Meanwhile, Xiong Kui led the beastmen on a search of the surrounding area, digging three feet deep in search of earthworms and centipedes. They didn’t find a single one, but they did dig up quite a few deep pits, each containing numerous skeletal remains.

“We’ve hit an old nest.”

“Do you guys feel the heat? Did I move too roughly just now?”

“It is pretty hot.”

“Something’s not right, Chief.”

Xiong Kui frowned. “Let’s go. We need to get out of here.”

They hurried back to the cave, where Xiong Kui went straight to find Zhang Shuguang.

“I think something might have shifted underground here.” Xiong Kui paced back and forth with his hands behind his back. “There are lots of skeletal remains and dried skin in those pits, and the ground is hot.”

Zhang Shuguang gently bit the dry skin on his lip with his teeth, lowering his eyes in thought. After a long moment, he suddenly looked up at Xiong Kui and asked urgently, “Besides the high temperature, is there also white smoke rising from the cracks in the ground over there? Is the soil red? What are the rocks like over there—are they easily crumbled?”

Xiong Kui was taken aback by his questions.

It wasn’t just Xiong Kui who was stunned; the few beastmen who had followed him were also taken aback.

It wasn’t that they were caught off guard by the question—they had all seen exactly what Zhang Shuguang was describing. Everything he said was spot on!

Zhang Shuguang, clutching his backpack, exclaimed excitedly, “Quick, take me to see it.”

“See what?” Mang Jiu reached out to hold him back. “Do you know what’s going on there?”

“I suspect it’s an underground coal fire—the ore’s spontaneously combusting. Do you remember me telling you about that black stone that can be used for fire?” Zhang Shuguang looked at Mang Jiu with sparkling eyes; the joy on his face was plain for anyone to see—he was genuinely thrilled right now.

Mang Jiu hummed in acknowledgment. “I’ll go with you.”

Zhang Shuguang was about to agree, but then he thought of the harm the burning gases could cause to the body. Although inhaling a little wouldn’t be a big problem, Mang Jiu had only just started to recover. If he went over there, there was no telling what kind of impact it might have on his health.

He shook his head. “No, you stay here and wait. I’ll go take a look. If it really is an underground coal fire, we have to put it out while it’s just starting—otherwise, the consequences could be endless!”

Mang Jiu furrowed his brow and asked, “Is it very dangerous?”

“If we let it burn unchecked, this hunting ground might soon be devoid of all life.” Zhang Shuguang’s expression turned grave, his earlier excitement vanishing completely. “Judging by yesterday’s uprising of those earthworms, the fire has likely only just started. If we locate the source and douse it with a massive amount of water, we can put it out in time.”

The others listening to him nearby began to feel tense without even realizing it.

The hunting grounds surrounding the Cliffside Tribe were the hunting areas on which their ancestors had depended for generations. If, as Zhang Shuguang said, a mass extinction were to occur, it would directly affect them!

“Don’t worry too much. Is that area close to a water source?” Zhang Shuguang asked. Xiong Kui nodded. “Yes, it’s not far from the Dongchuan River.”

“That’ll make putting out the fire even easier. Just have the beastmen dig a trench to divert the water over there.” Zhang Shuguang clapped his hands. “Come on, let’s go take a look first.” He reached out to hold back Mang Jiu, who was about to follow, and glared at him with a stern expression: “You’re not allowed to go! If you go, I’ll get angry!”

Suddenly recalling Zhang Shuguang’s earlier threat of separation, Mang Jiu reluctantly stopped in his tracks. “Fine, I won’t go.”

Seeing the hint of hurt in his eyes, Zhang Shuguang cleared his throat, tiptoed up, and planted a smacking kiss on his chin. “Good boy. I’ll make you something delicious when I get back.”

Mang Jiu raised a hand to pinch his cheek, then leaned down to kiss his lips. “Come back soon.” Zhang Shuguang’s face flushed bright red as he nodded in agreement.

Xiong Kui shifted into his beast form. Before Zhang Shuguang could say a word, Mang Jiu grabbed his arms and lifted him up like a child, then set him down on the giant bear’s back.

Zhang Shuguang: “……” Life is just too hard!

