Mang Jiu stared coldly in the direction of the giant tree; apart from the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew, there was no other sound.

Zhang Shuguang and the others looked at him; no one doubted that he had heard correctly.

Mang Jiu patted Zhang Shuguang on the shoulder, signaling him to stay put.

He strode over, bent down, and picked up a red feather from among the fallen leaves at the base of the tree.

He examined the feather, then looked up and scanned the sky. Ying Liu, flying overhead, let out a chirp—clearly confirming that a bird had just flown away.

Mang Jiu walked back with the feather. Zhang Shuguang reached out curiously to take a look, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. “It’s the same color as our Little Tangdou—such a vivid red.”

“Mm, a red feather unique to the Phoenix Clan.” Mang Jiu tossed the feather onto the ground as he handed it back.

Zhang Shuguang paused for a moment, then bent down to pick it up. “Don’t throw it away—let’s keep it for now. What if we can find its owner?”

It was hidden away so they wouldn’t find it—it must have been in this forest all along. As for why the owner didn’t want them to find it?

Probably just shy.

Zhang Shuguang put the feather into his animal-skin pouch, then took out the fresh sweet potato leaves that A-Si had gone out of his way to pick that morning just before they left.

Seeing the sweet potato leaves, he couldn’t help but smile. He said to Mang Jiu, “It’s such a shame A-Si didn’t come. Do you think he’ll ever be able to control his transformation into beast form with ease?”

Just three days ago, Zhang Shuguang had been startled by A-Si, who kept turning into a green-haired turtle from time to time.

It was as if A-Si had some kind of strange condition—he’d be talking to Zhang Shuguang one moment, and the next, he’d suddenly turn into a green-haired turtle. Luckily, they’d been digging for bamboo shoots on the back mountain at the time; otherwise, Zhang Shuguang would have been crushed under his beast form.

Before he could even make a joke about how the animal-skin skirt had been stretched to shreds, A-Si had already transformed back into human form.

Just as he turned to pluck a couple of leaves to cover A-Si’s body, he turned back into his animal form.

So Zhang Shuguang just stood there, watching A-Si go back and forth—human to turtle, turtle to human, human to turtle… This cycle repeated itself about ten times before A-Si finally collapsed onto the ground, panting as if on the verge of death, unable to even move a finger.

Mang Jiu thought back to the day Zhang Shuguang had rushed back to the tribe in a panic and called him to the bamboo grove, and he chuckled softly. “He’ll get used to it in a little while.”

For some reason, Zhang Shuguang thought of the idiom “practice makes perfect.”

He pressed his hand to his forehead and chuckled, “He was all talk about wanting to go out and see the world—these days, he’d be lucky just to figure himself out.”

Mang Jiu hummed in agreement, raising a hand to gently brush against his forehead. “No need to prepare food for the beastmen—just eat what you’re having.”

“Worried I’ll get tired?” Zhang Shuguang gave him a mischievous glance. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you guys get to try some, no matter what.”

Mang Jiu nodded with a smile. “Alright.”

Ying Wu soon returned with a fawn, smaller than the ones they’d brought back before.

Zhang Shuguang reached out to stroke the deer, which was covered in white spots, and said, “A sika deer—it’s small.” Though he called it small, that was only relative to the large beasts in this area; based on his memory of sika deer, this one should have been an adult, not a fawn.

“Let’s gut it,” Zhang Shuguang said as he stood up and took a step back. “Give me the four legs; roast the rest right over the fire.”

Mang Jiu nodded and began skinning and deboning it with his bare hands.

Zhang Shuguang winced at the sight of his wild movements and simply turned away to spare himself the sight.

He walked over to the blazing fire and saw Li and Yun setting up a cooking platform. He nodded: “You two really get things done.”

“You’ll cook later; we’ll help you get everything else ready.” Yun looked up at him and smiled. “We can’t let you do it all by yourself.”

Fang and Jiao sat nearby sorting through sweet potato leaves—though there wasn’t much to sort, really; freshly picked, they had at most one or two wormholes.

Guo, the youngest at just sixteen, and another male beastman named Lin were squatting nearby, washing dried bamboo shoots. Hearing Yun’s words, they chimed in, “Right, we’re all really looking forward to eating the meal you’ll cook.”

