With the invitation, Wang Chong and Shiu Siuchuan naturally followed along to share in the pleasure. The other four were still unaware that Yang Zicang had arrived.
In the rock-built room, basins filled with discarded red magical crystal remnants radiated heat, though someone had already come to cover them.
During the day, the temperature here wouldn’t drop much, so these were only useful at night.
Once the meal was ready, Ning Yang said, –Ah Ya, go call Master Zhang to join us for dinner.–
–He probably stinks to high heaven right now,–
the woman in the house grumbled reluctantly, though she still stepped out to fetch the man busy concocting his potions.
The large round table was laden with a fairly hearty spread, and someone had brought out clean water in transparent glass jars.
–It’s truly rare to enjoy steaming hot meals like this here,–
–We traded resources for these from the greenhouse. This whole table costs about three-cornered Moxel,– Ning Yang said.
Yang Zicang inquired with curiosity, –So where do their vegetables and meat come from?–
Just then, having heard about the free meal, Master Zhang lifted the curtain and stepped into the stone house.
–You’re new here, I take it. Some of these vegetable seeds were bartered from Hubville, others were obtained by finding the criss-cross zones that lead here and planting the [Land-type] Shin Engine in those spots, slowing its manifestation to collect what I did.–
Master Zhang sat down beside Ning Yang. –Is this young man your friend?–
–He’s the young man who delivered the clothes yesterday, Jiazi Term, just recently admitted.–
–Oh, oh, it’s you, huh.–
Chang Yuanxin gave Yang Zicang a once-over and let out a faint shake of his head.
Even though the man was wearing his blue fleece jacket, Chang looked down on a young fellow who’d trade away life-saving supplies just for a few nights of shelter.
If it were him, he’d find some spot or another to bed down in on his own. With that much insulation along, so what if he had to rough it in the open?
Was he incapable of sleeping anywhere but that piss-p excuse for a house?
–The jacket on me right now isn’t bad though – thanks, pal ‘Next Man Walking.’–
Master Zhang sniffled, tapped his chopsticks a few times on the desktop, then started helping himself with his meal.
–It’s Jiazi Term…– Wang Chong corrected.
–No harm done. Eat, eat.–
Ning Yang, urging everyone to dig in, kept up the atmosphere around the table.
After learning that Wang Chong and Shiu Siuchuan were merely grunts who went out to forage for materials, Master Zhang dropped all pretense of concern for them.
–I once made a Coldward Hearth that was that big,– he said, gesturing with his chopsticks in the air, –but it fell out of style later on.–
–And now it’s needed again, isn’t it?– Ning Yang smiled.
–Ah, just as long as we get this potion right, with my craftsmanship—rest assured—we’ll drive those townsfolk wild.–
–That’s right. For our Peng Zone to develop, we need craftsmen like Master Zhang. I hope we can get an order letter by then.–
–So where exactly are we hitting a snag?– Yang Zicang asked.
–Some technical stuff, you wouldn’t get it.– Chang Yuanxin replied without even lifting his head.
Yang Zicang smiled, then turned to Ning Yang: –I heard Penglord is still working on building a Shin Engine for the well—is there any formless Vision of Forgetting Springs from that well left?–
Chang Yuanxin let out a snort of laughter; luckily he’d turned his head, or he would’ve spat his rice all over the table.
–Hey, you mean that thing? We’ve already given up on it—easier said than done. Maybe by chance later on. But I’ve still got some leftover Forgetful Spring water.–
–Could I have a portion?–
The visions floating on those blackwater streams come in all sorts, but if you’re looking for a specific kind, you can only spend that time getting lucky.
Even though they’d told the two last night to find the well’s vision, it was plain that with just these few hands, squating there for days might not even turn one up.
–Of course I can. But Brother Jiazi, what are you planning to do…–
–Just giving it a try.– Yang Zicang didn’t deny it.
Chang Yuanxin, wiping his mouth, smiled without a word, shook his head, and continued reaching out with chopsticks to pick up food.
–If it works out, little brother, remember to share the formula with us.–
–Hmph.–
After the meal, the woman—whose face bore traces of hardship but was still a beauty at heart—brought Yang Zicang two flat, bowl-shaped glass jars with wide openings.
Black creek water sloshed inside them. It indicated that no matter how the floating ripples shifted, they wouldn’t dispel the illusions dancing on the surface.
Spotting a boy far cleaner and more handsome than Ning Yang, the woman, not too old, tidied her hair.
