Zhang Shuguang began to doubt himself.

He’d always assumed that the spot he’d been feeling was a tumor that might have grown on some part of Mang Jiu—though, of course, that was really just his own guess.

Mainly because what Hu Fei had just said was a bit scary—talk of death, ruptured lumps, and the like.

He had jumped to the conclusion that Mang Jiu was sick—since he seemed listless, wasn’t speaking, and kept sliding around with his eyes closed—so this behavior must surely be due to physical discomfort.

So what happened?

He didn’t know if it was due to physical discomfort, but he did know that he’d touched it twice, and both times, Mang Jiu opened his eyes.

“I-I-I—I didn’t mean to! Really, I just… I thought you had something growing on you—no, not something—I mean, I thought you were sick. When I touched it, I thought it was a lump, like a tumor. But since it was soft, I just assumed it was!” He paused, his face flushing bright red. With his eyes closed and his head tilted back, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “I’m sorry!”

He was frantic, babbling incoherently, not even knowing what he was saying himself.

Mang Jiu’s vertical pupils were filled with gentleness and understanding. He lowered his head, and his forked tongue flicked out, gently brushing against the boy’s cheek.

“I know. Don’t worry. Calm down.” The giant snake’s mouth moved slightly, revealing the tips of its fangs.

Zhang Shuguang felt like his head was about to explode. He sniffed, covered his face with his hands, then quickly pulled them away when he realized he’d touched it.

“I—I’ll go cook!” He turned and ran off.

Mang Jiu turned his serpentine head toward Hu Fei, flicked out his tongue, and asked, “Chieftain of the Golden Tiger Clan?”

Hu Fei looked up at him and nodded slightly. “I am Hu Fei.”

Mang Jiu gave a soft “hm,” then relaxed his body and lay back down. Closing his eyes, he said lazily, “Shuguang wants you to lead the Golden Tiger Clan to migrate to our tribe.”

Hu Fei paused for a moment, then asked uncertainly, “Does Shuguang want us to go to the Cliffside Tribe?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mang Jiu lifted his eyelids to glance at her. “Go back and think it over. We’ll be staying here for ten days.”

Hu Fei nodded once and replied earnestly, “I will.”

Mang Jiu paid her no further attention and continued gliding in circles.

Zhang Shuguang ran all the way over to Li, threw himself at him, and wrapped his arms around him, burying his head in the other’s shoulder. In a muffled voice, he asked, “Did… did you see it?”

Li stumbled as he lunged at him, then was taken aback by the question.

“What did I see? Are we having braised meat, grilled meat, or stir-fried meat for dinner?”

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips, straightened up, and snapped, “All you ever think about is food!”

“…Weren’t you the one who said we should invite the Black Bear Clan over for dinner? How did that turn into ‘all I care about is food’?” Li looked over at Mang Er, who was talking to Hu Gui, with a look of grievance. Mang Er caught his gaze, walked over, and patted Zhang Shuguang on the back of the head. “What’s up?”

There was no way Zhang Shuguang was going to tell them he’d ambushed Mang Jiu twice—how embarrassing!

He felt like digging a hole to bury himself in right then and there—and never coming out again!

But while he thought that, he tried his best to psych himself up.

So what if he touched it—no, wait, felt it through the skin—so what if he disturbed Mang Jiu’s rest!

So what if he almost found out what shape that thing was?

He’s not afraid!

He’s been thrust against before—what’s there to be afraid of!

Even though he’d fainted from being thrust against last time, he’d never admit it!

Zhang Shuguang crouched down, buried his face in his arms, and shut himself off from the world.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling sick?” Li looked at him with concern and reached out to touch his neck—it was burning hot.

“Why is his temperature so high!” he exclaimed in surprise.

Mang Er frowned, reached out to check his temperature, then glanced at one of Zhang Shuguang’s red ears that was peeking out. After a moment’s thought, he turned to ask Hu Fei, “Chief Hu Fei, what happened just now when you two were over there?”

Hu Fei let out an “Ah” and replied cooperatively, “We were talking about evolution, then the conversation turned to changing appearances. We mentioned the lump that had grown on his body, and he said Mang Jiu had a lump too, so he reached out to feel it.” She tilted her head. “And then Mang Jiu woke up?”

