The fine, snow-white salt trickled through his fingers like fine sand.

Staring at the grains of salt remaining in his hand, Hou Shi fixed Zhang Shuguang with a feverish gaze; his uncontrollable excitement made his expression look slightly ferocious.

“Salt—this salt—how do we trade for it? We’ll trade for it!”

Zhang Shuguang smiled politely. “How exactly would you like to trade this?”

“We call them fruit juices—sweet, sour, and sweet-and-sour.” Hou Shi looked at him, then at the fine grains of salt clinging to his hand. He lowered his eyes, thought for a moment, and asked tentatively, “Do you want a lot? If you’re willing to trade a lot, I can give you more in exchange.”

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at Mang Jiu, who nodded.

“Could you wait a moment? We only brought a limited amount of salt, but I’d really like to have this juice,” he said. He planned to go back and discuss it with Mang Er. He was confident the people in his tribe would love the taste of this fruit-fermented drink, but it wasn’t practical to bring back too much at once. “Do you still have this juice in your tribe?”

Hou Shi looked at him and nodded. “Yes, we store large quantities of fruit to make this juice.”

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes lit up, and he asked, “Then would you be interested in visiting our tribe? We could actually establish a long-term trade relationship. Our tribe has not only fine salt but also other goods. If you’re interested, feel free to stop by our stall—we’ll be bringing in more items for trade over the next few days.”

Hou Shi pondered for a moment and realized he had a point.

No matter how you looked at it, the fine salt from the Cliffside Tribe was better than the salt blocks from the Salt Mountain Tribe. If the price was reasonable, they really could engage in long-term trade. “All right, I’ll stop by later to take a look. So, how do you plan to trade this salt?” He asked in return.

“It takes a long time to ferment and brew your fruit juice, even though it might not be that difficult to make,” Zhang Shuguang rubbed his chin and looked up at Hou Shi, noticing that the expression on his face had grown somewhat stiff. He said, “How about one bucket for one bag of salt? Would that work?”

Hou Shi glanced at the bag of salt in his hand and furrowed his brow slightly.

Before Hou Shi could speak, Zhang Shuguang added, “Those bags over there—they’re so big. Would that work for you?”

Hou Shi looked up and followed the direction of his finger, spotting the stack of animal-skin bags. The hint of dissatisfaction that had just flashed in his eyes vanished in an instant. “All right, all right, of course that’s fine!”

That bag of salt would be enough to feed his clan for a long time.

Although making fruit juice took a long time and the flavor could easily be ruined, compared to the value of a sack of salt, it was completely insignificant.

“Then give me one bucket to start with. I’ll take it back for my clan to try. If they all like it, I’ll come back and trade for more.” Zhang Shuguang patted Mang Jiu on the shoulder. “Bring me a bag from my salt supply.”

“Mm-hmm.” Mang Jiu didn’t ask why he wasn’t taking salt from the tribe; after all, Shuguang always had his own reasons for doing things, so there was no need for him to say more.

Mang Jiu turned to fetch the salt and, while he was at it, carried the wooden bucket back. They’d asked for a bucket of the sweet-and-sour variety, and Hou Shi also gave Zhang Shuguang a small wooden bucket of sour fruit juice as a gift.

“Come on, sit down.” Hou Shi smiled cheerfully at Zhang Shuguang, reached out to pull him behind the stall, and poured him a small bowl of sour juice. “Does your tribe have a lot of salt?”

Zhang Shuguang acted like a completely clueless sub-beastman, answering every question he was asked without hesitation—he was so well-behaved.

“Yes, everyone has enough salt to eat, and there’s plenty left over.” He held the small bowl in both hands and took a small sip. “We only brought a few this time because the chief was worried we’d get too tired; otherwise, we could have brought even more.”

Hou Shi’s eyes flashed with a sharp gleam; he couldn’t wait to rush over to the Cliffside Tribe right then and there to trade for all their salt before the next snow season.

“The chief said the purpose of this trip was to let the tribes closest to us know they don’t have to be held hostage by the Salt Mountain Tribe. If they want salt, they can come to our tribe to trade for it—the price won’t be too high.” Zhang Shuguang took another sip of sour fruit juice; his cheeks flushed crimson and his eyes half-closed, his expression one of pure enjoyment as he spoke slowly, slightly tipsy.