“I’m so jealous of Li,” Guo said as she carefully rinsed the sand off the dried bamboo shoots, her cheeks still carrying a bit of that chubby baby fat. “He always tells us what delicious things Shuguang has made to make us drool.”

Li chuckled softly from the side, “But I wasn’t lying to you guys.”

Zhang Shuguang smiled too. He found the leather bag where he kept various dried goods and took out quite a few dried shrimp and dried squid.

He stuffed a few into Mang Jiu’s hands for a snack and put the rest directly into a clay pot to soak.

“In a bit, I’ll chop up the dried bamboo shoots and add them to the pot, then simmer it into a soup.”

Lin nodded and asked, “Do we need to add any other ingredients?”

“Right. Dried shrimp and squid are both seafood—they’re naturally salty. Plus, if you add too many other ingredients to seafood, the flavor gets a bit muddled, and the soup won’t taste right.” Zhang Shuguang placed the pot on the small stove they’d set up. “Once you add the dried bamboo shoots, let it boil on high heat for a while, then switch to low heat to simmer.”

He pointed at Guo. “You’re in charge of keeping an eye on the fire.”

Guo nodded vigorously. “I’ll definitely keep an eye on it!”

Zhang Shuguang then turned to Li and Yun: “Set up two more small stoves over there. I’ll start stewing the meat in a bit. Did either of you bring any potatoes? I didn’t.”

Before Li could speak, Jiao said, “I brought some. I’ll go get them—how many do you need?”

“How many did you bring?” Zhang Shuguang was taken aback by her question.

Jiao chuckled. “I was worried there wouldn’t be any here, so I brought a few extra—two animal-skin bags.”

On this trip, they’d been using animal-skin bags for almost everything—mainly because they were afraid things would spill out of their back baskets. The back baskets were stacked together to serve as trade goods; after all, they could make do with whatever was available locally. If there was bamboo, they’d weave bamboo baskets; if there was no bamboo, they’d weave rattan baskets; and even if there were no vines, they could weave small baskets from long grass—all techniques Shuguang had taught them.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled, thought for a moment, and said, “For the stewed potatoes and venison, use six potatoes. For the shredded potatoes with Sichuan peppercorns, use four. And if you want roasted potatoes, just toss a few into the fire.”

Jiao nodded. “I’ll go get them!”

Fang brought over the sweet potato leaves and asked, “Can we just stir-fry these as is?”

“Do you like plain stir-fried sweet potato leaves?”

Fang said with a smile, “I like sweet potato leaves stir-fried with garlic.”

Zhang Shuguang and Li shook their heads in unison, “No, you can’t stir-fry them with garlic.”

The others, unaware of the situation, were taken aback. “Why not?”

“We didn’t bring any garlic,” Li said with a stern expression.

Zhang Shuguang almost burst out laughing. Look at that—as soon as he found a partner, he was already protecting him.

“I brought some!” Fang turned to go get the garlic, but Li grabbed her arm.

He glared at Fang fiercely: “No garlic!”

“Why not? Don’t you eat it too?” Fang was in a bit of pain from his grip and glared at him angrily: “Let go of me!”

Zhang Shuguang saw that things were about to escalate into a fight, so he quickly blurted out a made-up excuse: “Garlic has too strong a smell. If wild beasts come by, their scent will be masked, and if the beastmen can’t detect us, we’ll be in danger.”

Fang looked at him doubtfully. “Is that right?”

Zhang Shuguang looked completely serious and earnest. “Of course. Once we get there and make sure it’s safe, you can have either stir-fried garlic or roasted garlic—whichever you prefer.”

Fang rubbed her wrists, which had turned completely red, and said, “Oh, okay.”

Zhang Shuguang gave Li a light tap on the shoulder. “Apologize to Fang.”

Li hung his head and whispered, “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Fang waved her hand. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just give me a couple extra pieces of meat later.”

Li nodded, then turned to look at Zhang Shuguang with a pout.

Zhang Shuguang smiled at him and whispered, “Are you worried Second Brother will lose face in front of them?”

Li gave a soft “Mm-hmm.”

“You’re so thoughtful.” Zhang Shuguang pointed to the stones on the ground. “Go on, build the stove. Don’t worry—I definitely won’t use any garlic.”

Li’s mood brightened again, and he happily continued building the cooking fire.

