Zhang Shuguang followed Mang Jiu down the mountain. The enormous wooden basin was filled with offal; when he’d first picked it up, he’d nearly dropped it—it must have weighed at least fifty or sixty pounds.

Now, watching Mang Jiu stride along as if flying, his hands steady without the slightest wobble, he couldn’t help but admire the man’s arm strength.

“Where are we going?” Mang Jiu stood on the path at the back of the mountain. The road split into two forks here: one led to the area where Zhang Shuguang and the others were digging potatoes and bamboo shoots, and the other led to the large pit and ditch where they buried their waste.

Zhang Shuguang pointed, “That plot down there. I’ve named it the ‘Experimental Field.’”

Mang Jiu said nothing, lifting his foot to head down the narrow, winding path to the left.

They hadn’t gone far when they spotted a bare patch of ground amidst the tall grass; the soil had been raked into neat rows, looking quite orderly.

“Are we here?” Mang Jiu set the basin down and asked, turning back.

Zhang Shuguang was panting heavily; even the short jog down the hill had left him breathless. Thankfully, Mang Jiu had helped carry the large wooden basin down; if he’d had to carry it himself, it probably would’ve tipped over halfway down.

“Dig up the soil and bury it in the ground.” Zhang Shuguang wasn’t entirely sure if burying it like this would attract all sorts of bugs, but he felt it would be a waste to just dump it out without trying.

Mang Jiu didn’t ask any questions; he was a typical hands-on guy and immediately reached out to start digging.

“Wait, wait!” Zhang Shuguang quickly stopped him, pulled the hoe tucked at his waist, and handed it to him. “This digs faster and won’t strain your hands.”

Mang Jiu took it, examined it, and gave it a try—it worked quite well.

“You know a lot of things.”

Zhang Shuguang covered his mouth with one hand while pulling a stone spoon from his backpack with the other, saying in a deep, resonant voice, “I know plenty of things.” His eyes crinkled with a smile, and he looked a bit smug. Whether it was because he knew Mang Jiu had kept his secret or not, he suddenly felt much closer to Mang Jiu—an attitude he certainly wouldn’t have shown under normal circumstances.

Seeing him take out the stone scoop, Mang Jiu glanced at the wooden basin, raised his hand, and handed him the hoe. “You dig the soil; I’ll handle this.”

“No need,” Zhang Shuguang shook his head. “You just dig the soil.”

Mang Jiu didn’t press the matter. He dug quickly and had the entire field cleared in no time. Zhang Shuguang stood behind him, scooping water into the soil one ladle at a time. Watching him do this, Mang Jiu, as if by instinct, began filling the holes back in with the soil they’d just dug out.

“You guys are way too early!” By the time A-Si arrived, the two had already finished covering the soil. He sniffed the air and frowned. “That smells awful.”

Zhang Shuguang wiped the sweat from his face. “I chopped up those hog beast innards and soaked them in water, didn’t I? That’s the smell of fermentation. It’ll be fine in a bit.

“This is fertilizer. Don’t you use it when you farm back home?”

A-Si shook his head. “I just water it so the soil doesn’t dry out.”

Zhang Shuguang gave him a mysterious smile, leaned in, and whispered, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

A-Si tilted his head back slightly, looking at him with a touch of surprise. “What is it?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw Mang Jiu looking over this way. A-Si quickly pushed away Zhang Shuguang’s head, which had leaned in close. “Stand up straight and speak properly.”

Zhang Shuguang raised his eyebrows. “Actually, the best fertilizer—the one that makes crops grow the strongest—is manure.”

“Manure?” A-Si didn’t catch on at first.

Zhang Shuguang grinned mischievously. “Yeah, the stuff people poop out. The stinky stuff.”

“Ugh!!” A-Si was disgusted.

Zhang Shuguang shot him a look. “Your reaction is way too immediate. That’s just how it is. The fermented manure in those big pits can actually be diluted with water and used right away. Once this field is all planted with seeds, I really do plan to go over there and get some to water the crops.”

A-Si covered his mouth and waved his hands, “Don’t even mention it. I’m definitely not eating anything that grows in your field—it’s way too gross!”

Zhang Shuguang snorted derisively, “Just remember this: if you don’t eat it now, don’t come crying later when you end up eating it anyway.”

A-Si nodded repeatedly. If he said he wouldn’t eat it, he wouldn’t eat it. Who would want to eat vegetables grown from poop? That’s way too gross!

