Li led the way, but he didn’t walk properly; instead, he skipped and hopped along, his bare feet treading on a path covered in mud and small pebbles, yet he didn’t seem to feel any discomfort.

Zhang Shuguang winced just watching him. Thinking about how he planned to make a few extra pairs of straw sandals to rotate through, he asked, “Li, do you want to learn how to weave straw sandals from me?”

Li turned around and looked at the shoes on his feet. Although they were quite nice, he didn’t think they served much purpose.

He could go anywhere barefoot; he didn’t need to wear these odd-looking shoes.

Seeing him pout and shake his head, Zhang Shuguang was taken aback.

“Are you still that young man who used to stick his nose into everything—even when I was just turning over the soil—and who was so competitive about everything?”

A-Si spoke up from the side: “I want to learn.”

Li turned to look at him. “You want to wear shoes, too?”

A-Si nodded. Seeing both of them staring at him, he smiled slightly. “My tribe lives along a coast strewn with sharp gravel. When I was little, walking on these surfaces would leave my feet covered in blood.” He lifted his leg to show them the jagged wounds on the soles of his feet. “It got a little better after I grew up and my feet toughened up.”

“A little better” didn’t mean he wouldn’t get hurt, so he was genuinely interested in the straw sandals.

Zhang Shuguang said, “That’s right. Wearing shoes protects the soles of your feet, and during the snowy season, you can wrap leather around the soles to make warm boots, so you won’t have to worry about cold feet.”

Li saw how earnestly they were both speaking and slowly nodded. “Alright, then I’ll learn from you too.”

Zhang Shuguang shot him a look. “Don’t act like I’m forcing you. If you’re this reluctant, don’t learn.”

Li grinned and leaned in close, grabbing his arm and shaking it playfully. “My bad! I’ll learn. When the time comes, make a pair for my mom. She actually mentioned the other day that her feet hurt when she walks.”

Zhang Shuguang suspected that Ying’s complaint of foot discomfort might not be due to pebbles digging into the soles of her feet, but rather discomfort caused by deformed foot bones.

He sighed softly. In this primitive, mutant world, just staying alive was a feat in itself—who had time to worry about minor aches and pains? Even if he mentioned it, Ying probably wouldn’t care.

The three walked for a while—about five minutes—before they came upon a deep pit. As they drew closer, they could faintly smell an odor, though it wasn’t overpowering. Even the restrooms at gas stations in modern society, sprayed with all kinds of air fresheners, smelled much stronger than this.

“What kind of grass is covering this?”

Li shook his head. Usually, when they wanted to cover up feces, they’d just pull up some grass, toss it in, and bury it. As for what it was actually called, he had no idea.

A-Si replied, “I don’t know what the people of the Cliff Shore Tribe call it, but in our tribe, we all call it Fragrant Grass.”

Zhang Shuguang raised his hand in a thumbs-up. “Alright then, covering the stink with Fragrant Grass—that’s a good idea.”

“Is it a common plant?” He turned his head to look around. The yellowish-green, half-dry grass on the ground had been cut down quite a bit; clearly, this was the Fragrant Grass.

“Usually, every tribe looks for areas where Fragrant Grass grows in large patches, then digs pits to bury it,” he said, pointing to the pit. “During the rainy season, when there are a lot of bugs, you can also light the Fragrant Grass on fire to smoke them out.”

“Right, and it smells really good. The ash from burning it can also be used to wash your hair.” Li raised a finger and pointed at his own short, messy black hair, “I use this to wash mine.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. He’d learned something new and planned to look into it later.

After walking for about another five minutes, they arrived at the ditch A-Si had mentioned. It wasn’t deep, and the water inside was murky—nothing like the clear stream they’d seen earlier. Zhang Shuguang certainly wouldn’t dare drink from it directly, but using it to water the fields was perfectly fine.

The murkiness was likely caused by silt at the bottom, but there was no foul odor.

To be on the safe side, he turned to ask A Si, “Have you seen any animals coming here to drink?”

A-Si nodded toward his back, gesturing for him to look for himself.

Zhang Shuguang turned and saw, on the opposite bank of the narrow ditch about ten meters away, two… “ducks?”

