RPS – Chapter 55 Reed Wool Shoes

The reed wool had been collected. Now the most important task was to make Mao Weng shoes.

These shoes weren’t easy to make. If they were to be both waterproof and durable, then using a wooden sole was definitely the best option. Not only was a thick wooden base good for insulating against the icy cold ground, but it also kept out rain and melted snow from soaking the woven straw upper. Otherwise, the shoes would completely lose their warmth-retaining function.

The hardest part now was figuring out how to make the wooden soles. As for the weaving part, there wasn’t much of a problem. After all, they’d made straw sandals before. This was similar—just required more steps and a tighter weave.

In such a primitive and underdeveloped society, tools were both the most needed and the most lacking. Right now, even if Li Feng wanted to use a saw to cut the wood, he couldn’t. A stone knife simply couldn’t cut wood into the desired shape. And sanding it down didn’t work either.

By the time he could manage to grind it into shape, winter would already be over. What would be the point of wearing the shoes then? Might as well give up altogether.

Li Feng was thinking: the wooden soles were mainly for Li and the others who had to go out often. As for those who stayed home, they could just weave thick grass shoes, stuff them with reed wool, and wrap the outside tightly with reed stems—that would be good enough.

He shared his idea with Nuo. These days, Nuo had been practically pulled into the female camp under Li Feng’s influence, almost fully assuming the role of Li Feng’s “wife.” He stayed home under the noble excuse of “taking care of Li Feng” and helping with the children—basically, helping out with everything.

Of course, Li Feng really did have a lot that needed help, and honestly, having two people around was way better than being alone. There was someone to talk to, and Nuo was great at chatting too—it was always easy and pleasant talking with him.

“Nuo, how do you guys usually handle wood—like, if you need flat pieces?” Li Feng asked while stripping the reed leaves, Nuo doing the same on the other side.

These leaves were to be woven into the wool shoes, along with the reed wool that hadn’t been picked yet. As for the leftover reed stems, if they were to be woven into mats, they needed to be buried in wet mud and fermented for a few days first. That way, the stems would become both strong and flexible, instead of brittle and breakable from dryness. Right now, their main task was the shoes. The mats could wait until the stems were properly softened.

One had to be careful—the reed stems could be sharper than knives, especially dangerous for bare hands. And since weaving was constant work, you couldn’t just stop or avoid it. With no gloves available, they simply had to deal with it. That’s why Li Feng figured it was best to make the shoes first—once those were done, they could move on to weaving mats. Even if their hands got cut up during mat-making, at least they’d already have shoes to survive the winter.

“We usually just use stone knives to hack at the wood—really slow and a huge hassle. As for your idea of making flat wooden boards… never done it before,” Nuo replied while working, hands busy with the reeds. There was no room to idle—plenty of work left to do.

“No one’s ever done it before?” Li Feng asked, unwilling to give up hope. He figured it wasn’t likely, given the lack of proper tools, but he still hoped Nuo might surprise him with an unexpected answer.

“Nope. You’ve seen it yourself—we’ve always used stone tables and such, not wood. The only wooden pieces we have are a few wooden stumps, dug straight from the forest. That alone took a huge amount of effort.” Nuo pointed at the wooden stump in their room, currently being used as a stool. It was extremely rough, clearly broken off either by wind or lightning, then clumsily chiseled with stone tools—uneven and full of dents. When Li Feng first sat on it, it wasn’t so bad. But after a while, it was torturous—his butt ached like crazy. In the end, he had to put a straw cushion on top just to make it bearable.

After Nuo’s explanation, Li Feng was disappointed—but not surprised. Miracles rarely showed up uninvited. Besides, they hadn’t even discovered iron yet, so what could they use to make wood-processing tools? Stone couldn’t possibly do the job. It wasn’t sharp or effective enough. All he could do was sigh and think of alternative solutions. If he couldn’t find a way to work the wood, maybe he could find something else to replace it.

“What’s wrong? Do you need it for something?” Nuo asked, noticing Li Feng’s frustrated expression.

“Yeah. For making the wool shoes more durable and warm, it’d be best to have wooden soles—just shaped like our feet would be enough. But the problem is, we have plenty of wood, we just can’t process it.” Li Feng looked toward the distant mountains—so many trees, countless in number, yet completely unusable. How frustrating.

What Li Feng hadn’t said yet was that, once the wooden sole was shaped, they needed to drill holes along the edge. This was crucial for securing the shoe: the woven straw ropes would pass through these holes and be integrated with the upper part of the shoe, making it sturdy and airtight for warmth.

Li Feng missed iron dearly. They said transmigrators were like omnipotent gods, but he felt so pitiful—aside from weaving baskets, sacks, and straw shoes, he hadn’t brought any world-changing knowledge. Iron, for example.

