While the two of them were talking outside, the Beastmen inside the cave weren’t idle either.

Mang Jiu recounted Zhang Shuguang’s idea from the previous night to dig stones from the mountaintop, and everyone agreed.

Lang Yan, being the eldest among them and the most experienced, nodded immediately upon hearing the plan and said,

“Then let’s head up the mountain right now.” The others nodded as well.

The fact that they had come here meant they weren’t lazy; before leaving their tribes, the elders had repeatedly urged them to obey orders, work hard, and not try to cut corners.

With Mang Jiu watching, they wouldn’t dare slack off—just look at Mang Wu, usually the craftiest of the bunch, sitting there quietly with his eyes half-closed.

“What should we do?” Lang Mu looked at Mang Jiu.

They couldn’t all go up to the top to dig stones; if they did, going back and forth up and down the mountain would take too much effort, and the stone slabs would shatter if dropped from such a height.

Mang Jiu thought for a moment and said, “Pass the word: once the top group finishes digging, they hand the slabs to the group below, and so on, passing them down one by one.” 

“Brilliant!” Lang Mu clapped his hands. “That saves a lot of energy.”

Mang Jiu gave a noncommittal “Hmm.”

“Who’s going up the mountain to dig? What kind of stones do we need?” Xiong Bai sniffed the aroma wafting through the air and couldn’t help but swallow. “Um, can we eat first before we start working?”

Mang Jiu shot him a fierce glare.

Xiong Bai shrank his neck, but still held fast to his desire for a meal. For a meal made by Shuguang, he’d be willing to take a beating—let alone just a glare!

Hearing his words, the others also looked at Mang Jiu with pleading eyes. “Yes, just give us a meal, and we’ll dig up every last stone today!”

Mang Jiu was seething, but even though he didn’t want to, he didn’t refuse. Refusing wouldn’t have done any good anyway—Zhang Shuguang was already shouting from outside the cave. “Are you awake yet? If you’re awake, come over and eat!”

The crowd let out a loud cheer and scrambled toward the cave entrance, acting as if they weren’t the ones who’d gone hunting yesterday and eaten a huge pile of meat.

Lang Mu smiled and patted Mang Jiu on the shoulder. “They’re still young.”

Mang Jiu snorted. “Young my ass! The older ones aren’t much more restrained either.”

Zhang Shuguang saw the group of Beastmen rushing out and pointed disdainfully at the nearby hot spring cave. “Go wash your faces, rinse your mouths, and then come get a bowl of food.”

The group turned as one and headed off to wash up.

Then, one by one, they returned with wet hair and lined up obediently. A-Si handed out roasted potatoes, while Zhang Shuguang was in charge of serving the soup.

“This is so good!”

“It’s way better than what my mom makes!”

“Right, my mom tried to make stewed meat like Shuguang, but it doesn’t taste nearly as good as this!” 

“The soup is sweet, too. What’s that yellow stuff in the soup? And what’s the white stuff?”

“I don’t know. It must be something new Shuguang found to eat. As long as it tastes good, that’s all that matters.”

The sound of slurping soup filled the air. Zhang Shuguang couldn’t stop laughing. He broke the roasted sweet potato in half, giving one half to Mang Jiu and keeping the other for himself. A-Si got half as well, and the remaining half went to the three kids.

The sweet potato was large, and after roasting over the fire for so long, its skin was charred black, but the orange-yellow flesh inside was soft and sticky. When he split it open, a cloud of white steam billowed out, carrying a sweet, rich aroma.

Mang Jiu’s eyes lit up at the scent. He reached out to take it, blew on it to cool it down, and then took a bite.

A-Si took a bite as well; the sweet taste was truly more fragrant than any fruit he had ever eaten!

His eyes widened in amazement. He suddenly looked up at Zhang Shuguang and exclaimed urgently, “I’ll do whatever you ask—just give me some of these sweet potato seeds so I can grow them too!”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled, blew on the sweet potato in his hand, and took a leisurely bite. The flavor was good, though not as good as the improved varieties of later generations, and the sweetness didn’t quite reach the level of honey sweet potatoes.

