Chapter 40
To make candles, you first need wax. The first step is to extract the beeswax.
Unlike industrial wax, pure natural beeswax is harmless to the human body and can even be consumed in small amounts. Therefore, there was no need to change the utensils. Hua Shi’an and the two sub-beastmen brought over three small stone pots that were usually used for boiling wild vegetables and started cooking directly.
They added half a pot of clear water, put in the comb residue, and boiled it over a high fire. After the water boiled, they had to stir it frequently with a bamboo sliver to prevent it from sticking to the pot and to break up the compressed comb residue, speeding up the melting process.
The honeycomb was not resistant to high temperatures and did not need to be stewed for a long time like mutton. Soon, the comb residue, which had been broken up by the bamboo sliver, had completely melted. The boiling water became more and more turbid, changing from clear water to a pot of yellow and thick “millet porridge.”
The impurities floating on the surface would not melt. After it was cooked, Hua Shi’an and the two sub-beastmen filtered it twice with coir sheets. Finally, the filtered beeswax water was poured into bamboo tubes and left to cool.
Extracting the beeswax was relatively simple, but there was a large amount of it. A full back basket of honey residue, and the three of them were each responsible for a small stone pot, cooking non-stop. They only finished cooking everything from morning to noon.
They were almost cooked themselves. The three of them were panting from the heat, sweat pouring down like rain.
They moved the twenty-odd bamboo tubes of beeswax water to a shady spot where the sun couldn’t reach, drank some water, and took a short break. Then, Hua Shi’an picked up a stone knife and led the sub-beastmen to the forest to cut golden bamboo.
Golden bamboo was thin and long, and they didn’t need much to make molds. But since they were already there, they couldn’t just cut one or two and go back. So each of them cut more than ten, grunting and heaving as they carried them back to the camp.
They used a machete to cut the two-finger-thick golden bamboo into bamboo tubes, keeping the bottom nodes. The average length was the same as a palm. The candles made this way, in terms of size and length, were almost the same as the candles Hua Shi’an had seen before.
Of course, there was no specific standard for the size of a candle. He could also choose to make them thicker, so they would burn slower, or directly use Moso bamboo as a mold to make scented candles.
But the premise was—that there was enough beeswax.
Three back baskets of honeycomb had become one back basket of comb residue, and one back basket of comb residue had become more than twenty bamboo tubes of beeswax water. It would shrink a lot more when it solidified into beeswax. Hua Shi’an didn’t want to work all day just to make one or two candles.
After preparing the bamboo tubes, the beeswax water had almost cooled down. The three of them moved the small golden bamboo tubes to the fire, and without even taking a break, they rushed to the shade nearby.
The density of wax is less than that of water, and it is insoluble in water. As the temperature dropped, the beeswax slowly separated from the water and solidified, like a non-absorbent sponge, floating lightly on the water.
He randomly picked up a bamboo tube. Hua Shi’an leaned in and took a look. Seeing that the beeswax inside had completely solidified, he gently shook the bamboo tube and then turned it upside down in his palm.
The water, which had been dyed yellow by the residual honey, flowed to the ground with a “splash.” When he removed the bamboo tube, a large, round, reddish-yellow, or rather, orange-red piece of beeswax lay quietly in his palm.
At first glance, it looked like a hot pot base with chili added. The color was particularly tempting. Hua Shi’an leaned in and sniffed it. It was actually quite fragrant, a faint floral fragrance mixed with a sweet fragrance, with no smell of industrial wax at all.
The smell didn’t matter. The key was that the wax yield was very high. A full bamboo tube of beeswax water had solidified into half a bamboo tube of beeswax. The large, heavy piece in Hua Shi’an’s hand could make five or six candles without a problem.
The trip up the mountain had been a huge gain. This batch of cliff honey was full of surprises! Hua Shi’an held the slippery wax block, a joyful and satisfied smile on his slightly flushed cheeks.
The beeswax had to be boiled again to melt it and reshape it. Hua Shi’an, Yan Zhile, and Hong Yinglan got busy again, pouring water to get the wax blocks, extracting coir fibers to twist into wicks, and starting a fire to boil the beeswax.
The wax blocks melted very quickly. They had just tied the twisted thin coir ropes to a branch when the reddish “hot pot base” in the pot had completely melted, turning into a pot of shiny, bright wax oil with a refreshing fragrance.
Seeing this, Hua Shi’an quickly placed the branch horizontally on the opening of the bamboo tube, ensuring that the coir rope was suspended in the middle of the bamboo tube. He then scooped up the wax oil and slowly, carefully, poured it into the mold.
This was a long process. The opening of the golden bamboo was small, and there was no funnel, so he could only pour it in bit by bit. And the golden bamboo was thin, so it was easy to tip over if it was placed directly on the ground after being filled. If the wax oil was accidentally spilled, it would be a waste. So they filled one and placed it at the foot of a nearby tree, running back and forth.