“Hold on tight and get down.” Seeing him sitting there dumbfounded, Mang Jiu reached out and pressed down on his back. “If anything happens, have them charge forward. You just stay out of the way.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded repeatedly. “Okay, okay, I got it, I got it.”

The pit the beasts had dug wasn’t far from the cave. Zhang Shuguang felt Xiong Kui start running, but he stopped not long after.

He watched the wispy white smoke drifting out of the crevice in the ground. Sliding down from the giant bear’s back, he bent down to touch the soil—it didn’t feel hot to the touch.

“You guys really dug this pit deep.” Zhang Shuguang stood at the edge of the pit and looked down; it felt just as deep as looking down from the fourth level of the cave.

“We didn’t dig much,” Xiong Kui said from beside him, wrapping his leather skirt around his waist and standing with his hands on his hips. “Those beast-form guys went up there and stomped on it a couple of times. It collapsed before we even had a chance to dig.”

Zhang Shuguang’s face twitched.

He looked around and saw no way down. Taking a deep breath, he shuffled downwards in tiny steps. The pit reeked—a choking stench mixed with a foul, fishy odor.

Zhang Shuguang raised his hand to cover his nose, regretting that he’d only packed a small trowel in his backpack. He should have brought a piece of animal hide to make a mask. But thoughts aside, he pulled out the trowel and began digging in the ground.

The red soil was mixed with a few stones. He raised the small hoe and struck the stone twice. With just a little force, the stone shattered.

He pursed his lips, walked over to the crack where white smoke was rising, and pressed his hand against the ground.

“It’s definitely gotten a lot hotter.”

Xiong Kui walked over and asked, “How do you know if something’s burning underground?”

“If it weren’t burning, how could all those insects have moved en masse? And if the ground were shaking, why would only they flee while the other wild beasts stayed put? It doesn’t make sense.” Zhang Shuguang crouched there, digging with his small hoe until he reached a depth of about half a foot. “Chief, feel the temperature here. Then dig a hole a little further away and check the temperature there.”

Xiong Kui scooped up a handful of soil and nodded slightly. “So this is where the fire started?”

“Even if it isn’t, it can’t be too far away.” Zhang Shuguang walked around the pit, forming a plan. “Chief, where is the Dongchuan River?”

Xiong Kui pointed, “Not far.”

Zhang Shuguang gave a wry laugh. “You’re not far’ and my ‘not far’ might be quite a different distance.”

Xiong Kui tilted his head back to look at the sky, then, after a long moment, said uncertainly, “I guess… is it that far from the salt fields to the beach? Pretty much… I think so.”

Zhang Shuguang crouched there, covering his face with both hands, chuckling quietly. It was too cute—one sentence had made him sound more and more uncertain.

Xiong Kui probably realized that as the leader, he couldn’t sound so unsure, so he quickly put on a serious face. “Right, it’s exactly that far from the salt fields to the coast.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile. “Mm-hmm. You’re the elder, so whatever you say goes.”

“Don’t worry about how big the fire is down there. Just pour water in first. If it’s an underground coal fire, we’ll put it out; if not, we’ll just have dug a pond here.” He stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. “Once the white smoke stops billowing out of here, we’ll come back and dig a pit. If we strike coal, the tribe won’t have to fear the cold this winter.”

Xiong Kui nodded repeatedly and, without another word, shouted for the beastmen to shift forms and get to work.

Zhang Shuguang had already witnessed the beastmen’s efficiency before, and now that they’d heard about the danger and severity of the underground coal fire, they were even more eager to get to work.

The rumbling sounds never ceased. Zhang Shuguang stood on high ground and watched for a while. When he realized his direction and input were no longer needed, he decided to take a walk around the area.

“Chief,” he called out to the giant bear digging at the ground with its paws at the bottom of the pit, “Chief!”

Xiong Kui stopped what he was doing at the sound and turned his head to look over.

Zhang Shuguang waved at him. “Could you accompany me for a walk around here? I’d like to find something to eat.”

