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墨書 Inktalez
"Night Pearl Powder!" Lin Dahe blurted out. The spots shimmering in the sunlight were exactly what he had previously fabricated as "Night Pearl Powder," but in reality, they were a special material annotated by the system!
Suddenly, a shout from Huo Lang Zhang echoed from a distance: "Collecting old books and scrap paper!" Accompanied by the rhythmic sound of bells, it was clearly some kind of signal.
Cui Xiaoman grabbed Lin Dahe's arm. "Hurry! The Inspection Office people are coming this way!"
Just as the two hid in the side hall of the ancestral temple, they heard the sound of synchronized hoofbeats approaching from the village entrance. Peering through a crack in the window, Lin Dahe saw more than ten black-clad officers armed with weapons. The leading official held up a sign that boldly read "Investigate Yao Shu."
At that moment, the system interface suddenly flashed red: [Ultimate Task Activated: Expose the Grain Storage Corruption Case within 72 hours, or face total extermination!]
The candlelight in the side hall flickered unpredictably in the draft, casting the shadow of One-Armed Veteran on the mottled wall, twisting like an eagle about to take flight. Lin Dahe stared at the flashing countdown on the system interface: [71:59:59]. His throat tightened. "Two thousand stones of moldy grain mixed with new grain... enough to poison half the county."
"Not just that." Old Soldier pulled out a turtle-shell-like iron plate from his pocket, which bore the inscription "Tianqi Year Seven Yanzhou Guard." "This was found on the corpse of Mad Old Woman's daughter—she was a clerk in the household department."
Cui Xiaoman gripped the edge of the table tightly, her knuckles turning white. "So my father..."
"Cui Junyi detected the mold toxin and wrote up a report overnight." Old Soldier's voice was like a dull knife scraping bone. "Zhou Liangzhang's father was then serving as an official in the household department and intercepted the documents at the post station."
The candle suddenly flared and went out. Lin Dahe recalled something hard at Aunt Ma's waist—could it also be such an iron plate? The system interface popped up an analysis: [Insufficient key evidence to identify the mastermind.]
"I need your farming skills as cover," Old Soldier said, his single eye glinting with intensity. "The people behind the Zhou family..."
A piercing scream suddenly shattered the night sky. Mad Old Woman burst into the ancestral hall, her hair disheveled and her bony fingers gripping Lin Dahe's shoulder tightly. "The well! The well is drying up!"
Black mud fell from her fingernails, carrying a pungent smell of sulfur. Lin Dahe's heart raced—this was characteristic of deep soil!
The old well at the village entrance was surrounded by villagers. Torches illuminated newly exposed water level lines on the well wall; at its bottom, green moss was visibly wilting. In the murky water at the bottom of the well, several small fish floated belly-up.
"Three days..." Seventh Uncle trembled as he traced his fingers along the markings on the well rope. "At most three days."
The system interface suddenly filled with blood-red warnings: [Water Source Crisis! Emergency Task: Dig an underground waterway to divert mountain springs.]
Requirements: Connect through the western mountain rock layers.
Deadline: Seven days.
Reward: Underground Water Resource Map.
Penalty: Relocation of the entire village (Main Task Failure).
Lin Dahe crouched down and dipped his fingertip into the well water. A sharp burning sensation made him gasp—it was excessively acidic! He looked up at the dark silhouette of the western mountains in the distance and suddenly realized: Mad Old Woman was not predicting natural disasters but man-made calamities!
"It’s Zhou family dumping Nitre into the mine!" Cui Xiaoman gritted her teeth. "They want to force us to sell our land and flee!"
The oil lamp cast a flickering circle of light over his sketches. Lin Dahe bit down on his pencil, staring anxiously at his contour map—the limestone layer between West Mountain and the village was over thirty zhang thick; it couldn’t be dug through with just hoes and shovels.
"If only I could get my hands on some gunpowder..." he muttered to himself, sketching an explosion symbol.
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