Qin Ziwen turned around and hurried home.
He was very curious about why the Home system, which had been silent as a grave since awakening, would suddenly send a message.
After returning home and closing the door, he summoned the Home system's little glowing ball.
The little glowing ball floated before his eyes, transmitting a stream of information.
【Current residential complex awakened Home households exceed 5% of surviving households. When exceeding 20%, second transmigration countdown will begin: 3 days】
【Next stage map: No permission】
【Next stage stay duration: No permission】
【Next stage supplementary residents: No permission】
Qin Ziwen's expression turned grave. When households with awakened Home systems exceeded 20% of the complex, it would trigger the next stage of transmigration.
At first glance, it seemed like there was plenty of time, with only 5% reached after fifteen days.
But the Home system was referring to surviving households, meaning those empty or extinct families wouldn't be counted.
If a natural disaster or major catastrophe occurred, increasing casualties, this ratio would naturally rise more easily.
Moreover, from the key information provided, after the next transmigration, new residents would be added.
He just didn't know how they would be added—whether they would directly enter empty houses, or if new residential complexes would merge with theirs.
More importantly, there would be a second transmigration.
Ice Age? Great Desert? Island? Grasslands? Or perhaps the plains downstream along the river, or deeper into the mountains behind them.
Having lived here for half a month, he actually thought this place was quite good...
Abundant resources, close to water source, suitable temperature.
If they changed locations, it might not be as suitable as here.
Turning around, he entered the blacksmith shop. On the anvil, Li Tieshan continuously hammered iron ingots, shaping them into the required component forms according to the blueprints.
Behind Iron Mountain, Xiao Wu was operating the bellows, purifying the iron ore.
Qin Ziwen called out to his brother, "When you finish this, go cut some wild boar meat and come with me to trade for coarse salt."
Qin Ziwu's face was flushed red by the firelight. Staring at the flame color, he operated the bellows to control the temperature, replying without turning his head, "Okay! Let me finish this bit first."
"Ding!" Li Tieshan set down his hammer and said to Qin Ziwu, "You go accompany the master first. I'll handle the bellows."
"It's fine, you continue working. I'll go handle some business first."
Leaving the blacksmith shop, Qin Ziwen came to the beast cage and noticed the hay stored on the ground nearby was almost eaten up again.
Carrying three fish traps, he went to the eighth floor.
After knocking, Deng Wen opened the door a crack. "Uncle Qin, my parents went to the rooftop to smoke meat."
"Okay, I'll go check. Leave these fish traps at your place for now. Tell your parents about them later. Also, don't open the door casually if strangers knock." Qin Ziwen reminded before leaving.
"I know. I only opened because I saw it was you through the peephole." Deng Wen giggled.
Yesterday, her dad brought back a large portion of wild boar meat, and this morning her mom cooked a big pot of crispy bone soup.
Many people in the residential complex couldn't even eat their fill, and the surrounding land had basically been scraped bare. Yet she could frequently eat meat, and she understood perfectly well who this all came from.
At the dinner table, her dad described the dangers Uncle Qin faced while killing the wild boar, and how others got gored by wild boars and were still recuperating at home.
Arriving at the rooftop, Qin Ziwen saw Deng Guang smoking meat. "You're smoking it directly like this? Without salting it first, it won't keep for long."
Deng Guang looked troubled. "Where would I get salt? I don't even have enough for my own consumption. I'm smoking part of it first—smoked is better preserved than unsmoked anyway."
Qin Ziwen said, "Isn't there someone in the complex with a salt well? I'm planning to go trade for some. Want to come along?"
Deng Guang hesitated. "Will he sell? The price won't be too outrageous, will it?"
"Probably not. He needs to sell his salt to profit, and this is coarse salt, not refined salt. He can't fill his stomach just eating salt."
...
Returning to his residence, Qin Ziwen gathered Zhao Pu and Deng Guang, plus Qin Ziwu, and the four of them went to Zhang Bo's home.
Zhang Bo's location was easy to find. Since obtaining the salt well, he had been doing business selling coarse salt in the residential complex.
They arrived at Building 4, Unit 2, 202.
A plaque hung at the door reading "Salt Mountain."
The style somewhat resembled an imitation of Renhe Hall.
But compared to Renhe Hall's liveliness, Salt Mountain was much quieter.
After knocking, the door opened.
Behind the door stood a medium-built man in black long sleeves with ordinary features—the kind you might not recognize in a crowd. His only distinctive feature was his somewhat thin lips.