The two ducks flapped their wings and entered the ditch, swimming freely back and forth, occasionally diving underwater to catch a small fish.

Li: “What’s a duck? We call it a flat-billed beast.”

Zhang Shuguang stared at the creature with its flat, orange-red beak, dark brown plumage, and webbed feet. In both appearance and size, it was identical to Earth’s ducks—it hadn’t been enlarged at all.

“I call it a duck,” he said. As for what kind of duck it was, he didn’t know—but anything that looked like that had to be a duck.

Besides, Zhang Shuguang had long since stopped bothering to comment on the names Li and the others came up with. He looked at Li. “Are there a lot of these ducks around here?”

Li nodded. “Plenty. They’re too small and don’t have much meat, so we don’t really like eating them.”

A-Si nodded as well. “They aren’t very tasty.”

Zhang Shuguang was used to their country bumpkin remarks by now. The moment he saw the duck, a string of names automatically popped into his head.

Spicy duck necks, spicy duck wings, spicy duck feet, spicy duck intestines—every kind of duck delicacy imaginable. Basically, every part of the duck could be turned into a braised dish.

Just thinking about it made his mouth water.

Just as he was about to ask where the flock of ducks was, he heard a chorus of “quack, quack, quack” coming from the distance. Moments later, he saw a swarm of ducks flapping their wings, flying low, and splashing into the ditch with a series of thuds.

Zhang Shuguang’s expression was as if he’d seen a variety of duck delicacies jumping into a brine pot—he was practically drooling.

“I’m going to catch them!”

His shout was like a thunderclap, startling the two men beside him so much they shuddered violently.

“Why do you want to catch them?” Li picked at his ear, nearly getting a ringing in his ears from the shock.

Unable to contain his excitement, Zhang Shuguang waved his hands, urging them to help. “If I catch them, I’ll roast some duck for you guys—it’ll be super tasty!”

Li was a big fan of Zhang’s cooking skills, so upon hearing this, he didn’t hesitate: he yanked off his leather skirt and jumped into the ditch.

Seeing that Li had gone in, A-Si shouted, “Just grab them and toss them up here— I’ll wring its neck.”

Zhang Shuguang took off his straw sandals and put them in his bag, then plopped into the water with a splash. He couldn’t bring himself to go in bare-bottomed like Li, so he didn’t mind getting his fur clothes wet—he’d just find a sunny spot to dry them later.

The icy water, reaching up to his knees, sent a shiver through him, but it couldn’t dampen his enthusiasm.

The two of them split up to surround the flock, flinging any duck they caught onto the bank.

There were at least a hundred ducks in the flock. They likely rarely encountered hunters as brazen as these two, so they were momentarily startled. By the time they realized they needed to flee, many had already been caught.

A-Si ran back and forth along the shore, picking up the ducks. Whenever he found one, he quickly snapped its neck to prevent it from recovering and escaping.

The two men in the ditch were soaked to the skin, while A-Si, picking up ducks on the shore, was drenched in sweat.

Zhang Shuguang glanced back and said to Li Dao, “That’s enough. No need to catch any more.”

A-Si let out a breath, reached out to pull them ashore, and looked at the pile of dead ducks at his feet, asking him, “We won’t be able to eat all of these, will we?”

“No problem. We’ll salt them, let them air-dry, and eat them later.” Zhang Shuguang took off his leather vest, shook it out, and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll go find some spices later. I’ll roast a few for you to try. Don’t let their small size fool you—they’ve got plenty of meat.”

Li was hopping around nearby, shaking the water off. Hearing this, he laughed heartily and said, “You’ve gotta give me at least three. I worked really hard catching them just now.”

“Alright, I’ll give you three,” Zhang Shuguang bent down and picked up the dead ducks. He hadn’t felt their weight while catching them earlier, but now that he was holding them, he realized these ducks were actually quite plump—each one weighed at least six or seven jin.

Where there are ducks, there must be duck eggs. Zhang Shuguang looked around and noticed that the grass here was shorter than the patch at the foot of the mountain near the tribe—perfect for ducks to breed and thrive.

