A large worktable stood at the center, cluttered with blueprints, wooden components, and a half-assembled crossbow. Uncle Qian, his sleeves rolled up, examined the mechanism with furrowed brows, while Wen Tao carefully adjusted the bowstring tension.
"Zhao Ming, you're here," Uncle Qian greeted, setting down a wooden shaft. "Just in time. We’ve made some progress."
Zhao Ming approached, his gaze falling on the modified crossbow. "How far have you gotten?"
Wen Tao exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’ve managed to make it fire twice in succession, but the third shot keeps getting jammed. The mechanism doesn’t cycle properly, and the arrows misalign after the second shot."
Zhao Ming reached for the crossbow, inspecting it closely. His [Insight] activated, breaking down the weapon’s mechanics in his mind, analyzing its structure. The [Weapon Design] assistant provided an overlay in his thoughts—a diagram of how the repeating crossbow should ideally function.
"The issue is with the arrow-feeding mechanism," Zhao Ming said after a moment, setting the crossbow back down. "Right now, the arrows don’t move into position smoothly. The alignment is slightly off, causing the third shot to jam. We need a better feeding solution—something that keeps the arrows stable while ensuring the next one drops into place correctly."
Uncle Qian stroked his beard, nodding slowly. "That does make sense… But how do we do that? The current slot isn't guiding the arrows properly."
Wen Tao tapped his fingers against the table in thought. "Maybe if we adjust the magazine shape? Or add a guiding track for the arrows?"
Zhao Ming nodded. "A guide rail might help, or a small spring mechanism that pushes the next arrow into place smoothly. If the arrows don’t move at the right angle, they’ll get caught before firing."
Uncle Qian exchanged a look with Wen Tao before grinning. "I think that could work. It'll take some experimenting, but it’s worth trying. If we can get the feeding mechanism to function correctly, we should be able to fire three or more shots in quick succession."
Wen Tao rubbed his hands together, looking excited. "Let’s get to work on a prototype."
Zhao Ming watched as they quickly began sketching out modifications, discussing different materials and mechanics that could improve the design. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction—this wasn’t just about making a weapon; it was about innovation, about pushing the limits of what was possible.
Just as they were deep in discussion, a knock sounded at the workshop’s entrance. A servant stepped inside, bowing respectfully.
"Young Master Zhao," the servant said. "Shopkeeper Wu has just returned and is looking for you."
Zhao Ming exchanged glances with Uncle Qian and Wen Tao before nodding. "Understood. Keep working on the design. I'll check in again later."
With that, he turned and strode out of the workshop, already wondering what news Shopkeeper Wu had brought back.
When Zhao Ming arrived at the main hall of Murong Trading House, he found Shopkeeper Wu in the middle of overseeing an incoming shipment of grain. Large sacks were being carried inside by workers, their movements swift and efficient despite the weight. The air was thick with the scent of rice and wheat, mingling with the occasional grunt of laborers unloading the cargo.
Shopkeeper Wu, standing near the entrance with his hands behind his back, caught sight of Zhao Ming and greeted him with a nod.
"You're just in time," he said, watching as the workers arranged the grains into neat stacks. "We’ve got a busy day ahead, but that’s not the only news I have for you."
Zhao Ming arched an eyebrow. "What happened?"
Shopkeeper Wu exhaled, lowering his voice as he gestured for Zhao Ming to step aside. "Murong De sent word—he’ll be back in the next few days. He’s bringing more guards from the main house."
Zhao Ming folded his arms, considering the implications. "That should be a good thing, right? More protection for the trading house and the settlement."
Shopkeeper Wu let out a dry chuckle. "In theory, yes. But knowing the Murong family’s internal politics, things won’t be that simple." His expression turned slightly sour. "It seems Murong Jin’s brothers pushed for sending extra men. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was an excuse to interfere."
Zhao Ming frowned. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the Murong family’s internal disputes, but this timing was inconvenient. "You think they’ll try to take control of things here?"