But for people who had never tasted sugar, this flavor was more than enough.

Seeing A-Si staring intently at him, he nodded and replied, “Sure. You can help me plant them. I’ll tell you how to save seeds later. Let’s grow plenty—the longer sweet potatoes are stored, the sweeter they get. You can even eat them during the snowy season; just like potatoes, they keep for a long time.”

“What about yams? Can they be stored too?” asked Mang Jiu.

Zhang Shuguang hummed in acknowledgment. “From what I recall, any root vegetable that grows underground can be stored for quite a long time. Chinese yams should be fine too. Even if they don’t last too long, thirty days or so shouldn’t be a problem.”

Both men were excited, and the beastmen listening nearby widened their eyes in astonishment.

“So should we have the tribe go dig some up?”

“Right, let the harvesting team go dig them up. Dig up as many as we can and store them.”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head regretfully. “I don’t think we’ll be able to dig them up. I’ve only found this small amount here. If you want to eat them, you’ll have to grow them yourselves.” 

“Then let’s grow them! Once we’ve carried the stones back, we’ll start farming!”

“Let’s plant plenty. Last snow season, one or two of our tribe’s elders died—starved to death.” 

“That’s right. Meat is scarce during the snow season; the elders wouldn’t even eat it themselves.”

Zhang Shuguang hadn’t expected their first thought to be of the tribe’s elders; his impression of these young Beastmen improved considerably.

“We can plant them. I’ll go back and see if I can save some extra seeds. Even if we can’t plant them this time, we can still plant them after the next snow season.” He didn’t mention that he could go elsewhere to look for more. There was no point in mentioning it—if he couldn’t find any, he’d just be giving them false hope.

“Wow, you’re really something.” Zhang Shuguang had been worried these men would rely on their strength to run back and forth up and down the mountain.

He’d originally planned to bring it up after dinner when they were heading up the mountain, but he hadn’t expected Mang Jiu to solve the problem right away. It was clear he’d thought of it from the start, so he hadn’t wasted any extra time worrying about this minor issue.

“Here’s a reward!” Zhang Shuguang broke off more than half of his sweet potato and handed it to Mang Jiu, smiling at him.

“That’s great!”

A-Si nearly choked on his sweet potato. He glanced at the three kids eating beside him and couldn’t help but feel that Shuguang’s praise for Mang Jiu would have been more fitting for the kids.

Mang Jiu’s eyes betrayed a hint of exasperation. “I’m an adult now.” 

The implication was clear: he didn’t need to be coddled.

Zhang Shuguang’s smile widened as he reached out to poke him on the cheek. “You’re still younger than me. Hurry up and eat. Once you’re done, take them to dig for stones. If the guys up there get tired, you can take their place.”

Mang Jiu grunted in agreement, but he planned to dig it up himself. He didn’t want to have to explain to these people just how big it was—he’d end up having to spend extra time instructing them, which would be both a hassle and a waste of time. Besides, digging up a rock wasn’t hard; a few swipes of his tail would do the trick.

If Zhang Shuguang could read his mind, he’d surely clap his hands with a blank expression: “So what if you’re strong? So what if your tail is nimble?” 

After breakfast, Zhang Shuguang and A-Si tidied up, while Mang Jiu led the others up the mountain.

The beastmen stood at intervals, while only Mang Jiu and Mang Wu remained at the mountaintop.

“How do we dig?” The mountaintop was surprisingly flat. Mang Wu stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down, feeling a bit dizzy.

“It’s so high.”

Mang Jiu shed his beast hide and transformed into a giant python.

Its forked tongue flickered from its mouth. Coiled around its massive body, it held its head high and its tail aloft, speaking in human language: “I’ll dig the stone; you carry it down the mountain.” Even though they were of the same kind, Mang Wu was always terrified whenever he saw Mang Jiu in his beast form.

