Chapter 147
The next day, Jiang Jitang set out early to buy fabric and cotton padding.
Given the level of light industry in the C-Nation, labor costs for a single piece of clothing were actually quite high. Clothing sold for a high price mostly because of added costs for marketing, design, style, and brand.
But Jiang Jitang planned to make the clothes himself, mainly due to limitations in materials and technology.
Don’t forget, the task items had to use techniques available around 1000 BCE.
Most modern thermal clothing, whether it’s Derong fleece or other types of fabric, uses modern textiles. Clothing suitable as task items could only use natural materials like pure cotton or linen, cotton stuffing, and animal hides.
Animal hides were relatively expensive, so his first choice was cotton fabric and cotton padding.
Jiang Jitang could sew clothes—he had previously helped classmates in the anime club make cosplay outfits. So he requested the body measurements of Yue’s family from the system, intending to make each of them a wearable “H Province combat suit”—essentially pajamas that could be worn outside or for sleeping.
“It’s more like a sleeping robe, really. Back then, there weren’t buttons yet.”
“Oh? So the Rouge World isn’t full of tall people.” The measurements came in: Yue was only 1.6 meters, and the two children were smaller. Whether due to malnutrition or the influence of the prairie rat totem on their height, it was hard to say.
But there was one benefit: it saved fabric.
Local stores sold all kinds of bedding. A second-hand cotton mattress, 150×200 cm and 6 jin in weight, with some damage, cost only 36 yuan. Buying three would be enough for cotton clothing for the two children and one adult.
He also purchased white, thick, pure cotton fabric, 260 cm wide, at 10.3 yuan per meter, buying four meters.
The remaining 1.3 yuan went toward a spool of cotton thread for the sewing machine.
The entire day, Jiang Jitang’s sewing machine hummed non-stop, nearly overheating from continuous use.
Thankfully, the results were good. He not only made three thick, cross-collared sleeping robes but also made each of them a pair of cotton pants and a pair of cotton socks.
The cotton socks could be worn to keep feet warm while sleeping.
The sleeping robes were made entirely of cotton. To prevent the cotton from shifting, he used the sewing machine to stitch a grid pattern inside. The robes were relatively tight to retain warmth—big movements might expose the legs.
But the family mostly stayed in their underground den through the winter, barely moving around—they woke up to eat, ate, relieved themselves, then went back to sleep—so tight-fitting was acceptable.
In theory, the robe could be worn outside or as sleepwear; if they weren’t used to it, it could be opened up and used like a blanket.
He even left extra room in the sleeves so the children could grow into them, ensuring they wouldn’t be too small for at least three years.
If there was a flaw, it would be that the neck was exposed and could feel cold.
After a full day’s work, dizzy and exhausted, all Jiang Jitang wanted was sleep. When Mr. Tao sent a message with the code “The dandelion seeds have blossomed,” he was already hugging his pillow and fast asleep, seeing the message only the next day.
“Already 48 hours? Oh no, I overslept. By now it’s definitely past 48 hours.” The seeds had sprouted and fruited last night.
How far had they spread? How many had fallen? He didn’t know.
Yawning, he stepped onto the balcony and saw children carrying school bags below.
It was already September. The new students had started school, and he watched them with the perspective of someone with life experience.
“Good morning, young boss.” The woman from the fruit shop downstairs greeted him, seeing him immediately. Recently, property prices had dropped, but because the shop was near the market and in a prime location with lots of foot traffic, rents generally didn’t fall. Yet the young boss had reduced her rent by 500 yuan per month, which she greatly appreciated.
“Morning.” Jiang Jitang smiled and greeted her. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? I was just going to buy some.”
“Already eaten. A new rice roll shop opened nearby. You can add lots of ingredients—it’s really tasty.”
“Where? I’ll go try it too.”
Finding new food early in the morning made him happier than seeing dandelion seeds float in the wind.
After replenishing his energy, Jiang Jitang entered the task world in a good mood. He appeared under a leafless tree on the prairie, now in the final phase of autumn.
The grass was dry and devoid of moisture, with no sign of insects.
In the distance, three shadows bent over, scavenging the dry land for seeds dropped by humans and animals—a difficult task, as every creature was desperately collecting food.
Vultures circled above, waiting for a chance to feast.
After a life of abundant food, it was hard to imagine the struggle and suffering humans endured when hungry.
Yet seeing the youngest child in tears, searching desperately for almost nonexistent seeds in the bitter cold, Jiang Jitang realized that “being full” was the greatest pursuit of happiness in some eras. And he not only could eat to satisfaction but also didn’t fuss over nutrition or taste.
“Father, if… if we can’t make it, please send me away.”
“No!” Yue turned sharply, teeth clenched, eyes red, looking at his eldest son. “I’m an adult. I can eat less.”
