Chapter 81: The Grand Ambitions of a Small Camp

Inside the haystack.
Sleeping in the straw, Wang Chong looked at Yang Zicang expectantly: “If you, Brother Yang, could make the well’s Forgetting Engine, take our camp for example, there would be twice as many people as now.”
“But it’s not that easy.” Another voice spoke from within the dry grass.
At that moment, in Yang Zicang’s sensory vision, a gentle-faced man who had been listening synchronously to introductions from Wang Chong and Xu Xiuchuan spoke from the other end:
{Mr. Zicang, thank you for your trust in us. Regarding the mineral material issue you mentioned, our experts and scholars here will provide you with full assistance.}
[Thank you. As for the formula for the Espression Engine, let’s start with the well, Team Leader Li Mi.]
The new liaison from headquarters, named Li Mi, nodded:
{I will make arrangements immediately. Rest well. Good night.}
The mental link was disconnected.
……
Early in the morning, Yang Zicang vaguely heard commotion outside, and the air was filled with a dizzying odor.
[I offset 3.07R of morbidity. Zero value retained: 847.895R. This stench was a disaster for these people, who had so little time left.]
“……”
Total remained: s847.895R.]
“What’s up?”
The three of them, still heavy-eyed, propped themselves up from their beds, unknowingly huddling together in the cold.
“Did the boiler blow up again?” A faint voice of someone scolding was heard from outside.
“They say the paint formula went wrong.”
Pushing the door open, the outside was noisy. People emerged from wooden houses, their hair messy, faces covered in dust. Some yawned and brushed their teeth with cups of murky water, having no other choice anyway.
Between the houses stood an empty plot of land cluttered with piled wood. At this moment, someone was busy at work in that distant open area, while a crowd surrounded him, pointing fingers and discussing.
“What are you making this time? I’ve almost lost a month of my life. You need to compensate me.”
“Compensate your mother.”
After listening for a while, Yang Zicang finally figured out what these people were doing. The ones surrounding and protecting that person were exactly the same few who, hours earlier, had been searching for the illusory cast-iron cauldron, forged and vanished in some kind of mythical style.
Now, the man sitting cross-legged in the center wore a piece of clothing brought by Yang Zicang.
“Just building a boiler. Why do you have to mess with that poisonous water?”
The man on the ground looked up and said:
“If you’re just making a simple boiler for heating, of course, there’s no need to be so particular. But to become a supplier for hub towns and turn this place into a medium-sized settlement, how can you manage without a decent Forgetting Engine?”
“It’s just an iron barrel. Why make things so complicated?”
“If an iron barrel were all it took, anyone could make it. Who would need your engine?”
“Anyway, I think a furnace will do just fine. Do those people in the hub towns live any better than the nobility of the court?”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Spotting Yang Zicang and his two companions—now in clean new clothes and appearing spotless—the man who was in front of the ground furnace mixing a pungent potion lifted his head, cast Yang Zicang a glance, and then went back to tinkering.
A young man squatting on the opposite side saw Yang Zicang and stood up with a smile, saying:
“Hello, Jiazi? I’m the leader of the of this shed complex— er, encampment here, Ning Yang. Thanks for the clothes.”
He extended his hand, and Yang Zicang shook it.
“This is Master Zhang. He used to be a good boiler maker, but each part has its own division of labor, so as for the selection process…”
“It’s phosphating.” The person sitting on the ground said without looking up.
“Oh, right. I’m not very familiar with the phosphating treatment formula, but I’m slowly figuring it out.”
“I see.” The model on Yang Zicang’s chest flickered out.
Ning Yang, who was in the middle of introducing, froze for an instant.
Being close, he could clearly see how many sides it had.
“Brother Jiazi hasn’t just arrived, has he?” Ning Yang, who just happened to block Yang Zicang’s path, said softly.
“Why do you say that?”
Yang Zicang followed Ning Yang’s gaze and squinted. Outside the crowd, that person looked stunned—the very same one who had been thrown over fifteen meters by his shoulder throw. Upon seeing him, it seemed as if he had seen a ghost, and he quickly pushed through the crowd to run away.
Ning Yang said:
“I roughly know the situation now. In this place, everyone’s time sequences cannot be mutually taken away, only neutralized. So let’s focus on getting along peacefully. For these next two months, Master Jiazi, you can stay here. Oh, right, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let’s have a meal together—to get to know each other.”
Now aware that the man before him possessed a quadrilateral-shaped model—and already somewhat favorably inclined toward Yang Zicang because of his offer of clothes—Chief Ning of the Cang, naturally, wanted to win him over.
