Mang Jiu is back!

Zhang Shuguang couldn’t quite explain why he felt so happy, but upon reflection, he realized Mang Jiu could help him with so many things—and suddenly understood what the other meant.

Free labor!

He rushed to the cliff’s edge and looked down, only to see five unfamiliar, youthful-looking Beastmen. Neither their height nor build matched the figure he’d hoped to see.

An indescribable disappointment washed over him. What a waste of excitement.

He pursed his lips, turned, and went back inside the cave to continue his work. He brought out all the fan-shaped shells, then sorted through the large and small conch shells. He kept the ones suitable for holding things and discarded the unsuitable ones.

“I’ve only ever seen this in cartoons before—using such a huge conch shell to hold water. Looks pretty good, actually,” he murmured with a smile, cradling an enormous conch shell in his hands and examining it from all angles.

Nai Dou sat perched on his shoulder, tilting his head as the fine white whiskers on his face twitched.

Zhang Shuguang wedged the giant conch shell into the gap between his stone slab bed and the wall. Pressing it firmly, he found it fit snugly. He then gathered some dry grass to line the innermost layer, topped it with leftover leather scraps from his previous bag-making, and finally cut a long-haired pelt to size with his fishbone knife, laying it over the top.

“This is your nest now. How’s that?” He lifted the kitten from his shoulder and placed it on the fur, ruffling its fluffy head. “So you won’t get squished sleeping next to me. When you grow too big for this, Daddy will get you a better nest.”

Nai Dou padded softly with all four little paws on the plush fur, then rolled around a few times before curling into a tight ball, settling comfortably.

“Meow~”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly, giving its soft little face a gentle pinch. “Want something tasty? Daddy will make you some bamboo shoot, potato, and fish soup.”

Nai Dou let out another spoiled meow, opening its furry mouth to yawn.

Zhang Shuguang gathered the unused snail shells into a pile, intending to carry them down the back mountain tomorrow to discard. He then turned over the dried wild greens spread on the straw mat. He found that a day of sun and wind had turned the once tender greens dry and hard, their moisture completely evaporated.

He fetched two large shells from the cave and placed the dried vegetables inside.

His stomach growled twice—not from hunger, but from the urge to relieve himself.

This realization brought him a mix of surprise and unease.

Earlier, when there was no reaction, he’d worried he might be constipated. But now that there was a reaction—a rather intense one—he fretted that he might have simply eaten too much seafood!

There was no time to dwell on it. Zhang Shuguang clenched his anal sphincter and broke into a quick trot.

His stomach ached!

It was probably from eating too much cold seafood at once. Just as Zhang Shuguang reached the first floor, sharp pains began radiating from his abdomen.

He couldn’t hold it any longer!

Sweat pouring down his face, Zhang Shuguang couldn’t spare the time to search for the large pit Yu had mentioned earlier. Instead, he dashed toward his small vegetable patch, found a spot where tall grass hadn’t been completely burned, and hastily dug a hole in the ground with his feet.

Three minutes later, Zhang Shuguang crouched there, his face slightly pale, grabbing a large handful of tall grass.

So embarrassing!

But there was no other way!

He truly missed the days of toilet paper.

Even low-quality paper would have sufficed!

Ten minutes later, Zhang Shuguang appeared beside the stone basin in the fourth cave level. He scooped water with a large conch shell to wash his hands—but not just his hands. He also rubbed green lemons and fine salt together, carefully sniffing the scent as he scrubbed.

Only after washing his hands three times, rubbing them until they were red, did he feel truly clean.

Truthfully, he’d been meticulous—not a speck of the task’s substance had touched him. Yet his mind couldn’t let it go.

No, I need to find something to replace toilet paper. Grabbing tall grass or whatever—just once is enough!

Zhang Shuguang vowed silently that even if he went without food or water tomorrow, he’d solve this problem.