He nodded repeatedly, then couldn’t help but ask, filled with curiosity and envy, “How on earth did you grow so big?” He didn’t interact much with Mang Jiu normally, so he rarely saw his beast form. Even when he had seen it before, it hadn’t been this massive, colossal beast.

Mang Jiu raised his tail and lashed it against the ground. A thunderous boom echoed, causing the mountainside to tremble.

“I just ate a lot.”

Mang Wu steadied himself and was speechless for a moment.

“I usually eat plenty, too.” He was utterly baffled.

Mang Jiu didn’t bother with small talk. He turned his massive serpentine head to examine the crack in the ground, adjusted his position, and raised his tail to continue.

Boom, boom, boom. After the deafening roar, the entire mountaintop plateau was pockmarked with several deep cracks.

“Lift this,” he said, wrapping his tail around a boulder and passing it to Mang Wu.

Mang Wu quickly reached out; though not in beast form, he still possessed considerable strength, and catching a large boulder posed no difficulty.

He found footholds with both hands and steadily carried the massive boulder down the mountain. After walking a short distance, he handed it to Lang Yan, then returned to retrieve the second boulder handed to him by Mang Jiu,repeating the process over and over.

Zhang Shuguang and A-Si could both feel the vibrations from inside the cave; they were startled the first time it shook.

Zhang Shuguang placed the three cubs in his backpack and said to A-Si, who looked just as tense: “Grab the supplies. Let’s head down the mountain and wait. This is way too dangerous.”

He never would have imagined that Mang Jiu actually possessed the strength to shake the entire mountain. Sure, Beastmen are strong, but this was just too outrageous!

Don’t ask him how he knew it was Mang Jiu unleashing his power on the mountaintop—just look at the expressions on those young Beastmen’s faces and hear their exclamations of awe —no one but Mang Jiu could have pulled that off.

“The tribe’s greatest warrior isn’t just a title!”

“Mang Jiu is so awesome!”

“I want to be that awesome too!”

Zhang Shuguang and A-Si carried their backpacks and leather bags down the mountain. It wasn’t entirely safe at the foot of the mountain either—rocks kept tumbling down from time to time—so the two of them simply walked a bit further away, sat down on the ground, and looked up at the mountaintop.

A-Si whispered, “There’s a legend on the Southern Continent.” Zhang Shuguang turned to look at him. “What legend?”

A-Si fixed his gaze on Zhang Shuguang’s face for a moment, then shifted his eyes back up to the mountaintop. “The continent was once a single landmass, but it was split apart by war and earthquakes. Legend has it that the gods loved their people and sent a divine son to the continent. The divine son would lead the various tribes to a better life and eventually unify the continent.”

After he finished speaking, his gaze returned to Zhang Shuguang. 

Zhang Shuguang blinked and tilted his head. “And then?” 

“Do you believe it?” A-Si asked.

Zhang Shuguang shrugged and turned his gaze back to the mountaintop. “I don’t buy it. How can a fragmented continent be unified? If a god exists, why would he wait for the Chosen One to unify the continent? Couldn’t he just do it himself?”

A-Si: “……”

Zhang Shuguang curled the corners of his lips, his smile brimming with sarcasm. “I, for one, believe that if the gods were truly benevolent, they would have intervened to stop the war the moment it broke out. And if they were truly full of love, they wouldn’t ignore their people’s prayers when they’re starving.”

A-Si found his faith in the gods wavering under these words.

He should have refuted it.

A-Si told himself this, yet he found that despite the simplicity of those two sentences, he was unable to refute them.

Zhang Shuguang saw the look of inner conflict on his face, as if he didn’t know what to say, and chuckled softly, snapping his fingers in front of him. A-Si snapped back to reality and looked at him.

Zhang Shuguang smiled. “Even if God really exists, so many people are praying at the same time—what if he hears all of them? Does that mean he can handle everything all at once?“Or put another way, everyone has moments when they slack off or doze off—God isn’t omnipotent,” he murmured, his tone barely rising or falling. “Relying on anyone else is no substitute for relying on yourself. Your god doesn’t care what today’s meal tastes like, and he certainly won’t worry about how many potatoes and sweet potatoes you’ve stockpiled to get through the next snow season.”

