'Golden House'

Back in the room at Wildling Village after all that pointless rushing around, Bai Yang realized he was dead tired—after all, he hadn't slept for over twenty hours without noticing. He simply pulled the soft fur on the bed over himself and crashed.

Waking up refreshed, he checked his phone and found he'd slept a solid eight hours, but when he looked out the window at the sky, he was dismayed to see the glaring sun had only tilted slightly.

"How long is daytime here, anyway?"

Rubbing his head, Bai Yang muttered to himself as he opened the door. Not watching his feet, he tripped over something and face-planted, landing on something soft. The faint scent of some unknown plant filled his nose.

Eyes met eyes, staring wide at each other. No scream, no slap. The awkward silence froze in place.

"Why were you squatting at my door..."

Flustered, Bai Yang scrambled up, his tone unnatural, even though she couldn't understand him.

That accidental touch just now... felt pretty good, didn't it?

The girl whose name he still didn't know blinked, stood up, and babbled something while gesturing wildly.

After a lot of guesswork, Bai Yang finally got it: while he slept, she'd waited at the door so he wouldn't wake up alone, then dozed off squatting there. That's why he tripped and landed on her when he opened the door.

"That's not the point, okay..."

Bai Yang muttered. Look, I wasn't trying to, but I still copped a feel. Give me some reaction, will you? You're making me feel zero guilt... pfft... what am I thinking...

With mixed feelings, Bai Yang gestured wildly. What should have been a one-sentence explanation took him forever to get across, making her understand he wanted her to take him to the white-bearded old man.

When he found the white-bearded old man, Bai Yang thought to himself, This guy sure knows how to enjoy his twilight years. A soft hammock was strung in the treetops, swaying in the breeze, more comfortable than any rocking chair.

Then came another round of frantic gesturing and incomprehensible language exchange before Bai Yang made the old man understand: he wanted to stay here a while longer, felt bad freeloading at his place, and could the villagers help build him a small hut? Of course, he'd pay them back.

It wasn't a big deal. The white-bearded old man seemed happy once he understood, babbling something Bai Yang guessed meant no problem...

Then the girl who'd been sticking with him seemed to catch on too, even more eager than Bai Yang. She hopped down, chirping loudly in her melodic voice about who knows what.

Next, Bai Yang watched dumbfounded as he learned what Barbarian efficiency meant.

A dozen or so burly guys gathered fast, shouldered big axes, and charged into the jungle. Soon, the sound of trees crashing echoed from the forest, and logs two or three meters thick were hauled back.

Wood chips flew. The big guys brute-forced the thick trunks into rough planks, gouging holes and notches where needed, then hoisted them into a big tree, wedging them between thick branches. Plank by plank, a wooden platform formed in the tree, then walls went up, and a little cabin took shape...

In less than two hours, a brand-new three-room wooden cabin of at least eighty square meters stood in the tree. Bai Yang stared, stunned.

Then he yelped, dashed to the "worksite" on the ground, picked up a wood chip, examined the grain, sniffed it, grabbed a fresh twig from the ground, studied it closely, and plopped down on his butt, staring blankly at the new cabin thirty meters off the ground.

"So this is basically a Golden House, huh? A whole house built from Red Sandalwood. How much is that worth?"

Before coming here, Bai Yang had looked up info. Now he was dead sure his cabin was made entirely of this wood. Not only was it precious timber, its sandalwood scent cleared the mind and repelled bugs—tons of benefits.

"No wonder there are almost no annoying mosquitoes in the village huts even in this heat..."

Bai Yang gazed dazedly at every treehouse in the village, as if each simple-looking hut shimmered with golden light...

Then he looked at the big Barbarians staring at him in confusion, and felt like each one radiated blinding nouveau-riche vibes...

"People go crazy over a set of Huali Wood or Red Sandalwood furniture? Lao Tzu's whole house is pure Red Sandalwood now!"

Bai Yang had no idea how to process this. The jungle here was practically paved with gold—it just depended on how hard you worked to haul it away.

"Calm down, calm down. Too much of anything makes it worthless... Screw calm..."

Snapping out of it, Bai Yang ran to a burly guy splitting sandalwood like firewood, flailing his arms in wild gestures. After a struggle, the guy got it, led some men back into the forest, and soon hauled back a dozen more two-to-three-meter-thick sandalwood logs...

"From what I read online, sandalwood takes forever to grow, and even then it often goes hollow. So why is it so thick here?"

Circling the fresh logs, Bai Yang frowned in thought, bent over to count the rings on a solid one. Forget it—too dense, made his eyes dizzy. Rough estimate: at least two or three hundred years old. He chalked it up to the environment.

Under Bai Yang's gestured directions, the newly cut thick sandalwood was brutally split by the muscle-bound, brain-lacking giants into three-meter-long beams, stacked in a shady spot. Soon a pile formed.

He wasn't stupid enough to ship whole sandalwood logs back to Earth. Any tree over eighty centimeters in diameter was an ancient tree back there; hauling such precious thick timber would definitely get him shot.

"Back in '04, top-grade Red Sandalwood from India was priced at 500,000 to 600,000 per ton. It's probably pricier now. This pile must be twenty or thirty tons, right? So I've basically pocketed tens of millions? All it cost was some random junk to fool these big guys! And if I processed it into finished goods, the price could multiply tenfold..."

Staring at the fresh stack of Red Sandalwood beams, Bai Yang was dazed.

Sure, some sandalwood bracelets sell for tens of thousands, but those are finished products, mostly hyped up. The raw material isn't nearly that valuable.

After thinking it over, Bai Yang sadly realized that unless he wanted to start a furniture factory from scratch, shipping precious wood back to sell was a thankless job—everyone else would take the big cut.

"Forget it. This batch should drain Dad's pockets. Once he turns it into finished goods and sells it, I'll get him another batch and drain him again!"

Bai Yang happily decided. Cooperate with other furniture factories? No way—that's helping the enemy. He'd have to be brain-dead for that. With that effort, he might as well figure out how to haul some radishes—er, ginseng—back to sell.

He also had his own plans. Eventually, he'd have to contact the outside world here. If he found skilled carpenters, Lao Tzu would open a furniture factory right here, make finished goods, and sell them back there. Take it or leave it!

Calming down, he looked up and saw the glaring sun near the horizon. He slapped his forehead, dashed out of the village for a quick loop, came back, and checked the markers he'd made the day before.

"A day here is almost fifty hours long—more than twice an Earth day. Do they have years, months, and seasons here? If I stay long, I'll have no clue what year or month it is back on Earth..."

Muttering to himself, Bai Yang returned to the village as dusk fell. Back in his own little cabin, he was stunned to find simple daily necessities already set up, with the girl who'd been following him bustling around cheerfully.

"What's going on? Is she moving in with me?"

Watching her make the bed, Bai Yang was completely dumbfounded...

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