Traveling to another world and becoming a local owner

After Mr. Yang left, Zhang Ling found Cao Shuan, who was still making steamer barrels, and gave him the drawings of the Jenny loom and jacquard loom, asking him to study them in his spare time.

Now that the cave has been dug, Zhang Ling will naturally take a look at it when he has time.

The villagers worked hard to level a large open space outside the brick kiln, and almost all the sand and gravel on the surface were shoveled away. Rows of bricks were neatly stacked, covered with mats woven from sedge.

"Fellow villagers, I just went to Zhang's house. Zhang Ling said that he agreed to let everyone come to the brick kiln to work, and he will pay the wages on time." Old Yang stood in the open space in front of the kiln, looking extremely happy.

"Uncle Yang, we don't ask everyone to come to work, but can each household provide one strong laborer?"

"Yeah, we definitely won't be lazy, even if we don't provide meals!"

"If there are not enough people, I can ask my wife to help, for free..."

Everyone spoke one after another, expressing their own ideas.

"Okay, let's talk about this after the brick kiln starts firing. It's still early, everyone should quickly clear away the weeds and stones around, and make more bricks..." Mr. Yang couldn't decide how many people to keep, so he could only let everyone start working first.

"Uncle, this brick kiln can burn 25,000 bricks each time. If two kilns are firing at the same time, that will produce 50,000 bricks. It takes 20 days from making the embryos to firing them. Even if all the laborers in our village come to work, I'm afraid they won't be enough!" After everyone left, the lame man limped up to Old Yang and said.

"Yes, with so many people, the expenses are too high. Alas! It's good to make money, but if we lose money, we are all from the same village, and we can't cheat other people's children. Let's wait and see about this matter! It's good to give everyone a job, but I don't know if the kid from the Zhang family can handle it!" Old Yang also felt that this matter was not easy to handle, and couldn't help but sigh.

"I understand, second uncle. Even if it's just to give the villagers more jobs, I will find a way to make these bricks well. From now on, I will stay here every day to supervise them working!" The lame man was also worried. Although the villagers were simple and honest, there were always a few who were cunning and treacherous. It didn't matter if they were lazy, but if it affected the quality of the blue bricks, it might ruin the whole thing.

The production of blue bricks is very complicated. The villagers dig clay from the foot of the mountain and need to spread it out on the open ground to dry. After it is dried a little, it is stirred and dried again. When the clay is completely dry, it is broken up and then sieved.

The dried fine soil is added with water to make mud, which is then stepped on barefoot by the village women until it becomes completely uniform.

Then a strong man from the village would hold a stone pestle weighing dozens of kilograms and beat and tamp the mud continuously. Another man would pick up the mud and throw it heavily onto the stone slab, pick it up and continue to throw it. After the mud has been thrown several times, it would be tamped with a stone pestle again. This process would be repeated many times before the brick mud was considered to be made.

The prepared bricks are divided into similar sizes, squeezed into shape using wooden molds, and then stacked in fancy patterns. There are gaps between the bricks to keep them ventilated, and straw mats are covered on the brick stacks to prevent rain or sun exposure. After drying naturally in the shade for several days, the stacks are turned over once, and the bricks are ready to be fired in the kiln after they are dry.

It was almost dusk when Zhang Ling arrived at the brick kiln. He was very pleased to see that everyone was still working enthusiastically.

When the villagers saw him, they were no longer as fearful as before, but greeted him happily.

When Old Man Yang and the cripple knew he was coming, they hurried forward and told him about their worries.

"Grandpa Yang, Uncle Lame, you don't have to worry. I think these two brick kilns are not enough! I plan to build houses on these fifty acres of wasteland in the future. Even if the brick kilns are not burning, everyone will still have something to do and make money." Zhang Ling smiled and told his inner thoughts.

The two were so shocked when they heard this that Old Yang immediately asked, "Don't talk nonsense, you idiot. Do you know how much money it costs to build so many houses?"

"Don't worry, Grandpa Yang, I have plenty of money!" Zhang Ling said, and took out a stack of banknotes from his sleeve. The mountain people were simple and honest, so there was no need to worry about not showing off their wealth. This move was just to give the two of them a reassurance.

"Oh! So many banknotes?" Old Yang was surprised, and then he said worriedly with a painful look on his face: "But you can't spend money like this! What's the point of building so many houses? There's no room for them!"

"Second uncle, please stop worrying about it. Xiao Ling is a capable man. Have you forgotten who his father is?" The lame man on the side hurriedly pulled him and signaled him not to ask more questions.

"Ah, yes, yes, you have your own plans for these things, so I won't ask any more questions. In this case, let them continue to make embryos and burn bricks?" Old Yang knew the taboos of traveling merchants very well. He knew that he had spoken out of turn, so he quickly changed the subject.

"Yes, Grandpa Yang, that's why I came here. Not only do we need to make these bricks, but we also need as many as possible. I'm waiting for the green bricks to come out of the kiln so that I can build a house!" Zhang Ling had hope in his eyes and spoke frankly.

"Okay, Lame Man, you will stay here every day from now on. You must ensure that the blue bricks are fired as soon as possible, and you must not be careless about the quality." Old Yang slapped his thigh, his voice sounded high-pitched.

"Okay, second uncle, once the bricks are baked, I can lead everyone to build a house." The lame man smiled innocently and seemed very happy.

"Grandpa Yang, take this money first. As long as anyone is willing to work in the brick kiln, we should not treat them unfairly. We should provide them with food and pay them at least some wages. Don't always think about saving money for me. The elderly and children in the village who can't do manual labor can be asked to pick up firewood and exchange it for money, so that everyone can have something to do." Zhang Ling took out three hundred taels of silver notes, handed them forward and said.

"Okay, okay!" Old Yang took the banknote tremblingly and couldn't help but burst into tears.

Seeing this, Zhang Ling said no more. He looked around and felt satisfied with everything.

When he was ready to go home, it was getting dark. Looking at the quiet village under the night sky, a thought that he had never thought of before flashed through his mind.

"Perhaps my ability is limited, but I can ensure that these kind and honest villagers have a place to live in old age, a place to work in adulthood, a place for the young to grow up, a place for the poor to rely on, help for the needy, and that the widows, the orphans, the disabled and the sick all have enough food and clothing." Zhang Ling walked on the country road muttering to himself, as if he had found the meaning of life.

At night, he thought of what Wang Huan said, and quickly found paper and pen, thinking about what kind of poems he should write.

"By the way, isn't that passage in Mencius, 'Born in sorrow, die in happiness', also a great phrase?" Zhang Ling was delighted and quickly picked up his pen to write.

“When God wants to give a man a great responsibility, he must first make his mind suffer, his muscles and bones tired, his body hungry… Then he will know that life is born in sorrow and death is in comfort!”

Zhang Ling deleted all the first few sentences, because there were no such allusions in this world. After writing two more poems, he put down his pen with satisfaction, started to wash up, and prepared to go to bed.