Mang Jiu heard everything clearly, but he didn’t think Zhang Shuguang was saying it just to gross people out. His words and actions were always hard to figure out, yet he always managed to succeed.

So when he heard Zhang Shuguang was going to use manure to water the fields, he didn’t find it unacceptable.

After teasing A-Si with his mischievous wit, Zhang Shuguang picked up the empty basin. “Go fetch some water—we need to water the soil.”

“How many trips back and forth will it take to finish?” A-Si hoisted the stone bucket he’d brought and sighed helplessly. “It’s just too far from the water source.”

“There’s no other way. If it really doesn’t work, we’ll just set up a big stone trough over here. When it rains, we’ll collect rainwater; when it doesn’t, we’ll have to carry water ourselves to fill it up. Then, when we need it, we can just scoop it right from here.” He pointed to the open space. “Let’s put one right here.”

“That would take a huge stone.” A-Si shook his head. “You’d work yourself to death carrying water then. The stone vats up at our cave are all filled by the Beastmen every day—a Sub-Beastman would be exhausted carrying water.”

Mang Jiu chimed in from the side, “I’ll carry the water.”

A-Si’s mouth twitched. Better act as if I didn’t say anything!

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “Let’s leave it at that for now. We’ll figure it out later.”

He was actually thinking of digging a well nearby, but he wasn’t sure if there was a water source underground. If there wasn’t, digging would be a waste of time. However, judging by the nearby water sources, he should be able to find water underground—he just didn’t know how much.

He stroked his chin, considering finding time to dig and test it out, but for now, it would be better to get a stone trough first.

Mang Jiu was a man of action. As soon as Zhang Shuguang decided to set up a stone trough here, he spoke up: “You guys go fetch water. I’ll go dig for the stone trough.”

Zhang Shuguang froze. “Dig it now?”

“Yeah, it won’t take much effort.” Mang Jiu headed down the path toward the front mountain. There were plenty of large boulders outside the tribe; he could just pick any one of them.

The three split up. A-Si turned to look at Zhang Shuguang and asked, “Nothing happened last night, did it?”

“No, everything was fine.” Zhang Shuguang didn’t understand why he was suddenly asking that.

A-Si raised his hand and tapped him near his eyes. “You don’t look like everything’s fine.”

Zhang Shuguang gave a dry laugh. Was he supposed to admit that he’d tossed and turned all night, feeling confused by his own life-and-death situation?

“I was just thinking about coming over to water the fields this morning. I’m really fine.”

A-Si snorted lightly. “When I was coming over just now, I happened to see Tianlu walking down from the mountain. Did you run into him?”

“Are you talking about Tianlu—the one who’s not very old and quite handsome?” Zhang Shuguang thought of that young man with his distinctive features; his obvious Western traits had made him look twice. “He came looking for Mang Jiu, but we were in a hurry to bury the fertilizer. The smell was pretty strong, and it got to him.”

A-Si chuckled softly. No wonder Tianlu had looked so miserable and frustrated when he’d seen him—it wasn’t just because Mang Jiu had ignored him, but also because he’d been choked by the fumes.

“What’s up? You seem pretty pleased,” Zhang Shuguang remarked, surprised by A-Si’s open reaction. “Don’t you get along with him?”

By then, the two had reached the edge of the large pit. As soon as A-Si recalled what Zhang Shuguang had just said about the fertilizer, his expression changed, and he felt a wave of nausea. He quickened his pace as he approached, then said, “Tianlu’s personality is a bit… um, how should I put it?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Prissy.”

“Huh?”

“‘Prissy’ means he whines whenever something happens. People have to coddle him and play along, or else he’ll just whine and whine.” Zhang Shuguang kindly explained, “Whining means crying—he cries at the drop of a hat. He speaks in a whiny, slurred way or gets red-rimmed eyes to make himself look weak. And since he’s weak, he thinks he’s in the right.”

A-Si nodded as he listened; the last part—“if he’s weak, he’s in the right”—hit the nail on the head.

“I’ve never seen a Sub-Beastman like that. You say he’s got balls, yet he’s so whiny!”

Every time Zhang Shuguang heard them talk about “having balls” or “not having balls,” his mind would involuntarily fill in the visuals—it was really rather inappropriate. He spoke up: “Um, let’s just say male and female—males have balls, and females don’t. Is that okay?”