“Got it? You little underdeveloped turtle.”

If he hadn’t ended the conversation like that, A-Si would have been utterly in awe of him. But! A-Si gritted his teeth in anger. “Can’t you speak properly?”

Zhang Shuguang shrugged, his eyes crinkling in a smile, and pointed at the mountain, which was still shaking and rumbling. “If there really were gods, they wouldn’t need to haul stones back and forth like this. Salt is such a vital resource—it’d be so much better if every tribe had their own salt mountain.”

A-Si: “……” All traces of his earlier air of mystery vanished. He realized that the thought that Zhang Shuguang might be the Son of God had truly been a crazy idea.

Zhang Shuguang set the basket he was carrying down in front of A-Si. “Watch the kids for me. I’m going to take a look.”

He got up and went down the hill to where the stones were stacked. He found that the stones Mang Jiu had split were indeed all the same size; even if the thickness varied slightly, the difference wasn’t significant.

He looked up and called out, “Xiong Bai!”

Xiong Bai happened to be standing on the platform where they’d cooked earlier. Hearing the call, he leaned over to look down.

Seeing it was Zhang Shuguang, he replied, “What’s up?”

“Throw down all the black wood left over from when I was stoking the fire earlier—every last bit of it!”

Zhang Shuguang cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. Xiong Bai gave a short “Okay,” turned to fetch the black wood, and then tossed it all down.

After picking them up, Zhang Shuguang walked back to where the stones were piled and wrote Arabic numerals—1, 2, 3, 4, 5—on each of the thicker stones.

Then, on the slightly thinner stones, he wrote the lowercase Chinese characters 一, 二, 三, 四, 五.

On the even thinner stones,he wrote the Chinese capital characters: 壹, 貳, 叁, 肆, 伍.For the smallest ones, he simply used the English letters A, B, C, D.

After dividing them into four piles, he counted the number in each pile and called out, “Tell Mang Jiu to stop digging for now! Everyone come down and take a break.”

A-Si walked over carrying a backpack, curiously examining the patterns he had drawn on the stones. It was easy to tell which ones belonged to the same category, but he didn’t know what they meant.

“Why aren’t we digging anymore?”

Zhang Shuguang tilted his chin, gesturing for him to go count them himself. “We’ve already dug up so many of these. Take a break—are you trying to wear us to death?” A-Si handed him the basket, then counted the stones and found that there were the same number of each type.

He simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed Zhang Shuguang, who was about to go find Mang Jiu,

pointed at the stones, and asked, “What’s that on top?” “Characters,” Zhang Shuguang replied, raising an eyebrow at him. “If you’re interested, I’ll teach you later.”

A-Si nodded, watching him run off to find Mang Jiu, a flicker of something in his eyes.

Just a moment ago, he’d suspected he was losing his mind, but now he felt perfectly lucid.

Mang Jiu came down from the mountain. Zhang Shuguang slung the backpack over his shoulders; the three little ones inside were huddled quietly—the earth-shaking commotion had frightened them a bit.

“Are you tired?” Zhang Shuguang handed him the water skin he was holding. “I’ll show you something.”

Mang Jiu took a sip of water and followed him to the pile of stones nearby. He spotted the writing on it at a glance.

“The characters you were talking about?”

“Yeah, numbers, characters—and the other ones, you can think of them as writing from other tribes.” Zhang Shuguang pointed over with a smile. “One, two, three, four, five, and…”

Mang Jiu chuckled, a rare moment of laughter escaping him.

“That’s so cute.”

Zhang Shuguang, caught off guard by the compliment, looked bewildered. “What? I’m just teaching you how to read them.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Mang Jiu read them back to him one by one, and surprisingly, he got them all right.

