“Tianlu! You’re here to see Mang Jiu?” Yu emerged from the cave holding a baked potato, spotting the young male Sub-Beastman peering cautiously at Mang Jiu’s entrance. He asked with a hint of amusement, “Just got back?”

The youth called Tianlu appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen, with a slender build. Had Zhang Shuguang been present, he would have noticed Tianlu’s distinctly Caucasian features—a striking, unmistakable trait.

His golden-brown hair curled just past his ears. His skin remained fair, untouched by the sun’s harsh rays that would darken others. His eyes weren’t the dark brown common among the Sub-Beastmen of the Cliff Shore Tribe, but a vivid emerald green.

His smile was sweet, his cheeks flushing as he shyly said, “I just got back. I wanted to see if Brother Jiu was here. I found a really sweet fruit.”

As he spoke, he held out several small red berries clutched in his hand for Yu to see.

Every day, gathering parties set out. The tribe would dispatch several strong Beastmen to accompany them—both for their safety and to assist in carrying loads in their beast forms, or even carrying people when venturing farther afield.

Without beastmen porters, reaching today’s destination—the dense western jungle—would require a full day’s trek on foot. But with their assistance, the team could easily depart early and return by nightfall.

The gathering team Tianlu belonged to had recently set out for the wild northern plains. That region lay farther from the Cliff Shore Tribe, requiring four days round trip even with Beastman porters. Yet because the plains teemed with wild fruit trees, and since the trees bore fruit at different times, the tribe’s gathering teams would visit periodically to harvest the ripe fruits. Sometimes, if they arrived too late, the fruits would be picked by members of other tribes or consumed by birds and beasts. The little red berries Tianlu brought back, for instance, were something they had never encountered before.

Yu broke his roasted potato in half and offered him one piece. He then scooped up the kitten, rubbing against his leg, ruffling its fluffy fur, and fed it a bite of potato.

“Mang Jiu hasn’t returned from hunting yet. Here, have some roasted potatoes. They’re delicious.”

Tianlu nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the warm potato in his hand, its faint aroma tempting him to take a bite. He did just that, and the soft, sticky texture made his eyes widen. “Delicious!”

Then, seeing the cub nestled in his arms happily munching on the potato, he asked in confusion, “Why is there a cub in Brother Jiu’s cave? Did it sneak in to play?”

Yu’s expression froze for a moment.

How could he explain to this little Sub-Beastman, whose eyes were filled with adoration for Mang Jiu, that his Brother Jiu had picked up another Sub-Beastman? Not only that, but he’d brought the Sub-Beastman back to live in the cave together. And to top it all off, they’d picked up a cub to raise as their own.

He had this feeling that if he told him, the little one would burst into tears right then and there.

Seeing Yu’s silence, Tianlu paused mid-bite on his potato and slowly lifted his head.

Among the Sub-Beastmen of the Cliff Shore Tribe, his height placed him among the shortest. It wasn’t due to malnutrition; rather, the Sub-Beastmen of his original tribe were generally this height.

In this world inhabited by Beastmen, the land was simply divided into five continents.

Beyond the central continent, the four surrounding continents—east, south, west, and north—enclosed the oceans. The central continent, legend had it, lay at the ocean’s heart—a paradise island. Yet no one had ever reached it, nor had any Beastman or Sub-Beastman ever claimed to come from there. The tales said the Beast God resided there.

The Cliff Shore Tribe resided on the Eastern Continent, where most Beastmen took the forms of mammalian predators. Of course, other types of Beastmen existed here too, though their numbers were relatively small.

The Western Continent was home to the winged tribes, commonly called Birdmen. They were naturally warlike, and conflicts between their tribes were constant.

The Northern Path is perpetually shrouded in ice and snow. Few Beastmen inhabit this continent, and those who do are exceptionally powerful. They rarely interact with inhabitants of other continents.

Most Beastmen dwelling along the Southern Path are scaled or armored types. Their lifespans are relatively longer than those of other Beastmen. They possess a gentle temperament, possessing formidable individual strength yet disliking warfare.

Tianlu once lived in a medium-sized tribe called Feiyu on the Western Continent. That land was home to many winged tribes who frequently fought and plundered one another. Peaceful coexistence between tribes was rare.

During one such tribal conflict, to prevent Tianlu from being captured and enslaved by another tribe, his Beastman brother carried him on his back and fled through the air. Unfortunately, they were struck down by enemy forces, plunging both Tianlu and his brother into the ocean.