“Male and female?” A-Si repeated it twice, finding it quite easy to remember. “Tianlu cries even more than female Sub-Beastmen, not to mention my own tribe, but even in the Cliff Shore Tribe, there are delicate female Sub-Beastmen, and I’ve never seen them crying all the time. Tianlu, with his temperament, starts crying the moment things don’t go his way.”

Zhang Shuguang was really just speculating; it was mainly his first impression—that of a delicate little prince who was probably the center of attention back in his tribe.

“So what’s your beef with him?” he asked curiously.

The two walked to the edge of the stream. A-Si waded in to wash his stone bucket and said, “I was the first Sub-Beastman Mang Jiu picked up; Tianlu was the second.” He glanced at Zhang Shuguang, who was downstream, scrubbing his basin. “There’s also a female Sub-Beastman named Ning—she was the third one Mang Jiu picked up. You’re the fourth.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “And then?”

A-Si sighed. “Tianlu must have been the chieftain’s son in his old tribe. After he arrived, he cried every day, saying he couldn’t sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he’d dream of the tribe being overrun and of his dead older brother. He cried and threw tantrums for days, just wanting Mang Jiu to stay with him.”

Zhang Shuguang blinked. This story was quite juicy!

“Did Mang Jiu stay with him?”

Based on what he knew of Mang Jiu, the guy probably wouldn’t have bothered.

A-Si shrugged. “How could he possibly keep Tianlu company? He wouldn’t even bother to look at him. Those two days, Mang Jiu must’ve just eaten too much—he coiled up in his den and didn’t come out at all. Tianlu may be a Sub-Beastman, but his tribe belongs to the Longtail Clan, who have an innate fear of the Giant Python Clan. When Mang Jiu isn’t in his beast form, it’s fine, but when he transforms, not only is Tianlu terrified, but hardly anyone else in the tribe dares to get close to him.”

Zhang Shuguang thought of that snake-like figure from last night and shuddered, finding himself in complete agreement. A python of that size—even someone not quite right in the head wouldn’t dare provoke it.

“Are the Long-Tailed Tribe birds?”

“Yes, the Western Continent is mostly populated by bird-people. The Long-Tailed Tribe has beautiful tail feathers, and the colors of their plumage are vivid—bluer than the sky and greener than the grass.” A-Si added a further explanation.

Zhang Shuguang froze, picturing a peacock in his mind. He climbed out of the ditch, set down the basin, and found a stone to sketch a few lines on the ground. “Is it something like this?”

A-Si tilted his head to look at it and exclaimed in surprise, “You’ve seen the Longtail Tribe in their beast form?”

Zhang Shuguang stroked his chin, not answering but asking instead, “Are there different types of Beastmen—giant beasts and ordinary ones?”

“Right. Actually, there aren’t many giant Beastmen. The Cliff Shore Tribe is the tribe where I’ve seen the most giant Beastmen. Even if other tribes have Giant Beastmen, their offspring aren’t necessarily of the giant beast clan. But in the Cliff Shore Tribe, every Beastman cub born is of the giant beast clan.” A-Si was actually quite curious as to why the Cliff Shore Tribe had gathered five giant beast clans, and he’d heard that these five groups had been living together for many years.

Zhang Shuguang nodded slightly. “I’ve seen members of the Longtail Clan in the Coastal Forest.” He still remembered the peacock that had flashed by that day; he’d even double-checked with Xiao Cai at the time.

A-Si paused in washing the sand and mud from his legs and looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t see wrong?”

“I don’t think so,” Zhang Shuguang admitted, though he wasn’t entirely certain—after all, there were so many biological variations in this world. But he remembered that beautiful, large tail. “Are there any other Long-Tailed Tribes?” He meant to ask if there were any besides Tianlu’s people.

A-Si understood what he meant and shook his head slowly. “I’ve never heard of any. The Long-Tailed Tribe loves to live in large groups; their tribe is huge. Tianlu said it’s precisely because their tribe is so large that they’ve been targeted by other tribes.”

Zhang Shuguang picked up the wooden basin, leaned forward, and spilled some water. A-Si reached out to steady it for him. “Why don’t you fill it with less water? It’s too heavy to carry back.”

“It’s fine. I’ll rest for a bit along the way. Keep talking.” Zhang Shuguang declined his offer, took a deep breath, and set off, holding the basin while shaking his arms.

