Hiiii, so sorry for the over two weeks late update, this is the first of the six I was meant to schedule. I’ll schedule 2 for everyday until Friday. Thanks for understanding!

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Zhang Shuguang’s off-the-cuff question left everyone looking puzzled.

What color? What does that mean?

Zhang Shuguang felt pretty awkward, too. He scratched his face and apologized to Mang Da: “Brother Mang, I’m sorry. I was so focused on drinking the soup just now that I zoned out.”

Mang Da shook his head slowly and asked him, sounding a bit uncertain, “Are you asking what I look like in my beast form?”

Before Zhang Shuguang could even speak, he underwent a massive transformation right on the spot.

It looked much like the dark green giant python he remembered, only several times thicker—though not as absurdly thick as the snake skin Mang Jiu had tossed at him earlier.

But!

It transformed into a snake right before his eyes without warning, its crimson tongue flickering from its mouth. Zhang Shuguang had no time to react; the price of staring directly at the massive serpent’s head was that his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

“Mang Da!” Mang Jiu roared furiously, reaching out to catch Zhang Shuguang’s slumping body.

Mang Da’s massive serpent head swayed slightly as he muttered blankly, “Why’s he passed out? Did he get scared?”

Wu Ming sighed and turned to Xiong Kui. “Do the Beastmen of the Giant Python Clan eat too many eggshells when they’re young, which is why their brains are so rock-hard?” He pointed at Mang Jiu. “All of them are the same. Mang Jiu’s actually the better one.”

Xiong Kui nodded, his face a picture of despair, wholeheartedly agreeing with Wu Ming’s words. Each of them was stiff and wooden—a real headache.

Mang Jiu glared at Mang Da, then carried Zhang Shuguang into the cave.

Mang Da shifted back into human form and scratched his head. “I didn’t do anything. Didn’t he ask me what I looked like? I couldn’t really describe it, so I turned into a snake so he could see for himself.”

Xiong Kui raised his hand and slapped him on the back of the head. “Get back to your own cave right now—you’re just causing trouble here!”

Mang Da realized that transforming into his serpent form right in front of Mang Jiu’s Sub-Beastman companion didn’t seem quite right—especially since he’d scared the guy unconscious. He chuckled, turned to leave, took a step, then turned back. “There’s one more thing.”

“Why are you so nosy?” Xiong Kui glared at him.

Mang Da looked aggrieved: “There are thirty sunrises left until the post-thaw gathering. It’s the Rock Forest Tribe’s turn to host this time. Shi Quan, the leader of the Lion-Tiger Clan, led a delegation to trade for salt recently and got ripped off by the Sand Crocodile Clan. He wants to use this gathering to ask everyone what they think about future salt trades.”

Xiong Kui rubbed his broad face and frowned in thought. “We’ll see how much salt our tribe has stockpiled by then. If we have enough to trade with them, we can suggest they come here to exchange salt in the future.”

Mang Da nodded. “Alright, should I go check the coast tomorrow?”

“No need. Send someone from the Giant Eagle Clan to the coast to pass a message to Xi San—tell him to bring some salt back first.” Xiong Kui pondered for a moment. “I’ll ask Shuguang about the salt-drying business once he wakes up. You should go now. Mang Jiu has no time for you right now, and if he sees you when he comes out, he’ll definitely give you a beating.”

Mang Da let out a sigh. “Alright, I’ll head back then.”

After he left, Wu Ming and Xiong Kui sat by the table, each holding a water cup made from bamboo sections. They fiddled with them curiously for a moment. Wu Ming whispered, “These are actually quite handy. They’re more convenient than stone bowls and not nearly as heavy.”

“I’ve been watching Shuguang work with bamboo these past couple of days and was wondering what he was up to. So he was making bamboo bowls—that’s actually pretty good.” Xiong Kui nodded. The cup in his hand was made from a thin bamboo segment, while the bowl they’d just used for dinner—made from a thicker segment—was still on the table. He picked it up and examined it. “It’s less trouble than carving wood.”

Wu Ming nodded, then pointed to the stone wall that Mang Jiu had built using mud and stones. “Look at that.”

Xiong Kui turned to look, glancing from afar at the stone wall surrounding their tribe, then back at the section of wall along the cliff’s edge. “No matter how I look at it, this seems sturdier than the tribe’s wall.”

Wu Ming nodded and gave it a gentle push; it didn’t budge, clearly bonded very securely.

“Where did they get this mud?”

“I don’t know,” Xiong Kui shook his head. “Ask Mang Jiu. I saw the two of them tinkering with this stuff today.”

