The Lion-Tiger Clan is actually composed of Beastmen from the Golden Lion Clan and the Golden Tiger Clan, and is also known as the Rock Forest Tribe.

The name derives from their location: the junction of the Rocky Plains and the Longleaf Forest, on the east bank of the Jiangling River. Across the river lies the Long-armed Monkey Clan within the Longleaf Forest.

Because the area is rich in natural resources, numerous tribes of all sizes have gathered here. However, this has led to conflicts—today you steal my prey, tomorrow I uproot your fruit trees, and so on. Although no bloodshed has occurred, the atmosphere is far from harmonious.

The Golden Lion Tribe and the Golden Tiger Tribe have lived together for a century. Within their tribes, some Beastmen have awakened their giant beast forms, and combined, the two tribes number several dozen giant beasts.

Chieftain Shi Quan is a Giant Lion. His favorite pastime is transforming into his beast form, standing atop a massive boulder, and letting out a mighty roar that echoes far and wide—a warning to the surrounding tribes to demonstrate his formidable strength.

However, in most of the settled tribes here, there are at least three or five Beastmen who have awakened as Giant Beasts. So, while they are annoyed by Shi Quan’s occasional roars, they do not truly fear him.

They had lived like this for many years; their initial unease and speculation about whether the Lion-Tiger Clan intended to attack them had given way to their current indifference.

Aila followed Shi Yan as they left the Wanshan Tribe; he felt not the slightest bit of attachment to that small tribe.

Ever since discovering he possessed the divine power to accelerate crop growth, the chief of the Wanshan Tribe had constantly demanded that he ripen the seeds to produce more food so the tribe could eat their fill.

Aware of his special ability, the Beastmen of the tribe gradually grew lazier and less willing to venture out on hunting expeditions. They all claimed that since Aila could ensure the tribe had enough to eat, going out to hunt was too dangerous, so they reduced the frequency of their outings. On several occasions, even when they encountered large beasts during hunts—beasts they could have killed with their combined strength—they chose to abandon the hunt.

They even made up an excuse, claiming that hunting large beasts was too dangerous. Since their tribe was already small, they couldn’t afford any unnecessary casualties. With Aila’s seed-producing ability, they reasoned, it didn’t matter if they went without a bit of meat.

Aila’s divine power made him highly sought after, but it also placed him in a dilemma.

Every time he activated the seeds, Aila needed to absorb a massive amount of life force. The chieftain noticed this but didn’t care; instead, he would capture small beasts and bring them back, forcing Aila to absorb their life force while they were still alive.

Watching those still-living prey waste away and die in his hands, watching their corpses gradually wither and shrivel, Aila broke down and wept.

In truth, he was terrified of his own power. He feared that one day he would lose control, that the small beasts would be unable to provide enough life force—and that, when that happened, others might meet the same fate as the Shuguang, killed by his own hand.

Today, when the chief once again demanded that Aila force the seeds to sprout, he ran away.

Aila, who had originally just wanted to get some fresh air and clear her head while thinking about what to do next, ran into Shiyuan and the others, who were out hunting. Shi Yan offered to take him away, and Aila naturally went with him.

He had resolved never to use his powers again, but he didn’t realize that in his nervousness, he had caused several weeds to sprout, drawing their attention. 

That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Shi Yan stepped out of the large cave where they were staying, and before long, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

He turned his head to look at the beastman approaching him, curled the corners of his mouth into a smile, and said, “You really are quite clever.”

The Beastman was none other than Hu Ming, the one who had noticed the changes in the weeds earlier; he usually hunted in the same pack as Shi Yan.

Hu Ming gave a soft snort and handed him the blades of grass he was holding. “Didn’t you take him because you saw how special he was, too?”

Shi Yan raised an eyebrow, then casually slung his arm over Hu Ming’s shoulder in a friendly gesture, but didn’t take the blades of grass.

“What do you think is going on with him?”

Huming tossed the grass onto the ground and snorted. “Legend says a Divine Child has descended upon the Eastern Continent. Do you think he might be that Divine Child?”

“You actually believe that legend? The tribe’s Shaman said the same thing back when we were just kids. Now that the Shaman’s dead, it’s hard to say if he’s really the Divine Son.” Shi Yan curled his lip, dismissing the idea with a scoff.

