Dinner was a real success, with everyone having a great time—especially after they grilled their own skewers under Zhang Shuguang’s guidance. Dipping their homemade skewers into the two sauces Zhang Shuguang had prepared, they all ate with looks of pure bliss on their faces.

Zhang Shuguang hadn’t forgotten to send a gift to Hua, who had woven him a bamboo pillow. He’d originally wanted to invite Hua to join them for dinner, but Hua said she had ideas for weaving the pillow and didn’t want to intrude on the gathering.

Of course, the only one feeling a bit down was Mang Er. He usually loved the spicy dipping sauce, but Zhang Shuguang had added a generous amount of garlic to it. To him, the smell was like drinking acid—for some reason, just the scent made him feel dizzy and lightheaded.

Wei was eating intently on the side. Although he had a somewhat aloof demeanor, once you got to know him, you’d discover he wasn’t quite what he seemed on the surface.

On the contrary, he was the type to ask questions when he didn’t understand something.

When grilling skewers, he asked how to get the heat just right, as Zhang Shuguang had described.

When they were eating braised beef with potatoes, he asked how to stir-fry the beef, when to add the potatoes, and why his potatoes always turned out mushy.

He was particularly fond of the wild greens and scrambled eggs, asking where the greens were foraged and whether any kind of egg would work. When eating the shredded bamboo shoots and salted pork, he pressed further, asking how the pork was cured and what to do if he added too much or too little salt.

The soup made with Chinese cabbage and sweet potato leaves was also quite good. He’d watched Zhang Shuguang make it—just stir-frying the greens in a little oil, then adding water and bringing it to a boil—and hadn’t expected it to taste so good.

The skewered meat was a whole other story. As he watched the pieces of meat he’d skewered himself turn color over the fire, Wei’s face never lost its smile. Wu Ming and Ying Cao were equally satisfied; Wu Ming even let out a few loud belches after the meal, completely disregarding his manners.

Zhang Shuguang was startled. “Wu, you’ve eaten too much.”

This old Shaman could eat more than he could, which was truly impressive.

Wu Ming waved his hand with a chuckle, wiping his mouth as he said, “When I was your age, I could eat half a young beast calf all by myself.” Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched. Was that really a Shaman’s appetite? It sounded more like a young Beastman’s.

Mang Qiqi, Li, and Wei helped clear the dishes. Zhang Shuguang brought the marinated beef to the table, then pulled out a slender fishbone.

From that large fish—which had resembled a shark—he had not only ground the large spine into a bone knife but had also saved many of the smaller spines from the fish bones. Now, they would serve perfectly as needles for threading the meat.

“Mang Jiu, help me out.” He cut two lengths from the thick vine and handed the bone knife to Mang Jiu. “I need some very thin vine rope to hang the meat.”

Mang Jiu took both the vines and the bone knife. “Hang it on my hide?”

Zhang Shuguang paused, then turned to look at the snake skin hanging between the cliff face and the tree.

Despite being exposed to the elements—wind, sun, and rain—the snake’s shed skin remained as good as new.

“Oh, right, just like when we hung up the salted pork before. It had to hang for many days, but this one just needs to hang for two days, and then it’s ready to roast.” He made several small cuts in one end of the vine with a bone knife, then grabbed one side and tore it open with force. A thin strand of vine came away in his hand. He then made a few more small cuts in the strand and tore it into even thinner strands.

He tugged at the vine cord with both hands; it was quite supple and very sturdy. It took a lot of force to snap it—much stronger than cotton thread.

“Like this,” he said, poking a small hole in one end of the meat strip with a fishbone, then threading the vine cord through the hole and lifting it up. “See? Do it like I’m doing, then thread them all through one by one.” He held up the vine cord, and the meat strip dangled from it.

Li and Mang Qiqi nodded on one side, and Mang Jiu nodded as well, having understood.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly. “It’s best not to thread too many together; tie a knot every so often.” 