“It must have been Shuguang who discovered it. If this mud can hold stones together, we could try using it on our tribe’s walls too.” Wu Ming was fascinated by this. Noticing that the stone pillars of the hearth had also been coated with mud, he walked over and poked at them. He found the mud had hardened, and when he leaned in to take a closer look, he was surprised to see no cracks.

He really hadn’t known mud could turn out like this.

Inside the cave, Mang Jiu laid Zhang Shuguang down on the stone slab bed. Seeing the thin layer of sweat on his forehead, he pursed his lips, wiped it away with the short fur pelt lying nearby, and gently patted the other’s cheek. “Shuguang? Shuguang, wake up.”

Zhang Shuguang kept his eyes tightly shut, his brow furrowed into a knot.

His dry lips were slightly chapped, and his mouth moved ever so slightly.

Mang Jiu bent down and pressed his ear close to listen, hearing only a very faint murmur: “Mom, I’m scared.”

Mang Jiu froze for a moment, then awkwardly reached out to gently pinch his ear. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang sniffled, turned his body, and wrapped his arms around Mang Jiu’s arm, whimpering, “Mommy, snakes are so scary.”

Mang Jiu’s body stiffened, his face tensing.

Nai Dou and Tang Dou curled up, huddled motionless inside the giant conch shell, staring wide-eyed at Mang Jiu, who was radiating cold.

Zhang Shuguang shivered, inched forward a bit, found it even colder, and retreated again.

Mang Jiu took a deep breath and exhaled slowly; in the end, he didn’t take Zhang Shuguang’s words too seriously.

He couldn’t help it—with his arm being held like this, a different kind of emotion was spreading through him.

Zhang Shuguang didn’t stay unconscious for long. When he woke up, he was still groggy and felt like he was hugging something. He opened his eyes to see Mang Jiu sitting sideways next to him, one arm wrapped around him.

“Ah…” He blinked a few times and let go. “I didn’t drool, did I?”

Mang Jiu’s face remained cold as he snorted. “You called me ‘Mom,’ and you said snakes are so scary.”

Zhang Shuguang scratched his face and gave an awkward laugh: “When I was a kid, I got scared by a snake—a huge, dark green python,” he pouted, his expression a mix of panic, hurt, and annoyance. “I didn’t know your older brother would just transform like that! That massive snake head was right in my face, and its tongue almost hit me!”

Mang Jiu tilted his head. “Hmm, I saw that.”

Zhang Shuguang rubbed his face and gave a slightly sheepish smile. “Well, if you’d given me a little time, I definitely wouldn’t have been such a coward.”

Mang Jiu thought for a moment, then asked him, “Do you think Mang Da’s beast form is scary because he’s so big?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head. “No, it’s just a physical reaction. I was young back then, and seeing a live chicken get swallowed whole was a bit of a shock.”

“What do you think when you see my and Mang Er’s shed skins?” Mang Jiu nodded slightly and asked again.

Zhang Shuguang recalled his state of mind when he’d seen their two shed skins back then; he had to admit he was still afraid.

But since Mang Jiu was asking him so seriously, admitting he was afraid didn’t seem quite right.

“Well, then… why don’t you transform right now so I can take a look? Maybe once I’m mentally prepared, I won’t be afraid anymore?”

Mang Jiu stared at him. His figure was reflected in Zhang Shuguang’s dark pupils. Only now did Mang Jiu realize that a person’s irises could be so starkly black and white.

“Are you sure you want to see my beast form?”

Zhang Shuguang grimaced. I’m not sure!

But I’m going to see it someday anyway. Seeing it now is at least better than you suddenly transforming into a giant snake right next to me one day!

“Go ahead and transform. I can handle it. Trust me.”

He was actually curious about Mang Jiu’s beast form. That shed skin was incredibly wide; he hadn’t seen the length, but given how thick that coil was, it certainly couldn’t be short.

Mang Jiu glanced around, moved the low table aside, and asked, “Are you sure? You won’t faint again?”

Zhang Shuguang swallowed nervously, scooping Nai Dou and Tangdang out of their nest and hugging them close. “No, I won’t. I definitely won’t pass out!”

Mang Jiu yanked off his leather skirt and tossed it aside, leaving a certain massive object pointing straight at Zhang Shuguang’s face.

It happened in an instant. Zhang Shuguang only had time to widen his eyes. Before he could react further, he saw Mang Jiu’s thick, black-and-gold serpentine body appear right before him.

