While the Earth-Dwelling Beastmen were eating, Zhang Shuguang took a moment to observe them. Counting both young and old, there were twenty-three in total: two female beastmen, three young ones, four elderly men, and the rest were all young beastmen.

Zhang Shuguang furrowed his brow slightly, glancing at the two female beastmen who were clearly no longer young, then at the young chieftain who called himself Jia Shan. Why did they seem so mismatched?

While he kept his observations subtle, Guo, standing nearby, had no such reservations and blurted out, “Why are there so few of you?”

A tribe that had migrated all the way from the sandy plains shouldn’t, in theory, number just a handful of people—they must have run into some kind of trouble.

Zhang Shuguang looked up and saw the Earth-Dwelling Tribe’s beastmen all stop eating at once.

The three cubs, who had already mastered shapeshifting into human form, were skinny as sticks—it was obvious they hadn’t eaten their fill along the way. They’d been stuffing meat into their mouths with gusto, but the moment Guo’s question came out, they not only stopped eating but their eyes also welled up with tears.

Guo belatedly realized he’d probably asked the wrong question.

Flustered, he turned to look at Zhang Shuguang, his face clearly asking, “What should I do? Should I apologize?”

Zhang Shuguang gave him a slight nod, and Guo quickly said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t stop eating—go ahead, eat up. I won’t ask anymore.”

The three kids sniffled and suddenly began to sob.

Guo panicked even more and reached out to grab a piece of cured sausage from nearby. “Here, have some. Don’t cry, don’t cry!”

His face was all scrunched up, and he looked as if he were about to cry too.

“That’s raw!” Li shot him a speechless sideways glance.

But as soon as he said that, he saw the three kids grab the sausage and take a bite each, eating it with relish.

“Uh…?”

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly, poked a piece of steamed sausage into his mouth, and chewed, chewed, chewed.

“We used to eat raw meat too, before Shuguang arrived,” Yun said, patting Li on the shoulder. “How long has it been that you’ve already forgotten?”

Li chuckled, “I haven’t eaten raw meat in ages. If you asked me to eat it now, I definitely wouldn’t. Do you eat it?”

“No way. I only eat cooked meat now.” Yun shook his head, and Lin followed suit.

Jiao and Fang didn’t have time to pay any attention to them; they turned around, fetched some steamed sausage, and handed it out to the three kids. “Eat this, not that.”

Jia Shan sighed and slowed down his eating.

The elders of the tribe looked at the small bowls in their hands, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the meat, their hands trembling with excitement.

“We encountered a swarm of earthworms in the sandy plains, followed by an earthquake. Many of our people died. Then we ran into terror birds along the way. Our people sacrificed themselves—some died, others were injured—so we could escape first. We had almost nothing to eat on the journey, and the wounded eventually died. We took shelter in a cave, but we couldn’t hide forever, so we made our way to the forest.” After Jia Shan finished speaking, he sighed again. “We actually brought quite a few stones with us when we left, but we’ve lost them all along the way.”

Zhang Shuguang pressed his hand to his forehead, thinking to himself that this had truly been a series of twists and turns—it was sheer luck that any of them had survived to make it here.

He smiled kindly and offered words of comfort: “The place where we want you to settle has a wonderful environment. Since there are still so many of you left, you can have more children in the future. Don’t be sad—if their spirits are watching from above, they’ll be very comforted to know you’re safe now.”

“The chieftain said the same thing back then—as long as we still have people left, it doesn’t matter if they’re dead,” Jia Shan said, wiping his face. Though he said this, the look on his face remained deeply saddened.

For a moment, none of the other beastmen of the Earth-Dwelling Tribe felt like eating meat anymore.

Zhang Shuguang said nothing more and got up to look for Mang Jiu.

“Send them back first; don’t keep them here.” He saw Mang Jiu sorting the wheat, separating the yellow grains from the green ones, and said, “The yellow ones can be sun-dried and soaked to sprout for planting. The green ones won’t grow, but they should taste pretty good.” He remembered his grandmother making green wheat kernels for him when he was a child; they tasted sweet.