All the molds were filled with wax oil, and the ground from the fire to the shade had been trampled solid.
He was exhausted. After being roasted by the fire and running back and forth, Yan Zhile and Hong Yinglan were drenched in sweat, collapsed on the ground and panting heavily.
Hua Shi’an, who was responsible for pouring the wax oil, was a little more relaxed and not so tired. But he had been by the fire all along, and the smoke and fire had roasted his fair cheeks into two red blushes, like the fiery sunset clouds.
The wicks were all used up, and there was still a little wax oil left in the pot. Not wanting to waste it, Hua Shi’an cut another finger-thick golden bamboo and poured the remaining wax oil into four mini bamboo tubes.
At this point, all the wax oil had been used up, and all the candles had been made. All that was left was to wait for the wax oil to solidify before demolding.
They didn’t stay idle while waiting. After resting for a while, they started scraping the wax, washing the pots… doing the final cleanup work.
The stone pot used for boiling the beeswax was particularly difficult to clean. It took a lot of effort to get it barely clean.
After being busy for most of the day, it was finally time to inspect the results. After washing the pots, they immediately went to the foot of the tree. Under the expectant gazes of the two, Hua Shi’an randomly picked up a small bamboo tube.
He first touched it and then looked at it. After confirming that the bamboo tube was completely cool and the wax oil inside had completely solidified, Hua Shi’an removed the branch that was holding the wick, decisively picked up his machete, and brought it down.
“Hey!”
Before the knife could touch the bamboo tube, a cry of alarm stopped his hand in mid-air.
Hua Shi’an turned his head to see Yan Zhile, who was still in shock, as if he had been frightened. He pointed at the bamboo tube in surprise. “What are you doing cutting it? You just worked so hard to make the candle. Why are you raising your knife?”
His tone was so irrefutable that Hua Shi’an almost thought he had made a mistake.
After a two-second silence, Hua Shi’an put down his machete, reached out, and tapped Yan Zhile on the forehead, feeding him a chestnut. “Were you sleepwalking just now? Didn’t I say? The bamboo tube is just a mold for making candles, not the final form of the candle. Now that the wax oil has solidified, how can we take the candle out without cutting the bamboo tube?”
“You don’t necessarily have to cut it, right?” Yan Zhile rubbed his head and said aggrievedly, “Look, Lord Priest, the bamboo tube is so sturdy, and that wax block is so brittle, it breaks with a snap. Why don’t we use the bamboo tube to protect it and just use it like this?”
His idea was not wrong, but a candle was not a decoration.
After being busy for half a day, it seemed he had forgotten to explain the use of a candle to them. Just as Hua Shi’an was about to start explaining from the beginning, Hong Yinglan, who had been silent all along, patted Yan Zhile.
“Oh, don’t cause trouble. Let’s watch the Lord Priest first. I’m still waiting to see the candle. Only the Lord Priest knows what a candle is for. It’s always right to listen to him.”
At these words, Yan Zhile fell silent. And Hua Shi’an didn’t dawdle. He picked up his machete and split the bamboo tube, gently, using the toughness of the blade to split a gap at the top of the bamboo tube.
Cutting all the way through would damage the candle. After making a gap, Hua Shi’an put down his machete and used his hands. He grabbed the gap with both hands and pulled hard. With a “crack,” the sturdy bamboo tube split in two, and a brightly colored, warm, and lustrous orange candle fell out.
Using a bamboo tube as a mold, the solidified candle was round and smooth, of a moderate length and size. The wax-coated wick stood perfectly in the middle of the candle. Except for the color, it was no different from the candles Hua Shi’an had seen before, simply flawless.
It was a perfect result. Hua Shi’an was quite satisfied, but the two sub-beastmen’s reactions were flat. They stared blankly at the candle in his hand, not asking any questions or “wowing.”
Because they had seen the solidified wax block before, in their eyes, the wax block had just shrunk a little, become rounder, and had a coir rope in the middle.
After a long pause, Yan Zhile gave the only comment, “The color of the beeswax is so beautiful. The more I look at it, the more I want to eat it. Why is that? Sigh, what a pity, it’s not edible.”
The expectant Hua Shi’an: …
Alright, it must be because they don’t understand the use of a candle.
With a “wait,” he ran to the unextinguished fire with the candle.
He returned quickly, his walking speed obviously much slower. He held the candle in one hand and cupped his other hand in front of it, as if protecting a treasure.
As the distance closed, the sub-beastmen squatting at the foot of the tree finally saw clearly the treasure he was protecting in his palm: a flame, a reddish flame burning at the tip of the candle.
A gentle breeze blew through the camp, and the faint candlelight flickered in the wind, as if it would be extinguished in the next second. But as he walked through the camp and back to the foot of the tree, the flickering flame was still burning, and it even became brighter.
“This, this…”
Yan Zhile’s eyes widened as he looked at the flame on the candle. His lips opened and closed, but he couldn’t form a complete sentence.