“Nai Dou!” he called out.

Not far away, Nai Dou was climbing up and down a tree. His ears perked up at the sound of his father’s voice. He immediately jumped down from the tree and ran as fast as he could toward the source of the call.

Zhang Shuguang called out to Nai Dou twice, and the little kitten appeared at his side, darting forward to hook his leather skirt with its paws.

“Meow?”

Zhang Shuguang picked him up and tapped his little nose. “Why are you running around? Go help Daddy see if there are any eggs over there.”

Nai Dou tilted its head. Huh?

Zhang Shuguang pressed on. He was sure that with his little one’s smarts, he would definitely be able to find the eggs for him!

“Eggs. Round ones.”

Nai Dou was set down on the ground, still a bit dazed, then darted off and vanished into the grass. A moment later, the meowing of a kitten drifted over.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled—it actually worked! He’d really just been taking a chance.

“Come on, let’s go take a look,” he called out.

A-Si glanced at the dozen or so dead ducks on the ground and said helplessly, “If we leave them here, other wild animals will carry them off.”

Zhang Shuguang froze. “Aren’t there supposed to be no big wild beasts on the back mountain?”

“There are definitely some bigger than ducks,” A-Si said, speechless. How clueless could he be, thinking that once he’d killed them, he could just leave them there and they wouldn’t disappear? “Take them all with us, or they’ll be gone by the time we get back.”

Zhang Shuguang gave a noncommittal “Oh” and obediently went back to carry the dead ducks.

There were seventeen dead ducks in total, each weighing about six or seven jin. The three of them divided them up: each person packed five into their bags, and Zhang Shuguang stuffed the remaining two into his own backpack.

“Later, you guys roast them the way I do. I guarantee they’ll be so good you’ll want to come back tomorrow to catch more ducks.”

He didn’t plan to cook the roast duck for the three of them himself; teaching them to do it themselves would make it taste even better.

Li and A-Si didn’t object. They slung their bags over their shoulders and followed him toward the direction of Nai Dou’s voice.

Nai Dou was crouched on the grass, its little paws gently prodding a palm-sized red bird on the ground.

The little bird was entirely red, without a single feather of any other color; only its tiny, pointed beak was golden yellow. Its eyes were closed, and its little chest rose and fell slightly.

It’s still alive.

Nai Dou pressed his little paw against the red bird’s wing, but Zhang Shuguang stopped him.

“You can’t eat this, even if you’re hungry.”

A-Si’s mouth twitched, and he said speechlessly, “That’s a young Phoenix.”

“Huh?” Not just Zhang Shuguang, but even Li looked at him in surprise. The two of them said in unison, “A bird-person?”

Zhang Shuguang looked at Li. “You’ve never seen one before?”

“No, I was just guessing. Besides, the chicks of the Giant Eagle Clan in our tribe are bigger than this one right out of the egg. I thought it was just a wild bird.”

A-Si explained, “There are very few members of the Phoenix Bird Tribe, and they’re a nomadic tribe with no fixed settlement.”

Zhang Shuguang quickly picked up the little red bird from the ground and examined it closely, discovering that its right wing appeared to be broken.

He was a bit worried. What was he supposed to do?

He couldn’t exactly pluck all its feathers just to put a splint on it!

“What should I do?” He looked at A-Si. “You’ve seen a lot of things—any ideas?”

A-Si was also at a loss. He was just a guest staying with the Cliff Shore Tribe; bringing back a young bird from another tribe wasn’t something he could easily care for.

Seeing that A-Si wasn’t responding, Zhang Shuguang asked again, “If I want to raise it, will that cause any trouble?”

A-Si froze, realizing he’d probably misunderstood the question earlier. Scratching his head, he said, “It shouldn’t be that much trouble. It probably fell from the sky during migration. Since there aren’t any Phoenix Clan people around looking for it, it must have been abandoned.”

Zhang Shuguang furrowed his brow, glancing at Nai Dou, who was tilting his fluffy head and looking at him with pleading eyes, then at the little red bird in his hand.

Both had lost their parents—one had been surviving in the wild when he was found it, and the other had been abandoned and then found by Nai Dou.