“Can you eat them?” Mang Jiu picked up a small ear of wheat, shook it off, and was about to pop it straight into his mouth.

Zhang Shuguang quickly reached out to stop him, laughing, “You can’t just eat them like that. Look, they’re still in their husks—you have to prepare them a bit first.”

He tapped the wheat kernels with his finger, and a burst of white liquid spurted out.

“It’s pretty full. Let’s sort through it together—we’ll boil the green ones first.” Zhang Shuguang picked up a rock and sat down next to Mang Jiu, and the two of them began sorting through the bag of wheat together.

As they sorted, Zhang Shuguang casually mentioned what Jia Shan had just said: “Have you ever encountered this Earth-Dwelling Tribe before? They faced earthworms and terror birds, and this is all that’s left of them.”

“To have this many survivors after facing earthworms and terror birds is already impressive—it must have been a large tribe.” Mang Jiu’s voice was flat, betraying no emotion whatsoever; in his eyes, the members of the Earth-Dwelling Tribe seemed no more interesting than the wheat in his hands.

Zhang Shuguang sighed. “I just feel kind of sorry for them.”

“Haven’t you noticed that your emotions seem a bit off lately?” Mang Jiu placed the two different colors of wheat ears he’d sorted into separate sections of the basket, then lifted his eyelids to look at Zhang Shuguang. “Ever since you saved those people from the tribe last time, you’ve been feeling uneasy whenever you hear about others getting hurt or dying.”

Zhang Shuguang froze, looking at him in surprise. “Huh?”

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t noticed yet?”

Zhang Shuguang furrowed his brow slightly, reflecting on his recent state of mind, then slowly widened his eyes. “It seems you’re right. What’s going on?”

“You worked very quickly when you performed the bloodletting last time, and you’re probably doing the same this time,” Mang Jiu brushed the crushed grass chaff off his hands and asked, “How should we handle these? Should we boil them along with the grass husks?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head, set the bamboo basket filled with yellow wheat aside, and went to fetch the bamboo winnowing basket. He took an ear of green wheat in his hand and began rubbing it; the kernels fell onto the winnowing basket with a crackling sound. “First, rub off the husks like this, then rub the kernels to sift out the chaff and debris. That’s how you get these individual green wheat kernels.”

He pinched a plump, greenish-yellow wheat kernel between his fingertips and popped it into Mang Jiu’s mouth. “Try it—it’s sweet.”

Mang Jiu chewed it for a moment and nodded slightly. “It’s not particularly sweet, but it tastes pretty good.”

Zhang Shuguang chewed a kernel himself, and then the two of them began rubbing the wheat ears.

Mang Jiu had large hands and worked quickly. Zhang Shuguang had specifically told him to be gentle and not use too much force, so as not to crush the wheat kernels.

“That day I cut into my own flesh; I really didn’t expect I’d be able to wield the knife so deftly. And I had only one thought in my mind: I had to save them; I couldn’t let them die.” He gently rubbed the wheat ears with both hands, his voice low. “Later, when I saw they weren’t going to die, my mind—which had been completely focused on cutting my flesh and letting the blood flow—finally returned to normal.”

He took two more ears of wheat in his hands and rubbed them, letting out a breath. “Seeing that kid in that state, all I could think about was that I had to save him—no matter what. To be honest, it wasn’t until I saw you that I finally calmed down.”

“Ask your main system what’s going on,” said Mang Jiu, his expression turning cold. Even though Zhang Shuguang had repeatedly assured him he wouldn’t let his blood flow, if there really were some unknown factors at play, it wasn’t impossible that he might do it again to save someone next time.

Saving lives was one thing, but harming himself to save someone of no consequence—or a complete stranger—was truly unnecessary.

Zhang Shuguang gave a soft “Mm-hmm.” “I’ll ask.”

“Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Have Xiao Tong come out. I have something very important to ask it. If it doesn’t come out, tell it I’m about to die.”

Xiao Cai: “Okay, Master. Please wait a moment.”

About ten seconds later, a sizzling sound of electricity rang out, followed by the main system’s more mature electronic voice.