However, both of them knew that the sub-beastman was special. As for exactly how special, they would have to observe him for a while longer. Hu Ming nudged Shi Yan and teased, “Why don’t you have a cub with him? He might just tell you everything.”

Shi Yan shot him a glare. “There are plenty of people who want to have a kid with me, but I certainly don’t want some guy who ran off from a small, remote tribe.”

Hu Ming knew better than anyone what Shi Yan was like—he’d say he didn’t want it, but in practice, he’d go all out.

Though they weren’t from the same clan, they’d grown up together and hunted in the same pack. You could basically say, “I know you, and I know your thoughts.”

“By the way, has the Chief mentioned anything to you about this gathering?” Hu Ming found a rock to sit on, stuffed the grass leaf in his hand into his mouth, and chewed it. “I heard from my mom that a lot of tribes will be coming this time.

Hu Ming’s mother was a Beastman and held great prestige within the Golden Tiger Clan; the clan chieftain was a female Beastman. Hu Ming’s mother and the chieftain were blood sisters.

“So what if they come? It’s definitely about the Salt Mountain tribe. My father’s going there to trade for salt this time—he said they’ll only give a small bag of salt in exchange for two male giant boar beasts.” Shi Yan snorted coldly. “That Sand Crocodile Tribe doesn’t give a damn about other tribes!”

“Have you heard the Chief mention that tribe by the sea?” Hu Ming turned to look at him. “I heard they’re coming too.”

“The Cliff Shore Tribe?” Shi Yan licked his lips and lowered his voice. “I’ve heard their tribe is made up entirely of Giant Beasts—even the little ones are Giant Beasts.”

“That can’t be,” Hu Ming frowned. “Who told you that?”

“My father. He ran into some people from the Cliff Shore Tribe when he went to trade for salt this time, and he even invited them to come to the gathering.” Shi Yan scratched his cheek,

“Father said there’s even a Shaman in their tribe.”

“A Shaman?” Hu Ming raised his voice in surprise. “How could there still be a Shaman? Didn’t they say all the shamans were already dead?”

Shortly after the Shamans in their own tribe died, they visited the surrounding tribes and discovered that Shamans in every tribe were dying one after another—some from illness, some from old age. Later, they asked every tribe they could find, and the answer was always the same: there were no Shamans left.

Shi Yan reached out and clamped his hand over Hu Ming’s mouth, glaring at him. “Keep your voice down! Father told me not to let this get out!” 

“Mmmph!” Hu Ming’s eyes widened as he slapped the back of Shi Yan’s hand.

Shi Yan let go of his hand and glared at him. “You mustn’t let this get out.”

Hu Ming nodded, furrowing his brow. “Did their Shaman not die? Or did they find a successor?”

Shi Yan shook his head. “I don’t know. Anyway, Father said the leader of the Cliff Shore Tribe, who went to trade for salt, mentioned something about their tribe’s Shaman not being in the best of health lately.”

“Then he might be dying soon.” Hu Ming pursed his lips; the shock he’d felt upon learning there was a Shaman had already subsided somewhat.

Shi Yan slapped him on the back. “Watch your mouth.”

Hu Ming pouted and asked him, “We’ve come this far. If we don’t bring back any game, the chief is definitely going to give you a hard time.” Shi Yan nodded slightly. That was true—he hadn’t led the men out just to fill their bellies, but to bring back plenty of game.

They had followed a pack of dogbeasts all the way to this remote borderland, but unfortunately, the dogbeasts had vanished into the woods. Although they had eaten their fill, they still had no game to take back to the tribe.

Although they could hunt some wild beasts near the tribe to bring back, Shi Yan didn’t want to do that. Recalling his father’s words, he gritted his teeth and said, “I remember there’s a terror bird over here!”

“A terror bird?” Hu Ming’s eyes widened. “Just a few of us going to hunt a terror bird? That’s a death wish.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Shi Yan wasn’t actually that confident about hunting a terror bird either; he’d only asked the question on a whim just now.

Hu Ming sighed. “Forget it. Let’s just see how things go. If it doesn’t work out, I remember there are plenty of giant deer in the Longleaf Forest. We can always catch a few of those to take back.”