Xiong Kui walked over, turned his back to him, and shifted into human form. As he tied his leather skirt, he said, “There shouldn’t be much to eat around here. The area is teeming with earthworms and multi-legged beasts. When they’re hungry, they’ll eat anything—even their own kind.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “I heard them mention that earlier, so I thought I’d venture a bit further. While the injured can recover by eating meat, they still need other nutrients. Besides, Uncle Mang Yue and Uncle Lang Qing are getting on in years—I just can’t bear to watch them gnawing on raw meat while they’re still wounded.”

Don’t all wounded people need something warm, tender, and easy to digest?

But look at them—relying on their strength as beastmen, they actually turned their noses up at the roasted meat, grabbing raw meat and shoving it straight into their mouths. Even if raw meat can provide most of the energy their bodies need, they aren’t just beasts—they’re still human, and as humans, they need to eat grains, fruits, and vegetables to maintain a normal cycle.

As far as he knew, these injured beastmen—including Mang Jiu—had likely gone twenty-four hours without a bowel movement!

This was not a good sign, especially for those who had undergone abdominal suturing. What if it really was an intestinal obstruction? He had completely forgotten to tell them that they should only eat after passing gas.

“…I think I’ll head back.” The more he thought about it, the more anxious he felt, and his complexion began to look a bit off. “Chief, when you were with them, did you ever hear them pass gas?”

Xiong Kui was taken aback by the question. He rubbed his hands together and asked innocently, “What do you mean by ‘passing gas’?”

“Farting.” Zhang Shuguang looked up at him with an innocent expression. “A penetrating abdominal wound can easily damage the intestines,” he said, tracing circles on his own stomach to show Xiong Kui. “There are many intestines inside the abdomen. Although injuries can heal, if a blockage occurs, it can lead to very serious problems—it could be fatal.”

The more Xiong Kui listened, the wider his eyes grew; he was clearly startled again.

Seeing that Xiong Kui was on the verge of losing his temper, Zhang Shuguang quickly added, “If gas is released after the wound is sutured, that’s what ‘passing gas’ means.” He scratched his head. “You can only start drinking water and eating after passing gas. I was in such a rush yesterday that I forgot about this. I’m worried they ate so much meat today…Should we go back first?”

Xiong Kui nodded vigorously. “Let’s go, let’s go. We can’t let them die from a fart after all the trouble we went through to save them.”

Zhang Shuguang let out a snort and couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Chief, it’s not that serious. Let’s go back and check. If they’ve all passed gas, they’ll be fine.” Xiong Kui grunted in agreement, then transformed back into a giant bear and lay down on the ground.

Zhang Shuguang grabbed hold of the long hair and used his feet to push himself up, struggling all the way to the top.

He thought he should make a bamboo ladder; if nothing else, it would come in handy when climbing.

Gripping Xiong Kui’s back fur, he lowered his body. The giant bear let out a roar to alert the busy beasts, then took off at full speed.

Outside the cave, Mang Jiu looked up at the gloomy sky, then glanced at the dozen or so half-eaten earthworms left behind. Turning to Ying Wu inside the cave, he said, “It’s going to rain. Burn those worms’ corpses first, and move the hard shells, claws, and venomous spines to the cave next door.”

Ying Wu nodded in agreement. As he stepped out, he casually pulled a burning log from the fire. “What about the ones that are still alive?” Mang Jiu pondered for a moment, then replied coldly, “Leave two halves for Shuguang to play with. Burn the rest.”

They both knew that if they gave these insects a chance to burrow underground and hide, it wouldn’t be long before they multiplied into a massive swarm. By then, the consequences would be truly endless.

“Alright.” Ying Wu called out to Lang Yi, and the two of them went to set the insect carcasses ablaze.

When the half-alive earthworm was set ablaze, it emitted a shrill buzzing sound that was extremely piercing. The beastmen inside the cave all raised their hands to cover their ears in unison. Lang Qing coughed a few times and said hoarsely, “I didn’t hear them scream when we killed them?”

“They’re afraid of fire.” Mang Jiu was the only one who hadn’t covered his ears. Standing at the cave entrance with his arms crossed, he watched coldly as the insects writhed on the ground, consumed by the flames.

“I wonder if it’s because their skin is oily or something,” he mused. “They caught fire instantly without any kindling.”

