The afternoon sun bathed the greyish-white rock buildings of Blackrock City in a warm golden light.
Linde left the lord's manor, merging into the flow of people on the main road like a drop of water flowing into a river.
He deliberately slowed his pace, allowing himself to immerse himself in the pulse of this familiar yet unfamiliar city.
The first thing that caught his eye was the more orderly and sturdy stone buildings on both sides of the street.
At a crossroads, he saw an old stonemason with gray hair squatting on the ground, stroking a newly delivered stone with natural blue veins with his rough fingers.
Opposite the old stonemason was a workshop with a brand-new sign, and several large rough stone blanks, clearly machine-polished, were displayed at the entrance.
"Hmph, all flash and no substance."
The old stonemason muttered, his voice not loud, but just enough to reach Lind's ears, "Stones have to have a soul; they're hammered out by hand, one chisel stroke at a time. How could those lumps of iron understand that?"
He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps speaking to the blue veined stone.
But then he sighed, patted the stone beside him, and called out to the shop:
“Kid, this piece of material is pretty good. Send it to ‘Crystal Hammer Workshop’. They’ve got a big order and need it urgently. Have them process the basic blank with that stuff so this old man won’t waste my time.”
This old stonemason was known in the city for his stubbornness and used to despise anything that involved "taking shortcuts."
Today, although he still speaks with stubbornness, his body has honestly accepted the division of labor brought about by the new technology—handing over the time-consuming and laborious basic work to the more efficient "Crystal Hammer," while he focuses on the fine carving that requires more experience and aesthetics.
This pragmatic compromise is a microcosm of Blackrock City's ability to move forward steadily.
Turning the corner, the bustling sounds of the market greeted me.
Linde walked into the market, which was much more spacious and cleaner than before. The canopy blocked the intense sunlight, and the stone floor prevented it from getting muddy on rainy days.
He stopped at a fox-woman's mushroom stall and pretended to pick some out.
The fox woman was haggling with a human aunt in fluent Common Language, their conversation revealing familiarity.
"Auntie Martha, this price really can't be lowered. Look at the quality, they were just delivered this morning, they're so fresh!"
“I know you like good stuff, but I’ll buy more this time. My son is going to the new district with the patrol team tomorrow, so I need to stock up on rations… Sigh, these days, life is better, but we still have just as many worries.”
Lind noticed that Aunt Martha's basket was full of ingredients and her clothes were brighter than he remembered.
She complained, but there was no real sorrow in her tone; instead, there was a sense of "sweet burden."
He then caught a glimpse of the large public sink in the corner of the market, where several women were washing vegetables, and steam was rising faintly from the edge of the sink—clearly the effect of the Crystal Body thermostat.
This use of magical power to improve the most everyday details silently enhances the happiness of the people.
Leaving the market, Linde strolled towards the relatively quiet area where the college district and the artisan district meet.
Like a gust of wind, a teenager ran past him, almost bumping into him.
The boy hurriedly stopped, his words of apology yet to come out, but his eyes sparkled as he looked at the building behind Linde with its towering spires and crystal windows—the "Black Rock Knowledge and Skills Heritage Center".
"I'm so sorry, sir! I'm in a hurry to attend the Craftsmen's Guild's open class, I'm going to be late!" The boy spoke quickly, his face beaming with eagerness.
Linde waved his hand, and the boy dashed off like an arrow.
He watched the boy's retreating figure, recalling what Aunt Martha had said at the market earlier.
This boy may just be one of countless "Aunt Martha's sons".
They are no longer confined to the land or crafts of their ancestors; new cities and new technologies have brought new opportunities.
Entering the Craftsmen's Guild, learning about crystal skeletons, joining the city guard or pioneer team—paths that were once unimaginable are now clearly unfolding for these young people.
This is the source of a city's vitality.
As evening fell, Lind sat down at the Stonehearth Inn near the inner city square and ordered a glass of ale.
At the next table, a weary-looking businessman was excitedly talking to his companion.
"...Brother Haske, trust me, you're definitely staying a few more days this time! Look at this city, the roads are smoother, the lights are brighter, and even the inns use temperature-regulating stones! What does that mean? It means Blackrock Territory has a solid foundation and is stable! I heard the government is about to announce new trade regulations, which seem to be related to optimizing 'light rail' freight... If we can negotiate this, our freight circulation efficiency can double!"
The businessman's words revealed a keen sense of profit, but also great confidence in the governance capabilities of Blackrock Territory.
This confidence stems from the good development and order that the territory has maintained over the past decade.
Linde silently drank his wine, listening to the businessman's vision for the future, and gained a more concrete understanding of the efforts made by Alice, Astaire, and others during the ten years he had been away.
They not only preserved his legacy, but also created a higher and more solid starting point for him.
As the sun set, Lind walked out of the tavern.
As dusk settles, the streetlights hanging above the streets illuminate one by one, their soft glow dispelling the twilight and guiding pedestrians safely home.
He walked past Jim's stonemasonry and saw the old man meticulously carving patterns on a tombstone under the lamp; passing by the market that had already closed, only cleaners were pushing silent carts with crystal logos sweeping; in the distance, the windows of the "Heritage Center" were still lit, and the faint sounds of teenagers discussing could be heard.
During this stroll, he not only observed with his eyes, but also truly felt the pulse of Blackrock City over the past decade or so through countless glimpses into the lives of ordinary citizens.
The integration of Crystal Skeleton Technology is gentle and practical, the improvement in life is tangible, and the shift in people's hearts is clearly visible.
The city he built has become richer, more resilient, and full of hope over time.
The relaxation is over.
Linde took a deep breath of the air, which was filled with the scent of smoke and hope, turned around, and walked firmly toward the brightly lit lord's mansion.
It is time to infuse this vibrant land with the power and knowledge he brought back from afar, leading it toward an even more glorious future.
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