Hou Shi nodded repeatedly and praised, “Chief Xiong Kui is a truly good man. We’ll definitely go trade for salt!”

“Great, we’d be delighted to have you.” Zhang Shuguang drained the juice from his small bowl in one gulp, let out a burp heavy with the scent of fruit wine, pushed himself up from the ground, and then swayed slightly. Hou Shi reached out to steady him, but Zhang Shuguang waved him off, chuckling, “I’m fine. I’m going back to see if they’ve had a drink yet.”

Hou Shi watched him leave, then turned to discuss with his clan members the plan to trade for salt at the Cliffside Tribe after the gathering.

Zhang Shuguang staggered back to his tribe’s stall area, then shook off his earlier drunken appearance, and even the dazed look in his eyes completely faded.

He glanced at the bucket of sweet-and-sour fruit brew that Mang Jiu had brought back, opened it to take a look, and found it full to the brim.

“Shuguang, what’s this?” The beastmen, drawn by the scent, sniffed the air, their faces full of curiosity.

Zhang Shuguang turned his head and saw that Mang Jiu had already returned. He turned back and scooped a small bowl of the fruit brew for each of them. “Give it a try.”

The beastmen looked at Zhang Shuguang, then down at the small bowls in their hands.

“Is this fruit juice?” Mang Er sniffed it and took a sip. “It’s sweet and sour.”

“It doesn’t taste like regular fruit juice,” Mang Jiu said after finishing the fruit-fermented juice in his bowl and setting it down. “Shuguang thought you’d like it, so he swapped for a whole barrel himself. If you all like it, we’ll take some back to the tribe.”

Zhang Shuguang waited until they had all finished drinking, then observed their expressions and noticed that no one seemed to dislike it.

He tilted his head, thought for a moment, and asked, “Do you like it?”

“It’s good.”

“It’s okay.”

“It doesn’t taste as good as honey water.”

“It’s pretty good. After drinking it, I feel light as a feather.”

“I like it.”

Zhang Shuguang noticed their tastes differed, but most people still liked it.

He clapped his hands and said, “Get another bucket—we’ll take it back for the others in the tribe to try.”

“I bet a lot of people will like it—it makes you feel all warm inside.” Mang Jiu drank another bowl, and his honey-colored skin took on a distinct crimson hue.

Zhang Shuguang paused for a moment, then quickly reached out to stop him. “This stuff can go to your head once it’s fermented. Be careful not to get drunk if you drink too much.”

Mang Jiu grunted in acknowledgment, clearly feeling the aftereffects of the juice.

“It is pretty warm,” Mang Er said, raising a hand to rub his neck. “It’ll be great to drink during the snow season.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “If it’s made from fermented grains, the alcohol content is higher, and it’s easier to get drunk. We haven’t found any usable grain seeds yet, but I did see sorghum in the Coastal Forest. Once it ripens, it can be fermented into alcohol or cooked into rice—it’s very fragrant.”

Hearing this, everyone’s faces lit up with longing.

“When will it be ripe?”

“What is sorghum?”

“When it’s ripe, we’ll help you harvest it!”

Zhang Shuguang smiled and nodded, gesturing for them to take some salt with them to trade for a barrel of fruit wine.

Mang Jiu wrapped one arm around his waist, rested his chin on his shoulder, and mumbled, “I’m sleepy.”

“You’re already sleepy?” Zhang Shuguang was taken aback—two bowls of fruit wine had actually gotten such a huge snake drunk!

Mang Jiu, his eyes half-closed, gave a soft “Mm.”

Zhang Shuguang turned his head to glance at him and saw that he was on the verge of falling asleep. He couldn’t help but sigh. “Then go sleep on your own. I still need to visit a few other tribes to see if I can trade for anything useful.”

Mang Jiu shook his head without saying a word, his arms tightening around Zhang Shuguang even more.

Mang Er shot him a glance and kicked him with his foot. “Stop messing around here. Go sleep over there.”

Mang Jiu lifted his eyelids to glare at him, and Mang Er glared back. “Not happy about that? You’re making it impossible for Shuguang to get any work done.”

Mang Jiu snorted, shifting from one hand on his waist to both, “Mine.”