Zhang Shuguang let out a howl. “Stop it! Nothing happened!”

Mang Er looked down at him, furrowing his brow as he asked, “Mang Jiu has a lump on his body? Where?”

Before Zhang Shuguang could answer, Hu Fei chimed in, “It must be on his stomach. I saw that the scales there were white.”

Zhang Shuguang staggered and nearly lost his balance, nearly plopping down on the ground.

Mang Er froze for a moment. Then, as if a thought struck him, the corner of his mouth twitched as he looked at the steam rising from Zhang Shuguang’s head and asked, “You felt a lump? Where did that lump come from?”

“I felt it! I felt a lump before, and then I felt it again—it’s that very lump!” Zhang Shuguang stuck out his neck to look at him, then, as if deflated, buried his face again and muttered, “Well, I don’t know then. That’s not a lump!”

Mang Er was at a loss for words. “What did Mang Jiu say?”

“Go ask him yourself!” Zhang Shuguang didn’t want to stay another second; he got up and ran off again.

“Don’t run too far! We’re about to eat!”

“Where am I supposed to run to?” Zhang Shuguang bellowed back.

Everyone watched as Zhang Shuguang dashed off like a whirlwind to the pile of broken wood and twigs, where he found a corner to sit down.

He grabbed a twig at random and poked at the grass on the ground. “I didn’t even know what that was! I was just worried, that’s all!”

Mang Jiu’s massive snake head turned toward him, and its forked tongue darted out to brush against his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How could I not care?” Zhang Shuguang glared at him, then realized it wasn’t right to glare—after all, Mang Jiu wasn’t to blame for any of this. Lowering his eyes, he asked, “Just now… how did you feel?”

“It felt pretty good.” Mang Jiu looked at him and asked, “Were you scared?”

“I wasn’t scared—I was embarrassed,” Zhang Shuguang exhaled, pouting as he said, “I really thought you were sick.”

Mang Jiu gently brushed his hand with the fine scales at the corner of his lips. Zhang Shuguang raised his hand to touch them. “I haven’t had a clue what I was doing this whole time. I was just in a daze.”

After the transformation, he’d suddenly lost his temper and ended up like this. Even though everyone said it was fine, he just couldn’t stop worrying.

Zhang Shuguang rarely failed to hide his emotions, and he was rarely this flustered.

To be honest, if it weren’t for his worry about Mang Jiu’s condition, he would have noticed something was off long ago.

Mang Jiu sighed. “I can’t quite explain what’s going on either. It feels like there’s a ball of fire burning inside me,” he said, blinking once—his long eyelashes fluttering to create a gentle breeze. “I actually want to go take a dip.”

Zhang Shuguang quickly said, “Go ahead, then. Isn’t the Dongchuan River pretty close by?”

“Soak in seawater,” Mang Jiu exhaled, and Zhang Shuguang was nearly blown over by the breath he exhaled.

“Seawater?” he asked in surprise. “There’s no seawater around here for you to soak in. Why don’t you try taking a dip in the river instead?”

Mang Jiu refused. “It feels different.”

He’d gone into the river before to catch fish, and the sensation had been completely different.

If soaking and swimming in the sea brought him physical and mental pleasure, swimming in the river left him feeling completely uncomfortable—unable to swim freely or dive deep.

Zhang Shuguang was becoming increasingly convinced that his mutation was heading toward that of a Chinese dragon.

“Why don’t you find a place to eat a big meal and then come back to rest?” he suggested. “I just have a feeling you might be hungry, too.”

Mang Jiu gave a soft “Mm-hmm” and, surprisingly, agreed with him.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Everyone watched as the giant snake coiled around them began to move slowly, then actually slithered off toward the forest.

“Where are you going?” Mang Er turned to look at Zhang Shuguang as he approached. “All done?”

“Eat,” Mang Jiu replied with a single word.

Zhang Shuguang nodded, his face flushing. “I’m hungry.”

Mang Er looked at him, then glanced at Mang Jiu. “He’s gone to eat. You’re hungry too, aren’t you?”

“Right,” Zhang Shuguang smiled sheepishly and scratched his head. “I’ll go cook. If anyone from the Black Bear Clan shows up later, make sure to have Xiong Bai and Xiong Yu go over and build some rapport with them.”