Seeing this, A-Si picked up a small stone bucket filled with water and followed, switching hands from time to time. “I don’t actually know much about other tribes either—it’s all from what my father told me.”

“Your father is quite remarkable,” Zhang Shuguang said with genuine admiration.

In an era where communication wasn’t very advanced, knowing so much about other tribes was a skill in itself.

A-Si chuckled. “My father is two hundred years old—in our tribe, that’s considered average.”

Zhang Shuguang instantly thought of a certain long-lived race—thousand-year-old turtles and ten-thousand-year-old tortoises.

“What… tribe are you from?”

“The Giant Turtle Tribe. There aren’t many of us; we just live a bit longer.” Seeing his expression, A-Si could guess what was on his mind. “Most of our tribe’s Beastmen are around two hundred snow seasons old, and our chieftain is over three hundred. He knows the most, but he loves to sleep. From the day I was born until I left the tribe, I’ve only seen him once.”

Zhang Shuguang set down the basin and shook his aching arms, praising, “Long-lived races are truly impressive—able to sleep for years on end.”

A-Si chuckled. “You know a lot about long-lived races?”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, Who hasn’t watched *Animal World*? Teacher Zhao’s magnetic voice was one of the sounds he looked forward to most as a child—after all, back then, aside from watching *Animal World* every day, there didn’t seem to be any other programs worth looking forward to, because his mom wouldn’t let him!

But he couldn’t say that out loud!

He wore an inscrutable smile. “Hmm, I wouldn’t say I know them well. Actually, I know a little about every race—it’s just that the names I use are a bit different from yours.” Zhang Shuguang set down the basin. “I call the Long-Tailed Tribe the Peacocks.”

“That’s actually a pretty nice name,” A-Si said, “Tianlu treated me like an enemy for a while, but he finally backed off when he realized that Mang Jiu wouldn’t give any of us the time of day. You wouldn’t believe it, but several young Beastmen in the tribe wanted to have cubs with him, and he didn’t refuse. Usually, when they went out foraging, those Beastmen would all tag along with him, but he, on the other hand, would pounce on Mang Jiu the moment he saw him.”

Zhang Shuguang was quite impressed that he managed to steer the conversation back to Tianlu. “Did you get targeted by Tianlu’s admirers in the tribe?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” A-Si pursed his lips and reached out to take the basin from Zhang Shuguang. 

“Let’s swap. If you carry that back like that, your arms will be ruined.”

Zhang Shuguang didn’t refuse; he thanked him and swapped the small stone bucket. The two continued walking and chatting. 

A-Si said, “For a while, whenever the Beastmen in the tribe brought back game meat, I’d usually only get a tiny piece. Later, when I ran into those suitors during the meat distribution, I didn’t even get any meat at all—just bones that had been stripped clean.”

Zhang Shuguang frowned. “Why didn’t you go to the chief?” 

Based on what he knew of Xiong Kui, he wouldn’t have let this slide. A-Si shook his head. “I’m an outsider to begin with, and I’m not particularly fond of game meat anyway. Usually, when I go out foraging, I bring back plenty of wild vegetables and fruits to store, so I never went to see the chief. It wasn’t until Ning was brought back by Mang Jiu that Tianlu stopped targeting me.”

“How long has it been since Mang Jiu brought you back?” Zhang Shuguang asked.

“Five snow seasons have passed,” A-Si replied. 

“It seems Tianlu was picked up by Mang Jiu three snow seasons ago, and Ning two snow seasons ago.”

Zhang Shuguang switched to a different stone bucket. “Is Ning still in the tribe?”

“Ning is an eggless… female Sub-Beastman. She’s the offspring of the chieftain of nearby Ivory Tribe. Before the snow season, someone from Ivory Tribe came and took her back. When she left, she said she’d return once the snow melted.” 

Thinking of Ning and Tianlu’s usual behavior, A-Si couldn’t help but sigh with a headache. “She’s a difficult one to get along with, too. Those two really want to have a child with Mang Jiu—they’re always at each other’s throats whenever they see him. Tianlu gets bullied to tears by Ning every time.”

Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow. “Two polar opposites? One’s a total diva, the other’s a spoiled brat.”

A-Si wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but thinking about their personalities, he nodded. “Ning wants the best of everything. She looks down on everyone else and only wants to be with Mang Jiu. The Cliff Shore Tribe isn’t far from the Ivory Tribe—they’re friendly neighbors.”

