A Stone Mortar Pounds Ten Thousand Homes

Chapter 49: One Pestle for a Thousand Households

"You... you're spouting nonsense! When have I ever done such a thing!" The man called Xiao Si trembled. Listening from outside, Zi Bofeng felt helpless. In this village, everyone addressed each other by seniority and birth order; there were many whose real names Zi Bofeng didn't even know.

"I'm spouting nonsense?" Si Gou, looking every bit the ruffian, snorted and kicked the table. The remains of the meal they had just finished went flying, half of it splattering onto Xiao Si. "Don't think I don't know. You badmouth the Scholar behind his back. Let me tell you, Xiao Si, if your family weren't as poor as a broken basin, and if the Scholar hadn't risked his own life to plead your case before the officials, would your family even have a place to survive? You would have starved to death long ago. Everything you eat and drink now, isn't it all provided by the Scholar? You eat the Scholar's food and then curse him behind his back. Xiao Si, you're quite something. I never realized before that you were the type to eat with chopsticks and curse the cook the moment you put them down. That's a nice trick—how could I not learn it? The Scholar says, 'Live and learn.' If I don't learn this, wouldn't I, the wandering hero Si Gou, become a stray dog?"

"Where on earth did he learn all this nonsense..." Zi Bofeng pressed a hand to his forehead.

He realized that Si Gou, that lazy bum who spent his days scrounging for food and drink, often hung around the place where Zi Bofeng taught to listen to his stories. Terms like "wandering hero" and "live and learn" were all picked up from him.

"I'm telling you, Xiao Si, don't you go getting indignant. In this life, I, Si Gou, don't bow to anyone, but I bow to the Scholar. Damn you, if you dare badmouth the Scholar behind his back, you're going against me. And if you go against me, then I'm certainly going to go against you." This fellow, who only started trouble after he was full and satisfied, really made one wonder where he learned such petty malice.

Zi Bofeng noticed that after Si Gou finished speaking, Xiao Si didn't dare say a word, only trembling on the ground. Zi Bofeng also saw that the ink dot representing Xiao Si had miraculously turned black—completely black—and outside that black dot, a thin black ring had appeared, as if he had been locked onto.

Looking closely, the gray scale of this outer ring was exactly the same as Si Gou's.

So, this was a forced increase in favorability?

No, this wasn't favorability; it was awe and obedience.

As long as they didn't dare to shake off Si Gou's threat for a single day, their level of obedience would remain identical to Si Gou's.

"So it can be played like this?" Zi Bofeng wondered to himself. He understood that while the Porcelain Shard presented things in a way that looked like a game interface, it was only because that was the interface he liked and was accustomed to. In reality, what truly mattered was the timing, the geographical advantages, and the human element.

Setting aside the timing and geographical advantages for a moment, the human element didn't necessarily require winning hearts; it could be achieved through force or high-pressure tactics. In short, voluntary submission was best, but if that wasn't possible, using some methods was acceptable.

The Porcelain Shard only looked at the results, not the means.

Of course, relying entirely on high-pressure tactics wouldn't truly win the hearts of the people, but for one or two ungrateful wretches, using a few methods was absolutely no problem.

Before long, Si Gou came swaying out of the courtyard. Zi Bofeng had already hidden to one side. Seeing that Xiao Si hadn't followed and hadn't spotted him, he quickly waved his hand. "Si Gou, Si Gou, come here!"

"Scholar!" Seeing Zi Bofeng, Si Gou immediately ran over, bowing low. "Scholar! You've returned?"

He was full of sycophancy.

Zi Bofeng smiled and nodded. He took out a pastry he had brought from Meng City, which he had intended to eat as a midnight snack, and handed it to Si Gou. "Here, for you."

"I'm not a kid." Watching Zi Bofeng turn and ride away on his donkey, Si Gou scratched his head. This Scholar of his was truly hard to understand.

"Delicious!" After taking a bite, the sweetness went straight to his heart. Si Gou beamed again. It was worth it to stand up for the Scholar; the Scholar was thinking of him, too.

Having rewarded his lackey, he checked the overhead map on the Porcelain Shard. Most of the villagers in Lower Yan Village were now as black as ink. He was doing quite well in Lower Yan Village. As for the others, well, Si Gou would handle them. Zi Bofeng didn't need to spell it out; although Si Gou was a hoodlum, he was actually quite clever. Especially these past few days—he didn't know if it was from hanging around the Blue Stone and himself, but he had become much more agile than before.

The spiritual energy shrouding Lower Yan Village had already been torn open, especially near the Blue Stone, where it had been completely dispersed.

This spiritual energy was the "timing."

If there was anything missing now, Zi Bofeng felt it was the "geographical advantage."