Zhang Shuguang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He raised his hand and patted Mang Jiu’s shoulder. “I’m yours, I’m yours. Now go to sleep.”

“I’m going to sleep just like this.” Mang Jiu didn’t let go. He stretched out his long legs to wrap around Zhang Shuguang’s, wrapped both arms around his waist, and rested his chin on his shoulder. His whole body was like a human blanket, completely enveloping him.

Zhang Shuguang exhaled. Seeing that Mang Er was about to say something else, he quickly raised his hand to stop him. “It’s fine. Let him sleep for now. We’ll talk after he wakes up.”

Mang Er looked at him speechlessly and warned, “You’ll have a hard time getting up later if you stay like this.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, I know, but what am I supposed to do? Given Mang Jiu’s current “no mercy for anyone” attitude, if I actually tried to pull the guy off him, heh, he might just turn into a snake right on the spot!

“It’s fine. We’ll just have Mang Jiu change positions later.”

That’s easier said than done—would Mang Jiu really change positions?

He did.

He went from hugging her from behind to lying on his side with her tucked in his arms.

At that moment, Zhang Shuguang was nothing more than a human body pillow, letting Mang Jiu knead and squeeze him however he pleased.

He was so frustrated he couldn’t even be bothered to roll his eyes.

He was even forced to take a morning nap with him.

It wasn’t until it was time for lunch that Zhang Shuguang struggled to free himself from the other man’s embrace—not because he was strong enough to break free from Mang Jiu’s hold, but because Mang Jiu had let go of his own accord.

Even while still drunk, this man wouldn’t let Zhang Shuguang go hungry.

Mang Er sighed, reached out to pull Zhang Shuguang up from the floor, and asked with concern, “Can you walk? Are you okay?”

Zhang Shuguang looked at him helplessly and said weakly, “Brother—my own brother—do I look like I can walk?”

At that moment, he couldn’t even straighten his back.

As he struggled to stretch his limbs, a series of cracking sounds echoed—Mang Er was afraid he might snap his own bones.

Zhang Shuguang exhaled and thought to himself that he really needed to practice some yoga when he had nothing else to do; otherwise, one day he’d be suffocated to death by Mang Jiu’s iron-clamp-like embrace.

After lunch, Zhang Shuguang headed back to the Forest Caf Clan’s stall. Mang Jiu didn’t follow—he was still asleep.

Mao Yuan saw Zhang Shuguang walking over alone and tapped the beastman next to him. “Mao Ning, go.”

Mao Ning looked at him in confusion, a puzzled expression on his face: “Where?”

Mao Yuan glared at him and gave him a meaningful look. “Over there.”

“Huh?” Mao Ning turned his head to look and saw that Zhang Shuguang was already standing in front of their stall, curiously examining the items laid out on the animal hide.

Zhang Shuguang examined each item in turn and noticed that the Forest Cat Clan was displaying mostly small bones, several of which were very thin and resembled fish bones.

“Are these fish bones?” He pointed at the items on the animal hide. “Are they all fish bones?”

Mao Ning nodded, looking at him somewhat flustered. “Do you want to trade for something?”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at him. He was quite tall but looked very young; he must have been brought out by an elder from his clan to gain experience as well.

Mao Ning scratched his head. Seeing that the man was staring at him without speaking, he took the initiative to explain, “The fishbone tools our clan makes are very finely crafted. They’re easy to use in daily life. Don’t let their simple, unassuming appearance fool you—once you try them, you’ll see they’re really quite useful.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded slightly. Regardless of whether the others were practical or not, this fishbone needle was definitely useful—they’d even drilled a hole at the tip of the fishbone, making it essentially a large sewing needle.

“What’s that hole for?”

“To thread it.” Mao Ning took a ball of thread from a leather pouch nearby and handed it to him. “This is it.”

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened. He looked at the brownish-black thread in his hand—it was hemp thread, genuine hemp thread!

“How much of this thread do you have?”

Mao Ning paused for a moment. In the past, the tribes that traded with them mostly came to exchange for dried fish or fishbone tools; thread was practically useless to them. They always said it was too thin and not sturdy enough. Besides, they’d never managed to trade away this fishbone needle—it was just sitting here to fill space.