Shaking his wet hands, he turned toward the cave and noticed the two Beastmen who had been sitting there earlier were still present, though their gazes now held a peculiar intensity.

He glanced down at himself, finding nothing amiss.

But over the past two days, he’d grown accustomed to being scrutinized—glances stolen and stares fixed upon him. So, he offered the two a friendly smile before entering the cave.

He still needed to prepare some food for the cub, and he himself needed to eat more. The seafood he’d just devoured would be easily digested, and if he didn’t eat now, he’d wake up hungry in the middle of the night.

Meng Er and Ying Liu sat on a rock nearby, watching Zhang Shuguang bustle about inside and out. When they saw him rubbing sticks together to start a fire, Meng Er’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Ying Liu had never witnessed fire-making without Shamanic power either. Though he’d heard rumors about this Sub-Beastman’s ability, hearing about it and seeing it were two entirely different experiences.

It was both wondrous and awe-inspiring!

The two stared intently at Zhang Shuguang’s movements. They watched as he used dry grass to fan the flames into a roaring blaze, saw him add thin twigs to the fire, and then gather thicker logs to place atop the twigs.

The flames grew larger. Zhang Shuguang scooped the leftover fish broth from the morning into a large conch shell using a seashell. He bent down, sniffed it, then licked it. Finding the flavor unchanged, he decided to add it back to the soup later—no need to waste it.

“You…” Mang Er hissed, but his voice was too soft to catch Zhang Shuguang’s attention.

The Beastman distributing meat down the mountain bellowed, “Come get your share if you’re okay!”

Zhang Shuguang heard him but didn’t move.

He recalled the rule from Li: no gathering, no share of wild vegetables or fruits. Likely, the meat distribution followed the same principle.

Ying Liu rose and leapt directly off the cliff edge. Zhang Shuguang caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and startled.

“Careful!”

Mang Er blinked, watching him with an amused expression.

This Sub-Beastman must be from some marginal tribe. He’d never seen a Giant Eagle Clan Beastman before and didn’t know they could fly.

Zhang Shuguang ran to the cliff’s edge and looked down. He saw Ying Liu, who had just jumped, spread a pair of black-and-gold wings behind him. Flapping them, he glided down smoothly and landed safely on the ground.

He was stunned.

“The Giant Eagle Clan can spread their wings while in human form. They aren’t afraid of jumping from heights,” Mang Er explained, amused by his expression.

Zhang Shuguang nodded dazedly, his mind fixated on a single thought: These were the legendary bird-people!

Mang Er added, “Aren’t you going down to get the meat?”

Zhang Shuguang snapped back to reality, turning to face him with surprise. “I can get meat too?”

“Of course! The meat brought back by Mang Jiu and the hunting party is yours to share. In our tribe, everyone gets a portion—those who worked harder get more, those who didn’t get less. I heard they had a good haul; this is the first batch brought back.” Mang Er stood up, intending to go down and claim his share.

Zhang Shuguang hadn’t expected such good fortune. He smiled even more sincerely and thanked Mang Er.

He first added water to the stone pot and set it to boil before heading down the mountain path.

Before the mountain peaks where the Cliff Shore Tribe resided lay a vast, well-trodden platform of earth, compacted by the massive footprints of the Beastmen. At this moment, everyone gathered on the platform, surrounding the five members of the hunting party and the many game they had brought back.

Zhang Shuguang stood at a distance, watching them take the meat with satisfied, joyful expressions.

“So many giant boar beasts! The meat is tender, but it does have a bit of a gamey taste.”

“Still better than baa-baa beast meat. baa-baa beast meat has the strongest flavor.”

“I spotted a few Longleg Beasts earlier, too. They run so fast, yet they still get caught. Only Mang Jiu’s hunting team could manage that. They bagged the most beasts again this time.”

“More than just a lot! Didn’t you hear them say this is just the first haul? Finding so many beasts right after the snow melted? That’s impressive.”