He tied a knot in the vine rope. Seeing the puzzled looks on their faces, he tied another knot nearby, then continued threading the strips of meat. After a moment’s thought, he tied yet another knot, so that there were now two knots separating each pair of strips. “Having two knots prevents the strips from touching each other when they stop moving, making them easier to dry.”

The three nodded again, their eyes fixed intently as they watched and learned earnestly.

Zhang Shuguang threaded five strips of meat onto the vine rope, picked it up, and gave it a shake. Then he stood up and tied the rope to the snake skin. He roughly estimated the length of the vine rope left, tied it off, and gave it a tug—it wouldn’t come loose.

“Like this—five at a time.”

The three nodded in agreement. Not only them, but Wei and Wu Ming standing nearby nodded as well.

Seeing that everyone was interested, Zhang Shuguang decided to distribute the vines among them. He told them to wash their hands first, then start by splitting the vines into strands, and use fish bones to skewer the meat.

“I’ll help you thread the meat, too.” Hua brought over a bamboo pillow and handed it to Zhang Shuguang. “Is this the one?”

Zhang Shuguang took it, examined it, patted it, and pressed it down. He exclaimed with delight, “Sister Hua, this is fantastic! Thank you, thank you so much—you’ve saved my life!”

Hua giggled at his praise and pointed to the busy crowd. “I’ll help skewer the meat too.”

“No need. There isn’t much left; we’ll be done in a minute. You sit down and rest for a bit.” Zhang Shuguang waved her off, then pointed to the table. “Sit over there.”

Hua walked over and sat down next to Wu Ming. She watched as he, too, picked up a fishbone and slowly poked at the meat. She was taken aback to see that although his movements were slow, his hand didn’t tremble.

She looked up and saw that Wu Ming’s wrinkled, weathered face was actually flushed with a healthy glow—nothing like the sallow, lifeless complexion she’d seen earlier.

“Is there something on my face?” Wu Ming looked up at her.

Hua quickly shook her head. She stared at him for a moment and realized that Shaman Wu Ming, who had previously spoken with little energy and in a sluggish manner, actually seemed to be in remarkably good spirits.

“Shaman, have you been eating something special?”

Hua gestured to her own face. “You look different.” Wu Ming understood what she meant. He smiled, shook his head, then nodded.

He didn’t say much more, and Hua didn’t ask any further questions. For everyone in the tribe, the healthier the Shaman was, the happier they were. Zhang Shuguang looked around and realized that threading the meat strips didn’t require his help, so he simply went back to fiddling with the sludge in the two wooden barrels.

The mud had settled to the bottom after sitting for a while, with a layer of clear water on top. He poured out the clear water, then reached in and stirred the mud. It was very thick and offered significant resistance.

He thought for a moment, then decided against adding more sand. Instead, he found a flat stone slab left over from the oven that Mang Jiu had built, placed it on the ground, and scooped some mud onto it.

“What are you up to now?” Hua asked curiously, leaning in.

Zhang Shuguang was always coming up with something new—first a bamboo basket, then a bamboo pillow, and now he was playing with mud.

“I want to mold some bowls and plates to fire—just like the ones I have in my cave,” Zhang Shuguang said without looking up, kneading the mud with both hands as if working dough.

As he worked, the remaining moisture was squeezed out of the mud, trickling down the stone slab onto the ground, and the lump of clay grew increasingly sticky. He applied more force, kneading it until he finally shaped the clay into a sphere that wouldn’t fall apart.

Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow. It actually worked!

“Kids love playing in the mud,” Wu Ming said with a smile from the side.

Zhang Shuguang shot him a helpless glance. “This isn’t just playing in the mud—it’s a purposeful experiment.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Wu Ming asked.

Hua was curious too. She reached out and poked the mud ball; it didn’t feel soft, but rather slightly sticky and firm.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she poked it again. “Why is it hard?”

“All the moisture has been squeezed out, so it’s hardened.” Zhang Shuguang picked up a piece of wood and waved it about, setting the mud ball aside. He then scooped some more mud onto a rock. This time, instead of kneading it with his hands, he began gently patting it with the wood.

The patted mud flattened against the stone. With one hand, he patted the mud, and with the other, he gathered the flattened mud together. After repeated patting, it formed a slightly firm lump of mud.