Mang Er nodded in agreement.

Mang Ba brought back a male giant boar; the massive golden python coiled its tail around the prey as it slithered back at a leisurely pace.

Zhang Shuguang had grown accustomed to the serpentine forms of the Giant Python Clan by now; after all, seeing them every day had desensitized him, no matter how much he feared them.

“I remember someone saying they wanted to eat pork cracklings?” Zhang Shuguang held a small bone knife in his hand, covered with tiny nicks—it was clearly a knife that had been in use for a long time.

Xiong Yu, Xi Shiyi, and Xi Shier nodded in unison. “We want some!”

Lang Jin came over and perched on Xiong Yu’s shoulder. “I want some too, but I’d like a piece with some red meat on it.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded, tracing a section on the Giant Boar’s belly with his small knife. “This cut of meat has a good balance of fat and lean. Cut it off to make honey-glazed grilled meat, slice a piece from the leg for stir-fry, render the fat from the fattier parts, strip the ribs and chop them into small pieces, stew them with potatoes, mushrooms, and dried bamboo shoots—soak some of the mushrooms and dried bamboo shoots I brought—and put the remaining intestines in a basin to soak in salt water, adding plenty of lemongrass to mask the odor.”

“We’ll need to set up a grill, right?”

“We’ll also have to dig out a grand stone pot—the pottery pots we brought won’t hold that much meat.”

“There’s so much wood—let’s carve out some wooden bowls for them to use later.”

“Let’s build a cooking stove—I’ll go get some stones!”

“We’ll need to set up a big table, too! I sure don’t want to eat while crouching on the ground.”

“Chopsticks, chopsticks!”

“These lettuce leaves smell really good, too—let’s stir-fry some!”

“Lettuce is delicious, too. The one Shuguang stir-fried last time was especially crisp!”

“Dried bamboo shoots are delicious too!”

“There aren’t any bamboo groves around here, so we can’t dig up fresh bamboo shoots. I think fresh bamboo shoots taste better than dried ones.”

Listening to them, Zhang Shuguang thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to add some stir-fried lettuce to the meal.

“Let’s divide up the meat first. Don’t remove the skin on the belly side—just pluck off the hair.”

“How are we supposed to pluck all that hair?” Mang Ba, who’d been assigned to portion out the meat, looked at him, a bit bewildered. “One by one?”

Just thinking about that scene was enough to make him cringe.

The few people who had been gathered around discussing what to eat all took a step back at those words, making it clear with their actions that they were not up to the task.

Plucking hair!

So much fur!

They couldn’t do it!

Zhang Shuguang shot them a speechless look, then raised a finger and pointed. “Over there are some banana trees with big leaves. Drag two of them over—the kind with milky white sap oozing from the cut ends. Then smear the sap along the edges of the skin, applying a thick layer. Once it dries, just peel it off.”

The group stared at him with their mouths half-open. Was that really going to work?

Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow. “Get to work. Figure out your own tasks. You sub-beastmen, come over and prepare the ingredients—chop what needs chopping, wash what needs washing.”

Li, standing nearby, said, “You’re the one in charge, after all. All I can think of is stewing a pot of meat.”

“Once you’ve done this a few more times, you’ll know what to eat,” Zhang Shuguang mused, already planning to dig up some sorghum to plant on the back hill once they returned—so he could watch it mature up close. “Today isn’t just about having you guys cook some meat for a meal.”

He looked at the five single sub-beastmen in front of him. “Hu Fei over there—the chieftain of the Golden Tiger Clan—you’ve just met the young people from the Golden Lion and Golden Tiger Clans. What are your impressions?”

The group exchanged glances. Yun spoke up: “I didn’t notice anything else, but I did see that Xiong San is definitely interested in Guo.”

Guo glared at him, her face flushed, but didn’t say anything to refute it.

It seemed he knew full well that Xiong San’s offer to help him grill meat wasn’t just out of the goodness of his heart.

The group burst into laughter, and Li asked, “Guo, what do you think? If it works out, bring him back to our tribe!”