“If only I could lay eggs for Mang Jiu. Too bad I’ve told him so many times, but he never pays me any mind.”

“Dream on! Even our tribe’s most beautiful girl, Jiao, didn’t get a second glance from Mang Jiu. His standards are way too high!”

“Hey, you know, that Sub-Beastman he brought back this time—isn’t he kinda special?”

“You mean that guy called Shuguang? I don’t know, but he must be different somehow. I saw him leave with the Chief and the Shaman this morning. The Shaman hasn’t left the tribe in ages, and he got to go with him? Lucky bastard.”

“Shh! Don’t say that—he’s right behind us!”

Zhang Shuguang felt a bit awkward when the gossip turned to him, but when the gossipers turned to look at him, he merely returned a faint smile.

What else could he do?

“Those who didn’t get meat, hurry up! Once we’re done dividing it, we still have to go back for the rest!” Xiong Hui shouted, holding a blood-dripping stone axe. “Pick whichever piece you want.”

“I want a leg from the Long-Legged Beast!”

“Give me a hog beast head!”

“The one who wants the leg—aren’t you afraid of eating so much you’ll burst?”

“So what if I want to eat it slowly? Is that a problem?”

“You haven’t been hunting for days—how dare you take so much meat!”

As the argument threatened to escalate, Xiong Hui snapped, “Back off, all of you! Can’t you count how much meat you’re taking? All you think about is eating!”

Zhang Shuguang found the scene increasingly amusing. Glancing at Mang Er beside him, he whispered, “But when the Beastmen in the tribe shift into beast form, they can eat huge amounts. Doesn’t the meat go bad?”

Mang Er shook his head. “The tribe has rules. You can’t just shift into beast form and gorge yourself because there’s extra meat. That would leave nothing for the Beastmen to share. What about the Sub-Beastmen and the little ones? Those who didn’t participate in the hunt or gathering only get a small portion.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded slightly. Work hard, get more; and those who did less got less. Fair enough.

Xiong Hui, strong as an ox, swiftly chopped and distributed the meat they requested. Wiping sweat from his brow, he spotted Zhang Shuguang standing at the edge of the crowd, with Mang Er beside him.

He raised his hand and waved. “Shuguang, come on, step forward!”

Zhang Shuguang froze, then waved frantically under the stares of the crowd. “No need, no need. I’ll just wait in line.” He didn’t actually know Xiong Hui, but the fact that the man had called out his name felt strangely unsettling.

He didn’t know that because of the potatoes, he’d become a minor sensation in the tribe. Most of those watching him were Beastmen, while the Sub-Beastmen hadn’t made much noise. Still, some Sub-Beastmen were observing him in secret, trying to figure out what made him different enough to attract the attention of Mang Jiu, the tribe’s foremost warrior.

Xiong Hui swung his stone axe and laughed heartily. “You’re different. Come here—Mang Jiu told me to bring you a giant boar beast cub.”

He stepped back, then dug a much smaller cub from beneath a pile of giant boar beast carcasses.

Zhang Shuguang stared at the creature with a complex expression. It lay on the ground, covered in long black fur, with two sharp fangs protruding from its snout, a fat head, large ears, and a broad snout. Its size resembled that of a yellow ox.

So this is what they call a giant boar beast here. He learned something new!

Then it dawned on him—the “baa-baa beasts” they mentioned earlier were probably sheep. As for the “long-legged beasts”… He glanced at the creature beside him: a creature covered in long black feathers, a slender neck supporting a small head, and two long, smooth, muscular legs extending from its body.

Got it. This is a variant of an ostrich.

Good heavens, the author of this book must be hopeless at naming things!

Despite his mental rant, Zhang Shuguang stepped forward. Staring at the nearly 400-pound, black-haired, fat boar, he couldn’t for the life of him connect this creature to the concept of a “cub.”

This thing couldn’t possibly be born this big, could it?

