021 Weaving Cloth and Firing Pottery

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Lin Yan began experimenting with a group of children. They soaked hemp fibers in a solution of plant ash water for three days, then extracted and dried the fibers. The resulting hemp threads were much finer and softer than before. Grass Branch showed the most interest; she found the weaving techniques fascinating. If they could get better thread, they could surely weave the clothes Lin Yan described.

Five days later, a ball of fine, soft hemp thread was produced, astonishing everyone. Under Lin Yan’s guidance, Grass Branch wove several pieces of hemp cloth with the soft thread, which were then sewn together into a straight-cut jacket. Finally, they no longer had to wrap themselves in leaves; the jacket’s material was soft and didn’t irritate the skin. Lin Yan wore it with unrestrained joy.

The transformation from hemp fibers to thread had been so great that it felt like a new world had opened. Everyone’s minds started working, and they began various trials and experiments. Lin Yan described the styles of clothing she knew—separate tops and bottoms—and encouraged everyone to make them. It was like a tiny spark igniting a wildfire in the Sun Tribe, sparking a blazing flame.

People no longer simply hunted to fill their bellies; they understood the value of tools and could make all kinds of hemp cloth and hemp products. While Lin Yan studied weaving machines, Lao Hei brought tremendous news. After unrelenting effort, he had discovered a cave with soil unlike ordinary earth. He immediately brought back a basketful to show Lin Yan.

Fat Bao tested it and confirmed it was indeed clay—though not of the highest quality, it was clay nonetheless. “Is it really clay?” Lao Hei could hardly believe it. After searching so long, they had truly found it. Lin Yan nodded. “Come, I’ll take you to fire pottery.”

The two went to the Sun River, mixed water and clay, repeatedly kneading and pressing it, then shaped simple clay blanks—several flat plates. After air-drying, they returned to fire the pottery. Watching the clay change from dark brown to reddish-brown in the fire, Lao Hei’s eyes widened in amazement.

Before he could celebrate, there was a crack—a plate broke. Lin Yan quickly reassured him, “Don’t worry. Cracking is normal. We’ll try multiple times, find the right water-to-clay ratio, and better control the heat. We will succeed.”

Trusting Lin Yan, Lao Hei held onto hope. The first firing attempt ended with all the plates cracking—not a single success.

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Everyone watched with curiosity but understood the general firing process. Lin Yan was not embarrassed; she smiled warmly, saying, “It’s our first try, so failure is normal. We’ll gather more clay and keep working.”

“Alright,” Mao Mu was the first to respond.

Thus, led by Mao Mu and Lao Hei, a group of children went to see the clay deposit. It wasn’t far—about three miles southwest of Lin Yan’s home. Lin Yan saw a cave entrance, which inside contained animal droppings, indicating large animals had dug it. The passage sloped downward over two meters, and the black soil gradually faded into a yellow earth.

Watching the gradient of the cave walls, Lin Yan suddenly understood. The place they lived was lush with trees, with a surface black soil layer formed from countless years of fallen leaves and deadwood accumulation. Beneath the black soil lay denser earth, filled with gravel and stones. Digging deeper might reveal more layers. The underground resources were not as they appeared on the surface.

Lin Yan had overlooked this before, which explained why she had struggled to find suitable soil. After collecting several baskets of earth, the group returned to continue firing. For convenience, they set up a spot by the Sun River to shape the clay blanks and fire them simultaneously.

After two firings, the plates still cracked. They realized the clay blanks couldn’t be placed directly on the fire, so they dug a pit, arranged the blanks inside, and surrounded them with dry leaves and grass as kindling. Lin Yan repeatedly adjusted the water-to-clay ratio. After more than ten days of effort, they finally fired a plate without cracks.

The yellowish plate was about ten centimeters in diameter, crooked and rough, with a surface somewhat resembling stone. Lin Yan’s trembling hands filled it with water and observed carefully. Finding no leakage, she finally exhaled in relief.

Everyone else held their breath, eyes fixed on the plate, afraid to miss any detail. When they saw the plate truly held water without a single drop escaping, they were all amazed.

Mao Mu exclaimed, “It’s incredible! No leaks!”

Others echoed their amazement, their gazes burning with enthusiasm. Water Life excitedly asked, “Lin Yan, is this the plate you mentioned? Can you also fire bowls, cups, and other water containers?”

Lin Yan had calmed down. “Don’t get too excited. This is just the roughest pottery, far from what I want. The principle is what I explained. Keep experimenting. We can make not only plates and bowls but larger items too—anything you can imagine.”

The initial success inspired boundless enthusiasm, and everyone threw themselves into the pottery enterprise.

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Lao Hei and Mao Mu focused intensely on this. Every day thereafter, successful pieces emerged—of all shapes and sizes. After more than a month of continuous efforts, the bowls and plates were reliable enough for everyday use.

Lin Yan finally had the water cup she longed for, though it was just a simple cylindrical shape. As the children brought pottery home, the tribe immediately recognized the usefulness of ceramic products. The able-bodied men eagerly joined the pottery work.

With many hands and sharp minds, batches of various vessels were soon produced. These containers didn’t focus on appearance; their quality was judged solely by whether they leaked water. Given the primitive conditions, they couldn’t ask for too much. Lin Yan comforted herself that they had already taken a significant step and could improve gradually.

She sketched the shapes she knew with charcoal on stone slabs, instructing others to replicate them. While the pottery project flourished, Grass Branch came to Lin Yan, expressing how much fun she found weaving and asking how to make the spinning and weaving machines Lin Yan described.

Lin Yan noticed Grass Branch had a natural talent—an intelligent mind and steady temperament. Her creations were clearly superior to others. Lin Yan drew the weaving patterns, simple looms, and spinning machine designs from Room 0103, explained the principles thoroughly, and entrusted everything to Grass Branch.

The more Grass Branch listened, the brighter her eyes shone, eager to realize these ideas immediately. She left contentedly, clutching the stone slab. Lin Yan was delighted—having someone willing to delve deeply meant progress would come quickly. She just needed to pass on the knowledge from the science hall and wait for the rewards.

However, the only thread available was from hemp, and to use better cloth, new materials still needed to be found. Confined to this small world, Lin Yan wondered when they might ever venture beyond.

Looking at her contribution score, less than a hundred, she knew she had to work harder. She had Lao Hei and others continue firing pottery while having Mao Mu take her on excursions nearby. Mao Mu was restless since childhood, clever, and a good companion—someone who could also lead her quickly to safety if danger arose.