Mang Jiu thought to himself that Zhang Shuguang’s story about the underground coal fires must be true. Since these insects were so afraid of fire, they’d fled en masse to avoid being burned or roasted alive.

As the insects writhed, the flames on their bodies ignited the corpses of the insects they came into contact with. Billowing black smoke spread into the sky, carrying with it the acrid scent of burning flesh.

Zhang Shuguang lay on the ground, his head raised, and saw the thick smoke not far away.

“Is that grilled meat?” he asked uncertainly.

Xiong Kui’s sense of smell was far keener than Zhang Shuguang’s; the faint, charred aroma of grilled meat wafting through the air caused him to unconsciously pick up the pace. Even without hearing a reply, Zhang Shuguang was certain of the answer simply by sensing the increase in speed.

It was grilled meat—and a kind he’d never tasted before. As they drew closer, the aroma of meat in the air grew stronger.

“It smells so good. What kind of meat is it?” His stomach growled a few times.

Xiong Kui didn’t say a word; speaking at such high speed would be asking for a bitten tongue.

They weren’t far now, and before long, Zhang Shuguang saw what was being grilled.

He twitched the corner of his mouth, sat up straight on Xiong Kui’s back, and stared at the raging flames. Unable to hold back, he ran his hand through Xiong Kui’s fur. “Chief… that’s… insect carcasses, isn’t it?”

Xiong Kui swallowed hard, letting out a deep, guttural sound.

“Ah, I suppose so…” He took two steps forward, his eyes fixed on the flames. “Shuguang, is this stuff… edible?” Zhang Shuguang twitched the corner of his mouth. “It’s definitely meat, and it smells genuinely delicious, but I don’t know if we can eat it.” He looked quite troubled. Although eating insects has been a practice since ancient times, these giant, mutated insects were definitely not part of that tradition.

This thing… it eats people!

He slid down from Xiong Kui’s back and turned to look toward the cave. Mang Jiu was standing there, his eyes fixed on him.

Zhang Shuguang turned to the salivating Xiong Kui and said, “Chief, I’m heading back first. If you want to eat it, go ahead and try. After all, Uncle Ying Cao still has some antidote potion over there that can be used.”

The implication was clear: even if he got poisoned, he could just drink some antidote—it would only give him a bit of diarrhea, but it wouldn’t kill him.

Xiong Kui’s eyes lit up. That’s a great idea!

He rushed frantically toward the fire. He had to get them to put it out first; otherwise, if it burned much longer, everything would turn to ash—and then there’d be nothing left to eat!

Zhang Shuguang stared in astonishment at his expression—as if he’d never eaten grilled meat before—and called out with a laugh, “Chief, take it easy! Don’t burn the fur!”

Mang Jiu walked over, reached out naturally, took his hand, turned, and led him back, asking, “How’s it going over there?”

Zhang Shuguang recounted what had happened, then tilted his chin toward him with a hint of pride. “Pretty impressive, huh? Let’s go check it out again in a while. If the fire’s out, we can start digging. We’ll figure out how to do it then.”

Mang Jiu nodded. Noticing that his backpack was empty except for the small hoe, he asked curiously, “Didn’t you take a look around while they were digging the ditch? There’s a grove of trees a little further ahead; you could’ve picked some fruit to bring back.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed and took off his backpack. “I was actually planning to go for a walk, but when I was talking to the chief, I suddenly remembered the ‘venting’ thing.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face, he chuckled, “Venting’ just means farting. I came back to see if they’d farted yet.”

Thankfully, the people here weren’t that shy; otherwise, being asked one by one if you’d farted… well, Zhang Shuguang would be the one feeling embarrassed.

Upon learning that everyone had already “vented,” Zhang Shuguang breathed a sigh of relief and said to Mang Jiu, “I’ll make some potato and meat porridge—the thick kind. Everyone should have some.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Mang Jiu said, placing a hand on his shoulder as they walked out. “That bug meat will be enough to fill them up. I’ll take you to dig up some potatoes.”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at him. “Aren’t you going to eat any? I feel like the aroma of this grilled meat is incredibly tempting to you, beastmen.” 

“I’m not eating it,” Mang Jiu said calmly. “Just looking at it makes me feel sick.”

