A Map Drawn Grandly

Over the next two or three days, Zhuzi dragged Father out every morning to hunt for jade. Upon returning, Father would dig out a copy of the Jade Sutra and bury himself in it, causing Yan Wu Shi to chuckle and say, "Big Brother, are you planning to take the imperial examinations? Look at how hard you're studying."

Zi Jian shook his head with a smile, offering no reply. Although he was literate, he hadn't read much in years, so the text was a struggle. Yet, seeing others find jade made him envious; he had never liked falling behind. The problem was that while others were jade craftsmen by trade, he was merely a carpenter and mason, putting him at a natural disadvantage. Every time he saw someone else strike gold, he could only stand back and envy them. After this happened enough times, a deep sense of unwillingness took root in Zi Jian's heart.

"Father, just think of it as going to the mountains for a stroll. Our family isn't exactly short on money," Zi Bofeng advised. He truly didn't care much for a few pieces of jade.

If he had said this before, Zi Bofeng wouldn't have had much confidence. But after the Prefect gifted them that silver last time, the family was set for food and drink for several years; Zi Jian didn't need to work himself to the bone.

Besides, there was a whole pile of jade sitting right under Blue Stone's backside.

"Go on, you brat. Mind your own business and go play," Zi Jian said, his face hardening. The fact that Zi Bofeng earned more in one trip than he did in several years was a blow to his pride.

Zi Bofeng rubbed his nose and left, feeling helpless. He had originally intended to help his father interpret the Jade Sutra, but since the old man wanted to suffer, he could chew on it himself.

He estimated that the jade-hunting team would have better luck in the coming days, and his father would likely find something within three to five days. Since many of the village's facilities were dilapidated and abandoned, he needed to find Yan Lao Wu to discuss the matter of repairing them.

Repairing things in the village didn't actually require much money; it just required everyone to contribute labor. The first thing Zi Bofeng wanted to fix were the shelters in the mountains. He remembered a passage from the Exploitation of the Works of Nature: "All jade is born from the essence of the moon. Thus, those who gather jade along the river do so mostly in autumn, watching the river under the bright moon; where jade boulders accumulate, the moonlight appears doubly bright." This world didn't have the Exploitation of the Works of Nature, but the Jade Sutra recorded the process of jade condensation: "On the night of the full moon, it glows with a lustrous sheen; this is where the jade has condensed."

In this world, jade was like dew, formed by the condensation of spiritual energy. On moonlit nights, as the jade condensed, it emitted a faint glow. The brighter the moon, the brighter the glow, making night the best time to hunt for jade.

However, the mountains were dangerous at night, teeming with wild beasts, so having shelters was a necessity.

Back when Lower Yan Village was prosperous, there had been dozens of these jade-hunting huts, covering thirty or forty miles of mountain paths. These huts had been built by the villagers through blood, sweat, and tears.

Zi Bofeng returned to his room to retrieve a map. He had traced it based on the map inside the Porcelain Shard. Although there were slight inaccuracies, its precision was likely many times greater than the rough maps the village previously possessed.

Zi Bofeng planned to frame this map and hang it in his study, like a great statesman pointing out the lay of the land. It was a pity his study wasn't large enough; otherwise, making a sand table would have been even more satisfying.

On this map, Zi Bofeng had already marked over a dozen huts within the village's territory, plus another twenty or so deeper in Bird-Mouse Mountain. Those were outside the village's range, and the Porcelain Shard couldn't see them. But Zi Bofeng didn't need to worry about those. The jade regenerated because Blue Stone guarded the ley lines, and the area it guarded was Zi Bofeng's domain; outside this territory, there was likely no jade at all.

Zi Bofeng had nearly gone blind searching for those dozen huts, and it had cost him a basketful of spiritual energy. However, he had discovered another benefit of the Porcelain Shard: he could label any target he viewed from above. Just now, Zi Bofeng had snuck a glance and noticed a black dot labeled "Yan Lao Wu" standing outside the Ancestral Shrine.

The spiritual energy consumed by such a fleeting glance was minimal. Zi Bofeng had gradually grown accustomed to scanning his surroundings before doing anything; the feeling of overlooking everything was truly addictive.

Clutching the scroll of the map, Zi Bofeng saw that the sun hadn't yet set, so he hurried out the door toward the Ancestral Shrine. He called out a greeting from afar and walked up to Yan Lao Wu, asking in surprise, "What are you looking at?"

"The ancestors have manifested their spirits; Lower Yan Village has finally seen jade again." Yan Lao Wu gestured with his chin toward the dark, weathered Ancestral Shrine. He glanced at Zi Bofeng from the corner of his eye and said, "I was just thinking, should we renovate the Ancestral Shrine? The last major repair was back when I was young..." Yan Lao Wu rambled on, reminiscing about the grand ceremonies of the past—how, even though Lower Yan Village had split off from Yan Village, they had been the most lively, prosperous, and wealthy. He spoke of hiring troupes to perform three days of grand operas, with people coming from ten miles around to join the fun. He rambled on and on, never stopping.

