For Cheng Ying, constructing a building over a hundred meters tall was definitely beyond his capabilities. The information he had picked up from science documentaries simply wasn't enough to guide the creation of a monumental architectural marvel.
As the saying goes, "Professional matters require professionals." Compared to Soul Masters, craftsmen on the continent held a much lower status. This made it incredibly easy for Cheng Ying to recruit top-tier builders to work for him—some of whom had even participated in the construction of the imperial palace.
All Cheng Ying needed to do was to plant new ideas in their minds—just like he had done when founding that hospital.
He simply introduced them to the concept of steel-frame structures, independently designed load-bearing systems, and demonstrated the advantages of reinforced concrete. To the craftsmen, it was as if they had received divine revelation—they were utterly amazed by Cheng Ying's brilliance.
From there, this group showed Cheng Ying just what "the wisdom of the masses is boundless" really meant. Hundreds of top architects, capable of designing grand estates for noble families, began summarizing their experiences scientifically, sharing insights with each other, and ultimately formulating a new, more refined theoretical framework—just as Cheng Ying requested.
As for "guarding one's secrets like precious treasures"? That simply didn't exist in this situation. The moment Cheng Ying unveiled cement and rebar, it was like those materials were shouting at them:
"Sirs! What you've been using is literal garbage!"
Later, Cheng Ying explained some basic mechanics to them. Even just the triangle and parallelogram rules in force analysis left the most brilliant among them in utter awe.
Though they had, through experience, sensed the decomposition and synthesis of forces, no one had ever summarized it so clearly and concisely. With Cheng Ying gathering these talents together, architecture finally began to transition from a purely experience-based discipline—passed down from master to apprentice—into a systematic, quantifiable field.
In the end, the group spent over six months arguing and compiling what became the definitive tome on architecture for their era. Even Cheng Ying felt dizzy reading it. If he hadn't insisted that it be written in academic-paper format, he might not have been able to understand it himself—even if he copied the whole thing.
It's worth noting here: Cheng Ying had actually considered inventing movable-type printing. But the characters in the Douluo Continent weren't alphabetic—they were Chinese logograms. While he didn't complain (since it was fairly normal for an isekai world to use Chinese characters), it posed real problems.
Movable-type printing just isn't suited for Chinese. There are hundreds of common characters—thousands if you include the rare ones. Think about how thick dictionaries are. In contrast, the English alphabet has only 26 letters. Ironically, two of the "Four Great Inventions" ended up being more useful for foreigners.
Oftentimes, movable-type printing wasn't even that much more convenient than traditional woodblock printing...
So in the end, if Cheng Ying wanted a physical copy of that architectural tome, he had to hire someone to hand-copy it, character by character. This solidified his resolve: someday, he would invent the printer—even if it was only capable of printing those stenciled exam sheets from decades ago.
Back to the topic of constructing new-style buildings—after compiling that architectural foundation, Cheng Ying sent these master builders off to build roads.
The Heaven Dou Empire hadn't yet developed the idea of state-owned infrastructure. Whoever built a road owned it. After cement was introduced, road-building became insanely profitable.
But these master craftsmen weren't content with just building roads. It didn't showcase their true skills. They were constantly looking for ways to make headlines. Apparently, if Cheng Ying hadn't called them back this time, they were planning to build a cross-river bridge over the empire's widest river.
Since Douluo never mentioned rivers, Cheng Ying simply named the several-li-wide waterway the Dou River. Yep—that's the kind of godlike naming ability he had.
But no unheard-of "Dou River Bridge" could compare to the thrill of building a skyscraper in Heaven Dou City. As soon as Cheng Ying announced the plan, these restless craftsmen slapped their chests and swore: "Give us an estate-sized plot like a duke's mansion—150 meters tall? No problem. 200? We'll give it a shot!"
Watching more than a hundred elite architects charge out with his funding approval in hand, Cheng Ying ran after them shouting:
"Don't build randomly! Make sure you leave space for the elevator shaft, water supply and drainage systems, and future air-conditioning and power systems! What, you expect people to climb a hundred-plus-meter building on foot?!"
The excited crowd of builders was immediately struck dumb—as if hit by a hammer. If Cheng Ying hadn't reminded them, odds were they would have built a nightmare tower with nothing but stairs. That would've been one hell of a joke.
After Cheng Ying explained things, they began to grasp the concepts of elevators, plumbing, and water supply. They were amazed by his detailed planning. As for air conditioning and electricity, though, they had no clue what he was talking about.
But that didn't matter—as long as they could satisfy the client's needs. Other families and sects often had even weirder demands. While Cheng Ying's requirements were odd, the rest of his specs were so loose that the craftsmen were practically giddy with creative freedom.
Meanwhile, Cheng Ying had a headache—mainly about the elevator's power source. There were no rivers in Heaven Dou City, so early hydraulic elevators were off the table. There were a few prototype steam engines, but they were unstable and prone to explosions—not viable at all.
In the end, someone (a true mad genius) suggested:
"Why not just turn the skyscraper into a giant windmill? The power would be insane!"
Cheng Ying immediately regretted ever introducing them to windmills and wind-powered mills.
Within an hour, this bunch had fully digested his bevel gear transmission system and enthusiastically began designing a windmill with 20-meter-long blades. Cheng Ying nearly exploded on the spot.
Listening to them debate which plant-type soul beast would be best for crafting the windmill's central beam, Cheng Ying mentally shut down. In terms of materials science, the existence of soul beasts had led the Douluo world down a totally insane path. At this point, he had no control over what sort of monstrosity this building might become.
In normal high-rise construction, the challenge is to minimize wind load. But these people? They were building a windmill on top of the tower! The worst part? Cheng Ying combed through their force analysis diagrams and… couldn't find a single flaw. The materials they proposed to replace reinforced concrete in key structural areas had higher strength than modern C100-grade concrete.
And with Cheng Ying's generous budget, they were tossing in bones from ten-thousand-year soul beasts like they were candy. The final structural strength measurements were so outrageous, Cheng Ying began to wonder if he'd stepped into a science fiction world instead.