Main System: “Young Master, what’s the matter now?” The way it used the word “now” was particularly vivid, brimming with exasperation.

Zhang Shuguang couldn’t resist taking a dig: “As if I want to bother you! If you’d just explain things clearly to me, I wouldn’t have to keep dragging this out like squeezing toothpaste.”

Main System: “Young Master, what would you like to ask?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Has my mood been affected?”

Main System: “You haven’t been affected—this is just your natural personality.”

Zhang Shuguang: “I’m not! At first, I was even wary of Xiao Cai, but now I can even cut into my own flesh and bleed in front of others. My personality has changed way too much! Tell me the truth—is it because you started interacting with me that I’ve been influenced by you?”

Main System: “…And you’re blaming me for this? I’m just an energy-deficient system.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Cut the crap. If you’re a system, then I’m a piece of dough. Just tell me what’s going on. What do you mean I’ve always been this way? Don’t I know my own personality better than anyone?”

The Main System retorted, “Then do you know what kind of personality you had before modern society?”

Zhang Shuguang: “……” I don’t know—I have no memory of it, so how would I know!

Main System: “You’ve always had this personality—you can’t stand seeing anyone get hurt. As a child, you saved all kinds of animals and plants, and later, you saved all kinds of beastmen. In your second life in the tribe, every time you saw an injured beastman, you’d sneak around and let them drink your blood—especially that Aila. He drank a lot of your blood! I suspect he started getting injured from time to time later on precisely because he realized how special your blood was!”

Zhang Shuguang was stunned. So that’s who he really was… a saint.

“What about the third life? Was I still in the Wanshan Tribe?”

Main System: “No. In your third life, you were with another marginal tribe. They were very few in number—the entire tribe seemed to consist of only a dozen or so people. My energy was insufficient back then, so I had to accumulate energy through prolonged hibernation. As a result, the moment I woke up, I saw you being knocked off a cliff by a terror bird while trying to save a sub-beastman from the tribe.”

Zhang Shuguang: “So I didn’t die trying to save Aila after all.”

Main System: “Of course not. Do you think I’d put you in the same predicament twice? As you later found out, the spacetime turbulence caused my energy to become unstable, and you were reincarnated into modern society. If you hadn’t suddenly been pulled back by the spacetime turbulence, I actually didn’t want to reveal myself to you—your life in modern society felt more real.”

Zhang Shuguang: “What do you mean?”

Main System: “I’ve never quite understood this. God said your personality had flaws, but all I’ve seen is you constantly sacrificing yourself for others. If that’s what He meant by ‘flaws,’ then you weren’t so… Holy Father—doesn’t that mean your personality has been perfected? But now that you’re back here, things were fine at first. Ever since you activated your theological abilities last time, though, you’ve seemed obsessed with saving people by letting your blood flow.”

Zhang Shuguang pressed his hand to his forehead; Mang Jiu turned to look at him.

“I might have been influenced by the atmosphere here.”

Mang Jiu: “?” What? I didn’t get that.

Zhang Shuguang shook his head slightly: “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Xiao Tong, do you think there’s any hope of fixing this quirk of mine?” He certainly didn’t want to end up drawing blood every time he saw an injured beastman—by then, he’d surely be fought over by all sides.

Main System: “There’s nothing I can do. You’ve had this personality for three lifetimes. If I could help you, I would’ve sent you back to Earth long ago.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed, “Then what am I supposed to do!”

Main System: “That’s why I told you to bring the earthworms along. It’s rare to find something that can replace your flesh and blood. With it, at least you’ll get a reminder—you won’t have to keep bleeding yourself dry and cutting into your own flesh.”

Zhang Shuguang: “You’re right, absolutely right,” he said, then changed the subject and asked, “Can the Divine Blood Tree be stored in the warehouse?”

Main System: “Yes, but if you want it to grow, it needs photosynthesis—sunlight, watering, and fertilizer.”

Zhang Shuguang: “No problem. I can take it out to get some sun every now and then. With a weird tree like that standing there, it’s bound to attract a crowd sooner or later. It’s better to store it away. I’ll put it away when I get back this time.”