“Do you think this is like foraging for wild vegetables? You can’t just say ‘let’s take him back’ and do it.” Guo sighed. “There’s no way I’m staying here, but if he can come back with us, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“I asked you what you thought of the beastmen from those two tribes—who told you to bring up Guo? He can handle his own affairs; you don’t need to butt in.” Zhang Shuguang looked up at them. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any feelings about it. You’ve been sitting there for ages and traded away quite a bit of stuff—how could you possibly not feel anything?”

Hu Gui walked over just as he heard Zhang Shuguang say those words.

He watched as the beastmen scattered to get to work, each with a clear division of labor and moving with practiced ease.

Seeing the sub-beastmen gathered together, working in the same way—one cutting meat while another washed vegetables—he was quite curious about what they were up to.

Although there weren’t many sub-beastmen in the Golden Tiger Clan, their usual activities were limited to grilling and boiling meat outside their thatched huts; they rarely did anything else. They mostly waited for the beastmen to bring back meat, occasionally venturing out to dig for wild vegetables or pick some fruit.

As for the sub-beastmen of the Golden Lion Clan, needless to say, each sub-beastman serves multiple Beast Lords. They’re busy every day attending to their Beast Lords and looking after their young, so no one would voluntarily venture outside the tribe to forage for wild vegetables or pick fruit—these tasks are almost always handled by the beastmen.

But the sub-beastmen of the Cliffside Tribe were different. He watched as they skillfully prepared wild vegetables he wasn’t familiar with, and judging by the ingredients they were using, he could tell they did this often.

So he decided to come over and ask what these sub-beastmen usually did.

“I think the Golden Tiger Clan is quite a bit better than the Golden Lion Clan,” Li spoke up. With his back turned toward Hu Gui, he was slicing lean meat; the bone knife in his hand moved up and down steadily, his movements practiced and precise, the slices of meat uniformly thick. Although Li’s cooking skills left something to be desired, his knife work when chopping vegetables and meat was truly excellent.

He grunted and said, “At least none of them are looking at me through their nostrils. That Golden Lion Clan beastman who traded jerky with me just now—I almost had Mang Er shove two tree branches up his nostrils.”

As he spoke, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “If any of you take a fancy to a Golden Lion Clan beastman, don’t ever bring him back to the tribe—or you’ll get beaten to death.”

The other four couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Hu Gui raised an eyebrow. That was true—especially their male beastmen; “arrogant” was the perfect word to describe them.

Jiao and Fang noticed Hu Gui standing there, but they didn’t think it was off-limits to comment on their clan’s beastmen in front of him, so they didn’t warn the others across from them.

“What about the beastmen from the Golden Tiger Clan?” Zhang Shuguang dropped the cubes of pure fat into the wok, then continued cutting.

The group thought for a moment, then Lin spoke up: “They look okay—at least better than the Golden Lion Clan, though they can’t compare to the beastmen in our tribe.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Zhang Shuguang was quite interested; he actually thought the beastmen of the Golden Tiger Clan had pretty good temperaments.

Lin clicked his tongue, and Yun scratched his head; they said in unison, “They’re a bit dim.”

Hu Gui’s mouth twitched—and it wasn’t just him; even Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched slightly.

“How are they clueless? They understood the proper etiquette.”

“That Golden Tiger Clan beastman who came to me to trade for jerky asked me how to trade for it and what flavors were available. I told him, and then he made the trade.” After Lin finished speaking, he pointed at Yun. Then he walked over to Yun and asked the exact same questions all over again, trading for another piece.

He raised an eyebrow and pointed to the spot in front of him. “The guy behind him must be from the same clan—I’m sure of it because the patterns on our chests are identical—but he asked me the same thing all over again.”

Lin’s eyes widened. “Do you know what that feels like? The two of them had been discussing it earlier—saying that trading this piece of jerky for two pieces of fresh meat seemed a bit pricey, and wondering what the Sichuan pepper flavor tasted like. Then, the first one had just walked away and the second one was standing right in front of me. I thought he’d just come out and say, ‘Trade me two pieces of jerky,’ but what happened instead?”

Lin sighed. “‘He said, “How do I exchange this jerky? What flavor is it?”’ He drooped his eyelids, his face full of exasperation. “He repeated the same question the first beastman asked. I really—at first I was pretty enthusiastic about explaining things to them, but after so many people asked, my mouth went dry from talking. I was just too lazy to say anything else. I really prefer it when someone just comes up, holds out the meat, and says, ‘Exchange it for two pieces,’ or ‘Exchange it for three pieces.’ That’s the kind I like.”