“Giant deer… if we run into a Longhorn Giant Deer, those are tough to kill, too.” Shi Yan pondered for a moment. “Forget it. We’ll set out as soon as we wake up. We’ll go hunt giant deer. If we can’t even bring back a giant deer, I’ll be the laughingstock of the whole tribe.”

Hu Ming knew full well that Shi Yan was vying for the title of Golden Lion Clan chieftain; if he didn’t prove himself, the Golden Lion Clan would never accept him. The two stood in the breeze for a while longer before returning to the cave, where they lay down and fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Aila, who had been sleeping the whole time, opened his eyes. He stared at the cave entrance for a long while before closing it again.

Back at the Cliff Shore Tribe, after waking up and eating breakfast, Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu led Mang Qiqi and Li away from the back mountain. Li and Mang Qiqi were carrying wooden buckets—barrels that Mang Jiu had dug out overnight specifically to hold the silt.

Zhang Shuguang first led them to the experimental field, where he planted the vegetable seedlings in separate rows, leaving ample space between them to allow for free growth.

With all four of them working together, they made quick progress and finished in no time.

Zhang Shuguang wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and scratched his neck. “I find sleeping on leather at night too uncomfortable. I should ask Sister Hua to help me make a bamboo-woven pillow.”

“What does a bamboo-woven pillow look like?” Li asked curiously.

Zhang Shuguang thought for a moment and gave him a rough explanation. “You cut bamboo strips into thin strands, then weave them together. It’s breathable and keeps you cool.”

“Sister Hua can definitely make one. You haven’t seen it these past few days, but Sister Hua has been weaving with my mom and the others every single day. They all say weaving baskets is less tiring than going out to pick fruit or dig for wild vegetables,” Li said. “We don’t like it; it’s just the old folks who enjoy weaving.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly. “You’ll be old someday, too. Come on, let’s go dig in the mud—I’m sure you’ll like that.” When Mang Qiqi heard they were going to dig in the mud, he asked, “What’s the point of digging in the mud? Is it edible?”

“Is it true that all of you in the Giant Python Clan, young and old alike, think of nothing but eating?” Zhang Shuguang teased him with a smile. “Mud can actually be used in cooking. Let’s go take a look over there later—if there are any ducks, we’ll catch a few and make some clay-oven duck for lunch.”

Qi nodded with a smile. He loved meat! He loved any kind of meat that tasted good.

The four of them went to the ditch, where flocks of ducks were swimming. Apparently, the fear of being caught had passed, and they were all swimming along with the current, looking quite content.

Every now and then, they could hear quacking. Zhang Shuguang motioned for the group to put their things down. “Let’s catch the ducks first, then dig for mud.”

Mang Qiqi and Li excitedly jumped into the water, startling the ducks into flapping their wings as if to fly away. Li, drawing on his previous experience, targeted the ones about to take flight. As for Mang Qiqi, his natural prowess spoke for itself—even though he wasn’t very old, his movements were anything but slow.

Mang Jiu didn’t even bother going into the water; he waited on the shore for them to toss the ducks up to him.

Zhang Shuguang went off to gather some tall grass nearby to use later for roasting the ducks.

He stoked the fire and used a bamboo tube he’d brought to heat some water, which he would use later to pluck the ducks.

The four of them worked together, and in no time, more than a dozen ducks were completely plucked, sitting bare and smooth on the side, waiting for Zhang Shuguang to rub them with salt.

“Won’t they burn if we roast them like this?” Mangqi squatted nearby. It was his first time seeing a duck with all its feathers plucked; he poked at the yellowish-white skin with his finger.

“That’s gross.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled and handed him the salt in the bamboo tube. “Rub a layer on them like I did just now, then stuff this lemongrass into the duck’s belly. I’ll go with Mang Jiu to pick some large leaves.”

Li Ying nodded and joined Mang Qiqi in rubbing salt onto the duck.

Zhang Shuguang pulled Mang Jiu toward a nearby banana tree and said to him, “We’ll need to let the mud we dig up dry a bit, then mold it into a dish to see if we can use it for baking.”