Main System: “If you try feeding the leaves of the Divine Blood Tree to the earthworms, you should get a very good return.”

Zhang Shuguang: “What kind of rewards?”

Main System: “I don’t know—that’s why I’m asking you to try it.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Oh, let’s talk about that later. What if I feed those two half-eaten worms and they grow back to their original size? I’d be in tears.”

Main System: “Okay, little master. Is there anything else? If not, may I go back to hibernation?”

Zhang Shuguang: “Oh, bye.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, can I make a small request?”

Zhang Shuguang: “What request? Do you want me to spend points on something again? I don’t think I have any points left!”

Xiao Cai: “No, Master. What I mean is, next time you talk to the Main System, could you please not mute me? I’d like to listen in on your conversation too.”

Zhang Shuguang: “As a ‘Vegetable’ app, too much curiosity will get you formatted. Be a good girl and go back to hibernation.”

Xiao Cai: “……” My life is in danger—I’m outta here!

Zhang Shuguang tilted his head and leaned directly against Mang Jiu’s shoulder. “Bringing the earthworms over was the right call.”

“Did you put it in the warehouse?” Mang Jiu rubbed off the last bit of green wheat ear, then began rubbing the wheat husks. “Ying Liu is pretty fast.”

“They were put there yesterday. Between the Sea Eagle Clan and the Earth-Dwelling Clan, I’d completely forgotten about it. If the Main System hadn’t mentioned it just now, I really wouldn’t have remembered that the earthworms had already been put in there.” Zhang Shuguang rubbed his face with his hand and said, “It said that in my previous three lifetimes, I had a tendency to bleed out anyone I saw who was injured to save them, and I only gradually changed that after going to Earth.” he spread his hands. “But coming back here might have influenced me a bit again.”

Mang Jiu furrowed his brow slightly. “Can’t we think of a solution?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head, at a loss for words: “There’s no way. But since the earthworms are stored in the warehouse now, at least I have a substitute to use. As long as it’s not a life-threatening emergency, I probably won’t feel the urge to draw blood… right?”

As he spoke, he grew less certain and finally let out a frustrated howl, “This is such a hassle! What am I supposed to do?!”

Zhang Shuguang, feeling a headache coming on, pressed his forehead against his shoulder and rubbed it vigorously.

Mang Jiu reached up and ruffled his hair, then patted his head. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a solution eventually. For now, just use the earthworms.”

“There’s one more thing,” Zhang Shuguang said, straightening up. “The main system just mentioned that Aila once drank a lot of my blood. You said he can absorb other people’s life force—could it be because my blood mutated inside him?”

Mang Jiu looked at him but said nothing.

Zhang Shuguang furrowed his brow deeply and turned to glance at the barren rocky mountain.

“Do you think he’s currently absorbing other people’s life force and converting it into his own energy while helping the Golden Lion Clan stockpile food?”

“Your blood can save lives; he’s draining others’ vitality—it’s not the same. His current situation definitely has nothing to do with you.” Mang Jiu pulled him close and kissed him twice on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t speculate. If you want to find out, why not just ask him directly?”

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips and said stiffly, “We don’t even know where he is right now. If he’s not in the Rock Mountains, it’d be a waste of time to go looking for him. Let’s just wait and see—we’ll run into him eventually. Besides, I don’t have anything right now, and your condition isn’t stable either. If we really do run into him, who knows what could happen?” He reached out and wrapped his arms around Mang Jiu’s neck. “I can’t put you in danger. Let’s wait a little longer—until I remember a few more things.”

Mang Jiu chuckled softly, squeezing his neck gently. “Fine, do whatever you want.”

Zhang Shuguang grunted softly, resting his head on Mang Jiu’s chest to calm himself, then sat up straight. “Come on, keep massaging. I just told you I want to send the Earth-Dwelling Clan back first—what do you think?”

“Alright, let Mang Er make the trip.”

“Second Brother will take them himself? Let Eighth Brother come along too—they’re both long enough to carry quite a few people.” Expecting the Earth-Dwelling Clan’s beastmen to keep up with the giant serpents’ speed was a joke; they’d have to ride them in human form, which was actually faster.