Zhang Shuguang looked at him with newfound respect. “Bro, you’re really smart.”

Mang Jiu: “You brought me down here just to teach me to read?”

Zhang Shuguang glared at him. “I didn’t want you to get tired, so I had you come down to rest a bit. And these stones should be about enough—ten per set. Did you stack them like this on purpose? They’re so evenly spaced.”

“Ten pieces?” Mang Jiu hadn’t actually paid attention to how many he’d broken. After hearing that, he counted them again.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dig a pool to bathe in? Is this enough?”

“Ah, right, I’d completely forgotten,” Zhang Shuguang scratched his head. “Then go back up and break some more later. Size doesn’t matter—just make sure they’re flat.”

Mang Jiu nodded and turned to head up the mountain.

Zhang Shuguang sighed helplessly—there really was no need to rush.

A-Si walked up beside him and nudged him with her elbow. “Where did you learn those characters?”

Zhang Shuguang turned to A-Si and said, “I know your secret, so I’ll tell you one of mine.” A-Si looked at him and nodded slightly.

Zhang Shuguang leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, “One day, I just opened my eyes and knew a lot of things.” A-Si raised his hand to slap him, clearly not believing it.

Zhang Shuguang laughed and dodged, “It’s true. I never lie.”

Mang Jiu went up to the mountaintop and smashed away again. Even though Zhang Shuguang had said they didn’t need to be very big, the stones he chiseled out were still about the same size.

Zhang Shuguang sat on the ground, cradling the two little furballs in his arms. Tangdou perched on his shoulder, her fluffy feathers brushing against his cheek, her tiny beak chirping softly.

Maodou lay sprawled across his left arm. Seeing this, Naidou tilted his body and lay down on Zhang Shuguang’s right arm, his two hind paws even kicking against Maodou’s belly.

He thoroughly enjoyed that soft, warm sensation and couldn’t resist moving his front paw over to pat them a couple of times. Maodou let out a soft “um” and kicked him with a grumble.

Naidou gave him a playful hiss, but Zhang Shuguang tugged at his whiskers. “You’re being mean to your little brother again. You think you’re in the right when you bully people?”

Naidou stuck out his little tongue and licked him, then rubbed his furry head against Zhang Shuguang’s finger.

Maodou lifted his head, watching Naidou act all cute, then suddenly leaned in and flicked his tongue across Naidou’s furry head.

In an instant, Naidou’s fur was damp.

Naidou froze for a moment, then let out a meow. The cat seemed to leap into the air and pounced on Maodou.

Zhang Shuguang thought he was going to get angry and scratch Maodou, but instead, he saw the little rascal lying on top of Maodou, his little tongue with barbs flicking back and forth as he began to lick Maodou’s fur.

Zhang Shuguang watched wide-eyed as the two cubs licked each other back and forth, their fur becoming completely damp.

Tangdou gracefully shifted her round little body a couple of times before settling down, crouching steadily. If one ignored the way her dark, beady eyes were fixed intently on the two brothers, she truly didn’t seem envious.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled, lifted Tangdou off his shoulder, and placed her between the two furry pups. Immediately, the pups shifted their focus and began licking Tangdou’s feathers.

First the wolf cub, then the kitten—Tangdou was soon soaked from head to toe.

“Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep!!!!” Tangdou poked at them with her little beak, but she still couldn’t resist the brothers’ enthusiasm. Zhang Shuguang found it amusing. “Seeing you all so close and loving like this really makes Daddy so happy.”

Tangdou chirped a few times, clearly unhappy about being all wet—and that awful smell!

A-Si sat nearby, propping his chin with one hand, and chuckled softly. “It’s really no small feat for those three to get along. I heard the cubs in the Big Cave fight every day—the Shaman even lost his temper over it.”

Zhang Shuguang suddenly realized that aside from the bunch of fur-covered kids in the Big Cave, the youngest child in the tribe seemed to be around ten years old as well—he hadn’t seen any children between the ages of three and ten.