Over at Mang Jiu’s side, the meat had already been divided up, and as Zhang Shuguang had requested, the remaining deer breast and belly had been strung on thick tree branches. “Shuguang, Mang Er and the others are back. I’ll take them hunting.”

Zhang Shuguang replied, “Be careful. Go early and come back early.”

He pointed to the roasting rack and said to Lin, “You’re in charge of turning that log so the meat roasts evenly over the fire.”

Lin slapped his chest. “I’ve got this—we roasted meat like this that time, too.”

Zhang Shuguang took out the seasonings he’d brought and pounded them into a thick bamboo tube, then added some hot water to let them steep. Using a brush made of prickly grass, he poked the meat repeatedly, creating a dense network of tiny holes. “Lin, once the meat changes color, brush it with this marinade.” He handed the thick bamboo tube over.

Lin accepted it with both hands, looking very earnest.

“Alright, Jiao, peel the potatoes; Fang, you’re in charge of washing them; Li, help me cut the potatoes later; and Yun, keep an eye on the fires in these stoves. If we run out of firewood, go gather some more.”

Zhang Shuguang washed his hands thoroughly and began preparing lunch and dinner.

He trimmed all the meat off the legs, then set aside a small piece to slice into strips for stir-frying with the shredded potatoes later.

He then cut the remaining meat into small chunks, blanched them, and stir-fried them directly in a pot made of scale-plated metal. He added cinnamon bark, a bundle of lemongrass, and Sichuan peppercorns. After stir-frying for a while, he poured the mixture into a pottery pot filled with boiling water. “Let it simmer for a bit, then add salt, and finally add the potato chunks.”

Li: “I’ll keep an eye on this.”

Zhang Shuguang washed the pan and continued stir-frying. The shredded potatoes and venison were cooked quickly, so Fang brought out a plate to serve them.

“You can add the potato chunks now. Simmer the meat over high heat, and keep an eye on it so the broth doesn’t dry out.”

He quickly stir-fried the sweet potato leaves, tossed in two Sichuan peppercorns for flavor, and sprinkled some salt just before removing them from the heat.

With both dishes served on plates, Fang and Jiao each took one and looked expectantly at Zhang Shuguang.

Zhang Shuguang pointed to the floor. “Just put them on the floor.”

“No way!” they said, their expressions serious. “We must have a table to eat at!”

Zhang Shuguang twitched the corner of his mouth. Ever since the setup outside their cave had been shown to others, the tribe had essentially stopped eating by squatting directly on the ground and gnawing on meat—and they’d also stopped eating with their bare hands.

“Shuguang,” Mang Er walked over holding a wooden plank—no one knew when he’d managed to get it; Zhang Shuguang had been too busy cooking to notice, but he’d already cobbled together a table—“Set it on the stove.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Alright.”

Sure enough, the seafood and dried bamboo shoot soup he’d been watching was ready. Zhang Shuguang had Mang Er place the wooden plank across the two stoves, then set the plates and pottery pot directly on top of it.

“Is the meat ready yet?” Li stared at the steaming pot, sniffing deeply. “It smells so good.”

Zhang Shuguang poked a piece of meat with his chopsticks and nodded. “It’s ready. Bring it over—and bring that earthenware pot too. Put the leftover leg bones in there to make broth.”

The grilled meat on the other side was ready too. Lin brushed on the final coat of sauce. Zhang Shuguang sliced off a piece with a fish bone knife, blew on it to cool it, and, seeing Guo watching him longingly from the side, simply fed it to him. “How’s that?”

“Delicious.”

“Is it cooked through?”

Guo nodded vigorously.

Zhang Shuguang clapped his hands. “Kids, let’s eat!”

Holding their little bowls and clutching their chopsticks, the group began to eat as soon as they heard him speak.

The meal left their mouths greasy; the beastmen ate most of the roasted venison, while the sub-beastmen preferred the venison chunks stewed until tender.

Once Zhang Shuguang had eaten his fill, he began to feel drowsy. Seeing that they were about to wash the pots and bowls and put them away, he waved his hand to stop them. “Don’t put them away yet—we’ll need them again tonight.”

“Aren’t we leaving?”

“Yeah, we’ll rest here tonight and set out first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll head straight to the Lion-Tiger Tribe then.” As long as the beastmen replenished their strength and got a good night’s sleep, running all day tomorrow shouldn’t be a problem—provided that Mang Jiu didn’t run so fast that they had to chase after him for dear life.

