Chapter 77: The Wood Peng Zone on Sand and Gravel – Part 2

–Actually, there’s a well that could be interesting,– Shiu Siuchuan said with a weird smirk, winking at Wang Chong.

Wang Chong froze for a moment, then when it clicked, his face twisted with disgust: –Ah, you mean that one? Hmph.–

–What is it?– Yang Zicang looked at them curiously.

–That’s not a well at all—it’s a cesspit.–

–A source of fertilizer, not bad in its own way, but it’s overlapped with the real product.–

Wang Chong wagged his finger and said,

–Seems like that idiot Zuo, when making the engine, went to the bathroom and didn’t wash his hands.–

–Huh?– Yang Zicang’s face stiffened.

–Ahem, Brother Yang, you know how it is here—water, paper, even leaves are scarce. That was just an accident.– Shiu Siuchuan snickered.

Already accustomed to the region’s scarcity, he just took it as an everyday joke, pulling it out now and then to regale passing folks.

Ever since that day, Master Zuo had become a celebrity within their settlement, given the title Master Dungfeast.

Yang Zicang wished he had never asked.

……

By the distant black stream, one could occasionally spy people, pail in hand, crouching or standing along its edge. Even in the dead of night, they lingered by that stream, waiting for the rare sweep of job memos to flow past.

–It’s the middle of the night, so cold, and you’re still waiting here.–

–There’s really no concept of day and night here anymore. It’s cold now, but there are fewer people; when the light gets stronger, the crowds pour in.–

If it was just for fun, Yang Zicang wouldn’t have minded squatting by the stream, waiting for rare work and manufacturing scenes. But once survival was tied to it, the scene took on a helpless air.

–Hey, have you guys seen the phantom of someone making iron pots? Urgently need it.– Two people came running from the direction of Workpen Settlement.

–Nope, that thing might not even show up for months on end.–

–I saw someone forging iron just a few minutes ago. Go chase it downstream, quick!–

Shi Siquan said cheerfully, –Hehe, the rarer items in Lethe Stream fetch better supplies. By the way, it’s getting late, Brother Yang, you should head back and rest.–

–I’ll go with you and walk around Peng Zone.–

–Eh? Outsiders like us here…–

Yang Zicang patted his own box. –Don’t these things buy me at least a bed for one night?–

……

Up ahead, a shantytown pieced together from all sorts of materials spread out like a slum. It let the wind through from every side, yet stood tenaciously on the wasteland.

This was the Refuge House Shantytown, also known simply as Peng Zone.

–Hold up, Sichuan Brother, where’d you pick up this newbie?– The burly man at the gate looked up.

On the sandy ground, Yang Zicang, dressed in clean and tidy clothes, stood out conspicuously in this environment.

–He…–

Before Wang Chong could even speak, Yang Zicang raised his hand and said, –I entered here yesterday. Could I stay with you for two days?–

–No, unless you bring a Lost Memory Moxel of a triangular grade or above—then you can stay for a month. If you don’t know what a Lost Memory Moxel is, ask the guy next to you.–

The burly gatekeeper was about to bury his head and go back to sleep when he was suddenly drawn in by the sound of Yang Zicang’s next move.

The young man outside the fence crouched down and opened his suitcase, revealing it was packed full of clothes, with a few bags of snacks and a notebook stuffed into the gaps.

–I’m only staying for two or three days. You can pick out one outfit from the clothes in here.–

–Holy shit!–

Before Yang Zicang could even explain, the man’s eyes gleamed with a green light as he darted out from behind the small fence. He crouched down and flipped through the clothes inside the suitcase with his large hands.

The honest-looking guard on the other side of the wide gate was also drawn in, stepping out while scratching his head.

–Are you serious?– He instantly took a liking to a brownish-yellow leather jacket inside the suitcase.

–And it even has a suede collar, my god!–

This guy had set his sights on the finest piece with just one glance.

–Get lost, you dead cowherd! I saw it first!–

The cowherd glared, pulling the clothes onto himself. Though it was a size too small wrapped around him, it still clung to the outlines of his shrunken, starved muscles.

–What’s all this fuss about?–

A man walked out from inside, his presence more steady and calm than the two.