When Zhang Shuguang asked directly about the thread, he really didn’t know what to say.

He was the one who discovered this thread. Plenty of this grass grew right next to their tribe. One time during the snow season, when he was bored and wandering around, he cut down the tall grass to use for a fire, but then several heavy snowfalls came one after another, burying much of it under the snow.

After the snow season ended, he accidentally stumbled upon these buried grasses and discovered an exceptionally fine thread beneath the grass.

So, both the fishbone needle and the thread were invented by Mao Ning.

After listening to his story, Zhang Shuguang raised his hand and gave him a thumbs-up. “A genius—absolutely a genius—a true master craftsman!”

To put it simply, coming up with the idea of punching holes in fish bones and threading them—that’s a breakthrough.

“I’d like to trade you for the seeds of this grass,” Zhang Shuguang said with a smile, waving the ball of thread in his hand. “I’d also like to extend an invitation to you.”

Mao Ning looked baffled. “What invitation? You want to trade for this tall grass? It’s not good for anything.”

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand dismissively. “If I say it’s useful, then it’s useful. I’ll trade you salt for it. If you have a lot of this long grass, you can give it to me directly—I want the seeds, too.” He looked at Mao Ning and asked with a smile, “I’d like to invite you to visit the Cliffside Tribe and take a look around. Would you be up for it?”

Mao Ning froze, taking a long while to process what he’d said. He quickly turned to look at Mao Yuan.

Mao Yuan’s expression wasn’t exactly pleasant at that moment. Not only had his own scheming caused them to miss out on being the first to make contact with the Cliffside Tribe, but now this young sub-beastman was actually inviting members of their tribe to visit the tribe—to see what? It was blatantly an attempt to poach their tribe members!

Don’t think he didn’t know what the Cliffside Tribe was up to—the Black Bear Clan and the Golden Tiger Clan were already seriously considering a move. Who knows? After this gathering, those two clans might just follow suit and migrate to the Cliffside Tribe!

Mao Yuan kept a stiff upper lip, and when Zhang Shuguang looked his way, he tugged at the corners of his mouth into a smile that was… more of a forced grin than a genuine one—in any case, it certainly didn’t look friendly.

Whether it was his facial features or something else, Zhang Shuguang noticed that compared to Xiong Ri and Hou Shi—who were also tribal elders—Mao Yuan truly lacked the dignified bearing one would expect from an elder.

He smiled politely and repeated what he had just said to Mao Yuan.

But this time, he didn’t limit the invitation to just Mao Ning; instead, he said, “If you’re interested, you’re welcome to bring your people to visit our tribe after the gathering.”

Mao Yuan glanced at the items on the stall. In the past, there were always plenty of people trading for the dried fish, but this sub-beastman didn’t even give it a second look.

He simply couldn’t help himself and asked, “You don’t want dried fish? Just this planf?”

“We have dried fish—ours is salted sea fish, so it’s naturally salty,” Zhang Shuguang said with a smile. Noticing the look of suspicion in his eyes, he turned and waved to the sub-beastman standing nearby. “I’ll take some dried fish!”

Ying Wu brought him two pieces of dried fish and didn’t leave.

Noticing the dumpling in Zhang Shuguang’s hand, he asked in confusion, “What’s this?”

“It’s plant fiber—you can use it to make clothes,” Zhang Shuguang explained. He took the dried fish and immediately handed it to Mao Yuan. “Please try some.”

Mao Yuan looked at the dried fish he was handed with surprise. He bent down to sniff it—a fresh, salty aroma wafted up, and there was a layer of white crystalline salt on the fish skin. It wasn’t hard to imagine that this dried fish must taste excellent.

“Did you make this dried fish yourselves? How much salt did you use, and how do we trade for it?”

Zhang Shuguang’s smile seemed etched onto his face as he replied, “We didn’t use any salt—we just air-dried it. I haven’t really figured out how to trade for it yet.”

Mao Ning, standing nearby, couldn’t resist tearing off a piece of fish and popping it into her mouth. After chewing a few times, she looked at Zhang Shuguang with sparkling eyes: “Are there a lot of sea fish? More than in the Dongchuan River?”