“How do you plan to bake it?” Mang Jiu looked at him in confusion. “Earlier, you said you wanted to make some kind of oven—is that for baking mud?”

“…No, ovens are for cooking food, though I guess you could bake clay in one too,” he frowned in confusion, not quite sure himself. “I’ve never made pottery before, so I’ll have to give it a try. When I was working, a female colleague used to make little polymer clay trinkets at home, and they looked pretty nice.”

Mang Jiu didn’t understand what he was talking about.

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand dismissively. “Never mind. We even wrap our stove with a layer of mud at home. There’s no reason a plate we mold out of clay can’t be baked. In a bit, we’ll dig a big hole—we’ll braise a duck at the bottom and bake the clay on top.”

Mang Jiu nodded, and the two walked over to the banana tree. Zhang Shuguang circled the thick trunk and whistled in amazement. “I’ve noticed that all the plants and animals here seem to be magnified. Is that because of the environment?”

Mang Jiu plucked a few intact leaves. Hearing his words, he asked, “How tall were the trees you’ve seen before?”

“This kind?” Zhang Shuguang pointed at the banana tree. “I’ve only seen one before, and it was about half the size of this tree—and it didn’t grow this tall either.” He looked up toward the treetop and pursed his lips. “This one’s at least ten meters high.”

Mang Jiu placed the leaves on the ground and asked, “Is this enough?”

“That’s enough.” Zhang Shuguang walked over to examine the leaves and remarked, “It really is a magical world.”

Mang Jiu gave him a helpless look and tapped his forehead lightly. “You’re the one who’s more amazing.”

“Come on, let’s go back and dig up some mud.” Zhang Shuguang chuckled, bent down to pick up a large leaf, but he’d underestimated the leaf’s weight and overestimated his own strength—he nearly strained his back.

To his surprise, the leaf was so heavy he couldn’t lift it with one hand; he had to hold it with both arms or hoist it onto his shoulder. Mang Jiu, who was effortlessly carrying several other large leaves, saw him clutching the leaf stem with both hands and reached out, saying, “Give it to me.”

Zhang Shuguang didn’t hesitate; he let go immediately. Mang Jiu’s large hand grabbed the leaf stems in one swift motion, and he simply walked off carrying them.

It looked as if he didn’t feel the weight at all.

But remembering how this man could carry a bull with just one hand, Zhang Shuguang could only feel envious.

“We’ve rubbed the salt on them,” Li said as he saw the two return, pointing to the ducks in the wooden tub. “This tub is handy too. What kind of wood is it made of? I’m going to carve two of my own.”

“The big tree in front of the tribe,” Mang Jiu replied, “There are plenty of them.”

Li nodded, rinsed the large leaves clean with water, and asked Zhang Shuguang, “How do we wrap them?” Mang Jiu found it quite amusing to see both him and Mang Qiqi staring at him expectantly.

“Place the duck on top, then wrap it around a few times,” he said, picking up a duck and placing it on the large leaf. “Wrap one side like this first, then fold it over like this. Try not to tear the leaf. Keep wrapping, then add another layer.” He wrapped two layers of leaves, creating a large green parcel. “Like this.”

“This is easy. I’ll do it.” Li was particularly eager and nudged Zhang Shuguang aside. “You go dig for mud.”

Zhang Shuguang stood up and laughed, “I thought you liked digging for mud.”

“When can’t you dig in the mud? Wrapping this actually feels pretty satisfying,” Li said, lowering his head to focus on wrapping the leaves. His movements were a bit cautious. After a couple of tries, he realized it wasn’t as easy as it looked—mainly because the duck was so stiff. As soon as he held down its wings, its legs would stiffen up. He fumbled around for a while, and the result was a real eyesore. “Is it a little loose?”

Mang Qiqi nodded beside him. “It’s not as pretty as Shuguang’s.”

Li turned and glared at him. “Why don’t you give me a hand? What good does it do just to stand there watching?”

Mang Qiqi, taken aback by his scowl, snorted. “I’m not helping you. I’m going to wrap it myself.” He crouched down beside him, picked up a duck, and placed it on a leaf.

