📦 Chapter 18: Supply and Secrecy
🌍 Earth Date: February 4, 99 BCE – Late Winter ❄️
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -Â
A covert mission into the world beyond the valley.
🏕️ A New Stability
The basics were in place — shelter, tools, food stores, defenses. Life had finally shifted from desperate survival to sustainable progress.
But Nano wasn't built to settle. In the quiet hours, he pressed new ideas into Junjie's thoughts — glass windows to let in winter light, cleaner oils for better lamps, and metals that their small forge could not yet produce.
The communal lodges, with their wooden shutters and smoky hearths, were dark and drafty. Everyone worked by firelight or cold skylight, squinting over looms and spinning wheels. It was functional, but bleak. Junjie had endured worse, but the thought of better was difficult to ignore.
The next morning, he slung a sack over his shoulder and went to find his father.
🪵 Father–Son Negotiations
Chengde was splitting firewood near the goat pens when Junjie approached. The cold wind tugged at the edges of his coat, but he kept a steady rhythm.
Junjie dropped the sack beside him. "White sand from the river bend. Good stuff. High in the right minerals."
Chengde sifted a handful through his fingers. "So?"
"We've got the quicklime. This will do for the rest. It's enough to start making clear panes for windows — let in light, keep out the wind."
"Glass? For light?" Chengde's brow furrowed. "I've seen it hold oils and powders, but never turn away the cold."
"Why not both?" Junjie said simply.
After a pause, Chengde nodded. "It would help."
"We'll need to go to the city. I can travel veiled. Two wagons, nothing heavy. We trade hides, meat, what we have, and return quickly."
"That's risky," Chengde said. "Five, six days if the weather holds."
"We've done worse."
Chengde studied him, then nodded. "Fine. Pack warm. We leave before sunrise."
🥾 Through Ashes and Concealment
Their path took them through the ruins of the old village — charred timbers, scorched stone, and silence. No scavengers dared come here.
At the hidden fork where the new trail turned into the mountains, they worked to hide it further. Small pines and hardy brush were replanted along the curve until the gap blended into the wild. In another year, it would seem as though no road had ever been there.
🏜️ A Treasure by the River
Near the river bend, the morning light struck the pale sand, fine and untouched by soot.
Junjie scooped a handful into his sack to show his father. Then, when Chengde turned away, he quietly swept more into his hidden storage. It never hurt to keep some things aside for his own plans.
🛍️ Cloaked in Trade
The city paid them little mind. Traders in veils and worn coats were a common sight in the bazaar. Chengde greeted familiar faces lightly — enough to pass without drawing attention.
They bartered for essentials:
• Nails and horseshoes in bulk
• Cloth, leather, and raw thread
• Cooking oil, preserved olives, beeswax, and sealed jars of honey
• Pots of dye, bundles of rope, and cured wax
Junjie's hand hovered over a rack of iron spear tips, but Chengde caught his wrist. "Not here. Too many will remember who buys weapons. Nails, not suspicion."
Junjie exhaled and moved on. They bought an extra crate of horseshoes.
🔧 Quiet Acquisitions
While Chengde traded openly, Junjie drifted through the market with purpose. Under the guise of buying arrows, he gathered small items for future projects — copper wire, tin and lead ingots, a few bits of brass. All were tucked away into his hidden space before he rejoined his father with a fresh bundle of arrows.
📚 Seeds of Learning
Their last stop was an old bookseller's stall. Slate tablets sat in stacks beside baskets of chalk.
"It's time," Chengde said.
They bought:
• Twenty slates and bundles of chalk
• Basic primers — the Three-Character Classic, Family Names, and Thousand-Character Classic
• Abacuses, inkstones, brushes, and scrolls
"If we're building a future," Chengde added, "we need minds sharp enough to shape it."
🛠️ Building What Comes Next
The wagons rolled heavily, but they made good time. Chengde didn't question why the heaviest loads seemed easier over steep climbs.
Back in the hidden valley, work resumed at once.
Women mended cloaks and boots. Beeswax became candles, fats became soap, and no one shivered quite so much anymore.
The men raced to finish building before the next freeze.
They already had:
• A pottery kiln blazing day and night
• Blacksmiths shaping iron into tools and parts
• Carpenters carving beams, braces, and frames
• A weaving hall alive with looms and chatter
• A communal kitchen serving hot, shared meals
• The foundation of a glassworks rising at the camp's edge
This was no longer a refugee camp.
It was a village.
And it was here to stay.