Volume One, Chapter 8: Repairing the Bow and Arrow

Liu Feng’s Adam’s apple rolled as he held Mu Wanqing’s slender waist, gazing at her slightly glossy lips. Under the faint moonlight, the atmosphere in the room became intensely intimate.

“My lady, you are truly beautiful,” Liu Feng whispered softly.

Mu Wanqing’s cheeks flushed, the redness spreading all the way to her earlobes. Nervousness gripped her heart, causing her hands to clutch tightly at the collar behind Liu Feng’s neck. Her eyes remained closed, her long lashes fluttering gently in the night breeze.

Mu Wanqing watched this scene and smiled quietly to herself. Her husband was unable to resist once again. The first time had been her initiative, and he was simply incredible—like a mighty ox—leaving her breathless countless times.

Indeed, it had been over a month since her sisters had married into the family. Yet, they had never shared a room before; last night was their first time. Though they were now truly husband and wife, it was only one night, and her heart longed to continue tonight.

“Brother Liu Feng.”

Just as Liu Feng’s heart stirred and he prepared to steal a kiss, a stranger’s voice called from outside the courtyard, accompanied by hurried footsteps that forced them apart in a flurry.

Mu Wanqing lowered her head shyly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tidied her clothing. Liu Feng wore a face full of helplessness.

He watched three figures step into the courtyard, feeling speechless: “Suddenly, I regret telling them to send their men over!”

Originally, Liu Feng had thought that strength lay in numbers and that many matters required the combined effort of the entire village. That was why he had agreed to trade goods for grain.

Liu Feng stepped outside, and the leader, Old Tian Eight, approached him and placed some wood down with a simple, honest smile.

“My wife said that Brother Liu Feng wanted to exchange grain, so I came to give it a try.”

“How did you know I needed wood?”

Old Tian Eight scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Brother Liu Feng, you’ve prospered now. Even Li Ergou fears you. Surely you need to build a house.”

“If not now, then after the New Year, so I went to chop trees.”

The other two men, Wang San and Yang Guazi, were also villagers—simple, honest farmers.

“Alright…”

“Qing’er, Qing’er, bring a few bowls of mixed grain rice,” Liu Feng called to the two women inside.

These three men were straightforward and honest—always diligent in supporting their families without any deceit.

Such people were usually loyal, so Liu Feng did not hold back, giving each two bowls of rice and declaring, “Bring me all the wood you can carry.”

Old Tian Eight smiled bashfully, “One bowl is enough for me; I don’t need that much.”

If it were anyone else, Liu Feng might have given more, but this big, simple man’s modesty made him see great potential—someone who could be a loyal and trustworthy subordinate if properly nurtured.

“This is what you deserve. Don’t be shy; take it,” Liu Feng said warmly.

Then he asked, “You often go up the mountain—have you found any good zhe wood?”

“If you bring some back, I’ll pay you with rice.”

“Brother Liu Feng, I remember there are a few not far from the back mountain. I’ll put the rice away and go chop them now. I don’t need grain for that.”

“One is enough for us,” Old Tian Eight replied straightforwardly, with the others nodding in agreement.

These were honest, reliable men—the kind of people you could count on.

“Good. Go with confidence. As long as you work sincerely for me, you won’t go hungry.”

The three humble farmers were momentarily speechless, realizing this unexpected fortune was theirs to grasp.

Liu Feng’s offer of rice was generous. Wood was extremely expensive in the city, especially top-quality timber like this. For some simple grain, this was a guaranteed profitable trade.

However, in this famine-stricken chaotic era, filling one’s belly was the first priority. Carrying wood to the village was barely manageable; hauling it all the way to the county town to sell was a fool’s errand—exhaustion and failure were certain.

Thus, chopping wood for Liu Feng in exchange for grain was their best choice.

The extra bonuses and promises were simply ways to win people’s hearts.

On reflection, Liu Feng realized he was practicing the great leader’s philosophy in this otherworldly realm: the rich leading the poor, guiding the entire village to prosperity. When they reached moderate prosperity, even the governor of You Prefecture might come to learn from him.

With this thought, everything became clear—this was the path to wealth.

Why focus solely on hunting?

Indeed, poverty had limited his imagination.

Liu Feng placed the three logs carefully, looking over his own courtyard’s layout.

Though called a courtyard, it was nothing more than a thatched hut—worn and dilapidated because the original owner was too lazy to repair it.

Winter was approaching, and with only his own internal heat and tattered clothes, he could barely hope to avoid freezing to death.

Liu Feng prepared to rebuild his house based on memories from his past life.

He no longer dreamed of three bedrooms and a living room—just three timber-framed rooms that stayed warm in winter and cool in summer, including a living room, bedroom, and kitchen.

He planned to build a large traditional northwest kang bed in the bedroom—warm and comfortable.

Easier said than done, building three timber-framed rooms was no small feat. Rammed earth walls took time, or he could opt for mud bricks to build 24 walls.

A rough estimate showed he needed over ten thousand bricks—an enormous project.

Therefore, to gather over ten thousand bricks, Liu Feng had to rely on the strength of the whole village.

In the end, money was still the key.

Liu Feng felt a headache coming on. This was no small expense—where would he get the funds?

Forget the house; he hadn’t even settled the bad debt owed to Zhang Yuanwai.

It was all because the previous owner was foolish—owing just a few taels of silver for wine but borrowing from Zhang Yuanwai anyway. Now, less than half a month later, interest had compounded into dozens of carts.

So, no matter how he looked at it, it all came down to money.

Without money, not only was building impossible, but living peacefully under Zhang Yuanwai’s harassment was doubtful.

After dinner, Liu Feng decided to repair the family’s bows and arrows, which explained why he needed the zhe wood.

As night fully descended, Liu Feng was examining the old bows and arrows. Now he understood why the previous owner had stopped hunting with a bow.

Though the bow’s body was made of decent wood, it hadn’t been well cared for and snapped easily under pressure.

Liu Feng tested the bowstring next.

To his surprise, it was made from braided deer sinew—extremely strong and elastic.

He was pleased.

Suddenly, Old Tian Eight arrived, panting and carrying several pieces of zhe wood.

“Brother Liu Feng, take a look—are these usable?” Old Tian Eight panted.

How could they not be? Liu Feng could tell with just a glance that these were exactly what he wanted.

They were about the thickness of a small bowl’s mouth, slightly curved, and of moderate length.

“Not bad, not bad…”

“Wait right there…”