Quite a coincidence.

“Then let’s take him back. We need to treat his injury first.” He looked around, found two small sticks, pulled a few blades of grass, and then used the sticks to clamp and wrap the little red bird’s right wing with the grass to keep it still.

“What are you doing?” A-Si couldn’t help but ask.

“Its wing is broken. If we don’t secure it, the bone will heal crooked. This way, it stays still and doesn’t move around. If a Beastman or Sub-Beastman ever breaks a bone, you can do the same.” Zhang Shuguang cradled the little red bird carefully and looked at the two of them. “What should we do? Should we head back first?”

They had originally planned to go to the bamboo grove to dig for bamboo shoots, but it seemed that wouldn’t be possible now. At the very least, they had to get the little red bird settled first, to prevent it from flapping about wildly and injuring itself further once it woke up.

Li and A-Si didn’t object to his suggestion. The three of them gave up looking for the duck egg; the most important thing now was to bring the little red bird back to the tribe.

“I think it might have internal injuries,” Zhang Shuguang said, cradling the little red bird in both hands while carrying Nai Dou on his shoulder. “Is there anyone in the tribe who knows how to treat injuries?”

“Yes, Ying Cao knows how to use herbs. Let’s go straight to him,” Li said.

The three hurried back to the tribe and headed straight for Ying Cao’s cave.

In a valley far from the Cliff Shore Tribe, members of the hunting party led by Mang Jiu were conducting their final hunt of the day. The game they had caught had attracted a terror bird.

This terror bird stood over thirty meters tall, its body covered in scales and its mouth filled with sharp teeth. Its long neck was covered in thick, brownish-black fur, and a thick, hairless tail rested on the ground, ending in a sharp spike. Most strangely, a single wing protruded from its back. The wing was devoid of feathers, instead consisting of a skeletal frame encased in membrane, giving it an exceptionally ferocious appearance.

Such massive carnivorous beasts rarely appear; the hunting party likely drew it out by entering the vicinity of its nest.

If Zhang Shuguang had seen this terror bird, he would certainly have dissected it.

An evolved hybrid of an alligator, a camel, and a bat—ugly beyond belief.

It let out an angry roar, startling countless birds into flight.

“It stinks!” Xiong Bai got a faceful of spit from the front; the stench nearly made him vomit.

Xiong Hong snapped, “Stay back! Don’t you want to live?”

Even though they had transformed into massive beast forms, they still looked puny compared to the colossal terror bird.

Lang Qing hadn’t shifted into his beast form. He watched the terror bird’s every move nervously and asked, “What should we do?”

“Leave the prey to it—let’s get out of here!” Mang Yue remained in human form as well; maintaining beast form required a massive amount of stamina. While it worked fine for their usual hunts, in a life-or-death situation like this, beast form actually became a liability.

His suggestion was accepted by the group, but unfortunately, this terror bird clearly had no intention of letting these fellow carnivorous hunters escape.

Mang Jiu’s thick, serpentine body slowly slithered across the ground, silently closing in on the terror bird. He spoke in a cold tone: “The Giant Bear Clan attacks the right front leg, the Giant Rhinoceros Clan the right hind leg, the Giant Python Clan wraps its serpent form around the left hind legs, the Giant Eagle Clan attacks its eyes, and the Giant Wolf Clan bites the tail. Take it down! Charge!”

The group received the orders, transformed, and pounced on their target.

The Terror Bird was simply too massive; after being attacked, it roared furiously at the sky, its massive tail lashing wildly, and its foul-smelling, gaping maw snapped at Xiong Bai, who was closest to it.

Mang Jiu raised his long tail and lashed out. With a thud, the terror bird’s head was knocked off course.

Xiong Bai broke out in a cold sweat and opened his massive jaws, biting down with all his might on the thick right leg before him.

Mang Jiu held his massive serpentine head high, keeping a constant watch on the battlefield. Whenever the terror bird made a move to lower its head to bite, he would lash out with his tail with all his might.

Once, twice, three, four times—the terror bird roared in fury as it was lashed by him.

