9 to 11 PM. When all should return to their origins, into an early sleep.
Yet in some inconspicuous kiln factory, nobody slept; military craftsmen piled kilns throughout the night, Chen Ji and Liang Mao'er pushed a massive stone roller, the Princely Heir and Liu Quxing, She Dengke worked together to sift the raw material finely.
Even the little monk rolled up his sleeves to work hard, continuously bringing in new batches of raw material.
Only Liang Gou'er reclined with his legs crossed, a straw hat over his face, unloved by all.
The Princely Heir crouched beside the stone roller, covered his mouth and nose with cloth, and asked in a muffled voice, "Chen Ji, having accomplished this, can we really leave a mark upon the annals of history?"
Chen Ji laughed, "We can."
The Princely Heir asked again, "What kind of mark?"
