Chief, don't hit me in the face

Chapter 12: The Survival Maniac

In those days, there was no paper; bamboo slips were used for writing. Occasionally, animal hides and silk were used for portability and preservation. “Isn’t that a bit of a waste?” Silk was scarce; like grain, it could be used as currency, so writing on it with dye was naturally a waste. “As long as I think what you’re saying is valuable enough, it’s fine!” Mo Wu Heng didn’t want to waste time on such trivial matters. “All right!” Xia Ye didn’t care—it wasn’t his money anyway: “Then I’ll start with the weapons!” “Mm-hmm!” As they’d discussed earlier on the way, Xia Ye wanted to have a set of wilderness survival gear custom-made to prepare for the upcoming Blood Survival Trial. As a mechanical engineer, Mo Wu Heng had both the confidence and the ability to do so. “I need a Nepalese curved knife and a tactical axe—here’s exactly what they should look like!” Xia Ye picked out a dagger that felt right from the shelf and sketched its outline on the ground. “Haha, what on earth is that shape? It looks like a dog’s leg!” Mo Wu Heng couldn’t help but chuckle. Most weapons these days had straight blades or a slight curve, but a design as exaggerated as a dog’s leg simply didn’t exist. Just as Xia Ye was about to explain, Mo Wu Heng suddenly exclaimed in surprise, “Huh, with this curve and shape, shifting the weight to the tip of the blade seems to make it better suited for chopping—perfect for use in mountainous forests!” Watching the androgynous girl fall deep in thought as she swung her arm, mimicking the slashing motion of the “dog leg” blade, Xia Ye marveled: A genius is a genius. Though she didn’t understand the principles of mechanics—and had never even seen the actual weapon—she was able to make an accurate judgment based on experience, and everything she said was spot-on. “The front section of the blade is heavier, so by using inertia, you can conserve some energy, and it can easily inflict extremely deep wounds—slicing through flesh and severing bones!” Xia Ye explained, “Because its shape closely resembles a dog’s leg, it’s also called a ‘dog-leg knife’!” “Judging by the name, is this a local weapon from Nepal? Where is it?” Mo Wu Heng pressed. “I don’t know—I just happened to come across it on a bamboo slip!” Xia Ye couldn’t very well tell her that Nepal lies at the foot of the Himalayas—otherwise, what would he do if she asked where that mountain was? “Hmm!” Mo Wu Heng looked at the illustration of the axe: “Why is it called a tactical axe? It looks like it has a short handle.” “Because, in addition to killing people, it can be used to destroy and remove all obstacles, build camps and fortifications, and so on! As for the short handle, it’s designed for easy carrying and throwing!” Xia Ye explained. “It looks really cool!” Mo Wu Heng nodded. “I like the name. And what are ‘fortifications’?” “Uh!” Xia Ye was taken aback. Are all mechanical engineers this curious? “With all due respect, aside from adding extra weight, doesn’t all this gear you’re carrying seem to offer little help in combat?” Mo Wu Heng asked skeptically. In this Post-Stone Age, although bronze weapons had begun to be used, they weren’t widely adopted due to their high cost. Most tribal warriors heading out to hunt or explore the wilderness still used swords and knives crafted from carefully selected stone. However, stone had its drawbacks—it was prone to breaking and lacked durability—so a warrior had to carry at least two long stone knives and one short knife. In the wilderness, weapons were a warrior’s most trusted companions; no one dared to be careless. For every child in every family—regardless of gender—the very first gift they ever received was always a stone knife! “This is my fighting style!” Xia Ye had already thought this through: his father’s heirloom, the bronze sword “Four Seasons Song,” was undoubtedly the work of a master swordsmith—a true masterpiece—and was more than sufficient as a primary weapon. The northern region is mostly hilly and mountainous with dense vegetation. The dog-leg curved blade, used as a secondary weapon, serves not only for clearing a path but also for handling sudden combat situations. The tactical axe counts as a secondary weapon of sorts, primarily used for defense within a thirty-meter radius and for throwing to injure enemies. Actually, he should have brought a long sword, but no matter how high its quality, it couldn’t match the “Song of the Four Seasons,” and carrying it would be a waste of energy, so he decided to leave it behind. “Good!” Mo Wu Heng took a quick look at Xia Ye. This was a thoughtful young man—unlike other youths who chose weapons based solely on the blacksmith’s fame and the weapon’s appearance! “I also need a crossbow—as compact and lightweight as possible, with a range of eighty meters.” Xia Ye continued sketching: “Thirty arrows, please. Use bronze arrowheads shaped like these wolf’s-tooth serrations.” “Tsk, tsk. That’s brutal. Once those barbs sink into flesh, there’s no way to pull them out easily!” Mo Wu Heng remarked in admiration, “These two horizontal lines represent grooves, right? Are they for draining blood? I never expected you to be so ruthless!” “Then prepare some poison for me to coat the arrowheads with.” Xia Ye decided to go all out. Mo Wu Heng was taken aback for a moment, then burst out laughing: “I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for your enemies. By the way, isn’t using bronze arrowheads a bit of a luxury?” “I only care about lethality—cost is irrelevant!” Xia Ye wasn’t short on money these days. “You really are a spendthrift!” The apprentice crouching nearby, his envy mingled with jealousy, couldn’t resist a sarcastic remark. Mo Wu Heng frowned, put away his things, and wiped away the weapon sketch on the ground with his foot: “Follow me.” Watching the two of them walk into the workshop, the apprentice’s heart nearly broke. For a mechanical engineer, the workshop is their