His gaze shifted to the giant boar beasts, as big as oxen. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t impossible.

Xiong Hui carried a pig leg by its leg to him. Seeing his troubled expression, he realized Zhang might not be able to lift it and quickly offered, “I’ll have someone carry it up for you.”

Just as Zhang Shuguang was about to say it wasn’t necessary and he could drag it up himself, someone beside him spoke up, “Give it to me. I’ll carry it up for him.”

Xiong Hui nodded. “Mang Er, you finally woke up. We thought you’d starved to death in your hibernation den.”

Zhang Shuguang turned to look, asking in surprise, “Your name is Mang Er? So you and Mang Jiu are brothers?”

“Yeah, same mom,” Mang Er told Xiong Hui. “Just cut me some meat. I’m joining the hunting party tomorrow.”

Xiong Hui nodded, slicing a chunk of hog beast meat and handing it over. “Just a bit,” he’d said, but it easily weighed ten pounds.

At the cave entrance, Zhang Shuguang thanked Mang Er.

Mang Er scratched his head, devoured his portion in a few bites, wiped the blood from his mouth, and grinned.

Zhang Shuguang shuddered at the sight of his smile.

The way this guy eats is downright creepy—like a wild version of Hannibal!

“Um, well… I saw the little one eating fish with Ying Liu earlier and couldn’t resist grabbing two for myself. I’ll catch you a few more when I return from hunting,” Mang Er scratched his head, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Don’t be mad at me, okay?”

Zhang Shuguang glanced at the fish hanging on his pole. Truthfully, he hadn’t even noticed any were missing.

He recalled seeing Mang Er and that bird man sitting by the cave entrance when he returned earlier. They must have wanted to tell him about this then, but he’d been so busy they never got the chance.

“Sure, catch me a few bigger ones. We can share them later.” He wouldn’t refuse their apology, but he genuinely didn’t think losing two fish was a big deal.

Just as they spoke, the birdman from earlier flapped his wings and flew up, clutching a bloody leg in his hand.

Judging by its length—hmm, a large ostrich leg, extra-large version.

“This is for you,” Ying Liu set the leg down and said to Zhang Shuguang, “Your fish is really delicious. Could you teach me how to make it?”

Zhang Shuguang glanced at the pig he’d been given, plus the huge leg—it was really quite a lot of meat.

“Why not watch when I prepare the cured meat later? If you have enough salt at home, this method preserves meat longer. Fish and meat are cured the same way.”

Mang Er scratched his chin and said to Zhang Shuguang, “I have plenty of salt blocks in my cave. Wait a moment, I’ll fetch some for you.”

Zhang Shuguang wasn’t particularly keen on using those inferior salt blocks, but his own supply of fine salt was too meager to preserve meat, let alone make cured meats or sausages.

Ying Liu also chimed in, “My brother has plenty of salt blocks too. I’ll go get some!”

“No need!” Zhang Shuguang quickly interjected. “Just learn the method to cure meat yourself when you get back. You don’t have to bring all the salt over.”

Ying Liu paused, his eyes sweeping over the hog beast and the long-legged game lying on the ground. He asked cautiously, “Do you have enough salt blocks left to last?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded vigorously. “Enough, enough, really enough.” Worst case, I’ll head back to the coast tomorrow and boil some more salt to bring back.

Mang Er moved swiftly. He’d slept through the entire snow season, only trading salt once with the salt-trading team before winter set in, so he’d stockpiled a huge amount.

“Is this enough? If not, I have more.” He set down the twenty-odd salt blocks he’d been carrying in his arms. Seeing Zhang Shuguang’s wide-eyed astonishment, he chuckled, “I live alone and sleep a lot, so the salt just piles up. I dare say no one in the tribe has more salt blocks than me.”

He looked quite proud.

Zhang Shuguang’s temple twitched twice. Faced with such a large quantity of salt, he really couldn’t refuse.