But even if he came across iron ore, would he recognize it? He had never seen unprocessed ore—only the final products. Who knew how those lucky transmigrators recognized iron ore instantly? Maybe they were geologists or blacksmiths in their past lives. He sure wasn’t. The supposed iron ores looked just like regular rocks to him. Sigh. Indeed, tool usage was the biggest difference between humans and animals—especially advanced tools. Too bad he had none.

“Aiya, don’t worry about it for now. If worst comes to worst, we’ll just weave thicker soles,” Nuo said. He understood how tricky the problem was—they simply didn’t have a way around it.

“Yeah, we’ll ask Li and the others once they’re back. For now, let’s finish preparing the reed leaves and fluff. Then we’ll bury the stalks by the riverbank,” Li Feng said, deciding to focus on the task at hand. No point in dwelling on unsolvable problems.

If worst came to worst, like Nuo said, they’d just use reed stalks to weave the soles and figure out some other workaround. This plan at least brought some peace of mind. If they finished the prep by noon, they could spend the afternoon weaving the shoes.

“Hey, I’ve noticed you two have gotten pretty sweet lately,” Nuo suddenly said. He could never keep quiet for long. After a brief moment of silence, he blurted it out.

“What?” Li Feng asked, confused.

“Oh come on, don’t play dumb. You and Li! You’ve stopped glaring at him all the time, even remind him of things before he heads out. Everything you do, he comes first—clothes, shoes, everything! You never used to be like this. And this morning…” Nuo gave him a mischievous look, ready to expose everything.

“What are you even thinking? There’s nothing between me and Li! You and Bu are the sweet ones!” Li Feng felt dizzy from Nuo’s teasing. Were they really being that obvious? He hadn’t even noticed.

“Hmph, everyone can tell. This morning in the kitchen? We saw everything… hehehe,” Nuo grinned, giving Li Feng a knowing look.

Li Feng’s face turned beet red. It felt hot enough to fry an egg. That morning, Li had worn the leopard-print vest Li Feng made for him. The rugged style paired with Li’s tall, lean build had dazzled him completely.

He didn’t want Li going out looking like that. What if someone got “hooked”? He didn’t want anyone else seeing Li that way. Without thinking, he had reached out and started undoing Li’s clothing ties, saying, “Take it off…” intending to make him change. But he didn’t even explain himself.

Before he could undo a single knot, Li had pushed him against the counter and kissed him—deeply. For a long time.

By the time Li Feng came to his senses, Li was smiling at him in satisfaction—and there were several heads peeking around the kitchen door. One of them was Mo’s.

His mind went blank.

They had kissed—really kissed—in the kitchen. For a long time. Lip corners still wet with saliva. When Li Feng tried to flee, Li had done something even more outrageous—he lowered his head and licked the saliva from Li Feng’s lips.

At that moment, Li Feng wanted to die. He had never been this intimate with Li in front of others. Even if it was an “accident,” it was still way too much. He glared at Li and stomped hard on his foot, then wiped his mouth vigorously. He thought about running to his room, but that would just make him look like some embarrassed heroine from a romance novel. That would be even worse—so he forced himself to stay put and act “like a man.”

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Li Feng asked after chasing everyone out. Li still had that smug smile on his face.

“You’re the one who told me to take off my clothes. I was just following your lead—setting the mood,” Li said innocently. He really would’ve dragged Li Feng to the bedroom if not for their hunting plans.

“What the hell is in your head all day? I told you to take it off because…” Li Feng’s face twitched. But how could he explain? That he didn’t want Li going out dressed too sexy?

“Because what?” Li asked, still smiling.

“Because… because… I found a few stitches weren’t finished. I wanted to fix it,” Li Feng finally blurted out, finding a decent excuse. “Take it off already. You weren’t wearing it before anyway—what’s one more day?”

“Oh? Really?” Li’s smile deepened. “But didn’t you already check it several times when you gave it to me?”

Li Feng fumed. “Whatever. Wear it if you want.” He couldn’t believe himself—fussing over a vest like this? Li Feng, you’re so done. You’ve fallen hard…

“Well, it’s getting late. You’d better get hunting,” Li Feng waved him off. The more he looked, the dizzier he felt.

Now that they had hunting traps set up, they didn’t have to leave early to search for prey. That meant they could have breakfast at home, which Li Feng usually made early just for them. But now, he regretted it—he was asking for trouble.

“Okay, I’m going,” Li replied obediently. “But this vest…” He paused, glanced at Li Feng, and said, “Since you told me to take it off, I’ll take it off. No wearing it today.” With a teasing smile, he turned and left the kitchen.

Of course, that smile from Li wasn’t due to any improper thoughts—absolutely not. It was purely because he was following his “wife”’s orders, putting on a gentle and obedient smile, nothing more. However, Li Feng was startled by his earlier behavior and naturally let his thoughts wander off track.

