Chapter 16 - Chapter 12: Preparing for Winter

🍁Chapter 12: Preparing for Winter

🌍 Earth Date: October 22, 100 BCE – Late Autumn

The valley was calm when they arrived — a bowl of stone and spruce, ringed by ridges that broke the worst of the wind. The highlands were already kissed by frost, but this hidden pocket stayed just warm enough to buy them a little more time.

They'd need every day of it.

🔎 Scavenging for materials

Before even the wagons were fully unloaded, Junjie helped his parents and a few others begin transplanting what they could — fruit saplings wrapped in damp cloth, berry roots bundled in straw. They planted them carefully near the stream and covered them with cut grass to help insulate the roots. It might not be enough, but it was a gesture toward permanence, toward hope.

Chickens remained in their wicker travel cages for now, clustered near the stream where the grass was still green. Goats, sheep, and the rest of the inherited herd — cattle, mules, even the slavers' warhorses — had already been penned in temporary corrals made from gathered branches and stone. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. For now.

Junjie quietly deposited the stone and brick he'd salvaged from the old village at the southern end of the valley. The piles were artfully arranged in what looked like ancient ruins — remnants of a past no one could remember. He said nothing, letting the others discover it themselves as if the land had always kept these secrets hidden.

Soon after, small groups began scavenging. Children carried baskets for kindling while adults pried usable stone from the hillsides or dragged fallen branches from the woods. It was during one of these excursions that a girl stumbled upon the "ancient ruins," squealing in delight. By midday, half the village had gathered around the site, digging eagerly, their voices filled with reverence and excitement.

"It must have been some abandoned settlement. They failed, but we will succeed!" someone said. The phrase caught on, as it often did when something strange or unexpectedly helpful appeared.

Junjie even dropped off sacks of coarse salt from a mountain pass, slung over his shoulders like grain sacks

🧱 Roman-style concrete

In the middle of all this chaos, Nano buzzed in Junjie's head.

"You know... we could use concrete."

Totally out of nowhere.

Junjie blinked. "What's concrete?"

Nano gave a smug digital shrug, like he'd been waiting days for this question.

"Why not? Coal. Ash. Limestone. Gravel. Easy."

Junjie wasn't convinced, but he trusted the voice. So while the others sweated in the dirt—dragging logs, packing food, shaping crude shelters—Junjie was off playing scavenger. Hunting the cliffs and riverbeds for hunks of pale limestone, silt-heavy ash, and anything that matched Nano's increasingly specific mineral requirements.

With Nano guiding him, Junjie finally found the materials they needed. First, coal.

"Surface vein confirmed. Carbon density is high. Purity sufficient for sustained combustion. Fire control will improve significantly. Congratulations on unlocking Bronze Age Fuel Tier," Nano quipped, like a bored professor grading a freshman's term paper.

Junjie shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. 'Sometimes I wonder who's really in charge here,' he thought, amused by how easily Nano guided him to solutions.

But coal was only the beginning.

Nano steered him farther—toward pale, chalky limestone outcrops and the dusty black slopes of an old volcanic ridge near the cliffs.

"Pozzolanic material located. Silicate and calcium content within optimal range. Hydraulic binding potential: high. Primitive concrete achievable."

The volcanic ash was rich, dry, and powder-fine, clinging to the woven sides of their baskets. The limestone crumbled easily under hammer and chisel. Both were exactly what Nano needed. Combined with sand and water, the ash and lime could form a strange slurry that would harden stronger and faster than anything the villagers had seen.

Of course, they wouldn't know the real source of this knowledge.

Junjie returned to the village with two baskets slung from a yoke across his shoulders—one filled with pale rock dust, the other with gritty ash.

'I heard about this from some Western traders,' he said with a grin, brushing soot from his sleeve.

He talked his father into building a test kiln. People were skeptical, but curious. They cobbled it together from scavenged bricks and river stones, squat and sturdy beside the forge.

Coal from the nearby seam—yet another happy coincidence, the elders muttered—fueled the fire. But Nano simply confirmed:

"Combustion resources secured. Binder production underway. Structural advancement unlocked."

Soon, limestone was baking into quicklime.

From that: mortar.

From mortar: walls.

🛠️ Infrastructure

The communal lodges were built first, with wide stone foundations bonded with the new mortar. Post and beam frames went up next, pegged together with care. Women and children worked beside the men, weaving wattle panels for the walls, which were then packed with clay and sealed with lime plaster. Thatched roofs crowned the structures, angled steeply to shed snow.

Windows were small and fitted with wooden shutters. At the heart of each lodge was a hearth built from gathered stone, the mortar letting them use irregular shapes without losing strength. Smoke rose steadily from new chimneys — simple, sturdy towers that worked better than anything the villagers had built before.

Some of the elders chuckled as the smoke rose cleanly into the sky. 'Guess we owe the traders more than we thought,' one of them said with a half-smile.

"Mortar blend at 78% efficiency," Nano noted as smoke curled from the crude chimney.

They didn't know where the stone came from. They didn't ask.

As autumn deepened, they stretched a rope bridge across the narrowest bend of the northern river. It wasn't elegant, but it held. And it meant easier access to the far slope, where game was more plentiful and new groves could someday grow.

They built a barn next, wide and low, to shelter the animals during the coming snows. Then came a small workshop in what would become the artisan's district — a place for weaving, carving, and repairing tools through the long, cold months.

🏗️ Industrial Quarter

To the south, in what was already being called the industrial quarter, they laid the foundation for what would one day be the village's fire-born heart.

First came the forge chimney—tall and straight, built from river stones bonded with high-strength Roman concrete. It rose like a finger against the sky, venting the test-fires of a still-humble blacksmith's hearth. Junjie guided the work but deflected credit, letting others believe the clever venting and smoke draw were tricks picked up from old traders.

Beside the forge, they began shaping the footprint of something bigger.

A smelter foundation.

The foundation ring was poured in stages—thick and square, packed with gravel-heavy Roman concrete and braced with timber. No metal was wasted. 🪶 Nano was already thinking ahead, but for now, they built fast, strong, and simple.

Stone pillars were carefully cast in molds, then left to cure in the weak winter sun. The work was slow, but the villagers felt a strange pride in their efforts.

🪶 Wood is for warmth," Nano murmured privately. "Concrete is for eternity. But you already knew that, didn't you?

When the pillars were set, they bridged the gaps with salvaged wood beams, forming a pergola-style frame. The pitched roof would keep snow and sleet off the workers' backs without trapping dangerous heat below. A similar shelter rose over the kiln, its glowing belly coaxed back to steady life.

The site looked rugged—a skeleton of something greater. But it was clean, durable, and safe. The smelter's core remained unfinished. Nano offered no comment, just an offhand suggestion that the wind always howled strongest here, and perhaps it would prove useful later.

Junjie raised a brow but didn't press.

It was enough. For now.

🧱🔥 Forging the Future

Winter was coming quickly, but the valley had been generous. Stone, coal, water, wood—and just enough time for Junjie's vision to take root. Challenges loomed ahead, but for the first time, they had a true foundation. The walls of survival were up. But the real work? That was just beginning.

They would survive. Maybe even thrive.

As twilight deepened, Junjie gazed across the half-finished workshops and shelters, where stone pillars stood like sentinels and kiln smoke curled into the darkening sky. Four hundred souls huddled in the lodges behind him, heat and hope mingled in cramped spaces.

The walls would hold.

But winter pressed harder every day.

And the real work was just beginning.