After all, there was too much meat, and the hunting party wouldn’t be able to bring it back the same day. If this pig wasn’t processed quickly, it would likely spoil even more.

With that thought, he accepted Mang Er’s offer, saying only, “I’ll return the salt when Mang Jiu comes back.”

Once Mang Jiu returned, he could take Zhang Shuguang to the coast, where they could get as much salt as needed.

Mang Er waved it off casually. “The salt traders will be back soon. If I run low, I’ll just trade with them again.”

Ying Liu chimed in too, offering to swap more salt himself.

Truthfully, their eagerness had a motive. That perfectly seasoned fish had been delicious, and they hoped to curry favor with Zhang Shuguang—who knows, maybe they could score more treats later.

Zhang Shuguang paid no mind to their motives, merely staring at the beast on the ground with a frown.

He could easily wield a cleaver to chop ribs, but butchering an entire pig? That was a different story.

Besides, the tools he had on hand weren’t suitable.

Seeing him silently staring down at the hog beast, Mang Er asked, “What’s wrong?”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at him and gave a dry laugh. ”I don’t have a proper knife for cutting through bones.“

Meng Er exclaimed, ”I’ll get you one! Just tell me what kind you want.“

”Then I’ll treat you to a meal,“ Zhang Shuguang offered immediately, turning to Ying Liu. ”You’re invited too.”

“Huh?” Ying Liu was genuinely surprised. After all, in the tribe, few would share their own meat to treat others—this was actual meat!

Zhang Shuguang waved it off. He didn’t care about such formalities. Taking things for free or letting others do work for nothing was beneath him. Just a meal? It wasn’t much trouble.

He added more water to the stone pot. Instead of the potato, bamboo shoot, and fish soup he’d originally planned, he switched to stewing pork ribs with potatoes and bamboo shoots, plus another dish of stewed potatoes with meat.

Zhang Shuguang didn’t have bowls big enough to hold all this meat. He was puzzling over what to use when Ying Liu, standing nearby, suddenly said, “Hold on, I’ll fetch some bowls for you.”

Zhang Shuguang expected him to bring heavy stone bowls, but to his surprise, Ying Liu returned with seven large wooden bowls stacked together—each over a meter in diameter.

“Put it in these,” Ying Liu set the bowls down, then drew a stone knife from his waist and handed it over. “Mang Er, you cut off this hog beast’s head. Tear the body open down the middle—we’ll each take half and work fast.”

Zhang Shuguang was still puzzling over how exactly they’d tear it apart when Mang Er nodded. His stone knife swung down, severing the pig’s head. Grabbing a hind leg in each hand, he flexed his arms with a burst of muscle, and the sound of tearing flesh echoed—squeak, crack.

He watched in disbelief as the other man effortlessly split the 400-pound pig clean down the middle!

Swallowing hard, Zhang Shuguang’s gaze toward Mang Er shifted.

This guy is way too strong!

Mang Er tossed half the pig to Ying Liu, then asked Zhang Shuguang, ” Cut everything up?”

“Trim some meat off the ribs, cut the trotters separately, slice the four legs apart, and I’ll handle the rest.” He’d initially thought butchering a whole pig would be a hassle, but now he realized he’d underestimated the Beastmen’s strength.

Tearing apart the pig was as simple as breaking an apple.

Zhang Shuguang returned to the cave to fetch his bone knife and joined the meat-cutting crew.

He planned to keep one full rack of ribs for salt-curing and eat the other later.

As for the meat, he scooped all the belly fat into a basin. This fat would render plenty of oil, and the rendered cracklings could serve as snacks for the cubs.

The pig’s internal organs—commonly called offal—were all tossed into the basin for later cleaning.

As he sliced the meat, Zhang Shuguang frowned and asked, “Do all hog beasts taste like this?” The pungent, gamey smell hit him before he even took a bite.

