Confucian and Taoist Cultivation Starting from the Equipment Slot

Thinking of this,

Tong Yue placed a bamboo slip on the table, on which was engraved an inconspicuous location in the outer city.

"The stone is stored here; you can come and see it anytime." He stood up, hesitated for a moment, and then said it.

"Young Master Chen, the Tongxin Alliance was the first gang to discover the nameless ore deep in the Green Mountains."

"Although we lost to the Gongyuan Gang, we have more information about these ores than anyone else."

Chen Zhuo nodded and watched him leave.

He no longer cares whether these stones will yield Originium; he's now certain of one thing.

That means the Tongxin Alliance back then must have dug something out of the mountains.

But what he was more curious about was why things could be dug up in the mountains?

But clearly, he couldn't figure out how to solve this problem.

After Tong Yue left, Chen Zhuo carefully considered the deal in his mind.

The offer from the Tongxin Alliance wasn't substantial; it was merely a batch of Qingshan stones.

This is merely a vague possibility of obtaining Originium.

But their asking price wasn't high; it was just for appearances, not for risking their lives.

More importantly, they have information on the mineral veins.

The Gongyuan Gang monopolized the intelligence and supply lines in the outer city, but mineral vein data, which requires historical accumulation, cannot be completely swallowed up by a new gang in a short period of time.

Although the Tongxin Alliance is dead, its bones remain.

After some thought, he made his decision: it was worth a try.

The next morning, Chen Zhu changed into some inconspicuous casual clothes and went to the outer city alone.

Tong Yue was waiting for him at the street corner, still wearing that faded dark blue robe.

But today he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, which covered half of his face.

Without exchanging many pleasantries, Tong Yue turned and led the way, passing through two narrow alleys and stopping in front of an abandoned blacksmith shop.

Outside the shop were piles of old anvils and bellows, looking no different from the surrounding abandoned shacks.

Tong Yue pushed open a creaking wooden door, revealing a downward stone staircase.

The basement was larger than Chen Zhuo had expected.

Several oil lamps were lit around the room, providing dim but sufficient light for visibility.

The wooden shelves against the wall were piled with stones of all sizes, ranging from the size of a fist to the size of a human head; a rough count revealed no fewer than forty stones.

The stone's outer shell is dark gray, with some surfaces bearing bluish veins.

Several men dressed in coarse cloth shorts stood guard by the wooden frame. When they saw Tong Yue bring his men in, their eyes all fell on Chen Zhuo.

Those gazes held scrutiny, wariness, and a long-suppressed anticipation.

Tong Yue did not introduce Chen Zhuo's identity, but simply nodded to those people.

The middle-aged man in the lead took a fist-sized rough stone from the wooden shelf, placed it on the table, and pushed it in front of Chen Zhuo.

"Is this the raw stone of Qingshan Stone?" Chen Zhuo wondered to himself.

He didn't start working right away, but instead walked around the stone for a moment.

It looks like an ordinary rock, with a grayish shell and nothing special about it. The panel doesn't react either.

Is it that none of the stone panels are responding, or is it just this one that's not responding?

Chen Zhuo looked thoughtfully at the stones on the shelf.

He then asked, "Can you cut it open?"

The middle-aged man glanced at Tong Yue and pulled a dagger from his waist.

He made steady cuts, peeling away the stone layer by layer along its grain.

The stone shell was more brittle than it looked; a piece cracked off with the tip of a knife.

After three cuts, the stone broke in two, revealing a dull, grayish-white marrow inside.

Waste rock.

The middle-aged man had no expression on his face as he pushed the two stones aside.

Tong Yue's voice came from the side.

"These stones were all dug out from here," Tong Yue said, pointing to the cut surface of the waste rock.

"Each piece is like this, with an outer layer of stone shell and inside stone marrow."

Most of them were grayish-white, just scrap stones. But there were one or two," he pointed to three stones placed alone on the top shelf of the wooden frame.

"It's shiny inside when you cut it open."

Chen Zhuo walked to the wooden frame and carefully examined the three stones.

They were all larger than the waste rocks, and the blue veins on their shells were denser.

He placed his palm on one of the pieces, and felt a faint coolness in his palm, a very slight and fleeting coolness.

The panel does not display item information.

But the cool touch was exactly the same as the feeling he had when he held the Originium in the mine.

However, the coolness of Originium is bone-chilling, and this coolness seems to be suppressed by the stone shell, only slightly seeping out from the deepest part.

Chen Zhuo withdrew his hand and looked at the group.

"I've looked at the stones. Now tell me what you really want."

Tong Yue and the middle-aged man exchanged a glance.

Then Tong Yue spoke, his voice more sincere than when he was at the Chen residence.

"We don't want money; we can give all of these stones to Young Master Chen."

Chen Zhuo raised his eyebrows.

"We need three works, poems or scriptures are fine, you can sign them, you can decide the content, the only requirement is that they be written in the outer city and for the people in the outer city to see."

The works were released to the public by the gang during the long night; we only need the distribution rights for these few works.

In exchange, Young Master Chen can freely browse through all the mineral vein data we have stored.

Chen Zhuo did not respond immediately after hearing this.

He quickly considered the terms in his mind; the asking price was very shrewd.

Tong Yue didn't want money or material goods; what he wanted was a platform for cultural exchange.

The publication of three works signed "Chen Zhuo" by Tongxin Alliance is tantamount to announcing to the entire Qingshan County that Song Juren's disciple is endorsing them.

This kind of endorsement is far more effective than dozens of gang members, and even more effective than a mere student.

For Chen Zhuo, the right to be credited for his works is in his own hands, the content is under his control, and the benefits of fame always belong to him.

It's like exchanging a few pieces of writing that would have been needed to accumulate during the long night for a batch of raw stones, a batch of mineral vein data, and a long-term cooperative relationship with an underground force.

"I can give you the distribution rights, but I have one condition: all works must be credited to Tongxin Alliance."

This isn't me endorsing you; it's a collaboration. Your name will be listed at the beginning, followed by the poem.

Tong Yue was stunned for a moment.

Chen Zhuo looked at him and continued:

"Letting people know your gang's name is more useful to you than my personal reputation."

Moreover, it's not "Chen Zhuo standing up for the Tongxin Alliance," it's "Chen Zhuo cooperating with the Tongxin Alliance." We each get what we need, and there's no question of anyone owing anyone anything.

Clearly, this condition surprised both of them.

Then the middle-aged man whispered to himself, "This is better than we originally thought."

Tong Yue glanced back at him, then nodded vigorously at Chen Zhuo.

"Do as you say."

Over the next two days, Chen Zhuo took out several poems from his previous life during breaks from guarding the city and rewrote them using imagery from this world.

For example, "The Charcoal Seller".

The charcoal seller cuts firewood and burns charcoal in the green mountains.

His face was covered in dust and soot, his temples were gray and his ten fingers were black.

What do you do with the money from selling charcoal? You buy clothes and food.

The poor man is dressed in only thin clothes, yet he worries that charcoal is cheap and wishes for colder weather.