“This one’s harder than the last one,” Hua said, poking it again.

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “When you’re ready to use it, you can add a little water and then knead it.” Hua found this interesting and reached out. “Let me try.”

“It’s dirty—you’ll get it all over yourself.” Zhang Shuguang gestured for Hua to look at the mud splatters on his clothes.

“It’s fine. If I get dirty, I’ll just wash up. You go mold the clay bowl, and I’ll help you pat it.” Hua took the piece of wood from his hand and began patting the clay, mimicking the movements he’d just seen.

Wu Ming slowly threaded the strips of meat while watching Zhang Shuguang clumsily mold the clay. Seeing him press a clump of clay straight down, trying to make a very deep bowl, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Actually, you could roll the clay into a log and coil it.”

Zhang Shuguang looked at the lump of clay that kept losing its shape no matter what he did, then nodded. “Shaman, you’re really smart.”

He gathered the clay into a ball, rolled it into a long strip as Wu Ming had suggested, and then coiled it upward in layers. He made it quite large, using three lumps of clay to finish the job.

Looking at his half-finished clay pot, he paused to think, then reached out to gently smooth out the texture on both the inside and outside.

He moved carefully, afraid that a moment’s inattention might cause him to apply too much force, warping the pot’s walls and preventing a seamless fit. After smoothing the entire pot from the inside out, he added a small handle on each side.

“Perfect!” Zhang Shuguang admired his work for a long time, thoroughly satisfied. This was a clay pot, after all!

He’d been so engrossed in working with the clay that he hadn’t noticed everyone else had already threaded their meat strips and hung them up; now they were standing in a line behind him, watching.

“The bottom needs to be a little thicker to withstand the firing,” he muttered to himself. He scooped up some more clay and shaped it into a large round disc, then carefully lifted the clay pot and placed it on the disc, pinching the edges together to seal it.

“It’s done!”

“That looks amazing!”

“What is this thing?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before. It looks a lot like our stone vats, just much smaller.”

Zhang Shuguang turned around to see several people behind him chatting animatedly.

He smiled and said, “This shape is a jar. If we can fire it successfully, it can be used to hold things, or even as a pot—you can use it to stew soup, meat, or whatever.”

“Can clay really be used as a pot?”

“Won’t the clay shatter when heated?”

Li and Wei spoke at the same time. They turned to look at each other, and Li asked, “Shuguang, is this jar the same as a bowl?” Wei asked curiously, “Where do we build our fire at home, not to mention the clay—even the ground cracks from the heat. Will this really work?”

Zhang Shuguang replied, “It’s the same, yet not quite the same. This one should require a longer firing time. I plan to make several and fire them separately. If they all turn out successfully, it means the clay here is suitable for firing. If the firing times differ and the results vary, we’ll just follow the method that works.”

He looked at Wei again. “Not all clay is suitable for firing; we have to find the right kind.”

He cradled the pot in both hands, walked over to the kiln, and placed it under the fire pit. “Let it air dry for a day or two first, so the moisture can evaporate before firing.”

“Can we help make some too? It looked pretty simple when I watched you do it just now.” Li rubbed his hands together; he was always fascinated by anything new.

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Sure. Just mark your own pieces. If they come out right, whoever made them gets to use them.” Although they were helping out of curiosity, he wouldn’t keep the finished products all to himself.

The group started molding the clay again. Watching Zhang Shuguang do it had seemed easy, but once they tried it themselves, they realized it wasn’t so simple. On the contrary, the clay seemed to have a mind of its own; the moment you took your eye off it, it would lose its shape.

Mang Jiu had some prior experience, so he picked it up the fastest. Instead of making a jar, he shaped a plate.

Using the same method Zhang Shuguang had just demonstrated for rolling out strips of clay, he quickly fashioned a plate, and the surface was quite smooth. After making one, he stopped working and instead took over Hua’s task of preparing the clay.

It was completely dark by then. Zhang Shuguang took the three kids to wash up, then said to the others still working, “I’m tired. If you’re done, just leave your pieces on the table to dry.”

