Two days later, they opened the kiln and took out the charcoal.
As several young men raked the charcoal out of the kiln, the results of Yang Zhengshan's first attempt at burning charcoal appeared before him.
Yang Minghao poked at it with a small wooden stick. "Why are some of these only half-burned?"
"Some have even burned to ash!"
It was a large pile of blackened stuff, but far less than the wood they had put in.
Yang Zhengshan also stepped forward and looked at it. Burning charcoal was like this; there would definitely be some loss, and it was skilled work besides. How much was consumed all depended on how it was handled during the firing process.
One had to judge the condition of the burning wood inside by observing the changes in the color of the smoke, and there was also skill involved in arranging the firewood inside the kiln.
Yang Zhengshan himself was not very clear on these things either, but that did not matter. As the saying went, practice made perfect.
Yang Zhengshan estimated it roughly. This batch of charcoal had lost about half in the burning.
For a first attempt at making charcoal, Yang Zhengshan was already very satisfied with such a result.
"Erhu!"
Yang Zhengshan called out to a man whose temples were frosted with gray.
"My lord!"
Li Erhu was a military household in Yinghe Fortress. When he was young, he had even served as a squad leader, but now he was old, and his eldest son had taken over for him.
"Not bad at all. From now on, you'll be in charge of the charcoal-burning work. Your wages will be thirty percent higher than theirs!" Yang Zhengshan said.
Hearing this, Li Erhu was instantly overjoyed. "Thank you for your care, my lord!"