At this point, the clay, which had been aging for several days, had reached its optimal state, emitting a unique earthy smell, and felt delicate, supple, and highly malleable.

Lin Feng began making a new batch of pottery.

He first repeatedly pounded and kneaded the clay on the stone slab to further expel air and enhance its properties; this process is called "awakening the clay."

Then he began using his specialty, the "coil construction method".

He rolled the clay into strips of uniform thickness, then started from the bottom and coiled and stacked them upwards in circles. After each layer was coiled, he would carefully press and smooth the gaps between the clay strips with his fingers and a specially made wooden paddle (a small, smooth, curved wooden board) to ensure that the clay body was uniform and dense.

He was completely absorbed, entering a state of complete absorption, forgetting himself and the world around him.

The clay seemed to come alive in his hands, constantly changing shape according to his will. Sometimes he frowned in deep thought, sometimes he smiled slightly, completely immersed in the joy of creation.

This time, he not only made several large earthenware urns to store Golden Fox Rice and cured meat, but also specially made several deep-bellied, small-mouthed earthenware jars with lids, which he intended to use specifically for fermenting and storing his precious "Golden Fox Rice Wine" and "Frost Fruit Wine".

He also sculpted several ceramic bowls and plates of different sizes, and even tried adding handles and simple patterns to a few ceramic jars.

Although he had no potter's wheel and relied entirely on his hands and a few simple tools, his increasingly skilled techniques and precise understanding of the clay properties allowed him to produce pottery blanks that were far superior to his previous "crooked and broken" pieces in terms of both the regularity of the shape and the uniformity of the body.

After the clay blanks are made, the long and crucial drying process begins.

He carefully moved the clay blanks to a cool, well-ventilated shed built under the wooden house, avoiding direct sunlight and strong winds, allowing them to slowly and evenly lose water.

This process cannot be rushed. If the drying is too fast, the clay body will easily crack and deform, ruining all the previous work.

While waiting for the clay blanks to dry, Lin Feng turned his gaze to the newly built high-temperature furnace.

He decided to conduct a "test firing" first, partly to check the furnace's performance, and partly to produce some charcoal in preparation for the actual high-temperature smelting later.

He dragged the hardwood he had previously cut down and piled up to the front of the furnace, split it into appropriately sized pieces, and then carefully stacked them into the furnace.

He didn't fill it all at once, but left enough space to allow for combustion and carbonization.

The process of lighting the fire was also quite particular. He first lit a small fire at the bottom of the furnace with flammable dry grass and thin firewood, and only after the flames stabilized did he gradually add larger pieces of firewood.

Once the wood in the furnace was burning, he sealed most of the openings on the top of the furnace, leaving only a few small smoke vents, and then began to pull the bellows to slowly blow air into the furnace.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The bellows emitted a deep, powerful sound, like the breathing of a giant beast.

As oxygen was continuously injected, the flames inside the furnace quickly grew stronger, and the temperature rose sharply. Dark red light shone through the cracks in the furnace walls and the observation hole, illuminating Lin Feng's face in a bright red glow.

He constantly adjusted the rhythm of the blower and the size of the opening at the top of the furnace to control the combustion state inside.

This is a process that requires experience and patience, with the aim of slowly carbonizing the wood in a high-temperature, oxygen-deficient environment, rather than burning it directly to ashes.

Several hours later, when the smoke from the smoke vents on the top of the furnace gradually changed from dark black to light blue and finally almost disappeared, Lin Feng knew that the charcoal burning was basically complete.

He stopped blowing air and completely sealed all the openings and vents on the top of the furnace with wet mud, allowing the furnace to cool naturally in a sealed state.

This cooling process is also lengthy, taking at least one or two days.

Several days later, the clay blanks finally dried to a "skeletal" state, and when tapped, they produced a crisp sound.

Lin Feng carefully moved the clay blanks one by one into his improved old pottery kiln.

He learned from past experience and became more particular about the placement of the clay blanks, ensuring that the heat could circulate evenly while preventing them from colliding or collapsing during firing.

It still involves a long process of preheating, heating up, high-temperature calcination, and then slow cooling.

This time, Lin Feng was more patient and more confident.

When the kiln door opened again, a wave of heat carrying the fragrance of earth and the smell of fire rushed out, and Lin Feng's heart jumped into his throat. He couldn't wait to look into the kiln.

Bathed in the glowing red light of the embers, the pottery pieces stood silently, no longer the grayish-white of their original clay form, but a rustic reddish-brown or bluish-gray tinged with the marks of flames, their surfaces gleaming with a faint sheen.

He carefully took out the largest earthenware jar and tapped it gently.

"clang!"

A clear, melodious sound, like the clinking of metal against metal, echoed in the quiet morning light.

It was a success! And an unprecedented success!

Lin Feng was so excited he almost jumped up!

He took out the fired pottery pieces one by one and examined them carefully.

The success rate this time far exceeded his expectations. Seven or eight out of ten pieces were intact, and they were hard, well-shaped, and produced an exceptionally clear sound when tapped.

Those large earthenware urns, each with a thick belly and round waist, were as stable as Mount Tai; those wine jars were even more rustic and elegant, carrying an indescribable charm.

He held a newly fired ceramic bowl, its surface warm and heavy to the touch, and a sense of indescribable satisfaction welled up inside him.

He neatly arranged the newly fired pottery in the corner of the wooden house. Looking at these "works" that embodied his hard work, the smile on his face was brighter than three suns combined.

After two days of cooling, Lin Feng carefully opened the high-temperature furnace.

Inside the furnace, the wood that was originally piled up like a mountain has turned into pieces of shiny black, hard charcoal.

These charcoal pieces produce a crisp metallic sound when struck, burn with almost no smoke, and provide temperatures far exceeding those of ordinary firewood. They are the key fuel for his next "grand plan"—smelting ore and firing glass!

He carefully removed the charcoal pieces one by one and stored them in a dry earthenware jar.

Looking at the increasingly well-stocked wooden house, the sturdy walls, the warm fireplace, the piles of food, the newly fired pottery, the towering kiln, and the loyal Wangcai... Lin Feng's eyes unknowingly welled up with tears.

He walked to the door of the cabin, looked at the rolling primeval forest in the distance, felt the cool breeze brushing against his face, and took a deep breath.

The air was filled with the fragrance of earth, the fresh scent of grass and trees, and the faint smell of smoke rising from the chimney of his wooden house.

All of this felt so real, so peaceful.

He recalled how, back on Earth, he had endured countless scornful looks and harassment for a tiny space of less than five square meters. The monthly rent felt like a mountain weighing him down, making it hard to breathe.

He longed for a home of his own, no matter how small or simple, as long as it was his own, where he wouldn't have to depend on others and could do whatever he wanted.

But in that city filled with skyscrapers, this simplest of wishes remains out of reach.

He was like a speck of dust, drifting in the concrete jungle, without a home or roots.

And now, he has it all! A wooden house that is entirely his own, and a piece of land that he can roam freely!

He can build, create, and live according to his own ideas!

The immense sense of accomplishment and security he felt from building his home from scratch brought unprecedented warmth and comfort to his weathered heart.

A warm tear finally slipped from the corner of his eye and fell onto the land he had cultivated with his own hands.

These are not tears of sorrow, nor tears of grievance, but tears of happiness, tears of finding a home, tears of being reborn.

"I...I finally have a home..."

He murmured to himself, his voice choked with emotion, but a relieved and happy smile bloomed on his lips.

Winter was approaching, but the wooden house, the fire in the hearth, the full storehouse of food, and everything he had created with his own hands gave him the courage and confidence to face all the harsh cold.