That's Called Separating Solids from Liquids

"Jackpot." Zhou Mo, Quehou, and the others stood beside the deep pit, staring down at the ghost stones mingled with the soil, their faces alight with excitement. "Stationmaster, we really found them! There are so many ghost stones here!" "Though this doesn't look like a dung pit. It looks more like someone deliberately hid the ghost stones here." "I know what happened!" Zhou Mo said, sudden realization dawning on him. "I should have thought of this sooner! Didn't I just say? That big shot must have had plenty of attendants, and before leaving, he had them dig out all the ghost stones from the dung pits, right? "And being human, they were bound to be selfish. The attendants must have gotten greedy. Instead of handing over all the ghost stones, they dug a deep pit and stashed a bunch of them here, planning to come back later and take them away. "Only, for whatever reason, they never made it back." "Brilliant." Chen Fan stood rooted in place with a complicated look, gazing at the ghost stones jumbled with the dirt inside the pit. Then he looked over at Zhou Mo, whose face shone with enlightenment, and at the crocodile, who looked just as enlightened. Yes—it wasn't just Zhou Mo who had suddenly "understood"; even the crocodile looked as if it had experienced a burst of epiphany. Too much time had passed since those dung pits had been in use; even the crocodile couldn't smell anything at the bottom. The excrement had all turned to fossils, without a trace of stench. Zhou Mo's guess was wrong. If that were truly the case, a hundred and eighty years had passed. Since that big shot was a high-level cultivator, he could certainly have extended his attendants' lifespans; they wouldn't have stayed away for so long without ever returning for the buried ghost stones. And if their lifespans couldn't be extended, they would have died of old age long ago. Furthermore, anyone serving at the heels of such a figure wouldn't be so devoid of tact or foresight as to do something so stupid—giving in to petty greed over a handful of ghost stones. That left only one possibility. It was just so revolting that he really didn't care to voice it. "All right," Chen Fan cut off everyone's speculation with a chuckle. "No need to overthink it. Who cares whose it was? As long as we're the ones who found it, it's ours. "Let's get to work. Pack up every last ghost stone and take them home." Half an hour later. All the ghost stones in the deep pit had been excavated. During that time, Chen Fan had continued searching the vicinity, but never found a second pit like it. "Stationmaster, there's just one thing that feels really bizarre." The group was already perched on the crocodile's back, heading down the mountain to return to camp. Zhou Mo held tightly to the ridges of the crocodile's dorsal scutes, unable to suppress his grinning excitement, mixed with a hint of perplexity. "Where do you think the ghost stones in that pit came from? A haul with no rhyme or reason like that just makes you feel uneasy spending it—like someone might knock on our door to collect a debt at any moment. "Not to mention, there were so many in that pit. "Far more than both of Weiwei's dung pits put together." "Brilliant." Deadpan, Chen Fan glanced at Zhou Mo, who was practically bursting with curiosity. After a pause, he sighed and said faintly, "That wasn't some mysterious pit. That was a dung pit too. It was Weiwei's parents' dung pit. "The ghost stones inside were naturally shat out by Weiwei's parents. Where else could they have come from?" "That doesn't make sense, though," Zhou Mo scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "If Weiwei's parents shat them out, why wasn't there any dung inside? The earlier dung pits all had dung. Even after so much time, the droppings turned into rock-like fossils." "Because Weiwei's parents were fastidious," Chen Fan replied faintly once more. The moment the words left his mouth, Sick Monkey and Wang Mazi exchanged a look and instantly understood the situation. In silence, they opened their hands, holding them out into the rain to let the downpour wash them clean. "Fastidious?" Sitting on the crocodile's back, Zhou Mo looked bewildered at the people around him. Why did it feel like everyone understood except him? So that deep pit really was a dung pit belonging to Weiwei's parents, and not some stash secretly buried by a big shot's attendants? Before long. The party returned to camp. The hour was growing late; it wouldn't be long before darkness fell completely. Chen Fan hopped down from the crocodile's back. Standing inside the sinkhole, he looked toward the main wall of Cave No. 1. Being back here brought a true sense of belonging. Smiling at Wang Kui, who had come out to greet them, he spoke. "Have the stones brought back earlier been stowed away? We've brought back another batch of ghost stones this time. Move them all into the warehouse." "Right away!" Wang Kui strode