Tianlu was fortunate—he did not drown. Instead, a giant wave carried him to another continent, where he was rescued by Mang Jiu, who happened to be bathing in the sea, and brought back to the Cliff Shore Tribe.

This young Sub-Beastman, newly come of age, was drawn to Mang Jiu, his savior. Especially when, in a daze, he glimpsed Mang Jiu’s massive beast form, love struck him instantly, love at first sight.

But Mang Jiu felt nothing for him. Or rather, Mang Jiu offered outright rejection to anyone who showed affection toward him, be they Beastmen or Sub-Beastmen.

Mang Jiu—he was an emotionless meat-eating machine!

The Cliff Shore Tribe boasted many powerful Beastmen. Those who regularly accompanied the gathering parties were mostly young, unattached males. With constant interaction, mutual attraction was inevitable.

Those rejected by Mang Jiu harbored no real resentment. After all, the concept of romantic love simply didn’t exist here.

If they fancied someone, they’d mate and produce offspring. Sometimes a Beastman might live with multiple Sub-Beastmen, and occasionally a Sub-Beastman would bear children for several Beastmen. Of course, there were also rare cases where one partner died, leaving the other to live out their days alone.

To ensure the continuation of their bloodlines, Beastmen observe a brief mating season each year after the rains arrive. During this time, they follow their instincts—courting and competing. The timing of this period varies slightly between different species.

This period is the most vibrant and passionate time for every tribe. It’s common to see two Beastmen fiercely fighting over the affection of a Sub-Beastman. Naturally, every race adheres to the rule that no life may be taken during the mating season. Even the most warlike races refrain from killing during this time—this is the deepest-rooted constraint ingrained in their very bones.

Back at the entrance to Mang Jiu’s cave, Tianlu looked at Yu, seeking answers from him.

His instincts told him something unusual had occurred.

Yu cleared his throat, set the kitten—which had already devoured half a roasted potato—down on the ground, then addressed Tianlu: “He’s a Giant Cat Tribe cub that Mang Jiu brought back. Mang Jiu really likes him, so he’s been raising him in the cave.”

It wasn’t that Mang Jiu liked him—it was Zhang Shuguang who insisted on raising him!

Tianlu eyed him suspiciously. In his memory, Mang Jiu wasn’t the type to fawn over cubs. Even during his own mating seasons as an adult, he’d endured them alone—never once seeking a mate to bear his offspring. Claiming he now cherished a cub, especially one from another tribe, sounded like utter nonsense!

Tianlu wasn’t stupid. On the contrary, surviving alone in the Cliff Shore Tribe had taught him to read people’s expressions. Yu’s unnaturalness clearly told him something was being hidden.

Perhaps it was something big—something related to him.

Tianlu bit his lip, his eyes reddening as he sniffed back tears. Head bowed, he asked plaintively, “Is it… because Brother Jiu hates me now? That’s why he’s with another Sub-Beastman?”

Yu felt his scalp tingle at the question. He wasn’t accustomed to soothing a subdued Sub-Beastman. He wasn’t a Beastman himself—Beastmen needed to court Sub-Beastmen to produce offspring! Only those young, impulsive Beastmen enjoyed the clingy, affectionate antics of Sub-Beastmen!

Just then, Fei emerged from the cave. She’d heard the commotion and came to investigate. Her gaze immediately fell upon Yu’s flustered expression and Tianlu, who stood with his head half-bowed, looking as if he’d suffered the greatest injustice.

Fei rolled her eyes dramatically. She had little patience for Sub-Beastmen with Tianlu’s soft, submissive nature. Especially since her mate, Xi San, had once praised Tianlu’s cuteness to her, claiming his fragility made him irresistibly protective.

Fei was always straightforward, speaking her mind regardless of whether it was flattering or not. She didn’t hold back if she felt like saying something, never afraid of offending anyone.

Seeing Tianlu here, even a fool could guess why he’d come.

Feiping snorted, her tone dripping with undisguised mockery. “You really are glued to Mang Jiu every second of the day. What’s the deal? Miss him so much your heart aches after a few days apart? Well, guess what? Mang Jiu doesn’t feel the same way. He picked up another Sub-Beastman, brought him back home and is doting on him like crazy!”

Tianlu stared at her wide-eyed, disbelief filling his gaze.

