Early in the morning, just after Li Daoxuan got out of bed, he noticed an extra line of text on the box that read, “Wangjia Village.”

Huh? When did this line appear?

Perhaps after last night’s drunken revelry?

Yesterday, the entire Gaojia Village celebrated with drink, as festive as a holiday. Villagers who’d enjoyed their fill danced merrily, refusing to sleep even after dark. They lit a large bonfire outside the village, where a crowd of miniature figures danced awkwardly around it.

Li Daoxuan, never a drinker, couldn’t help but pour himself a few glasses of beer to join the villagers in their merriment. After that fun, he grew curious about the taste of Wuliangye. One sip led to another, and he got thoroughly drunk, losing clear memory of the rest.

Only now, after crawling out of bed, did he notice that the Rescue Index had risen further, and the words “Wangjia Village” had appeared on the box.

It seemed his view had expanded several more miles overnight, incorporating Wangjia Village. Who got rescued? Not exactly sure. Whatever. As long as he ignored the Rescue Index, no one could pressure him into overexertion.

Li Daoxuan tapped his finger on the words “Wangjia Village,” and his perspective instantly shifted there. What greeted his eyes was a village twice the size of Gaojia Village, but most of thatched huts were burnt ruins. The entire place lay desolate.

Unlikely to be wrong, this must be the village where Wang Er led the uprising. Most of Wangjia Village’s inhabitants had followed Wang Er away, with only a few families relocating to Gaojia Village.

Li Daoxuan let out a long sigh. He took out his medical nebulizer, pointed it skyward over Wangjia Village, and began spraying.

Then, he ordered an oil tea delivery. After washing his face, rinsing his mouth, and going through his usual morning chores, the oil tea arrived. Holding the paper bowl, he sat down by the scenic box.

After half an hour of spraying, the land surface of Wangjia Village was thoroughly moistened, no longer a desolate expanse of cracked, parched earth.

He put away the nebulizer and switched the view back to Gaojia Village.

This dawn in Gaojia Village wasn’t as lively as usual, a sign that many were still nursing hangovers. The day after a wild celebration often brought exhaustion.

Yet, the “study well” operated normally, just like any other day.

The children had already completed their morning exercises, drunk goat milk, and were now seated in rows, beginning their recitations.

Even Young Master Bai had joined in. Although he’d long finished the basic primers, Hanyu Pinyin was entirely new to him. Thus, Mr. Wang had to give him special remedial lessons.

Li Daoxuan took out his phone, glanced at the prepared volumes of guiding ideological texts he had bookmarked, and sighed. Introducing these books to the kids now was too early. He still needed to wait; rushing wouldn’t help.

Just as he thought this, a craftsman hurried into the study well clutching some small wooden blocks. He called excitedly to Mr. Wang, “Sir, I’ve carved the Pinyin characters. May you please review them?”

Mr. Wang was overjoyed. “Show me.”

The craftsman was the woodcarver from before. What he held was precisely the woodblocks for printing.

During the Ming Dynasty, movable-type printing was already in use. Common Chinese characters were carved onto small wooden blocks. When needed, these blocks were arranged in a small wooden frame, pressed onto paper, and a page could be printed.

The woodcarver had now completed the Pinyin alphabet. He dipped a block in ink, pressed it forcefully onto paper with a thump, and a “a” appeared, stamped clearly like a seal.

Mr. Wang exclaimed delightedly, “Very good! This is ‘a’. And the others? Print them all out. I’ll check each one.”

The woodcarver picked up more blocks. With a series of click-clack sounds, he stamped every Pinyin letter onto the paper.

Mr. Wang examined each character meticulously, his excitement growing. “Excellent! Not a single error. You truly meant what you said about careful, detailed work.”

Praise visibly lit up the woodcarver’s face.

Mr. Wang asked, “Then, can we begin printing the divine book Hanyu Pinyin now?”

His heart stirred with excitement. This was the celestial language taught by the Deity. To print it into a book would grant him a heavenly text! Teaching it to other children constituted ‘transmitting the lost wisdom of past sages’ – a lifelong aspiration for any scholar.

The woodcarver shook his head with mild awkwardness. “Apologies, but with just these letters, printing a book is impossible. I still need to carve all the common characters.”

His words jolted Mr. Wang awake.

In a city, a craftsman would only need to carve the Pinyin characters, pairing them with pre-made wooden blocks for common characters acquired from established printers. Print runs could start immediately. But Gaojia Village was virgin territory for publishing. Not only were completely new Pinyin blocks needed, but so was every single common character block. There simply was no quick way around this.

“Aiya!” Mr. Wang clutched his head, slightly frustrated. “With you being the one and only woodcarver, preparing all the common characters would take ages.”

The woodcarver also felt uncomfortable. “There are too few in my trade… I can’t find anyone to help share the load. Sincerely sorry. I need more time.”

As they conversed, Young Master Bai, who’d been eavesdropping, suddenly stood up. “This matter is easily solved.”

They both stared at him, startled.

Young Master Bai grinned. “Just send someone into the county town and buy Chengcheng Bookstore. Problem solved! Then we haul all their pre-carved common character blocks to Gaojia Village. Paired with this craftsman’s fresh Pinyin blocks, we start printing that very instant.”

Holy crap! That woke the dreamer!

Mr. Wang and the woodcarver froze simultaneously. This… was actually an option?

Li Daoxuan also couldn’t help but chuckle silently. Exactly! Why hadn’t anyone thought of this before? Ah! Got it! Most talents in Gaojia Village came from humble origins. The handful of educated individuals like Thirty-Two, Mr. Wang, and Clerk Tan had climbed from poverty. Life circumstances hardened their problem-solving approach – “Grit my teeth and push harder” rather than “Just throw money at it.”

With Young Master Bai here, problem-solving just gained a whole new dimension.

Mr. Wang exclaimed happily, “Young Master Bai, this mission belongs to you alone!”

“Me? Impossible.” Young Master Bai spread his hands, expressing regret. “I’m thirteen years old. If I tried buying a bookstore, they’d slap me with a hard pinch and kick me out.”

Both listeners inwardly thought: You’re Young Master of Bai Family Fortress! Who besides your own mother would dare pinch your cheek?

Still, a half-grown child attempting to buy a bookstore was incredibly strange. Even if the owner wouldn’t physically pinch him, they’d likely refuse to take such a business proposition seriously. This needed a grown adult.

Young Master Bai clasped his hands towards Mr. Wang with a respectful bow. “Sir, you are a scholar. Surely you’ve bought books from Chengcheng Bookstore before. The owner must recognize you. If you casually claim you struck gold, arrived with coin in hand to purchase his business, it would be perfectly logical. With you negotiating, closing this deal would be effortless.”

Mr. Wang paused, his eyes widening slightly. “Ah… That makes excellent sense!”