forward excitedly. "Stationmaster, this much of a harvest this time?" "Not bad," Chen Fan replied with a cheerful wave, turning to Qi Chong, who had just stepped out. "Light the fire and get some food going. Boil that octopus head for Weiwei, too. Let him have a head feast tonight—he earned his keep today." With that, he headed into the camp on his own to take stock of their gains and plan out the camp's next stage. "Brother Sick Monkey." Once the stationmaster left, Zhou Mo scratched his head in agitation and grabbed Sick Monkey, who was also about to depart. Completely baffled, he asked: "What did the stationmaster mean by that? What does he mean, Weiwei's parents were fastidious? If that pit really was a dung pit, why wasn't there any dung inside? Not even stone fossils formed from dung?" Sick Monkey paused for a moment, then sighed with deep emotion. "It means Weiwei's parents did their solid business in the earlier dung pits, and saved the runny business for the last one. "That's called separating solids from liquids. "Think about it. If you dump both solids and liquids into the same pit, isn't that nasty? When the rainy season comes, wouldn't it splash everywhere? "So Weiwei's parents separated their pits. When they wanted to drop solids, they used the front pits; when they had the runs, they went to that last pit. "The earlier pits were cleaned out by that so-called big shot. As for the last pit, maybe because it was just too disgusting, the big shot didn't want any part of it. "After all these years, the solid dung in the front pits hardened into stone, while the dung in the last pit was entirely liquid and got absorbed into the soil. So when we dug it up, there was nothing left of the waste—only ghost stones. "We're lucky Weiwei's parents were so particular about separating their solids and liquids. "Otherwise, there wouldn't have been anything left for us to scavenge. "All right, get ready for dinner. "Weiwei earned a big merit today, so Young Master's treating him to an octopus head. I'm going to go pick his teeth." Sick Monkey patted Zhou Mo on the shoulder and walked into the cave with a sigh of wonder. Left standing in place, Zhou Mo froze. After a long while, realization struck him, and he gave a thumbs-up in admiration. "Classy." Then, tilting his head in thought, he muttered to himself: "If that's the case, it looks like that senior couldn't live up to 'The sage never strives for greatness, and thus can achieve greatness' after all. "Leaving behind the runny stuff and only taking the solid?" He felt his own awareness in this regard was probably superior to that senior's. If it were him, he wouldn't have spared the runny pit either. He would've taken every last bit. Night fell gradually. The drizzling rain continued without any sign of letting up. There was still roughly half a month before the rainy season would end. The camp was bustling as everyone tended to their tasks, with Qi Chong busy preparing tonight's meal. Wisps of smoke drifted up to the cave ceiling and seeped through crevices in the wall. It gave the place a warm, lived-in feel of everyday life. Before dinner, Sick Monkey stood outside the wall, God-Slaying Spear in hand, aiming at the crocodile sprawled on the ground as he attempted to pick its teeth. As usual, he had done this several times already, and every time, Weiwei would squint in sheer pleasure. Weiwei's tongue was pressed flat against its lower jaw and lacked flexibility; licking its snout was a struggle, let alone curling back to clear food debris from the depths of its mouth. In the past, no one had ever done this for Weiwei, so every time Sick Monkey cleaned its teeth, Weiwei thoroughly enjoyed it. Yet today, for some reason, whenever Sick Monkey reached out with the God-Slaying Spear, Weiwei dodged and twisted away. "What's the matter, Weiwei?" Sick Monkey looked at the dodging crocodile in confusion, then glanced down at his God-Slaying Spear. After a while, a possibility occurred to him, and he asked hesitantly: "Is it because this afternoon, you saw the Young Master stabbing shit with the God-Slaying Spear?" Sprawled on the ground, Weiwei nodded vigorously, eyes brimming with grievance. "Fair enough." Sick Monkey glanced down at the God-Slaying Spear in his hand, then strode into the campsite and entered the Living Workshop, looking toward Xiao Qiu, who was busy at work inside. "Xiao Qiu, can your Living Workshop forge a spear? Make me one, will you?" "Sure thing, no problem." Xiao Qiu looked up at Quehou standing in the doorway, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and agreed with a broad grin. "You can even make that?" Just then, Chen Fan walked into the Living Workshop from the side and looked at Xiao Qiu in mild surprise. "The Living Workshop is only Level 4; I haven't upgraded it yet. If I remember correctly, spears aren't on the list of craftable items, are they?" Upgrading the Living Workshop to Level 5 required five hundred ghost