Fei shrugged, pointing at the obvious changes near the cave entrance. “You’re not blind. Do you really think Mang Jiu could do this? He doesn’t even like cooked meat—how could he use a stone pot? I’m telling you, he dug this stone pot out himself for Shuguang. That little brat is the one they’re raising, and they adore him! Plus, Shuguang’s way smarter than you—he’s the one who taught us how to roast potatoes!”

Tianlu looked down at the potato he’d taken a bite out of and pressed his lips tightly together.

Fei rolled her eyes again and turned to leave. She was just here to pick on Tianlu, making him cry over nothing. She couldn’t stand how he flirted with Xi San all the time!

Yu felt even more awkward. Scratching his head, he stammered, “Um, don’t listen to Fei’s nonsense.”

Tianlu’s eyes were red, tears welling up. Truthfully, they all knew Fei wasn’t talking nonsense. Mang Jiu really was a rough-and-ready guy—a pure bachelor who neither knew how nor cared about domestic life. Asking him to tidy the cave, start fires, cook meals, or dry fish? He’d never do it!

Yu sighed, patting Tianlu’s shoulder. “You’re exhausted. Why not head back and rest? If you have questions, ask Mang Jiu directly when he returns.”

Tianlu murmured softly, clutching the baked potato tightly. Head bowed, heart heavy, he began his descent down the mountain.

Yu sighed again, glancing back at Mang Jiu’s cave. In just one day, not only had many new items appeared inside, but it looked significantly tidier. Yu had to admit, Shuguang was an exceptionally capable Sub-Beastman!

The exceptionally capable Zhang Shuguang was unaware that he’d inadvertently drawn some hostility. Right now, he was facing a minor predicament. The shellfish dug up from the beach were at least half a palm in size, even the smallest ones. Just by holding them, he could tell they were plump and meaty.

The problem was that the shells were caked with thick mud. Scrubbing each one by hand would rub his palms raw.

Xi San transformed into human form, retrieved the leather skirt he’d left in the stone tub, and wrapped it around himself. Approaching Zhang Shuguang, who was crouched by the waterhole, he noticed the man’s hesitation and asked curiously, “What’s wrong? The water’s clean. You can use it.”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at him and asked, “I need a brush to scrub off the mud.” As he spoke, he held a shell in one hand and mimicked scrubbing motions on its surface with the other.

Xi San hadn’t known what a brush was, but after observing Zhang Shuguang’s actions, he thought for a moment and replied, “There’s a prickly grass in the woods over there. It should work. Wait here, I’ll go look for some.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. Watching Xi San dart in and out of the woods until he vanished, he turned back and sorted all the shellfish. He placed the fan-shaped ones in one pile and the spiral-shaped ones in another.

He noticed each fan-shaped shell felt surprisingly heavy, fueling his hope that a sea pearl might emerge. He recalled watching live streams where people opened sea clams, revealing perfectly round pearls with soft, luminous colors and full brilliance—absolutely stunning. He’d even tried opening a few himself, but his luck had been poor, never uncovering a high-quality pearl.

With these thoughts swirling, Zhang Shuguang grew increasingly eager to see what pearls might emerge. He picked up the largest fan-shaped shell, gave it a shake, then drove a bone knife into the crevice and pried it open with force. 

After much effort, the shell separated. Inside, the clam meat was creamy white and plump, trembling slightly, tempting anyone to reach out and poke it. Zhang Shuguang did just that. He pressed his index finger lightly against the flesh—slippery and soft, with a surprisingly pleasant texture.

Pressing into the plumpest, roundest part, he found a hard object inside. His eyes lit up. A sea pearl! A wild one! He couldn’t wait to squeeze the pearl out of the flesh. Though not as large as he’d imagined, it was still thumb-sized. Jet black, without a speck of blemish, perfectly round and smooth, it bore only two tiny growth holes—barely noticeable.

Just then, Xi San returned with a handful of prickly grass. Spotting the round object between Zhang Shuguang’s fingers, he looked astonished.

“What is this?” Xi San set the grass down and stared intently at the small pearl in Zhang Shuguang’s hand. “It’s quite beautiful.”

Zhang Shuguang handed him the black pearl, smiling broadly. “This is a pearl from a shell. It can be used medicinally or as jewelry. You could drill a hole, add a hook, and wear it as an earring.” Here, both men and women were clean and unadorned, wearing no accessories whatsoever. He felt he could lead the trend once more.

