Zhang Shuguang set aside the potatoes with numerous sprouts, then turned to look at the scattered piles of items on the ground and sighed.

“I need to get some baskets and bowls. This is way too messy. And I need to make a set of tables and chairs—eating while squatting is torture.”

He muttered to himself, noticing Nai Dou curiously pawing at the pile of dry grass on the ground. The grass was already a tangled mess from the kitten’s play. “Nai Dou, stop messing around!” he called out.

Startled, Nai Dou quickly withdrew its little paw and crouched on the ground, its big eyes looking at him with innocent confusion, looking exceptionally well-behaved.

Zhang Shuguang was utterly charmed by the sight. Unable to resist, he strode over, picked up the little kitten, and planted two smacking kisses on its face.

His fish soup was simple: he washed the fish he’d brought back, placed it in a pot, added a pinch of salt, and when the broth was nearly done, tossed in a few lemongrass stalks for flavor.

While adding branches to the stove, he studied the salt block in his hand. He pondered the mission objective to produce five hundred grams of fine salt—no small amount for his current resources. The few salt blocks from Mang Jiu clearly wouldn’t suffice.

“Shuguang, what are you up to now?” Just as he pondered his options, Hua’s voice drifted over from nearby.

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes lit up. “I’m making fish broth, Sister Hua. Do you have extra salt? Could I trade you for some?”

Hua lifted her gaze from the bubbling pot, puzzled by his sudden request. Remembering their own meager salt reserves, she sighed helplessly. “The salt-trading caravan leaves when the snow melts. It’ll be days before they return. If you want salt, you’ll have to wait for them to bring it back. After a snow season, hardly any family in the tribe has much salt left.”

Zhang Shuguang stirred the pot with his stone spoon, then nodded thoughtfully. “How much salt do they bring back each time? Does everyone in the tribe get some?”

“How much you get depends on what you trade with the salt-exchange team,” Hua replied with a smile.

“You have to trade something with the salt-exchange team?” He had assumed it was distributed equally among households, but now realized it required bartering.

“Exactly. It also depends on what the other tribe wants during their salt-gathering trip. Generally, any food that keeps longer trades well.” Seeing his genuine confusion, Hua plopped down beside the hearth with a stone, roasting it over the fire while the aroma wafted up. She took the opportunity to explain some tribal customs.

“We always trade salt blocks with the Salt Mountain tribe. They don’t have much forest or grassland over there—just vast stretches of sandy terrain with scarce game. If it weren’t for the salt mountains, the Sand Crocodile tribe would’ve migrated elsewhere long ago. They’re exceptionally fierce; any other tribe that tried to seize the salt mountains got driven back.” Hua snorted coldly. ”When the Sand Crocodile Tribe trades with us, they only get thirty salt blocks for an entire ox-beast.“

Zhang Shuguang had seen the ox-beasts hunted back to the tribe yesterday. That size could only fetch thirty salt blocks? What a heartless, crooked merchant.

”Don’t other tribes know how to make salt?”

Hua waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, but they’re too far from our tribe. Even the fastest Beastmen would need two seasons just for the round trip.”

Two seasons meant nearly half a year gone. The journey itself was fraught with dangers, and the salt they managed to bring back wasn’t even particularly good. No wonder they were ripped off so badly yet still had to trade with the Salt Mountain tribe—there really was no other way.

He exhaled deeply and said, “I know how to make salt.”

Hua froze for about three seconds before abruptly standing up. “You know how to make salt?”

Her voice was loud, making Zhang Shuguang’s ears ring.

Hearing the commotion, Xiong Kui rushed out of the cave, hurrying to Hua’s side. “What’s going on? Salt?”

Hua grabbed Xiong Kui’s arm, her other hand trembling as she pointed at Zhang Shuguang. “He said… he knows how to make salt!”

Xiong Kui’s body jerked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Really? You know how to make salt?”

Zhang Shuguang scratched his face and cleared his throat. “Yes. You can dig salt fields by the sea and sun-dry the salt.”

“By the sea?” Xiong Kui reflexively turned toward the ocean. “You really know how?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Yes. With crystallized salt like this, it doesn’t even take much time. But eating too much of this salt isn’t good for your health.”

Xiong Kui frowned, his face grave. “We’ve always eaten this kind of salt.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself: You lot are just too healthy. Try it on an ordinary person, and they’d probably drop dead before forty.

But he certainly couldn’t say that to Xiong Kui. Instead, he offered, “Chief, if you’re concerned, you can come with me to the shore tomorrow. I’ll make it right there for you.” He waved the salt block in his hand. “It’ll be better than this kind.” At least it wouldn’t have so much sand mixed in!

As for the fine salt, that would indeed take some time. He planned to make a small batch first to complete the task, then teach others how to refine the fine salt later.

Xiong Kui nodded repeatedly. “Alright, alright! We’ll head to the shore as soon as the sun comes up tomorrow!”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “Chief, no need to be so tense. I wouldn’t deceive you.”

“Alright, what do you need?”

“Bring two stone buckets. Nothing else.” Zhang Shuguang paused, then added, “There are plenty of potatoes over there, too. Anyone who wants to dig for potatoes can go.”