“The ocean is much vaster than the Dongchuan River. If you ever visit our tribe, you should take a stroll along the coast—I’m sure you’ll love it there.” Zhang Shuguang never missed an opportunity to recruit new members for the tribe; after all, one was never enough, and two was even better—any non-tribal beastman who joined was a net gain.

Mao Ning nodded repeatedly. “I’ll go! I’ll definitely go!”

Zhang Shuguang smiled in response and asked, “Can you give me back those grass seeds? One small bag of grass seeds for one small bag of salt.”

As he spoke, he pulled another small leather pouch from his waist and handed it over. “Here’s the salt.”

Mao Ning took the small pouch and squeezed it; he could feel the fine grains of salt inside. He turned to look at Mao Yuan.

Mao Yuan didn’t say anything, but the beastman standing next to him spoke up: “Trade it! That’s salt! Mao Ning, you’re always growing that grass—you must have saved some seeds. It’s rare to find someone willing to trade with you—what are you hesitating for?”

Zhang Shuguang was momentarily bewildered. Did he just hear a celebrity’s name?

“Your name is…?”

“My name is Mao Ning.”

“My name is Shuguang.”

Zhang Shuguang tried his best to keep a straight face—he couldn’t laugh.

Mao Ning—good morning?

Mao Ning glanced at Mao Yuan. Seeing that he wasn’t saying anything, he licked his lips. In the end, he couldn’t bear to part with the salt in his hand, so he said to Zhang Shuguang, “I don’t have that many seeds right now—I only brought some balls of yarn. Do you want them?”

“Sure. Then give me back all the balls of yarn, and this needle too,” Zhang Shuguang thought for a moment, then pulled a small leather pouch from his waist and handed it over. “Here, take this as well.”

Mao Ning’s eyes widened in disbelief. He stammered, “All of this… all of this is for me?”

“Right. If I only had seeds, I’d have to grow them and spin this yarn myself, so I’d get less salt in exchange. But since you’ve provided this ready-made material, I just need to process it further, so I’ll give you more salt in return.”

Finished goods and semi-finished goods are always priced differently. If he could process these skeins of thread into cloth, the price would be even higher.

Mao Ning didn’t quite understand, but he remembered that the skeins of thread could be traded for more salt.

He quickly turned around, opened his leather bag, pulled out more than ten fist-sized skeins of yarn, and shoved them all at once into Zhang Shuguang’s hands.

He looked so eager, as if he were afraid Zhang Shuguang might suddenly change his mind.

Zhang Shuguang was overjoyed. With so many skeins, it might not be enough to make a whole set of clothes, but it was definitely enough to weave a face towel!

Finally, he wouldn’t have to deal with animal fur rubbing all over his face anymore!

So happy!

Ying Wu stood silently nearby, his eyes drifting to the animal-skin belt around Zhang Shuguang’s waist, which was strung with a row of small animal-skin pouches.

Once Zhang Shuguang had finished swapping out the skeins, he reached out to help hold them and couldn’t resist asking, “Did you divide the last bag of salt into smaller pouches?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile. “I asked Jiao to help me make them. These pouches just have a tie at the top—they’re easy to make and very convenient.”

Ying Wu nodded. It was indeed quite convenient—the salt wouldn’t spill out at all.

Mao Ning volunteered to help deliver the skeins of thread, and Zhang Shuguang nodded in thanks.

At the tribe’s stall, many people came to exchange items for salt. No one was trading in large quantities; everyone came individually with their own items to trade.

The items they brought in exchange were all over the place—from fresh meat to fruits—though most were edible goods.

Mao Ning took a look around the stall and noticed that Zhang Shuguang’s bamboo-woven items were very practical.

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the bamboo basket in front of Yun.

Yun explained what it was. Seeing that he was interested, she handed it to him so he could try it on. “You can fit a lot in here. We usually carry these when we go foraging for wild vegetables.”

Mao Ning walked around with it on his back, twisted his body a few times, and did some bending and squatting motions. He then realized it was truly very practical—he could barely feel any weight at all!

“I want to trade for this. How do I do it?” He looked at Yun with sparkling eyes.

Yun paused for a moment, glanced at the backpack he was still reluctant to take off, and scratched his head. “I—I don’t know. I’ll have to ask around later.”