This is the right reaction. Hua Shi’an smiled and casually handed the candle to Yan Zhile. “Well, the candle is very—”
“Poof, poof!”
Yan Zhile opened his mouth and quickly blew a few breaths to extinguish the candle.
Before Hua Shi’an could react, the candle was snatched from his hand. And the culprit, Yan Zhile, tilted his head and looked at him with great confusion. “What are you doing, Lord Priest? Why did you light it? You just worked so hard to make it. It will burn out in a moment.”
The hand holding the candle froze in mid-air. It took Hua Shi’an a long time to come to his senses. He patted his forehead, feeling both helpless and amused. “The candle we worked so hard to make is actually for lighting. For example, at night, when it’s pitch black and you want to work but can’t see, you can light a candle to illuminate the surroundings.”
“Like firewood?” Yan Zhile quickly asked.
Firewood could not only be used for cooking but also for lighting. Hua Shi’an nodded. “Yes, the function is the same, but a candle—”
“Then why not just burn firewood?” Yan Zhile’s face fell, his brow furrowed, and his tone was filled with deep disappointment and disbelief. “So we worked all day to make a pile of firewood?”
Hong Yinglan glared at him. “What’s the rush? Let the Lord Priest finish.”
No longer joking, Hua Shi’an coughed lightly and explained seriously, “It’s different. A candle burns slowly. For the size we made today, if you light them one after another, you only need three to have light all night. And don’t be fooled by its small flame. It’s still very bright at night. It can illuminate the entire area around it.”
“But, but…”
He really wanted to refute, but out of respect for Hua Shi’an’s status as a priest, Yan Zhile hesitated.
As if he had guessed his thoughts, Hua Shi’an patted his shoulder and lifted his chin. “Say what you want to say, be open. We’re all friends.”
“Then don’t be angry when I say it.” Yan Zhile peeked at Hua Shi’an’s expression. Seeing him nod solemnly, a smile reappeared in his eyes. Only then did he let out a hot breath and slowly speak:
“I saw that flame just now. No matter how bright it is, it’s still just a small flame. At most, it can illuminate a small area, enough for one or two people to use. With so many people in the tribe, how many candles would it take to light up the camp and work like in the daytime?”
“I, I think a fire is better. If we make a few large fires, the camp can be as bright as in the daytime. It can be used for cooking and lighting, and everyone can use it.”
There was some truth to his words. Hong Yinglan felt the same way, but she didn’t want Hua Shi’an to lose face. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke softly to smooth things over, “You can’t say that. Making a fire requires dry wood. How much dry wood would we have to gather to burn all night? It’s fine now, there are plenty of withered branches and fallen leaves in the forest. But what about in winter? We have to save the dry wood.”
“The candle that the Lord Priest led us to make is still very useful. Didn’t you hear him say? Three candles can burn all night. That’s so good, so convenient!”
Yan Zhile laughed out loud. “Lan-jie, the Lord Priest and the others spent two whole days collecting the honeycomb, and we spent most of today boiling the beeswax and making candles. Is that what you call convenient?”
Hong Yinglan: “You can’t calculate it like that. They went up the mountain for the honey. The honeycomb was just a bonus.”
“What about our half a day today? How much dry wood would we have to gather?”
“How much dry wood can the three of us gather? At most, a few back baskets.”
“Then…”
Seeing the two high-spirited sub-beastmen start to argue over this, Hua Shi’an quickly waved his hand. “Alright, alright, that’s enough from both of you.”
There was a hint of pique in their words at the end. Unconsciously, they had belittled the candle to be worthless. Yan Zhile knew he was in the wrong and lowered his head, not saying another word.
Hong Yinglan became inexplicably nervous. She carefully glanced at Hua Shi’an and comforted him softly, “Lord Priest, you, don’t be angry.”
Hua Shi’an smiled and shook his head. “Am I a very fragile person? Don’t worry, I’m not angry. I just figured something out.”
From a technologically advanced, information-exploding modern society to a cave-dwelling primitive society, Hua Shi’an, like all the transmigrators in novels, had a sense of superiority, more or less, due to the information gap.
This sense of superiority was not purely negative. After all, his original intention was to lead the tribe to a better life. But the sense of superiority did prevent him from putting himself in the tribe members’ shoes and understanding their needs and thoughts, and thus integrating with them.
During the day, they rushed around for food and clothing, busy with food. In the evening, they used a bonfire in the camp for cooking and lighting. At night, they went back to their tree hollows and fell asleep. For now, did the tribe really need candles?
He was too self-centered, too impatient, so much so that he had overlooked the tribe’s needs.
Winter was coming. They needed more food, warm tree hollows, and a large amount of dry wood, not a bottle of perfume in a starving beggar’s bowl, telling him it was a limited edition and smelled very good.
Looking at his own mistakes objectively, Hua Shi’an didn’t think it was a big deal.
Today was not a complete waste of time. Candles would be useful sooner or later. In the near future, they would have endless food and their own houses…