Pearl necklaces, pearl rings, pearl earrings—how beautiful!

Xi San examined the small, round bead in his hand, raising an eyebrow. “Is there one in every shell?”

“Not necessarily. It depends on luck, and sometimes flawed pearls form. Not everyone is guaranteed to be perfectly round.” Zhang Shuguang picked up several prickly grasses to examine.

This grass was a mystery—a thin wooden stick sprouted numerous spines about 3 centimeters long. The spines were slightly hard but not brittle. After testing it on the ground, he found that if secured properly, it could easily serve as a brush—a long one with spines covering all 360 degrees.

“Brother Xi San, could you help me find a few vines? I’ll secure the prickly grass to make a brush. You can take this pearl back to Sister Fei—she’ll definitely love it.” It was during their earlier conversation that Zhang Shuguang learned Xi San and Fei were family.

Xi San had intended to return the pearl, but upon hearing this, he recalled how his own Sub-Beastman family members always liked to wash their faces extra thoroughly to stay clean. Nodding, he placed the pearl in his mouth.

Zhang Shuguang froze. What? He actually ate it?!

Seeing Zhang Shuguang’s wide-eyed, startled expression, Xi San chuckled. “Our tribe’s mouths have a small pouch. It stores clean water to quench thirst during runs, or holds small items like this for easy carrying.”

Zhang Shuguang was even more astonished. Beastmen truly were a marvelous species.

“Do all Beastmen have this?”

Xi San replied, “Not necessarily. It depends on the specific race.”

Zhang Shuguang murmured an “Oh” and didn’t press further.

Xi San fetched some vines for him—not as thick as the ones Mang Jiu had brought earlier, but still quite resilient.

Zhang Shuguang sliced the vines into thin strips with his bone knife, then bundled the prickly grass together. Testing it with a shell, he found it worked quite well.

With a handy tool, he scrubbed the shells much faster. He placed the cleaned ones into a stone tub filled with water.

Xi San watched and copied Zhang Shuguang’s movements, making his own prickly grass brush. He then took the crabs from his leather pouch and scrubbed them too.

After finishing the bivalves, Zhang Shuguang turned to the nearby snails. He noticed these various species were quite large—perfect for sashimi.

He couldn’t help but sigh, “It’s so good to be free of pollution. Sashimi really is delicious.”

“Don’t people from the tribe usually come to the coast to gather seafood?” Since he was just sitting there anyway, he struck up a conversation with Xi San.

Xi San shook his head, his hands moving steadily as he replied, “No one from the tribe has ever eaten it, so no one comes to gather it. They rarely come to the coast at all. Only Mang Jiu likes to transform into his beast form and come for a dip.”

Zhang Shuguang tilted his head at him and asked, “Don’t others like to soak in the water?”

“Have you ever seen any furry creature enjoy soaking in the water? Though our Giant Rhinoceros tribe can swim, none of us soaks in the sea. Mang Jiu is the only one in the entire tribe.”

Zhang Shuguang casually asked, “What beast form does Mang Jiu take?”

Xi San froze, then turned to look at him. “You don’t know?”

Zhang Shuguang blinked innocently. Why would I know?

“He’s from the Giant Serpent Clan. Only ten of us belong to that clan in our tribe. Mang Jiu is the youngest—I remember he just shed his skin not long ago. Don’t let his usual cold demeanor fool you; he’s actually a good guy with a steady temperament. The other Giant Serpent Clan members are also warm, easygoing, and pleasant to be around.”

Xi San thought Zhang Shuguang was worried—that as Mang Jiu’s Sub-Beastman, he didn’t know how to interact with the Giant Serpent Clan and was putting in a good word for his brothers.

Zhang Shuguang’s hands froze mid-motion. He hadn’t caught everything Xi San said, but three words stuck in his mind: Giant Serpent Clan.

He had always believed, always believed Mang Jiu was called Mang Jiu simply because that was his name. And what was the truth?

The “Mang” was 蟒 meaning python, not 芒 meaning light! He was the youngest, likely the ninth born, hence the ‘Jiu’ (九, nine), not the “Jiu” (久, long) he had assumed.

This misunderstanding sent a chill down his spine!

He’d suspected Mang Jiu’s beast form lacked fur, but he’d never once considered the possibility that he was a python! Even pythons on Earth were thick and long enough—let alone in this Beast World!

A giant python? How enormous must that be!