“Go on, go on. You go to sleep first; we’ll keep shaping for a little while longer,” Hua waved him off. Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile and carried the three kids back into the cave.

He felt a dull ache in his tailbone. When he put the three little ones into the giant conch shell, he discovered they wouldn’t all fit inside!

“You guys have grown so much,” he said, patting Naidou and Maodou, then patting Tangdou and smiling, “Our little beauty still hasn’t grown up yet.”

Tangdou chirped twice, flapped her wings, and flew onto his shoulder. She leaned her little beak forward, ready to give him a kiss.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly, kissed her on the head, then picked up the two furry little ones and gave them each a kiss, earning a round of licks from all three.

“All right, all right, Dad’s face is ruined.” Holding the little ones, he rolled over on the stone bed and laughed, “Time for bed. Tomorrow morning, Dad will take you to play in the fields.”

Naidou kicked Maodou out of the giant conch shell and hissed at him—clearly, he was quite put off by his bulky frame.

Tangdou chirped at Naidou, then waddled over to Maodou on her stubby little legs, curling up to nestle into the fur on his chest. Maodou lay on his side, stretching out against Zhang Shuguang and contentedly swishing his tail.

Naidou saw that no one was joining him in the giant conch shell and grew unhappy again, meowing several times at the two cubs huddled together.

Zhang Shuguang found it amusing. He reached out and poked Naidou’s little head, scolding him, “You can’t bully your little brother. Look, he’s so much bigger than you—he could swat you with one paw and hurt you, but he doesn’t bully you.”

Naidou perked up his ears, twitching his whiskers as he looked at him, his big eyes glistening with moisture. “Meow~~”

Maodou also lifted his head, rubbed up against Zhang Shuguang in a bid to please him, and tapped his paw against Zhang Shuguang’s mouth before turning his big head back to rest it in the giant seashell.

The message was clear: Don’t call his “big brother”—he can sleep like this.

Zhang Shuguang was utterly charmed by the sight and couldn’t resist burying his face in the cat’s fur and rubbing against him.

“Little one, you really are Daddy’s good boy.”

Naidou hopped out of the giant seashell, then pushed hard with his hind legs to kick it aside. But the seashell was wedged between the stone slab bed and the mountain wall. Not only could he not move it, but he ended up getting pushed out himself.

“Meow!” He turned his head and meowed at Zhang Shuguang with a look of utter grievance.

Zhang Shuguang sighed, then simply got up to remove the giant conch. He picked up the three kittens and placed them on the empty stone slab bed nearby.

Earlier, he’d had Mang Jiu set up an extra stone slab bed specifically in case the three cubs grew too big to fit in the conch shell one day, so he could move them over here.

He found some clean animal hides, wiped them down with water, and then warmed them over the fire inside the cave. Only after confirming they were dry and warm did he lay them out on the stone slab bed.

“From now on, the three of you will sleep here.”

He bent down and kissed each of the kids on the cheek.

The three cubs sniffed the hides, pawed at them, then obediently lay down and curled up together.

Naidou’s big tail rested on Maodou’s belly, Maodou’s front leg rested on Naidou’s chest, and Tangdou was sandwiched between his two brothers. Zhang Shuguang stroked their fur and patted them gently. “Go to sleep.”

The three cubs obediently closed their eyes, and Zhang Shuguang returned to his stone slab bed. He pulled the hide over himself, then called out to Xiao Cai.

“Give me the phone.”

Holding the phone, he glanced at the 85% battery level in the top right corner and raised an eyebrow slightly. He must have completed quite a few tasks these past two days; otherwise, there’s no way the battery would still have this much charge left after redeeming points.

He swiped the screen twice, then opened the video album.

He scanned the thumbnails and found a video taken during a family gathering—a 1-minute 33-second clip that focused on the dishes his mother had prepared.

Ms. Cuilan loved to cook. Although they had a chef at home, every weekend she would go to the market herself to buy ingredients and prepare a sumptuous dinner for the family. No matter how busy they were, he and his brother would always make time to come home for the meal.