With such an expert who can amplify time-fold by four times stationed in his own compound, Ning Yang would have more confidence in dealing with stray monsters or troublemakers in the future.
……
With the invitation, Wang Chong and Xu Xiuchuan naturally followed to enjoy the meal. The other four were still unaware that Yang Zicang had arrived.
Inside the rock-walled room, several pots of discarded red magic crystal remnants were emitting heat, but someone had already come to cover them with lids.
During the day, the temperature here wasn’t much lower; these were only useful at night.
After the meal was prepared, Ning Yang said, “Aya, go call Master Zhang to join us for dinner.”
“He probably stinks pretty bad right now.”
The woman in the room said reluctantly, but she still went out to summon the man who was concocting potions.
A large round table was laden with fairly abundant dishes, and someone had brought transparent glass jars filled with clean water.
“It’s truly rare to get such a hot meal here.”
“We traded resources from the shed for all this. This table alone is worth a triangle model,” Ning Yang said.
Yang Zicang asked curiously, “So where do they get their vegetables and meat?”
Just then, Master Zhang, having heard about the free meal, lifted the curtain and entered the stone house.
“You’re new here, right. Some of these vegetable seeds are traded from Hub Town; others come from finding crossing zones into this place, planting [land-type] lost-thought engines there, postponing their collapse, and harvesting from them.”
Master Zhang sat down beside Ning Yang. “Is this young man a friend of yours?”
“He’s the one who delivered clothes yesterday—Jia Zijian, new arrival.”
“Oh, oh, it’s you.”
Zhang Yuanxin sized up Yang Zicang for a moment, then gently shook his head.
Even though he was wearing the blue cotton jacket the young man had given him, he still looked down on this kid who traded life-saving supplies for just a few nights’ stay.
If it were him, he would’ve found himself a place to sleep on his own; with all that warm gear, what was there to fear about camping out in the wild?
Did he absolutely have to have that shabby little room to get some shut-eye?
“This jacket on me’s pretty good—thanks, bro ‘Stranger.’ ”
Master Zhang sniffled, straightened his chopsticks by tapping them on the table, and then started helping himself to the food rudely.
“It’s ‘Strata 1960s Room’…” Wang Chong corrected.
“No harm, no foul—just eat.”
Ning Yang, who was urging everyone to dig in, kept the mood at the table light.
After asking Wang Chong and Xu Xiuchuan a couple of questions and learning they were merely out gathering materials, Master Zhang no longer paid them any attention.
“I once made a boiler that big,” he said, gesturing in the air with his chopsticks. “But later on, that kind of thing just fell out of style.”
“And now we need it again, don’t we?” Ning Yang chuckled.
“Ah, once we nail this serum down, with my skills, trust me, we’ll charm the pants off those town folks.”
“Yeah, for our camp to develop, we need craftsmen like Master Zhang. Hopefully, we’ll land a purchase order then.”
“So where are we stuck with the problem now?” Yang Zicang asked.
“It’s some technical stuff—you wouldn’t understand it,” Zhang Yuanxin replied without even lifting his head.
Yang Zicang smiled, then turned to Ning Yang: “I heard the encampment chief is still working on the Forgetfulness Engine for the well. Is there any Wangchuan Phantasm of the well left?”
Zhang Yuanxin snorted with laughter, thankfully turning his head away, or else he would have sprayed rice across the table.
“Hey, you mean that thing? We’ve given up on it. Easy to imagine, too hard to pull off. We’ll see if luck turns in our favor later. But I’ve got some leftover Wangchuan Spring related to it.”
“Could you spare me a portion?”
The phantasms floating atop those black rivulets were diverse and varied, but finding a specific one meant wasting time and relying on luck.
Although he had mentioned seeking a Well Phantasm to the two last night, it was clear that with such a small crew, days of squatting might not yield results.
“Of course. But Brother Jiazi, what are you…”
“Just giving it a try.” Yang Zicang didn’t deny it.
Zhang Yuanxin, having wiped his mouth, shook his head with a wordless smirk and reached for the dishes again with his chopsticks.
“If you succeed, young brother, do remember to share the formula with us.”
“Heh heh.”
After the meal, a woman whose face bore traces of hardship but was inherently beautiful carried over for Yang Zicang two flat, bowl-shaped glass jars.
The black stream water sloshed inside. Its surface exhibited rippling waves, yet no matter how they shifted, the phantasm riding above remained undispersed.