“What about the kids who’ve just taken human form? And the young Sub-Beastmen—aren’t they raised in the tribe?”

A-Si nodded, then shook his head. “It’s not that they aren’t raised in the tribe. Beastman cubs between the ages of three and ten are taken out to practice their shape-shifting skills and to familiarize themselves with survival in the wild. Basically, they’re taken out for a period after each snow season, and then again during the rainy season. Most tribes do it this way; I don’t know the specifics—the Beastmen handle that.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded slowly. “What about the young Sub-Beastmen?”

“They’re kept in the caves. Their fathers and mothers insist these young Sub-Beastmen stay inside, afraid they’ll get hurt.” A-Si looked utterly helpless. “There aren’t many young Sub-Beastmen, and even when they do come out to play, it’s only in front of their own caves. It’s no wonder you haven’t seen any.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed and stroked the cubs in his arms. “They’re locked up in the caves.”

“It’s not exactly ‘locked up,’ though. After all, the bodies of young Sub-Beastmen are really frail, especially when they’re small. Just keeping them alive is a struggle. Last snow season, several young Sub-Beastmen died in the tribe.” A touch of sadness crossed A-Si’s face. “Even if their fathers and mothers take the greatest care of them, the young Sub-Beastmen aren’t guaranteed to grow up.”

“Why?” Zhang Shuguang didn’t understand. They’d already done their utmost to care for them, carefully hiding the children away—why couldn’t they grow up?

A-Si stared at him for a moment and asked, “You don’t know?” Zhang Shuguang looked puzzled. “What am I supposed to know?”

A-Si narrowed her eyes and snorted with a laugh. “If you admit you don’t know, then I’ll tell you.”

Zhang Shuguang searched through the little cannon fodder’s memories but found nothing regarding the young Sub-Beastmen.

However, the number of young Sub-Beastmen in the Wanshan Tribe was indeed very small—one could even call them scarce.

What’s going on?

He shook his head. “I don’t know. No one in my old tribe ever told me why they don’t grow up.”

“It’s a punishment sent down by the gods,” As said grimly. “Many young Sub-Beastmen are different from other children right from birth, and many others, even after growing to three or four years old, aren’t very bright and have weak bodies.”

Zhang Shuguang paused, then suddenly thought of something.

In this world, several tribes lived together and intermarried year-round. To put it bluntly, it was quite possible that some of them were related by blood.

The Beastman cubs born from such unions might also have defects, but these defects aren’t obvious because the Beastman bloodline is so strong; the defects might simply mean their strength isn’t as great.

But for ordinary children born of consanguineous unions, many are born with fatal defects—defects so severe they often claim their lives at a very young age.

Even genetic defects that modern medicine cannot cure—let alone in an era where medicine hasn’t even been properly established yet.

Zhang Shuguang fell silent. He had always believed he was in an ordinary novel, where there might be some intrigue here and there, but at that moment, he no longer thought so.

“Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here. What are your orders?”

Xiao Cai was well aware of Zhang Shuguang’s cold-heartedness. Even the tone of its electronic voice now carried a hint of caution, for fear of being forcibly shut down again.

Zhang Shuguang: “This is a real world—or rather, this place has become a real world.” 

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Many young Sub-Beastmen can’t grow up, or rather, the reason there are so few Sub-Beastmen is because of inbreeding, isn’t it?” 

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Is there any way to solve this problem?” 

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master. We could intermarry with other tribes.”

Zhang Shuguang was speechless. Of course he knew intermarriage was the simplest solution, but in this era where everything was so inconvenient, who would be willing to marry off a young Sub-Beastman they’d raised with such care to another tribe? Especially when there were so many eligible young and middle-aged Beastmen within the tribe itself—any parent who did so would likely be regarded by the rest of the tribe as having lost their mind.

Since Sub-Beastmen couldn’t be married off, Sub-Beastmen from other tribes wouldn’t want to marry into theirs either.

Over the years, this had become a vicious cycle. Zhang Shuguang: “Do we have any missions today?”