Zhang Shuguang remembered that he had bought a new set of patterned porcelain for his mother that day, and she had praised him several times for it. He watched the video from start to finish, then rewound the progress bar to watch it again, and again.

He heard footsteps behind him, turned his head, and saw Mang Jiu standing beside him.

Zhang Shuguang put his phone away and asked, “Have they all left?”

Mang Jiu nodded. “Missing your family again?”

“Mm-hmm,” Zhang Shuguang looked up at him, only to see Mang Jiu crouch down and bring his handsome face close. He flinched back slightly. “What are you doing?”

Mang Jiu said, “I want a kiss.”

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened. “Your mind jumps to conclusions a bit too quickly.” Mang Jiu looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“I said I miss my family—why did you suddenly bring up kissing?” Zhang Shuguang glared at him, his face full of wariness, afraid he might suddenly lean in for a kiss.

It’s not that I can’t kiss him… No, wait!

I can’t kiss him!

Mang Jiu pointed at the three kids sleeping on the other stone bed. “You definitely just kissed them.” Zhang Shuguang blinked. “Ah, well, they’re them, and you’re you.”

“What’s the difference?” Mang Jiu pressed.

Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched. He thought back to when Mang Jiu had said he wanted to be part of his family, and how wronged and moved he’d felt at the time. He couldn’t bring himself to say that Mang Jiu was any different from the three kids.

His eyes darted around, and he replied, “You’re all grown up now. I can’t kiss you.” Mang Jiu said, “I’m younger than you.”

Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched. “That’s right—big brothers and little brothers don’t just kiss each other casually!”

“We’ve kissed before, so why can’t we kiss now?” Mang Jiu stared at him, determined to get a straight answer. Zhang Shuguang was stumped.

That’s right—they’d kissed once before, so why couldn’t they kiss again?

Of course—their relationship just looked a little off, no matter how you looked at it!

Brothers? What kind of brothers kiss each other?

Since he turned eighteen, he hadn’t kissed his brother—or even his own mother! Usually, only his little nephew got a kiss from him. Zhang Shuguang felt a headache coming on.

Mang Jiu reached out, held his face steady, then leaned down and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. Zhang Shuguang was completely dumbfounded.

“How could you just go in for a kiss without warning!”

Mang Jiu gave a soft “Oh,” then warned him in advance, “I’m going to kiss you.” He leaned down and planted another smacking kiss. 

Zhang Shuguang: “……”

Mang Jiu cupped his face with both hands. After staring at his eyes—wide with surprise—for a moment, he gently pressed his hands together, bringing them closer. Zhang Shuguang’s cheeks were pressed together, and his lips puckered involuntarily.

Mang Jiu smiled. “Cute.” 

Zhang Shuguang struggled. “Let go!” 

Mang Jiu: “I’m going to kiss you.”

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened. “No way!”

Mang Jiu planted another kiss—this time not on his cheek, but directly on his lips. Zhang Shuguang froze.

“Are you crazy?!” He couldn’t control his volume and shouted. His first kiss!

Gone!

The three kids were startled.

Mang Jiu turned his head to glance at them, and the three kids lay back down to continue sleeping. Their father and Dad kissing each other—no need to make a big deal out of it.

Zhang Shuguang slapped Mang Jiu’s arm and snapped, “Let go of my face!”

Having his face pinned like that felt absolutely awful!

Seeing his expression, Mang Jiu knew he’d really set him off. After a moment’s thought, he said, “You can’t get angry.”

“And you have the nerve to tell me not to get angry?” Zhang Shuguang slapped him twice more, but since Mang Jiu’s arm was all hard muscle, it actually made his own palm hurt.

Mang Jiu asked, “Why are you mad?” 

“You kissed me!”

“Yeah, I kissed you, and it felt pretty good.” Mang Jiu smiled happily, curling his lips, and leaned in closer. “I want to kiss you again.”

His voice suddenly dropped to a low growl. Zhang Shuguang froze, and the words of refusal on his lips were cut off. The brief, fleeting contact of moments ago was gone. Mang Jiu pressed his lips against Zhang Shuguang’s for a long moment before finally pulling away.

