Chapter 7: The Iron Pot Blueprint

Walking back the way he came, carefully following his own footprints, Chen Zhuo saved himself a lot of time on the return journey.

With a clear path to follow, he felt far more relaxed than when he’d arrived. He walked briskly, letting the gentle breeze brush against his face, savoring the quiet rhythm of the forest—the rustling leaves, the soft murmur of water behind him, and the occasional chirp of birds or insects in the distance.

He glanced at his map every now and then, double-checking his direction, while quietly memorizing key landmarks along the way—notes for next time.

By six in the evening, the sky, already dimmed by dust, finally darkened completely. Just as the last light faded, Chen Zhuo reached the shelter.

His clothes had dried out almost entirely during the trek. He pushed open the door.

Reaching down, he scratched the head of Tai Mei, who trotted up to greet him.

“Bread’s gone,” he said with a grin. “Today, I’m cooking roast pork for you.”

“Giggle-giggle.”

Whether Tai Mei understood or not was anyone’s guess—but she seemed thrilled, rubbing her little body against his pant leg twice before bouncing away.

But first, he needed to check the morning messages. Had anyone responded?

This time, everyone had replied. Too bad—by the time he got around to answering, the bandages had already been traded.

Still, two things remained: the iron pot blueprint and the corn seeds.

He started with Zhou Heng, the guy who’d sold him the blueprint earlier.

【Chen Zhuo: You still selling that iron pot blueprint?】

【Zhou Heng: Oh, sure, sure, bro! Just bring me some water.】

【Chen Zhuo: How much water are you looking for?】

Chen Zhuo decided to let Zhou Heng name his price first. It gave him a sense of the man’s character—whether he was honest or trying to play games—and helped him gauge expectations, setting up leverage for negotiation later.

【Zhou Heng: The blueprint’s green rarity. Two bottles of water, how’s that?】

【Chen Zhuo: You sure about that?】

【Zhou Heng: Uh… one bottle?】

The screen flickered with hesitation. Zhou Heng sounded unsure.

Chen Zhuo had been puzzled—how could a green-rarity item be so cheap? But now, the man himself had just lowered the price.

That made Chen Zhuo wonder: was Zhou Heng from some desert wasteland where water was rarer than air?

He typed:

【Chen Zhuo: You live in the desert?】

Silence.

Then—boom.

Zhou Heng launched into a flood of words, like a dam had burst. He didn’t even seem to remember they were strangers, barely two minutes into their chat.

He explained: once a construction worker, just like everyone else, suddenly dumped into this world. Most people had starting points with resources—some easy to get, others harder, but all usable.

Not him.

His spawn point? A godforsaken desert. All he had were endless dunes and cacti. Three days in, and his shelter was still just a basic wooden cabin.

He’d tried leaving.

No landmarks. Blindly wandered for a full day. Water ran out. And still, nothing but sand—endless, soul-crushing sand.

The only bright spot? Yesterday, he’d hacked to death a lizard. Dropped a chest. Inside: an iron pot blueprint.

He’d immediately listed it on the market, hoping to trade it for water.

But no one cared.

In the early stages, most survivors were still living off bread and bottled water. Why waste precious water on a blueprint for something you couldn’t even make?

And it was *iron*—no forge, no metal. Useless.

Zhou Heng had nearly given up, staring at an empty marketplace all day, until Chen Zhuo appeared.

Suddenly, hope.

He poured out his whole story—his desperation, his thirst, his loneliness—like a man finally unburdening himself after weeks of silence.

It felt good for him.

Not so much for Chen Zhuo.

Meanwhile, the corn seeds waited. But Chen Zhuo didn’t want to walk away from the blueprint either. So he gritted his teeth and listened.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling a pang of gratitude—compared to Zhou Heng’s nightmare, his own situation felt almost luxurious.

Sure, he had the system. But if he’d been born in that desert? Even with a system, what good would it do without resources?

Eventually, Zhou Heng realized he’d spilled too much to a stranger.

Back to business.

【Zhou Heng: One bottle. That’s all. I’ll give you the blueprint.】

“……”

A pause.

Then Chen Zhuo typed:

【Chen Zhuo: I’ll give you two bottles. But if you find anything similar, promise me you’ll think of me first. What do you say?】

Instant reply.

【Zhou Heng: Deal, bro. If I ever find something good, I’ll hit you up first… assuming I survive this apocalypse.】

Chen Zhuo clicked the trade window.

Zhou Heng listed the blueprint.

【Trader: Zhou Heng | Item: Iron Pot Blueprint | Required: Water x1000ml】

Trade confirmed.

He opened the blueprint instantly—got the recipe. Needed three iron ingots to craft it.

Before closing the chat, Chen Zhuo added one last message:

【Chen Zhuo: I’ve got a map. It shows the terrain of this world is totally different from Earth. Each zone is unique—like puzzle pieces stitched together. The distance between spawn points? About 15 kilometers.

If you can escape the desert by tomorrow, you might use the terrain to hide from the coming disaster.】

The reply came fast.

【Zhou Heng: Thank you so much, Brother Chen. If I make it through this, my life belongs to you.】

Zhou Heng meant it. No fancy words—just raw, simple gratitude. His family had taught him since childhood: never forget kindness.

Deep inside, he vowed—if he ever got a chance, he’d repay Chen Zhuo tenfold.

Chen Zhuo didn’t take it personally. He wasn’t doing favors out of pity. Just smart moves. Helping someone like Zhou Heng—honest, straightforward—meant fewer risks in future trades.

Next, he switched to the corn seed seller.

【Chen Zhuo: You still have corn seeds?】

Straight to the point.

After a long silence, the seller finally responded.

【Du Xin: Yeah. But you need enough stones.】

【Chen Zhuo: I’ve got ten stones. Is that enough?】

【Du Xin: These are 200g of seeds. Minimum twenty stones.】

The tone was sharp. Busy. Impatient.

【Chen Zhuo: But right now, there’s no way to farm. What’s the point?】

【Du Xin: That’s your problem. I want twenty stones.】

【Chen Zhuo: Here’s my deal: fifteen stones for the seeds. Next time you need stones, come to me. I’ll buy them all at the same price. Fair?】

A beat.

Then:

【Du Xin: Fine. Done.】

Trade complete.

Corn seeds secured.

Mission accomplished.

Only regret? No bandages.

But Chen Zhuo wasn’t complaining.

He’d gotten what he needed.

For now, that was enough.