Having seen Xiong Kui’s black bear form and Xi San’s rhinoceros form, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Mang Jiu’s beast form might look like.

Just the thought of it sent layer upon layer of goosebumps crawling up his skin.

Aaaahhh!!!

My savior, even though I knew he had a hairless beast form!!!

But!!!!

I never imagined he’d be a snake!!

And a very, very thick python at that!!!

God, are you messing with me!!!

After Xi San finished scrubbing the crabs, he noticed Zhang Shuguang still crouched there and asked, “Aren’t you leaving?”

Zhang Shuguang snapped back to reality, expressionless as he washed his hands. He cupped water to splash his face, trying to calm himself.

Now wasn’t the time to obsess over what kind of beast form Mang Jiu was. He had too much to do to waste time on such distractions.

“Let’s go. Change the water in the stone tub—these shellfish will spit out sand.”

Xi San nodded, replacing the water in the stone bucket with clean water. He then fetched another bucket of fresh water. Retreating behind a nearby tree, he shed his leather skirt and transformed into a rhinoceros. “Alright, let’s go.”

Zhang Shuguang picked up his leather skirt and carried it, then struggled to climb onto the bull’s back. “Can you speak in beast form?”

Xi San grunted. “Speaking in beast form makes your mouth fill with wind. It’s uncomfortable.”

Zhang Shuguang froze, then swept away the awkwardness of his earlier fright at Mang Jiu’s beast form. He chuckled, imagining the scene, then burst into such loud laughter he nearly slid off the rhino’s back.

Xi San sighed. “Hold on tight. I’m running.” With that, he spread his four hooves and charged forward.

Zhang Shuguang’s laughter turned into gasps. Fighting for his life, he threw himself forward, scrambling to brace himself.

The massive rhinoceros charged through the forest, startling countless birds and beasts. Zhang Shuguang even glimpsed a bird with an exceptionally long tail darting overhead. Its tail feathers shimmered emerald green with hints of dark blue, each feather distinct and sharp.

A peacock?

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened, but in a flash, the bird had vanished into the tall grass.

“Xiao Cai! Xiao Cai!”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here!”

Zhang Shuguang: “That was a peacock just now, right?”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I don’t study biology. I’m just a vegetable app.”

Zhang Shuguang: “What good are you then?!”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I feel ashamed.”

Zhang Shuguang: “…For a system, you’re surprisingly emotional. Can you search for bamboo groves nearby?” He was still preoccupied with his bamboo shoot task; the two he’d brought back yesterday clearly weren’t enough.

Xiao Cai: “No results found. Any bamboo groves are beyond navigation range.”

Zhang Shuguang recalled the undetected sorghum from that day and nodded slightly. “Alright, go into hibernation.”

Xiao Cai: “Understood, Master. Call me anytime. Mission timer: 1 hour, 28 minutes, 37 seconds remaining.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself: You can’t even help me identify species, so what’s the point of having you? And you won’t even chat freely—just wasting battery.

At the shore, Xi San placed the stone bucket he’d been carrying in his mouth beside the fire. He bit the leather skirt from Zhang Shuguang’s hand and retreated behind a tree to shift into human form.

Zhang Shuguang stroked his chin, considering whether to design clothing that would make it easier for Beastmen to transform without the hassle of changing outfits. But the image of their massive animal forms made him dismiss the idea immediately.

Peering at the steaming stone bucket, he noticed the seawater inside had already turned from clear to murky in just a short while.

A smile touched his eyes as he addressed Xiong Kui, who was holding the bucket over the fire: “Chief, at this rate, we should have salt boiled out before sunset.”

Xiong Kui nodded. In truth, after noticing the seawater’s color change, he had already tasted it and found it far saltier than when they’d first drawn it.

This discovery filled Xiong Kui with astonishment—even a thrill of joy after the initial shock.

Wu Ming, his own rough hands trembling, grabbed Zhang Shuguang the moment he returned, his eyes brimming with uncontrollable excitement.

“You did it! I knew you could!”

Zhang Shuguang played along with Wu Ming’s excitement, putting on an equally thrilled expression as he nodded repeatedly: “Yes, yes, yes! I did it! I turned seawater into salt!”

The wrinkles on Wu Ming’s face deepened with his beaming smile, while Xiong Kui and Xi San beside him were equally elated.