Zhang Shuguang saw that the two of them could definitely handle it. Although their movements were clumsy and it didn’t look great, the leaf completely covered the duck without exposing any flesh. “That’ll do. We’ll wrap it in mud later, so it’s fine.”

Encouraged by his words, both of them were delighted.

“Let’s go dig up some mud,” Zhang Shuguang said with a smile, taking Mang Jiu’s hand. “Come on.”

The three little ones wanted to play in the mud too, so they hopped and skipped along behind them. Tangdou—perhaps because she hadn’t flown much recently—still preferred to hop around on the ground with her little paws, even though her wings had fully healed and she’d flown a few times. As she hopped, she chirped happily, looking quite excited.

Maodou would run a couple of steps before turning back to check on Zhang Shuguang; seeing him following, she’d turn around and keep running. Naidou, however, darted off a good distance, then hopped and darted through the grass, returning shortly with her long fur covered in clumps of grass.

Tangdou chirped twice, flapped its little wings, and flew up, landing between the ears on top of Maodou’s head. Maodou ran forward a couple of steps, and Tangdou chirped while flapping its wings against his ears, causing Maodou to slow down.

Zhang Shuguang smiled as he watched the three little ones getting along so harmoniously. Feeling quite pleased, he said, “If only they could stay this small forever.”

“Rare beasts don’t grow very large,” Mang Jiu said, walking beside him with a wooden bucket. “Plus, when they’re young, they can’t control their transformations very well.”

Zhang Shuguang thought of what Li had said about Xiong Ye taking the cubs out for training, and turned to ask, “Do you know Xiong Ye?” “Xiong Ye?” Mang Jiu paused, “You mean the Chief’s cub?”

“Yeah,” Zhang Shuguang pulled a stone spoon out of the wooden bucket. “Li said his father wants him to have cubs with Xiong Ye.”

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow. “With Xiong Ye?”

“What’s wrong?” Zhang Shuguang sensed something was off in his tone, so he took off his straw sandals and asked, “Do you know him well?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re close,” Mang Jiu gripped his forearm, guiding him slowly down the slope into the water before letting go. “Xiong Ye is the next chieftain of the Giant Bear Clan. If he wins the competition for tribal leader, he’ll also be the next leader.”

Zhang Shuguang didn’t care much about clan chiefs or tribal leaders; he was more concerned about Li. Although consanguineous marriages were discouraged, this kind of arranged match was still rather frustrating.

He stamped his feet in the mud. Seeing Mang Jiu come down, he turned to look at Li, then whispered to Mang Jiu, “I can’t help but feel it’s because of what I said to the Shaman, that’s why Li is being pressured to have a cub with Xiong Ye.”

Mang Jiu chuckled. “Li being pressured to have a cub is just like me being pressured to lay an egg—every adult Beastman and Sub-Beastman in the tribe gets pressured.”

finished speaking and saw Zhang Shuguang staring at him in surprise, so he asked, “Haven’t you ever been pressured?”

Zhang Shuguang thought back to how his mother had started pressuring him to get married and have kids right after he graduated, and sighed heavily. “I’ve been pressured.” Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you found the right one yet?”

“No, I’m not in a hurry.” Zhang Shuguang scooped up some mud with a shovel. “Bring me the wooden bucket.”

Mang Jiu placed the wooden bucket in the water and asked, “Then am I suitable?”

With a clang, the stone spoon struck the side of the bucket. Zhang Shuguang looked up at him. “Suitable for what?” 

Mang Jiu shook his head. “Never mind.”

Zhang Shuguang gave a noncommittal “Oh,” his gaze shifting nervously downward to the rippling water’s surface. After a long moment, he scooped seven or eight spoonfuls of silt into the bucket before muttering under his breath, “I guess so.”

Mang Jiu was digging mud on the other side. He heard him speak but didn’t catch what he said.

“Did you just call me?”

“No,” Zhang Shuguang said, his face stiff and his body slightly hunched. “I said we need to dig faster—they’re almost done over there.”

Mang Jiu gave a noncommittal “Oh” and obediently turned back to continue digging.

Zhang Shuguang exhaled slowly, rolling his eyes in exasperation at his own momentary lapse of judgment.

There was a lot of mud at the bottom of the ditch, and even though the two of them hadn’t worked very hard, they quickly filled two buckets.