For dinner that night, they ate the fish Mang Jiu had brought back. When asked, he said he’d caught it by the river. Zhang Shuguang thought back to that swift-flowing river and grinned. “You didn’t actually go into the water, did you?”

“Well, how else would I catch fish?” Mang Jiu pointed in a certain direction. “There’s a patch of ground vines over there. Want some?”

“Yes!” Zhang Shuguang’s eyes lit up.

He’d been worrying about how he’d sleep that night. Although they could lay animal hides on the ground to make do for the night, the ground would be damp, and it would inevitably be uncomfortable.

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow. “Together?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” Zhang Shuguang ran over, took down a backpack, slung it on his back, and spread his arms wide toward him. “Pick me up.”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “Let’s go in beast form.”

Zhang Shuguang froze for a moment. “That far?”

“It’s manageable.” Mang Jiu took his hand and led him a little further away, chatting casually, “Why didn’t you go around looking for food this time like you used to?”

Zhang Shuguang sighed. “I think Xiao Cai’s settings were altered during this upgrade—its food-finding navigation isn’t working anymore.”

He’d actually noticed this while filling in for the main system, but it wasn’t a big deal to him. With the navigation, he’d be ordered to run back and forth; without it, he’d just wander wherever he pleased—as long as he didn’t starve, that was fine.

After briefly explaining the situation to Mang Jiu, he smiled. “Once we get to the gathering, let’s see what kinds of fruits and vegetables people from other tribes are eating. Then we’ll ask if they have any seeds. If they do, we’ll trade for some; if not, you can just hang out with me while I wander around the area and look for some myself.”

Mang Jiu nodded slightly. “Let’s go.” He pulled off his animal-skin skirt and handed it to Zhang Shuguang, then shifted into his beast form.

Zhang Shuguang placed the leather skirt in his back basket. As he gazed at the scales shimmering with a faint, dark purple-black luster in the silvery-gray moonlight, his eyes filled with deep fascination. He reached out and gently rested his hand upon them; the body beneath his palm rose and fell slightly with each breath, its temperature cool to the touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Just like in my dream.”

Mang Jiu turned his head. “What dream?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head slightly. “I just feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.” He ran his fingers lightly over the scales; they didn’t feel as smooth as they looked, but rather slightly rough.

He clicked his tongue. “Never mind. My memory’s like a jigsaw puzzle anyway—who knows when a useful piece might pop up?”

Mang Jiu exhaled and wrapped his tail around Zhang Shuguang, lifting him up to rest on his head.

Zhang Shuguang sat cross-legged, propping his chin on his arms, and chuckled, “I’ve realized this is the spot—it’s truly flat and offers a wide view.”

“I’ll sit here from now on.” Mang Jiu began to glide slowly; Zhang Shuguang patted the spot on his forehead. “You can go a little faster.”

Mang Jiu didn’t say a word, but his speed picked up considerably.

Zhang Shuguang sneezed as the evening breeze blew in his face, then pulled the animal-skin bag out of his backpack.

He slipped the leather pouch on, wiggling it into place, and remarked, “This thing really keeps you warm.”

He shifted and shifted until he found a comfortable position that didn’t feel too cramped. Silently calculating Mang Jiu’s speed in his head, he grinned and said, “Mang Jiu, your S-curve was about 150 meters long, and you took the turn and shot forward in just two seconds.”

Mang Jiu gave a noncommittal “Hmm” and kept swimming at that pace. He knew that if he went any faster, Zhang Shuguang would start howling—and then he certainly wouldn’t be in the mood to analyze speeds with him.

“Don’t you ever wonder about your own species?”

“You do.”

Zhang Shuguang cupped his face and giggled like a crowing rooster. “You’re right—just thinking about it is enough.”

He yawned and tilted his head back to look at the stars in the sky. Before he could even begin to feel anything, Mang Jiu stopped.

“Are we there?”

Mang Jiu gave another “Mm-hmm.” He slowly tilted his head back, and Zhang Shuguang slid right down his broad back in a whoosh.

Zhang Shuguang screamed “Aaaah!” in fright—he was still wearing that animal-skin sack!!!

So scary!

So thrilling!

So much fun!