Xiong Kui slowly shook his head. “Not too many people should know about your salt-making yet. Plus, the shore isn’t close to the tribe. If the Sub-Beastmen go, they’ll need Beastmen to carry them.”

Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow, realizing the chief feared he might be ridiculed if he failed to produce salt. Grateful, he said, “Chief, thank you for your trust. I absolutely won’t let you down.”

Xiong Kui felt slightly embarrassed by the gratitude. Truthfully, he feared others questioning his leadership if he admitted his hesitation, but he couldn’t voice that directly.

He gave an awkward chuckle and nodded. “Then get some rest early. Head to the coast tomorrow.”

Zhang Shuguang saw that the fish soup was ready. He ladled some to taste it—surprisingly delicious.

“Have some yourselves. It’ll feel soothing to drink before bed.”

Xiong Kui and Hua showed no hesitation, taking stone bowls to serve themselves. “You really know how to cook. This is delicious.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled, scooping some shredded fish into Nai Dou’s bowl. “These fish were all caught in the pond behind the mountain. Plenty there.”

Hua, seeing him bring back so many fish, asked puzzledly, “You caught this many fish? They’ll spoil.”

“They won’t,” Zhang Shuguang replied. “Rub salt on the fish, put them in a basin to cure for a while, then hang them up to dry in the wind and sun. Once they’re dry and firm, they’ll keep. Salt is scarce now, so I just soak them in brine before air-drying them. We’ll eat them before they go bad.”

He downed two bowls of fish broth before setting down the stone bowl. Turning, he scooped some clean water to rinse both the bowl and the stone pot. Washing dishes always felt like a chore—a bucket would be so much easier.

”Chief, where near the tribe can I find wood that can withstand long soaking? I want to carve a wooden bucket.”

Xiong Kui pondered for a moment before replying, “The dense jungle to the west has plenty of trees growing right in the water. That should be the kind of wood you’re looking for.”

Zhang Shuguang recognized the name “dense jungle” as familiar. Xiong Kui continued, “Tomorrow, the tribe’s gathering team will head out to collect wild vegetables and fruits. Ask them to bring you back a piece of wood.”

“No need, no need. I’ll go cut some myself when I have time. Don’t trouble them.” Among the gathering team, he was only familiar with Li; he didn’t know the personalities of the others, so Zhang Shuguang didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else.

“What’s the trouble? You even took them with you to dig potatoes.” Xiong Kui waved dismissively. ”It’s settled then. I’ll tell them tomorrow. You should get some rest.” With that, he took Hua back to the cave.

Zhang Shuguang smiled and said goodnight. After they left, he took a piece of salt, dissolved it in water in the pot, and then soaked the fish in it.

Soaking three fish at a time in the stone pot was manageable. He repeated the soaking process, then used twigs to spread the fish flat and set them aside.

It took roughly an hour to process all the fish he’d brought back.

After circling the cave and realizing he couldn’t drill holes in the hard stone walls to hang vines by himself, he decided to air-dry the fish near the cave entrance.

“Nai Dou, stay put in the cave, okay? Daddy’s going to find some thick branches.” He tapped the kitten’s wet little nose and turned to leave the cave.

Passing by the cave where they lived, he glanced inside and saw a middle-aged woman in her forties lighting a fire, a smile on her face.

“Shuguang!” Li waved as she spotted him.

Zhang Shuguang halted, changed direction, and entered the cave.

“This is my mom. She just ate some sweet fish and really liked it.” Li pointed at his mother and smiled at Zhang Shuguang. “And roasted potatoes—Mom especially loves these.”

Zhang Shuguang addressed the female Sub-Beastman, her face softened by a gentle smile. “If Mom likes them, I’ll have Li dig up more tomorrow.”

“My name is Ying,” Ying said, handing Zhang Shuguang a slender bamboo-like stalk. “You can chew on this for fun. It tastes sweet.”

Zhang Shuguang took it and bit into it. The texture was a bit fibrous, but after chewing for a while, a sweet flavor did emerge. “What is this?”

Li Dao explained, “Sweet sticks. They’re just for chewing and getting a bit of flavor. The little ones like them for teething.”

Zhang Shuguang took another bite, his gaze drifting unconsciously to the black spikes set aside for kindling. He paused, then asked, “Aunt Ying, what are those?”

Ying turned to look, then casually picked up a tassel and handed it to him. “They grow on the sweet stalks. They don’t have much flavor—just husks. We use them for kindling.”

Zhang Shuguang clutched the large ear in his hand, completely stunned.

This wasn’t some sweet stalk—it was clearly a freshly grafted sorghum plant!

Words exploded in his mind: sorghum grain, sorghum flour, sorghum liquor!

Sorghum! This was grain!

Back when rice and white flour weren’t freely available nationwide, sorghum was the staple food in Northeast China!

Zhang Shuguang’s hands trembled with excitement. “Where does this grow? Is there a lot of it?”

“Plenty! Near the coastal forests, there’s a huge patch growing.”

Zhang Shuguang: “…”