Chapter 100: Fossil Relics

“Leave quickly—I’m not open for business today.”
Su Qing, unconcerned about the other boss outside the shop, stretched out a hand in a leather glove to pick up an ore bearing fossil traces, preparing to toss it in.
“If I were you, I would put that down.”
Yang Zicang stepped onto the stone steps, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded, watching him.
Su Qing shot a glance at the kid and let out a scornful chuckle.
Before entering the shop owner’s body, he had deliberately asked Su Qing about the man’s memories, prompting a quick recollection and successfully obtaining the memory images of making the relic engine. That was exactly how the man had crafted the engine back then.
Though the items were different, the fossils were relatively complete, and with the procedure correct, the outcome naturally shouldn’t have gone wrong.
Yet, as he tossed that piece of fossil into the light cluster, it suddenly burst with a bang, scattering a pile of shattered stones across the ground.
……
Su Qing was stunned for a moment, muttering to himself.
“How could this be? That’s clearly how they did it.”
After all, hadn’t he taken such a huge risk to come here just to master the crafting method for this thing?
Seeing his expression, Yang Zicang knew the information he’d obtained was missing a key part. Even in Ma Chao’s usual territory, this detail was highly classified.
The fake Su Qing turned his head to look at Yang Zicang: “How did you know I would fail?”
Su Qing outside the shop seized the moment while the two were talking to duck behind a towering tree and hurriedly sprint out of the woods.
“Because you merely pieced together the fossil,” Yang Zicang said with a shrug, spreading his hands. “Have you ever seen a fossil of a man-made object? I mean, back in our hometown, in the old days.”
Inside the room, Su Qing narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Are you trying to say that clothes or cured meat can become fossils? Hah, how many years have Earth humans even existed for?”
Xu Xiuchuan pondered from the side and remarked:
“But… back in school, I did come across some reading material about how, in some coalmines, there were hammers and nails from tens of millions of years ago.”
“Right, right. I’ve heard of news like that too,” Zuo Feixian nodded.
Yang Zicang smiled and said, “So you see, what gets preserved are things like iron tools. Even ancient biological fossils are mostly bones, dinosaur eggs, and some body contours, correct? Now, what do you have in your hand?”
Su Qing glanced down at the fragments of the fossil on the ground.
It was a wooden rod.
Largely fragile, it was encased in a hard stone cavity. On the ground also lay wooden strips that Su Qing had just cut, placed there to substitute the part of the fossil that was once wood.
Yang Zicang raised a finger and explained:
“Most man-made objects are made from decomposable materials, like cloth, leather, and the wood you’ve got there. The fact that you can see this at all—first, it owes thanks to being a cast fossil; second, it owes thanks to the energy its original maker imbued it with, which allowed it to survive the erosion of time and not break down too quickly.”
Su Qing turned to look at the young man. “You seem quite knowledgeable about this.”
And what YangZicang was merely repeating was Ma Chao’s labor achievement.
“A cast fossil is formed when a hard object dissolves over a long period of time, and other substances fill in the space to create a fossil that matches the original object’s shape.”
So that’s how it was, Su Qing suddenly understood. The wood only retained its shape; the material inside it was long replaced by something else, no longer the original timber.
Su Qing’s expression shifted uneasily. Having to study the original material through fossil residues would be such a hassle.
“May I ask your name?”
“I am Jia Zijian.”
A gleam flashed in his eyes: “So you’re Jia Zijian? Sir, could you please make me a Spirit-Draining Engine? I can offer you compensation.”
The others all looked at him strangely.
“Have you heard of me?”
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from the wall: “Wow, you guys are so fast!”
The two who had been kicked out earlier stuck their heads out from the other side of the room, swaggering out from behind the wall with bags in hand.
“Oh, you two little eavesdroppers as thieves.”
“Don’t blame us wrongly. We’re all from Earth.”
“Yeah, you’re the thief,” the assistant said, only to have his hand slapped on the head by his Teacher Chen.
The two straightened their somewhat messy clothes, picked up the case, and walked to the door.
“Oh ho, this is an automatic-type work shed, isn’t it? With this house, we can save a lot of effort.”
Teacher Chen was overjoyed, his confidence soaring.
