After spending four days at the salt fields, Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu returned to the tribe with several animal-hide sacks filled with sea salt. As A-Si hadn’t yet mastered his transformation, he stayed behind at the salt fields and didn’t return with them.

The other Beastmen who stayed behind were all busy at the salt flats, working with great enthusiasm every day. Even Mang Wu, who was always thinking about his soft, fluffy ones, was full of energy.

After all, this was salt they had sun-dried themselves. Once they had stockpiled enough, they would be able to trade it for goods from the outside world!

Mang Wu’s mind was racing with schemes. He wanted to stockpile as much salt as possible so he could trade it with people from other tribes for flowers and plants—that way, he could make the softies smile and, who knows, maybe they’d even treat him more gently.

Xi San also told Zhang Shuguang to pass a message to Chief Xiong Kui: it would be best if another group of Beastmen could come to help with the salt-making, so the two groups could take turns. Since the stones they’d brought back retained heat, and with the weather getting hotter lately, the stones had become significantly warmer. This meant they could use the stones to evaporate seawater even at night—as long as they stirred it frequently.

Zhang Shuguang went to the salt fields to check on the stones and found that, just as Xi San had said, they were indeed very hot. Moreover, during the day, when the sun was at its peak, as the air temperature rose, the seawater in the salt fields evaporated visibly, making the area even more humid and stifling.

Before leaving, he planted rapeseed and Chinese cabbage seeds in a plot of land not far from the salt fields. He told A-Si to keep an eye on them, weed and water them, and see if the vegetables would sprout and break through the soil faster in such high temperatures.

By the time they returned to the tribe, the sun was nearly setting. Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu went straight to find Xiong Kui. Today, Xiong Kui hadn’t gone out hunting; he was talking with Mang Da in the cave.

Mang Da had come to see him to discuss the upcoming gathering and what they should bring to trade.

“Lately, the Sub-Beastmen in the tribe have been weaving those bamboo baskets. Why not take some of those to trade?” Mang Da sat on a rock, holding a piece of meat. As he ate, he said to Xiong Kui, “Or we could take some salt to trade.”

Xiong Kui was disgusted by the sight of blood dripping from his mouth after each bite, so he kicked him with his foot. “Who in the tribe still gnaws on raw meat these days? Everyone roasts or boils it before eating. What’s wrong with you?”

Mang Da shoved the last bite of meat into his mouth, wiped the blood smeared on his lips, and said, “My sub-beastman can’t roast meat. It tastes awful. It’s better to just eat it raw.”

Xiong Kui shook his head and sighed. “All you do is smell the aroma of roasted meat. Why don’t you go learn how to cook it yourself? Are you waiting for Shuguang to teach you one by one?” He knew full well how the sub-beastmen in the tribe thought—they assumed that just by picking the same herbs as Shuguang, they could roast meat perfectly. They didn’t even bother to see how much effort he put in before roasting it.

Mang Da pursed his lips. “I told him to come learn from Shuguang when he gets back—at least so he can cook the meat through.”

“What did you tell me?” Zhang Shuguang poked his head out of the cave, smiling as he waved his hand. “We’re back. We brought quite a bit of salt. Chief, come take a look.”

Xiong Kui jumped to his feet in delight and strode out. “You’re back pretty early. How much salt did you bring?” By the time he finished asking, he was already standing outside the cave, where he spotted the animal-skin bags lying on the ground.

“Is that all salt?” Xiong Kui tapped the bags with his hand, producing two thuds.

He opened the sack and looked at the snow-white sea salt inside. He couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. “Good, really good, really good!”

“This salt should be enough to feed the entire tribe for a week—that is, seven days,” Zhang Shuguang said. “Brother Xi San mentioned he’d like the chief to send more beastmen over to the salt flats so they can work day and night to produce salt.”

Xiong Kui asked, “Is it convenient to dry the salt?”

Zhang Shuguang explained the salt-drying process to him, then told him why Xi San wanted more beastmen sent over. Xiong Kui listened, nodding repeatedly. “Alright, I’ll send them over first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll have to find someone who is both hardworking and tight-lipped.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded, then glanced at Mang Jiu before finally asking Xiong Kui, “Chief, have the people from the Ivory Tribe left?”