He hopped around inside the animal-skin sack. “So much fun! So thrilling! Mang Jiu, put me back up there—I want to slide down again!”

Mang Jiu was more than happy to oblige—not just once, but he’d gladly let him slide all night long.

They came up with all sorts of ways to play on the giant snake slide.

All he had to do was sit in the animal-skin pouch, and Mang Jiu would naturally adjust his body’s height to change the slide’s shape, gently shifting his body to help him keep his balance and satisfy his craving for thrills.

“Mang Jiu, you’re really the best! I love you so much!”

Once Zhang Shuguang regained his footing, he lunged forward to hug Mang Jiu’s massive snake head and planted two smacking kisses on it.

Mang Jiu’s vertical pupils contracted slightly as he shifted back into human form, wrapped his arms around Zhang Shuguang, and kissed him.

Lately, their kisses had been so intense they could hardly tear themselves apart. Zhang Shuguang was still wearing the animal-skin bag, and the heat had brought a sheen of sweat to his forehead.

Hmm, it must be from the heat, not from arousal.

“I want to…”

Zhang Shuguang suddenly pushed him away. “Did you just speak?”

Mang Jiu lowered his eyes and glanced at Zhang Shuguang’s chest.

Zhang Shuguang understood, but this “I want”—who exactly wanted it? Or did both of them want it?

What exactly?

He didn’t dare to think any further.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, then raised his hand to fan his face repeatedly.

“Where’s the ground vine? Where is it?”

He muttered to himself as he looked around, then spotted a small patch of ground vine not far away.

Mang Jiu glanced at his red ears, looked away, and walked over. “How much do you need?”

Zhang Shuguang followed him and said, “Let’s pull it all back. It’s just a nuisance left here. With so many of us, we can finish braiding it quickly if we all work together.”

Mang Jiu nodded. “Wait here. I’ll go get it.”

Zhang Shuguang watched him with a smile. “I won’t wander off. Go ahead and get them.”

He watched as Mang Jiu began coiling a thick vine—a technique he’d learned from Zhang Shuguang himself. Since the vines were so supple, coiling them into large bundles was no problem at all.

After working for a while, he had seven large bundles.

Mang Jiu connected the vine bundles together, then took on a serpentine form, raising its head with its large head resting against the ring of connected bundles.

Zhang Shuguang watched him work, unable to get a word in edgewise, until the vine bundle atop his head lifted its neck slightly.

In that instant, he nearly fell to his knees, laughing so hard he thought he’d die.

His roaring laughter echoed far and wide, while Mang Jiu looked on helplessly as Zhang Shuguang, clutching a backpack and bent over double, laughed so hard he couldn’t even keep his eyes open.

“My phone, my phone!” he shouted, his voice trembling with laughter.

The phone appeared in his hand. Zhang Shuguang took a deep breath to steady his ragged breathing from the fit of laughter, then, with trembling hands, opened the camera app and snapped a photo of Mang Jiu.

Click. A flash of white light.

It was only a split-second exposure, but Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened.

The radiant, joyful smile that had just been on his face froze, and his eyes slowly widened in shock.

It was a comical yet eerie expression, and Zhang Shuguang didn’t snap out of it until his phone fell to the ground.

He quickly picked up the phone, frantically unlocked it, and scrolled through the photo album, only to find that nothing had been captured.

Furrowing his brow, he turned on the phone’s flashlight and shone it on Mang Jiu—nothing out of the ordinary. He then switched to the camera, flashing the flash repeatedly as he snapped photo after photo of Mang Jiu, but still nothing was amiss.

Refusing to believe it, he kept fiddling with it for quite a while.

“Master, you’ve wasted 20% of your battery,” Xiao Cai reminded him.

Zhang Shuguang gritted his teeth and, under Mang Jiu’s puzzled gaze, asked, “What did you feel just now?”

Mang Jiu shook his head. “It was a flash.”

“Never mind, maybe I saw it wrong.” He put his phone away, trying to recall what he’d glimpsed in that split second.

Did he really see it wrong?

But…

He shook his head and beckoned to Mang Jiu. “Wait a sec. I think I saw some vegetables over there just now—right by your tail.”

Mang Jiu shifted his body to make way for him.

Zhang Shuguang walked over, turned to look at its increasingly imposing and massive form, then lowered his head to think for a moment before turning back to look again.

He couldn’t make head or tail of it.

