Big Data Cultivation Chapter 290: 290: Artifact and Old Friend

Chapter 290: Artifact and Old Friend

Wang Haifeng yawned as he drove into Feng Jun’s villa, arriving a bit earlier today to replace Xu Leigang, who had taken the night shift.

Ever since he began his cultivation, he had spent most of his ti in Peach Blossom Valley, with the rest of it at the Hongjie Clubhouse.

His wife had so opinions about this. After bringing him lunch twice to Peach Blossom Valley and realizing her husband wasn’t deceiving her, her mood improved a bit. Nonetheless, she would still nag him to co ho and “pay his dues.”

Just last night, Mada Wang had summoned him back ho, and in order to avoid being ridiculed by Xu Leigang, he decided to head over earlier.

As soon as he got out of the car, he happened to see Feng Jun walking out of the villa. Rubbing his eyes, he thought, Why do I feel like sothing’s not quite right?

Feng Jun glanced at him, moved his mouth a bit, and finally managed to say, “Try to control it a bit, you are still laying the foundations… If you don’t exercise restraint, it could affect your progress.”

Wang Haifeng’s face turned red, a rarity for him. He considered himself still young and didn’t like anyone suggesting otherwise, so he could only offer a wry smile in explanation, “My other half at ho, she just doesn’t trust people, says she wants to ‘drain dry’… Where’s the basic trust between people, huh?”

Feng Jun nodded slightly, “Harmony in yin and yang is good, but excess is detrintal… Hand the car keys for a mont.”

Watching the other man drive away in his Q7, Wang Haifeng stood stunned for a mont before slapping his thigh hard, “I knew sothing was off… Surely my hair hasn’t grown out that fast?”

“You only noticed the hair?” Xu Leigang also erged from the villa, musing aloud, “The Master walks without making a sound now… It’s almost certain his cultivation level has greatly increased.”

“Really?” Wang Haifeng furrowed his brow in thought, then nodded slightly before grumbling, “Looks like I need to have a word with the wife… Can’t let this affect my cultivation.”

Feng Jun drove the Q7, repeating the first thing he always did upon his return—finding a barbershop for a haircut.

There was a barbershop right at the entrance of his residential community, but he would never choose to go there.

Needing a haircut every ten or so days with the hair always being quite long—how could he possibly do such a thing right by his own front door?

Actually, he had stopped Wang Haifeng because he had so errands he wanted to arrange for him. As a master, it’s only natural for the disciples to undertake tasks on one’s behalf.

But upon reconsideration, for the sake of caution, it was better to keep Wang Haifeng and the others from knowing too much. It was safer not to fully reveal himself to anyone! This was critical for keeping his greatest secret safe.

The loss of yang energy in Wang Haifeng wasn’t particularly severe; it was just sothing he ntioned in passing.

After getting his haircut, Feng Jun headed to the auto parts city and placed an order with the modification shop owner for another twenty retrofitted farm vehicles, ten all-terrain vehicles, and ten modified motorcycles.

For the shop owner, the transaction was sizable, so despite dealing with a repeat custor, he requested an advance paynt of five hundred thousand.

To Feng Jun, this sum was trivial. Next, he made reservations for generators, walkie-talkies, and lighting equipnt, among other things.

After attending to these matters, he bought two laptops and, sitting in his car, began searching for relevant information using his mobile phone’s hotspot.

He was looking for a car that could be powered by burning firewood. According to his father, Feng Wenhui, in the 1950s, so buses ran on firewood, and their roofs were even fitted with sizable stears.

Moreover, as the internet suggested, the country managed by Kim Il-Sung, due to sanctions and extre scarcity of resources, still had vehicles that ran on firewood.

In Feng Jun’s opinion, if firewood could power a car, it could naturally power a generator as well.

However, his search online led him to discover a more useful artifact: the Boiler Cal Motorcycle!

As the na implies, this contraption consisted of a boiler hauled by a machine, which, once fired up, could serve as a generator’s engine.

As soone from the arts, Feng Jun didn’t quite understand the chanics, only knowing that such devices were now obsolete and that he would have to custom order any such item.

Though he was from an arts background, he had friends who were engineers, and after taking out his mobile phone, he flipped through his contacts for a while and finally found a na: Mou Miao.

Mou Miao was his deskmate during the first year of high school, a kind person with little interest in socializing and a passion for tinkering with chanical models and circuit boards, displaying a techie vibe. They’d had a good relationship.

Mou Miao later attended a 211 university and, after graduating, landed a job in Yongyang at a joint venture company, apparently doing quite well.

Feng Jun had always kept his phone number, but after eting once during the Spring Festival of their graduation year, Feng’s own circumstances beca sowhat embarrassing, and he lost touch.

He thought for a mont and then made the call.

Mou Miao answered the phone, his voice as gentle as ever, “Hello, who is this? Please go ahead.”

“Shui Da, it’s Feng Jun,” Feng Jun addressed him by his nickna, “How have you been lately?”

“You’re the flower-thief, huh,” Mou Miao chuckled, and it was apparent that he was pretty happy too, “I called you this sumr, but your number was out of service.”

