Lord of the Desert

Chapter 210 Sand Casting
The next day, May 27.

Heat fumigation.

The blazing sun shines down from the sky, burning the green tiles.

Hong Qi reluctantly walks out of the shady stable with a bag of waste from winning the nobles, and is led out of Chaori Mansion by his master.

Taking advantage of Hong Pan's relationship, Hong Fan found a blacksmith's shop in Xijing, where he lived, and borrowed a small blast furnace.

Hot weather.

Even hotter is a charcoal fire.

In the furnace room, two shirtless apprentices pumped the bellows with all their strength, sweating profusely all over their bodies.

In their envious eyes, Hong Fan in military uniform was standing peacefully facing the mouth of the furnace.

When Yanliu Kungfu is practiced to the middle stage of Huran, the true energy can reach a high temperature of [-] degrees.

That's why Hong Fan took the scorching heat for nothing, and even though he was wearing a formal suit, he didn't sweat a single drop.

After a while, the golden-red molten iron boiled out.

Hong Fan thanked several helpers with broken silver, cleared the room, and started the final casting work.

This step is the easiest.

Hong Fan photographed a large strand of barren sand from outside the door, converging into a spoon shape.

Then he controlled the sand spoon to insert into the molten iron, scooping up a ball of gold liquid.

Metal casting is said to be pouring molten iron into a mold, but in fact there are many difficulties.

For example, surface defects, holes, cracks, segregation (inhomogeneous distribution during crystallization), etc., need to take into account size effects and issues such as solidification, shrinkage, and stress.

For a local blacksmith, even with the high-precision drawings provided by Hong Fan, it is impossible to cast a usable high-precision separator.

But in front of Sand World, these are not problems.

The barren sand deformed, wrapped the molten iron, and then gradually extended.

The sand shell is so thin that you can see the color of the fire (the melting point of sand is two hundred degrees higher than that of iron).

Under Hong Fan's control, the shape of the separator was quickly completed.

There are no cavities, no stagnation, because the mold is alive.

Under the restraint and guidance of the sand, Hong Fan knows exactly where the molten iron goes and whether it fits the surface.

Then, he selectively took the castings away from the molten iron furnace to control the cooling and stage cooling to prevent shrinkage defects (the density of molten iron is 7.13, and that of iron is 7.8).

After a while, the whole process is over.

Hong Fan wiped his sweat and removed the fine sand.

The one-piece complete hydrocyclone sits firmly on the stone platform.

No welding needed, not a single screw or rivet, as if the steel was born that way.

Hong Fan stepped forward to check carefully and confirmed that there were no defects inside and outside the instrument, only some of the surface was slightly rough.

Next comes sanding.

The fine sand makes up the grinding wheel, which whirls in the air and creates a large bunch of sparks.

After half a quarter of an hour, all surfaces of the separator have been treated, and the light can be seen.

Everything is going smooth.

Hong Fan brought the bag of scraps for final inspection.

Take clear water from the water tank in the furnace room, and then distill it on-site with sand as the urn and the flaming real energy as the fire.

Pour lavender mottled waste powder into purified water and stir to form a uniform suspension.

Then pour into the feed port.

Hong Fan turned the handle to drive the impeller.

The rush of water could not cover the sound of his heartbeat.

The first filtration was completed quickly, and a lot of wet sawdust fell into the ash hopper below the separator.

But this is not enough.

Repeatedly dissolved and separated with pure water three times, and finally evaporated to dryness to leave a powder with a uniform color, which is better than the product made in the sand mold yesterday.

"call."

Hong Fan breathed a sigh of relief, and carefully wrapped Duo Zhuzi with clean white silk.

He wrapped the separator with sackcloth until the shape could not be seen, then took it out of the furnace room and put it on the back of the red flag.

Thanks to the owner of the blacksmith shop, one person and one horse took to the street.

It was close to noon at this time, but the sun was not as warm as before.

