Fang Chang didn't take it seriously, smiling as he lifted the basket from his back.

He wrapped the monkey's gifts with one hand, picked up a fruit with the other, wiped it, and took a bite.

Crunch.

Refreshing, sweet, and delicious!

The fruit given by the little white-haired monkey was excellent.

As expected from an expert fruit-picker, the monkey's choices were much better than those in Fang Chang's own basket.

Of course, it might also be because the monkey's fruits were "gift-grade."

Fang Chang smiled, continuing to walk while enjoying the fruit.

Exiting the woods, he returned to his hut, took out the fruit from his basket, and stored it safely. He tossed the two rough jade pieces given by the monkey into the hut.

As for the elixir, having no suitable place to store it, he simply put them in his pocket. If they got crushed, it would mean they weren't meant for him.

He tossed the finished pits down the hillside—never into the campfire.

The house was different from the nearby shack. The shack used three long logs interlocked to form a strong triangular structure, stably supported on the ground. But building a house required setting pillars, meaning digging holes in the cleared land.

First, using a stone axe, he dug into the ground, then used stone flakes to dig deeper, removing loose soil and small stones by hand, pulling out a straight hole about an arm's depth. Fortunately, no large rocks were encountered during this process.

Fang Chang tamped the hole with a short piece of wood, then placed the trimmed trunks into the holes one by one, packing the surrounding soil tightly.

He shook them—they were very sturdy.

Erecting the four columns didn't take long. Similarly, the beams were simple enough: four beams of appropriate thickness were placed in a circle, set into specially made notches on the columns, and tied tightly with rattan.

In this way, Fang Chang built a solid frame standing on the ground.

The roof, however, was the most troublesome part.

There were many configurations to choose from, and considering the heavy rain in the area, Fang Chang planned to go further tomorrow to gather materials from a distant bamboo forest.

All afternoon, he was busy with another task: raising the floor inside the house.

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He collected pebbles from a nearby stream, carried them back in his basket, and arranged them in a circle where the wall would be, about two fists high.

Then he dug soil, put it in the basket, transported it to the site, dumped it, and stomped it down, raising the house's floor above the outside level. This would help prevent water from flooding in when it rained.

At some point, the little monkey returned, braver after yesterday's events. It squatted on a nearby tree, watching Fang Chang, pondering its thoughts.

Fang Chang didn't mind, greeted it, and continued his work.

...

After the sun rose, Fang Chang got up from the large rock on the cliff's edge and stretched.

Since arriving in the mountains, his cultivation had progressed rapidly, and he had grown taller. In just a few days, Fang Chang felt his cultivation had improved significantly.

But this wasn't due to environmental factors; it was a mental breakthrough.

Previously, Fang Chang couldn't "be amidst the world of mortals without being disturbed," so he chose to "hide as a recluse in the wilderness," selling his property to find a tranquil place for cultivation on this cloud-shrouded mountain.

He had moved the bonfire at the door to the unfinished house to dry the ground. Once the roof was completed, this would be unwise due to the risk of fire.

Yesterday, he also picked two flat stones from the stream to use as a table and bench. Without his strong cultivation, moving such large stones would have been impossible.

The advantage of using a solid boulder as a table was that it could withstand the elements, unperturbed by wind and rain.

After breakfast, he practiced another set of guiding exercises. Fang Chang placed the stone axe in his basket, shouldered it, and headed down the mountain.

He remembered seeing a lush bamboo forest in that direction upon his arrival. The bamboo grew well and could be harvested.

The monkey, routinely observing Fang Chang from a nearby tree, saw him leave and followed, leaping through the trees at a distance.

The scenery was beautiful along the way, though the vegetation was dense.

But this didn't hinder Fang Chang; he moved deftly, navigating the difficult terrain with ease.

"Woof! Woof!!"

Rounding a few boulders and nearing the bamboo forest, Fang Chang saw a yellow dog barking at him vigorously. Its fur was smooth, and it wore a cloth collar, indicating it was a domestic dog.

Fang Chang was puzzled; this place was far from the village at the mountain's base. Could it have gotten lost?

"Woof! Woof!" The yellow dog seemed anxious, turning in place, running a few steps away, looking back to bark, then running a few more steps.

"Is it asking me to follow?" Fang Chang wondered.

Upon closer inspection, the yellow dog seemed intelligent but not spiritually enlightened.

The yellow dog trotted toward the mountain in another direction, and Fang Chang quickly followed. The yellow dog ran faster, but fortunately, its legs weren't as strong as Fang Chang's, so he easily kept pace.

At the foot of a steep hill, the yellow dog rushed out, barking softly around a person lying on the ground.

"A person?"

Approaching, Fang Chang saw a young man dressed as a villager sprawled on the ground, with an iron axe, ropes, and pieces of firewood scattered nearby—likely a woodcutter.

Fang Chang turned the man gently onto his side, checked for breathing, and found he was still alive.

Examining the area, it seemed the man had slipped down the hillside, hitting something on the way and losing consciousness.

Fang Chang assessed the man's condition, finding him stable, and pinched his philtrum acupoint hard.

"Ouch!"

The man opened his eyes, gradually waking.

Fang Chang instructed, "Don't talk or move yet, just feel if anything's wrong." The man shook his head, wincing slightly, feeling discomfort all over.

Seeing the woodcutter in pain, Fang Chang took out two elixirs from his pocket.

They were gifts from the monkey, though deformed from being carried. He identified one, broke off half, and said:

"Open your mouth."

The woodcutter obeyed. Fang Chang squeezed the elixir's juice, dripping it into his mouth, and waited for the medicine to take effect. Soon, the woodcutter sat up, saying:

"Thank you, strong man, for saving me."

Fang Chang shook his head, "No need to thank me. Thank your yellow dog—it sought help and found me. Why were you lying here?"

"Of course, I slipped," the young woodcutter replied, glancing at his dog. He seemed talkative, continuing without pause:

"I'm from Linxi Village below. I often chop firewood on the mountain to sell in town, but this time wasn't for firewood."

"A good friend fell seriously ill. The village pooled money to see a doctor and got a prescription, but we couldn't buy the medicine."

"Fortunately, the doctor knew his craft and described the herbs, saying Yunzhong Mountain had them."

"So, I've been climbing the mountain daily to find the herbs and cut some firewood along the way."

"Then I spotted a plant in a rocky crevice on that slope, climbed over, and slipped while reaching for it." The woodcutter gestured, "And I fell."

Fang Chang nodded, understanding.

The woodcutter then asked gratefully, "Strong man, where do you come from? I've talked so much without asking your name. When I return, I'll thank you properly."

"My name is Fang Chang," he replied, pointing to the flat hill he called home. From here, it appeared on the cliff, surrounded by clouds and mist: "I live there."

"That's Xianqi Cliff! No one dares to go there!"

The woodcutter exclaimed.