stones, and demanded no heavenly materials, earthly treasures, or exotic treasures. Chen Fan had come this time specifically to upgrade the Living Workshop by a few levels; after all, the cost wasn't steep, and everything it produced was essential. He hadn't expected to overhear Xiao Qiu agreeing to Quehou's request. "I can." Xiao Qiu explained, quickly straightening up and setting down the hammer in his hand as the stationmaster approached. "Spears aren't among the special craftable items in the Living Workshop, but there are plenty of tools here—hammers, a forge, that sort of thing. By hammering ghost bone with these tools, I can make a crude spear. It's not complicated at all; it's quite simple. "Something with special effects like a ghost-skin map can't be hammered out, but simple things like spears or broadswords can. Of course, they won't perform nearly as well as exotic treasures—they're just barely passable. "For instance, today I requisitioned a few ghost materials from Wang Kui—mostly hides and pelts—and made a batch of coir raincoats for you and the others, Stationmaster. That way, you won't have to get soaked in the rain whenever you head out." "Impressive." Chen Fan looked thoughtfully at the fur raincoats and conical bamboo hats placed to the side. The craftsmanship was genuinely solid. None of these items were in the Living Workshop's catalog; the fellow had crafted them entirely by hand. Of course, that was also because the Living Workshop was fully equipped with tools; without them, Xiao Qiu could have worked himself to death and still produced nothing. Chen Fan knew about the requisition of ghost materials; Wang Kui had mentioned it to him, and Chen Fan had specifically instructed Wang Kui that if someone requested cheap ghost materials, there was no need to run it past him—Wang Kui could use his own judgment. Of course, currently, Xiao Qiu was practically the only one in camp with reason to request materials. Still, the camp's population would gradually grow; establishing procedures early would prevent chaos when there were more people later on. He hadn't known what Xiao Qiu wanted the materials for, and hadn't expected results so quickly. "Well done." Chen Fan grinned at Xiao Qiu, noticing the faint look of anticipation in the man's eyes. "Great work. I like the initiative. I hadn't even thought of raincoats and hats, yet you not only thought of them, you actually made them. Good job. "Step outside the workshop for a moment. I'm going to upgrade the Living Workshop." "Right, right away," Xiao Qiu replied promptly. After expending five hundred ghost stones, the Living Workshop upgraded from Level 4 to Level 5. Not much changed on the panel. It merely unlocked two new special daily items that could be crafted: Ghost nails, and... ghost banners. Ghost nails: As the name implied, a special kind of nail, exceptionally hard, forged from the bones of ghost creatures. As for ghost banners, there was more to them. Every faction possessed its own "banner." At great distances—say, several kilometers away—one could only vaguely spot a passing column of troops; forget facial features, even ordinary banner patterns would be completely illegible. That was when a "ghost banner" came in. No matter how far away, so long as the banner was vaguely visible to the naked eye, the pattern upon it could be seen with pristine clarity, instantly identifying which faction the distant column belonged to. It served as a means of declaring identity. The "Jiangbei Chen family" had its own ghost banner, bearing an emblem of crossed sabers and swords. Chen Fan did not upgrade to Level 6. Upgrading to Level 6 required two thousand ghost stones. That could wait until after the rainy season; he needed to finish building the Meat Grinder first, and during the rainy season, resources took priority for city defense structures. "Good." Chen Fan said, turning to Xiao Qiu standing nearby. "Forge me a batch of those ghost nails as soon as possible. I need them urgently. As for the ghost banner, there's no rush, but you can all brainstorm ideas. "Come up with a proper name for our faction. "And an emblem for the banner that looks both low-key and ostentatious. "Once the rainy season ends, "we'll formally take our seat at the table as a new faction." "Understood!" Xiao Qiu took a deep breath and answered firmly. Whether it was Xiao Qiu's efficiency or because ghost nails were remarkably simple to craft, dinner wasn't even ready before Xiao Qiu had finished a batch of ghost nails. "Phew..." Chen Fan took the ghost nails and let out a long breath. Grasping the bone hammer, he strode toward the mouth of Cave No. 1's warehouse. He had long wanted to nail that damn wooden board over the entrance; leaving it propped on the ground beside the opening made the camp look like it was on the verge of bankruptcy. Minor matters, to be sure. Yet it was precisely these small details, pieced together, that gradually made the camp look like a proper home.