By then, the two had reached the cave entrance. Zhang Shuguang picked up his backpack, but Mang Jiu took it directly from him. “What do you think we need to make porridge?”

“Actually, we should put some rice in it. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found any rice. The sorghum in the coastal forest hasn’t ripened yet, so it’s not edible either.” Zhang Shuguang sighed. “I hope I can bring back some useful seeds from the gathering. Do you know where there are potatoes around here?”

“Hmm, no one’s digging there. It’s a huge patch.” Mang Jiu slung the basket across his chest and bent down. “Hop on.”

Zhang Shuguang leaped up from the ground, wrapped his arms around Mang Jiu’s neck, and said with a smile, “Let’s go! Off to dig up some potatoes!”

The spot Mang Jiu mentioned wasn’t far—judging by the direction, it was on the way back to the tribe. Zhang Shuguang rested his chin on Mang Jiu’s shoulder and muttered out of the blue, “I tricked it before, saying I’d died four times, and it didn’t deny any of it. The first time was the one I told you about—I saw a young boy being pushed down the mountain. The second time, I was drained of blood and flesh and pushed down the mountain. The third time, after I saved someone, a wild beast swatted me off the mountain with a single claw.”

Mang Jiu chimed in, “The fourth time was when you were buying seeds for your mom and got hit by that car you mentioned.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “Right. I suspect that after the fourth death, it pulled me back to this world. Maybe it was due to that ‘spacetime turbulence’ it mentioned, or perhaps a spatial misalignment, or I suspect its power wasn’t strong enough, so I returned shortly after my second death. That’s why I came back to life after you found me—otherwise, what you’d have found would’ve been a real corpse, the corpse of my second life. Do you understand what I mean?”

Mang Jiu could probably follow what he was saying. Although there were some terms he hadn’t heard before, it didn’t prevent him from understanding, though the explanation was a bit confusing.

“What conclusion did you reach?”

Zhang Shuguang took a deep breath and said, “There’s no possibility of me being reborn again.”

If the main system’s power were truly stable, his fourth reincarnation should have remained within the original beastman world. Yet he had been reborn in the modern world.

Not only that, but if the Main System’s capabilities were intact, after his fourth death, he should have returned to the beastman world to restart his fourth reincarnation. Now that everything had been thrown into disarray, he surmised that the Main System’s power was no longer sufficient to sustain his next reincarnation.

To put it simply, he has a total of five lives, and this is his last one. If he dies, it’s truly over—there’s no chance to rewind and start over.

Of course, all of this was just his guess—or rather, what he’d deduced from the Main System’s attitude. As for what was really going on, he’d have to find an opportunity to ask.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Mang Jiu said coldly, tightening his grip on Zhang Shuguang’s legs. Zhang Shuguang grinned, tilted his head, and blew into his ear. “Easy there—you’re hurting me!”

Mang Jiu loosened his grip. “Don’t go thinking about those weird things.”

Zhang Shuguang hummed in response and rubbed his chin against Zhang’s shoulder. “I know. I’m not overthinking it—I just wanted to let you know. Besides, I’ve always felt that my return here wasn’t a coincidence, though I’m not exactly sure what’s going on.”

Mang Jiu nodded slightly. “What are your plans?”

“Me? Of course, I’m going to raise the kids with you until they’re big and healthy. Then we’ll eat good food every day, and I’m going to build a house! When we get back, let’s put a door on the cave so it can keep out the wind and rain. I also want to move some of the sorghum to the fields—I need to watch them grow.” Zhang Shuguang wiggled his toes, speaking cheerfully, “Then we’ll dig out the coal mine and try to have it ready before the snow season.”

Mang Jiu: “Anything else?”

“There’s too much. If you make me think about it one by one, I might not even be able to remember it all.” Zhang Shuguang scratched his chin with his finger. “Don’t worry, I really don’t have that much time to think about all that nonsense. Look, life just goes on day by day. I have to run around and work hard every day just to eat and drink—it’s exhausting.”

Mang Jiu: “……”

Zhang Shuguang got more and more carried away as he spoke, chuckling, “Besides, I’ve still got you! If there really are any schemes or tricks, and I can’t outsmart them, I can always have you beat them up for me. Anyone who dares to bully me—I’ll beat them up!”