–You’re Jiazi Term, right?– She took the initiative to speak. –From now on, when you get supplies, remember to keep more for yourself. Don’t take them for granted—this place is nothing like the world we used to live in.–
–Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.–
The woman gave Yang Zicang’s face a deep, lingering stare before turning and stepping inside the curtain.
After they left, Wang Chong muttered under his breath, –Aya was sold here.–
Yang Zicang let out a sigh.
–There’s nothing we can do about this kind of thing. Let’s go. We need to find new materials.–
As soon as the three of them had just left, a passerby near this house instinctively glanced at the jars Wang Chong and Shiu Siuchuan were carrying.
–Well water?– the disheveled figure muttered.
–Hey, Master Shit-toui’s finally awake, huh?–
–Screw off.–
The man spat at the feet of the one mocking him, then turned to watch Yang Zicang and the other two recede into the distance, furrowing his brow.
He was all too familiar with those jars.
–That’s quite a haul of water, two jars worth. Zicang-ge, ah, I mean Jiazi-ge, are you heading back to work out a formula?–
–I can’t wait to see Jiazi-ge build the Well Shin Engine—then we’ll see if Chang Yuanxin still has the nerve to laugh!– Wang Chong said excitedly.
–Don’t bother with that guy.– Yang Zicang had completely dismissed him from his mind.
That Master Zhang looked to be thirty or forty years old, but he’d built the Coldward Hearth residential district plains decades ago. He must be quite old by now, spend the latter half of his life in this godforsaken place.
–Pity these two jars of water aren’t enough for us to test two or three formula variants,– Shiu Siuchuan mused.
–As for the formula, we’re already onto something.– Yang Zicang offered a faint smile.
–Really?– The two both stared at him simultaneously.
Yang Zicang continued: –Next up, we’ll need some triangular Forgotten-Memory Moxel bricks. Can we get those with Chronos?–
–Of course, but the price isn’t fixed—it fluctuates wildly.–
Without a stable market, the price is essentially whatever the seller makes up, and the buyer haggles it down to the bone.
Yang Zicang’s head ached a bit. But armed with Chronos, he quickly traded 60N for two triangular Oblivion Moxels and a bonus two-sided Moxel.
News that someone in the Little Peng Zone was buying Moxels spread like wildfire.
–Hey, bro, still buying?– Four others crowded at Wang Chong’s door, holding a black glass-like cobblestone.
–Enough, I’m not buying anymore.–
–How much did they sell for? Can mine fetch twenty-nine years?–
–No need.–
–Twenty-six! I’m begging you, bro, just take it! Or we can go return the expensive one for you?– They pretended to seek out the guy who sold the triangular and two-sided Moxels for 40N.
Yang Zicang rubbed his forehead: –Fine, fine, the last one. Brother Ning is a friend of mine—don’t stir up trouble for me.–
–Thanks, bro! Thanks!– Wang Chong returned twenty-five years of Chronos to this man.
Those nearby, seeing the price so low, hesitated and became reluctant to sell. In the larger Peng Zones, such Moxels could at least fetch thirty to thirty-five years or more, with prices soaring if a Peng Zone was developing a new engine.
In the distance, a disheveled man took in the entire scene.
……
Next, Yang Zicang did not go looking for materials, but instead spent the entire day lingering around Peng Zone with the six people he had met the day before.
It was as if buying those Forgetfulness Moxels in the morning had been merely a whim.
This left Zuo Feixian, who was secretly keeping an eye on them, feeling slightly puzzled.
He had previously judged from Penglord’s courteous demeanor toward this man that the kid was no ordinary fellow—likely possessing a unique skill or a knack for fighting.
Yet, here he was, wasting the whole day loafing with these clowns like some common thug.
Could it be that these people weren’t actually making the well Shin Engine?
He frowned; seven grown men wouldn’t even need a day just to dig up some dirt.
……
At night, Yang Zicang finally led the group with some water to a distant spot, picked a place, and sat with them chatting aimlessly, yapping for five or six hours straight.
Exhausted, Zuo Feixian had long dozed off behind a mound of earth far away, his snoring audible from a distance.
Yang Zicang glanced in that direction, rose to his feet, and said, –The materials should be ready. I’ll go fetch them and be right back. Wait for me, everyone.–
Amid the chaotic, swirling night wind, a train sped through the air, carrying Yang Zicang away.
In less than half an hour, the train slowly came to a halt at the platform behind Wang Chong.
–Help me move this stuff, and be careful not to mess up the order.–
Several people shook the drowsy Wang Chong awake, climbing into the vehicle with excitement and envy, looking around as they carefully unloaded the prepared piles of soil and ore.
The boxes were marked with numbers indicating the order from top to bottom; the larger the number, the heavier the moisture content in the soil inside.