“They’re gone,” Xiong Kui snorted. “They thought they could come here and try to pull the wool over my eyes with some glowing bead? Do they think I’m that easy to fool? I know exactly what Xiang Tian is up to.”

Zhang Shuguang gave him a thumbs-up.

Xiong Kui patted him on the shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to take Mang Jiu away from you.” Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched, and his smile froze on his face.

Mang Jiu nodded from the side, “Right.”

Zhang Shuguang turned and glared at him. “Just because you don’t speak doesn’t mean anyone thinks you’re mute.”

Xiong Kui burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re getting shy now? You’d better get your health in order before the rainy season hits. Once it does, you’ll be laying eggs.”

“……” Zhang Shuguang pressed his hand to his forehead. No matter how healthy he was, he couldn’t lay eggs! Wait, how did the conversation veer off track like this?

“Chief, I’m heading back. You guys keep chatting.” Zhang Shuguang didn’t want to continue this topic with them—and to avoid being teased any further—so he picked up the cubs and returned to the cave.

Mang Jiu didn’t leave; he still had something to discuss with Xiong Kui.

Since he hadn’t been there for a few days, the cave was a bit damp. Zhang Shuguang lit a fire and warmed things up inside, then took two strips of dried meat to Ying’s cave.

Lang Qing was in the cave; the three of them were having dinner.

Ying had followed Zhang Shuguang’s method to render fat from the pork. Usually, when stewing meat, she would first sauté it in oil in a stone pot before adding water and salt—the flavor was quite good.

Seeing him arrive, Li greeted him happily, “Why do you always bring us things?”

“Aunt Ying has been a huge help to me, so of course I had to bring something to thank you.” Zhang Shuguang handed the meat to him, then greeted Ying and Lang Qing. Ying waved with a smile, “You just got back? Stay and have a bite to eat.”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “I just came by to let you know I won’t be going far for a while, so you don’t have to get up early every day to water the fields for me. I can do it myself.”

“Your vegetables have all sprouted and are growing beautifully,” Ying said. “I also planted the seedlings from those wooden pots, and they’ve all taken root.”

Zhang Shuguang could no longer contain his restlessness. “You two go ahead and eat. I won’t bother you anymore. Thanks, Aunt Ying.”

He turned to Li and said, “If you don’t have anything to do tomorrow, come with me. I want to make some pottery, and I need you to help me dig up some clay.” Li nodded. “Sure, I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

Zhang Shuguang said, “If I’m not in the cave, go look for me by the stream behind the mountain.”

“Okay!” Li walked him out of the cave. “I’ll try to get there early so we can walk together.” Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “Go back and eat now. Tomorrow night, I’ll teach you how to make jerky.” 

Li’s eyes lit up. “Great! Great!”

Zhang Shuguang said goodbye to him and returned to the cave.

He wanted to check on his plot of land. It had been a few days since he’d seen it, and although Ying had said everything was fine, he wouldn’t feel at ease until he saw it with his own eyes. It hadn’t been easy to get those seeds, so he had to be a little more careful.

The three little ones gathered around him, rubbing against him. Zhang Shuguang patted each one in turn. “Go play on your own. Daddy’s going to the fields to see if there’s anything good to eat.”

Tangdou’s wings had fully healed. She flew over and perched firmly on Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder, her little claws clutching his leather vest—the message was clear: she wanted to come along. Naidou wiggled his little bottom as he lunged at him, his front paws hooking onto Zhang Shuguang’s leather pants while his back legs kicked wildly.

Zhang Shuguang helplessly reached out to support his fluffy bottom, lifting Naidou up a bit.

Maodou stood up straight as well, clinging to his leg and whining.

Zhang Shuguang sighed, crouched down to set the cubs on the ground, and gently patted both of them on the head. “You can come along, but you can’t cause trouble.” Naidou tilted his head, and Maodou wagged his tail.

Don’t let the fact that he’s a wolf fool you—his tail might not be very nimble, but he can still wag it.

“Come on, let’s go tell your dad first.” Bending down to pick up both pups, he turned his head to rub his face against Tangdou, who was perched on his shoulder. With a smile, Zhang Shuguang set off to find Mang Jiu.

Inside Xiong Kui’s cave, Mang Jiu was explaining his plans to Xiong Kui.

“I’m not comfortable leaving Shuguang on his own.”