Shopkeeper Wu sighed, rubbing his temple. "Hard to say. Murong De is respected, but the other family branches never miss a chance to test boundaries. They might frame it as ‘helping’ while finding ways to undermine him."
Zhao Ming’s gaze sharpened. The Murong Trading House had been a strong ally in supporting the settlement and handling sensitive matters like the repeating crossbow project. If someone from Murong Jin’s side tried to interfere, it could complicate things—especially with the political undercurrents already brewing in Luoyang and Beihai.
"Then we need to be ready," Zhao Ming said finally. "If they’re sending extra people, we’ll have to figure out their intentions fast. Otherwise, this might turn into an internal struggle instead of actual support."
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Shopkeeper Wu nodded. "That’s the smart approach. For now, let’s wait and see what Murong De says when he arrives. But don’t be surprised if we have to deal with a few unwelcome hands trying to grab more than they should."
Zhao Ming smirked. "That seems to be a pattern these days."
With that, they turned their attention back to the ongoing work, but Zhao Ming’s mind was already calculating the next move. The arrival of reinforcements could either be a blessing—or a new headache
As the shipment of grain was gradually being organized, Shopkeeper Wu took this chance to lean against one of the wooden beams, crossing his arms as he regarded Zhao Ming with a thoughtful expression.
"You know, since we're talking about Murong De and the reinforcements, it’s probably a good time for you to understand more about the Murong family itself," Shopkeeper Wu began.
Zhao Ming, always keen on gathering useful information, nodded. "Go on."
Shopkeeper Wu took a deep breath before continuing.
"The Murong family is one of the martial clans based in Xuchang. Their reputation comes from their strong warriors and connections with the Han court. While not one of the most powerful noble houses, they are still a force to be reckoned with, especially when it comes to military matters."
Zhao Ming raised an eyebrow. "A martial clan that has ties with the court? That explains their influence, but also why they might be divided internally."
Shopkeeper Wu chuckled. "Exactly. The current patriarch is Murong Xuan, and under him are his three sons:
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Murong Heng – the eldest, the heir of the Murong family.
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Murong Jin – the second son, the father of Murong Xue.
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Murong Rui – the third son, the black sheep of the family."
Zhao Ming listened carefully, committing the details to memory.
"Murong Heng is a strong warrior and an excellent leader," Shopkeeper Wu continued. "He's been trained to take over since he was young, and so far, he has done well to maintain the family's reputation. His loyalty to the Han dynasty is unquestionable, but that also means he's too rigid at times—he won’t stray from traditional ways."
Zhao Ming tapped his fingers against his arm. "And Murong Jin? Since he’s handling trade, I assume he's not as involved in military matters?"
"Right," Shopkeeper Wu confirmed. "Murong Jin chose to leave the main house and focus on managing trade. That’s how the Murong Trading House came to be. The family needed someone to oversee their business ventures and merchant networks, and Murong Jin took that role. However, since he's not handling military affairs, some in the family look down on him—as if he’s just a businessman instead of a Murong warrior."
Zhao Ming frowned slightly. "That seems shortsighted. Wealth and supply chains are just as crucial as soldiers in times of war."
"Exactly," Shopkeeper Wu agreed. "But Murong Heng and Murong Jin rarely see eye to eye. And then there's the third brother—Murong Rui. Unlike the other two, he doesn’t contribute anything. He’s lazy, always scheming, and loves surrounding himself with the worst kind of noble brats—troublemakers who have more power than sense."
Zhao Ming exhaled. "So he’s the type who stirs trouble but never actually does anything himself?"
"That’s right," Shopkeeper Wu said with a sigh. "Murong Rui is jealous of his brothers, but instead of trying to prove himself, he plays petty tricks. He sticks close to troublesome noble sons and loves to gossip and scheme. He’s more of a nuisance than a real threat, but he has the habit of making things more complicated than they need to be."