This was material brought back by headquarters personnel from real wells, extracted layer by layer, and refined with the help of experienced geologists. Based on their deductions, a Shin Engine built with these materials would yield a well containing high-quality natural deep mineral water.
–Brother Yang, these boxes smell a bit off?– someone pointed to a few boxes and asked.
–Oh, that’s the coating agent. It’s not very toxic—just handle it with care.–
–Also, are these the materials for the Coldward Hearth? Wait, Brother Yang, you didn’t actually dismantle a Coldward Hearth, did you?–
–Mm-hm.–
Amid a cluttered pile of steel pipes, the crowd took a few steps back in shock—this didn’t match their impression of a Coldward Hearth at all.
–Will it spawn nightmares?–
–With me around, rest assured.–
As the canopy was set up, Yang Zicang asked, –Do you know how blueprints are made?–
–You need to find something from the interlaced landscape within the barrier. Making blueprints is highly dependent on luck.–
Realizing he couldn’t make a well blueprint, Yang Zicang, standing on the wasteland, asked, –Ready?–
–Of course, of course – we’ve got your back, Brother Yang.–
–When Brother Jiazi says hand over materials next time, we’ll pass exactly what’s needed. No mistakes, guaranteed.–
Yet on the other end of Yang Zicang’s Syn-Link, several middle-aged men with sharp, spirited looks nodded from a black leather sofa.
{We’re ready too.}
{Come on, young fella – it’s time for us old-timers to shine.}
{With Professor Zhao’s annotations, Little Yang’s definitely got this.}
Yang Zicang said, –With everyone watching over me, I feel more at ease.–
Across from him, the group nodded with relief, fully aware that their role by now was minimal – this youth just wanted them to witness the final realization of the day’s hard work they’d all poured in.
These people were utterly lost about their own worth; some of their Moxels were ordinary, others utterly useless, and simply being alive felt like a miracle.
But now, finally, they felt they were still –useful.–
–I’m starting.–
With them around, Yang Zicang felt emboldened. He stepped into the handcrafted shed and gazed at the vague chaos of light slowly enveloping him.
Outside the shed, a few construction wastelanders acting as assistants cautiously handed in yellow and blue magical crystals.
They all rolled up their sleeves and thoroughly scrubbed their arms, fearing that debris from dirty clothes might drift into the shed and end up embedded in the engine.
Yang Zicang placed the Moxel of Lost Memories before him.
–First, the River of Oblivion.–
He removed the lid from the Well of Oblivion Spring. As the Moxel shimmered and gathered into his hand, he pointed at the water, which flickered in illusion, appearing as if scooping out a –circular pit.–
Beneath the shimmer of the magical crystals, most of the spring water transformed into dark gray energy, converging before Yang Zicang into a small hovering orb of light.
Within the orb of light emerged a blurry silhouette of a figure digging a pit in the ground.
The staff back at headquarters marveled at how just the mere gesture of the young man’s hand could conjure such vivid imagery.
{_ In theory, it would be simplest to just place the bottom soil of the well first, but in reality, to prevent the well from becoming waterlogged or turning into a dry well due to shifts in watercourses, the selection of the site for the groundwater system demands great precision. Although there’s no need for an extensive network of waterways here, preventing waterlogging remains key. _}
{_ Thus, he that is well prepared has no regrets. The tenth and largest box contains our custom-formulated rock deconstruction magic lock; check if it remained intact and hasn’t shifted during transport. _}
–Open box ten. Bring it in softly,– called out Yang Zicang. From outside, two men carefully carried the heavy crate into the construction shed.
Through the side, Yang Zicang indeed saw a well-organized rock formation with varying layers, all soaked in clean spring water. Even this task alone would take no less than an hour or two, and everyone was truly giving their full support to him.
{No problem, same as before.} One of them said with a sigh of relief.
A warmth surged in Yang Zicang’s heart—these people had achieved such results in just a single day.
He lightly tapped with his finger, and the magic crystal radiated a brilliant light. The chaotic mass of energy became denser, as if invisible hands were drawing it together from all sides, gathering it into the bright orb.
{Next is the bottommost soil of the well from Storage Box Nine.}
One member of the expert team spoke.
–Box Nine.– Yang Zicang called out over his shoulder. The people outside carefully lifted the lid of box marked –9– and handed it in.
Yang Zicang, with glowing lines rippling along his fingers, tapped inside the box. Instantly, the top layer of clear spring water, the mid-layer with stones, and the bottom layer of ore-rich soil transformed into a pale brown energy, drifting into the floating light orb.
Leave a Reply