“Shuguang, how do I swap out my backpack?”

Zhang Shuguang turned his head to glance at him and asked, “You can swap out your own backpack—swap it for whatever you want.”

“I don’t know what to trade it for,” Yun said, sounding a bit frustrated. “When I was weaving the basket, I never thought about what I could get in exchange. Plus, it was so easy to weave—I finished it in no time.”

“You think it’s easy because you’ve got the hang of it. If you don’t believe me, take it apart and let him try—he definitely won’t be able to put it back together,” Zhang Shuguang said with a smile. “You can set the price yourself.”

Yun scratched his head, sat back down, glanced at Mao Ning, and asked, “What do you have to trade with me?”

Mao Ning glanced at Zhang Shuguang, who was fiddling with a ball of yarn, and gave an awkward smile. “I have some fish bone crafts and some dried fish.”

“No thanks on the dried fish—we already have some,” Yun said, shaking her head. Noticing how much Mao Ning wanted the backpack, she asked, “Can I take a look at your fishbone crafts?”

Mao Ning quickly nodded. Without even taking off his backpack, he ran back to his stall, grabbed one of each item lying on the animal hide, tossed them into the backpack on his back, and then rushed back.

Mao Yuan was taken aback by his actions, but he still recognized the practical value of that backpack.

“You should go take a look, too,” he said to the beastman standing beside him.

Mao Bei nodded and followed him.

Mao Ning returned to Yun’s table, took the items out of the backpack one by one, placed them on the table, and looked at Yun with eager eyes: “Will these work?”

Yun picked them up one by one and asked him, “What’s this?”

“It’s for combing hair. The fishbone is very sturdy and won’t break.” Mao Ning picked it up and ran it through his hair a couple of times.

Zhang Shuguang turned his head to look. The teeth were finer than those of a wooden comb, and it was shaped exactly like a fish.

Yun set it down and picked up another one that was slightly larger. “What about this one?”

“You can wrap things around it. I usually wrap thin vines around it so they don’t end up all over the floor when I use them.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. Don’t let its unassuming appearance fool you—it’s actually quite handy to use.

“And this one?”

“It can pierce through animal hides—it’s very sharp.”

“And this one?”

“It can be used as a knife—it’s lighter than a stone knife.”

Zhang Shuguang scratched his chin. Actually, fish bones would make nice jewelry, but they didn’t have that kind of aesthetic sense—it probably hadn’t been developed yet.

Yun actually thought these items were rather useless—they didn’t serve much purpose, and besides, if he wanted to, he could make them himself.

Seeing him look down and remain silent, Mao Ning realized the items she’d brought held little appeal for him, so she set down her backpack. “If you don’t like these, I don’t have anything else.”

Seeing how disappointed he looked, Yun couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

Zhang Shuguang watched from the side, saying nothing.

Yun turned around and picked up a bamboo backpack from the back—it was a bit smaller than the one Mao Ning had set down. He handed it over and asked, “Can I trade this for what you brought?”

Mao Ning’s eyes lit up again, and he quickly nodded. “Sure! Thank you! You’re such a kind person!”

Yun smiled sheepishly. Watching him walk away happily with the bamboo basket on his back, he placed the fishbone crafts he’d traded for on the table into the basket, then turned to look at Zhang Shuguang: “Is it okay for me to trade like this?”

“Of course. If you think it’s fine, then it’s fine.”

Mao Bei had watched the whole thing from the sidelines. He didn’t say anything until they returned to their stall, when he remarked, “The sub-beastmen of the Cliffside Tribe are all pretty easy to get along with.”

Mao Yuan glanced at him.

Mao Ning nodded repeatedly in agreement: “Right. That sub-beastman just now traded it to me because he could tell I really liked it.”

Mao Bei: “Hmm, I feel sorry for you.”

“Well, I managed to trade for a bamboo backpack too! I’m going to look for some fruit in a bit—and if I can hunt some game, even better.” Mao Ning slung the bamboo backpack over her back and said to Mao Yuan, “Elder, I’m going out to hunt.”

Mao Yuan nodded. “Go together, then. Bring back plenty of live game.”

Their advantage was dried fish, but since the others didn’t need it, they’d have to use live game to trade for what the others needed.