He walked to the tip of Mang Jiu’s tail and searched the ground for the two clumps of tall grass he’d just spotted.

Zhang Shuguang plucked a small piece of leaf and sniffed it, his eyes following the columnar stem downward. “Lettuce.”

He held the leaf to his nose and took a whiff; it had a slightly bitter scent, yet it carried a rich, grassy aroma.

“Mang Jiu, there’s lettuce here!” He held the lettuce in both hands and shook it back and forth, but unfortunately, the root was too sturdy; after shaking it for a long time, he still couldn’t snap it off.

He huffed in frustration and kicked out with his foot.

Snap.

Zhang Shuguang let out another smug snort as he bent down to pick up the thick lettuce stalk.

“A big one like this must weigh at least ten jin!”

“Let me help you.” Mang Jiu set down the vine ball ring on his head, shifted back into human form, and walked over.

Zhang Shuguang glanced down at him, cleared his throat, and quickly looked away. After a moment, he couldn’t resist and stole another glance.

Mang Jiu turned to look at him. Seeing him biting his lip, he recalled how Zhang Shuguang usually reacted when he wasn’t wearing his leather skirt, so he quickly reached out, grabbed the skirt, and put it on.

Zhang Shuguang silently relaxed the corners of his mouth and pointed to the ground. “There should be more over there. It’s too dark; I can’t see clearly.”

He’d thought about pulling out his phone to shine a light, but remembering how much battery it would drain, he shook his head and decided against it—he had Mang Jiu, after all.

Mang Jiu swept his gaze across the area, like a scanner, and pinpointed the exact location of the remaining celery stalks.

“The one over there has seeds.”

“Hurry, hurry, hurry! Let’s take them all back. Keep the seeds to plant later—these slices, once dried, have a crunchy texture when you eat them.” Zhang Shuguang walked forward excitedly, only to miss a step and lurch forward.

Mang Jiu had already walked ahead, about two meters away from him. As Zhang Shuguang let out a startled “Ah!”, Mang Jiu spun around and lunged forward to catch him, completing the entire sequence of movements in the blink of an eye.

Zhang Shuguang was panicking. It wasn’t actually that high, but he was still so frightened that he closed his eyes tightly, his heart pounding wildly, and his body trembling uncontrollably.

The sensation of weightlessness made him dizzy.

“Dad, I want to eat fruit!”

“Daddy, I want to eat fruit!”

“Daddy, I want something sweet!”

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy…”

The chubby little boy had grown a bit taller, but he still clung to his father’s leg like a little accessory. As he wrapped his arms around his father’s leg and tilted his face up, begging for a treat, he flashed a sweet, sugary smile, his single dimple standing out clearly.

Every time, the man would affectionately pinch his chubby cheeks, stuffing all sorts of delicious fruits and flower buds into his mouth, watching him eat with a look of pure contentment.

“My baby, you must grow up safe and sound.”

“Dad?”

Zhang Shuguang saw that the man was still facing away from him, so he still couldn’t see his face, but the tone of his voice was inexplicably heart-wrenching.

“May my baby remain innocent and carefree.”

The man added.

“May my baby grow up slowly and happily.”

Zhang Shuguang watched as the chubby child’s innocent, sweet smile turned to surprise—and even a hint of fear.

He slowly furrowed his brow.

“My baby, you must grow up!”

“Shuguang!”

Mang Jiu’s voice snapped him back to reality; when he opened his eyes, he saw the man’s anxious face.

“Did I… pass out again?”

Mang Jiu gave a tight-lipped “Mm-hmm” and raised a hand to feel his forehead, detecting no change in temperature.

“Did you see it again?”

“Yeah.” Zhang Shuguang sat up straight, raised his hand, and rubbed and pressed hard against his chest. “I feel like I’m choking.”

Mang Jiu reached out to help him rub his chest. “Sit there and don’t move around.”

“I’m fine. Pull up all the lettuce—leaves and all. It’s all edible.” Zhang Shuguang glanced at the spot where he’d just fallen, still shaken. “I might really have some aftereffects—PTSD?”

“What?”

“PTSD.”

“?”

Zhang Shuguang was just messing around and smiled, waving his hand to signal him to ignore him.

“Hurry up. I’ll untie a rattan ball to tie them all together.” He stood up and walked over to the seven-ring set.