Xiao Cai: “Master, would you like to accept a mission today?” 

Zhang Shuguang: “Mm-hmm.”

Xiao Cai’s electronic voice sounded excited and cheerful: “Master, I’m opening today’s missions for you!”

1. Plant sweet potatoes (0/30): Reward: 10% power, 10 points, 200 experience points.

2. Plant Chinese yams (0/30): 10% power boost, 10 points, 200 experience points.

3. Plant rapeseed (0/50): 20% power, 20 points, 400 experience points.

4. Make 5 pounds of jerky: 20% power, 20 points, and 400 experience points.

…Current app experience: 2,950/3,900 points, Level 4.

Xiao Cai: “Master, should we accept the quest?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Hmm, let’s accept all the farming tasks. For the beef jerky, do I still have to hand over five pounds to the app?” Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang: “From now on, don’t even mention any quests that require me to hand over my stuff.”

Xiao Cai: “……Why, Master?”

Zhang Shuguang: “You’re a vegetable-growing app—do you really think it’s appropriate for you to take my jerky? Besides, why should your system take the food I worked so hard to grow and prepare? Don’t forget that every single seed in your app was bought with my money. Do you think that money just blew in with the wind, enough to fill a whole basket?”

Xiao Cai: “……” Once again, it was speechless.

Zhang Shuguang: “You take the vegetable seeds I bought, make me complete tasks to recharge and stay alive—it’s my choice to want to live, isn’t it? Fine, I’ll accept that.” 

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “Using the power I’ve earned to cover the system’s daily energy needs—it’s my phone, after all. I’ll accept that too.” 

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “But you also want to use the fruits of my labor to fuel your unreliable system? Do you really think I’m a sucker? If you don’t change this mission and keep taking my stuff like this, then sorry, I won’t do missions like this anymore.”

Xiao Cai：“……”

Zhang Shuguang: “You hear me? From now on, I’m skipping these kinds of missions. Don’t use me as a shield.” 

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “If there are no more farming missions in the future and all that’s left are these missions that take my stuff, then let’s just wear each other down until we die. After all, living an extra lifetime has already paid for itself. Got it?”

Xiao Cai: “……” This was the biggest crisis it had ever faced in its app career! The host would rather both of them go down together than hand over the mission items—how was this supposed to be resolved?

Zhang Shuguang didn’t pay much attention to its silence; he’d figured it out after shutting down for the first time.

He used to be like a donkey, with the app as the carrot dangling right in front of him. He worked his butt off just to earn a little battery power. And what happened?

It turns out the app had been playing mind games with him from the very beginning.

He had no idea how this thing ended up on his phone, but that didn’t stop him from fighting back.

“It’s sink or swim,” he thought, taking it in stride.

Xiao Cai was completely at a disadvantage; all he could do was relay Zhang Shuguang’s words exactly as they were. After about two minutes, Xiao Cai’s electronic voice sounded again.

Xiao Cai: “Master, the system has provided you with feedback.” Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow. “What kind of feedback?”

Xiao Cai: “You may choose not to hand in the mission items, but your rewards will be halved.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Are all rewards halved, or just the rewards for tasks requiring item submission?” 

Xiao Cai: “The rewards for tasks requiring item submission are halved.”

Zhang Shuguang was satisfied. “Alright, accept all the quests.” 

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Take fifty rapeseed seeds and put them in my hand.” Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

A small handful of seeds appeared in Zhang Shuguang’s hand. He stood up, took a few steps to the side, then flung his hand, scattering all the seeds onto the ground. Xiao Cai: “Master, what are you doing?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Planting vegetables, of course. The quest didn’t say I had to plant them in my own field. Don’t you know how the seeds of these plants and flowers spread? Since they can be carried by the wind or through animal droppings, why can’t vegetable seeds be scattered?”

Xiao Cai: “……” Once again, it was at a loss for words. What if I just quit? 

Zhang Shuguang: “Why don’t you try reporting this? Let’s see how your system responds.”