“Elder,” Mak Xin spoke up from the side, “I don’t think that sub-beastman is all that fond of live game,” he said, pointing to the busy beasts not far away. “Their beastmen are all giants; on a single trip out, they bring back more and bigger prey than what we manage to catch with all our effort.”

Mao Yuan sighed and asked him, “What do you have in mind?”

“Earlier, I heard members of the Monkey Clan say that Zhang Shuguang traded juice with them, and now he wants seeds for tall grass. If we can find some plants that are usable—or at least useful—he’ll definitely like them better.” Mao Xin had his own insights; his thinking was quite unconventional, and he had even guessed Zhang Shuguang’s needs correctly.

Mao Yuan pondered for a moment, but ultimately accepted his suggestion.

After all, they really didn’t have much to offer; if they wanted to trade for salt, they’d need something of value.

“You all go look around. Bring back anything edible, or that can be used to make things.”

The young beastmen nodded and set off in groups.

Mao Xin slapped Mao Ning on the shoulder, and the two walked forward like close brothers.

Mao Ning turned his head to look at him and asked, “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Yeah,” Mao Xin nodded. Seeing that the others had already scattered to search on their own, he pulled Mao Ning in the direction no one else had gone. “I have an idea I’d like to discuss with you.”

“What kind of idea?” Mao Ning looked at him suspiciously.

“You heard it yourself when Shuguang traded yarn balls with you earlier. I heard you can get more stuff in exchange for yarn balls than for seeds. If you give him back all the yarn balls, you’ll get more salt. Then you can use that salt to trade for other things, and keep trading back and forth. What do you think?” Mao Xin said with a serious expression, “Of course, you’ll still have to give him that bag of seeds you promised to trade for.”

Mao Ning was taken aback by his words and asked uncertainly, “Can we really do that?”

“Sure. The seeds you gave him are more than enough to plant, and he didn’t say he’d keep asking for seeds forever,” Mao Xin continued to persuade her. “Don’t you think that if everyone in the tribe grows this grass, we might be able to trade for even more salt in the future? With salt, we’ll be able to get all sorts of other things.”

Although Mao Ning thought his words made sense, he still felt that doing this didn’t seem quite right.

Seeing that he was tempted, Mao Xin continued to persuade him: “Besides, don’t you like the chief’s son? If you can bring back a huge amount of salt for the tribe, the chief will be so happy that he might even agree to let you have a child with his son.”

Mao Ning pursed his lips and nodded slightly. “Well, I’ll have to ask Shuguang first. It’ll only work if he thinks I can trade my balls of yarn for things directly with him in the future.”

“You…” Mao Xin sighed, pursing his lips. “Fine, fine. Go ahead and ask him. He definitely won’t want to spend more salt on your yarn balls. Now that he has seeds, he’ll grow his own—who’d trade salt for them anyway?”

Mao Ning said nothing; he didn’t think Zhang Shuguang was that kind of person.

After searching the woods, they found quite a few edible wild plants. Deciding to give it a try, they took them over to trade for other items.

Zhang Shuguang was figuring out how to weave hemp thread into cloth. He had a rough idea, but unfortunately, it still needed to be tested in practice—he’d have to wait until he returned to the tribe to try it out slowly.

Just as the Forest Cat tribe members arrived, he was about to head over to the Golden Tiger tribe’s stall, but found himself blocked at the table.

Looking at the wild vegetables and other plants they’d brought, Zhang Shuguang was taken aback.

He’d originally planned to wait until Mang Jiu woke up, then take advantage of the daylight to go out with him and see if they could find any edible or useful plants in the vicinity.

It really was a case of “just when you’re feeling sleepy, someone hands you a pillow”!

His expression betrayed his delight, and Mao Xin raised an eyebrow smugly. “See? I told you he’d like this.”

Zhang Shuguang stared at the cluster of golden, plump ears of grain, picked one up, and asked, “Who found this?”

“I found it,” Mao Ning said sheepishly. “It doesn’t taste very good, but I’ve seen quite a few small wild animals eating it.”

“Are there a lot? Are there many of these spikes where you found them?” Zhang Shuguang pressed.