As it turned out, when Li went out today, he hadn’t worn that vest. So when Bu and Nuo looked at him, their gazes were… quite suggestive, making him feel awkward. He wanted to explain but didn’t know what to say, and couldn’t find any excuse to refute them either. What was there to argue about? They hadn’t even asked or said anything… In the end, Li Feng had no choice but to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

Now that Nuo brought it up again, Li Feng wanted to clear his name. But suddenly he realized—he couldn’t actually come up with any counterargument. Their recent physical closeness had indeed been a bit much. Moreover, he now felt that if he tried to argue, Nuo would probably say even more, and the more he explained, the guiltier he’d seem. So he simply ignored it. Let him say what he wanted—after a couple of lines he’d stop. “Think whatever you want. Right now, the most important thing is to work. We’re starting to weave in the afternoon.”

At noon, they made a simple meal—mostly to feed Mo and the baby. As usual, it was steamed egg and milk for them. As for the adults, they had flatbread with wild vegetable stir-fried eggs—simple but delicious. You had to eat well to have the energy to work, after all.

The reed fluff was already dried directly on the reeds, so there was almost no moisture left—it could be used right away. As for the reed leaves, Li Feng soaked them in warm water to make them more pliable and less brittle—otherwise, they’d snap easily when bent. Their home always had a supply of thatch, since they regularly wore straw shoes. They would gather and dry the grass whenever they had time, then twist some of it into straw rope. Although it wasn’t as strong as hemp rope, it worked well enough.

For this round of making fur-reed shoes, the straw rope didn’t need to be too thick, since its only function was to fasten and connect the upper and sole of the shoe. These shoes were far more complicated to make than ordinary straw shoes, and the weaving technique was entirely different. Straw shoes had larger gaps and only needed one layer, but these were a whole other matter.

They had to be tightly woven—ideally two or three layers thick. That way, no wind could get in, and they’d be warmer. And the materials weren’t just thatch. The key ingredients were the reed leaves and the reed fluff—also known as lu mao.

Since these shoes didn’t have wooden soles, they had to weave a straw sole first. There was a technique to this: the weave had to mimic warp and weft so the following steps could proceed properly.

Also, the sole needed to be woven with thin straw rope for tightness and a smooth surface. While weaving, Li Feng carefully left several fine vertical strands around the edges—on both sides—long enough to connect the upper part later. He only remembered the general steps and wasn’t sure if he could pull it off, but it didn’t seem too difficult. He’d just have to try.

Thanks to his earlier experience making straw shoes, everything went smoothly up to this point. Once the sole was done, it was time for the upper part. This had to be woven upward layer by layer using twisted ropes made from reed fluff. The upper had to be high enough—at least covering the ankle—so the feet wouldn’t get cold in winter. Unlike straw shoes, which left most of the foot exposed.

And these shoes didn’t just have uppers—they also had a vamp and a heel section. Of course, the technique was the same throughout. The key was density—it had to be firm and windproof. Once everything was woven, the last step was sealing the shoe mouth. Li Feng wasn’t sure how tight the opening should be, so he tried them on and adjusted bit by bit. As long as he could slip his foot in comfortably without letting cold air in, it was fine.

Finally, it was time to trim the fuzzy, bristly parts of the reed fluff on the outside—but Li Feng decided it wasn’t necessary. The fluff actually looked pretty good and might even add warmth. So he left it as-is—comfy and warm.

Next up, the most important part—the sole. Wood wasn’t an option. When he tried walking in just the straw-rope sole, even stuffed with reed fluff, it still felt a bit too thin. He figured he needed an extra layer. If he didn’t have thick wood, thinner wood pieces or animal hide could work.

Li Feng wove another set of soles using reed leaves, then gathered some animal hide and naturally thin wooden slats. The wood pieces varied in size, but he could fasten them at the ball of the foot and heel—just like shoe heels and waterproof platforms. That would at least make the shoes more durable. This time, Li Feng was clever: he got some red-hot bone needles and slender stone tools, using fire to burn holes in the wood. That way, the straw rope he’d left earlier could be threaded through and tied easily.

And so, the first pair of crude, primitive fur-reed shoes was complete. The sole had uneven thin wooden slats at the heel and toe, with nothing in the middle—kind of like modern-day heels and platforms. On top of that was animal hide, followed by the reed-leaf-woven sole, then the straw-rope woven sole, and finally, the upper woven from reed fluff. Li Feng put them on and walked around a bit—nice! Pretty comfy—definitely better than plain straw shoes, and the thicker sole didn’t poke his feet.

He’d also stuffed them with plenty of reed fluff, so he’d made the shoes a bit larger from the start. That way, he could stuff in more fluff and keep warm.

Naturally, Li Feng also brought out the wheat husks that were removed from the seeds they’d gotten earlier. He hadn’t thrown them away—there wasn’t much, but even a little could be very warm in shoes. You didn’t even need socks, since wheat husk was said to be heat-retentive. Very warm. Of course… they didn’t have socks to wear anyway!