Xiong Kui and Mang Da both watched him nervously, afraid he might say he wouldn’t be joining the hunting party.

Mang Jiu glanced at them and said, “He goes to the back mountain every day. It’s not far, but you both know just how much work he puts in.” The two nodded in agreement; it was true—it would be hard to find a sub-bastman in the tribe who worked harder than Shuguang.

It wasn’t that the tribe’s sub-beastmen were lazy; rather, after each outing with the foraging party, they tended to become lethargic upon returning, whether they had tasks to do or not. Someone like Zhang Shuguang, who packed his entire day from the moment he woke up, was truly a rarity.

Mang Jiu said, “Have the underage Beastmen in the tribe tag along when they’re free to help out with some chores.” After speaking, he paused to think, then added: “When I’m not around.”

He actually wanted to have a sub-beastman tag along, but remembering how the young sub-beastmen in the tribe were always running off to play, Mang Jiu changed the words that were already on the tip of his tongue.

Mang Da’s eyes lit up. “Have Mang Qiqi come along!”

Mang Qiqi was Mang Da’s only beastman child, thirteen years old this year, at that lively age where he had to wrap himself around everything he saw.

Xiong Kui said, “It’s not a good idea for me to assign someone on my own. You know how capable Shuguang is—if I assign someone unreliable to follow him, they might end up causing trouble instead.”

Mang Da pounded his chest. “My Mang Qiqi is exceptionally capable!”

Mang Jiu gave him a skeptical look, but Mang Da nodded at him. “Absolutely no problem!”

Xiong Kui said, “Ask Zhang Shuguang what he thinks. See how many people he wants to bring.” In truth, he had his own motives—he hoped Zhang Shuguang could teach some of the tribe’s people how to farm and cure meat. Now that they no longer lacked salt, they could preserve as much meat as they wanted.

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Xiong Kui grabbed Mang Jiu’s hand, his face serious and his eyes reddening. “You must treat Shuguang especially well. If he decides not to stay in the tribe because of you, I’ll definitely kick you out too!”

Mang Jiu was baffled by his outburst and pulled his hand away in disgust. “Of course I’ll be good to him.”

Mang Da asked from the side, “Mang Jiu, how about this: let Mang Qiqi tag along with Shuguang and help him with chores. Just give him a little food now and then—Mang Qiqi doesn’t eat much!”

Just as they were talking, Zhang Shuguang walked over. He heard the remark about not eating much, thought for a moment that he hadn’t been eating much at every meal lately, and said, “I don’t have a big appetite; eating until I’m eighty percent full is enough for me.”

The three turned to look at him. Zhang Shuguang froze for a moment, blinked, and asked uncertainly, “Didn’t you just say I eat little?”

“You do eat very little,” Xiong Kui replied with a smile, glancing at the children he was holding. “The kids all eat more than you do.”

Zhang Shuguang thought of his own three kids’ appetites and nodded with a smile. “I was planning to take them out to the fields. We can pick some Xiao Cai to make soup.”

Mang Jiu: “I’ll go with you.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “No…”

“Don’t go. I still have something to tell you. Let Mang Qiqi go with Shuguang,” Mang Da interrupted Zhang Shuguang’s impending refusal, turning his head and grinning at Zhang Shuguang. “Let my kid go with you. I’ll go get him right now. It’ll be done in a flash.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than he slipped away without giving anyone a chance to react. Zhang Shuguang blinked, feeling as though Mang Da had just glided out of the room.

He didn’t really mind whether he had company or not, though. He hadn’t wanted Mang Jiu to come along just now; he’d simply wanted Mang Jiu to boil some water first. Since he had to wait a while anyway, he found a rock to sit on. Not seeing Hua, he looked at Xiong Kui and asked, “Where’s Sister Hua?”

Xiong Kui nodded toward the stack of woven bamboo backpacks in the corner. “Ever since you taught Hua how to weave bamboo baskets, she’s been weaving whenever she has a moment—and teaching others, too. I bet she’s off in someone’s cave teaching people how to weave baskets again.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly and nodded. “That’s great. The bamboo baskets Sister Hua weaves are much more durable than the ones I make.”

