half a year, and it was actually a refitted vessel that had previously sailed the seas. The cannons on this warship were not its primary means of attack but rather attachments for testing cannonballs; the gun turrets themselves were designed to be removable, allowing for the convenient replacement with different turrets in the future. The ship had not ventured far from the city walls, merely sailed a short distance out to sea. Not far from the vessel, several small boats were anchored at intervals, positioned to test the power of the cannon fire.

Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan accompanied the Fourth Prince on deck, each holding a telescope to observe the proceedings. Several straw figures had been set up on the little boats floating on the water. Once the refitted ship was ready, the emperor dispatched the Fourth Prince overnight to witness the trial; Xiao, their personal attendant, waited on another unarmed ship, ready to approach the impact site as soon as a cannon was fired—whether the cannonball exploded or not, it was his job to retrieve it for analysis. Even if it did explode, they needed to examine the range and power at close quarters.

After everyone had prepared, a soldier waved his flag twice toward the gun turret. The Fourth Prince raised an eyebrow and glanced in puzzlement at Wang Xiujin, who simply shrugged. Li Linshan spoke up, “At sea, the distance between ships is too great to rely on shouting. Flag signals are much more effective; each gesture has its meaning. The one just now instructed the turret to fire.” The Fourth Prince nodded in approval at this method.

The cannonball arced high through the air and landed squarely on one of the small boats, exploding with a deafening boom. The straw figure on the boat was sent flying, and the boat itself was blown to pieces. Two neighboring boats did not escape unscathed, and those a little farther away were overturned by the shockwave. The three men on the deck were left breathless, too astonished to utter a word. Xiao, ever quick to act, ordered his boat to the scene—they needed to inspect the aftermath firsthand.

Once the three regained their composure, the Fourth Prince clapped his hands fiercely. With such devastating power, if they could sail this warship to the enemy’s harbor and bombard it day after day, perhaps they could sink their fleet altogether. As for the civilians on the island, the Fourth Prince felt no compassion—mercy to the enemy is cruelty to one’s own. He might not be the most brilliant, but he was certainly not a fool.

When Xiao’s boat returned to its original position, the soldiers waved their flags again, and the gun was rotated—this time, to test whether the cannonballs would explode upon hitting the sea. The results were excellent; as soon as the shot plunged into the water, a tremendous blast sent spray soaring, and soon a great number of fish floated to the surface. Xiao’s crew scooped up the fish, though no one knew if they were safe to eat. To avoid any risk to the people, all the fish were burned upon landing ashore.

After the cannon tests, Wang Xiujin no longer felt compelled to keep watch at the shipyard every day, but decided to send someone trustworthy to oversee the site. Turning over the options in his mind, he quickly settled on the right person and sent a letter via Manager Wang to notify him. Naturally, Wang Xiujin’s departure could not be abrupt, and Li Linshan too could not linger much longer—the emperor’s orders came one after another, summoning him back to the capital. He knew Wang Xiujin would return soon as well, so their parting was without much sentiment.

Upon returning to the capital, Li Linshan first reported the sea cannon trials to his elders, then visited his son. Remembering his promise to teach the boy martial arts, he calculated the time and patted his son’s shoulder. “From tomorrow morning, I’ll begin teaching you to practice martial arts.” Having missed his father greatly, Yachang was already delighted, and on hearing the news, he nodded vigorously, his heart brimming with excitement.

“When will Little Father come back?” Amid his joy, Yachang did not forget his other parent.

“There are still some matters to settle, but he should return in a few days,” Li Linshan replied, knowing the bond between Yachang and Wang Xiujin was particularly deep, and seeing no reason to conceal the truth. A rare smile broke across Yachang’s face, astonishing the servants in the courtyard—for ever since the young masters had left, the boy had shown little expression.

Wang Xiujin waited until his replacement arrived, carefully explained everything, and made it clear that guards from the Imperial Household and stationed soldiers were on watch. Should any suspicious characters appear, they were to be dealt with immediately. He did not linger, leaving the shipyard where he had spent over half a year. Since it was not far from the capital, he could always return; once the railroad was laid, the journey might be even shorter—though, lacking an engine, such thoughts were only idle fancy.

Back in the capital, Wang Xiujin barely had a chance to speak to his son before changing and heading to the palace to report to the emperor—a process that lasted several hours. On returning home, he visited his grandfather before finally making his way to the courtyard, where Yachang was already asleep on the soft couch. Wang Xiujin, missing his son dearly, could not help but reach out and touch him, wondering if he could still lift the boy in his arms.