That moment felt quite unexpected—not because the person suddenly vanished, but because his human form gradually faded away. By the time Zhang Shuguang realized what was happening, Mang Jiu had already transformed into a serpent.

The snake’s head was nearly as wide as Zhang Shuguang’s stone slab bed. He couldn’t make out the rest of its body clearly—it was simply too massive and bulky. Mang Jiu coiled its body around itself, lifting its head only slightly to look at him.

If the head was that big, one could only imagine the thickness of its midsection.

“Y-y-you… just how big are you, exactly!” Zhang Shuguang’s voice trembled. He pinched his thigh as hard as he could to fight off the urge to faint; he was literally shaking with fear.

Mang Jiu flickered its purplish-black tongue and spoke in human language.

“I don’t know. I’ll be even bigger after I shed my skin.” 

He shifted a couple of times inside the cave, realizing that with its current size, it couldn’t fully stretch out without risking damage to the cave.

Zhang Shuguang’s face went pale, and his lips trembled as he stammered, “Um, you, you should, you should turn back first.” He was on the verge of being overwhelmed by waves of dizziness!

The two little ones in his arms had long since curled up like quails; they didn’t dare make a sound, let alone tremble. If they were in human form, they’d likely be just as pale as Zhang Shuguang.

Mang Jiu shifted back into human form. Seeing the look on his face, he knew he’d been scared again.

“Go wash up and get some sleep.”

Zhang Shuguang was at a loss for words. He’d love to sleep, but the problem was that he was bound to have nightmares!

He didn’t actually have a nightmare about being wrapped by a snake, but he didn’t sleep well either. In the middle of the night, he seemed to dream about his parents. The images were blurry, but he knew his mother was crying the whole time, deeply saddened, while his father and older brother stood by, comforting her.

When he woke up in the morning, his eyes were swollen and puffy, and there were still wet tear streaks on his face.

He raised his hand to wipe his face, sniffed, and turned to look at the stone bed where Mang Jiu had been sleeping. As expected, no one was there.

He realized that this man always woke up earlier than he did.

Aren’t snakes supposed to love sleeping?

How come Mang Jiu is so hardworking?

“Mang Jiu?” he called out, but heard no sound from outside the cave. After a night had passed, the shock he’d felt from seeing Mang Jiu’s massive head had mostly faded, and he wasn’t afraid anymore.

The two little ones came over and rubbed against him. Tang Dou chirped twice, clearly in much better spirits than the past couple of days, while Nai Dou licked Zhang Shuguang’s finger with his little tongue, raised a paw, and rested it on his leg. “Meow!”

That “meow” every morning basically meant he was hungry.

Zhang Shuguang got out of bed, grabbed his leather vest, and put it on, then slipped on his leather shorts.

He furrowed his brow, running his hand over the short fur on the shorts—the texture felt rough.

“I should make another pair to rotate.”

“What do you mean, ‘rotate’?” Mang Jiu was holding a round fruit in one hand—deep purple, a rather pretty color.

“I want to make another pair of leather shorts.” Zhang Shuguang walked over to him and poked the fruit’s surface with his finger; it was rock-hard. “What is this? ”

“The Salt Exchange Team brought these back from the Longleaf Forest. I don’t know what they taste like either. They said they’re quite fragrant, but a bit sour.” He handed one of the fruits to Zhang Shuguang. “Take a whiff.”

Zhang Shuguang cradled the coconut-sized, unidentifiable purple fruit, lowered his head to sniff it, and froze.

His mouth twitched twice, and he said speechlessly, “Isn’t this a passion fruit? What kind of mutation is this? How did it get so much bigger!”

“You know what this is?”

“The ones I’m familiar with aren’t even as big as my fist,” he clenched his fist and shook it, then pointed, “But the ones here are this big!”

Mang Jiu chuckled. “So, do you like them?”

“They’re okay. You can steep them in water or use them in cooking. I’ll cut one open later to taste—not sure if it’s the same flavor I’m used to.” Zhang Shuguang handed the fruit back to Mang Jiu; he was going to wash up.

“That fruit Sister Hua gave me yesterday was supposed to be a little sweet. Let’s try boiling them together—it should taste pretty good.” He wiped the water from his face, took two shriveled fruits from the thick bamboo tube sitting on the stove, examined them, and sniffed. “Did Sister Hua say what kind of fruit they were?”

“No,” Mang Jiu shook his head. “She just said you could steep them in water to drink, and that they had a slightly sweet taste.”

Zhang Shuguang went, “Oh,” then washed off the fine dust clinging to the surface of the fruit. He sliced it open with a bone knife and discovered that the inside consisted of red, thread-like strands attached to the skin—not separate flesh.