At first, the counterattack from this colossal beast disrupted the coordination of the other giant beasts, but later, thanks to Mang Jiu’s control of the situation, the remaining Beastmen found their rhythm.

“You bite the front legs, I’ll bite the back legs; if we can’t reach the head, we’ll bite the tail.” Bite after bite, each one drawing blood.

The assault lasted about half an hour before the terror bird crashed to the ground.

Mang Jiu knew this was his chance to strike while the beast was down. His massive serpentine body shot into the air, swiftly coiling around the terror bird’s body, then tightening the coils one by one.

The terror bird rolled and thrashed, twisting its neck to bite him.

Mang Jiu showed no fear, exerting all his strength.

Muffled sounds of creaking and cracking echoed—the sound of the terror bird’s bones being crushed.

Two Beastmen from the Giant Eagle Clan dove in from high and low, their claws and beaks covered in blood; the terror bird’s skull had been nearly torn open by them.

With their combined efforts, the terror bird finally died, its body lying limp on the ground.

Mang Jiu slowly relaxed his body and swam over to the side, his abdomen convulsing violently. After a moment, he regurgitated two intact hides of a male giant boar beast, along with several large bones.

The rest had been completely digested.

Mang Qi transformed back into human form, wiped the blood from his face, and teased him, “Is that what you call a post-meal workout?”

Mang Jiu said nothing, but also shifted back into human form.

He bent down, casually tore the hides on the ground, and wrapped them around his waist like a skirt. “Drag them all away. Let’s head back.”

Cheers and beastly roars echoed through the air. Aside from the members of the Giant Python Clan, the other Beastmen remained in their giant beast forms; they would have to drag the prey back.

Mang Yue and Lang Qing found plenty of vines to tie up the prey. Mang Qi once again slinked over to Mang Jiu’s side and asked him, “Did you hear what Xiong Hui said? Mang Er has woken up. He helped your Sub-Beastman carry the young hog beast back to the cave.”

Mang Jiu glanced at him. “Mm.”

Mangqi, never one to shy away from stirring up trouble, pressed on: “Aren’t you worried?”

“Worried about what?” Mang Jiu walked over to the terror bird’s tail, pulled out the sharp spike, and waved it in his hand. “You talk too much.” ”

Mang Qiu’s face twitched as he glared at him: “I’m just worried your Sub-Beastman will get snatched away by Mang Er!”

Mang Jiu: “They won’t.” Shuguang won’t, and Mang Er certainly won’t.

Mang Qiu: “Hmph, you really are carefree.” He was particularly jealous of Mang Er. That lazy bum was just Mang Jiu’s half-brother, wasn’t he? Because of that, Mang Jiu looked after him constantly, especially during the snow season. Even the food they’d worked so hard to find, Mang Jiu would set aside a portion for Mang Er to help him hibernate, afraid he might starve to death.

Mang Jiu didn’t want to hear any of this. He raised his hand and gestured for the Beastmen to quickly drag all the captured prey and set off back to the tribe.

At the Cliff Shore Tribe, Zhang Shuguang watched nervously as Ying Cao squeezed some dark green liquid from the bird’s beak and poured it directly into its mouth—a particularly rough maneuver.

The little kitten on his shoulder also widened its eyes; by now, it had realized that the creature it had found was a cub just like itself.

“Meow~” it called softly.

Zhang Shuguang tilted his head and rubbed his cheek against the little one’s fluffy body, pointing at the little red bird and saying, “He’ll be your little brother from now on.”

Ying Cao looked up and corrected him, “This one only lays eggs.”

Zhang Shuguang quickly amended himself, “She’s your little sister.”

Nai Dou: “Meow?”

Ying Cao looked at Zhang Shuguang with amusement. “You’re going to raise it?”

“Yeah, why can’t I?” Zhang Shuguang thought the question was completely unnecessary.

Ying Cao shook his head. He was a gentle middle-aged man, the only Beastman in the tribe who knew how to prepare herbal remedies and identify various medicinal plants.

“Will Mang Jiu agree?” he simply asked in return.

Zhang Shuguang hummed in acknowledgment. Right—he already had a kitten. If he added a baby bird to the mix, what if Mang Jiu came back, saw how lively the cave had become, and got so angry he kicked them all out?