Zhang Shuguang went, “Oh,” and understood. Another little princess raised in pampered luxury. A little princess and a little prince—when they meet, they’re bound to clash. If Tianlu is the “white lotus” type, then Ning is the “black peony.”

“Is the Ivory Tribe also part of the Giant Beast Clan?” he asked curiously.

A-Si shook his head. “No, but their animal forms are already massive.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded slightly. That was true—elephants were already huge; if they were also part of the Giant Beast Clan, tsk tsk, who knew how enormous they’d become.

“Has this Ning ever caused you any trouble?”

A-Si laughed: “No, Ning doesn’t really pay much attention to anyone in the tribe. She’s focused solely on competing with Tianlu for Mang Jiu. In fact, she’s always picking on Tianlu. Tianlu’s suitors, knowing she’s the chief’s daughter of the Ivory Tribe so they don’t dare say a word.”

Zhang Shuguang whistled. Status-based suppression and all that—sure, sure. That’s society for you.

The two reached the edge of the field and used the stone scoop they’d just made to scoop water and sprinkle it over the area where the vegetable seeds had been planted. As he watched his movements from the side and praised him, “Have you farmed before?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile; back home, his mother had often dragged him along to help.

Thinking of his mother, the smile on his face faded slightly.

Now that something had happened to him, his mother would likely blame herself to death. Though the old lady usually seemed carefree and untroubled, she was actually the type to overthink everything—her wild imaginings often kept her awake at night.

Judging by the time Mang Jiu had found him, he’d been gone for six days now. He couldn’t imagine how heartbroken his mother must be.

In the real world, at the Zhang family home.

Cuilan sat in Zhang Shuguang’s room, flipping through her youngest son’s photo album. She had taken countless photos of him every year since he was a child, and even after he graduated from college and started working, she never lost her passion for photographing him.

“Mom,” Zhang Chenyang called softly from the doorway, “You haven’t eaten dinner again.”

Cuilan raised her hand to wipe the tears from her face and said hoarsely, “I’m not hungry. You guys go ahead and eat.”

“Xiao Guang definitely wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Zhang Chenyang walked over and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Mom, I know what you’re thinking.”

Tears streamed down Cuilan’s face as she choked out, “If I hadn’t urged him to hurry back, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Mom!” Zhang Chenyang frowned, gently patting his mother’s shoulder to comfort her. “You saw the surveillance footage yourself. It wasn’t Xiao Guang’s fault. That car suddenly came barreling out—no one could have avoided it.”

“If I hadn’t called him, he would’ve definitely noticed the car.” Cuilan covered her face and sobbed, “I’m the one who killed Xiao Guang.”

“Mom!” Zhang Chenyang called out. Cuilan turned to look at him. “Do you think Xiao Guang would blame me?”

“Mom, Xiao Guang wouldn’t blame you. He adored you so much, loved you so deeply,” Zhang Chenyang said, his eyes red. “We all love you, Mom. You can’t keep going on like this. You still have us. If Xiao Guang knew how much you were blaming yourself, he’d be heartbroken too.”

Cuilan threw herself into her eldest son’s arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

At the door, Zhang Cheng wiped his face, took the tray from the nanny, and entered the room.

“A-Lan, drink your porridge. Tomorrow is Xiao Guang’s first seven-day memorial. They say the soul returns at night on the seventh day. If you don’t eat and sleep properly, what if you miss Xiao Guang coming to see you?” 

Zhang Chenyang looked at his father in disbelief. Was that really okay? Zhang Cheng shook his head at him.

As soon as Cuilan heard this, she stopped crying immediately and looked at her husband with swollen eyes. “You’re right. I can’t let Xiao Guang see me like this!” Zhang Chenyang silently gave his dad a thumbs-up. Old hands really do know best.

Zhang Cheng shot him a glare.

In another world, Zhang Shuguang and A-Si had finished watering the ground, and Mang Jiu had returned carrying a large stone basin.

Seeing the massive stone basin, Zhang Shuguang put his hand to his forehead. “You’re way too practical. How many buckets of water would it take to fill a basin this big?”

It was a square stone basin at least a meter in diameter and two meters deep. “And it’s way too tall! How am I supposed to scoop water out of it?”