Mang Jiu was completely speechless. This wasn’t the same thing at all.

Zhang Shuguang pinched his chin and wiggled it back and forth. “I really, really, really won’t dwell on all that nonsense. Even if I really am the Divine Son, so what? We’ll talk about everything else once I’ve recovered all my memories. Right now, I just want to live a good life.”

Mang Jiu gave a soft nod. “Okay.”

Zhang Shuguang rested his cheek against Mang Jiu’s shoulder, refraining from asking about the nature of their current relationship. He felt that if he asked, Mang Jiu would give him an answer that would leave him speechless.

Besides, he’d always thought of himself as a straight man. Even though he was in his twenties and still single, he never imagined he might not actually be straight?

He despised himself. They’d only known each other for a short while, and already they’d kissed—and enjoyed it, too!

Pfft!

What a shameless guy!

Why couldn’t he have shown a little more restraint!

Mang Jiu stopped in his tracks, tilted his head, and let his ear brush lightly against Zhang Shuguang’s face. Zhang Shuguang blinked, straightened up, and looked around. “Are we here?”

“What were you thinking just now?” Mang Jiu asked.

Zhang Shuguang suddenly realized that the two of them were currently in a state of telepathic connection. Had Mang Jiu “heard” all the thoughts he’d been muttering to himself just now?

His heart raced, and his words stumbled out: “I was just… um… thinking about… kissing…” Mang Jiu set him down on the ground and, without another word, leaned in to kiss him.

Zhang Shuguang was filled with bitter indignation.

“I really am… why can’t I get my words straight!”

After their lips pressed together for a moment, Mang Jiu sat up straight, pressed his finger against Zhang Shuguang’s lips, his eyes brimming with amusement, and said gently, “There’s a small patch of potatoes over there. We see it every time we come by, but no one’s dug them up.”

Zhang Shuguang’s lips were numb from his touch. He slapped the back of his hand and glared at him. “Stop getting all handsy. Go dig some up and bring them back. Looks like it’s going to rain.”

Mang Jiu took his hand and led him forward. Zhang Shuguang tilted his head to look at him, a faint smile playing on his face. He’s so handsome!

Even though I’m gay, the man I’ve found is a total catch in every way—a truly exceptional guy! Smart, capable, and thoughtful—you’d be hard-pressed to find someone like him even if you searched high and low.

Hehe.

And I stumbled upon him.

Hehehe, and I’ve got him right in my grasp.

He licked his lips, then gently bit his lower lip with his upper teeth. The kiss was actually… quite pleasant.

Our body heat was passing between us at that small point of contact. Hehehe, how embarrassing!

He was so lost in thought that his mind was practically racing toward an R-rated scenario.

Mang Jiu gave him a strange look. He noticed that although he was looking straight ahead, his gaze was wandering, and his face was still adorned with a smile that was… well, no matter how you described it, it just didn’t seem right.

He didn’t feel anything was amiss and guessed that Zhang Shuguang was probably chatting with that so-called “Vegetable Seed System.” He would never have imagined that Zhang Shuguang’s mind was currently filled with utter nonsense.

As Mang Jiu had said, the potato field wasn’t very large, but the yield was quite high, and the potatoes were growing quite large.

“It’s full,” Zhang Shuguang said, placing the large potatoes into his backpack. Looking at the now-packed backpack, he brushed the dirt off his hands. “Stop digging. Let’s leave some for them to keep growing.”

Mang Jiu nodded and placed the potato in his basket. “We’ll stay here a few more days. Once the rain stops, I’ll take you to find the Meimei Beast.” Zhang Shuguang blinked and asked him with a smile, “Find what kind of beast?”

“The Meimei Beast,” Mang Jiu repeated.

Zhang Shuguang giggled, sounding just like a little hen. So cute!

Mang Jiu was puzzled by his laughter and tilted his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Zhang Shuguang couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of him tilting his head. “Did you learn to tilt your head from the kids? You never used to do that before.”

Mang Jiu froze. “Did I tilt my head?”