After sharing in Old Wu’s joy for a couple of minutes, Zhang Shuguang couldn’t help but think about the mission’s countdown. He spoke up: “Let’s cook these first. We can talk while we eat.”

After calculating the time remaining for the mission and glancing at the clams and snails in the stone bucket, Zhang Shuguang buried all the large crabs Xi San had washed into the sand pit they’d dug earlier. He then spread a thin layer of sand over them, topped with a thick layer of dry grass, and immediately lit the grass to burn on the sand.

He planned to feed the three men first. The old shaman wouldn’t eat much—the largest crab weighed nearly eight or nine pounds. Wu Ming figured he’d be full after just two crab legs. The rest would go to Xiong Kui and Xi San, whom he reminded not to chew and swallow the shells whole, as it would spoil the flavor.

After about thirteen minutes, the uniquely savory aroma of seafood wafted through the smoke. With over twenty large crabs roasting, the fragrance was far more intense than when just one had been cooked.

When Xiong Kui ate his first crab, he hadn’t found it particularly delicious. But now, he felt differently.

This aroma was truly irresistible—the kind of fragrance you couldn’t bear to resist!

Xi San unconsciously swallowed hard and turned to Zhang Shuguang. “Can we eat now?”

Zhang Shuguang flipped the crabs out of the pit, checked their color, and nodded. “They’re done. Don’t eat the shells—just the meat. The flavor is exceptional!”

Half-convinced, half-skeptical, they followed his advice. Ignoring the heat, each grabbed a large crab and began clumsily prying meat from the hard shells.

A mouthful of steaming, pinkish-white crab meat dissolved in their mouths. Beneath the salty, savory flavor lay hints of sweetness. The flesh was tender yet springy, its fresh aroma shooting straight to their brains.

Xiong Kui nearly gasped after just one bite. Holding half a crab leg aloft, he stared wide-eyed at the bright red, spiny creature, unable to believe he’d just eaten the flesh of such an ugly thing! He quickly swallowed the meat in his mouth and buried his head back in the other half of the leg, eating without looking up.

Xi San wasn’t much better. So enamored by the savory flavor, he devoured every last bit of meat from the leg, even slurping up the last drops of broth inside with a satisfying “slurp, slurp, slurp.”

Zhang Shuguang shared a large crab with Wu Ming beside him. The moment the crab meat touched his tongue, he nearly wept.

What exquisite flavor!

A hundred times fresher than any king crab, snow crab, or bread crab he’d ever tasted!

Wu Ming slowly gnawed on a crab leg, his gaze fixed on Zhang Shuguang with utter satisfaction.

After eating two crab legs, Zhang Shuguang stopped. He rose and walked to the stone tub, stirring its contents with a wooden stick before tossing in one of the green lemons he carried.

The green lemons carried a refreshing fragrance that perfectly balanced the briny taste of shellfish, enhancing the aroma. Their tartness also cut through the saltiness and richness of the seafood, making them an excellent seasoning.

He dared not add too many, wary that the high vitamin C content might lead to food poisoning later.

Wu Ming noticed his actions and asked why he was doing this.

Zhang Shuguang sat beside him, smiling as he explained. But his gaze was quickly drawn to Xiong Kui and Xi San. Seeing the crab shells piled beside them, his mouth twitched.

Those two must have bottomless stomachs!

Averaging eleven large crabs per person, and now they’d only left one or two?

Judging by their expressions, they didn’t seem remotely full either.

Zhang Shuguang mentally called out: “Xiao Cai, Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang: “How much time is left on the mission?”

Xiao Cai: “28 minutes and 58 seconds remaining.”

Zhang Shuguang frowned slightly, troubled. It seemed he wouldn’t be able to complete this mission.

As he pondered this, Xiong Kui, who had been gnawing on a crab, lowered his hand. His fingers were wrinkled and pale from the crab juice.

Xiong Kui glanced at the single large crab left on the side and let out a loud burp.

“Burp~~ I didn’t eat that much, how come I’m stuffed!”

Xi San could eat a bit more than he did. Only after finishing his entire crab did he belch and rub his belly, “I’m full too.”

Zhang Shuguang was extremely satisfied!

If they’d been told to just crunch through the shells, they certainly wouldn’t have felt full.

But picking out the meat while cracking the shells was different—it worked the same way as someone dieting, slowly savoring chicken feet and still feeling satisfied.

He admitted he’d been a bit crafty.

