Zhao Hai didn't think too much about it. He walked to the side and sized up the rocks on the mountain. Then, he used his hand to knock on the rocks to test their hardness. He muttered, " "It's pretty hard, but it's perfect for building houses and roads." At this point, Zhao Hai made a horse stance in front of the stone wall. Then, he retracted his arm, closed his fingers, and stabbed forward.
With a crack, Zhao Hai's hand pierced into the stone wall. However, he could not move any further after only one hand was in. Zhao Hai pulled his hand out and muttered, " "Not bad, it's really hard, but it's perfect for cultivation." Then, he stuck his other hand into the stone wall.
For a period of time after that, Zhao Hai seemed to have returned to that year of bitter cultivation. Every day, he couldn't help but dig stones and use them to build his house. He wanted to build a stone room. It didn't need to be too big, but he had to personally mine the stones for everyone.