He took a sniff; it had a faint, pleasant aroma—a scent he’d never encountered before, though it wasn’t overpowering.

“What is this?” He used the tip of his knife to pick out a few strands and tasted them; they did have a slightly sweet flavor.

“Let’s call it the ‘Sisi Fruit,’” Zhang Shuguang admitted, acknowledging his own lack of creativity when it came to naming things. “We’ll see if it tastes better when we find some fresh ones later.”

Mang Jiu nodded. As long as the name was easy to remember, that was fine. His brain wouldn’t allow him to remember overly complicated names—though, of course, this was selective; he could remember everything Zhang Shuguang said.

Zhang Shuguang boiled a pot of water. While the water was heating, he used a bone knife to cut through the hard skin at the top of that oversized, purple fruit, which looked like a mutant passion fruit. A rich, fruity aroma wafted out, and he took a deep breath. “This is passion fruit.”

“It does smell pretty good,” Mang Jiu poked his finger into it, then pulled it out and licked it, his face contorting into a sour expression. “You can’t eat this, right?”

Zhang Shuguang nearly died laughing. He tasted it himself—it was a bit sour, but not nearly as sour as Mang Jiu claimed; at the very least, it was much better than a green lemon.

A mischievous grin suddenly curled at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed a small green lemon from the rough bamboo tube and shoved it into Mang Jiu’s mouth.

Mang Jiu held the green lemon in his mouth, a look of confusion in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Just try it.”

Seeing the clearly mischievous look on his face, Mang Jiu promptly spat the green lemon out. “Is this even more sour than the last one?”

Zhang Shuguang pouted slightly, disappointed that he hadn’t fallen for the trick. Adhering to the principle of not wasting anything, he took the green lemon, washed it, cut it open, and handed it to him. “Lick it and see.”

Mang Jiu shook his head and flatly refused, “I’m not licking it.”

Zhang Shuguang clicked his tongue and dumped the sliced green lemon and passion fruit into the water to boil together.

Seeing his actions, Mang Jiu almost reached out to stop him, but then watched as Zhang Shuguang tossed the two sissifruit he’d just picked into the pot as well. He couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing?”

“The sweet-and-sour flavor should be nice. Drinking something tart helps stimulate the appetite and aids digestion.” Zhang Shuguang thought about how his digestion hadn’t been great lately, which made him want it even more.

“It’s all seeds—how are we supposed to drink this?” Mang Jiu looked at the pile of seeds in the pot, grimaced, and said with obvious distaste, “I’m not drinking this.”

Zhang Shuguang snorted. Take it or leave it.

After a simple breakfast, Zhang Shuguang held a cup of sour juice made by boiling passion fruit, sissifruit, and green lemons together. He drank it with a refreshingly tart sensation filling his mouth; as for the slight sweetness of the sissifruit, it was completely negligible amidst all that acidity.

“It would be nice if we had some honey.” He licked his lips and turned to look at Mang Jiu. “Where can we find bees? They’re those little flying insects that feed on nectar—yellow and black, covered in fine hairs, with a stinger at the very tip of their abdomen.” He held up a finger to indicate the size. “About this big, though they’re probably larger around here.”

Mang Jiu nodded. “Yeah, there are plenty of them when the flowers bloom. They’re pretty aggressive.”

“Where!” Zhang Shuguang’s eyes lit up. “Is it close to the tribe?”

Mang Jiu: “There are the most over on the Wild Plains, but there are some near the tribe too. What do you need the bees for? Are they edible?”

Zhang Shuguang looked at him speechlessly. “Can’t you stop thinking about food all the time? You can keep bees. We’ll make a few beehives out of wooden planks, and after a while, we’ll get honey. It’s incredibly sweet—really, really sweet. You’ll know once you try it. It even has a floral scent.”

Mang Jiu grabbed his wrist. “Is there some of that ‘super sweet’ honey you mentioned inside the bees’ nest?”

“Of course. If we can find a hive, there’s definitely honey.” Zhang Shuguang looked at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“I know where there’s a hive.” Mang Jiu looked serious. “Do you want to eat some super sweet honey?”

Zhang Shuguang stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter, bending over at the waist.

“Mang Jiu, do you want to eat some extra-extra-sweet honey?”

Mang Jiu looked serious. “I’d be willing to try.”

“Hahahahahahahaha, burp, hahahaha, burp.” Zhang Shuguang clutched his stomach and laughed wildly; he laughed so hard he sucked in a breath of cold air, burping as he laughed.