Yun listened to him, nodding as she spoke, and said with a smile, “Right, right, right—exactly. It’s not that we’re being picky or anything; it’s just that they don’t seem to care about how tired we are.”

After he finished, he pointed at Guo. “Look at Guo over there. When Xiong San was grilling meat for him, he really didn’t let him lift a finger. All you could hear was Guo standing there complaining about this and that. Xiong San even asked him, ‘Are you thirsty? I’ll go get you some water. I have honey—I’ll make you a cup of honey water to drink.’” He snorted. “Why doesn’t anyone ask me? I’m not exactly ugly, you know.”

Jiao and Fang chimed in from the side, “Nobody asked us either!”

Yun drawled, “Aaaah~~~! I can’t compare to the young ones—a few snow seasons make all the difference.”

“Shuguang said that’s called being a few years younger than you.” Guo’s face turned red from their back-and-forth banter, but it was clear he was happy.

“You’re a few years younger than all of us.” Yun reached out to pinch his stomach, causing Guo to laugh and dodge.

As one pinched and the other dodged, they lost their footing, and their bodies suddenly swayed.

“Watch out!”

Yun felt Guo dodge him, and he was about to fall face-first onto the ground.

Startled, he twisted his body quickly, but his left foot tripped over his right, and instead of falling on top of Guo, he tumbled sideways to the ground.

Hu Gui instinctively took a step forward, reaching out to catch Yun as his body lurched sideways.

“Ah!”

“Phew, you didn’t fall. That gave me a scare.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Yun quickly straightened up, feeling a faint twinge of pain in his right ankle. He awkwardly thanked Hu Gui repeatedly.

Hu Gui gently nodded, glancing down at Yun and noticing he was standing on the tips of his right toes. Guessing he’d just twisted it, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Yun instinctively shook his head, then nodded. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

Zhang Shuguang reached out to feel the bone in Yun’s ankle, then pinched the flesh around it, asking, “Does it hurt a lot?”

“It’s okay—it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“It’s sprained. Don’t move around too much for now. I’ll find some herbs to apply to it later.” Zhang Shuguang glared at him. “Don’t you dare pull stunts like that again.”

Yun said with a grin, “I won’t dare, I won’t dare. Next time, I’ll definitely find a flat spot before I take him down.”

Guo, standing nearby, stuck out his tongue. “I’ll make sure you sprain your ankle again next time!”

Zhang Shuguang straightened up and said to Hu Gui, “Thank you.”

Hu Gui glanced at him with a scrutinizing look and asked, “You seem to have a lot of authority. Are you an elder of the tribe?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head. Guo, standing nearby, asked curiously and innocently, “What’s an elder? Does it mean you look really old? Our Shuguang is a god—um—!”

Fang quickly covered his mouth with her hand.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Go chop your vegetables!” Fang glared at him.

Guo also realized he’d almost called Shuguang the “Son of God” and quickly nodded, “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.”

He quieted down, but Hu Gui grew even more puzzled.

Just now, hadn’t he seemed to hear the word “god”?

“God what?”

“He said I’m in good health and won’t grow old,” Zhang Shuguang replied nonchalantly, giving no hint of anything amiss.

Hu Gui let out an “oh” and didn’t ask any further, but his doubts only deepened.

“An elder is someone in the tribe who can make decisions besides the chief. I am an elder of the Golden Tiger Tribe,” he explained.

Everyone nodded. So this was an elder—though their Yaan Tribe didn’t have any.

“Our tribe doesn’t have elders.” Mang Er walked over, glanced at Li and Zhang Shuguang, then looked at Yun. “We only have a chief and a shaman. Usually, the chief and the shaman make decisions on major matters, while we discuss minor matters together.”

“Your tribe has a shaman too?” Hu Fei, who had followed him over, exclaimed in surprise. He grabbed Mang Er’s arm and asked eagerly, “Is there really a shaman? You’re not lying, are you?”

Mang Er pulled his arm away, took two steps toward Li, and came to a stop before replying, “Yes, our shaman is actually in pretty good health.”