Mang Jiu thought for a moment, then nodded. “Have them take the sub-beastmen back too.”

“Taking the sub-beastmen back means we’ll need a few more people. Here’s what we’ll do: leave Xi Shiyi and Xi Shier behind, and let the rest go back. Have them take the items we’ve already traded for, and we’ll trade for some other things later to bring back then.” Zhang Shuguang took stock of the items they’d traded for—there didn’t seem to be all that much. He scratched his head and asked, “Why not trade for more honey and fruit wine?”

“Didn’t you send them to catch those little beasts? Keep the back baskets for carrying the little beasts—don’t trade them away. Trade for salt instead, and have them carry everything back later.” Mang Jiu glanced at the Meimei beasts in the other pen and asked, “Did you get so many Meimei beasts just to shear their fur?”

“Yeah, both this fur and that hemp can be used to make clothes. Before I left, I asked Sister Hua to help me spin some yarn. Once we get back, I’ll try making a loom—you’ll have to help me then.”

Zhang Shuguang grinned at Mang Jiu, leaned in, and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “We’ll also need to make paper. The people in our tribe are busy farming right now, but if the Earth Dwelling Clan really does find coal mines once they get there, we’ll be able to fire real pottery.”

“Aren’t the ones we have now real?” Mang Jiu thought the pottery they were currently firing was just fine.

“No, they’re not good enough. They don’t seal well, so a lot of things don’t keep for very long. We’ll have to find a place to dig a big kiln cave, seal it off from the inside, and fire the pottery at a constant temperature,” Zhang Shuguang rambled on. When he looked up, he saw Mang Jiu staring at him with a helpless expression. He chuckled. “I won’t say any more. You’ll understand once we fire a batch.”

Mang Jiu nodded and gestured for him to look at the wheat grains he’d already rubbed clean. “How do we sift them?”

“I’ll do it. I used to help my grandma sift them.” Zhang Shuguang stood up, glanced at the green wheat kernels and chaff in the winnowing basket, poured out half of it, and began sifting the rest.

As he shook, blew, and sifted, the fine husks and straw debris fell onto the leather mat, quickly forming a layer.

“We’ll sweep these up later and feed them to the chickens—they’ll definitely love them.”

Mang Jiu nodded. Seeing that Zhang Shuguang was working up a sweat, he held out his hand and said, “Give it to me—I’ll take over.”

Zhang Shuguang handed him the winnowing basket and exhaled, “Keep a steady rhythm when you shake it—otherwise you’ll shake the wheat kernels out. And don’t shake it too hard.”

“Like this?” Mang Jiu mimicked Zhang Shuguang’s earlier movements. He was a bit stiff at first, but after a few shakes, he got the hang of it.

Zhang Shuguang stood nearby, puffing out his cheeks and blowing hard. The two worked in tandem, and by the time his cheeks were sore from blowing, they had finally sifted out all the chaff and debris.

“That’s quite a lot—enough to make a big potful.” He looked at the green wheat kernels in the winnowing basket, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Let’s try simmering a small pot with some potatoes first to see how it tastes. If it’s good, I’ll come back later to get some more to take home.”

“Sure.” Mang Jiu nodded, poured the green wheat kernels into a dry earthenware jar, and closed the lid. “These won’t keep for too long, will they?”

“Hmm, I’ll make some tonight to try. If it’s good, we’ll eat it all by tomorrow morning.” Zhang Shuguang raised his hand and rubbed his cheek. “Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair to send the sub-beastmen back after they’ve only been here a few days?”

“It’s good enough that they came out at all,” Mang Jiu said, glancing at him. “There’s an unsafe person here; if they stay without supervision, there’ll be trouble.”

Zhang Shuguang understood his concerns and nodded. “I’ll mention it to them at dinner. Guo will probably cry. The Black Bear Clan hasn’t decided yet whether to relocate.”

“They’ll relocate,” Mang Jiu said as he bent down, picked up the hide spread on the ground with both hands, and dumped the straw chaff onto the fence. A flock of clucking chickens, drawn by the scent of wheat straw, flapped their wings and ran over, pecking away. “After the Golden Lion Clan and the Golden Tiger Clan split up, all these small tribes living in this area will likely choose to relocate—either by merging with another clan or moving elsewhere.”