Mang Jiu carried the two buckets ashore, then pulled Zhang Shuguang up after him.

The three kids hadn’t gone in the water earlier, not because they didn’t want to, but because Zhang Shuguang had strictly forbidden them from doing so. With the spring chill still in the air, the little ones weren’t allowed to play in the water; they could do so once it got warmer.

Thinking of playing in the water, he suddenly asked, “Can we start working on my hot tub now?” Mang Jiu hummed in agreement. “I’ll carry the stones back tomorrow.”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head. “No, leave them there for now. They’ll need to start collecting salt crystals soon, so we’ll have to dig another salt field.”

“I’ll go dig for stones in the hot rock cave,” Mang Jiu said calmly. Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “You really spoil me, don’t you?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mang Jiu nodded.

Li waved to the two of them and pointed at the neatly arranged bundles of leaves on the ground. “See? We did a pretty good job, didn’t we?”

Although things were a bit chaotic at first, they got the hang of it after wrapping two or three, and the leaf bundles they made afterward turned out quite well.

Zhang Shuguang gave the two a thumbs-up and praised them, saying, “Not bad—wrap this mud around the outside of the leaves.” After he finished speaking, he changed his mind and said, “Never mind, let’s start over and wrap some more mud around them here; don’t use this mud.”

“Why?” Li asked, puzzled.

Zhang Shuguang replied, “I don’t want to waste it. Go fetch some water to mix with the mud.” He looked mysterious, his eyes crinkling. “I have other uses for this silt.” Li and Mang Qiqi went to fetch water, while Zhang Shuguang had Mang Jiu dig a pit and then began mixing the mud.

The three cubs stood by the pit, eager to join in, but Zhang Shuguang slapped each of them on the head. “If any of you get covered in mud, you’re taking a bath!” Naidou backed away a bit, raised a front paw to rest it on Maodou’s back, and tilted his head back, meowing at Zhang Shuguang.

“Little brother, don’t step on him. You’d better behave!” Zhang Shuguang tapped him on the forehead.

Naidou meowed and took a step back, then swished his big tail and obediently crouched down on the ground. Zhang Shuguang used the mud to cover the outer layer of the leaf bundle, wrapping it in a thick layer.

“Got it?” He looked up at Li.

Li nodded.

Zhang Shuguang stepped aside and tilted his chin. “Your turn.” Li moved to the edge of the mud pit and began applying mud to the leaf bundle.

Mang Qiqi helped from the side, while Zhang Shuguang went to the wooden tub and scooped up a ladleful of mud with a stone spoon.

He pinched a bit of mud between his fingers and rolled it around, then said to Mang Jiu, “I want to try adding some soil to the inside.” 

“Sure, it’s no big deal if you mess it up. There’s plenty—dig as much as you want,” Mang Jiu replied.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly. The feeling of having support no matter what he did was truly satisfying. It felt as though even if he were to poke a hole in the sky, Mang Jiu would find a way to patch it back up.

He placed some mud on the ground, added some sand from the grass, and mixed it all together. The sand absorbed the water from the mud, and a large lump of light brown mud was left on the ground.

Zhang Shuguang patted and pounded the mud with both hands, kneading it like dough. As he kneaded, he picked out the pebbles and grit from the mud, feeling it grow stickier the more he worked it.

“How am I supposed to shape it when it’s this sticky?” He looked up at Mang Jiu, only to see a look of confusion on his face. “If you have a question, just ask.”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “You seem to be having a lot of fun.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile. “It is pretty fun. Could you bring me some clean water? I’ll dip my hands in it to shape things.”

Mang Jiu set the bamboo tube aside, then picked up a leaf and poured water onto it. “What are you going to make?”

“I’ll try making a plate.” Zhang Shuguang gave a wry smile. “I’m not actually very good with my hands. If this clay really can be used to fire pottery, I’ll still need to find someone in the tribe who’s skilled at crafts.” He moistened his hands, scooped up a clump of clay, and placed it in his palm. After a bit of kneading and shaping, a clay patty took form.

Seeing him place the clay patty on the leaf, Mang Jiu asked in confusion, “What’s this?” Zhang Shuguang gave a dry laugh. “Heh, a plate.”