If they were kicked out of the cave, he’d have no choice but to take the two little ones and find a cave of his own.

The thought flashed through his mind, and he frowned, feeling a twinge of unease.

Although he hadn’t spent much time with Mang Jiu, perhaps due to a bit of a “mother hen” complex, he relied on and trusted Mang Jiu ninety percent of the time, always feeling that the other wasn’t the type to refuse a request.

His roommate might seem cold on the surface, but he seemed to have a warm heart deep down—otherwise, how could he explain why Mang Jiu had left him in the cave?

He could try talking it over with Mang Jiu to see what he thought.

“He’ll definitely agree. Mang Jiu already let Shuguang raise Nai Dou, so he wouldn’t refuse one more little one.” These words came from Li, standing nearby, his tone confident.

Ying Cao chuckled softly and didn’t pursue the matter further. Instead, he said to Zhang Shuguang, “She fell from a great height. I’ve given her some medicine; let’s see if she wakes up before sunset. If she does, she’ll be fine.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Thank you.”

Ying Cao ran his finger along the undamaged wing of the little red bird. “It’s still just a baby. To have suffered so much.”

Zhang Shuguang also felt sorry for the little red bird. It had fallen from the sky, yet no family had come looking for it. If it woke up, it would surely be heartbroken.

Carrying the little red bird back to the cave, he made a nest for it out of a large seashell, then said to Nai Dou, “Daddy has to go out again. You stay home and watch over your little sister. If she wakes up, you mustn’t let her move around, okay?”

Nai Dou’s golden eyes were filled with confusion. Huh? Daddy, what did you say? I don’t understand.

Zhang Shuguang tapped his forehead. He must have been out of his mind to ask Nai Dou to look after the little red bird—after all, he was just a kid who couldn’t even understand what was being said.

Seeing his dilemma, Li suggested, “Why not leave it with my mom for now? She didn’t go out today, so having her watch over them shouldn’t be a problem.”

Zhang Shuguang was tempted, but he was also worried about causing trouble for others.

“Would that be too much trouble?”

“No problem. Just catch a couple more sweetfish for my mom,” Li said with a grin.

After delivering the little red bird to Ying, Zhang Shuguang explained the situation and repeatedly assured her he’d return as soon as possible.

Ying smiled gently at him and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve taken care of so many little ones; I won’t let her down.” She was one of the few sub-beastmen in the tribe who kept her own children by her side to raise them.

Seeing Li standing nearby, Zhang Shuguang knew Ying was skilled at raising children, so he said no more, merely making a mental note to catch a few extra sweetfish for Ying as a token of gratitude.

The trio set off again. Before leaving, they placed all the dead ducks from their bags inside Mang Jiu’s cave—simply because it was safer there than anywhere else.

Nai Dou didn’t come along this time; his mind was completely occupied with the little red bird, and he was curled up sleeping right beside it.

“Let’s head to the shallow pool first,” Zhang Shuguang suggested. If they dug up the potatoes first before heading there, they’d slow down considerably. Besides, since they needed to go into the bamboo grove to dig for bamboo shoots, it was better to do it while it was still light out. If they couldn’t see clearly, the shoots buried in the soil would be easy to snap off; digging potatoes, however, wasn’t a problem—they could do that even in the dim light.

The other two naturally nodded in agreement and followed him to the shallow pool.

Far away, on the eastern edge of the continent, in the Wanshan Tribe, the chieftain was currently sitting in Aila’s cave, smiling so broadly his face was creased with wrinkles.

The Wanshan Tribe numbered fewer than fifty people at most—a truly small tribe. Only the chieftain’s children had inherited the Beastman bloodline, but unfortunately, their way of life could not guarantee a full meal every day, so they had only managed to raise a dozen or so Beastmen.

The chieftain was merely an ordinary Black Rhinoceros Clan Beastman, not as massive and formidable as those of the Giant Rhinoceros Clan. They had to go out hunting every day to ensure food for the entire tribe, and if they encountered a powerful beast, casualties were inevitable.