absolute private domain—not even parents or children are allowed inside. Allowing someone to enter signifies the utmost trust and recognition. “Isn’t he just a half-blind good-for-nothing?” The apprentice muttered under his breath. With his limited understanding, he had no idea what the two weapon blueprints Xia Ye had drawn actually represented. If he were to sell them, they’d fetch at least a hundred gold coins each! After all, even a single detail in certain weapons shines with the designer’s ingenuity and embodies a philosophy. A genius like Mo Wu Heng is capable of drawing inspiration from a wide range of sources, so those two blueprints were the richest source of nourishment for them. The workshop wasn’t large; maps and blueprints were pinned to the walls, and wooden shelves lined the perimeter, displaying various models and tools. “Please have a seat!” Mo Wu Heng picked up two bamboo cups, poured some dark red liquid from a clay jar, and handed them to Xia Ye with a mischievous smile: “Give it a try!” “Thanks!” Xia Ye took a sip; the tart, astringent flavor spread through his mouth, causing him to furrow his brow slightly as he looked down at the cup. Inside the bamboo cups, the dark red liquor rippled gently. “All right, let’s continue. I’m in a hurry!” Xia Ye urged, setting the bamboo cup down on the table. Pfft! Mo Wu Heng had been expecting Xia Ye to be stunned, to ask her what it was and why it tasted so good, but when she saw the look on his face, she was instantly devastated. “What’s wrong?” Xia Ye asked. “Nothing!” Mo Wu Heng looked at the glass in confusion, then glanced at Xia Ye. That shouldn’t be right—shouldn’t he be shocked to be drinking wine made from rare grapes? Shouldn’t he be trembling with awe? Right—he must not know what this is! Just like how you can’t explain ice to a Xia Chong. “I also need a survival knife!” Xia Ye sketched a diagram. “Doesn’t taste good? It’s a bit tart at first, but a sweet aftertaste follows.” Mo Wu Heng explained. This was a grape wine worth a fortune—the sip Xia Ye had just taken was worth at least ten knife coins. Her father had given it to her as a reward after she recreated the Mechanical Samurai. She usually couldn’t bring herself to drink it, but now that she’d offered it to Xia Ye, his foolishness—valuing the box over the pearl—left her feeling a bit annoyed. “Did I really misjudge this person?” Mo Wu Heng muttered to herself. Given her status, she’d initially agreed to help Xia Ye craft equipment solely for the sake of that rare artifact. It wasn’t until she saw the blueprints for the two new weapons—combined with his refined manner of speech and composed demeanor—that she invited him into the workshop. This was a form of recognition—but did he even seem worthy of it? “Fine wine in a night-glow cup—but the drinking set is subpar!” Xia Ye pursed his lips. Mo Wu Heng, who had assumed Xia Ye was nothing special, took another sip of wine—only to hear those words, which startled her immediately. Pfft! Wine splashed all over Xia Ye’s face. “I’m sorry! Mo Wu Heng’s face flushed as she frantically wiped the wine off Xia Ye’s face, but her curiosity only grew: “Since you knew, why—” “Why aren’t you surprised?” Xia Ye smiled. “Hehe!” Mo Wu Heng scratched her head, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t like it!” Xia Ye explained offhandedly—it was just wine. He’d never tasted a ’82 Lafite, but he’d had his fair share of the cheap stuff from the supermarket. “That’s character!” Mo Wu Heng gave him a thumbs-up. She could tell Xia Ye wasn’t just putting on airs—after all, many people, the moment they hear the name of a wine, can’t wait to take a sip, acting so cautiously as if they’re afraid to spill a single drop. But this handsome young man hadn’t even glanced at his glass again. “All right, let’s continue!” Watching someone like Mo Wu Heng—who clearly wasn’t short on money—sip the grape wine in small sips, Xia Ye thought of his vineyard and the wooden barrels in the cellar. It looked like he was in for a big profit. “A very practical design!” As he studied the diagram and listened to Xia Ye explain the purpose of each part of the survival knife, Mo Wu Heng’s eyes grew brighter and brighter, filled with the excitement of discovering a new world. “A straight blade—no sheath needed, just a leather holster!” After finishing his explanation, Xia Ye began sketching one drawing after another. Tight-fitting leather armor, gloves, wrist guards, long boots with spiked soles, a travel bag made of animal hide, a simple tent, a sleeping bag, rain gear, a portable waist pouch, a multifunctional belt, a water bladder, a small copper flask… Throughout Xia Ye’s entire description, Mo Wu Heng remained fully focused, furiously jotting down notes. While these items didn’t require much technical expertise, they exuded an epoch-making design philosophy. Take the travel bag, for example: it featured five side pockets for organizing different items for easy access, along with handles on the front and sides. Keep in mind that in this era, tribal warriors heading out to battle would simply carry their weapons, pack a handful of salt, and bring a backpack—such thoughtful design considerations were unheard of! These tools were like sparks that ignited Mo Wu Heng’s creative thinking; they not only broadened her horizons but also provided her with plenty of inspiration. After a long while, Mo Wu Heng exhaled a breath of stale air and gradually calmed down from her excitement. Looking at the twenty-eight pieces of silk covered in densely packed text and patterns, she slumped limply in her chair, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. “That’s enough for now!” Xia Ye thought for a moment: “We’ll refine them later!” Hearing this, Mo Wu Heng jumped up like a cat that had been stepped on, her wide eyes fixed on him. “Just leave it at that for now? Improve it later? By the ancestors, do you have any idea what kind of impact this will have on the warriors if it gets out?”