“A plate?” Mang Jiu couldn’t help but retort, “Even the kids in the tribe could make a plate like that.”

Zhang Shuguang glared at him angrily. “If you think you can do better, go ahead!”

Mang Jiu actually reached out and grabbed a clump of mud himself. First, he instinctively rolled it into a ball in his hands, then poked at the center of the ball. He stopped after a moment, thought for a second, and continued poking, shaping it as he went. Soon, a palm-sized bowl took shape.

Zhang Shuguang, watching from the side, widened his eyes. “You actually know how to make a bowl?” Mang Jiu picked up the clay bowl to examine it, then pinched off a piece of clay, rolled it between his fingers, and attached it. Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened even further. “You made a teacup?”

Mang Jiu: “I saw this in that video of yours. It looks pretty nice.”

Zhang Shuguang’s face lit up with surprise and admiration. “You’re really amazing!” He opened his arms to give her a hug, but since they were both covered in clay, he lowered his arms again. “Whether this turns out in the kiln or not, I’m definitely keeping this as a keepsake!”

Mang Jiu nodded with a soft chuckle. “I’ll shape the rest. You go light the fire—they should be done covering the ducks in clay by now.”

“Alright!” Zhang Shuguang was full of enthusiasm. “Start by making a few bowls—nothing too big. Once we get the hang of it, we’ll tackle the larger ones.”

Mang Jiu hummed in agreement, pinched off another chunk of clay, and began shaping a bowl. He was far more skilled than Zhang Shuguang; the second clay bowl he made was perfectly round, with walls even smoother than those of the water cup.

He tilted his head to examine it, then found a stone to place in front of him. He set the clay on top and worked with both hands, rather than holding it with one hand and shaping it with the other as he had done before.

Using both hands to shape the clay was clearly much easier, and with his left and right hands working in perfect sync, his pace picked up noticeably.

Zhang Shuguang lit the fire, placed all the clay balls into the pit where they’d been mixed, covered them with some soil, and then built the fire on top of the soil. “Go find some more dry branches—thick ones. We need to make the fire bigger; otherwise, the clay balls underneath won’t heat evenly.”

Li and Mang Qiqi hurried off to gather wood for the fire.

Zhang Shuguang washed his hands, sat cross-legged on the ground, and the three little ones ran over to curl up on his lap.

He stared at the roaring flames and clicked his tongue. “I have a feeling that even if this clay really can be used to make pottery, we won’t be able to produce it on a large scale.”

“Why?” Mang Jiu had molded over a dozen bowls and four cups with handles. She dragged a large leaf over to his side. “If you like them, I’ll make more.”

“This stuff uses up a lot of fire. It’d be great if we could find some coal.” Zhang Shuguang cautiously reached for a clay bowl. He’d intended to put it directly into the fire to bake, but realized he didn’t have the tolerance to handle the heat.

“Get me a slab of stone—it doesn’t have to be too thick.” He pointed to the rock Mang Jiu had been using as a table. “Chop a piece off.”

Mang Jiu gave a noncommittal “Oh,” walked over, and swung his hand to strike the rock. With a crack, the stone split. He picked up the slab and handed it to Zhang Shuguang. “Want another one?”

Zhang Shuguang watched his hand with a wry smile. Aside from being covered in dust, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Split them all. I’m going to put all of these inside to roast.”

With a swift swing of his hand, Mang Jiu split a single stone into four slabs. Zhang Shuguang filled the stone plates with clay bowls and cups of water, placed two of them over the fire to boil, and set the other two aside to be smoked by the flames.

“I can smell it already.” The two who had gone to gather branches and firewood ran back. Mang Qiqi tossed the branches onto the ground, lunged forward, and lay flat on his stomach right by the pit filled with mud balls. He took a deep breath. “It smells amazing!”

Not only were Zhang Shuguang and Li stunned, but even Mang Jiu paused in surprise.

“Can you smell it?” Zhang Shuguang looked at Mang Jiu. Mang Jiu shook his head. “No.”

“I don’t smell it either. Besides, didn’t you just put it in?” Li sat down next to Zhang Shuguang and pointed curiously at the object in the fire. “What are you doing with this? Is roasted mud tasty?”