Mang Jiu stood to one side with his arms crossed, watching him laugh.

Zhang Shuguang was laughing so happily, his voice unashamedly boisterous, that Yu and Hua from the nearby cave were drawn out by the sound.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing like that?” Yu walked over and asked.

Hua glanced at Mang Jiu, then at Zhang Shuguang. “What are you two up to this early in the morning?”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand, tears streaming down his face from laughter. “Nothing, nothing. We were just talking.”

Mang Jiu sighed, pulled him to his feet, and handed him the sour fruit juice. “Drink up.”

Zhang Shuguang thanked him with a smile and took a sip.

“Sister Hua, Brother Yu, I made some sour fruit juice.” He poured a cup for each of them and handed them over. “Give it a try.”

Yu took a sip and grimaced at the tartness.

Hua, however, seemed to like it. She sipped it, savored the flavor, then took another sip. “It’s good. It’s even a little sweet.”

“I put the fruit you gave me in there to cook with it. I’ve named it ‘Sisi Fruit.’ What was its original name?” Zhang Shuguang asked with a smile.

Hua laughed. “I call it ‘Sisi Fruit’ too. Who knows what it’s really called? As long as it rolls off the tongue, that’s fine. What are you planning to do today? My husband Xiong Kui said this stove you built is pretty handy. He asked me to ask you where you dug up the clay—he wants to get some too.”

“From the ditch behind the big pit. Let the clay dry out a bit first—it’ll be stickier that way,” Zhang Shuguang said, running his hand over the now-dry stove. “It’s actually pretty heat-resistant. I lit a fire this morning, and it didn’t crack.”

Hua nodded, taking note. “I’ll go dig some with him later. There’s plenty of meat in the tribe these days, so everyone’s got some free time, but none of them seem to realize they should use the opportunity to dig up more potatoes.”

“I don’t think there are any potatoes left to dig up around here,” Zhang Shuguang said. “Actually, we should plant some potato sprouts in the spots where we dug them up. By the time the snow season arrives, we’ll have quite a harvest again.”

Hua was taken aback. “We have to plant them back?”

“…If we don’t replant them after digging them up, what will we eat later?” Zhang Shuguang asked in return.

Hua had only just realized the problem; when they’d gone foraging before, they’d never actually encountered a situation like this.

Usually, when the foraging team went out, even if they found wild fruit that tasted good, they wouldn’t bring the whole tree back with them. They’d never really thought about whether potatoes would grow back after digging up all the nearby ones like this.

“No, I have to tell Xiong Kui back at the tribe.” Hua drained the last bit of sour fruit juice from her cup, set it down, and ran back toward the cave. “Xiong Kui, Xiong Kui, wake up! Stop sleeping! Get up now!”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at the sun in the sky.

He guessed it must be at least ten o’clock by now.

So the chief likes to sleep until the sun is high in the sky?

Xiong Kui was startled awake in the cave by Hua’s nagging. By the time he emerged from the cave, his head still spinning, he saw Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu, who had just finished weaving a bamboo basket and were about to go gather honey.

Mang Jiu told Zhang Shuguang that the nearest beehive was upstream from the shallow pool, and that there were still plenty of undiscovered fruits and wild vegetables in that area. Zhang Shuguang decided to weave a basket so they could go pick up some useful things.

Having learned from the lesson of the weak bottom on his last basket, he started by using thick bamboo slats for the base, then wrapped the sides with thin bamboo strips. With Mang Jiu’s help, they quickly wove two bamboo baskets. Although the gaps between the strips weren’t tight enough, the bottom held up well under weight.

Zhang Shuguang placed a few large stones inside, lifted it to test it, and it held up.

“Very good. Next time we weave one, we’ll make the slats closer together so the holes are smaller—that way we can carry smaller items. With this one, if you try to put in something smaller, it’ll still fall right through.”

Mang Jiu nodded, slung his basket over his shoulder, turned to look at it, then reached out to test it. “Pretty handy.”

Xiong Kui spotted the bamboo baskets on their backs and swallowed the words he’d been about to say.

He circled the two of them, ran his hand over the baskets, and asked urgently, “Is this woven from bamboo? Is it hard to weave? How long does it take to finish?”

Yu, who had been watching the two work from the sidelines, finally closed his mouth—which had been agape in astonishment—and spoke up for them: “This is called a bamboo basket. It’s not easy to weave; it takes at least the time it takes to eat a meal.”

“A meal? That’s pretty fast.” Xiong Kui looked puzzled.

