Chapter 894
June 9
The group consisted of twenty-three people, their horses moving in orderly formation. Zhao Sanhuai rode on the right, his severed leg resting on a specially made stirrup, his short sword held horizontally before the saddle, its scabbard polished to a gleaming shine. Guo Tianyou followed on the left, clutching a roll of parchment ledgers, the edges of which he had repeatedly rubbed until they were frayed. Ku Lian Zhenren, Bi Xiao Furen, and Tie Bi Hou walked in the middle of the group, while the remaining cultivators and swordsmen formed a loose but vigilant long line.
At the bend in the official road ahead, a large caravan was stopped in the middle of the road.
There were over sixty large carts, their wheels taller than a person, their carriages lined with thick sheet metal, and their roofs covered with double-layered tarpaulins for snow and rain protection. Nearly a hundred guards stood beside the carts, each wearing a fur vest, carrying a spear or a spiked club, and short crossbows at their waists. The cart at the very front was particularly conspicuous; its carriage was painted dark brown, and a bronze plaque was nailed to its door, engraved with the three seal characters "Han Tie Xing" (Cold Iron Company).
The car door opened.
A short, stout middle-aged man came down the stairs with small, quick steps.
He wore a mink cloak with silver fox fur trim on the collar, and a string of jade abacus beads hung from his waist, making a crisp "clattering" sound when they struck. His face was round like a full moon, but his eyes were long and narrow, turning into slits when he smiled. Behind him were two accountants, one carrying account books and the other holding an abacus.
The short, stout middle-aged man cupped his hands in greeting, his voice booming but tinged with a hint of slickness:
"Oh my! Isn't this Mr. Zheng from Hongyun City? I am Han Fu, the manager of Hantie Trading Company. I've long admired your name!"
Zheng Yi reined in the horses, his gaze sweeping across the convoy before settling on Han Fu's face:
"Manager Han."
Han Fu smiled so much that his eyes narrowed into slits:
"You're too kind, sir! I heard you want a thousand tons of black rock. My convoy just brought back a batch of top-quality goods from the black iron mine. It has a high crystal content and is very hard, perfect for building your magic array tower!"
Zheng Yi grunted in agreement and dismounted.
Guo Tianyou and Zhao Sanhuai dismounted at the same time, standing guard on his left and right sides.
Zheng Yi walked to the first truck and patted the black rock sample on the side of the truck bed. The surface of the stone was smooth, and the silvery-gray cold iron crystals at the fracture were clearly visible, like frozen lightning.
“Good stones.” He said calmly. “How much per ton?”
Han Fu rubbed his hands together, his smile growing even sweeter:
“Sir, you are a straightforward man, so I won’t hold back either. The original price is thirty taels per ton, but for your sake… twenty-eight taels! You won’t find another place like this on the entire upper reaches of the Blackwater River!”
Zhao Sanhuai sneered:
"Twenty-eight taels? Manager Han, you have quite the appetite! In our Hongyun City, blue bricks only cost eight taels a ton. Is your black rock inlaid with gold?"
Han Fu's smile froze for a moment, then quickly returned to its usual shape.
"Old Master Sanhuai is joking. Blue bricks are blue bricks, and black rock is black rock. This cold iron crystal silk is a natural array pattern, capable of withstanding a cultivator's attack without breaking. Using it in load-bearing beams can save so many array materials! It's worth the price!"
Zheng Yi didn't respond to that, but just continued patting the stone, making a "slap slap" sound.
He suddenly stopped after the third slap.
I gently ran my finger along the broken edge of the stone.
A faint golden flame seeped from his fingertips, traveling along the cold iron crystal threads.
The crystal light instantly lit up, emitting a soft "hum," like an awakened string.
Han Fu's expression changed slightly, and his eyes narrowed even more:
"Sir, this is..."
Zheng Yi withdrew his hand, and the golden flames disappeared.
He looked at Han Fu:
"The crystal fiber content... is less than 12%."
