After half a morning, the memories finally merged, and Jin Feng gained a deeper understanding of his host and this world.
In the host’s memories, he had heard of the Yellow River, the Yangtze River, and the Taihang Mountains.
The script, culture, and place names were not much different from his previous life, but for some unknown reason, the history was completely different.
For example, the current Great Kang Dynasty didn’t exist in his previous life’s history, yet it had been established in this world for over three hundred years.
The host had grown up in West River Bay, and most of his knowledge of the world came from the schoolteacher’s accounts, limited as they were.
To buy grain, one had to go to town, a round trip of over twenty miles on difficult mountain paths. By the time Jin Feng returned, it was mid-afternoon. The diligent Guan Xiaorou had already cleaned the house, washed the bedding, and hung it to dry in the courtyard.
Seeing Jin Feng return, she hurried over and took the sack from his shoulder.
The sack wasn’t heavy, containing less than ten jin of wheat, all that Guan Xiaorou’s money could buy.
“Why’s it so light?”
Guan Xiaorou paused, opened the sack, and saw it was wheat. Her heart sank.
She had expected Jin Feng to buy cheaper millet or sorghum, not wheat.
This small amount of wheat, even eating one meal a day, would only last two people a few days. What then?
Though she felt some resentment, she didn’t dare question Jin Feng, silently carrying the sack to the kitchen.
When she came out, she didn’t forget to bring a bowl of water, offering it to Jin Feng with both hands.
After walking for hours, Jin Feng was parched and gulped down the water.
Guan Xiaorou took the empty bowl and handed him a towel with her other hand.
“Xiaorou, you don’t need to do this.”
Her attentive care made Jin Feng uncomfortable.
“Before coming, my mother told me many times that if someone was willing to take me, I must be diligent.”
Guan Xiaorou lowered her head and said, “That you were willing to take me is a blessing from my past life. This is what I should do.”
Jin Feng knew these beliefs were deeply ingrained in her and wouldn’t change easily, so he didn’t press the issue. He turned and entered the blacksmith shop on the west side of the courtyard.
Calling it a shop was generous; it was just a small workshop, less than thirty square meters.
Jin Feng opened a wooden box and took out a fist-sized piece of raw iron, examining it closely.
In the host’s memories, after the old blacksmith died, the host, driven by necessity, had tried forging tools several times but always failed.
Whether it was a kitchen knife, a wood-chopping blade, or a sickle, they always chipped.
The Great Kang Dynasty’s smelting technology was very primitive. Most blacksmith shops forged tools by heating raw iron blocks in a furnace and hammering them into shape.
It was a simple process. Having grown up in the blacksmith shop, the host could mimic it. At worst, his work might lack refinement, but quality issues were unlikely. Yet, the host’s repeated failures led Jin Feng to suspect the last batch of raw iron the old blacksmith bought was faulty.
Upon inspection, his suspicion was confirmed.
The iron in the box had too many impurities. Simple forging would inevitably produce blades that chipped.
To make usable tools from this iron, the furnace and bellows needed improvement to reach a high enough temperature to melt out the impurities.
Guan Xiaorou returned the bowl to the kitchen and followed Jin Feng to the shop. After standing silently for a while, she mustered her courage and said, “Husband, there’s something I’d like to discuss.”
“What is it?” Jin Feng looked up.
“I’d like to visit my family tomorrow to borrow a loom from my sister-in-law.”
“Borrow a loom?” Jin Feng immediately guessed her concern.
He tossed the iron back into the box, “What’s the sense in a newlywed going back to her family to borrow things the day after the wedding? Don’t worry, I won’t let you go hungry.”
“Husband, I didn’t mean it like that. Please don’t be angry.”
Guan Xiaorou, like a startled deer, tried to explain.
“I’m not angry.”
Jin Feng patted her shoulder confidently, “Trust me, our days will get better.”
In his previous life, a pat on the shoulder was a simple gesture of comfort, but in Guan Xiaorou’s mind, it was an intimate act. She blushed, too shy to look at him.
The shyness eased her anxiety. She lowered her head and asked, “Husband, what are your plans for the future?”
“I’m going hunting in the mountains.”
“Hunting?”
Guan Xiaorou was taken aback.
If Jin Feng had said he’d read or work the forge, she wouldn’t have been surprised, but hunting?
“This batch of iron is faulty. The furnace needs modification to melt the impurities.”
Jin Feng pointed to the furnace, “Modifying it will take days. I need to hunt some rabbits in the mountains to sell for more grain.”
Guan Xiaorou glanced at Jin Feng’s slight frame, deeply skeptical of his words but not daring to argue. She just lowered her head silently.
Hunting wasn’t an excuse to comfort her; it was a plan he’d made on the way back from buying grain.
West River Bay was in northern Sichuan, just over a hundred miles from the famous Jianmen Pass, surrounded by vast mountains teeming with game. Making a bow and crossbow to hunt rabbits wasn’t difficult.
As long as they could hold out for a while, once he fixed the furnace and bellows, earning money would be easy.
Jin Feng didn’t explain further and nudged Guan Xiaorou toward the door, “You don’t know how to handle things here. I’ll take care of it. Go do something else.”
“Alright.”
Guan Xiaorou nodded obediently, heading off to tidy the courtyard’s clutter with lingering worry.
Jin Feng began crafting a bow and crossbow.
In his previous life, during graduate school, his mentor was a crossbow enthusiast. Over four years, Jin Feng had spent plenty of time at the range, becoming a skilled archer and intimately familiar with the structures of various bows, crossbows, and even ballistae.
But when he started, he found it far harder than expected.
The blacksmith shop’s tools were too primitive. Even choosing the simplest bow design, he only managed to roughly shape the bow frame after an afternoon’s work.
At dusk, Jin Feng ate his first meal in this world, also his wedding feast.
No elaborate rituals, no friends or family to celebrate, just him and Guan Xiaorou.
The meal was simple, even crude.
A small bowl of wheat porridge and a plate of greens seasoned only with coarse salt.
That was all.
The porridge wasn’t pleasant, the outer bran layer rough on the tongue, something Jin Feng wasn’t used to.
But across from him, Guan Xiaorou ate with relish.
At home, she usually ate wild greens or bran. Millet was a rare treat, and wheat porridge was practically a luxury.
Since becoming a “deadweight,” she hadn’t eaten it once.
So she savored each bite, holding it in her mouth to relish the wheat’s sweetness.
After finishing her bowl, Guan Xiaorou set down her chopsticks.
The bowl was scraped clean, not a grain or drop of broth left.