“It’s a meal as in the time it takes Shuguang to cook and eat, not a meal as in the time it takes us to cook and eat.” Ever since Zhang Shuguang started using words like “meal,” “breakfast,” “lunch,” and “dinner,” they had all begun to pick them up unconsciously. They found these terms sounded much nicer and rolled off the tongue more easily than simply saying “eat meat” or “eat food.”

Xiong Kui thought back to how long it usually took Zhang Shuguang to cook and exclaimed in surprise, “Just this one basket? It takes that long?”

“It goes much faster when two people weave a basket together. We wove two of them; if one person does it alone, it takes longer,” Zhang Shuguang handed the bamboo basket he was carrying to Xiong Kui. “Chief, try it out. It’s more practical than a regular leather bag, and it’s lightweight.”

Xiong Kui took it and tried it on his back. He found it was exactly as Zhang Shuguang had said—carrying it empty, the weight was practically negligible, making it easy even for a Sub-Beastman to carry. Plus, the side against his body was lined with leather, so he didn’t have to worry about it digging into his spine.

“How much can it hold?” he asked, though he couldn’t resist adding a few large stones to the already loaded basket.

Zhang Shuguang was actually curious about the load-bearing limit of this bamboo basket—or rather, bamboo backpack—so when he saw Xiong Kui stuffing stones inside, he didn’t stop him.

Yu, however, spoke up with some concern from the side: “Chief, don’t put too much in. It would be such a shame if it broke under the weight—it’s a lot of trouble to weave one.”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “It’s fine. Let’s see if we can fill it up. If it holds up without breaking, we’ll be able to carry quite a bit of stuff with it.”

Xiong Kui quickly filled the basket with stones, walked around with it on his back, and praised it: “It’s useful—really useful. Could you teach the others in the tribe how to weave this kind of basket? We could trade goods with them.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled broadly. “Of course I can. I’ll make a few adjustments before teaching them—this one isn’t quite right yet.” He poked at the large holes in the basket’s rim. “We could weave these holes smaller or eliminate them altogether. Chieftain, if you have no other business, we’ll head out now.”

Xiong Kui emptied the stones out and handed the bamboo basket back to him. “Very well, very well. If we can weave more of these bamboo baskets, they could serve as unique tribal items to trade with outsiders.” He paused to think for a moment before adding, “Shuguang, when you return later this evening, let’s discuss how much of the goods we should allocate to you.”

Zhang Shuguang understood what he meant. The chief wanted him to teach others how to weave back baskets, then take them to the market to trade for goods, with a share of the proceeds going to him as a token of appreciation. He nodded and smiled, “Alright, then I won’t stand on ceremony with the chief.”

“It’s only right—you’ve done so much for the tribe.” Xiong Kui patted him on the shoulder. “Go on now, get back to your work. We’ll talk more when you return tonight.”

Zhang Shuguang replied, went back into the cave to place the two little ones in the backpack, and then headed down the mountain with Mang Jiu.

They hadn’t gone far when Xiong Kui suddenly slapped his forehead and said to Yu, “I forgot to ask Shuguang how to grow potatoes!”

Yu chuckled helplessly. “A-Si and Li went out together to tend the fields. I heard Li mention it in passing. Shuguang planted potatoes on the back mountain; the Chief can ask A-Si about it. Li went out with the young Sub-Beastmen from the tribe to dig for wild vegetables—those little rascals can’t sit still.”

“Don’t they hate wild greens?” Xiong Kui followed him out, asking as they walked, “Why did they suddenly run off to dig some?”

“Li had a meal at Shuguang’s place earlier. When he got back, he mentioned it to his Sub-Beastman friends. It just so happened the tribe had bagged a lot of meat recently, so these little rascals remembered the animal fat Shuguang had rendered. They tried their hand at rendering quite a bit themselves. I don’t know whose idea it was in the cave, but they boiled the wild greens and game meat together with the fat. They said it tasted pretty good, so they all gathered for a meal, and now they’ve all run off to dig up wild greens.”

“No wonder I didn’t see Li come over to find Shuguang,” Xiong Kui chuckled. “Come on, let’s go find A-Si together and ask him how to grow potatoes.”

Yu nodded. “Alright.”

Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu followed the path down the mountain. As usual, they first took a lap around the experimental field. Finding the soil moist, he turned to Mang Jiu and said, “A-Si is really great—so diligent and responsible. If we find any honey, give him some.”

Mang Jiu nodded, having no objections.