After opening the door, he first looked Qin Ziwen up and down, then glanced at the people behind him twice.
He welcomed them enthusiastically, "Come in, have a seat."
Inside Zhang Bo's home, two burly men were also sitting. The area around the sofa where the three had been sitting still carried a faint smell of smoke.
"Nine out of ten people who come here are buying salt." Zhang Bo took the main seat. "Here, have some tea."
He poured four cups of tea from the teapot.
After finishing, Zhang Bo leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. "How many pounds of salt do you want?"
After entering, Qin Ziwen felt something was off.
This Zhang Bo... gave him a deliberate feeling.
As if deliberately imitating a certain demeanor, but lacking the corresponding temperament, making it seem rather awkward.
"How do you sell your salt, and what do you accept for trade?" Qin Ziwen didn't state his requirements because if they were salting meat, for over two hundred pounds of meat, they would need at least thirty pounds of salt.
With such large demand, as the seller, Zhang Bo would certainly jack up the price.
Zhang Bo raised a finger, making a "one" gesture.
Qin Ziwen remained expressionless. "I don't understand. Just say it directly."
Zhang Bo smiled, "Ten pounds of pure meat for one pound of salt."
"You want how much? Ten pounds of pure meat for one pound of salt?" Qin Ziwen couldn't help but laugh in anger.
Zhang Bo made a gesture indicating Qin Ziwen not to rush. "My price is very cheap, brother. I'm the only one in the residential complex with a salt well—I have a monopoly. For an essential monopoly item, I'm only charging ten pounds of meat for one pound of salt. I think I'm being quite fair."
"But this is coarse salt." Qin Ziwen frowned. "If it were fine salt, your price might be considered. For coarse salt at this price, you probably haven't even processed the salt you're selling to everyone, right?"
Zhang Bo shook his head, staring at Qin Ziwen with a mysterious smile. "I know you. Your surname is Qin. I heard you're good with food, and... you seem to have fish traps, right?"
Qin Ziwen felt angry inside.
After Xue E's publicity, his possession of fish traps had spread, so it was normal for others to know he had them.
"Here's the deal—lend me your fish traps, let me use them for half a month, and I'll give you ten pounds of salt!" Zhang Bo smiled. "How about it? You're getting a great deal. Ten pounds of salt is almost equivalent to a hundred pounds of meat. You couldn't catch a hundred pounds of meat with fish traps in half a month, right?"
"If you're this insincere, then forget it." Qin Ziwen stood up, and behind him, Deng Guang and the others stood up one after another too.
Zhang Bo said, "Don't be angry. Business is about negotiation. We can talk. If you think half a month is too long, how about twelve days?"
Qin Ziwen scoffed, "Before coming, I inquired. Others buying coarse salt basically trade three or four pounds of meat for one pound of salt. When it comes to me, it becomes ten pounds of meat for one pound of salt. Your ability to treat people differently based on their status matches your business acumen—if you don't have the capability, don't put on airs. New cards appear in the complex every day now. How many more days do you think your salt well monopoly will last?"
After being exposed, Zhang Bo's expression remained unchanged.
Business was business—wasn't it about asking for the sky and settling for less?
Watching Qin Ziwen's retreating back, a trace of malice flashed in Zhang Bo's eyes.
After leaving Zhang Bo's home, Deng Guang and Zhao Pu comforted Qin Ziwen.
"Ten pounds of meat for one pound of salt! If we need to salt our meat, our over two hundred pounds of meat wouldn't even be enough to trade for salt—we'd still owe him a hundred pounds of meat!" Speaking of this, Qin Ziwen found it ridiculous himself.
Qin Ziwen said, "I've implicated you. If it weren't for me, if you came to trade, he probably wouldn't demand such outrageous prices."
Deng Guang said, "What are you talking about? We're a collective. Besides, we're benefiting from your efforts with this meat too."
Zhao Pu comforted, "It's fine. Later we can ask someone else to buy for us. Anyway, he definitely needs to sell his salt."
"Tap tap tap."
Footsteps came from behind.
A man chased after them—one of the men who had been chatting with Zhang Bo earlier.
The man asked, "Do you still want to buy salt?"
"Did Zhang Bo send you?"
The man shook his head. "It has nothing to do with him. This is from my own family."
Hesitating for a moment, the man said somewhat sheepishly, "Back when those little islanders were discharging nuclear wastewater, I stocked up on two boxes of salt at home. I haven't finished them yet..."