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at Wu Ming and asked, “Shaman, are you full?“

Wu Ming nodded. ”I’m full. I couldn’t eat that many crabs. You eat some more.“

Zhang Shuguang responded with a smile, picking up the now-cooled crab to crack open and eat the meat. ”Xiao Cai, is the task complete?”

Xiao Cai: “Done, Master. You really are a clever one!”

Zhang Shuguang accepted his praise. Yes, I am a clever one. Otherwise, how could I possibly complete such a tricky task!

Thinking of the reward—15 minutes of unrestricted video viewing—Zhang Shuguang felt a surge of excitement. He wanted to watch the videos he’d recorded for his family back home. Even though he’d accepted the possibility that he might never return to his world, he still missed them.

“Xiao Cai, go into standby mode.”

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang planned to watch the videos before bed tonight. Right now, he still needed to boil salt and shellfish. Besides, he knew Xiong Kui and Xi San would be hungry soon—they’d need to keep eating.

The shellfish opened their shells shortly after the water boiled. Zhang Shuguang used two sticks as long chopsticks to scoop out all the opened fan-shaped clams, placing them on the large banana leaves Xi San had picked.

“Eat these straight up?” Xiong Kui asked.

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Just pry open the shells and eat the meat inside. If there’s sand, rinse it off in the water.”

Xiong Kui reached for one, pried it open, and with a flick of his tongue, the tender white clam meat slid into his large mouth.

A crunch made Xiong Kui frown, but he didn’t spit out the gritty object. Instead, he chewed it up and swallowed it along with the smooth, soft, and fresh clam meat.

Just then, Zhang Shuguang added, “These clams might contain pearls inside, so be careful when eating them.” No sooner had he spoken than Xi San pulled a smooth, pink pearl from his mouth. “Like this.”

Xiong Kui froze, scratching his face. “What’s this for? I think I just ate one.”

Zhang Shuguang gasped, waving his hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Pearls have medicinal value—they’re good stuff. Eating one won’t hurt you, just don’t eat too many.”

Xiong Kui reached out and took the pearl from Xi San’s palm, holding it up to the sunlight. “Pretty.”

“Yeah, you could string them together as jewelry. If you could collect more, you could probably trade them with other tribes for things.”

Zhang Shuguang thought that even if the people of the Cliff Shore Tribe didn’t adorn themselves, it was only because no one had guided them to unlock that skill.

This didn’t mean other tribes lacked those who loved to dress up and look beautiful. The pearl’s color, quality, and shape were all excellent—it truly wouldn’t be hard to find a buyer.

Xiong Kui’s eyes lit up. He returned the pearl to Xi San and began concentrating on opening shells.

The sound of cracking echoed continuously, but the results were disappointing. After opening over a dozen shells, Xiong Kui only found one pale blue pearl, and its shape wasn’t as round as Xi San’s pink one earlier.

Xi San gloated, “Chief, you’re doing it wrong. Shuguang said pearls aren’t found in every shell—it’s all about luck.”

He might as well have plastered “Lucky Me” on my forehead.

Xiong Kui raised his hand and slapped him, snorting, “You can’t even keep your mouth shut while eating!”

Wu, who had been silently eating, pulled a pure black pearl from his mouth. This pearl was darker than the one Zhang Shuguang had opened earlier, larger, and more perfectly round.

Wu Ming stared at the pearl in his hand for a moment, then suddenly stood up. He raised the black pearl high above his head, both hands cupped around it. “This is a divine gift! The gods have sent a messenger to strengthen our tribe!” His shout was deafening.

As soon as he finished, he dropped to his knees with a thud, performing a full kneeling salute before Zhang Shuguang.

While he was shouting, Xiong Kui and Xi San had already reacted. They too knelt on both knees, their gazes toward Zhang Shuguang transformed into one of profound reverence.

Zhang Shuguang froze solid.

He’d just grabbed a shell, about to pop the meat into his mouth, when their outburst froze him in place. He remained frozen in a comical pose, eyes wide as saucers.

What the hell?

Who’s this messenger sent by the gods?

Old man, don’t think your unusual appearance gives you license to spout nonsense!

Let me tell you, I may be easygoing, but I won’t be fooled. Don’t even think about enslaving me!

“Divine messenger! Accept me as your loyal servant! I am willing…” Wu Ming continued shouting, his voice loud and booming, showing not a trace of the fatigue and old age he had displayed moments before.