Xiao Cai: “……Okay, Master. Please wait a moment… Master, your rapeseed planting task is complete.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “Very good. Go into hibernation. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

Then it vanished in an instant. It was going to hide in a corner and curl up into a ball—having a host who snapped at the

slightest provocation really drained its energy!

Zhang Shuguang wore a look of pure satisfaction, causing A-Si to turn and look at him repeatedly. “What did you just say?”

“You saw that?” Zhang Shuguang asked with a mischievous grin.

A-Si nodded, picking up a sesame-sized seed from the ground with his finger. “What is this?”

“A seed.” Zhang Shuguang leaned forward and tapped the seed from his hand onto the ground. “Don’t touch it. If you want one, I’ll get you another later. You can’t touch this one—it’s a secret!”

“You…” A-Si’s eyes widened. He was certain Zhang Shuguang hadn’t had these seeds in his hand before; they seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

No, not “seemed”—they really had appeared out of thin air.

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes crinkled and the corners of his mouth turned up as he raised his index finger to his lips. “Shh, you have to keep this a secret for me.” A-Si nodded slowly, his eyes wide with astonishment.

It seemed as though he had truly discovered something extraordinary.

But when he thought about what Shuguang had said regarding the gods, something still didn’t quite feel right. His mind was filled with questions.

Meanwhile, Mang Jiu came down from the mountain. The last batch of stones had been piled up at the foot of the mountain; he counted them—there were ten as well.

“Shuguang, shall we head back now?”

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at him and replied, “Sure!”

But the moment he said “Okay,” a raindrop suddenly struck him right on the forehead.

He froze for a moment, tilting his face upward to look at the sky. He hadn’t noticed when the sky had grown so overcast.

“It’s raining!” someone shouted—the voice brimming with delight. Zhang Shuguang held out his arm with his palm facing upward, and raindrops began to patter into his hand.

“Let’s take shelter first. We’ll head back once the rain stops.”

Mang Jiu nodded and pulled him along as they hurried toward the cave where they had been staying.

When they entered the cave, however, the Beastmen were still cheering down below, and several had even shifted into their beast forms. Zhang Shuguang asked in confusion, “What are they doing?”

“It’s the first rain after the snow melts—they’re happy. After the rain, it’ll get hotter and hotter, and there’ll be more game,” Mang Jiu explained. “Tribes with shamans hold rituals after the first rain to thank the gods for bringing us this feast.”

Zhang Shuguang listened to his words and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mang Jiu, do you believe in the gods?”

Before Mang Jiu could speak, he added, “My existence is not a gift from your gods.” Mang Jiu’s pupils contracted slightly, puzzled by why he had suddenly said such a thing.

Having witnessed Zhang Shuguang’s uniqueness and learned his secret, Mang Jiu had become even more convinced that it was the gods who had brought him here. But now, Zhang Shuguang himself was denying the existence of the gods.

Zhang Shuguang tilted his head back, his tone unusually serious. “Even if there really is a god, you shouldn’t rely on him. Gods make mistakes sometimes, too.” 

Mang Jiu didn’t quite understand what he meant, but he nodded anyway. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled. “I’ll make sure the people you care about live better lives. I promise.” 

Mang Jiu pinched his cheek. “Mm, I believe you.”

After a simple meal, Zhang Shuguang sat on the stone slab. Inside the cave, it was just him and Mang Jiu; everyone else was outside in the rain, including A-Si. The three little pups, having eaten their fill, had already curled up nearby and were fast asleep.

“Xiao Cai, I want my phone.”

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master.”

A black phone appeared in Zhang Shuguang’s hand. Mang Jiu saw it and was surprised, but didn’t ask. Zhang Shuguang raised his hand in a beckoning gesture.

“Come here. I want to show you something.”

Mang Jiu sat down beside him, completely shielding him from view. People entering the cave from outside couldn’t see what the two of them were doing. Zhang Shuguang thanked him for his consideration, then opened the photo album.

“Let me introduce you to my family.”