However, all of this began to change starting with this snow season. A Sub-Beastman named Aila from the tribe unexpectedly gained the favor of the Beastman God and received divine power!

He could cultivate edible wild plants during the cold, snowy season; even if they didn’t taste great, they ensured the tribe wouldn’t starve to death.

The snowy season had only just passed, and the ice and snow outside the Wanshan Tribe hadn’t completely melted yet. The chieftain had come to see Aila this time to ask him to go out with the foraging team to gather some food seeds to plant.

Aila nodded slightly in agreement but said nothing.

During this time, even though the tribe regarded him as the Son of the Gods, he could not forget the cold, lifeless body he had pushed off the cliff.

He stared intently at his right hand—it was this very hand that had emitted a soft, warm white light and killed his childhood companion. He would never forget the shock on Shuguang’s face, nor the way the color drained from his cheeks.

Aila shuddered violently; he hadn’t even noticed when the chief had left.

This isn’t right! Why on earth did it come to this!

He clutched his head and gasped for breath, panic spreading through his heart.

You did the right thing. A worthless Sub-Beastman died, but you saved many more of our people!

A voice rang out in his mind, and Aila froze for a moment.

No, no, no, I didn’t mean to kill him!

You’re right. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Who are you? Where are you?

You can bring a better life to the tribe. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Aila stared blankly at his right hand. Right, I didn’t do anything wrong. I saved a lot of lives.

No more voices echoed in his mind, as if everything that had just happened was nothing more than a hallucination he had conjured up.

A white light flared from his right hand. Aila clutched the white long-eared beast he had raised for quite some time; its soft, warm body gradually lost its warmth in her arms.

Aila gently pressed his lips together, tossed the beast’s corpse aside, and stepped out of the cave.

He was going to find seeds; he had to feed his tribe and keep them alive.

By the shallow pool, Zhang Shuguang sneezed. He rubbed his nose and dipped his hand in the water to test the temperature—it was refreshingly cool.

Even so, he stripped off his leather shorts and jumped in.

He’d rather freeze to death than go without a bath—he simply couldn’t stand it anymore.

Li and A-Si saw him jump into the water to bathe. After exchanging a glance, they too shed their leather skirts and waded in. The three of them soaked in the icy water, exhaling in unison.

“Let’s catch some fish! Let’s see who can catch the most,” Li suggested, unable to sit still. “Moving around will make the cold feel less intense.”

Zhang Shuguang and A-Si nodded. “Alright.”

While catching fish, Zhang Shuguang had Xiao Cai bring out the lotus seeds. He slowly moved through the pond, casually tossing the seeds into the water, completely unconcerned whether they would ever sprout.

Xiao Cai notified him that the task was complete, so he put the remaining seeds away.

Xiao Cai: “Master, there are a large number of edible plants above the waterfall in front of you.”

Zhang Shuguang froze for a moment, suddenly remembering that Xiao Cai had previously mentioned there were plants by the ditch. But because he’d seen the ducks and found the little red bird, he’d completely forgotten about it.

“I didn’t find the plants the navigation system suggested earlier. Does that mean you won’t deduct my power?”

Xiao Cai: “…Master, even if you didn’t find them, I still provided the service.”

Zhang Shuguang: “I didn’t ask you to provide it—you navigated there on your own. If I’d found the plants and you’d deducted power, I’d accept it. But if you’re deducting power when I didn’t even look for them, I’m definitely going to file a complaint about you overcharging.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, that’s not right.”

Zhang Shuguang: “What’s wrong with that? Where did I go wrong? Spit it out so we can debate it.”

Zhang Shuguang: “And that 6% battery drain you charged me for standby mode this morning—that’s also an arbitrary charge!”

Xiao Cai: “……????”

Zhang Shuguang: “Didn’t you say before that my device naturally consumes 8% of battery power when it’s on and 3% when it’s off? So this 6% for being in standby all night—which I didn’t use—is an extra charge. When you settle the bill at sunset today, are you going to deduct a full day’s worth of natural consumption again?

Is your natural consumption calculation based on my waking hours? There are 24 hours in a day—how can you just add extra power consumption?”

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “What’s the matter? Am I wrong?”