"Its hardness is one grade lower than that of the standard product."
"The fire resistance is also reduced by half a percent."
Han Fu's smile froze completely, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Sir... what is this...?"
Zheng Yi's voice remained calm:
"Twenty taels."
Han Fu swallowed hard, his voice dry:
"Sir, this...this price is really..."
Zheng Yi turned to look at the convoy.
His gaze swept over the guards.
The guards gripped their weapons tightly, but none of them dared to move.
He then looked at Han Fu:
"Twenty taels."
"One thousand tons."
"Cash."
No credit available.
Sweat rolled down Han Fu's forehead, sliding down his cheeks and into his mink collar.
He gritted his teeth:
"Twenty taels...I'll take it!"
"But sir... could you..."
Zheng Yi looked up:
"What else could it be?"
Han Fu's voice lowered, becoming as soft as a mosquito's hum:
"Could you... give me another order for 500 tons? I'll deliver it next spring..."
Zheng Yi remained silent for a moment.
Suddenly he spoke:
"it is good."
"But the price... is eighteen taels."
Han Fu almost jumped up:
"Eighteen taels?! Sir, you..."
Zheng Yi interrupted him:
"Eighteen taels."
"Long-term supply".
"1,500 tons per year."
"If the quality is substandard, you will be fined fifty taels per ton."
Han Fu's expression shifted, and finally he slapped his thigh hard:
"to make!"
"Eighteen taels!"
"I'll have them unload the goods right away! Sir, please inspect them!"
Zheng Yi nodded:
"Verification."
Zhao Sanhuai immediately led his men forward.
The swordsmen moved with lightning speed, unloading the first cart of Black Rock in the blink of an eye.
The stones were piled up into a small hill.
Zheng Yi walked over.
I picked up a few pieces at random.
A flash of golden flame appeared at his fingertips.
The cold iron crystals at the broken edge of the stone lit up.
He looked at each piece one by one.
After reading one piece, toss it aside.
After reading one piece, he tossed it aside.
Han Fu was terrified.
"Sir...this..."
Zheng Yi threw away the tenth piece.
look up:
"This truckload... has an average crystal fiber content of 11%."
"qualified."
"Uninstalled."
Han Fu let out a long breath and wiped his sweat:
"Thank you, sir!"
The unloading process lasted for a full two hours.
Sixty large trucks, carrying a thousand tons of black rock, were all piled up on the open ground.
The black rocks were piled up like a small mountain, and when the sunlight shone on them, they reflected a cold, hard, silvery-gray light.
Zheng Yi stood in front of the pile of stones.
His gaze swept over Han Fu:
"The money will be delivered this afternoon."
Han Fu nodded repeatedly:
"Definitely! Definitely! I'll deliver it myself!"
Zheng Yi turned around.
He said to Zhao Sanhuai:
"Have someone guard it."
"Don't let anyone steal it."
Zhao Sanhuai grinned:
"Don't worry! Anyone who dares to steal it, I'll chop off their hand!"
Zheng Yi nodded.
He mounted his horse.
The construction site in the east of Hongyun City was shrouded in a thin winter mist, resembling an unfinished ink painting. The outline of the ten-story dormitory building in the distance was faintly visible in the fog, revealing only the steel frame of the lowest level and layers of black rock walls. A large open space had been cleared from the piles of black rock, the ground compacted by a tamping machine, trembling slightly underfoot but not at all soft. The air was filled with the smell of dust from newly chiseled stones, the acrid smell of burning nails, and the aroma of millet porridge wafting from the makeshift kitchen. Firewood crackled under the porridge pot, and sparks occasionally flew out, tracing brief orange arcs in the air.
Zheng Yi stood on the wooden platform of the second-floor scaffolding, wearing a gray-blue cloth shirt over an old cotton-padded jacket, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a pale gold old scar on the back of his hand. The wind blew from the direction of the river, carrying the damp, fishy smell unique to the Cold Abyss River, blowing his hair back. In his hand, he held a semi-transparent sheepskin map, on which the position of each load-bearing beam and the direction of the array patterns were marked in vermilion, the edges of which had been repeatedly rubbed until they were frayed.