“He even pulled the weeds,” Zhang Shuguang said as he walked a lap through the field along the path. “He’s so meticulous.” He looked up at Mang Jiu. “How come you didn’t take a liking to him? It’s rare to find such a good Sub-Beastman, isn’t it?”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “I don’t know.” He didn’t know if the boy was good or not, and if he hadn’t seen A-Si standing with Shuguang in front of his cave, he would have long since forgotten that this was someone he’d taken in himself.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled and waved at him. “Come on, let’s go find some honey.”

Mang Jiu reached out to stop him, taking the bamboo basket off his back. “I’ll carry you.”

“Huh?” Zhang Shuguang was surprised. “I can walk on my own. It’s not that far.”

Mang Jiu said sternly, “You’ve just recovered. Walking too long will tire you out, and you’re slow.” He emphasized the word “slow” with particular emphasis.

Zhang Shuguang shot him a look, stacked the two back baskets on top of each other, poked the two cubs’ soft little bodies, then grabbed a handful of grass to cover them both. “Be good, don’t wriggle around.”

Nai Dou meowed softly.

Tang Dou chirped a few times, then shrank back a little fearfully toward Nai Dou.

Zhang Shuguang threw himself onto Mang Jiu’s back without hesitation, wrapped his arms around his neck, and clamped his legs tight. “Let’s go!”

His movements were incredibly smooth.

Mang Jiu gripped his legs with both hands, steadied his back, and began to run.

“Yee-haw~~!!!” Being carried by Mang Jiu this time felt completely different from last time. Zhang Shuguang straightened his back and let out a cheer, “So fast!!!”

Mang Jiu replied, “I can go even faster.”

“No, thanks. It’s too fast—I’m afraid I’ll get motion sickness.” Zhang Shuguang knew exactly when to call it quits; this speed was probably close to 100 mph! Any faster, and the headwind alone would make him throw up.

He leaned in curiously and whispered into Mang Jiu’s ear, “Can snakes run this fast? Don’t snakes have no legs?”

Mang Jiu was taken aback by the question. How was he supposed to answer that?

Running fast and having legs didn’t seem to have much to do with each other, did they?

In his beast form, with a single twist and dart, he could dash a long way without having to kick his legs to run—it wasn’t that complicated.

If Zhang Shuguang knew what he was thinking, he’d probably punch him.

Show-off bastard, asking for a beating.

Zhang Shuguang buried his face in Mang Jiu’s shoulder, pressing against his slightly cool skin, and nuzzled him gently. “When we get back, I’ll make you a vest to wear.”

“Okay,” Mang Jiu replied.

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes crinkled in a smile. He unconsciously moved his fingers, and his fingertips landed right on Mang Jiu’s collarbone, gently brushing against it.

Mang Jiu’s running motion faltered, nearly flinging Zhang Shuguang off.

Zhang Shuguang quickly wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, startled. “What’s wrong?”

Mang Jiu: “…Nothing.”

He resumed running and soon reached the edge of a shallow pond. Zhang Shuguang stepped into the water to wash his hands. Through the clear water, he could see lotus seeds lying at the bottom.

“Huh?” He bent down to get a closer look and reached into the water. “Mang Jiu, come here. Give me a hand.”

Mang Jiu walked over to him. “Hmm?”

“That one,” Zhang Shuguang wiggled his finger in the water, “that one—the one that looks like a bean. Help me pick it up. I can’t reach it.”

Mang Jiu reached into the water; with his long arms and fingers, he managed to retrieve the seed Zhang Shuguang had pointed out.

Zhang Shuguang took it and examined it, delighted to discover that it had actually sprouted—a tender, yellow-green shoot had broken through the seed, a sight that was truly delightful.

“This! A lotus! Hahaha, in a few months we’ll get to see a big lotus flower!” He shoved the seed right in front of Mang Jiu’s face. “It’s especially beautiful when it blooms—huge leaves and pale pink flowers. Though I’m not sure what variety of lotus this is, so I can’t say for certain if it’ll be pale pink.”

Mang Jiu stared at the dimple on his cheek for a long moment before offering a faint smile. “I’d really like to see that beauty you’re talking about,” he said.

Zhang Shuguang tossed the seeds back into the water, picked up a twig, and sketched a rough outline on the ground. “It’ll look something like this.” He tapped the drawing. “You can wrap chicken in the lotus leaves and roast it, just like when we were at the beach last time, and I used banana leaves to roast fish—only this will taste even better.”

Mang Jiu stared at him for a long moment before saying indifferently, “Grow more of them.”

“……” Zhang Shuguang couldn’t stop laughing. “Mang Jiu, you’re actually a foodie.”

Mang Jiu looked confused. “A foodie?”

