I returned to the Cave platform dragging my exhausted body, but filled with a sense of satisfying harvest.
The sun had already dipped toward the west, stretching my shadow long and oblique.
That heavy piece of Sapphire Tough Bamboo leaned against the rock wall at the cave’s entrance like a pillar carved from sapphire jade, its surface glistening with a warm glow in the sunset.
I did not immediately begin to process the bamboo.
The morning’s planting and the afternoon’s exploration had consumed a great deal of my strength.
More importantly, the newly acquired “Simple Ecological Guide (Regional Edition)” was emitting an alluring, “knowledge-seeking” radiance.
With its 24-hour validity, every minute seemed precious.
I sat leaning against the cave entrance, shielded from the gradually cooling mountain breeze, and focused my mind to summon that temporary guide.
Within my consciousness, a translucent, pale-green three-dimensional map seemed to unfurl.
It was a miniature model of the valley, centered on the Cave and extending in a radius of about 1.5 kilometers.
Rivers, gentle slopes, bamboo groves, wetlands, and the grassland where I had discovered the Earth-Bell Tubers…
all were marked with concise symbols.
When I “focused” my intent on a specific area, a more detailed stream of textual information would surface.
I first examined the area around the Cave.
In addition to the known plants, the guide also marked several previously overlooked medicinal herbs (such as “Blood-Clotting Grass” which grew in the shaded spots of rocks), as well as the habitats of several beetles and lizards, noting that their shells or shed skins could be useful in certain primitive crafts.
Next was the opposite bank of the river, where the small field I had cultivated was also marked.
Beside it, it displayed: “Newly cultivated land, soil fertility medium-high, ample moisture, suitable for Jade-Needle Rice and various moisture-loving crops.” Meanwhile, the downstream wetlands were densely marked with even more species: “Water Celery” (edible aquatic vegetable), “Lampwick Grass” (stems can be woven, core can be used as a lamp wick), “Marsh Frog” (common amphibian, stable population)…
there was even a marker for a “Small Clay Deposit Point” right at the edge of the wetlands!
“Clay!” My eyes lit up.
With clay, I could attempt to make pottery: water storage jars, cooking pots, and even a simple stove!
This was far more advanced than roasting with bamboo tubes and stones.
I “looked” again toward the upstream bamboo grove and beyond.
The information on the bamboo grove was even more detailed: in addition to the Sapphire Tough Bamboo, there was also a companion species called “Purple-Veined Mottled Bamboo.” Its stalks bore purple patterns, and while it was slightly less tough, it was lighter and more suitable for making arrow shafts or decorative weaving.
Deep within the bamboo grove, “Bamboo Rat Burrows” were also marked, indicating the presence of small rodents whose meat was acceptable and whose fur could be utilized.
I continued to project my consciousness toward the foothills and woodlands on the further edges of the valley, places I had not yet set foot in.
The Guide showed the distribution of “Ironwire Vine” (extremely tough, suitable for tying or making rope) and “Hardskin Tree” (the wood is hard, making it ideal for tool handles or load-bearing structures).
It even marked a “Suspected Small Hot Spring Seepage Point” under a sheltered, sunny rock face in the northeast corner of the valley, where the water temperature was slightly higher than the surrounding environment and might be rich in minerals. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Information streamed into my mind like a gentle current, greatly enriching my understanding of this small ecosystem.
Many ideas that had previously been vague now became clear and feasible: using Ironwire Vine and Hardskin wood to improve my tools; using clay to attempt pottery; and even considering the utilization of the hot spring in the future…
“This Guide is incredibly useful!” I exclaimed sincerely.
Although it only provided basic information, it saved me a huge amount of time from blind exploration.
As the sky darkened, the Guide’s time-limited access was precious, so I decided to focus on solving a pressing need first: containers.
The bamboo canteen had limited capacity and was inconvenient for fetching water, and I lacked suitable cookware to more efficiently cook food (especially the Earth-Bell Tubers I might process in large quantities in the future).
Clay seemed to be the most viable material to solve this problem right now.