–Captain Jia,– greeted a middle-aged man and Wang Chong politely.

Captain Jia glanced at the clothes in their hands, then his gaze fell on the suitcase.

–These clothes… where are they from?–

Yang Zicang smiled slightly. –One piece for one night’s stay. That works, right?–

–Huh? You serious?–

–Of course.–

Captain Jia quickly kicked each of the two in front of him, shoving them away, then gripped the collar of the brown leather jacket that the cowherd had already put on and yanked it off his back.

–Boss, I picked this one.–

–Do you even deserve to wear it? Take it off now. This one’s for the council head.–

The cowherd at the door unwillingly shed the leather jacket.

–What are you playing at, with so many clothes?–

–Going wholesale.–

–Deal is a deal. One piece for one day. The suitcase gets you two days. The snacks—uh, count for one day too. Payment made, no refunds.–

Without allowing Yang Zicang to finish speaking, Captain Jia stuffed the jumbled clothes into the box all at once and lifted it, while raising the crossbar of the fence with the other hand: –Come on in then… Wang Chong, and that other one, you should be able to squeeze an extra bed into your room, no problem.–

Wang Chong nodded knowingly.

–Alright then, by the way, what’s your name?–

As he asked, Captain Jia took a glance at the passing Yang Zicang while subconsciously wiping his hand over the small pocket on his shirt, realizing it was empty of the item, and made a motion like wiping sweat from his brow.

A cold breeze brushed past the faces of the group, and Yang Zicang replied, –My name is Jiazi Term.–

–A code name? Fine, we’ll go with that. Want me to Invest us? You can look me up if there’s trouble down the line.–

–No need for that.–

Snubbed after his goodwill, Captain Jia’s face fell with a grumpy look.

……

The room cobbled together from planks of wood soon had a large bed added, delivered by Niu Wa and the others, crowding up half the space. Three beds converged into almost a sprawling barracks, with pale red magic crystals scattered on them to keep off the chill and piles of hay.

It was quite the bargain, essentially extracting a stash of clothes without spending a dime.

–You’re supposed to sleep under just this?–

–Oi- it’s, it’s alright, this kind of grass keeps you pretty warm too.–

Shaking his head, Yang Zicang walked over to the wooden wall, pulled out some grass stuffed into the cracks between the planks, and peeked through the gap at the outside.

Near Peng Zone, two beast-like creatures resembling oxen were tied up, while in the distance, more figures could be seen by the stream.

Three pairs of eyes appeared behind the gaps between the planks.

–Tomorrow, help me find a Forgotten Spring for digging a well.–

–Wild? Yang-ge, what are you planning to do?–

Yang Zicang chuckled, –Actually, the reason why a well’s Shin Engine is so hard to make is largely because of the water source problem, right?–

–Sort of. It has a lot to do with the soil and mineral rock too—soil and rock that look similar often contain different mineral elements. Most people don’t know geography well enough to tell the difference. Without blueprints, it’s just constant trial and error with formulas.–

Everyone’s had geography class, but how many people know what kind of soil lies one meter underground in the mountains or saline-alkali land, three meters or ten meters deep, what its uses are, and where the underground spring comes from? That’s where most people are stumped.

At that moment, in Yang Zicang’s sensory vision—

{So, Mr. Zicang. This must be why only large Workpen Settlements can precisely manufacture the Shin Engine for wells.}

Hearing the voice from the other end of the Syn-Link, a warm light shone in Yang Zicang’s eyes.

In a haystack.

Wang Chong, wrapped in hay and sleeping, looked at Yang Zicang with anticipation: –Brother Yang, if you can make the Shin Engine for a water well, just in our Peng Zone, there’d be twice as many people as now.–

–But it’s not that easy to make,– another voice came from within the dried grass.

At that moment, in Yang Zicang’s sensory vision, a gentle-faced man—who had been silently listening to the introductions by Wang Chong and Shiu Siuchuan—spoke from the other end:

{Mr. ZiCang, thank you for your trust. Regarding the mineral materials you mentioned, our experts and scholars here will provide you with our full support.}

[Thanks for that. As for the Shin Engine formula, let’s start with the water well, Group Leader Li Mi.]