He had the servants prepare Yachang’s small bed, then gently carried him over and laid him down, rubbing his arms afterward—the boy was growing heavier, and it took all Wang Xiujin’s strength to carry him those few steps. If he delayed much longer, he might only be able to tuck a blanket over his sleeping child.

Sitting at the bedside, he gazed at his son for a long while before finally rising to bathe and wash away the dust of travel. He lay down, relaxed, and soon drifted into sleep. When Li Linshan returned, the noise roused Yachang, who sat up, rubbing his eyes and pouting in disappointment—was Little Father not back yet?

Li Linshan picked up his son and placed him on the great bed. Yachang immediately crawled over to Wang Xiujin, throwing himself into his father’s arms. Wang Xiujin woke to the movement, smoothing his son’s hair. Yachang snuggled in, rolled about, overcome with excitement, calling “Little Father” again and again. Wang Xiujin tickled the boy, making him shriek with laughter.

After playing until they were both tired, Wang Xiujin pinched Yachang’s little nose. “Time for sleep. You have lessons tomorrow.” He yawned as he spoke. Yachang nodded obediently and, clutching his father’s arm, soon fell asleep.

Li Linshan watched the father and son at play, their laughter filling the room, and felt warmth suffuse his heart. Yet as he watched Wang Xiujin fall asleep holding their son, dissatisfaction flickered in Li Linshan’s eyes. He had hoped to hold Wang Xiujin himself tonight; the child missed Little Father, but so did he. Yet given the current situation, it seemed unlikely he would have Wang Xiujin to himself.

After washing away the day’s dust from the military camp, Li Linshan returned to find Wang Xiujin and Yachang already asleep. He tried to move the boy back to his small bed, but as soon as he reached out, Wang Xiujin opened his eyes and met his gaze, shaking his head. “It’s just one night, not every night—must you take him away?” Li Linshan protested silently, but Wang Xiujin closed his eyes again. Sighing in resignation, Li Linshan lay down beside them.

Wang Xiujin was awakened by a kick from Yachang. The boy, still asleep, had his head under the quilt and his feet by Wang Xiujin’s nose. Wang Xiujin grimaced, repositioned his son, and yawned. It was often said children move a lot in their sleep—he had never quite believed it until now. As soon as Wang Xiujin stirred, Li Linshan awoke as well, and after glancing at Yachang, gathered the child into his arms to prevent further disturbance.

Wang Xiujin grasped Li Linshan’s hand, his eyes crinkling with a smile, and soon drifted off. Li Linshan squeezed his hand in return, gazing at their son nestled between them, thinking it was time for the boy to sleep in his own room—the one prepared long ago now ready for use.

Wang Xiujin thought he might finally sleep through the night, but after an indeterminate time, he was awakened once more by a sturdy little foot. Looking over, he saw that while Yachang’s upper body was secured by Li Linshan, his legs were completely free. Wang Xiujin sorely regretted having stopped Li Linshan from carrying the boy back to his own bed before sleep.

That night, Wang Xiujin lost count of how many times he was kicked awake. Only after both Li Linshan and Yachang had risen did he finally fall into a sound sleep. Li Linshan took Yachang to the courtyard to practice horse stance. From the first day, Yachang never complained, always following instructions without protest, nor did he tire of the daily drills. On days when Li Linshan returned early, he would even find Yachang practicing at the Wang household. Li Linshan merely advised him to know his limits.

That morning, as they practiced, Li Linshan told Yachang he would be moving into his own room. Expecting resistance, he was even prepared to enforce it, but to his surprise, Yachang agreed immediately. Li Linshan blinked, wanting to ask more, but in the end held his tongue.

After their morning exercises, Li Linshan and his son joined Grandfather for breakfast, instructing the servants not to disturb Wang Xiujin so he could rest. The old general inquired about their training and about Yachang’s studies. The boy answered dutifully, his solemn manner reminding the old man of his own son as a child.

Wang Xiujin slept until nearly noon, woke rubbing his neck, summoned a servant for wash water, and only after asking after Li Linshan and Yachang did he plan his day: first to the Wang household to visit his mother, then to the Censorate to speak with his father, a stop at the shop, and perhaps a visit to the academy as well.

Leaving his room, he saw servants moving things into the room long prepared for his son. Wang Xiujin was curious and asked about it; the answer made him raise his brows in surprise.

Author’s note: Sneaking a break at work, completely stuck, and I have no idea how to end this story—it makes me want to cry.