Mang Jiu set the stone basin down, raised his fist, and punched it. With a thunderous crash, the stone split right down the middle. A series of booms echoed as the two-meter-tall stone basin instantly shrank by a significant amount.

Zhang Shuguang was speechless.

A-Si was equally startled by his actions and took several steps back to avoid getting hit by flying stone fragments.

“Is this okay?” Mang Jiu asked. Zhang Shuguang nodded dumbly. 

“Yes, it’s great. You did a fantastic job!” A-Si couldn’t stop laughing. He raised his hand and patted Zhang Shuguang on the shoulder. 

“Let’s go. You’re supposed to be making a bamboo basket.”

Zhang Shuguang wiped his face. “I can’t believe this. It’s so hard.”

Mang Jiu tossed a few large pieces of debris aside and said to Zhang Shuguang, “You guys go back. I’ll go fetch some water.”

“You have to help me out first,” Zhang Shuguang reached out and grabbed Mang Jiu’s wrist. “I can’t split the bamboo on my own.”

Mang Jiu glanced at his hand but didn’t shake off his touch; instead, he grabbed Zhang Shuguang’s wrist with his other hand. “Alright.”A-Si stood nearby, unable to bear watching. This sense of being superfluous was so heartbreaking.

“I’ll go get that sap for you in a bit,” Mang Jiu said.

Only then did Zhang Shuguang remember that he’d mentioned to Mang Jiu earlier that he wanted to see the sap inside the banana tree—he’d been so busy he’d completely forgotten.

“I’d like to see what that sap looks like, too,” he said, scratching his head in a bit of a quandary. “Why don’t you chop down a tree? Later, I’ll use that scaly board as a griddle—we can try a different way of grilling meat. Bring back plenty of those big banana leaves, I can use them to grill fish.” 

He thought for a moment, then added, “And pull some lemongrass back—the long grass you pulled out of the duck’s belly when we were grilling. I’ll use it to remove the fishy smell.”

Mang Jiu made a mental note and nodded. “Is there anything else you want me to bring back?”

“I feel like we’re a bit short on spices. Have you seen any other plants with unique scents? Or ones with distinctive flavors—sweet, sour, bitter, or spicy—anything goes, as long as it’s not poisonous.” Zhang Shuguang was getting a bit tired of lemongrass-grilled meat; he was craving something with a spicy and numbing flavor.

Mang Jiu hummed in acknowledgment. “Alright, I’ll go look for some later.”

The three returned to the cave entrance. Mang Jiu helped Zhang Shuguang split the sixteen ten-meter-long bamboo poles in half lengthwise, then split each half into four pieces. 

Zhang Shuguang tested it with the sharp stone he was holding, then found another stone to strike it with. He discovered he could split the bamboo slabs into thinner strips, and by splitting those strips down the middle, he could make them even thinner. “Alright, I’ve got this. Come back early—we’ll have grilled meat for lunch.”

Mang Jiu nodded and headed down the mountain. A-Si sat down on a rock and helped him split the bamboo slabs into strips, then Zhang Shuguang split each strip down the middle to create two thinner pieces. They worked quickly; once they got the hang of it, they had all the bamboo strips separated in no time.

“How are you going to weave the basket?” A-Si went to wash his hands. Zhang Shuguang fiddled with the strips on the ground for a moment. He realized he had a general idea of the design, but wasn’t quite sure how to make the bottom. A basket without a bottom wouldn’t hold things securely.

He pursed his lips, looking troubled. “I’ll have to figure it out. Let’s cook first—maybe I’ll come up with a solution after a good meal. Oh, right—you wanted to weave straw sandals, didn’t you? As it happens, I have some dry grass here. Why don’t you weave a pair to wear first?”

A-Si nodded. “Alright, teach me.”

Zhang Shuguang taught A-Si how to weave straw sandals. A-Si was clever; the sandals he wove were even more tightly woven than Zhang Shuguang’s.

“That’s really good,” Zhang Shuguang said as he stood up and fetched the scale plate he’d punctured yesterday. “I’m going to use this to grill meat—grilled meat on a scale plate!”

A-Si slipped on the straw sandals—which didn’t have any shark skin—stood up, took a few steps, and laughed, “It’s way better than walking barefoot.”

“If you find them too hard, you can line the bottom with a layer of leather, as I did.” Zhang Shuguang placed the scale plate on the ground, then raised his stone knife and began chopping at it. After a series of clangs, the large-scale plate split in two. 

