Returning to her own home, Jiang Zhi and Qiaoyun ate corn porridge before everyone set about their separate tasks.
Qiaoyun stayed home to peel Green Fruit Shells, planning to grind more Qinggang Powder each day to share some with Xiao Man’s family.
Jiang Zhi took up her firewood axe and hoe, slung a basket on her back, and headed out.
She needed to gather some firewood while also deepening her understanding of the forested mountains surrounding their dwelling.
Although they had moved nearly half a month ago, these past days had been spent either busy repairing the house or building the kang, or else gathering Cyclobalanopsis acorns in the woods right outside their door—she hadn’t ventured more than fifty meters out.
Not far from their new home stood the Charcoal Kiln.
Jiang Zhi had seen this most primitive method of charcoal-making before—a basic skill any wilderness survivor must master.
It simply required neatly stacking logs of uniform length and size into the kiln pit, covering the outside with yellow mud while leaving ventilation holes, then lighting a fire from the lower side to ignite the wood inside. Once the moisture evaporated completely, the pit would be sealed with soil for smoldering carbonization.
In the past, rural households would always fire up a kiln themselves come winter, but the practice had been banned due to heavy pollution.
This charcoal kiln hadn’t been used in three years. The kiln walls on both sides had collapsed from rainwater erosion, and scattered around were previously discarded logs and branches.
Exposed to sun and rain, the miscellaneous branches had all rotted away, leaving only the branches and trunks of blue oak trees still sturdy.
Jiang Zhi gathered these usable pieces of firewood together, planning to take them back for cooking.
The charcoal kiln was situated on a relatively gentle slope. Apart from low shrubs, the area was overgrown with messy, withered grass.
As Jiang Zhi cleared away the shrubs and weeds, she also collected the countless scattered stones of various sizes on the slope, piling them together. These stones weren’t trash—she had important uses for them later.
This was the wasteland Jiang Zhi had long eyed for cultivation. Now, by clearing and tilling it in preparation, she could sow seeds as soon as the rains came.
For every section of withered grass and shrubs she cleared, she dug a shallow trench along the slope, placing the stones she had collected into it and stacking them by size to form a two-foot-high ridge.
Then, she leveled and spread out the soil from the upper part of the slope. At a glance, layers of neatly arranged terraced fields suddenly appeared.
However, merely leveling the slope wasn’t enough for farming. This was a rocky mountain with thin soil layers, where neither water nor nutrients could support high-density crop growth.
Moreover, the newly reclaimed soil was raw earth—unfertilized and unwatered, still filled with the roots and stems of miscellaneous trees and weeds. It wouldn’t yield good crops for the first few years.
This was also why few in ancient times were willing to reclaim wasteland.
Without sufficient base fertilizer, reclaimed land would remain barren, growing only weeds.
Furthermore, the government collected taxes based on acreage, regardless of harvest outcomes, leaving farmers who reclaimed land at a loss.
Unless a Great Grace Decree was issued, encouraging reclamation with three years of tax exemption.
Jiang Zhi had a solution to this problem. She collected topsoil from other areas and spread it over the newly built small terraced fields, not only deepening the soil layer but also enhancing fertility.
This topsoil largely consisted of leaf humus—airy, permeable, and excellent for planting.
Unfortunately, this method could only improve a limited area of land, much like rooftop gardening—unable to cultivate several or even over a dozen acres of mountainous terrain.
After setting up five layers of terraced fields here, Jiang Zhi returned to help Qiaoyun grind Qinggang Powder.
The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law chatted for a while, envisioning a bright future together, and thus another busy day passed.
After a simple dinner, washing her face and feet, she collapsed onto the warm, heated kang, feeling every bone in her body relax.
Ah!
A plot of land, a cow, a wife and children gathered around a warm kang—the contentment after a day of physical labor was the most relaxing.
Simple happiness truly is humanity's instinctive pursuit, and indeed, it never deceives!
Lost in these thoughts, Jiang Zhi relaxed both body and mind and soon drifted into a dream:
…She saw "herself" once again reclining on the sofa with a large cushion.