“Not many—just a few plants. I picked them all,” Mao Ning said, not quite understanding why he was so excited. “Can I trade them for salt?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Zhang Shuguang took a deep breath and said solemnly, “If you find these in the future—whether they’re green or yellow—as long as you find them, I’ll take them. Whatever you want in exchange, I’ll give it to you.”

The beastmen of the Forest Cat Clan were stunned. Could such an inconspicuous thing really be so useful?

Zhang Shuguang carefully guarded the few golden wheat ears on the table, then turned and called out, “Second Brother, bring over a bag of salt!”

Mang Er carried over a bag of salt, set it on the table, and glanced at the wild vegetables and fruits. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “These? There are plenty of them in the woods. Just now, Lang Jin even found a little red fruit—it’s a bit sour.”

“Tell him to set the fruit aside for me to take a look later,” Zhang Shuguang said, pointing to the animal-skin bag. “I’ll trade a bag of salt for these. If you can bring more seeds, I’ll trade salt for those too. If you have anything else you want to trade, that’s fine as well.”

“What about this? Can I trade it for anything?” Mao Bei, standing nearby, handed him a dry twig he was holding. Zhang Shuguang was taken aback.

“This… where did you find this?” He was truly astonished by the people of the Forest Cat tribe. Finding wheat was already miraculous enough, but to discover cotton as well!

That fluffy white cotton in the flower was impossible to miss!

Mang Er reached out, plucked the white flower from the dry branch, and squeezed it. “It’s soft. This isn’t a flower, is it?”

“It’s cotton! Where did you find it? Do you have any more?” Zhang Shuguang couldn’t contain his excitement. He wasn’t worried about others seeing him; he was making it perfectly clear: I want this stuff—I really love it!

Mao Bei nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what it’s for, but it looked pretty unique, so I picked one and brought it over.”

“How many?” Zhang Shuguang stared at him wide-eyed. Seeing him scratch his head in confusion, he simply slapped his thigh and stood up. “Let’s go, let’s go—take me there!”

Mao Xin gave Mao Bei a hard slap on the shoulder from the side, then smiled at Zhang Shuguang. “No need for you to make the trip—we’ll go over there and pick all of these for you.”

Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Sounds good. Bring the seeds back too. If there are plenty, I can trade you a few extra bags of salt for them.”

Mao Xin immediately nodded. “No problem. We’ll go pick them for you right now.”

“Just bring back the white fluffy stuff—don’t bother with the dry branches,” Zhang Shuguang said, pointing to the white cotton in Mang Er’s hand. “The seeds should be tiny little ones, but I’m not exactly sure what they look like.”

Mao Xin: “Okay, got it.”

As they were about to leave, Mao Ning didn’t follow them. He hesitated for a moment, then said to Zhang Shuguang, who was beaming with excitement, “Um, if I grow that grass myself in the future, can I trade it with you for salt?”

“If all you can give me are these balls of thread, that’s fine too. Or you could figure out how to make this thread even finer—I’ll take it all, in large quantities.” Zhang Shuguang didn’t say much else, just letting him know he’d accept anything.

After all, once the tribe mastered weaving techniques, they’d still need to trade the hemp cloth made from this yarn for other goods.

“Wool comes from sheep”—that saying has held true from ancient times to the present.

Mao Ning nodded vigorously. “No problem—I’ll go back and figure it out right away!”

After they had all left, Zhang Shuguang turned to Mang Er excitedly and said, “With hemp and cotton, we won’t have to wear animal skins anymore! This is especially warm—even warmer than animal skins!”

He clutched the snow-white Hua in his hands, his eyes sparkling.

“And this! I’ve saved the wheat seeds. Once we get back, we’ll plant them, and then we’ll be able to eat wheat-based foods! I never would have thought the Forest Cat tribe was so good at finding crops!”

Mang Er chuckled softly, “I rarely see you this happy.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded cheerfully, “With all this, we’ll plant it all when we get back. Once we’ve made the necessary items before the snow season hits, our tribe will be a whole new story this winter!”

“Shuguang, I need to talk to you.” A voice from behind him interrupted Zhang Shuguang’s excitement. He turned to look and saw Hu Fei standing on the other side of the table, looking rather grim.

“What’s wrong?” Zhang Shuguang asked, puzzled.

Hu Fei sighed. “We found the kid.”