“Yeah, males smell stronger. Females don’t seem to, but we usually don’t hunt females anyway,” Meng Er explained.

Ying Liu chopped the ribs into palm-sized chunks as Zhang Shuguang requested, adding, “We keep the females so they can keep having piglets.”

Zhang Shuguang understood. These were the original, uncastrated pigs—no wonder the taste was so strong.

But it didn’t matter. He had lemongrass and green lemons, ingredients that could mask the flavor.

Since the hog beast’s fur was long and coarse, Zhang Shuguang enlisted Mang Er’s help to strip off the entire hide. He then sliced the meat into palm-width strips.

“Just rub this meat with coarse salt later, then hang it in a well-ventilated spot to dry.”

Ying Liu nodded and asked, “Can all meat be preserved this way?”

“Yes, any meat cured with salt can be stored for a long time without spoiling. But it must be kept in a well-ventilated area, protected from moisture, and exposed to sunlight.” Zhang Shuguang brought over the three large chunks of meat for stewing, cutting them into finger-width pieces and placing them in a large basin.

The three worked for over an hour, dividing the entire pig into five bowls.

Zhang Shuguang remembered the long leg and had Ying Liu chop it into smaller pieces too, to be stewed with the ribs later.

The sun was about to set. Normally, by this hour, the tribe would be packing up to return to their caves. But today, with the meat distribution, everyone gathered together, chatting and laughing happily.

Zhang Shuguang dumped the ribs and thigh chunks into boiling water, then fetched a large handful of lemongrass from the cave and tossed it directly into the stone pot.

Mang Er and Ying Liu were startled. “You can eat this grass?”

“Not for eating. It removes the gamey smell,” he explained before returning to the cave for ten large potatoes, handing them over. “Help me peel these.”

Ying Liu borrowed Zhang Shuguang’s small bone knife and squatted nearby, diligently peeling the potatoes without complaint.

Mang Er had never seen potatoes before, but he asked questions. Zhang Shuguang gave him a brief explanation. Mang Er realized that in just this short time, he had been astonished several times.

Methods to preserve meat long-term! Potatoes to stockpile for surviving the snow season!

Though the giant python tribe could hibernate to conserve energy through the snow season, this only worked if they didn’t wake up mid-hibernation. If they did awaken, hunger would drive them to eat voraciously. Yet waking during hibernation left their bodies severely weakened. Feeding themselves sufficiently during the snow season, when beasts were scarce, was utterly impossible.

This leads to some Giant Serpent tribe members, left unattended during hibernation, hallucinating from hunger and transforming into beast form to devour themselves.

Starting from the tail.

When Mang Er hibernated in the cave, he didn’t sleep straight through until the ice melted. He awoke several times, yet each time the cave contained food—sometimes a giant deer, sometimes a giant boar beast, and on two occasions, a bleating beast.

Regardless of the source, food awaited him each time he opened his eyes. Though the carcasses lay untouched for unknown durations, the starving python cared not for freshness—only satiation mattered.

He knew only his younger brother would occasionally deliver sustenance, fearing his elder sibling might perish from hunger.

Their mother had starved to death, consumed by hunger until she devoured her own remains.

As for their father—well, they weren’t sired by the same man. Neither knew where their father was; they’d barely seen him since birth.

Recalling his brother’s care during hibernation, Mang Er found himself growing increasingly fond of the Sub-Beastman residing in their cave.

“If only we had another stone pot,” Zhang Shuguang mused, glancing at the steaming pot before him and then at the empty stove beside it.

Cooking in two pots simultaneously would speed things up considerably; otherwise, dinner might not be ready until midnight.

“Stone pot?” Mang Er pointed at the one simmering ribs. “One this big?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Yes. I’d put it over here to cook meat. I also want to render some oil from these fatty cuts.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Xiong Kui’s voice called from behind him, “Shuguang, look at this!”

Zhang Shuguang turned to see Xiong Kui holding a large stone pot, his eyes lighting up with delight.

