Bazhou, the Jincheng Armory shooting range.
The morning mist had not yet completely dissipated, but the shooting range was already a hive of activity. Craftsmen pushed wooden carts laden with new-style rifles, their metal parts glinting with a cold, sharp light in the morning sun. Xia Huai'an stood on the observation platform, his fingers tapping lightly on the railing as his gaze swept over the rows of newly manufactured rifles fresh from the production line—their barrels straight and stocks smooth, each one as exquisite as a work of art.
"Master, the rifling precision of this new batch of rifles is twenty percent higher than the last," said Yang Tieshan, the director of the armory, hurrying over with beads of sweat still glistening on his forehead. He held a rifle reverently in both hands, its receiver gleaming with a faint blue luster under the sunlight. "Li Jinsong has improved the cold-swaging process. Where it used to take ten attempts to successfully press one qualified steel tube, now we can successfully press three or four out of ten."
Chapter 221