After crafting one or two Oblivion Engines in a manual workshop, it was as if he had pulled an all-nighter, draining a significant amount of mental energy. But with this room, this concern was no longer an issue.
“Boss, I hear you’re the most skilled master here. I have an ancient formula with me—though it lacks any fossils, I believe it’s already complete. Yet I’ve never been able to make it work. Could you take a look? I have the materials.”
The assistant, from behind, tugged at the teacher’s clothes and said, “Teacher Chen.”
Teacher Chen ignored him, focusing intently on introducing his magical artifact research experience to the person inside the shop, completely oblivious to the subtle, awkward tension between the shop owner and Yang Zicang.
“Old Chen!” the assistant exclaimed in exasperation. “We don’t have many materials left. Don’t mess around anymore, okay?”
“What do you know? After all this time here, I’ve never seen a shop with an automatic workshop. Materials are nothing. Even if we fail, we can still gain more lessons from it, right?”
“Do you think those materials just come running to you on their own?”
“Don’t they?”
The assistant nearly kicked him: “They were all painstakingly dug up by me, your student, alright!”
“You all have fossil relic formulas too?” Su Qing, who had initially wanted to send the two away, instead let them in.
“Haha, that’s right, that’s right. Here’s the formula.”
Once inside, Teacher Chen handed over a piece of paper bearing the formula for making Oblivion Engines. The impostor Su Qing gave it a brief glance and then passed the paper directly to Yang Zicang.
“Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? This can’t just be shown to anyone!”
Teacher Chen stood up, intending to snatch the recipe sheet belonging to him from the material shop owner.
The moment he reached out, Su Qing flicked her wrist, swept between his hands, folded the paper, and flicked it toward the door. The sheet landed steadily between Yang Zicang’s fingers. This scene stirred a subtle ripple among the onlookers.
“Impressive,” Little Liu remarked, watching Yang Zicang catch it with ease, his eyes darting between the proprietor and the man. With this single move, both exuded an aura of masters, like an inadvertent clash between martial arts experts.
Yang Zicang merely glanced at it, while Su Qing spread her palm toward the items on the floor belonging to Teacher Chen and said, “The materials happen to be here, Brother Jiazi. Please.”
Was it to confirm whether I could actually build the engine? Where on earth had this person heard about me…
“You, how dare you!” Teacher Chen pointed at Su Qing’s nose. “I came looking for you, and you let an outsider peek at my formula and meddle with my materials? What’s the meaning of this? Is this how you do business?”
Su Qing suddenly turned her head, a flash of ferocity in her eyes, before reining in her aggressive aura and forcing a smile. “Don’t be so ignorant of greatness. This gentleman before you is someone you’d normally never find even with a lantern.”
Yang Zicang narrowed his eyes slightly.
Strange… Could it be that he had come in from Hinge Town? But my fame had only skyrocketed yesterday.
Or was it from whispers in Ning Yang’s shantytown? Something felt off.
Teacher Chen turned his head to look at the trio.
One who was disheveled but looked smug, another who seemed like a fool brewing mischief; only the person in front was barely presentable, but still not much better than the students he had taught. Though there was a hint of mastery about him, a naivety beneath the surface remained something not yet lived through.
“So, you’re an expert, are you? Then do it, Master Dong.”
The instructor took a step back, yielding the spot to Yang Zicang.
“If I make it, who gets the credit?” Yang Zicang turned to the instructor.
“Hah, fine, it’s yours. After all, cracking the formula is what matters most.”
Yang Zicang nodded.
Ma Chao had also come across this formula; it was quite popular within his clandestine circle. Everyone knew parts of it, yet none had successfully turned it into high-grade flame-attributed equipment.
The formula the instructor held was a watered-down version missing other essential info—no, it had been diluted even further from that, likely acquired from some peripheral trader.
Yang Zicang crouched down to examine the cast metal plates, the polished crystals, and the leather materials. They had already been infused with magical energy by the two using magic stones.
“I’m missing some materials. Can I go into your storeroom to choose?”
“Of course.”
As Yang Zicang walked toward the storeroom in the back, he passed the counter and glimpsed scattered bloodstains on the floor, along with a crumpled set of clothes hastily stuffed under the counter.