“Yeah, someone who loves to eat. You’re exactly that kind of foodie. People say foodies just eat and don’t do anything, but you can both work and eat—that’s pretty great.” ” Zhang Shuguang touched the dimple on his cheek and asked with a smile, “Do you especially like this little dimple of mine?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.” Mang Jiu nodded. “I’ve seen a lot of people with dimples, but yours is the prettiest. ” He poked it with his finger again. His touch wasn’t very firm—it felt more like a tickle, a gentle poke-poke-poke.

Zhang Shuguang rolled his eyes at him. “Stop poking around. It’s already asymmetrical with just one on one side; if you poke a mark into it, it’ll look even worse.”

“It’s pretty.” Mang Jiu stared blankly; pretty was pretty.

Zhang Shuguang didn’t argue with him about it; he just thought a single dimple wasn’t attractive.

“How do we get up there? A-Si said we can climb up by stepping on the rocks, but they’re really slippery.” He looked up at the small waterfall. After years of being eroded by the water, the surrounding rocks had become quite smooth; just looking at them, he could tell he’d slide right off if he stepped on them.

Even if Mang Jiu could carry him up, he wouldn’t dare attempt such a dangerous maneuver—especially since he had two kids in his backpack. What if something went wrong?

“Is there a path we can take around it?” He looked left and right and noticed a distinct cliff face. Although the waterfall in the middle—between the upstream and downstream sections—wasn’t very large, the mountain wall stretched for a long distance. Getting around it would likely be quite a hassle.

Mang Jiu said, “Up there is the edge of the Black Forest. If we cross the entire Black Forest, we’ll reach the Ivory Tribe.” He raised his hand and pointed. “There’s a path over there that goes around, but it’ll take a bit longer.”

Zhang Shuguang grabbed his wrist and said earnestly, “Let’s take the detour. We might even find something to eat over there.”

Mang Jiu had no objection; instead, he grabbed Zhang Shuguang’s wrist in return. “Stay close to me—the path is rough.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile and gave his backpack a little shake. The two little ones meowed and chirped.

“Daddy, we’re not scared!”

“They’re really cute, and so well-behaved,” Zhang Shuguang looked up at Mang Jiu. “Don’t you think our little ones are especially well-behaved?”

Mang Jiu thought of the kids living in the big cave in the tribe and compared them to his own two. He had to admit that his kids were very well-behaved and obedient. At least he hadn’t noticed Nai Dou and Tang Dou digging holes in the cave or peeing and pooping wherever they pleased. The kids in the big cave were a different story—so many of them dug holes everywhere, no matter how many times others told them not to.

Recalling how the Shaman had once lost his temper over the little ones’ habit, he nodded. “They really are well-behaved.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled broadly. Excellent—he loved hearing his kids praised.

After walking for about an hour, they finally rounded the bend and reached the uphill slope.

The view suddenly opened up. Zhang Shuguang looked up in surprise, gazing at the tall, slender trees before him. Their leaves were oval-shaped—green, tapering at the tips and rounded at the bases—and their trunks were rough.

He leaned in to take a sniff. “It really is a cinnamon tree…”

Mang Jiu: “?”

“This bark,” Zhang Shuguang ran his hand over the bark, “can be used to stew meat. I can’t believe there are so many of them growing here. This is actually my first time seeing a cinnamon grove; I’ve only ever seen them online before.” ”

Mang Jiu didn’t understand what he was saying and just replied, “Peel it now?”

“No need. We’ll just chop one down on the way back and carry it with us. It’ll last a long time,” Zhang Shuguang said with a happy smile. He’d been a bit discouraged earlier because he hadn’t found any usable ones while walking below.

“Woo-woo, wo-wo-wo!!!”

A piercing scream echoed through the air. The two men whipped their heads around. “A wolf’s howl?”

Mang Jiu’s expression darkened as he warned Zhang Shuguang, “Be careful. A large predator is hunting.”

“Woo-woo-woo~!!!!” The wolf’s howl carried a mix of youthfulness and despair.

Zhang Shuguang’s heart sank. He grabbed Mang Jiu’s hand and said, “It’s a pup. Could it be a pup from the tribe that wandered over to play and ran into a wild beast? You go check it out. I’ll wait here for you.”

The sound didn’t seem too far away, but as an ordinary man with no strength to kill even a chicken, following after it would only cause trouble; it was better to wait here for Mang Jiu.

He pointed at the ground. “Draw a circle. I promise I won’t wander off.”

Mang Jiu nodded and drew two horizontal lines in front of his feet.