Zhang Shuguang held out his hand, fingers splayed before the old man. His expression remained stony. “Shaman, could you please stop forcing this upon me?”

Did he take him for a fool? Such an obvious ploy—couldn’t he at least pretend to be sincere?

Wu Ming’s unspoken words caught in his throat. His half-open mouth looked slightly awkward.

Zhang Shuguang sighed, helping the old shaman to his feet. “I know what you’re going to say.”

Wu Ming rose unsteadily, looking as if he might faint at any moment—a stark contrast to the resonant, tenor-like voice from moments before.

Zhang Shuguang couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Wu Ming. “Wu, can we cut the act? You didn’t even use any Shaman magic or prayers. You just finished half a crab and three shells—you’re not so weak you can’t stand!”

Xiong Kui and Xi San exchanged glances, simultaneously shifting from kneeling to sitting. They reached out, and each grabbed a large shell.

Zhang Shuguang shot them both a speechless look.

A middle-aged uncle and a strapping young man—could you two be a little more reliable?

Xiong Kui pulled a white pearl with faint pink patterns from his mouth, examining it. “This one’s pretty nice too.”

Xi San glanced at it and offered advice, “Give it to Hua. She’ll bear you two more cubs.”

Xiong Kui’s eyes lit up. “Right, you’re absolutely right.” His youngest cub was already ten snow seasons old  and had joined the hunting party for training. It was time to add a few more little ones to play with.

Wu Ming glared at Zhang Shuguang and snorted, “Go ahead and accept it! Being a divine messenger is so great!”

“What’s so great about it?” Zhang Shuguang helped him sit down. “Besides, your story sounds too fake. Divine gift? Have you even seen a god?”

Wu Ming’s expression turned serious as he tapped Zhang Shuguang’s forehead. “Don’t talk nonsense. The Beast God is real.”

Zhang Shuguang curled his lip, then turned to stir the snails still simmering in the stone pot with his chopsticks. Seeing they were nearly done, he began scooping them out one by one.

He used a small wooden stick to extract the meat, discarding the liver and other parts. He blew on it before taking a bite.

Tilting his head to savor the flavor, he found the snail…

The meat tastes similar to shellfish, but it’s more springy and chewy. However, it’s not quite suitable for someone like Wu Ming with poor teeth—it’s tough to chew.

Using a fishbone knife, he sliced it into small pieces and handed them to Wu Ming. Zhang Shuguang said, “I truly cannot be the Divine Messenger. I thank you for your kindness. Even without bearing that title, I will still share what I know with everyone.“

Xiong Kui glanced at him. Wu Ming sighed. Xi San wiped his damp hands on his leather skirt and said to Zhang Shuguang, ”You are worthy of the title Divine Messenger.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled faintly. “We’ll see about that later. Let’s check how the salted fish is cooking first.”

He changed the subject, unwilling to continue this conversation with the three of them, lest he accidentally get himself tangled up.

In the stone vat where the seawater boiled, the liquid had nearly evaporated. Zhang Shuguang stirred it with chopsticks—a thick layer of wet salt formed, which would yield at least a pound or so once dried. The seawater’s salt content was remarkably dense, far higher than he’d anticipated.

“Let it boil a bit longer, then cool it off.”

The three men rose and gathered around the stone cauldron, watching intently as the boiling continued. When only a thin layer of seawater remained at the bottom, Zhang Shuguang extinguished the fire beneath.

“There’s still water left. Why stop boiling?” Wu Ming asked, puzzled.

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “No more boiling. The remaining water contains minor impurities. I’ll extract this portion first and let it dry.”

The wet salt crystals were scooped onto large banana leaves. He placed the leaves in a well-ventilated spot and spread the salt out to dry.

Wu Ming stood nearby, watching intently. He wanted to witness the miracle unfold.

The coastal wind was strong. Spread on the large leaves, the wet salt dried and hardened quickly.

Under the gaze of the three, Zhang Shuguang broke off pieces from the large salt crystals and offered them. “Try some?” He pinched a bit for himself, licked it, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

The taste—fresh, salty!

“You’re not a divine messenger—you’re a divine child! Only a divine child can receive the gods’ favor and turn seawater into salt!”

Wu Ming’s cry rang out again. This time, he didn’t kneel, yet his words carried more earnestness than his earlier single knee.

In the old Shaman’s eyes, Zhang Shuguang no longer saw calculation.

Well, he was in deep water now!