Li Mi, the new contact at headquarters, nodded:

{I’ll arrange it immediately. Get some good rest. Good night.}

The Syn-Link disconnected.

……

Early in the morning, Yang Zicang vaguely heard a commotion outside, and the air was thick with a dizzying stench.

[I counteracted 3.07R.]

「……」

To the people here, who already had limited Chronos, this foul smell was a disaster.

–What’s going on?–

The three of them, still drowsy, propped themselves up in bed, unconsciously huddling together against the cold.

–Did the Coldward Hearth explode again?– The faint sound of someone yelling drifted in from outside.

–They say the coating formula was wrong.–

Pushing open the door, the outside was in a hubbub. People emerged from the wooden houses, their hair disheveled and faces covered in grime. They yawned, some brushing their teeth with cups of water—the liquid inside was murky, but there was no other choice.

Between the houses lay an open space stacked with messy piles of timber. At the far end, a man was busy working, surrounded by a group of people pointing and gesturing.

–What in the hell are you making now? I feel like I’ve lost a month of my life—you gotta pay me back!–

–Pay back, my ass.–

After listening for a while, Yang Zicang finally figured out what these people were up to. The ones forming a protective circle around that man were precisely those who, hours ago, had been searching for the vanished spring water of the phantasm to forge an iron pot.

In the center, the man seated cross-legged on the ground was wearing one of the clothes Yang Zicang had brought.

–A Coldward Hearth, that’s all. Why d’you have to mess with this poisonous water?–

The man on the ground looked up and said,

–If we just want to hastily build a Coldward Hearth for heating, of course, no such fine detail is needed. But to become a supplier for Hubville and turn this place into a medium-sized settlement, how can we pull that off without something like the Shin Engine that impresses?–

–What’s the fuss about one drum of a bucket? Why make it so complicated?–

–Any fool can make a bucket—what would they need your engine for?–

–Anyway, I think any old furnace will do. Could those folks from Hubville possibly live better than the royal palace nobles, huh?–

–You don’t know jack.–

Seeing Yang Zicang and the other two approaching in new clothes—especially Yang Zicang himself, who was impeccably clean—the man sitting on the ground, tinkering with a pungent potion by the ground stove, glanced up at Yang Zicang for a moment before burying his head back in his work.

A young man squatting across from him noticed Yang Zicang, stood up, and smiled:

–Hello, Brother Jiazi? I’m Ning Yang, the Penglord here. Thank you for bringing the clothes.–

He extended a hand, and Yang Zicang shook it.

–This here is Master Zhang, a real pro at making Coldward Hearths back in the day. But you see, each piece had different folks handling it, so when it comes to the selection process…–

–It’s phosphating,– the man on the ground said without looking up.

–Oh right, the phosphating formula isn’t something I’m too familiar with, but I’m slowly figuring it out.–

–I see.– The Moxel on Yang Zicang’s chest shimmered outward.

Ning Yang, who was in the middle of introducing, froze for an instant.

Standing close by, it was easy for him to make out that shape—a polygon.

–Brother Jiazi hasn’t just arrived, has he?– Ning Yang, now blocking Yang Zicang’s path, said in a low voice.

–What makes you say that?–

Following Ning Yang’s gaze, Yang Zicang squinted into the distance. The man standing among the crowd, utterly shocked, was none other than the one he had flung more than ten meters away with a shoulder throw. Now, seeing him again, the man looked as if he had seen a ghost, pushing through the crowd and fleeing in a panic.

Ning Yang said,

–I’ve pretty much got the gist of things. Around here, Chronos symbols can’t be stolen from each other—they can only be offset. So let’s keep the peace. Brother Jiazi, you can stay here for the next two months. Oh, by the way, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let’s grab a meal together as a way to get to know each other.–

Knowing that the man before him was the Moxel, Ning Yang Penglord, who had already developed a favorable impression from Yang Zicang’s earlier gesture of giving him clothes, naturally wanted to win him over.

If his own Peng Zone could have such a master—one capable of quadrupling the Chronos presence—he would face future lost monsters or troublemakers with far more confidence from now on.