Xiong Kui was naturally pleased to hear his partner praised, but he still felt compelled to grumble, “She’s weaving baskets day in and day out—she doesn’t even cook properly anymore.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, “If you’d just stop grinning from ear to ear, I might actually believe that.” It took no more than a couple of sentences before Mang Da returned with his son.

Zhang Shuguang turned his head and saw a round-faced young boy following behind Mang Da. He had fair, delicate skin and soft, white, shoulder-length hair, looking quite well-behaved.

Recalling the connection between the Beastmen’s hair color and their beast forms, Zhang Shuguang guessed that the boy’s beast form must be a white snake.

Although he wasn’t as afraid of Mang Jiu’s beast form as he used to be—thanks to having eaten one of his scales—the thought of other serpentine forms… Never mind, never mind. He couldn’t think about it; it was too scary.

Zhang Shuguang smiled as he watched the father and son walk toward him. Mang Da reached back and yanked Mang Qiqi toward him, then roughly shoved him in front of Zhang Shuguang. “This kid’s cute and hardworking. From now on, if you have any chores, just have him do them.”

Zhang Shuguang looked at him with a bewildered expression. “Huh?”

Mang Qiqi looked at Zhang Shuguang with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, edging back a little. He’d heard a lot about Zhang Shuguang, but this was the first time he’d seen him up close. He actually looked pretty good.

He sneakily glanced at Mang Jiu, quickly looking away after just a single glance, only to find himself unable to resist stealing another peek.

To those in the know, this was simply admiration for his uncle; to those in the dark, it might have looked like the little guy had a crush on Mang Jiu and couldn’t help but keep stealing glances.

Mang Jiu turned to look at Mang Qiqi, who immediately hid behind Mang Da, his fair little face flushed bright red. Zhang Shuguang found it amusing.

Mang Da slapped his son on the back, looking exasperated, “You were all excited just a moment ago. Why are you too shy to speak now that you see someone?” Mang Qiqi clung limply to his father’s arm, looking as if he wanted to wrap himself around him right there on the spot.

Zhang Shuguang asked Mang Da with a smile, “Brother Mang, do you want him to come with me?”

“Yeah. If Mang Jiu goes out hunting, let him tag along with you and help out. He doesn’t eat much—just give him a bite of whatever you’re cooking.” Mang Da rubbed his hands together, a sincere smile on his face. “What do you think? Is that okay?”

Zhang Shuguang thought about what he’d been wanting to do lately, plus the fact that A-Si wouldn’t be back anytime soon, and Li couldn’t possibly stick with him all the time. Besides, the three kids needed someone to play with. No matter how he looked at it, Mang Qiqi seemed like a good fit.

He nodded. “Sure. Things might get a bit hectic for me from now on, so I’ll definitely make sure he eats well—but I can’t guarantee he’ll be full.” Although Mang Da had said his son didn’t eat much, Zhang Shuguang knew from experience that even if he claimed to eat little, it was still far more than Zhang Shuguang himself could manage. So he doubted he’d be able to guarantee the boy would ever be full.

Mang Da shrugged indifferently. “Just let him taste the food you cook for him from time to time. When he’s got nothing else to do, let him go hunting on his own.” 

Zhang Shuguang froze, glancing at Mang Jiu before turning back to Mang Da. “Won’t it be dangerous for him to hunt by himself?”

“It’s fine. That’s how we all grew up.” Mang Da waved his hand dismissively. “There aren’t any big beasts near the tribe. He knows how to hunt smaller ones.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed. Since the boy’s father had gone to such lengths, it would seem unreasonable for him to keep making excuses. Besides, judging by Mang Jiu’s demeanor, it seemed the idea of having someone accompany him had come from Mang Jiu himself.

“Then I’ll take him out to get acclimated first,” he said, hugging the furry cub close and standing up. “Come on, Qi, follow me to the back of the mountain.” Mang Qiqi nodded, spotted the backpack sitting nearby, grabbed it, and then followed closely behind Zhang Shuguang as they walked out of the cave. Zhang Shuguang walked to the cave entrance and turned back to say to Mang Jiu, “Boil some hot water later. I need to cook the meat that’s been out in the sun.”

Mang Jiu nodded. “Okay.”

The little paws of Tangdou on Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder twitched, then the furry little creature crouched down, pressing its body tightly against his ear. Naidou and Maodou were cradled in Zhang Shuguang’s arms, sitting quietly and not moving a muscle.