One of the scales—a square roughly two meters on each side—was split down the middle, turning into two rectangles. He struck it again with a clang-clang-clang, eventually breaking it into four one-meter-square pieces. 

A-Si watched him in confusion from the side. “What are you doing? Didn’t you say we were going to grill meat?”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled, “I want to use it as a grilling board, but I need to test how heat-resistant this scale plate is first. I don’t want it to melt if I grill for too long.”

A-Si was even more confused.

Zhang Shuguang didn’t explain further, just told him to watch and he’d understand.

He lit the fire and roughly tossed one of the square scales directly into the flames. Not only that, but he piled more firewood on top of it.

A-Si was startled by his actions. Staring at the scale in the raging fire, he asked, “Won’t that warp it?”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. We’ve got plenty of them anyway. If one gets warped, we’ll just burn another. We’ll eventually figure out what the melting point is.”

The warping they’d imagined didn’t happen. Whatever the properties or principles behind this scale plate were, it withstood the fire but couldn’t withstand heavy blows. Even after burning for an hour, it showed no signs of changing shape.

A-Si had already helped Zhang Shuguang hang up all the fish they’d brought back yesterday, but still hadn’t noticed any changes in them.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled and rubbed his chin. “Perfect. It’s great material for making a frying pan.”

“A frying pan?” A Si’s eyes were filled with confusion.

Just as he was about to ask what a frying pan was, they heard hurried footsteps behind them. Both turned to see Li jogging toward them, his arms full of green wild berries.

Zhang Shuguang found his flustered appearance amusing and asked, “Where did you steal these berries from? Why are you running?”

“I tagged along with the foraging team for a bit. They said we had enough meat to last several days, so they just picked up some berries nearby.” Li handed Zhang Shuguang the seven or eight palm-sized green berries he was holding—their skins slightly shriveled and dehydrated. “Here, the ‘green lemons’ you found the other day.”

Zhang Shuguang took them and exclaimed in surprise, “These are much bigger than the ones I found.” The fruit he’d previously found, which he’d named “green lemon,” was only about the size of a jujube, whereas these were as large as modern yellow lemons.

“There are only a few of these in total. They thought they were too sour and nobody wanted them, so I brought them all here.” Li bent down to glance at the scaly plates burning in the hearth, then pointed and asked, “Why are you burning them? My father said the terror bird’s scales are all show and no substance. You can pierce them with just a little force. What good is fire resistance if they still get killed by our tribe’s warriors?”

Last night, he’d listened to Lang Qing recount their harrowing encounter with the terror bird, and it had been utterly thrilling. He envied the Beastmen who got to go out hunting.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Shuguang simply turned around, used a stick to pry the scale plate out, and set it aside to air-dry. Then he took a few strips of previously sun-dried fish from the rack and handed them to him. “Take two for the Shaman, keep two for yourself, and help me take two to Sister Fei. Tell them how to dry them.”

Li gave a nod, picked up the dried fish, and turned to head down the mountain.

A-Si sat on a rock, propping his chin in his hand as he watched Zhang Shuguang and said with a smile, “You’re actually quite kind.”

Zhang Shuguang glanced at him. “Sister Fei left over a dozen potatoes on the stove yesterday. I can’t just take them for free. Li’s mom helped me look after the kids for most of the day—sending her a couple of salted fish is the least I can do. As for the Shaman, well, who in our tribe doesn’t respect him?”

A-Si chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re right. When I got back yesterday, I rubbed the fish and ducks with salt and hung them up just like you said. Did you hang up that basin of meat?”

“I’ll hang it up. Let it sit in the salt for another two days. Meat doesn’t cure as well as fish; if you don’t handle it right, it’ll go bad easily.” Zhang Shuguang glanced at the male giant boar beast that Mang Jiu had gutted. Since Mang Jiu had scraped off all the fur that morning, the pink, fleshy carcass of the giant boar beast was now lying right there. It was a good thing the morning and evening temperatures weren’t too high; otherwise, it would have spoiled for sure.

He sighed and said, “When will the salt-replenishment team be back? If I don’t get some salt to cure this giant boar beast, it’ll go bad.”

“Just eat it,” said A-Si. “Mang Jiu has a huge appetite; he’ll polish off a whole giant boar beast in two or three days.”