There was no need to hide the fact that there was Wu Ming in the tribe; any tribe familiar with them knew of the Wu Ming’s existence—for example, the people of the Ivory Tribe.

Hu Fei’s eyes lit up. She turned to look at Zhang Shuguang and, seeing him smile and nod at her, realized that this was true—they weren’t deliberately pulling her leg.

Hu Fei was actually quite smart; she simply didn’t want to get involved in unnecessary trouble.

Just as when two tribes live together, there is always bound to be some friction—it had happened before—but Shi Quan’s recent attitude had made the people of the Golden Tiger Tribe particularly dissatisfied, and she, too, had serious grievances against him.

However, relocating an entire tribe was no easy task; even if she had considered it, she would have dismissed the idea due to various concerns.

But what Mang Jiu had just said had reignited her thoughts. Hu Fei suppressed her inner thoughts, intending to discuss the matter with her clan members after the gathering. As for whether they would actually go to the location of the Cliffside Tribe, that couldn’t be decided just yet.

She pointed at the items before her and asked, “Are all these for eating? I saw you cutting up a lot of meat earlier.”

Since she had taken the initiative to change the subject, they didn’t press the matter further. Instead, they went along with her and gave her a rundown of the items on the makeshift table.

Zhang Shuguang saw that the beastmen had already set up the stoves they needed and were lighting the fire, so she picked up the wok filled with chunks of fatty meat with both hands and said, “If you’re curious about how we cook our food, you can take a look.”

The siblings Hu Fei and Hu Gui exchanged a glance—they were curious, very curious!

Back in their tribe, they usually ate meat roasted or boiled; they had no idea how to eat meat prepared the way the people of the Yaan Tribe did.

Zhang Shuguang knew full well that these people’s attitude toward food was surely the same as it had been in the Cliffside Tribe before: as long as they were full, it didn’t matter whether it tasted good or not.

But for someone like him, accustomed to modern life, deliciousness was the most important thing. So, under his guidance, the beastmen of the Cliffside Tribe now rarely ate raw meat within the tribe—unless they were out hunting just to fill their stomachs, in which case a group of giant beasts would gather to gulp down flesh and blood whole to satisfy their hunger. But once back at the tribe and in their human forms, they would instinctively begin to seek out delicious food.

Not to mention the sub-beastmen—now that they can prepare a wider variety of flavors, they even switch between two different tastes a day, eating something spicy in the morning and something sour in the afternoon.

However, most people eat only two meals a day; the few who frequently dine with Zhang Shuguang have grown accustomed to three meals.

Li said to Hu Fei with a touch of pride, “That whole pot is fatty meat—we use it to render lard.”

“Rendering oil?” Hu Fei grew even more curious. “Oil is so greasy—is it even edible?” When she ate meat, she always discarded the excessively fatty parts because they made her feel uncomfortable.

Hu Gui stood about a meter behind Zhang Shuguang, watching him stir the pot with a wooden spoon. Then, as he tossed a large handful of weeds into the pot, she furrowed her brow slightly and asked, “How do you eat this stuff?”

“You can render fat to make oil, which we use for cooking. The leftover oil residue can be eaten as a snack with a little salt,” Zhang Shuguang explained without turning his head, then scooped some clean water into the pot. “You can try some later. The kids in our tribe really love the oil residue—it’s very fragrant.”

Hu Gui shook his head in disgust. “No, thanks. I don’t like stuff that kids eat.”

Zhang Shuguang didn’t say anything more. If the oil residue was loved by both young and old in the Yaan Tribe, it naturally had its own unique flavor—and anyone who hadn’t tasted it themselves simply couldn’t appreciate its allure.

“Lang Jin, keep an eye on the fire—don’t let it get too hot. I’ll go take care of something else,” he called out, looking up.

Lang Jin, who had been helping Xi Shier coat the pork skin with mucus, replied and quickly wiped his hands before walking over. With a smile, he said to Zhang Shuguang, “I promise I won’t let the pork cracklings burn!”

“You’re so smart,” Zhang Shuguang said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “I’ll fry some meat slices for you to eat later.”

“Thanks, Shuguang!” Lang Jin beamed even wider.