“Hahahaha, Mang Jiu, you’re so cute!” Zhang Shuguang really couldn’t hold back any longer; he cupped Mang Jiu’s face in both hands and shook it gently. “The way you tilted your head just now looked exactly like Naidou begging me for meat.”

Mang Jiu chuckled softly, “I want some meat, too.”

“I’ll make it for you as soon as we get back—I’ll make it all for you!” Zhang Shuguang rubbed his face, then let go. “Come on, let’s go home.”

A light drizzle began to fall as the two made their way back. Zhang Shuguang raised his hand to shield Mang Jiu’s head, glanced at his own hand, then looked back at Mang Jiu’s head. He silently lowered his hand and wrapped his arms around Mang Jiu’s neck again.

Mang Jiu: “Hm?”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “I was being silly. I actually thought I could shield you from the rain with my hand.”

“No need. Just hold me tight, and I’ll run faster.” Mang Jiu said, then sped up. Zhang Shuguang wrapped his arms tightly around him and clamped his legs against him.

By the time they returned to the cave, the drizzle had turned into a steady, steady rain. Zhang Shuguang’s leather vest and leather shorts were completely soaked. He sneezed, and Xi Wen came over with a clean piece of short-haired fur to wrap him in, then pointed to the stone slab bed that served as an operating table, where steaming water was held in a stone bowl.

Zhang Shuguang thanked him, picked up the stone bowl, blew on it to cool it down, and then drank the water.

Xi Wen smiled and waved her hand, then turned to fetch the thick bamboo tube Zhang Shuguang had used to carry water and placed it on the stone slab. She raised her hand and began gesturing to him.

Zhang Shuguang was completely baffled by her gestures; his eyes were filled with confusion.

What does that mean?

Xi Jiu strolled over and explained to his sister: “Earlier, Ying Cao brought some dried grass to boil in water. She said everyone should drink some to sleep better.” He pointed at the thick bamboo tube. “Xiwen helped you pour it into this.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded, thanked her again, picked up the thick bamboo tube, and poured a bowl for Mang Jiu. “Here, drink it all.” Mang Jiu shot him a helpless look.

Zhang Shuguang gave a cold smile. “Don’t think I don’t know—you hate any liquid other than meat broth. You never drink water. Don’t you know that if you don’t drink water, you won’t grow tall?”

Under the watchful eyes of the others, Mang Jiu took the stone bowl, didn’t even blow on it, and tilted his head back to down it in one gulp. Zhang Shuguang was startled. “Isn’t that too hot?”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “Whatever meat you want, I’ll go catch it for you.”

“It’s raining—what are you going to catch? Are there any earthworms left?” Although Zhang Shuguang hadn’t seen any worms when he returned, he didn’t believe the man had burned them all without saving even a single one for him.

Mang Jiu nodded. “I saved two and a half. Do you want some worms?”

“Just to try the flavor. Aren’t you curious?” Zhang Shuguang looked at him with a smile. “If you don’t like it, never mind. We’ll roast a few potatoes to tide us over, and go out and catch some game once the rain stops.”

Mang Jiu didn’t mind not eating himself, but when he thought back to the grilled meat Zhang Shuguang hadn’t liked earlier—even though he disliked insects just as much—and saw how eager Zhang Shuguang was to try it, he relented. “If you want to eat, go ahead. It’s in the cave over there. Shall I bring it over?”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “I’ll go with you. Let’s build a fire and cook over there so we don’t disturb them while they rest.” After saying that, he turned to the others and said:

“Once I’m done, I’ll have them bring it over.”

Mang Jiu stood a step behind Zhang Shuguang, staring intently at them.

“No, no, we just ate our fill.” The group lying down waved their hands in unison, their movements remarkably synchronized.

“You’re full?” Zhang Shuguang looked at Mang Yue and Lang Qing in surprise and asked, “Did you eat all those bugs?”

“We did,” Mang Yue said, pointing to his ankle. There had been a wound there the size of a one-yuan coin, slightly inflamed and swollen. Zhang Shuguang remembered that he’d checked their wounds just before he and Mang Jiu had left; now the swelling had noticeably subsided. Could it be that this insect meat really had anti-inflammatory and tissue-regenerating properties?