Zhang Shuguang’s face flushed bright red, and the color spread rapidly to his neck, shoulders, and chest. Not only that, but he felt as though even the soles of his feet might be turning red!

Mang Jiu blinked, looked down at himself, and suddenly said, “I feel a little off.”

Zhang Shuguang caught a glimpse of the massive bulge stirring beneath the leather skirt in the firelight. He shoved Mang Jiu away, then pulled the leather over his head. “Go to sleep! You’re acting strange because you’re just too tired!”

Mang Jiu tilted his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes! Are you going to listen to me or not? Go to sleep!” Zhang Shuguang growled from beneath the hide. Mang Jiu gave a soft “Oh” and returned to his stone slab bed.

Zhang Shuguang felt like steam was about to rise from his body. He really hadn’t expected Mang Jiu to be this direct! And what’s more, he didn’t find it the least bit annoying!

Aaaargh!

Aren’t I straight?!?! When did I become not straight?!?!

Ahh!!

He curled up, pulling his legs in, and despised himself.

Xiao Cai: “Master, am I gonna go into hibernation?”

Zhang Shuguang was startled by Xiao Cai’s electronic voice, and only then did he remember that he’d hastily shoved his phone under his jacket earlier and forgotten to hide it again.

“Yeah.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, isn’t there anything you want to ask me?” 

Zhang Shuguang, puzzled: “What are you hiding from me now?”

Xiao Cai: “No, no, I really don’t know anything.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Then what did you just say for me to ask?”

Xiao Cai: “Just about the Points Store.”

Only then did Zhang Shuguang remember that he hadn’t checked what had been updated in the Points Store.

“You update pretty fast. Open the Points Store so I can take a look.”

A virtual screen appeared before his eyes, and under the Points Store section, there were now many short videos.

The point redemption rate wasn’t too high—a three-minute short video cost twenty points, which was much lower than the hundred or so points he’d initially feared they might be trying to rip him off with.

He scanned through the list from top to bottom; the selection was quite comprehensive.

“I’ll redeem the Papermaking skill and check it out.”

The short video started playing, and the three minutes were over in a flash.

Zhang Shuguang only remembered that tree bark was needed; he hadn’t caught everything else. “Replay.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, short videos cannot be replayed. If you want to watch it again, you’ll have to redeem it again.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “……” 

No wonder the redemption points weren’t high—it turns out this is a one-time deal!

I’ve been ripped off!

He snapped angrily, “Is it really okay for you guys to be so greedy?”

Xiao Cai: “The price was set by the main system; it has nothing to do with me. Plus, there’s a discount if you redeem it within 24 hours.”

Zhang Shuguang gritted his teeth. “Redeem it again. Give me the phone.”

He threw off the covers and got out of bed, walking barefoot quickly to the edge of Mang Jiu’s stone slab bed and nudging him. Mang Jiu opened his eyes and looked at him.

Zhang Shuguang shoved his phone in front of him and said, “Look, memorize every bit of it!”

Mang Jiu didn’t know what was going on, but he obediently watched the short video playing on the phone. Three minutes later, the screen went dark, and Zhang Shuguang asked, “Did you memorize it?” 

Mang Jiu nodded. “Yeah.”

Zhang Shuguang asked again, “Did you memorize it all?” 

Mang Jiu nodded again, “Yes.”

Zhang Shuguang was satisfied. “Very good. Go to sleep.”

Seeing him walk back barefoot, Mang Jiu asked in confusion, “Why do I need to remember this?” Zhang Shuguang looked serious. “This is very useful. I’ll tell you tomorrow when you wake up.”

Mang Jiu said nothing more, and Zhang Shuguang put away his phone, returned to the stone slab bed, and closed his eyes to sleep.

The next morning, Zhang Shuguang opened his eyes to find Mang Jiu and the three kids still asleep. He got out of bed quietly, put on his shoes, and stepped out of the cave.