This didn't refer to the terrain—Lower Yan Village was at the foot of the mountain with poor transportation, so there was no terrain advantage to speak of—but rather to the various facilities on the ground. Recalling the grand construction projects he had seen before, he felt that as the Village Chief, if he didn't build something, it didn't feel like he was doing his job.

Since he arrived in Lower Yan Village, it had been struggling on the brink of various crises, and the village had seen almost no development. But lately, the wild beasts on the nearby mountains had gradually increased, the vegetation had become much more lush, and the village's thin fields were no longer so barren. The seasonal crops planted by the villagers were finally yielding decent harvests. The villagers no longer worried about food and drink, and game and mountain delicacies often appeared on their tables. They had now barely managed to cross the hunger line.

If nothing else, take Little Stone: his head was still large and his neck was still thin, but he finally had a bit of meat on his bones. He wasn't as dark anymore, though he was still as dirty as a mud monkey, spending his days running up the mountains and down to the water without a care.

With the harvest improved, Zi Bofeng could finally shout, "Damn it, I want to eat fine white flour!"

He had been eating coarse rice and flour for days. While he wasn't exactly unable to swallow it, he was tired of the steamed buns and flatbreads that crumbled the moment they touched his mouth.

He used to comfort himself by saying that coarse flour porridge was good for clearing the bowels and was healthy, but after all these days, he could no longer fool himself.

Indeed, one might fool a man's heart, but one could not fool a man's stomach!

When Zi Bofeng returned home, there was a rhythmic thumping sound in the courtyard. His father was pounding flour, and Little Stone was squatting to the side, holding a small broom. Every time his father pounded, Little Stone would sweep the wheat grains and flour flat. Two puppies were circling his feet; they would shrink away in fear whenever his father started pounding, then circle back to watch curiously once he stopped.

This work was actually very hard. The pestle weighed over ten or twenty pounds, and pounding enough flour for a family of four to eat for a few days took half the morning. Sometimes, after his father spent the day in the mountains with the villagers, he would come back at night and pound flour shirtless until midnight. Zi Bofeng's heart ached to see it. But Zi Jian wouldn't let Zi Bofeng do this work—in fact, Zi Bofeng really couldn't do it. He had tried once and couldn't even hold a pen for days afterward.

It had been better lately; Si Gou and Zhuzi would occasionally come to help, but Zi Jian was thin-skinned and didn't like others helping, preferring to do it himself. If one didn't want to pound flour, one had to grind it. There was a small stone mill in the village, but the efficiency of a human-powered mill was very low, and there was often a queue, so the Zi family still pounded their own flour.

Zi Bofeng had once considered using the Monster Raising Art to create a stone mortar for pounding flour, but he had too many things to do and only so much energy; he couldn't keep up with everything.

Seeing his father working so hard, Zi Bofeng's idea suddenly became clear. He said, "Father, I want to build a mill—a water-powered mill."

"A water-powered mill?" Zi Jian was stunned. "How will you build it? Where will you build it?"

In the past, whenever Zi Bofeng proposed some whimsical idea, his first reaction was to oppose it. But now that his son's prestige was growing, Zi Jian didn't offer much opposition.

"I've already planned it out." Zi Bofeng went into his room and brought out a map. He had traced it from the one hanging in his study.

The small stream flowing past the Blue Stone joined several other streams, becoming a small river by the time it reached Lower Yan Village. A mile further down, it converged with several other small rivers; this was the source of the Meng River. Although the flow wasn't large, it was swift and had water year-round. Zi Bofeng had originally marked a spot a hundred meters below the confluence of these small rivers, but Yan Lao Wu hadn't agreed to the plan back then.

Now, Zi Bofeng was bringing it up again. He decided that no matter what, he would convince the villagers.

"This location should work, but we don't know how to build a water-powered mill," his father said. "We'll have to go to the city and hire someone to survey it."

"Why go to all that trouble?" Zi Bofeng brought out another blueprint. "Father, look, I've drawn a rough sketch. Is this hard to make?"

Zi Bofeng was just talking on paper, but when it came to masonry and carpentry, Zi Jian was the expert. Although Zi Bofeng's design wasn't very professional, Zi Jian's experience was vast. He took it, looked it over, and said, "This... shouldn't be hard to make..."

Exactly! It wasn't hard to make at all!

A water-powered mill was just a waterwheel, a drive shaft, and two millstones—connecting these three was all it took.

The principle wasn't difficult. Zi Bofeng's design might have been a bit presumptuous and might have had some flaws, but it would definitely work. Any problems could be improved later.

The biggest task would be finding a stonemason to carve two large millstones and then transporting them to the designated spot.

"I'll go talk to the village elders..." Zi Bofeng was overjoyed to have Zi Jian's approval. He could finally do something tangible to benefit the villagers; he had waited too long for this.

Record of Raising Monsters