Zhang Shuguang scoffed. “The Chief said he’d eaten too much before and couldn’t shift back into human form, which is why he had Xiong Hui bring back a batch of game first. It’s only been two days—how hungry could he possibly be? We’d be better off salting this meat, drying it out, and storing it. It might just save our lives during the snowy season when food is scarce.”

“Can it really last that long?” A-Si didn’t really believe him.

“You’ve dried fish yourself—you dried them until there wasn’t a drop of moisture left. Try it and see how long they last. But I’ll warn you, eat less of those salt blocks; they’re bad for your health.” Zhang Shuguang fiddled with the bamboo strips for a moment before giving up. “Never mind. I’ll be weaving a basket later. Why don’t you stay here for lunch? I’ll make some grilled meat for you to try.”

A-Si nodded. Since he was alone, it didn’t matter where he ate. Besides, he wasn’t going to eat for free—helping Zhang Shuguang with the work in exchange for a meal was a fair deal.

Zhang Shuguang used a stone to smash a thick wooden stick together with a charred piece of scale armor. He picked it up, examined it, and gave it a shake. Aside from its rough appearance, it was essentially a slightly larger frying pan—lightweight and quite easy to handle.

“This hole is perfect for draining the oil.” He smiled as he looked at the round hole he’d made yesterday. “Help me slice the meat—cut it into thin slices.”

Zhang Shuguang really didn’t know where to start with that pig, so he simply handed the task over to A-Si.

He planned to make a “Hua Kingdom-style” barbecue, but it didn’t matter that he didn’t have many seasonings to marinate the meat; lemongrass and green lemons would do just fine.

A-Si took his bone knife to slice the meat, while Zhang Shuguang held a large conch shell, placing the lemongrass and small green lemons inside. He then began pounding them with a wooden stick, adding salt as he went. Before long, green juice had pooled at the bottom of the shell.

“How should I cut it?” A-Si cut a large chunk of meat from the giant boar beast’s belly and held it up for him to see.

Zhang Shuguang glanced at the meat—it was standard three-layer pork belly, with fat and lean meat interlaced.

“A finger’s width,” he said, holding up his index finger to indicate that “a finger’s width” meant the width of the finger held vertically, not horizontally. “If it’s too thin, it’ll burn easily; if it’s too thick, it won’t cook through.”

A-Si nodded, placed the meat on the wooden board by the stove, and began cutting it with the utmost care.

Zhang Shuguang set down the large conch shell, went inside to grab a handful of wild greens to soak in water, then brought out two potatoes to peel, slicing them into thick slices as well.

Meanwhile, Mang Jiu returned carrying the severed banana tree and ran into Tianlu again at the foot of the mountain.

Faced with Tianlu’s relentless pestering, Mang Jiu had previously chosen to ignore him, but yesterday’s events made him realize that if he didn’t put an end to this man’s advances, Shuguang would surely get angry again.

Yesterday at the foot of the mountain, when he saw Shuguang suddenly turn back toward the cave, he had actually felt quite uneasy.

Mang Jiu frowned, set down the tree he was carrying on his shoulder, and said coldly to Tianlu, whose face was flushed and full of bashfulness, “You’re so annoying! Stop clinging to me.”

Tianlu’s eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what he’d just heard.

For a moment, he didn’t process what Mang Jiu had said to him. By the time he thought to ask, Mang Jiu had already bent down, hoisted the tree back onto his shoulders, and walked right past him!

Tianlu glared at his retreating back, seething inwardly. He was convinced he must have heard some gossip about him—otherwise, why would he act this way?

It must have been the Sub-Beastman who spoke ill of me. Brother Jiu has never treated me like this before!

Tianlu pressed his lips together, his eyes filled with hatred.

“Tianlu! Shall I go pick some fruit with you? Don’t you love eating them?”

Hearing the familiar voice, Tianlu instantly swept away his earlier resentment. With a coy smile, she nodded and said, “Brother Xiong Zhuang, thank you! Let’s go!”

Xiong Zhuang was so captivated by his smile that his eyes went wide. He stared intently at his face and said in a soft voice, “Tianlu, you’re so beautiful!”

Tianlu curved his lips into a smile. “Brother Xiong Zhuang, don’t say that—it makes me blush!”

Xiong Zhuang couldn’t stop chuckling. “But you really are beautiful!”

Tianlu feigned shyness while feeling secretly pleased, and the two chatted back and forth as they left the tribe together.