It was as if his wish had come true!

“Chief, how did you think to bring me a stone pot?” He watched Xiong Kui set the pot on the empty stove platform beside them, his smile stretching wide.

After carrying Zhang Shuguang back, Xiong Kui went straight to the large cave with the Shaman. The two had been whispering to each other, so they hadn’t been present during the meat distribution. Their family’s portion had been collected by Hua.

It was only after hearing Hua mention that Shuguang was missing a stone pot that Xiong Kui specifically dug this one out to bring as a gift.

After all, since he didn’t want the title of Divine Child, a pot was a small token of gratitude.

Xiong Kui said little, merely pointing at the pot: “See if it’s okay. If not, I’ll fix it up for you.”

Zhang Shuguang ran his hand over the pot’s bottom. Xiong Kui’s carving was smooth and even. He nodded with a smile. “It’s perfect. I’ll have Sister Hua bring a bowl of meat back later. I’ll try a new recipe today.”

Xiong Kui chuckled in agreement. “Li’s back too. I’ll have him haul the wood up for you shortly. If you need anything else, just ask. We’re family here—no need to be formal.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself: Does this mean I’ve gained a powerful ally through the salt-boiling method?

But then he remembered his own long-absent roommate—he was a powerful ally too.

“Alright, I’ll definitely ask if I need anything.” He rinsed the stone pot with water, then lit some dry grass and twigs.

Xiong Kui watched him with affectionate eyes. Seeing him busy, he didn’t disturb him. Turning his gaze to Meng Er, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, he glared at him. “You still know how to get up! Why didn’t you just sleep it off?”

Meng Er chuckled, scratching his nose. “I was just tired. It’s instinct. Pure instinct.”

“You’re just lazy! Look at everyone else—they don’t sleep through the entire snow season as you do! If Mang Jiu hadn’t been bringing you wild game to the cave, you’d have starved to death long ago!” Xiong Kui scolded, exasperated.

Beastmen residing in the highest-tier caves were never weak, and Mang Er, living in a fourth-tier cave, was no exception.

His only flaw was his insatiable need for sleep, always looking like he’d never fully woken up.

Spring drowsiness, summer lethargy, autumn naps, winter hibernation—it described him perfectly.

After shedding his skin three times, he still hadn’t found a Sub-Beastman to mate with. Wasn’t it because they found him too lazy?

Across the entire tribe, these two brothers were the most unusual.

One spent his days sleeping, eating, sleeping, occasionally joining the hunting party for a round, but the rest of the time was just sleep, sleep, sleep.

The other walks around with a perpetual scowl, as if everyone owes him three giant boar beasts. He treats everyone with that same icy demeanor. Luckily, he found a Sub-Beastman who doesn’t mind his attitude; otherwise, he’d still be flying solo.

Xiong Kui forgot that plenty of Sub-Beastmen and female Beastmen fancied Mang Jiu. Now he saw Zhang Shuguang through rose-colored glasses ten meters thick—he was perfect in every way. In his mind, Shuguang taking a fancy to Mang Jiu was pure luck for the latter!

Ying Liu chuckled quietly beside him, earning a swift kick from Xiong Kui. “What are you laughing at? And you! Do you know your mom’s been pestering me daily, saying you’re old enough to have kids already!”

Zhang Shuguang struggled to stifle his laughter. It seemed that no matter the era or world, pressure to marry and have children was universal.

“Second Brother, fill that empty basin with water. I need to wash the meat.” Seeing Mang Er, who had been nagged by Xiong Kui until his face looked utterly miserable, he spoke up to break the tension. Then he turned to Ying Liu: “Brother Ying Liu, help me find some more dry branches and wood. We need plenty for stewing meat later.”

Hearing this, the two immediately got to work, moving swiftly without the slightest delay.