“Oh, I changed my number,” Feng Jun said nonchalantly, “I’m now working in Zhengyang. But I won’t be using this number for much longer anyway, planning to get a better one.”

He did indeed plan to change his number. The one he got upon arriving in Zhengyang was chosen at random and few people knew it—mostly the Hongjie crowd. Most importantly, the number he had picked up casually was too hard to rember.

Now that he had money, he planned to get a lucky sequence or a big number of so sort, but he had yet to find the ti to do so.

“Oh, then just call after you’ve changed it,” Mou Miao was, as always, easy to talk to, “You’re calling for a reason, aren’t you?”

“Let’s talk about my thing later,” Feng Jun said with a smile, “How have you been in Yongyang?”

“Not particularly well,” Mou Miao spoke calmly, “The company downsized, and I got laid off. I’m currently looking for work in the capital.”

“What?” Feng Jun was astonished, thinking Mou’s temper was exceptionally good. To be so calm after a layoff, where he himself nearly felt like hitting soone when he was fired from the gym, “Is it easy to find work in the capital?”

“Not easy,” Mou Miao’s voice finally carried a hint of frustration.

Amidst that frustration was also a touch of helplessness, “If I continue in my field, finding a job won’t be a problem, but it’d pay less than what I got in Yongyang. I can’t let my forr company have the last laugh… Wouldn’t that prove I wasn’t worth the salary?”

Feng Jun paused briefly before replying with a smile, “Exactly, you have to make your forr company regret letting go of such talent.”

“I’m no great talent,” Mou Miao said weakly, “After being in Yongyang and then coming to the capital, you realize what the world never lacks is talent, there are just too many incredible people.”

The capital, of course, was full of talented people! Feng Jun continued to chat and laugh with him for a while.

Hearing that Mou Miao was unemployed, he was sowhat moved, pondering whether he should entice his old classmate to Zhengyang to join his team—Mou had a bottled-up personality and was very obedient, so there was no worry that he wouldn’t fall in line.

However, he quickly dismissed the idea. Mou Miao’s nature made him a play-by-the-rules kind of guy, and Feng Jun decided not to disrupt his tranquil life.

In the end, Mou Miao steered the conversation back, “Co on, Feng, stop beating around the bush. What’s up?”

Feng Jun then shared his thoughts.

There was a long silence from Mou Miao before he expressed his astonishnt, “A Boiler Cal Motorcycle-powered generator has no issues technologically, if one doesn’t consider pollution; it’s just that the thermal efficiency is rather low. Technically, it’s mature, and there are no problems.”

Of course, I know it’s technically mature, Feng Jun silently gave a wry smile, “So… what about production?”

“Production… naturally, there’s no problem,” Mou Miao replied very directly, “The issue now is that it has to be custom-made.”

I know it needs to be custom-made, Feng Jun’s mouth twitched slightly, “Then… where is a suitable place to get them custom-made?”

“You’re asking ?” Mou Miao was surprised, “Around Zhengyang, you can find a place anywhere, especially near Chaoge.”

“I’m not familiar with that, am I?” Feng Jun gave a dry laugh, thinking that with this information, he should be able to solve the problem by contacting Wang Haifeng.

But since he had decided to keep the news to himself, he wasn’t going to change course lightly. An idea struck him, “I was thinking, Big Water, since you’re not busy anyway, how about coming over to help keep an eye on setting this up? At least ten units for the first batch… money is not an issue.”

From the other end of the phone, a bitter chuckle could be heard, “Feng, I might be unemployed, but I’ve saved quite a bit. You think I’d take your money?”

“It’s not my money,” Feng Jun stated candidly, “I’m helping a boss with this, he owes a favor, and I can call the shots… Anyway, soone’s got to make that money, right? It’s up to you if you can spare the ti.”

“Ti… I have, and it might be nice to treat it as a trip to Zhengyang,” Mou Miao answered hesitantly, “But I’m not familiar with the place and could only help you look after things, which shouldn’t be too big a problem.”

“I have acquaintances, and I’ll introduce you when the ti cos,” Feng Jun thought of Wu Shao, his father Wu Jianguo was doing well in Funiu, and Sheng Tang Construction was well-known. The best part was that the Wu Family didn’t overlap with his circle of friends, eliminating the possibility of information leaks.

“Well… okay, I’ll go buy a plane ticket right now,” Mou Miao hesitated before replying. However, just as he was about to hang up, he murmured quietly, “You could’ve done the money-making yourself, what’s wrong with a literary man?”

Despite saying so, he arrived very quickly, and by 7 o’clock that evening, he had landed in Zhengyang by plane.

Feng Jun was already waiting at the exit. Seeing Mou Miao’s tall figure erge, he waved eagerly, “Old Mou, this way… huh?”

He suddenly noticed that Mou Miao was pulling a suitcase in one hand, and on the other side, a petite young woman was following him.

Mou Miao was about one-eighty-two ters tall, and the young woman was roughly one-fifty-five, the stark contrast in their heights was quite evident.

Mou Miao turned towards the call, frowned slightly, “You are… damn, Feng, when did you get so tall?”

(Updated to here, summoning monthly tickets.)