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “If you don’t say anything, I’m going to file a complaint against you.”

Xiao Cai: “Right, you’re absolutely right. I can report the power consumption as a bug, but the navigation system’s power consumption can’t be—that’s a mandatory deduction.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Then turn off the navigation system. I don’t need it.”

Xiao Cai: “You can’t disable the automatic navigation system.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Do you know that’s called forced selling? I’m going to file a complaint!”

Xiao Cai suddenly felt that, as an app system, life was exhausting.

What do I do when I can’t argue with a host who’s all talk? Waiting online, very anxious!

Zhang Shuguang: “Why aren’t you saying anything again? Did you freeze up?”

Xiao Cai: “Master, please don’t be so hard on me.”

Zhang Shuguang snorted lightly, his tone merciful: “Do you know you’re wrong?”

Xiao Cai: “I know, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Since you know you’re wrong, I’ll generously forgive you. Next time, don’t turn on the navigation without my request—that thing drains the battery, do you understand! ”

Xiao Cai: “……Okay, Master, I understand. But the navigation system isn’t under my control—it pops up automatically every time.”

At that moment, Xiao Cai felt like a little cabbage, desperately wanting to burst into song.

Little cabbage~~~ Leaves turning yellow~~~ Meeting my master~~~ Tears streaming down~~~

Zhang Shuguang: “Aren’t you going to report this bug? It’s such an obvious system flaw—if you don’t report it, what are you waiting for to get compensated?!”

Xiao Cai: “……” That move of yours was seriously bold.

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master. I understand, Master. Please go take a bath, Master. I’ll go report the bug, Master.”

Then, Xiao Cai vanished on its own and didn’t reappear before the end-of-day settlement.

Zhang Shuguang smiled triumphantly. He’d always suspected this navigation system was a rip-off. Every time he used it, it deducted 1% of the electricity he’d worked so hard to earn—just thinking about it made him wince.

If it were free, he might have put up with it, but since it was a paid service, forget it. He couldn’t afford it. One try was enough; there was no need to keep getting ripped off.

However…

He looked up at the low waterfall not far away. It was probably about five or six meters high, but due to the angle, he couldn’t see what lay on the other side at all.

He turned to look at A-Si and asked, “I see you really like wandering around everywhere. Have you been up there?”

A-Si was actually quite surprised by his question. Instead of answering, she asked back, “How do you know I wander around?”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, If you didn’t wander around, how would you know where the ditches are?

If you didn’t wander around, how would you know so much? Why are you acting all sweet and innocent with me?

A-Si was amused by his expression and nodded lightly. “I haven’t gone up, but I’ve seen it,” he pointed to the rocks beside the waterfall. “You can climb up from there, but the rocks are slippery—be careful not to fall.”

Zhang Shuguang shot him a puzzled sideways glance. “Who said I was going up? Am I the adventurous type?”

He was very level-headed and would never do anything that endangered his life.

Knowing full well that there were things up there he couldn’t handle, yet still going up—that wouldn’t be looking for trouble; it would be courting death.

A-Si gave him a surprised look.

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips. In any case, he definitely wouldn’t go alone. Even if there were edible plants up there tempting him, he would never take the risk without a guarantee of safety.

His life was precious; he wasn’t about to throw it away.

A-Si smiled and said, “I thought you were just like me.”

Zhang Shuguang understood what he meant, but shook his head. “We’re different. You’re not afraid of challenges, but I prefer to play it safe. The outcome might be the same, but the process is worlds apart.”

Li stood nearby, looking at them blankly. He blinked and asked, “Why aren’t you two out catching fish? What are you talking about—challenges and being conservative? What does that even mean?”

A-Si looked at Li and sighed, “Naive.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Cute.”

The two spoke in unison, “You’re just fine the way you are.”

Outside the Cliff Shore Tribe, Ying Wu soared through the air, shouting, “Send someone to meet us—we’ve hunted a Terror Bird!”

The tribe was stunned. The quickest-reacting Beastmen immediately shifted into beast form and followed Ying Wu away.

Tianlu stood on the cliff’s edge, tiptoeing to look into the distance. Ninth Brother is coming back!