Xiong Kui snorted, then grinned at Zhang Shuguang. “I asked around—Mang Jiu ate too much and can’t shift back to human form, so he hasn’t returned.”

Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched violently. How starved must he be to go out and stuff himself senseless?

The ultimate foodie, no doubt.

“Xiong Kui! Hurry back! Don’t keep Shuguang waiting while he cooks!” Hua called out from inside the cave, unable to bear Xiong Kui’s dawdling any longer.

Xiong Kui grunted in response. Zhang Shuguang added, “Don’t forget to give the pearls to Sister Hua.”

Xiong Kui’s smile, which had briefly faded after Hua’s shout, returned. He took out the pearl, rubbed it between his fingers, and chuckled.

Right, give her the pearl. Then we’ll have another litter of cubs!

Mang Er carried the wooden basin filled with water back. Zhang Shuguang placed the sliced, white, fatty meat into the basin, rinsed it, then scooped it all out and placed it into the stone pot Xiong Kui had just brought.

“This stuff isn’t even tasty. Why keep it?” Mang Er stood nearby, not quite grasping his meaning.

Zhang Shuguang bent down to add some dry branches, stoking the fire. Hearing this, he replied, “This fatty meat can be simmered down into oil. Put the half-cooked meat and salt into the oil, and it’ll keep for a while.”

Mang Er shook his head, still confused.

Zhang Shuguang stirred the pot of simmering ribs with a stone ladle, scooping out the bones and placing them in an empty basin nearby.

“Ready to eat?” Mang Er reached out to grab some. Zhang Shuguang startled, quickly stopping him. “Not yet. It’s still early. If you’re hungry, Second Brother, you can nibble on another salted fish.”

Meng Er waved his hand. “No need. You should save those few fish. There wouldn’t even be enough for Mang Jiu to eat one meal when he comes back.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. Yes, his roommate had a huge appetite.

“I heard Mang Jiu picked you up?” Mang Er, with nothing else to do, picked up a stone and sat by the stove, occasionally tossing in a few more branches. “My little brother… he’s got a cold temper, but his heart’s in the right place.”

Zhang Shuguang scooped all the water from the pot with a stone ladle and poured it out, humming in acknowledgment. “He saved me. He takes good care of me.”

Whenever he heard the word “picked up,” Mang Jiu’s declaration immediately came to mind.

What I pick up is mine.

A shiver ran through his body. Zhang Shuguang, still shaken, explained, “Mang Jiu and I aren’t what you think we are. Really, it’s pure.”

“What do you mean by ‘pure’? Don’t you live in the same cave?” Mang Er looked puzzled.

Zhang Shuguang stammered, “Ah… yes, we do live in the same cave, but…”

“Living in the same cave means you’re together! That’s how it is in the tribe,” Mang Er cut him off. “Don’t let my brother’s cold exterior fool you—he’s got a warm heart! He’ll make sure you’re well-fed, never going hungry.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed. Fine, it was impossible to explain clearly unless he moved out of Mang Jiu’s cave and completely cut ties.

The problem was that Mang Jiu had saved his life. He didn’t want to make the other feel uncomfortable by cutting ties like this.

Even if their relationship was a bit messy and hard to explain, he instinctively didn’t want to hurt him.

Zhang Shuguang was conflicted. He was grateful to Mang Jiu, his savior, but at the same time, he felt a little puzzled.

He wasn’t the first person Mang Jiu had rescued, so it couldn’t be that he wanted something new by keeping him around.

He wasn’t exceptionally handsome or beautiful either—at best, he was a sunny young man—so it couldn’t be that Mang Jiu was keeping him for his looks.

He was skinny as a rail, clearly incapable of heavy labor and obviously needing someone to support him. So it couldn’t be that he was being kept as a servant or maid.

Then why would Mang Jiu keep him? Why would he agree to let him live in this cave?

Zhang Shuguang admitted he didn’t know why. To him, being alive was enough. Reasons? They didn’t matter!