Ever since those two brothers groomed each other last time, their bond has been incredibly strong. They groom each other every night before bed. Plus, Maodou has been eating well these past few days—he’s visibly grown and is now a whole size bigger than Naidou.

Naidou had actually grown quite a bit, too, but compared to Maodou, perhaps kittens of the Giant Cat Tribe simply matured more slowly. Mang Qiqi followed Zhang Shuguang’s retreating figure, keeping pace with every step.

Zhang Shuguang stopped and turned to look at him. Mang Qiqi quickly halted and looked up at him. “Hmm, Qi, how old are you?”

Mang Qiqi blushed, lowered his head, and whispered, “Thirteen… thirteen snow seasons.” 

“Thirteen years old, huh?” Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “Don’t be so shy.”

Mang Qiqi sniffed, his face growing even redder. “I’m not… I’m not shy.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, If you’re not shy, why are you blushing? You’re even stuttering from nervousness.

But he didn’t say anything else and hurried down the mountain just as the sun was setting.

At the experimental field, Zhang Shuguang gazed at the expanse of green with eyes full of delight. He really wanted to let out a couple of loud shouts to release the excitement in his heart.

Afraid of startling the young boy beside him, Zhang Shuguang tiptoed along, taking tiny, quick steps as he hopped along the path made of packed earth, observing the sprouting plants as he went.

The cabbages and chili peppers planted first had sprouted the best, and the potato leaves were growing well too—especially the cabbages, which already had small leaves. Zhang Shuguang inspected each one and found that every sprouted plant was growing quite well, but they were a bit too close together.

He looked around, thought for a moment, and said to Mang Qiqi, “Do me a favor.”

Mang Qiqi nodded and set the basket he was holding onto the ground. “What can I do?”

“You see that empty patch over there?” Zhang Shuguang pointed. “Cut all the grass there, then set it on fire.”

Mang Qiqi clearly hadn’t expected the task to be so simple. With a nod, he instantly transformed right on the spot. Although his serpentine form wasn’t particularly massive, it was still larger than the pythons found on Earth.

Light gray patterns were imprinted on its silvery-white scales. Zhang Shuguang cautiously took a step back. Although he still felt a bit uneasy, he had to admit that this little white creature was quite beautiful.

The silvery-white snake raised its head, curled its tail tip, and pointed toward the overgrown weeds nearby. “How big do you want it?” Zhang Shuguang replied, “About the size of this area will do.”

Qi, the python, wriggled its body and darted into the tall grass, beginning to roll around.

Rolling around alone wouldn’t be enough to pull all the weeds out by the roots, so it also started whipping its tail, making loud thudding sounds. Zhang Shuguang scratched his face. Actually, he’d meant for the young boy to use a hoe to cut the grass, but it seemed the snake had misunderstood…

Oh well, since he’s already started, let it be. As long as the result is the same, it doesn’t matter.

Zhang Shuguang pulled out the weeds that had just sprouted in the field, then found a few thick branches to stick next to the cucumber seedlings. Since cucumbers climb, they needed a trellis.

Mang Qiqi flopped down, covered in mud, then proudly curled his snake tail and asked Zhang Shuguang, “Is this okay?”

“Alright, light it up.” Zhang Shuguang glanced at the ground, which was littered with weeds—a mix of withered yellow and tender green.

No sooner had he spoken than Mang Qiqi suddenly began writhing its thick, long body with great excitement, slithering in a rapid S-shape and darting off a good distance away in an instant.

“What the—?” he shouted in confusion.

“To start a fire, yee-haw, yee-haw!” Mang Qiqi’s voice grew fainter and fainter.

Zhang Shuguang looked down at the dry wooden plank he’d brought in his backpack. He usually used this plank to start fires, and it was already riddled with several black holes.

He sighed, paying no mind to the young boy’s excitement. He squatted down to start a fire himself. Once the fire was lit, he brought over some grass to burn. Because the air was more humid than before, the grass didn’t catch fire as easily as it used to, and it produced a lot of smoke as it burned.

Zhang Shuguang frowned and extinguished the grass he had just lit.

“Not going to burn it anymore?” Mang Jiu had walked up beside him at some point; seeing his action, he couldn’t help but ask.