Below the platform, Old Du was directing a team of craftsmen as they hoisted a main beam from the black rock. The beam was as thick as two people could hug, and grooves were carved into its surface to embed runic steel bars. Eight hemp ropes hung from a winch on the roof, their knots wrapped with thick layers of old cloth to prevent wear. The craftsmen chanted in unison, their voices rough and rhythmic:
"Get up—hey!"
"Steady—hey!"
The beam slowly rose, occasionally bumping into the scaffolding with a low "thump," causing the platform to sway slightly. Zheng Yi reached out and pressed down on the blueprints, his eyes fixed on the junction of the beam and the wall.
Old Du looked up and shouted:
"Sir! This beam matches perfectly! The rune slot is right at the third layer of the stress-relief array!"
Zheng Yi lowered his head and said to the withered lotus immortal beside him:
“Master, the nodes of the third layer of the Warmth Gathering Array are off by half an inch. After the beam is moved, the array patterns will be misaligned by 20%.”
Master Kulian stroked his wind-blown gray beard, took out a fine jade pen from his sleeve, the tip of which hovered in mid-air, and gently touched it.
A very pale blue line of water shot from the tip of the pen, like a stream that came to life, meandering halfway around the beam before finally disappearing into the groove in the wall. The wall trembled slightly with a "hum," and the misaligned patterns were forcibly corrected by the water line, producing a subtle "click" sound, like a lock closing.
Master Kulian finished writing, his eyes narrowing into slits with a smile:
"It's done. Sir, this blueprint is so precise, even I can't keep up with your train of thought when modifying the formation." Zheng Yi shook his head:
"You flatter me, senior. Formations are static, but people are dynamic. There are always unpredictable events on the scene."
He looked down at the group of craftsmen tying steel bars. A thin boy was tiptoeing, stuffing washers under the beam. His finger was cut by the steel bar, but he gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound. Zheng Yi frowned and called out to Lao Du:
"Old Du! Get that kid down here and bandage him! If the wound isn't treated, it'll easily frostbite in the winter."
Old Du immediately waved:
"Little Stone! Get down! The master wants you to get bandaged!"
The boy hesitated for a moment, wiped the dust off his face, and quickly climbed down the scaffolding. Once on the ground, he stood awkwardly in front of Zheng Yi, head down, avoiding eye contact.
"Sir...I'm fine...just a little scrape..."
Zheng Yi crouched down, his gaze level with Zheng Yi's:
"A scraped skin is still an injury. In winter, if a cut festers, more people will have to have their limbs amputated than you think."
He took out a small bottle of ointment from his sleeve. The ointment was pale gold and had a very faint warming effect when applied. Zheng Yi personally applied it to his wound, his movements light and steady.
The boy's eyes instantly reddened, and his voice trembled:
“Sir…I…I used to carry stones for people in Hanyuan City, earning ten coins a day. The boss wouldn’t care if I got hurt…I…this is the first time someone has cared about my injury…”
After applying the medicine, Zheng Yi stood up and patted him on the shoulder:
"Go back and rest for a while. We'll continue this afternoon."
The boy nodded vigorously, turned and ran back to the work shed, but his tears fell on the snow, making two small craters.
Old Du walked over, his voice rough and hoarse, but with a smile:
"Sir, your skill is truly impressive... We rough men are all impressed. Back in Hanyuan City, foremen would curse and complain about delays whenever they saw blood. But now, with you personally applying medicine, the craftsmen are working 30% harder than before."
Zheng Yi looked at the black rock pile in the distance:
"Humans are not machines. When you're tired, you need to rest; when you're injured, you need to heal; when you're hungry, you need to eat."
"Only when they live like human beings will they build buildings that look decent."
