Xiao Yuan had also brought a box of gold this time.
Su Muchen turned the ledger toward him, indicating that there was still plenty of gold left from before, implying that there was no need to bring more every time.
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and glanced at the ledger. The corners of the pages had been turned until they were slightly curled, and every transaction was recorded clearly. Even which batch of supplies corresponded to which box of gold had been marked with the date.
But he merely pushed the new wooden box across the table, as though he had not seen it.
“Keep it,” Xiao Yuan said.
Su Muchen glanced at him and did not push it back again.
He knew Xiao Yuan’s habit—once he gave gold, it was given. He never took it back.
But Xiao Yuan had come early today not merely to deliver gold.
“There is something,” he said, his tone a little heavier than before.
Su Muchen looked up at him and waited for him to continue.
“Pocket watches,” Xiao Yuan said. “I still need at least three.”
Su Muchen put down the pen in his hand. His gaze lingered on Xiao Yuan’s face for a moment, as though confirming the weight of those words.
Three.
Not one, not a spare—three.
“Guichen Studio doesn’t have any in stock right now. I’ll have to find them elsewhere.”
He turned the laptop toward himself and typed several keywords. A row of product pages appeared on the screen.
The prices of antique mechanical pocket watches ranged from fifty thousand to two hundred thousand, with even more expensive ones available.
He scrolled down two pages, then silently turned the screen halfway around so Xiao Yuan could not see the numbers.
Owl had said before that the pocket watch was “not worth much,” and he had actually believed him.
The pocket watch he had given Xiao Yuan was more expensive than his own phone.
Xiao Yuan silently watched his little movements but said nothing.
Su Muchen gathered his thoughts and turned toward Xiao Yuan.
“If you plan to use them long-term, I don’t recommend relying solely on pocket watches. Great Sheng’s current technology can’t reproduce them, and if they break, there’s no way to repair them.”
He could more or less guess what Xiao Yuan intended to do, as well as whom these few pocket watches were for.
Xiao Yuan was not surprised.
Such a precise mechanism was hidden inside a tiny round case. Even if he found the most skilled craftsman in the capital, there was no way to reproduce it.
Su Muchen glanced at him again before turning back to the screen.
His mind was already calculating another matter.
If pocket watches could not be reproduced, then what could allow an entire city to share the same time?
He did not continue looking up the prices of pocket watches. Instead, he entered another set of keywords.
The images on the screen changed—from an exquisite round case to a towering tower.
“There is another method.”
He turned the screen toward Xiao Yuan and pointed at a photograph—a clock tower.
“This is a clock tower,” Su Muchen said. “If you build a clock tower in Linbei City and let the entire city share the same time standard, it would be more practical than several pocket watches, and it would be less likely to break.”
Then he brought up another image.
It was an exploded structural diagram. Gears, the escapement mechanism, the gravity weight, the pendulum, and the timekeeping device were all clearly labeled layer by layer.
The lines on the blueprint were precise and orderly, like some kind of puzzle that had already been taken apart.
Xiao Yuan’s gaze fell upon the diagram.
His eyes moved from the number of teeth on the gears to the way the ropes were wound, slowly and intently, as though he were reading an unfamiliar map.
“What materials are needed?” he asked.
“Answer a few questions first.” Su Muchen opened a new input interface. “What metal do you use most often over there? How thick a copper plate can your craftsmen process? Do they have experience casting bronze?”
Xiao Yuan was silent for a moment, as though searching through his memories for the capabilities of the craftsmen.
“Bronze, iron, and wrought iron are all available. Casting bronze vessels is commonplace, but the size cannot be too large. Large castings are prone to cracking.”
Su Muchen listened while typing. The AI model on the screen began calculating, and the progress bar moved rapidly forward.
He asked quickly, as though chasing an answer that was taking shape.
“Gears can be made from bronze, and the bearings from iron or steel. Do you have steel?”
“We do, but it isn’t pure.”
“That’s enough,” Su Muchen said. “Insufficient purity can be improved through heat treatment.”
He turned to the next page and pointed at an enlarged partial diagram.
“The core of the clock tower is the escapement mechanism. This component requires extremely high precision. The error at the tips of the teeth cannot exceed the width of a needle. If your craftsmen can carve wood and make locks, they can make this.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at the diagram without speaking.
Su Muchen turned another page.
“This blueprint was generated by the AI based on the conditions I entered—the metallurgical level, the craftsmen’s technical abilities, the climate conditions. It took all of them into consideration. It will choose the gear structure most suitable for bronze casting, mark which components can be replaced with iron, and tell you the annealing temperature after casting, the direction in which the gears should be polished, and the assembly sequence. Every page has illustrations.”
He raised his head.
“Follow it step by step, and there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze rested on the blueprint, as though confirming something.
He had not expected that, in the short span of a few dozen breaths, Su Muchen would already have given him something he truly wanted.
He had not even had the chance to mention it, yet Su Muchen had already thought of it for him.
Su Muchen noticed that his gaze lingered for a moment longer on the point where the gears meshed, so he added, “This blueprint is a version that the craftsmen over there can understand. All the dimensions are marked using proportions, all modern terminology has been removed, and the steps have been reorganized.”