Zhang Shuguang startled, patting his wildly pounding heart. “All this thick smoke might choke the tribe again,” he said helplessly. “Qiqi has already pulled up most of the grass on the ground. Why don’t you transform and go dig up the rest?”

Mang Jiu nodded, pulled off his leather skirt, and tossed it into the basket beside him, then transformed right on the spot. A massive, thick serpent appeared beside him, and Zhang Shuguang swallowed hard.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’ve already ridden it—what’s there to be afraid of!”

Mang Jiu’s upper body didn’t move at all; he simply raised his thick, long tail and slammed it down with all his might. When Qiqi had pounded the ground earlier, the sound had been thud, thud, thud.

But when Mang Jiu slammed it down, it was a thunderous “BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.”

And accompanying the deafening roar was the ground shaking.

Not only was Zhang Shuguang startled, but the people living on the mountain were also frightened.

“What’s going on! Is the ground shaking?”

“Quick, quick, quick! Get out of the cave!”

“How could an earth dragon be turning over? The mountain is shaking!” 

“Quick, bring the Shaman out!”

The shouts from the front of the mountain carried all the way to the back. Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched several times, and he covered his face with both hands.

How was he supposed to explain this to the people of the tribe?

It was just that Mang Jiu had helped him turn the ground upside down; it wasn’t an earthquake.

Mang Jiu slammed a few of his tails down. Although he’d controlled his strength, the ground still cracked. Without waiting for Zhang Shuguang to say a word, he used his tail to level out the uneven ground and thoughtfully left a few rows of footpaths, mimicking the layout of the experimental fields nearby.

The massive snake head lazily turned toward Zhang Shuguang. “Is this okay?” Zhang Shuguang gave him a thumbs-up. “You’re a genius.”

Just as Mang Jiu began its transformation and struck the ground for the first time, the thick, silvery-white snake had already slithered back, a piece of wood clenched in its jaws. However, upon seeing the wooden plank Zhang Shuguang had placed at his feet, it paused, realizing it had been a bit too excited and had missed what Zhang Shuguang had said afterward.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, he set the piece of wood aside and flicked his tongue.

Then, the sight of Mang Jiu tearing up the ground scared him—truly scared him—so much that he didn’t dare move a muscle.

He rarely saw Mang Jiu in his beast form. It seemed to have been during the last snow season when Mang Jiu shed his skin in the great forest; only after Mang Jiu had left did the kids dare to go over and gawk at that massive snake skin. Back then, Mangqiqi had crawled right into the shed skin, his heart and eyes filled with nothing but admiration.

Truly, the tribe’s greatest warrior—even a single shed skin was so much bigger than him!

Later, Mang Qiqi secretly brought that snake skin back to the cave, and after Mang Da discovered it, he simply hung it on the wall.

Mang Da asked him why he was hanging Mang Jiu’s snake skin instead of his own. Mang Qiqi replied, “You’re not as thick as Mang Jiu, and you’re not as long as him, so I’m not hanging yours.”

Mang Da nearly fainted from anger.

Speaking of which, after transforming back into human form, Mang Jiu asked Zhang Shuguang, “Shall we go back now?”

“I want to move some of the seedlings over here,” he tilted his head and whispered, “Judging by what’s growing over there, I’m afraid these seeds might get maximized too.”

Mang Jiu nodded slightly. “You go cook. I’ll handle this with Mang Qiqi.” 

“Can you even do that?” Zhang Shuguang eyed him skeptically.

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow, grabbed his hoe, and walked over to the sprouting corn seedlings. He gently dug up the soil, pulled out the seedlings, walked over to a nearby spot, dug a hole, planted them, covered them with soil, and gently patted it down.

When he was done, he turned to look at Zhang Shuguang. “Is that right?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded repeatedly. “Honey, you’re amazing!”

The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and he froze, but Mang Jiu didn’t see anything wrong with them. 

First of all, he didn’t understand.

Second—well, the second part didn’t matter. All he needed to know was that Zhang Shuguang was complimenting him.

Zhang Shuguang blushed for a moment, but seeing that Mang Jiu didn’t react, he silently scolded himself for being so talkative—he had to break that habit!

“You teach Mang Qiqi. Move the corn and soybeans over there. Once everything’s done, water them all together—not too much.” 

“Okay.” Mang Jiu nodded, turned around, and waved at Mang Qiqi. “Come help out.”