“If Aila really starts helping the Golden Lion Clan mass-produce crops, he’ll need more life force,” Zhang Shuguang exhaled. “Why would he do that?”

“How do you know he can accelerate plant growth?” Mang Jiu suddenly asked.

Zhang Shuguang froze for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“Right, who did I hear that from?” He raised a hand to scratch his head, his gaze darting around, then—oh—he spotted the red berries the Golden Lion Clan had laid out on the ground from a distance. He tugged at Mang Jiu. “I remember now! When I saw those berries, I immediately thought Aila had made them. I didn’t have a single doubt—I just knew it was him.”

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow. “And then? Why did you think it was him?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t suspect anyone else. Logically, I know he can absorb life force, but I’ve never actually heard anyone say he can make plants grow.” Zhang Shuguang looked completely bewildered. He furrowed his brow and thought for a while before suddenly asking, “Do you think there’s some kind of weird thing living in my head?”

Mang Jiu raised his hand and gave him a light tap on the forehead. “What nonsense are you talking about! Isn’t there just a Xiao Cai in your head?”

“That’s not what I meant. I might have known Aila before. Otherwise, why would he drink my blood and still drain me dry?” Zhang Shuguang frowned as he pondered, his mind filled with conspiracy theories. “He knows me, but I don’t know him. He knows things about me, but I don’t know anything about him. Yet I might have some kind of special feeling toward him.”

Mang Jiu raised both hands to cup his face. “Shh, shh, shh. Quiet, quiet.”

Zhang Shuguang shut his mouth and looked at him, his eyes asking, “?”

“Don’t worry about how I found out. The point is, now that you know he’s helping the Golden Lion Clan accelerate plant growth—which requires a massive amount of life force—do you think the other small tribes living around here are still safe?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head. “No, they’re not safe.”

“They might not know about Aila, but they’re not stupid. The Black Bear Clan might have hesitated before, but now if you go tell them, the whole clan will definitely follow you.” Mang Jiu snorted lightly and pinched his cheek. “Don’t worry about the others—they’re all sharper than you.”

Zhang Shuguang glared at him but couldn’t help sighing. “Fine, they’re all more cunning than me.”

“Should I go tell the Black Bear Clan?”

“No need. They’ll know on their own that our people are leaving and will come looking for us.” Mang Jiu took his hand and led him to the hammock, tilting his chin upward. “Get in there and sleep. You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

“It’s hard to sleep alone.” Zhang Shuguang turned his face toward him and smiled. “I slept okay. Do you want to take a nap with me?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got things to do. You go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you up later.” Mang Jiu bent down, picked him up, and set him in the hammock. “Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control.”

Zhang Shuguang grabbed his wrist and stared intently at his face. “Don’t go looking for Aila.”

“Mm-hmm, I know.” Mang Jiu ran his hand gently over Zhang Shuguang’s face. “Go to sleep. I’ll go talk to Mang Er about the escort.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Zhang Shuguang was satisfied and let go of his wrist. “Go on, go on. Have them tie the cuckoo chicken’s wings together with vines. Keep the Meimei Beast here—we’ll figure out a way to bring it back later.”

“Alright, you go to sleep.” Mang Jiu gave his head a gentle rub and only turned to leave after seeing that he’d closed his eyes.

Zhang Shuguang thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he drifted off into a daze and soon fell into a deep sleep.

Mang Jiu went to find Mang Er, who was currently at the stall, haggling with the people from the Golden Lion Clan.

Though it was called a haggle, it was really just the other side bragging one-sidedly—boasting about how fresh and sweet their fruit was, and claiming they had other usable produce besides the fruit.

Mang Er kept his eyelids drooping the whole time, looking lazy and half-asleep.

The visitor was an elder of the Golden Lion Clan—a middle-aged beastman—who ground his teeth in frustration at Mang Er’s dismissive attitude.

“We want to trade a bag of fruit for a bag of salt. If you’re okay with that, we’ll make the trade; if not, we can discuss it further,” Shi Ming said.