Xiao Yuan finally raised his head.
“How long will it take to build?”
Su Muchen was silent for a moment.
“If the craftsmen follow the blueprint step by step, starting with a small-scale model and then enlarging it, it will take at least a year at the fastest. If they understand it quickly, perhaps they can build the first functioning clock tower in half a year.”
He paused, his tone softening slightly, as though adding a reminder.
“But that is on the condition that you have enough iron, bronze, and time. In theory, it is feasible, but whether you can actually build it will depend on your craftsmen.”
Xiao Yuan did not answer immediately.
His gaze fell upon a line of notation at the edge of the blueprint. A line pointed toward the gravity weight, beside which was written:
Approximately thirty jin of iron required.
“Iron,” he said. “There are iron mines in the northern border, but we’ll have to dig them ourselves.”
Su Muchen was not surprised, as though he had known this was what he would hear.
“That is included in the materials as well. Ore processing, smelting temperatures, forging methods—everything is there.”
“…Everything?”
“Yes. Everything.”
Su Muchen pushed a stack of freshly printed papers toward Xiao Yuan.
“This is the final version: structural diagrams, parts list, assembly steps, material processing, tool recommendations, common problems and solutions. Six months for trial and error. If your craftsmen follow it, it should theoretically be possible to complete.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at the stack of papers.
The pages were still slightly warm, their edges neat. The diagrams and words on them were completely different from the handwritten notes Su Muchen usually produced.
The lines were straight, the proportions precise, as though they had been drawn by some invisible hand.
He reached out and picked up the top sheet. The blueprint showed a cross-section of a tower.
A long rope hung inside the tower, with a heavy weight tied to its end. At the top of the tower were gears and a pendulum.
He could not understand every line, but he understood the structure shown in the diagram.
It was a timekeeping system that required no one to watch over it—more accurate than a sundial, longer-lasting than a clepsydra, and more stable than an hourglass.
Something stirred faintly in his heart, but he showed nothing on his face.
“Keep looking for the pocket watches for me. As for the clock tower, I’ll secretly find people to make a trial model. If it proves feasible—I will establish Great Sheng’s first clock tower in Linbei City.”
Su Muchen nodded.
“Okay.”
He did not know when that clock tower would be completed, but he knew that Xiao Yuan had already made up his mind.
He thought that when the first clock tower rose in Linbei City, it would probably be quite magnificent.
He picked up his pen and recorded the details of this transaction in the ledger.
Xiao Yuan put away the documents. His gaze lingered for a moment on Su Muchen’s laptop, then swept over the tablet beside Owl.
He was silent for a moment, as though weighing something.
“Can this thing be used in Great Sheng?” he asked.
Su Muchen froze for a moment.
“You mean the laptop? The tablet?”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
Su Muchen thought about it.
“Without the internet, most of the functions won’t work. But if it’s an e-book or plain text materials, then it can—”
“No.”
Before Su Muchen could finish, Owl, who had been sitting quietly behind the counter all this time, spoke.
His voice was not loud, yet the atmosphere inside the shop instantly sank.
The two of them turned their heads toward him at the same time.
Owl put down his tablet, his expression completely different from his usual lazy demeanor.
He straightened his body. There was no smile on his face, and his gaze behind the lenses was like a tightly drawn line.
That was the expression of a “gatekeeper.”
“Su Muchen,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “You cannot cross the boundary.”
Su Muchen fell silent.
This was the first time Owl had ever addressed him this way.
Owl knew very clearly that Su Muchen was different from him. He had never received an education in the knowledge of the “Ancient Gate.”
Su Yunxiang had not told him much, so there were many things concerning the Gate that he did not know.
Now, he could only be the one to explain them.
“Things passing through the Gate must maintain a balance between both sides. Every single thing taken from here must have something of equal value come over from the other side. The reason nothing major has happened during this period is because the gold Xiao Yuan paid was enough to offset it.”
“You sent seeds, pocket watches, and the clock tower blueprints over there. As long as he can afford the price, I can turn a blind eye.”
He paused.
“But electronic devices—do you know what that means?”
The shop fell silent for a moment.
Su Muchen did not answer.
He knew what Owl was referring to.
If the information on those screens flowed into Great Sheng, the impact would not be limited to a few people. It could affect the entire world.
Technology, knowledge, history—any one of them could cause that world’s trajectory to deviate.
Not to mention a large quantity of e-books and documents.
Owl looked toward Xiao Yuan again.
He knew that Xiao Yuan had ambitions, and that those ambitions were so great that even Su Muchen could not see through them.
What Xiao Yuan wanted had never been merely the throne.
The gaze behind Owl’s lenses grew even deeper than before.
“Your Highness, if the Gate becomes unbalanced, the price may not be borne only by the person sending things through. What is paid may not merely be gold. It could also be a life, or something even more serious.”
He paused.
“You must remember—the Gate is neither evil nor good. If you wish to use it, you must follow its rules.”
This was the warning of a gatekeeper of the Ancient Gate.
The room was utterly silent.
Su Muchen felt the tense pressure in the air and spoke first.