Mang Qiqi perked up and hurried over with an “Okay.”

Zhang Shuguang saw that they were doing a good job. Although Mang Qiqi’s movements were a bit stiff, he was following Mang Jiu’s instructions to the letter and hadn’t clumsily pulled up any of the seedlings. He nodded and praised them: “Very good. I’m going to cook. Come back for dinner once you’re done.”

Mang Jiu hummed in response, and Mang Qiqi nodded repeatedly.

Zhang Shuguang walked over to the sprouting cabbage seedlings and picked a few leaves. He shook the dirt off them and muttered to himself, “At this rate, if the temperature holds, we’ll get two harvests from this plot.”

Humming “We common folk are truly happy today, we common folk, truly happy today!” he walked up the mountain, feeling cheerful.

“Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, would you like me to settle your mission rewards?”

Zhang Shuguang: “No need. Just keep it to yourself. You don’t have to tell me. If I want to know, I’ll ask you.” 

Xiao Cai: “Okay, Master. Here’s a carrot seed as a reward for the app update.”

Zhang Shuguang paused in his tracks. “Hold on a second. I have something I’d like to ask you.”

Xiao Cai: “Okay, Master. Please go ahead.”

Zhang Shuguang: “I found some clay suitable for pottery, but I don’t know how to fire it. Does your app have anything related to that?”

Xiao Cai: “No, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang had actually asked on a whim, hoping there might be something after all.

Unfortunately, the Farming App had never let him down—whenever he urgently needed something, it was never there. If he asked why, it would invariably reply with just one sentence: “Because I’m a farming app!”

So Zhang Shuguang simply stopped asking why. Now, he’d ask directly when he needed something, then put the app to sleep. Zhang Shuguang: “No pottery-making? Do you have instructions for making other farming tools?”

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master. You can redeem them with points in the store.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “Forget it, then. I’ll save my points for seeds.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, aren’t you going to consider exchanging the original novel’s plot? Actually, I’ve received a little inside information.”

Zhang Shuguang set down his backpack and turned to call out to the two little rascals running behind him: “Daddy’s going to cook dinner. You two had better come help!”

Xiao Cai: “Master?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Oh, that inside info isn’t for my ears anyway. The original story can go however it wants—I don’t care.”

┑(￣Д ￣)┍ Who cares?

Xiao Cai: “Master! I can apply for free services for you.”

Zhang Shuguang knew its tricks all too well. He asked immediately, “And then what? You apply for free services, and I’m supposed to work for you for nothing?”

Xiao Cai: “Then aren’t you afraid I’ll skim off your mission rewards?”

Zhang Shuguang: “You only have a handful of daily quests. I know exactly how many power points you’ll get. Even if you dare to skim some power points, it won’t matter—I’ll find out eventually. When I do, I’ll have you by the scruff of the neck, and you’ll see how I’ll squeeze every last drop out of you!”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I wouldn’t dare. Sniffle sniffle, Master, please don’t scare me. I’m such a scaredy-cat—you could easily scare me into a system crash!” 

Zhang Shuguang: “I’m going to file a complaint.”

Xiao Cai: “……” I knew it—you never call me out of the blue for anything good!

Zhang Shuguang: “Even though you’re just a vegetable-growing app, you already have options in the points store to redeem recipes and farming tools. Why can’t you add recipes for other handmade items too?”

Xiao Cai: “…Like what?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Paper-making, tofu-making, making soybean paste, and things like that.” 

Xiao Cai: “Master, can I ask something?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Ask.”

Xiao Cai: “I can understand why you’d want to make tofu and soybean paste—at least those are edible. But what’s the point of papermaking? You aren’t seriously thinking of using a brush to record your life, are you?”

Zhang Shuguang had already walked to the mouth of the cave. He set down his backpack, then took the cured pork hanging on the wall and pulled out the gugu chicken eggs by the cave wall to examine them—there was no sign of them hatching.

He was actually a bit worried the eggs wouldn’t hatch.

Xiao Cai didn’t hear his reply and didn’t dare to ask again, so he could only wait.

After rinsing the meat, Zhang Shuguang placed the whole piece in a pot to boil and soaked the dried bamboo shoots in hot water before answering Xiao Cai: “Paper is important—very important!”