Mang Er waved his hand. “No deal.”

Shi Ming: “Two bags of fruit.”

Mang Er: “No deal.”

Shi Ming gritted his teeth, the muscles in his face tensing slightly. “Three bags—that’s the absolute limit!”

Mang Er finally looked up at him and asked with a half-smile, “Let’s set aside whether the fruit tastes good or not for a moment. Just how long would your one bag of fruit last? Our one bag of salt can guarantee that all 200 members of your clan have eight meals a day for over thirty sunrises and sunsets. Can your fruit do that?”

Shi Ming was at a loss for words.

No, not only could they not—three bags of fruit wouldn’t last two hundred people through thirty sunrises and sunsets; they’d be lucky to last seven.

But he couldn’t back down right away, so he countered, “The honey and fruit juice you’re offering won’t last that long either.”

“That’s what Shuguang traded for. It wouldn’t matter if he traded a whole bag of salt for a single hair,” Mang Er chuckled lightly. “Not with me. If you want to trade for salt, fine—but show some sincerity.”

Shi Ming took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and asked, “Then how much do you want in exchange?”

“Ten bags of apples for one bag of salt. If you want to trade, bring the goods; if not, forget it.” After saying this, Mang Er resumed his half-asleep, half-awake demeanor.

Shi Ming almost burst out cursing; his voice rose involuntarily as he roared, “It’s not like we have to trade with you for salt!”

Mang Er went, “Oh,” and added, “Have a nice day.”

Shi Ming turned and stormed off in a huff, while Mang Er slumped face-down on the table. “It’s so hot. I’m so sleepy.”

“Mang Er,” Mang Jiu walked over and stood behind him, calling out in a flat tone.

Still sprawled on the table, Mang Er yawned and grumbled, “Shuguang calls me ‘Second Brother’ every day—why don’t you call me ‘Brother’?”

“Bro, you and your men should head back first tomorrow,” Mang Jiu said as he sat down beside him, immediately changing his tone.

Mang Er paused for a moment, sat up, and looked at him. “Go back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Shuguang said to send them back first.” Mang Jiu glanced at the Earth-Dwelling Tribe gathered not far away. “Tell the chief to have them go to the hunting grounds to mine coalstone.”

Mang Er nodded. Before he could speak, he heard Mang Jiu add, “Take the sub-beastmen back too, but leave Xi Shiyi and Xi Shier behind.”

“Everyone’s going back?” Mang Er was nearly fully awake now. “We’ve only been out a few days—the sub-beastmen probably won’t want to go back.”

Mang Jiu waved his hand dismissively and said coldly, “Whether they like it or not, they’re going back. Tell them at dinner tonight.”

“Did something happen?” Mang Er might seem lazy, but he was quick on the uptake. Suddenly bringing the sub-beastmen back seemed highly unusual.

“Just to be safe. Don’t trade for the Golden Lion Clan’s fruit. Take the remaining salt to trade with the Black Bear Group and the Monkey Clan. Take the cuckoo chickens back with you, but leave the Meimei Beasts here.” Reflecting on Zhang Shuguang’s words, Mang Jiu turned to look at the huge pile of cuckoo chickens. “Tie them up with vines and stuff them into the baskets—just make sure they don’t suffocate.”

Mang Er looked at him speechlessly. “Don’t worry about it. I know how to take them back.”

He said he knew, but his method wasn’t much better than what Mang Jiu had suggested.

Mang Jiu stayed at the table to watch the stall. Gradually, no one came over to trade anything.

“Mang Jiu, why don’t you go check if there’s anything worth trading at the other stalls?” Li, who had just woken up, rubbed his eyes as he walked over. Seeing Mang Jiu sitting there, he couldn’t help but say so.

Mang Jiu nodded, stood up, and headed straight for the Black Bear Clan’s stall.

As soon as he left, the beastmen who had been sneaking glances from the sidelines quickly gathered around and began a new round of trading.

Xiong Ri sat in front of the stall, using a stone to chip away at a wooden barrel. A shadow blocked the light, so he looked up and saw Mang Jiu standing right in front of him.