That's right, the Ancestral Shrine needs repairs too. Zi Bofeng's attention, however, was elsewhere.

Zi Bofeng took out a small notebook and a pencil, found a fresh page, wrote "Culture and Belief" at the top, and listed the Ancestral Shrine underneath. Zi Bofeng was gradually developing ideas for the development of Lower Yan Village, and he decided to record them whenever they came to him; they would surely be useful later.

He had bought this notebook and pencil two days ago at the Brush and Ink Pavilion, a shop specializing in the Four Treasures of the Study across from the academy in Meng City. He hadn't noticed it before, but it turned out this world had pencils too. This pencil was slightly different from the ones in his past life; it looked like a hairpin, slightly pointed at the front, where a cylindrical piece of graphite could be inserted. It could even be covered with a cap for protection. It looked quite high-end and was not cheap. This was the legendary "Hairpin Brush," commonly used by scribes, which could be worn in the hair and used to record things at any time. Zi Bofeng, however, disliked the hairpin design and didn't want to stick it in his hair. Moreover, it didn't write as comfortably as the pencils of his past life; it always felt like he was using a broken pencil, slightly loose. Zi Bofeng was currently considering how to modify it and design a style he liked, so he wouldn't have to grind ink every time he wanted to jot something down.

Yan Lao Wu leaned in to look, but couldn't understand it, so he helplessly curled his lip.

Zi Bofeng said, "Old Man, the Ancestral Shrine does need repairs, but what we need most right now are the huts in the mountains."

"That's true." Yan Lao Wu nodded upon hearing this. "I was just thinking, I'll go into the mountains in the next two days to check on those huts. Many of the young people now don't even know where they are..."

In truth, if Zi Bofeng hadn't calculated the village's accounts, he wouldn't have known those mountain huts existed either. These huts could be considered the village's rare common property... though, of course, they couldn't be sold.

"Look here, Old Man." Zi Bofeng unrolled the large map. He realized it was completely blocked, so he quickly asked Yan Lao Wu to lend a hand. The two of them pulled the map taut. Yan Lao Wu took one look and froze: "This is..."

Yan Lao Wu had drawn maps himself, which he still kept in his cabinet. But compared to the one before him, they were pathetic. Compared to the ghost-scrawls Yan Lao Wu had drawn, this map was practically a satellite image.

"This is the map of our Lower Yan Village. I've marked the mountain huts on it."

"You marked them?" Yan Lao Wu didn't believe him. He stared for a long time before asking in confusion, "How did you know where those huts were? Did Zhuzi tell you? That can't be right, he doesn't even know where most of them are..."

"A mountain man has his own clever ways!" Zi Bofeng enjoyed Yan Lao Wu's shock for a moment, then said, "I suggest we repair these four mountain huts first, and leave the others for later. What do you think, Old Man?"

Yan Lao Wu looked a bit disappointed. "Young Scholar, you decide, you're the one in charge..."

Seeing that he had truly stung the old man, Zi Bofeng quickly added, "Don't be like that! I'm just talking; how we actually repair them is up to you. I don't know the first thing about building houses."

"If you don't know, your father certainly does." The old man was still grumpy. Zi Bofeng had to persuade him repeatedly before he finally agreed, satisfied, to mobilize and organize the villagers to repair the mountain huts.

"Old Man, look, I have a few more plans..." Zi Bofeng pointed at the map. "I want to build an archway outside the village entrance, repair the road from the village to the main thoroughfare, build a water-powered mill by the Meng River south of the village, and set up a few waterwheels to irrigate the farmland. Also, here—I want to apply to the Prefect to establish a post station in our Lower Yan Village, with at least three horses and a carriage..."

After this string of plans, Yan Lao Wu was stunned.

After a long while, Yan Lao Wu touched Zi Bofeng's forehead and said, "You don't have a fever, so why are you talking nonsense?"

He shook his head and walked away, sighing.

"You're the one with a fever! Your whole family has a fever!" Zi Bofeng stood there for a long time, only able to vent his frustration viciously.

This was something he had painstakingly planned for a long time, and to have it dismissed like that by Yan Lao Wu—how could he not be hurt!

However, Zi Bofeng also knew that trying to get fat in one bite was unrealistic. For now, all he could do was repair the mountain huts; the rest would have to wait until the village's income increased. When that time came, they would need everyone to pool their money and labor, which would inevitably be a difficult task.

But no matter what, life was full of hope, and it seemed increasingly worth looking forward to.

As twilight descended, Zi Bofeng stood outside the Ancestral Shrine and looked back.

A red sun had already dipped behind the mountains, gilding the peaks with a layer of golden Buddha-light.

The thinning sunlight spilled greedily over Lower Yan Village, reflecting the cooking smoke drifting slowly from the rooftops.

He reached out his hand, and the golden-red light leaked through his fingertips, leaving the shadows of his five fingers on his face.

He slowly clenched his hand, as if to grasp his own destiny and future.

No one would ever take this anticipation and joy from his hands.

No one.

Record of Raising Monsters