He saw quite a few half-finished clay pieces on the table—pots, plates, bowls, and two that looked like miniature water jars with wide openings. He reached out to touch them; they were half-dry and slightly damp.

He then felt the jar he’d left to dry on the hearth. It was wetter than the ones he’d blown directly, but its color was deeper than those outside.

Zhang Shuguang thought for a moment, then moved the rest of the items into the hearth. Fortunately, Mang Jiu had built the hearth at the bottom of the oven large enough; otherwise, there wouldn’t have been room for all these bowls, plates, and jars.

After moving everything, he washed his hands and pinched a meat strip that had been drying all night to check its moisture level.

He discovered that—whether because the nights here weren’t as humid or because the strips were cut thinner—they had already dried halfway after just one night.

Another day of drying should be enough to roast them—though if they’re too hard, they might be tough to chew?

Thinking back to the air-dried beef jerky he’d eaten before—which had a texture like dry twigs but became more fragrant and flavorful the more he chewed—he couldn’t help but swallow.

“You got up earlier than I did today.”

Mang Jiu stood at the cave entrance and asked, “Are those meat strips ready to eat yet?”

“Not yet. They need to dry for another day. They should be ready by tonight,” Zhang Shuguang withdrew his hand and turned to look at him. “What do you want to eat?”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “I’m going hunting with the hunting party today.” Zhang Shuguang was taken aback.

Recently, Mang Jiu had been by his side constantly, so hearing him say he was going out to hunt felt a bit strange.

Besides, he remembered Hua mentioning yesterday that the Beastmen were going out to hunt terror birds, and he frowned with concern. “What are you going to hunt?” 

Mang Jiu asked him, “What kind of meat do you want to eat?”

“Me?” Zhang Shuguang raised a finger and pointed at himself. “You’re going to hunt whatever I want to eat?”

Mang Jiu nodded, his tone matter-of-fact. “Right, if you want it, I’ll hunt it for you.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled and patted his shoulder. “Then hunt up plenty of meat. I reckon the first batch of sea salt should be arriving soon. Once we have enough salt, we can start curing and drying the meat. The weather’s perfect right now, but if it starts raining in a while, we won’t be able to dry it.”

Mang Jiu said, “Alright, so what kind of meat do you want?”

It seemed he wasn’t going to leave today until he got an answer.

Zhang Shuguang went into the cave and came out a moment later, saying to him, “What kinds of game are there in the areas where you guys go hunting? Actually, there are quite a few types I’d like. We’re heading to the gathering soon, right? If we can make a batch of cured meat before the gathering, we can take it there to trade for some supplies.”

Mang Jiu: “Just tell me what kind of meat you want first. I’ll see what I can catch. If I don’t have it, I’ll go catch it when I get back.”

“Hog beast, ox—the fat can be rendered for oil—and deer are fine too,” he looked up at Mang Jiu. “If you come across any sheep, bring those back as well.”

“You know what a Meimei Beast is?” Mang Jiu raised his hand and smoothed down the boy’s tousled hair. “Meimei Beasts don’t have much meat, but their fur is really thick.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Right, thick fur is best—we can spin it into yarn. Don’t worry about it. Just get me a Meimei Beast. It’s going to get hot soon, and I can’t wear animal skins every day—I’d get heat rash.”

“We’ll wear leaves when it gets hot.”

Zhang Shuguang pressed his hand to his forehead. “No way. I’m going to make sure you all wear proper clothes. You can’t possibly wear leaves!”

He knew that many tribes of wild people used large tree leaves and animal bones to cover their private parts, but the idea of wrapping a bunch of leaves around his waist… He’d rather wear animal skins and get a butt full of itchy heat rash! Although wool yarn wasn’t much cooler than animal skins, it was still better than leaves!

Mang Jiu didn’t quite understand why he was so worked up, but adhering to the principle that whatever Zhang Shuguang said was right, he nodded decisively. “Alright, I’ll bring them all back for you.”

“You have to be careful, you know? I heard from Sister Hua that a lot of Beastmen in the tribe want to go hunt terror birds. She said they’re very dangerous.” Zhang Shuguang frowned as he warned, “Don’t go doing dangerous things just because you’re big.”