“Wasn’t Shuguang supposed to come for the exchange today?”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping.” Mang Jiu’s eyes swept over the stone vat, and he pointed at it as he asked, “We’ll take whatever hasn’t been traded yet. How much salt do you want?”

Xiong Ri was taken aback. “All of it? Haven’t we already made the exchange?”

“Tomorrow we’ll have them take people back to the tribe. If you plan to follow them afterward, you can store your salt here with us for now. If you don’t follow, we’ll exchange it with you.”

Mang Jiu actually didn’t much like interacting with strangers, but at that moment, no one knew Zhang Shuguang’s plans better than he did, so he had no choice but to come over himself. “When do your people plan to leave?”

Xiong Ri looked at him, thought for a moment, and asked, “If we go back to bring the tribe’s people, we might not be able to leave until later. Will you wait for us?”

“Shuguang and I aren’t leaving. If you plan to relocate the tribe, we’ll go back with you,” Mang Jiu explained patiently. “Are you sure you’re leaving?”

“Mm,” Xiong Ri sighed, glancing at the Golden Lion Clan members. “It seems something’s happened to them. We were originally planning to trade all the honey before leaving. Do you all want it? If so, you can have it all.”

“Yes. Should you take the salt back, or should we have them bring it back to our tribe?”

“You guys take it back,” Xiong Ri said, his face full of resignation. “I really didn’t expect that we wouldn’t trade much at this gathering, and now we’re relocating the tribe.”

“Maybe life will be better in a new place.” Mang Jiu nodded and turned to the Monkey Clan nearby. “Let’s trade for some juice.”

Hou Shi nodded. “How much do you want to trade?”

“As much as you have. You should head back as soon as possible—it’s not safe around here,” Mang Jiu offered a rare word of caution.

Hou Shi understood what he meant and replied, “We’ll trade everything we have to you—five bags of salt.”

“Alright. If you need to trade anything in the future, just come straight to our tribe. Cross the Dongchuan River, go through the Black Forest, and you’ll find a large rocky mountain by the coast.” Mang Jiu raised his hand and spread his fingers in the direction of Li, then pointed at the salt bags.

Li nodded and had Xi Shiyi and Xi Shier deliver the salt.

“Don’t let this sit around too long. It’s best to keep it in a cool, shaded spot. You’ll need to finish it before the rainy season starts, or the taste will change.” Hou Shi watched as they carried the stone jars away and gave them this careful reminder.

Mang Jiu thanked him and followed Xi Shiyi and Xi Shier back to their stall.

When Zhang Shuguang woke up, he saw the items piled together and rubbed his eyes in surprise. “Did you replace everything?”

“No, I saved a bag of salt for you.” Mang Jiu walked over and lifted him down; Zhang Shuguang raised his hand and playfully slapped him.

“Didn’t you trade for seeds with the Forest Cat Clan?”

“They’re out of seeds. They said they’re keeping what’s left to plant themselves, and once the crops are ready, they’ll come back to the tribe to trade with us.” Mang Jiu smoothed out his tousled hair. “Are you hungry?”

“Eat, then sleep; wake up, then eat again—I’m putting on some weight,” Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “We traded for quite a few things. Will they be able to carry it all back?”

“Sure. The giant beasts can carry quite a bit of stuff—don’t worry about that. Just keep what you need, and let them take the rest back.” Mang Jiu couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Zhang Shuguang’s habit of worrying about everything. “The Black Bear Clan is leaving tomorrow, too. They need to go to their tribal lands to pick up their people, so we’ll just tag along with them.”

“Follow them? What about the Meimei Beasts?” Zhang Shuguang was taken aback. Hadn’t they agreed to take the Meimei Beasts with them?

“Let them take them back.” Mang Jiu pointed, and a dozen or so Meimei Beasts were tied together—not with vines looped around their necks, but with vines binding all four of their hooves.

Zhang Shuguang：“……”

“What about the chickens? The chickens…” He saw the flock of chickens dumped onto the logs, and the corner of his mouth twitched violently.

Whose idea was this? It’s like stealing bamboo shoots!