On the coffee table, her favorite chrysanthemum-shaped lamp was still glowing, and beside it, the AI voice from her phone continued reading a novel at a leisurely pace.
The pet cat Mimi rolled over, lying on its back with all four paws in the air, dreaming who-knows-what as its little paws twitched and kicked…
Was she in a dream, or was she inside a book?
This time, Jiang Zhi felt no surprise. She calmed her mind, trying to hear clearly what the AI robot was reading.
As soon as she thought this, the previously indistinct reading voice suddenly became clear, and even images appeared, as if she were experiencing it firsthand.
It turned out to be the same male-oriented novel she had transmigrated into.
"…Village Chief Xu Pingmao of Xu Family Village led a group of several dozen people toward the prefectural city, where sturdy walls awaited.
Yuzhou Prefecture was four hundred li away from Xu Family Village. Under normal circumstances, even the strongest men would need seven or eight days to walk there. But now, burdened with families and belongings, they had traveled only twenty li after nearly a full day of walking.
One moment, a family's chicken would fly off, the next, someone's goat would butt someone in the rear, or a carrying pole would snap its rope, or a back basket would spill its oil.
Xu Pingmao was furious, shouting, 'I told you to slaughter the chickens and ducks and bring them along! How are we supposed to keep these live animals?'
The villagers paid him no mind, joking with Village Chief Xu Pingmao: 'Don't worry, Uncle Village Chief. Once the chickens lay eggs, we'll send some to your house.'
Within the group, Nie Fantian walked silently, carrying his own bundle.
He had secretly felt his bundle earlier. Aside from clothes, it contained a few flatbreads, some boiled sweet potatoes, and a packet of rock-hard dried sweet potatoes.
The dried sweet potatoes had been steamed and sun-dried, allowing them to last a long time without spoiling.
What surprised him most was that, at some point, a string of cash had appeared in his bundle.
A string of cash amounted to one thousand wen, equivalent to one tael of silver—enough to keep him well-fed on the journey.
Nie Fantian felt both angry and puzzled: This string of cash was likely half of the family's savings. What trick was that wretched woman playing? Why would she give him money?
Was it like before, where she would falsely accuse him of stealing, then drag him to a crowded place and beat him up?
The thought of that vicious aunt made Nie Fantian uneasy.
But now, his aunt was no longer by his side, unable to scold him anymore. So why would she give him money?
This question was far too complicated for a sixteen-year-old like him, so he could only bury his doubts deep within.
As the villagers chattered noisily and stopped to rest and eat, refugees from the roadside began to gather around.
In truth, they had encountered several groups of refugees since leaving the village, but the Xu Family Village group was large, and the refugees had kept their distance, not daring to approach.
Those who had tried to rob them had been scared off by a few loud shouts, which was why the Xu Family Village group had been able to travel so lightly and cheerfully.
But this time, the refugees they encountered were clearly unafraid—or perhaps the food the Xu Family Village people had taken out, along with the clucking chickens, was simply too tempting.
The group of people were disheveled and filthy, thin as hemp stalks, with sallow, lifeless faces.
Upon seeing the people of Xu Family Village, they lunged forward like starving wolves spotting fresh meat.
Village Chief Xu Pingmao shouted, "Grab something and fight back, quickly fight back!"
The refugees also brandished clubs and sticks.
Instantly, chaos erupted on the official road—people brawled, while frightened chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep panicked.
Amid the crowd, Nie Fantian, gaunt and seemingly frail, found no outlet for his pent-up rage. He drew a kitchen knife and charged into the fray.
Like a cat demon gliding through the night, his blade flashed, blood splattered, and a disheveled head soared high into the air…
"Ah! Murder!" screamed both the people of Xu Family Village and the refugees in terror.
Just then, a hoarse cry by her ear jolted Jiang Zhi from her dream, nearly stopping her heart.
"Mother! Mother!"
Xu Errui yelled outside the makeshift door, "Mother, get up quickly! The village down the mountain is on fire again!"
Jiang Zhi, still disoriented, trembled all over, her mind still haunted by the vivid image of the gleaming blade splitting a skull.