Mang Jiu chuckled. “There aren’t that many terror birds for them to hunt. Don’t worry—there aren’t any terrorbirds in the hunting grounds near the tribe.” 

“Why not?” Zhang Shuguang wasn’t very familiar with the local wildlife, so he asked, “Are the hunting grounds far away?”

“I’ll take you to see for yourself when I get the chance. It’s hard to explain.” Mang Jiu glanced up at the sun in the sky. “I’m off.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded, but remembering the last time he’d eaten too much and couldn’t shift back into human form, he couldn’t help but grab him again and warn, “Don’t eat too much.”

“It’s fine. If I can’t turn back into human form, I’ll just have them bring the prey back.” Mang Jiu squeezed his hand. Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, I’m not worried about running out of meat—I’m worried you’ll be out too long and not come home!

But he couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud—it would make it seem like he couldn’t live without Mang Jiu. Although, come to think of it, he did feel a little reluctant to leave.

He sniffed and let go of his hand. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll take the kids to fertilize the vegetable seedlings in the field later.” Mang Jiu reached out and pulled him close, whispering in his ear, “I want a kiss.”

Zhang Shuguang: “…Have you gotten addicted to kissing?”

“Mm, just one kiss.” Mang Jiu tilted his head and planted a kiss on his ear.

Zhang Shuguang’s body jolted—only then did he realize just how sensitive his ear was!

Σ( ° △°）！！！！

“You’d better get going! You’ll be late leaving if you linger. Hurry up, hurry up.” With his face flushed red, Zhang Shuguang pushed Mang Jiu down the path leading down the mountain; at that moment, he didn’t want Mang Jiu to stay even a minute longer.

After Mang Jiu left, Zhang Shuguang quickly made breakfast. After eating with the kids and just finishing clearing the dishes, Mang Qiqi came over.

“Uncle Shuguang, what are we doing today?” Mang Qiqi was full of energy and looked wide-eyed with excitement. “My father made braised pork this morning. It’s not as fragrant as yours, but it’s still pretty tasty.”

Zhang Shuguang grinned mischievously. “I’m going to fertilize the vegetable seedlings in the field today.”

“Fertilize?” Mang Qiqi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What’s fertilizing?”

Zhang Shuguang thought of the child’s keen sense of smell and felt that what he was about to ask him to do was a bit too gross, so he said, “The fertilizer here is fermented manure. I’m going over to the big pit to dig up some manure.”

Mang Qiqi’s eyes widened, and he looked completely startled. “That stinks!”

“Yeah, but it makes the soil fertile and helps the vegetables grow better.” Zhang Shuguang ruffled his hair. “Don’t come with me. How about you stay here and play with your little brothers and sister?”

He had originally planned to take the three kids to the fields with him, but when he thought about the things he had to do today and the potential trauma it might cause their young minds, he changed his mind. “I’ll be back at noon to cook for you all. You’re in charge of watching them—don’t let them get hurt, okay?”

Mang Qiqi nodded repeatedly. “No problem. I promise I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Zhang Shuguang thanked him, then explained to the three kids what he was going to do. Grabbing an empty wooden bucket and a stone scoop, he headed down the mountain. Today, he had a big task ahead of him!

Dig and then apply fertilizer!

Just thinking about it made him feel incredibly… great!

“Shuguang! Where are you going? Can I come with you?” Zhang Shuguang turned around and saw Tianlu, his face flushed with shyness. The corner of his mouth twitched. “If you want to, you can.”

Tianlu hurried over and smiled at him. “I’ve wanted to learn how to cook from you for a long time. Could you teach me today?”

“Sure. I’m heading out to tend the fields now. If you want, you can come along.” After saying that, Zhang Shuguang paused for a moment, then added, “Mang Jiu actually really likes to help out.”

Tianlu nodded eagerly. “I’ll learn from you!”

Whatever Brother Jiu likes, I want to learn!

Zhang Shuguang smiled at him sincerely and said, “Then thank you in advance.”