“Last year, Mama of the ‘Tree’ only ate a little and didn’t survive the winter.” Tears carved black streaks down their muddy faces. They had searched for days but had only found a small amount of food—insufficient for their needs.
“I won’t fail. I’m tougher. I’m fatter than she was.” Yue turned his head, hiding his father’s helplessness.
Ten days without sufficient food had pushed Yue and his children to the limit.
Without food, they would have to hunt in winter—but temperatures were extremely low. Without warm clothing, not even other warriors dared go out. Facing starved wild beasts in freezing conditions was nearly impossible.
Failing to gather ten days’ worth of food before snow meant… death.
“Come here!” Seeing a figure approaching, Yue shouted for his children to hide behind him. Before winter, some lunatics would raid others’ food, even kill for it. Being one adult and two children made them prime targets.
Yue gripped his spear, eyes fixed on the newcomer. But the closer he looked, the more confused he became.
The person wore clothes that even warriors from large tribes couldn’t afford—two-piece, colorful, and neat. His cheeks were full, lips red, teeth white. He clearly did not work hard or lack food.
How wealthy must a tribe be to maintain someone like that?
And why would such a person appear on the open prairie?
“Father, what is that he’s wearing?” the youngest child asked.
They were still in fur vests and skirts, limbs exposed and numb from the cold. But this person’s clothing covered him fully and looked very warm.
In fact, Jiang Jitang wore only a thin linen shirt.
Amid their anxious stares, Jiang Jitang approached to within ten meters. He called out, “Are you Yue? I answered your request to deliver winter clothing and food.”
With that, a cotton robe and a large bag of dried sweet potatoes appeared in his hands.
“You… put them down.” Yue wiped his eyes. They were real, not an illusion. But he wanted to confirm personally.
Jiang Jitang nodded, setting the items down and stepping back twenty meters.
Cautiously, Yue and his children approached the robe. Normally, he wouldn’t trust gifts that appeared from nowhere. But now, with nothing left to lose, he had to verify their authenticity, for his children’s sake.
No outcome could be worse than starvation.
“Father, like his clothes, what is this?” The eldest son touched the robe, astonished. It was a new texture—soft and smooth.
“It’s fabric, very precious.” Yue had seen large tribes’ warriors wear fabric clothes, but none as flat and thick as this. There was no reason to deceive him with such valuable material.
Could it really be the godly envoy who answered his prayer?
Such luck falling on him…?
Yue was still doubting, but his eldest son’s command snapped him back: “Spit it out! Don’t eat it—quick!”
The youngest had stuffed a small piece of sweet potato into his mouth. Starved to the limit, he couldn’t resist. Sweet, soft, and not tough—no matter how his brother tried to take it away, he refused.
He swallowed, whispering, “Sweet.”
“Father! He’s eating randomly! Father, he could die!” The eldest son cried desperately. Not long ago, a child had died from eating an unknown fruit. He didn’t want his brother to die, but he also understood the pain of hunger—he was torn.
Yue paused two seconds, then picked up a piece and ate it. The dry sweet potato, chewed, provided sweet energy that flowed into his body, helping him mentally and physically.
It was food—a precious resource both adult and children could consume. And here, a whole bag was enough to survive the harshest ten days.
Blinking to dispel sudden tears, Yue wiped his face and patted his children: “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. The godly envoy brought this food.”
“Really? For us?” The eldest asked, forgetting to cry.
“Yes, see? It’s from him.”
Seeing all three looking, Jiang Jitang raised his hand, waved, and smiled warmly: “I have more things for you.”
He approached them again. Like cautious little hamsters, the children hid behind their father, only showing small, wide-eyed faces.
This time, they didn’t retreat far.
Jiang Jitang picked up the cotton robes and spread them out. “These are for you to use this winter.”
Yue took one for himself, intending to give the others to his children, but Jiang Jitang brought out two smaller ones: “These are for your two children.”
The three stared at the soft, thick robes in disbelief: such fine things, and they were for them?
“I also have some food. Are you sure it’s okay to leave it here?” Jiang Jitang pointed to vultures circling above. The hungry sky predators were also looking for food. While carnivorous vultures probably wouldn’t care for his supplies, having a two-meter wingspan creature circling above was intimidating.
Yue now fully believed this person was the godly envoy, answering his prayer. Feeling guilty for doubting, he said without hesitation: “If the envoy doesn’t mind, our home isn’t far from here.”
“Lead the way.” Jiang Jitang didn’t mind. He was curious about how the prairie rats arranged their winter burrows.
Did they move in the dark without fire? How did they navigate—by smell?
Did they store clean water? Did it spoil?
How did they arrange living areas, storage, and waste areas? Did they visit each other out of boredom?
He wanted to know it all.