Zhang Shuguang felt a natural affinity for the tribe’s newly come-of-age beastmen and sub-beastmen; he regarded them as if they were his younger brothers next door. As a result, he would generally grant any reasonable requests they made regarding food.

“Shuguang, is this pot big enough?” Xiong Bai called out from a distance, pointing to the grand stone pot in front of him. “Isn’t it a little too thick?”

Zhang Shuguang ran over, took a look, then glanced at the makeshift stove set up nearby and asked, “Would it crack if it were any thinner? Is this the same kind of stone we usually use?”

“Mm-hmm,” Xiong Bai nodded. “There’s usually plenty of this kind of stone near the tribe. We should be able to dig up some more without any trouble. This one’s about the same as the one you use back at the tribe.”

Zhang Shuguang thought about how long it usually took him to stew meat in a stone pot—it didn’t seem particularly slow—so he said, “Let’s leave it as is. Don’t dig any more. What if it cracks halfway through stewing the meat? Then all our hard work would be for nothing.”

Xiong Bai nodded. “Then I’ll go smooth out the bottom of the pot. Terror bird scales work best for this. I still have two scale plates in my cave; I’ll bring them over to you when we get back so you can make a pot.”

“Don’t bother. I have enough pots over here,” Zhang Shuguang said with a smile, declining his offer. “When you get a sub-beastman later, you can make a pot for him.”

Xiong Bai’s eyes lit up, but then he shook his head. “Where would I find a sub-beastman? Didn’t you see? The people from the Lion-Tiger Tribe were practically staring at our sub-beastman with wide eyes. And that Xiong San—tsk, tsk, tsk—his intentions were way too obvious. He’s clearly got his eye on our Guo.”

Zhang Shuguang gave him an amused look, then turned to Hu Gui and asked bluntly, “Are there very few sub-beastmen in your tribe?”

Hu Gui shrugged. “It’s not too bad. We have over twenty sub-beastmen in the Golden Tiger Clan.”

“Only twenty-odd?” Xiong Bai was shocked. “That’s way too few!”

Hu Gui shot him a sidelong glance. “Are there a lot of sub-beastmen in your tribe?”

Xiong Bai blurted out without thinking, “At least around two hundred.”

This time, it was Hu Gui’s turn to be surprised. “That many?”

“Is that a lot?” Xiong Bai gave him a look that said, “You really have no idea what you’re talking about,” and waved his hand dismissively. “Our tribe has over four hundred beastmen—way more than sub-beastmen.”

“You have over four hundred beastmen?” Hu Gui’s eyes widened as he pressed, “Really, over four hundred? What about the giant beasts? How many are there in the Giant Beast Clan?”

Xiong Bai blinked, glanced at Zhang Shuguang, who was looking away, and suddenly realized he might have said a bit too much.

He shut his mouth and went back to grinding the stone, saying nothing more.

Zhang Shuguang scratched his chin; he couldn’t help but feel that Xiong Bai’s earlier demeanor had been a bit showy.

Seeing that Xiong Bai wasn’t responding, Hu Gui turned to Zhang Shuguang and asked urgently, “Are there really over four hundred beastmen? Are there a lot of Giant Beasts, too?”

Zhang Shuguang glanced at the beastmen present and pointed to the Black Wolf Clan brothers chopping wood not far away. “They’re ordinary beastmen.”

Hu Gui turned to look in their direction. “The Black Wolf Clan?”

“Mm-hmm. In our tribe, only the Black Wolf Clan are ordinary beasts; the rest are all Giant Beasts,” Zhang Shuguang smiled. With an expression that could be described as chilling, he slowly added, “Even the little ones are almost all Giant Beasts.”

“Really?” Hu Gui’s eyes widened.

Xiong Bai chimed in from the side, “Of course it’s true. Everyone in our tribe has exceptional bloodlines; it’s perfectly normal for them to give birth to Giant Beast Clan cubs.”

Zhang Shuguang thought about it for a moment; it seemed to make sense. Even if a beastman was an ordinary one, a sub-beastman with Giant Beast Clan blood could still give birth to a Giant Beast Clan offspring. Moreover, based on his observations, even the ordinary beastmen of the Black Wolf Clan were much stronger than those of other tribes.

If they’re already much more robust in human form, they’re bound to be larger in beast form as well.