Taking advantage of the remaining daylight, I immediately set off, following the Guide’s instructions toward the clay deposit point at the edge of the downstream wetlands.
The location wasn’t far, just near the marsh where I had collected Borer-Expelling Grass yesterday.
The terrain here was lower, the water flowed slowly, and fine, grayish-white silt had deposited.
I used a branch to clear away the surface dead leaves and humus, dug up a clump of slippery, sticky mud, and kneaded it in my hands.
Its texture was fine, highly plastic, and contained very few impurities.
It was indeed high-quality clay.
I used my Mountain-Cleaving Yue to cut several large, tough leaves to serve as temporary “trays,” dug up over ten jin of wet clay, and carefully carried it back to the cave platform.
After two trips back and forth, sweat beaded on my forehead again, but my heart was filled with anticipation.
By the time I returned to the Cave, the sky had completely blackened.
I lit the ember and built a small campfire for both light and warmth.
In the flickering firelight, I piled the wet clay onto a flat stone slab.
Pottery making…
I was a complete novice.
I only vaguely remembered that it required removing impurities, repeatedly kneading to increase toughness, then shaping, shade-drying, and finally firing.
First step: kneading the clay.
I held the wet clay in my hands, kneading and slapping it forcefully like dough, squeezing out the air bubbles to make the texture more uniform.
This process was tedious and strenuous, and the sticky mud covered my hands.
But strangely, when I calmed my mind and focused on every contact between my palms and the clay, that affinity with the “Earth” element seemed to be quietly activated.
I could vaguely sense the fine granular structure and moisture distribution within the clay, and the direction and force of my kneading seemed to be guided by intuition, making the efficiency unexpectedly high. Read the latest chapters at NovelPing.
The lump of clay in my hands gradually became smooth, supple, and elastic.
“Could this be…
a practical application of my ability?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but the effect was remarkable.
I covered the initially kneaded lump of clay with wet leaves to prevent the moisture from evaporating too quickly.
Next was shaping.
I had no potter’s wheel or molds, so I could only pinch it by hand.
My first goal was to make a simple, thick-walled clay pot for storing water.
I took out a large lump of clay, first repeatedly slapping it into a solid, short cylinder, then using my thumb to slowly press down from the top center and outward, while my other hand assisted in shaping from the outside, gradually turning the clay cylinder into the hollow prototype of a pot.
The process was cautious, for fear of pinching it broken or making the thickness uneven.
I tried to make the pot’s mouth as small as possible to reduce water evaporation; I made the pot’s body more bulging to increase its capacity; I deliberately thickened and patted flat the bottom to ensure it could stand steadily.
The first finished product was crooked, with unevenly thick walls and a rough rim.
But I was not discouraged, since there was still plenty of clay anyway.
I tried making two smaller, bowl-shaped containers (planning to use them as pots or bowls), as well as several palm-sized, shallow dishes (which could be used to dry things or as simple lamp holders).
When I finished everything, my fingers and arms were all sore.
I placed these rough blanks in a spot not too far nor too close to the fire, using the residual heat of the campfire and the air circulation to let them slowly shade-dry.
This process would take a few days, and they could not be exposed to direct sunlight or close to high heat, otherwise they would easily crack.
After doing all this, the night had already grown deep.
The campfire crackled, reflecting the rough outlines of that row of clay blanks in the corner, and also reflecting my side face, covered in mud spots but carrying a sense of accomplishment.
Today, I did more than just plant my first batch of hope and explore the unknown; I also marked the beginning of my “handicraft” journey.
From gathering and planting to hunting and attempting pottery, the steps of civilization in this isolated valley are being pushed forward, step by clumsy but determined step, by me, this imposter “Shu,” in another form.
After a simple wash, I lay down on the hard rock, my body resting on a rough straw mat, which was a little more comfortable than last night.
Gazing at the brilliant Milky Way outside the cave entrance and listening to the faint sound of the stream in the distance, fatigue washed over me like a tide.
Before my consciousness sank into darkness, my last hazy thought was: tomorrow, I should try to make something with that bamboo pole…
Also, I wonder if the fish trap caught anything…