Xiao Cai: “Oh, okay, then I’ll help you file a complaint.” 

Zhang Shuguang gave a satisfied “Mm-hmm.”

He boiled the whole piece of marinated pork in hot water for a while, then took it out, washed it clean, and began slicing it.

“Sliced potatoes with cured pork, cabbage leaves with cured pork, dried bamboo shoots with cured pork,” he muttered the names of three stir-fry dishes, pausing his slicing. “Not enough to eat.”

“Shuguang! I brought you some things.” Li walked over and placed what he was holding into the bowl.

Zhang Shuguang glanced at it and smiled. “Did you dig up some sweet potatoes too?”

“Mm-hmm,” Li walked over to his side. “There aren’t many around here; I didn’t find many.”

Zhang Shuguang thanked him and immediately tossed two large sweet potatoes into the fire to roast. “What’s wrong with you?”

Li sighed, pulled a rock over, and sat down beside the hearth, holding some twigs to help tend the fire.

“Hmm?” Zhang Shuguang was amused by the look of worry on his face. As he stir-fried the meat, he asked, “Tell me about it. See if I can help you out.”

“My father,” Li pouted, “he wants me to have a child with Xiong Ye.”

Zhang Shuguang’s hand wavered as he sliced the meat, nearly stabbing his finger with the bone knife. “Who’s Xiong Ye?”

He honestly hadn’t memorized many of the Beastmen and Sub-Beastmen in the tribe; he’d probably just recognize them if he saw them.

“Xiong Ye took the cubs out on a training expedition. He’s not in the tribe. He probably won’t be back until the purple flowers bloom,” Li sighed. “I don’t know Xiong Ye well.”

Zhang Shuguang’s interest was piqued. “If you don’t know him well, why did you have a child with him?”

“Xiong Ye is the Chieftain’s eldest son and a warrior of the tribe—he’s quite formidable,” Li explained. “My father says he might become the next Chieftain.”

Zhang Shuguang went, “Oh,” and poured the oil into the pot to melt it. “What about you?”

“What about me? I don’t even really remember what he looks like, and since I don’t know him well, why would I have a child with him?” Li stuffed some dry twigs into the stove and puckered his lips. “If you met a stranger, would you just go and have a kid with them? That sounds gross.”

Zhang Shuguang really began to look at Li with new eyes.

He thought everyone here just hooked up with whoever they fancied, but he never expected Li to be the type who prefers a slow-burning romance.

“If you don’t like him, just don’t be with him. It’s not like your father can force you, is it?” Zhang Shuguang dropped the meat into the hot oil, then tossed in two cloves of garlic to fry along with it. “I think your father is worried that if you get too old, no one will want you.”

“Several Beastmen from the Gray Wolf Clan like me!” Li stuck out his chin and glared at him.

Zhang Shuguang paused, recalling what he’d discussed with Shaman Wu that day, and finally understood why Lang Qing had suddenly insisted that Li have a cub with Xiong Ye.

He sighed and pursed his lips. This was a father’s love—a pity that his son didn’t understand it.

“You might have misunderstood your father. He’s only looking out for your best interests,” Zhang Shuguang could only offer a dry, half-hearted consolation. Li snorted and refused to speak.

___

Outside the Wanshan Tribe, Aila sat on the ground, his face tilted upward, eyes filled with terror as he stared at the towering Beastman before him. His lips trembling, he asked, “You… who are you?”

The towering Beastman curled the corners of his mouth into a mischievous grin and pinched his chin. “Ooh, a sub-beastman from who knows where—and quite a pretty one at that!”

“Shi Yan, if you like him, just take him. Even if he’s a Sub-Beastman from some other tribe, it’s no big deal. Around here, we’re all just small tribes anyway. If he gets to come back with us, he’s just lucky.”

The man named Shi Yan nodded with a smile and asked, “Do you want to come with me? I’m the son of the Lion-Tiger Clan’s chieftain. My name is Shi Yan.” 

Aila’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I’ll go with you!”

Shi Yan reached out to pull him to his feet, then turned to glance at the man who had spoken earlier.

The man raised an eyebrow at him. After they’d left, he reached down and pulled up the few blades of green grass that Aila had just touched. He looked at the grass in his hand, then at the withered grass beside it, which stood in stark contrast, and chuckled softly.