Hu Gui’s face was stern as he turned to look at Hu Fei.

Hu Fei had clearly heard it as well and looked back at him. The brother and sister stared at each other from a distance, neither of them speaking.

For beastmen, evolution can increase their strength but cannot truly transform them into members of the Giant Beast Clan. Even offspring born to parents who are members of the Giant Beast Clan may not be Giant Beast Clan members themselves but rather ordinary beastmen. However, the situation at the Cliffside Tribe clearly defied logic.

At least, among the tribes they knew of, no tribe had that many members of the Giant Beast Clan.

Hu Fei’s mind raced; she believed Hu Gui’s thoughts were just as unsettled.

Zhang Shuguang motioned to Xiong Bai to get back to work and stop talking, lest they upset anyone.

Xiong Bai scratched his head and continued polishing the bottom of the pot.

By the time the Black Bear Clan members arrived, Zhang Shuguang had already ladled out a pot of oil dregs, and the large pot of rendered animal fat had filled five earthenware jars to the brim.

Each person was given a small earthenware bowl filled with pork drippings sprinkled with a pinch of fine salt.

The Black Bear Clan beastmen held their small bowls, breathing in the aroma of meat wafting through the air with rapture. As they gazed at the golden-brown pork drippings in their bowls, none of them ate.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to eat it—it was simply that they couldn’t bear to eat it.

It smelled absolutely amazing!

They had never smelled anything so delicious before!

“Go ahead, it’s really delicious.” Guo held a small bowl in his hands, picked up a piece with his chopsticks, popped it into his mouth, and chewed happily, his eyes narrowed in bliss. He said to Xiong San, “You don’t get to eat these pork drippings every day—only when we’re rendering lard. Usually, we just stir-fry the fatty meat directly into our dishes.”

Xiong San nodded. Seeing how much Guo was enjoying it, he scooped some of the pork cracklings from his own bowl and offered them to Guo. “It smells amazing just to smell it—if you like it, have as much as you want.”

Guo paused for a moment, then looked up at him.

Xiong San wasn’t actually particularly handsome, and perhaps because black bears are naturally plump in their beastman form, he had a typical square face, giving him an overall appearance of being very honest and trustworthy.

Guo, however, was very attractive—or rather, there wasn’t a single beastman or sub-beastman in the Yaan Tribe who wasn’t attractive.

So when she lifted her eyelids to look at him—just that one glance—Xiong San’s eyes went wide, and his face immediately flushed crimson. His naturally light brown skin turned even redder; to be honest, it looked a bit comical rather than attractive.

But Guo thought this guy was really, really nice—exceptionally so!

Back in the tribe, if he had a bowl of pork drippings, he’d practically want to cover it up and eat it in secret—otherwise, anyone who saw it would reach in and grab a couple of pieces. Even the beastmen who had even the slightest interest in her had never once offered to share their drippings with her!

Don’t ask why they wouldn’t share it. In the Cliffside Tribe, almost none of the beastmen regarded sub-beastmen as needing special treatment. Aside from the fact that sub-beastmen didn’t go hunting due to their lack of strength, everyone basically did the same things—for example, beastmen hunted, sub-beastmen gathered, and then they all cooked, wove baskets, and did handicrafts together.

Unlike beastmen from other tribes—who, having rarely encountered sub-beastmen, viewed them as beings to be fawned over and revered—the Golden Lion Clan was an exception. Their beastly nature was that of arrogant, haughty lions, so they didn’t feel the need to pamper sub-beastmen either.

“You eat it yourself!” Guo’s face flushed as well; a faint blush spread to her cheeks as she scooped the greaves from her bowl and poured them back into Xiong San’s, adding quite a bit more. Lowering her eyes, she said, “I eat this all the time—you should have more!”

Xiong San nodded vigorously and gruffly said, “I’ve already eaten it all! I’ve eaten it all!”

Guo burst out laughing and shot him a sidelong glance. “You’re so silly.”

“Silly, hehe, I’m silly!” Xiong San shoveled the pork cracklings into his mouth in big bites. He couldn’t really taste anything for the first three bites, but by the fourth, the rich aroma filling his mouth left him stunned. “This is so delicious!”

Guo giggled nonstop. “You’re such a goofball!”