The two worked together and quickly picked all the lettuce and tied it together.

Seeing Mang Jiu slithering along with the ball hoop for the second time, Zhang Shuguang still couldn’t help but burst out laughing and crouch down again.

Mang Jiu exhaled through his nostrils with a heavy sigh, coiled his tail around the rest of the produce and placed it on his head, then swam back.

“I just saw the chubby little boy,” Zhang Shuguang said as he wrapped himself in the animal-skin sack, his words carried by the night breeze. “I saw his father. His father said he hoped the boy would grow up safely, happily, and innocently, taking his time. Mang Jiu, did you notice what was off about that?”

“Hmm,” Mang Jiu replied, “‘Grow up safely and slowly’?”

“No, they were said separately: ‘May my baby grow up safely,’ and ‘May my baby grow up slowly.’ Zhang Shuguang licked his lips and gently exhaled the stale air from his chest. “Right before you woke me up, he also said, ‘My baby, you must grow up!’”

Zhang Shuguang shifted his feet. “You know, I just feel like the tone was off.” He sighed. “There are too many secrets—they keep creeping into my head even when I try not to think about them.”

Mang Jiu: “Didn’t you say, ‘Let nature take its course’? That’s what you said, right?”

“Right,” Zhang Shuguang murmured, watching a shooting star streak across the sky. “Let nature take its course.”

The two hadn’t actually been gone for very long. The giant beasts had formed a circle, enclosing all the goods and the sub-beastmen they’d brought with them, and had stoked the bonfire with more branches and wood to make it burn even brighter.

As they neared their destination, Mang Jiu shifted back into human form, pulling Zhang Shuguang with one hand while cradling the rattan ball hoop and a bundle of over a dozen large leeks with the other.

Ying Wu, who had flown down from the sky, stumbled slightly. He looked at Mang Jiu, then at the rattan ring in his hand. “You…”

Mang Jiu turned to face him.

Ying Wu held out his hand. “Give me that. I’ll carry it.”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. Clearly, Ying Wu, who had been patrolling the skies moments earlier, had seen Mang Jiu with the rattan ball ring perched on his head.

Mang Jiu didn’t even mention the rattan ball ring—he tossed everything in his hands, except for Zhang Shuguang, right at him.

Ying Wu was nearly knocked over and coughed hoarsely.

“Li! Come help!” Zhang Shuguang shouted.

But it was the other five who came running—Li was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” Zhang Shuguang glanced at the clouds in confusion.

Then, to his surprise, he noticed that all five of them looked a bit uneasy.

Zhang Shuguang narrowed his eyes slightly. Thinking back to how Li had looked earlier, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he asked, “Where’s Brother Mang Er?”

The five of them: “……”

Zhang Shuguang snorted. “Did those two go off to the grove?”

The five: “Yes.”

Zhang Shuguang put his hands on his hips. “Are you serious? It’s barely even dark yet!”

Yun chimed in, “Yeah, they’re all over each other.”

Lin nodded: “Right, I heard them!”

Jiao and Fang were girls, after all. Although they often heard such sounds in the tribe, they’d never actually witnessed anything like this out in the open. Plus, the way those sounds were coming from over there—it really set their imaginations running wild.

The two of them nodded, their faces flushed. Just looking at their conflicted and bashful expressions, it was clear the action over there was intense.

Guo, despite his young age, knew quite a bit and added, “When I was coming over just now, I saw Mang Er wrap Li up completely—really tightly.”

Zhang Shuguang’s imagination was running wild with increasingly lewd images. He raised his hand and slapped Mang Jiu, who was standing next to him, right on the arm with a sharp “smack.” “Go stop them!”

Mang Jiu looked at him, clearly flustered, and honestly didn’t understand why he was so upset.

“They’re mating—don’t worry about it.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Zhang Shuguang glared.

“They’re not here—you can’t see them.” Mang Jiu put his arm around Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder and led him back. “Go make that hammock you were talking about. Teach them how to use it. It’s getting dark—we need to get some rest early.”

Zhang Shuguang was taken aback by his calm demeanor.

He found himself wondering if he was overreacting.

It’s just sleeping under the open sky—a newlywed couple sneaking off into a little grove.

What’s there to get so worked up about?

Why are you so embarrassed?

What are you imagining?

Is that even the kind of scene you’d imagine?