“Sorry. From now on, whenever we want to send something new to Great Sheng, we’ll show it to you first.”
Owl’s gaze shifted away from Xiao Yuan and landed on Su Muchen’s face.
After a moment, the tension on his face eased slightly.
“Good. If you have new requirements, pick them out first and let me see them. As for text-based materials on paper, as long as they aren’t key technologies or historical records, I can let them through.”
He paused, his gaze lingering briefly on each of them.
“But you must tell me the contents beforehand.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
“Agreed.”
Owl picked up his tablet again, as though the conversation just now had never happened.
“Then that’s settled.”
Su Muchen remained standing where he was, feeling that the tension in the air had not completely dispersed.
He glanced at Owl’s back as he lowered his head and scrolled through the tablet, then at Xiao Yuan’s silent profile.
“I’m hungry,” he said. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’ll prepare some for you two while I’m at it.”
He walked into the back kitchen, his footsteps slightly faster than usual.
Not long afterward, the sound of pots and bowls colliding came from the back kitchen, like an ordinary, non-hostile rhythm of daily life.
After Su Muchen left, Xiao Yuan’s gaze shifted to Owl.
Sensing his gaze, Owl also lifted his eyes from the tablet and looked at Xiao Yuan.
After a moment of silence, Owl spoke.
“Mu’an is very simple. I ask Your Highness to show him some mercy.”
His tone remained somewhat cold.
Xiao Yuan listened without saying a word.
He knew very well that although this man always addressed him as “Your Highness,” there was not the slightest trace of respect in his tone.
And these words sounded more like a warning—
Do not drag Su Muchen into your political schemes and intrigues.
“Mu’an is very important to me. Naturally, I will not harm him.”
He paused for a moment before continuing.
“As for the Ancient Gate beneath Linbei City, I have you to thank.”
“I didn’t say anything. You found it yourselves. Your Highness need not keep it in your heart.”
Xiao Yuan knew that he did not want to talk about it, so he did not bring it up again.
He took a letter from inside his robes and placed it in front of Owl.
Owl lowered his head and glanced at it.
The handwriting on the envelope was slender and upright, carrying the restrained bearing of a scholar.
“Huaiyu asked me to deliver this to you.”
Owl looked at the letter, his gaze somewhat complicated, but he still accepted it.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Xiao Yuan suddenly said, “He was seriously ill some time ago. His fever has already subsided, but he is still weak.”
He paused, then added, “I think he won’t mention it in the letter.”
Xiao Yuan saw that there was not much reaction on the surface, but those already-deep eyes of Owl’s seemed to grow even deeper.
After a moment, Owl said, “Please don’t tell him about my injuries, Your Highness.”
Xiao Yuan fell silent.
Owl pressed his fingers against his brow. Knowing that it was probably impossible to hide, he did not say anything more.
Su Muchen came out carrying a large plate of breakfast.
Fried eggs, toasted bread, grilled sausage, hot tea, and two cups of coffee.
He happened to hear about Xia Lanshi.
“You said Xia Lanshi was sick again?”
He placed the plate on the counter and turned to look at Xiao Yuan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Xiao Yuan accepted the chopsticks he handed over. His fingertips paused when they touched the edge of the plate.
“Rapid marching, combined with the cold weather. He is fine now.”
Su Muchen frowned but did not say anything more. He simply lowered his head and divided up the breakfast.
“Eat first. Tell me the details later.”
Xiao Yuan knew that this was the prelude to another three pages of precautions.
The corners of his lips lifted slightly.
“Okay.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at the fried egg.
Its edges were slightly browned, while the egg white was cooked just right. The rich fragrance of the fried egg stirred his appetite.
Although it was simple, it was already better food than what most residents of Linbei City could eat.
He picked up his chopsticks, lifted the egg, and took a bite.
Owl also put down his tablet. He reached out and took the other cup of coffee Su Muchen had pushed toward him, lifting it to take a sip.
He did not look at Xiao Yuan, but Su Muchen noticed that Owl’s movements were slightly slower than usual as he drank his coffee, as though he were readjusting some kind of distance.
The three of them ate breakfast across the counter from one another, and no one was in a hurry to speak.
The morning light of Changning Alley slanted through the windows, falling across the edges of the plates and rims of the cups.
Owl was the first to put down his cup.
“What I said just now was too harsh.”
Su Muchen looked up at him.
Owl did not look at anyone. His tone had returned to its usual lazy warmth.
“But if some things aren’t made clear, it will be more troublesome later.”
Xiao Yuan was silent for a moment before putting down his chopsticks as well.
“I know.”
Su Muchen’s gaze moved between the two of them. He could feel that the tension was slowly loosening.
He said nothing. He simply handed several more pieces of bread to Xiao Yuan.
“This won’t get cold. Take it with you and eat it on the road.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at the bread wrapped in wax paper. The corners of the paper had been carefully folded, just like the way Su Muchen prepared supplies for him every time.
“Okay.”
He reached out and accepted it.
Su Muchen continued eating breakfast, unconsciously reaching up to brush aside his overly long bangs.
They really had grown long.
He should get them cut.
But the thought merely went around once in his mind before sinking away without ever being spoken.