The thick cloud giant came over the sky of Xijing, bringing with it the thunder and lightning that it grazed.

bang...

The heavy rain poured down instantly.

Residents cursed to collect stalls, collect clothes, and close windows.

Passers-by without umbrellas hurriedly searched for enough rain canopies to take shelter.

Looking at the long street, only the red flag and its owner are in the same pace.

Hong Fan covered his chest, condensed sand to protect the white silk.

wow...

The heavy rain is like white gas transpiring from the ground, ignorantly isolating the world.

Hong Fan walked in the rain, listening to the white noise that alienated everything in his ears, and his brain, which had been tense for several days, finally completely relaxed.

People walk on the street, but their hearts fly out of Xijing.

According to the letter received yesterday, Aunt Liu and Tang Daguo had already left Jinhai in a Bentley.

Soon, Asahi Mansion will truly be home.

Soon, Jin Haihong will no longer worry about Xisui Pill.

······
May 28.

He Zhixin, who has always been busy with his affairs, seldom slept in.

At the beginning of Sishi (nine o'clock in the morning), he stretched his waist and walked to the outer hall wearing clogs, and sat down cross-legged on a single cushioned seat.

The maid handed over a bristle ivory-handled toothbrush that was dipped in Gastrodia agarwood powder.

He took it, rinsed his mouth with tea, and started brushing his teeth.

At this time, He Zhixin saw a white silk package on the single-seat table, and the fold was sealed with wax.

"What, neither fish nor fowl."

He frowned and muttered, and asked.

"Where did this come from?"

"It was sent back by the guest you saw last time."

Chang Sui, who was waiting outside the door, bowed and replied.

"Oh."

He Zhixin made a fuzzy sound, and while brushing his teeth, he unwrapped the layered silk cloth.

Some fine powder was exposed inside.

Lavender, very pure.

"what?"

He Zhixin slightly mobilized his mind that was still idling just after waking up, and twisted the powder with his hands.

The tentacles are not as soft and glutinous as flour, but have a tingling feeling from extremely tiny grains.

He Zhixin's expression turned serious.

"You just said, who sent this thing?"

He suddenly raised his head and asked, with a correct accent.

"Young Master Hong Fanhong in Xijing City, the one you received before."

Often follow back.

He Zhixin was completely stunned.

After a moment, he took a deep breath, carefully twisted some crystal powder, smelled it first and then tasted it.

pat.

The expensive ivory toothbrush fell to the ground, which made the maid's heart ache.

But He Zhixin didn't realize it. Instead, he swallowed unconsciously and swallowed most of the toothbrush powder.

He couldn't even care about the nausea anymore.

"Xiao Liu, come here!"

He Zhixin ordered.

It was rare for Chang Sui outside the door to see the master so cautious, so he hurried over with small steps.

"Do you smell anything?"

He Zhixin put his fingers covered in crystal powder to his nose.

"No, no..."

Xiao Liu replied.

"No?!"

He Zhixin gave a low drink, seemingly surprised and delighted.

But Chang Sui was taken aback, so he had to sniff and make another judgment.

"Ah, no? Well, it seems that there are..."

"Is there any?"

He Zhixin asked in a deep voice.

"Is there any smell of cicada Wuming?!"

"Second Master, I didn't smell the cicada's song, but it smelled sour and honeyed..."

Xiao Liu carefully judged, and was so anxious that he was about to cry.

"You have a broken nose."

He Zhixin sneered and calmed down.

"The sour smell is gastrodia elata, and the honey fragrance is agarwood!"

"I'm determined not to have the woody fragrance of Cicada Wuming..."

He muttered to himself, covered the white silk back, and ordered.

"Get me a car!"

As soon as Xiaoliu Deling left the door, he was stopped again.

"No, don't want a car, prepare a horse for me, I want the fastest!"

He Zhixinji finished speaking like a storm, picked up his wooden clogs, and rushed back to the room regardless of whether they were turned left or right.

(End of this chapter)