Zhang Shuguang asked, “Uncle Mang Yue, do you feel anything else? Like nausea or the urge to vomit?” Mangyue shook his head with a smile, his expression gentle. “No, I feel fine.”

Zhang Shuguang rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then turned to ask the others, “Your wounds aren’t as red as they were before, are they?”

The others nodded. Xiong Hong pointed to his legs. “I ate quite a bit of that insect meat, and afterward, my legs started itching.” Zhang Shuguang went over to take a look. There were no signs of an allergic reaction, which suggested the itching was likely due to the wounds regenerating and healing.

“I was worried earlier that the insect meat might be poisonous and inedible, but it looks like it’s fine now.” Though he said this, he still glanced at Ying Wu, Lang Yi, and Lang Ming. Seeing that they showed no signs of discomfort either, he confirmed his assumption.

The earthworm meat wasn’t poisonous, and the meat from that multi-legged beast was likely the same. He nodded in satisfaction. “You should be fully recovered in a few more days. You should still limit your movement. If you’re really feeling cooped up, go to the cave entrance to get some fresh air.” He said this while looking directly at Xi Jiu.

Xi Jiu smiled sheepishly and nodded repeatedly. “I won’t go out.”

Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu went to the cave next door, where they found a stone hearth with a stone pot boiling water.

It went without saying that Mang Jiu had had them set it up. Zhang Shuguang suppressed a smile at the corner of his lips as he cheerfully circled the two half-body segments of earthworm left behind.

Even though they were only half-length, they were still quite large. Their thick, pink bodies wriggled on the ground; the two sections left behind were both tails, lacking those terrifying, gaping maws.

At the end of the earthworm’s tail was a hard, black object about the size of a watermelon. Zhang Shuguang poked it with a stick, and the worm’s body arched reflexively. Curious, he poked the soft body twice more and discovered that every time he prodded it, the black sphere would rise up.

“Did it have this before?” he asked, turning to look at Mang Jiu.

Mang Jiu shook his head. “No, it’s new. It’s also grown longer than before.”

“Is the tail turning into a head?” Zhang Shuguang muttered under his breath, but didn’t dwell on it. He pulled out his fishbone knife, held it over the insect, and made a few gestures, then looked up at Mang Jiu. “I’ve got an idea.”

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow.

The others staying in the cave were also staring at him. What was his idea?

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smile. “This earthworm’s meat is excellent for healing injuries. Since it’s grown longer, I can harvest meat from it without killing it—it’s an endless supply, don’t you think?”

The group froze, picturing the scene of a large chunk of flesh being sliced from their bodies every day, and shuddered violently. Mang Jiu looked completely unfazed, his tone tinged with indulgence. “You’re right. We can raise it and slice it off bit by bit.”

Zhang Shuguang pressed one hand down on the writhing insect while bringing the knife down with the other.

The moment the blade sank in, the insect’s body jerked violently upward. Zhang Shuguang hadn’t expected such a strong reaction; before he could steady his hand, the fishbone knife slashed diagonally across his skin.

Staring at the finger-length gash on the back of his left hand, from which blood was flowing, the corners of his mouth twitched several times violently.

“Be careful!” Mang Jiu was startled too, and reached out to take the fishbone knife.

Zhang Shuguang brushed the fresh blood trickling down the back of his hand and was speechless for a moment. “How was I supposed to know this thing would react so strongly? It’s fine—a little scratch like this will stop bleeding in a minute… Huh?” He looked at the wound, which hadn’t slowed down or even begun to heal; at that moment, blood was gushing out of it more and more.

“What’s going on?” He was dumbfounded.

It wasn’t just him; the others who had witnessed his prowess were equally dumbfounded. How could the Divine Son no longer heal his wounds!

Could it be… could it be that the Divine Son had used too much of his own flesh and blood to heal his people, draining his divine power completely?

“Ying Cao! Ying Cao, hurry up and bring that hemostatic medicine—the Divine Son is injured!” Someone shouted, and immediately, the crowd sprang into action as if a switch had been flipped, rushing out of the cave in a flurry.

Zhang Shuguang stared at the wound on the back of his hand and slowly raised one eyebrow. He looked up at Mang Jiu and said with a smile, “Tell me, what do you think is going on here?”