Chapter 26: Igniting the Entire Village
Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Igniting the Entire Village
This time, Yu the Scholar and Zhu Ge talked for a long time.
According to Yu the Scholar, the past few days’ ordeals had also given him some insight, and his cultivation had improved slightly.
That was why he only headed home after their long chat, just before the "Confucian" character faded away.
As for Zhu Ge, though he could no longer sleep, what he had gained was immense.
Beyond exchanging information with Yu the Scholar and finding some answers, the cultivation method was another major takeaway.
The Confucian Dao!
His teacher had previously said the body’s original owner wasn’t very suited for the Confucian Dao, but Zhu Ge was not that "Zhu Ge."
His teacher wasn’t here now, but even if he were—even if he were to say once again that the current Zhu Ge was unsuited for the Confucian Dao—Zhu Ge wouldn’t care.
’I have to cultivate, no matter what!’
CREAK—
With this thought, Zhu Ge gently opened the door and went back inside his house.
His parents’ instincts didn’t seem to be triggered by his movements, allowing Zhu Ge to lie back down.
But by now, the moonlight was fading. It wouldn’t be long until sunrise.
Zhu Ge didn’t try to sleep again. Instead, he lay with his eyes open, thinking about the Confucian Dao.
’Write a book... I don’t think I ever memorized many back then.’
’Then again, Yu the Scholar said I don’t need to write a whole lot. I just need to produce one world-shaking masterpiece, and its effect would leave ordinary books in the dust.’
’Which one should I write, though?’
’Also, in the Confucian Dao, if you write a world-shaking masterpiece, it can apparently cause celestial phenomena. It might even draw in Vast Literary Qi to strengthen my body.’
’If that’s the case, then *when*, *where*, and during *what* event I write it becomes extremely important.’
’Used properly, it could be a trump card. It might even be able to get me out of a deadly situation.’
’The only problem is that paths like the Immortal Dao all require Cultivation Techniques. I may have the countless Confucian Daoist Classics from my past life as a foundation, but I don’t have any Cultivation Techniques for the Immortal Dao or other paths.’
Zhu Ge closed his eyes, letting them rest, but his mind remained taut as he mulled things over.
In this world, no matter the path, a Cultivation Technique was indispensable for practice.
And all of them—Immortal Dao Techniques, Confucian Dao Techniques, Martial Arts Techniques—were incredibly rare.
This was especially true now, with the heritage of the Human Race nearly severed.
From this perspective, the classics and literary works he knew from his past life, like the Four Books and Five Classics, were a treasure trove he was sitting on.
If he could just write them down, read them, and study them, he could become a Confucian Dao Cultivator and practice every day.
But getting his hands on other types of Cultivation Techniques would be difficult.
A Martial Arts Technique, for example.
If his teacher and Yu the Scholar hadn’t coincidentally found an Elemental Level technique, the *Great Sun Glaze Body*, it would have been nearly impossible for Zhu Ge to master it just by searching the world on his own.
’Tomorrow, I’ll get up and do my Martial Arts Practice first. In the afternoon, I’ll go to Yu the Scholar’s place and ask for a brush and some paper to try writing something.’
’Martial Arts Body Refinement, the Confucian Dao for self-improvement, the Kunpeng trait, plus a clear-headed Yu the Scholar... the more trump cards I have, the better!’
...
After everything that had happened over the past few days, Zhu Ge somehow managed to drift off into a groggy sleep just before Dawn.
To his surprise, however, his parents didn’t wake him when they got up. Instead, they let him sleep all the way until noon.
At noon, his mother returned and once again sat in the corner, weaving a basket.
It was the soft RUSTLING, combined with the PITTER-PATTER of the rain, that finally woke him.
"There’s not much work these days. You can go pick mushrooms." As Zhu Ge got up, his mother spoke, her words stiff and mechanical, driven by pure instinct.
The Mushroom Festival was approaching, so many people would be out gathering mushrooms to dry and preserve.
The best time to pick mushrooms was actually after a thunderstorm.
It was drizzling now, which was also a good time to go out.
This was probably why no one had woken him.
In his parents’ instinctive minds, a light rain triggered the reflexive memory of gathering mushrooms, making farming a secondary priority.
After all, the rain was good for the crops; the weeds could be pulled the next day.
’That was a good sleep...’
Zhu Ge could feel that the persistent, dull headache and the puffiness in his eyes had eased somewhat.
However, this comfort came merely from a few extra hours of sleep. The true source of his discomfort—the reduction of his lifespan—remained.
It was treating the symptom, not the cause.
Still, any relief was welcome.
It was like carrying a hundred-kilogram weight on his back, only to suddenly have it reduced to eighty. Naturally, he felt a bit more comfortable.
’Whatever, thinking about this now is useless...’ Zhu Ge got up and quickly washed his face.
Today was a good day. He could use the Mushroom Festival as a pretext to go out and set up the firewood needed to burn down the entire village.
The village houses were made of things like mud, clay, wood, ash, glutinous rice, and straw, so igniting them wouldn’t actually be too difficult.
But this place was likely in a subtropical region. The air was humid, and the house walls were damp.
So he would need to make some gunpowder.
Whether as a fuse or as an explosive, it would definitely be useful.
Setting all this up was no simple task.
Even though it was raining, he could still go out and start digging pits to store the firewood and gunpowder.
He could also take the chance to collect some saltpeter from around the latrines and ask the other households for some charcoal.
As for sulfur, every household used it with ash as an insecticide, so that would be easy to get too.
One part sulfur, two parts saltpeter, three parts charcoal—and he’d have gunpowder.
The purity wouldn’t be very high, and its combustion and explosive power would be weak, but it would be good enough.
Time to get to work!
"I’m going out to pick mushrooms," Zhu Ge called to his mother as he prepared to leave.
But his mother, contrary to her usual nature, actually spoke up. "I wove a basket. Take it with you."
Zhu Ge looked at his mother in the shadows, completely surprised.
His mother was holding a completed basket. It wasn’t large and was full of gaps, but it had no opening or handles. It looked more like a sea urchin woven from wooden strips.
With gaps that big, you couldn’t even carry mushrooms in it, let alone water.
’Wait, this basket doesn’t just look like a ball...’ Zhu Ge’s pupils contracted.
’The more I look at it, the more it looks like... a human head.’
The wooden strips were woven together haphazardly, and the resulting gaps looked eerily like eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Two strips of bamboo sticking out even resembled ears.
Zhu Ge narrowed his eyes, looking at his god-controlled mother.
But his mother’s expression was dazed and her eyes were vacant, completely devoid of any living spark.
"Alright." Fearing a refusal would trigger some strange reaction, Zhu Ge took the round basket.
The moment he was outside, however, he set it down by the side of the house.
He didn’t dare carry such a bizarre object with him.
SPLISH, SPLASH...
The light rain soaked the eaves, and water trickled down the thatch onto the ground, making the dirt-and-pebble path muddy.
Zhu Ge grabbed a wide-brimmed straw hat and headed out into the rain.
He spent the day on simple tasks: collecting materials and digging pits.
As for actually picking mushrooms?
According to the original owner’s memories, the mushrooms were delicious, but this was no time to be indulging his appetite.
He first scouted locations based on his memory, digging pits and leaving markers. After gathering some sulfur and saltpeter, he made his way to Yu the Scholar’s house.
Yu the Scholar wasn’t home, so he left the materials there and went to lie in Hua Xiaomei’s coffin to practice the *Great Sun Glaze Body*.
He didn’t start mixing and making the gunpowder until nightfall.
But when Yu the Scholar returned, Zhu Ge was stunned.
"How did you manage to gather so many mushrooms?!"