Zhang Shuguang shot the glutton a helpless look. “It’s not for eating! This is just a test run. Wait until I’ve finished roasting it,” he said, turning to look at Mang Qiqi and reaching out to pull the kid back, who was creeping ever closer. “Aren’t you afraid your belly will get roasted?”

Mang Qiqi scratched his head with one hand and wiped his mouth with the other. “The meat smells so good.”

“Where’s that smell coming from?” Zhang Shuguang looked down curiously. Even if there was a scent, it should be buried in the mud, and since they’d only just started heating it up, the aroma of the meat shouldn’t have started wafting out yet.

Mang Qiqi’s face flushed bright red as he exclaimed excitedly, “My nose is really sharp—I can smell even the faintest hint of a scent.” Zhang Shuguang paused for a moment, realizing this was what set Mang Qiqi apart from the others.

Mang Jiu tossed a few twigs into the fire and said to Zhang Shuguang, “It seems Mang Da has a pretty keen sense of smell.”

“Why isn’t your nose that sensitive?” Zhang Shuguang shot him a disdainful sideways glance, then patted the head of Maodou, who was already dozing in his arms, causing Maodou to tilt his face up at him. “In the future, my Maodou’s nose will definitely be super sensitive too.”

Maodou made a soft sound, nudged his wrist with its nose, then lay down to continue sleeping.

Naidou, with his eyes closed, tilted his head and licked Maodou’s fur twice. He curled up a bit, then licked his own chest twice before falling fast asleep.

Tangdou, on the other hand, was wide awake. She chirped softly twice, flapped her wings, and flew onto Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder, poking her little head forward, and Zhang Shuguang tilted his head to give her a kiss.

Tangdou chirped a few times, then flapped her little wings and flew onto Mang Jiu’s shoulder, tentatively shifting forward a bit, her black eyes fixed on him.

“Cheep~~”

Mang Jiu turned to look at her, his expression impassive, yet his eyes holding a hint of a smile.

Zhang Shuguang spoke up from the side, lightly tracing Tangdou’s tiny wings with his fingertips. “She probably wants you to give her a kiss, too.” Mang Jiu paused, his gaze locking with her dark, round eyes.

Tangdou’s fluffy body trembled slightly—she was a bit scared—but she still inched her little paws forward, bringing her tiny beak closer. Mang Jiu slowly curved the corners of his mouth and kissed her.

Tangdou let out a long, drawn-out “cheep~~~,” then flew from Mang Jiu’s left shoulder to his right, her little head leaning in again. “Cheep~” Mang Jiu turned his face and kissed her again.

“Cheep, cheep, cheep~~~” Tangdou was overjoyed. She flew back to Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder and rubbed her little head against his cheek. “Okay, okay, okay. A kiss.” Zhang Shuguang kissed her twice in a row.

Tangdou chirped twice, then went still.

While she settled down, the two little ones in Zhang Shuguang’s arms weren’t having it. Naidou directly curled up and rammed himself against Zhang Shuguang’s mouth, while Maodou stood up, resting his front paws on his shoulders.

“Kisses, Daddy’s kissing you all.” Holding the two rowdy furballs, he planted two smacking kisses on each of them.

Satisfied, the cubs boldly scampered from his lap to Mang Jiu’s. Naidou and Maodou sat obediently, tilting their furry heads in unison and looking up at Mang Jiu with pleading eyes.

Mang Jiu lowered his head slightly and met their gaze. Just as the two pups twitched their ears and tried to back away, he bent down, arching his back, and planted a kiss on each of their foreheads.

Naidou and Maodou wagged their tails excitedly, and Mang Jiu reached out to hold them close, afraid their tails might brush against the flames. Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow and teased, “Does that make you a ‘tough-as-nails dad’?”

“What do you mean?” Mang Jiu looked at him.

Zhang Shuguang shook his head with a smile. “A ‘dad’ is a man who takes care of kids. As for ‘tough-as-nails’—how do I explain it? It means you’re really capable, serious, and cool”, he pointed at Mang Jiu, “like you.”

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow and leaned in. “Kiss me.” Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened. “What?”