Haven’t you had enough of this lovey-dovey stuff yet?

Haven’t you had enough of that!

After Zhang Shuguang had scorned himself, he became completely composed.

Right, Mang Jiu should be like this—being surprised by the unfamiliar just doesn’t fit his current status!

He is, after all, the Divine Son!

How could the Son of the Gods possibly hold others back from making babies!

“Take that vine ball apart, then start tying them in pairs to weave a net. Hang it from a tree and line it with animal hides—it’ll work as a place to sleep.” Zhang Shuguang pointed to the vine ball on the ground and motioned for them to get to work.

The group, who had initially wondered if these items were meant for bartering at the gathering, were startled for a moment but quickly became enthusiastic.

Everything Shuguang taught them to make was always incredibly useful and worked exceptionally well.

The beastmen also took an interest and began transforming into human form to lend a hand.

Though they said they were helping, once the first finished product was ready, they took turns lying down on it, and as soon as they got up, they started clamoring.

“I want one too!”

“I want one too!”

“I want one too!”

“I want one! I want one! I want one—we all want one!” Zhang Shuguang felt like a kindergarten teacher on a field trip whose candy had been spotted by the kids, who then swarmed around him.

“Since you all know how to make them anyway, just make your own. One for each of you—you can all sleep hanging from the trees.”

Mang Jiu wove a large one for the two of them to sleep in together.

With everyone working together, they moved quickly, crafting one vine hammock after another and securing them to the trees.

Up and down they went, until more than a dozen vine hammocks were securely suspended among the trees—a spectacular sight.

“What’s this?” Li, his face flushed and eyes glistening, climbed down from Mang Er’s back. Seeing them all lying in the vine hammocks, he exclaimed in surprise, “This is so fun! I want one too!” He tugged on Mang Er’s arm, shaking it back and forth.

Zhang Shuguang lay in his hammock, peering at him through the gaps in the weave. “Are you two done yet?”

Li tilted his face up and smiled at him. “Shuguang, hurry up and teach me how to do it!”

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips, reached his hand through the gap, and pointed to a large hammock across from them. “That hammock was woven for you two—no need to thank me.” He wore a slightly haughty yet playful expression.

Li grinned widely with delight. “Thanks, thanks! You’re the best.” With that, he grabbed Mang Er by the hand and turned to leave—he was going to sleep in that hammock!

Zhang Shuguang quickly called out, “You have to lie still in that one—no vigorous movement! You’ll fall out!”

As soon as he said that, Li stopped in his tracks, and the group, who had been chatting just moments before, fell silent instantly.

Zhang Shuguang buried his face in his arms, his head spinning.

Why did he have to blurt that out!

So embarrassing!

If only time could turn back!

Just three seconds!

I’d strangle that impulsive version of myself!

Yaaaaa!

So embarrassing!

Mang Jiu chuckled softly, reached up to ruffle the back of his head, then waved his hand.

The next moment, everyone resumed their conversation, though their voices were much quieter.

Zhang Shuguang whimpered softly—he was too embarrassed to show his face!

Why was he the one feeling so embarrassed when he clearly wasn’t the one who’d just done something naughty? He’d meant well, but here he was, blushing like crazy!

Mang Jiu turned sideways and pulled him into his arms, turning his face toward himself. “Have you been thinking about Li having sex with Mang Er these past few days…” He didn’t get to finish the sentence; Zhang Shuguang quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

In the moonlight, Zhang Shuguang’s eyes glistened with moisture, his cheeks flushed pink, and his body radiated a faint warmth.

Mang Jiu’s vertical pupils contracted, and his body reacted instinctively.

He lifted his leg to trap the other man between his thighs, pulled his hand down, and pressed his lips against his.

Zhang Shuguang let out a soft, embarrassed and indignant whimper.

I—I—I’ve made a fool of myself!

I just told Li that we can’t do any strenuous exercise!

I should’ve added that we couldn’t even kiss!

At this height, it’s way too intense!

Mang Jiu bit his lip and snorted with a chuckle.

Zhang Shuguang：“……”

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no—why did this have to happen!

“Don’t…”

“No way!”

“Let go!”

Zhang Shuguang struggled, but the next moment, his body went rigid.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

Mang Jiu: “…Shuguang?”

Well, that’s just how it goes—life is full of surprises.