Wei Yuan had heard Xu Wenwu go on about firearms what seemed like countless times, and his ears had grown calluses from it. And while the others might be in contact with Xu Wenwu for the first time, thanks to Bao Yun's high-pressure dictation of thirty thousand words a day, Xu Wenwu had already revealed enough content that the others' knowledge was not much less than Wei Yuan's.
In Wei Yuan's understanding, the principle of firearms was very simple. So, he found a stone within his Dao Foundation, casually squeezed it into a long tube, sealed one end, and then materialized it.
Looking at the stone tube, about eight inches thick, with a hand-sized, pitch-black muzzle and a body length of over five feet, Xiao Yu asked, "Is this a gun?"
"It is a gun!" Wei Yuan affirmed with certainty.
"Alright, if you say it's a gun, then it's a gun!" Xiao Yu shrugged, deciding not to argue with Wei Yuan.