Old Du nodded emphatically:
“I will remember your words for the rest of my life.”
Construction continues.
From Chen Shi (7-9 AM) to You Shi (5-7 PM).
Black rocks were hoisted onto the building one by one.
Runes were carved into the cracks in the stone.
The array patterns were activated layer by layer.
By the evening of the seventh day, the ten-story building was completely topped out.
When the last main beam was hoisted up, all the craftsmen on site stopped what they were doing.
Old Du stood downstairs, looked up, and shouted:
"It's done—!"
The sound echoed across the construction site.
The craftsmen threw down their hammers and ropes; some sat directly on the ground, some hugged each other, and some looked up at the towering building, tears mingling with sweat streaming down their faces.
Zheng Yi stood on the rooftop balcony.
It's very windy.
The wind made his cloak flutter loudly.
He looked down.
A dense, dark crowd.
There were craftsmen, women and children, the elderly, and kids.
They looked up at him.
Someone shouted:
"gentlemen!"
"May you be victorious, sir!"
The voice was initially that of a person.
Then ten.
Then a hundred.
Then the entire construction site.
"May you be victorious, sir!"
"May you be victorious, sir!!!"
The shouts were deafening.
Zheng Yi stood on the balcony.
look at them.
Look at those raised hands.
Looking at those tearful eyes.
He suddenly laughed.
Extremely pale.
Yet it is extremely real.
He raised his hand.
Gently arch downwards.
The voice was not loud.
Yet it penetrates all the noise:
"...Thank you all."
"The building... is finished."
The shouts grew louder.
But it is more orderly.
Like an army that has been silent for a long time, it has finally found its own banner.
That night.
The square in front of the dormitory building in the east of the city.
A makeshift bonfire was set up.
The fire burned fiercely, sparks shooting into the sky and drawing brief orange-red arcs across the night.
The craftsmen sat in several circles around the fire; some held wine jars, some roasted fish they had just caught from the river, and some held children and told them stories.
Zheng Yi sat on a blue stone beside the fire.
An old cotton-padded jacket was placed on the stone.
He didn't drink.
He was holding a roasted corn cob that was golden brown.
The corn kernels burst open from the fire, revealing their golden cores and filling the air with their aroma.
The little girl—the one who sculpted the clay figure—sat down beside him.
She was holding a new clay figure, this time the figure was holding a small iron hammer.
She held the clay figure up to Zheng Yi:
"Sir...this time I sculpted the sir who builds houses! Because the sir said that everyone should have a good house to live in..."
Zheng Yi took the clay figure.
watch carefully.
The hammer was made of thin iron wire, and the hammerhead was made of black clay with a small "鸿" character dotted on it with red clay.
He ruffled the girl's hair:
"it is good."
"Once people move into the building, you'll be the first one to move in."
The little girl's eyes curved into crescent moons:
"real?!"
Zheng Yi nodded:
"real."
"I'll save you a sunny room."
The little girl hugged his arm tightly:
"Sir... I like you the most!"
Zheng Yi remained silent.
Just looking at the fire.
The firelight reflected on his face.
It reflected a very faint trace of fatigue.
Yet it also reflects... a quiet satisfaction.
Beside the campfire.
Zhao Sanhuai walked over carrying a wine bowl.
He handed the wine bowl to Zheng Yi:
"Sir, would you like a sip?"
Zheng Yi shook his head:
"Don't drink."
Zhao Sanhuai downed his drink in one gulp, then smacked his lips:
"Sir, do you think... our miserable lives are finally worth something?"
Zheng Yi looked at the fire.
In the fire, a piece of firewood crackled and popped, sending sparks flying.
His voice was very soft:
"valuable."
"Because...someone cares."
Zhao Sanhuai was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
"Sir...I will remember your words for the rest of my life!"
The Autumn Hunting Festival in Hanyuan City is scheduled for the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, three days before the Double Ninth Festival. (End of Chapter)