Zhao Ming nodded, piecing things together. "So if Murong Jin’s side is sending reinforcements, there’s a chance Murong Rui or his allies might be involved."
Shopkeeper Wu rubbed his chin. "Possibly. If they pushed for extra men, there might be more than just protection at play. They might be trying to meddle in Murong Jin’s business or even cause problems for Murong De. At the very least, it means they have an interest in what’s happening here."
Zhao Ming considered the situation carefully. If the Murong Trading House was being watched more closely by rival factions within the Murong family, then his work with them—whether it was the settlement, trade, or weapon development—could come under scrutiny.
"I’ll keep that in mind," Zhao Ming said at last. "We should be prepared in case their involvement causes unnecessary problems."
Shopkeeper Wu smiled, pleased with Zhao Ming’s sharp thinking. "That’s the right mindset. With the Murong family, you never know when politics will get in the way of business."
Zhao Ming smirked. "I’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t."
As the conversation shifted from the Murong family’s internal politics, Zhao Ming brought up another pressing matter—the settlement of refugees on the Eastern Hill of Beihai.
“By the way, about the settlement,” Zhao Ming began, folding his arms as he leaned against the wooden counter. “Now that things have stabilized, Xu Liang and the others mentioned they’re able to sustain themselves. Some even asked if they could sell extra food and furs for money.”
Shopkeeper Wu nodded slowly, already expecting this topic to come up. “That’s good to hear. If they’ve reached the point where they want to trade, it means they’re no longer just surviving—they’re building a livelihood.”
Zhao Ming agreed. “Exactly. But this also raises another question—the land ownership. The settlement is technically on Murong Trading House’s property. If they want to stay permanently, we need to decide how to handle it.”
Shopkeeper Wu sighed, rubbing his temples. “Right, I’ve been thinking about that too. The way I see it, we should let them stay, but with clear terms.”
Zhao Ming raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
Shopkeeper Wu’s expression became serious. “They need to sign a contract. The land still belongs to Murong Trading House, and if they want to live there, they should do so under a rental system.”
“A rental agreement?” Zhao Ming repeated, considering the implications.
“Exactly. That way, it’s clear to everyone that the land isn’t theirs,” Shopkeeper Wu explained. “They can live there, farm, hunt, or trade, but it must be on record that they are renting the land, not owning it. If they don’t like it, they can move back to the refugee camp or find another place to settle.”
Zhao Ming thought about it for a moment before nodding. “That’s reasonable. It makes sure they don’t take anything for granted. And it also protects Murong Trading House from disputes in the future. If we leave it vague, they might start thinking they have a claim over the land.”
Shopkeeper Wu smirked. “Exactly. We’ve both seen what happens when land disputes arise—people start thinking they have the right to something just because they lived on it long enough. Before you know it, they start saying it’s theirs by right, and suddenly, you’ve got a whole legal mess on your hands.”
Zhao Ming chuckled. “And the last thing we want is for Governor Kong or some court official to step in and force us into some kind of land dispute.”
“Exactly,” Shopkeeper Wu said. “This way, they get a chance at a stable life, and we get a clear agreement. We’re not being cruel—we’re giving them a fair deal. If they want security, they can stay. If they don’t like the arrangement, they are free to leave.”
Zhao Ming exhaled. “I’ll make sure Xu Liang understands this. He’s sensible, and he’ll make sure the others know that nothing in life comes for free.”
Shopkeeper Wu nodded approvingly. “Good. Then once Murong De arrives, we can make the arrangements official. In the meantime, we should draft the contract terms so that when the time comes, everything is in order.”
At that moment, a servant hurried into the room and respectfully bowed toward Zhao Ming.
“Young Master Zhao, Governor Kong has sent a message. He can meet you tomorrow at his office.”
Zhao Ming straightened, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Good. Then I’ll prepare what I need for the meeting.”
Shopkeeper Wu smirked. “Just remember—Governors are politicians first, officials second. Whatever he says, always think about what he isn’t saying.”
Zhao Ming chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”