The sky was gloomy, with dark clouds drifting leisurely across it. The beastmen had finished their bone broth, yet their expressions remained the same as they had been at daybreak. The rain made it a bit chilly, and the wind caused them to shiver.

Lin Qiu was wrapped in a newly made animal-skin coat; his black hair was casually tied back with a strip of hide and draped over one shoulder. This morning’s meal was stewed bones with yam, plus a piece of grilled fish.

The beastmen who were going out to forage and hunt had already gathered; the piece of grilled fish was wrapped in a large leaf to be eaten with their porridge. Lin Qiu stood at the entrance to the cave and immediately spotted Lang Yan, whom he had seen among the beastmen before.

Lin Qiu：“?”

Lang Yan averted his gaze and set off with the hunting party. His set of animal-skin garments was finished—he must not have gone to bed early last night.

Lin Qiu watched them leave, then, wearing his tattered straw shoes, trudged across the damp grass to the tribe’s cooking area. At first, he had hastily chosen a spot by the campfire and dug a simple earthen stove there; now, Lang An and the others had never moved from that spot to cook.

On sunny days, it was fine—the flour stayed dry, though the ground was muddy.

But with the rain falling for so long, the earthen stove had become soggy. Water had pooled inside, so they had to dig a new one this morning to cook.

It was still raining, and since the clay cooking pot didn’t have a lid, it fell into the soup.

With the hunting and gathering parties gone, the beastmen left behind in the tribe began to eat.

They crouched around the edge of the clay cooking pot, their hair damp, with nothing but a single piece of hide wrapped around their waists; shivering in the howling wind and rain, they looked pitiful no matter how you looked at them—as if they’d just finished a day of illegal labor and had finally managed to scrape together a meal.

Before Lin Qiu could even get close, the beastmen heard the sound and looked up.

One by one, their eyes lit up as they reached for the hot food.

“Qiu, come quickly—we saved some for you,” said Lang An, holding out a bowl.

Lin Qiu ladled some meat soup into his bowl, glanced around, and finally silently joined the beastmen as they gathered around the clay cooking pot, blending in with them.

“The priest said the rain will keep falling, so it’s hard to get a fire going. This morning, the yams were almost undercooked,” Lang An remarked offhandedly.

The yams were simmering in the meat broth. The beastmen had eaten the other wild vegetables they’d gathered yesterday last night, and the remaining wild chives were piled on the ground—a huge heap.

They were saving them for him.

Lin Qiu sipped the hot soup, watching the clay cooking pot that had sunk slightly.

“Should we build a few more fire pits and put up a shelter over them?”  As soon as the words left his mouth, the beastmen looked up, their eyes sparkling like the glint of sunlight on a lake—almost blinding. It was as if they’d been waiting for him to say just that.

Lang An asked, “Qiu, what should we do?”

Lin Qiu: “…Ask the priest?” 

Lang An: “I’ll decide that.”

Lin Qiu: But I’m the one in charge.

He still had to go to the priest’s place this morning, and if they were building a stove and a shed, he’d feel a little more at ease keeping an eye on things. What if it collapsed?

“I’ll talk to the priest!”

Lang An was eager to help, but… it didn’t do much good.

The priest agreed, but they’d have to wait until Lin Qiu was done in the morning—they’d do it in the afternoon.

But first, Lin Qiu told them to prepare the materials: stones, chopped dry grass, and sifted yellow clay. Plus the wood, reed stalks,

or other types of dry grass would work as well.

Once Lin Qiu finished his morning work and the sky had mostly cleared up in the afternoon, they got to work.

Lang Mo’s team was studying pottery-making, while Lang Mu’s team was idle. The ground was wet, so they weren’t lying on the ground but inside the cave. They weren’t sleeping; they kept a constant watch on the cave.

Next to Lang Mu, a wolf’s paw reached over and nudged him.

“Mu, should we help out?”

Lang Mu: “They didn’t ask us to.” He looked at the ground, hesitating, afraid of being seen as a nuisance.

“Then what?”

“You.”

Several beastmen darted forward in an instant—they’d been waiting for that very phrase.

“An, do you want our help?” The beastmen dared to ask Qiu, then moved closer to Lang An. Every now and then, they stole a glance at Liin Qiu; if their tails were visible, they would surely wag them a couple of times.

Lang An: “Mix the mud. Mix the hay in with it.”

“Woof!” The wolf beastmen happily set to work.

Inside the cave, Lang Mu rested his head on his paws and watched quietly. With four squad members, plus the few sub-beastmen on Lang An’s side, there were enough hands.

With his tail hanging low, he simply climbed up Wolf Mountain to keep watch.

The spot for the hearth remained the same. Lin Qiu directed the beastmen to clear the ground, tamp it down with stones, and begin laying the stones. Using loess mixed with dry grass as mortar, they built layer by layer—one layer of loess, one layer of stones—slowly stacking them higher.

Beastmen were generally tall, so Lin Qiu modeled the hearth after the one at his grandparents’ house, building it a bit higher to make it easier for the beastmen to tend the fire.

Since the clay cooking pot was as wide as a large iron pot, the firebox was built slightly smaller. They tested the fit as they built, afraid that if it were too large, the pot would sit too low, making it difficult to stoke the fire beneath it. Several stoves were placed side by side and connected in the middle, with a tall chimney built above them—though they were concerned the smoke might end up bothering the beastmen.

They needed a large quantity of stones—ones that were the right size and as flat as possible.

Lang An had assumed the materials would be more than enough, but in the end, he still had to round up Lang Mu and a few other beastmen to help gather stones, dig up loam, and trim the stones. The hearths were built sturdy and spacious—three in a row, forming two sets with six cooking holes in total.

Once Lang Mo had fired up two more clay cooking pots, the beastmen would eat their fill after each meal.

With so many cooking holes, they were divided into two L-shaped cooking platforms. An L-shape was easier to cover with a shelter and looked better than a single long row.

Building the hearths was fairly simple; the beastmen picked it up after just a few glances. Lin Qiu was put to work, though he merely supervised to ensure the beastmen didn’t build them crooked.

The entire afternoon was filled with the clinking sounds of tools at the foot of Wolf Mountain. Lang Shi and Lang An were in charge of the masonry, while a small squad led by Lang Mu gathered materials; after a busy afternoon, they managed to complete half the work. Lin Qiu had originally planned to cook those wild chives, but he didn’t have the time.

In the evening, the hunting party and the gathering party returned.

Everyone rolled onto the ground out of habit and looked at the half-finished stove that had suddenly appeared in front of Wolf Mountain, asking, “An, what’s this for?” 

Lang An replied, “To make soup.”

The beastmen covered it with large leaves and dry grass to keep it from getting wet if it rained again. For now, Lang An, Lang Shi, and the others had to get busy preparing dinner, so they’d have to finish building the stove tomorrow.

The beastmen poked at the dry grass on the hearth; it looked like nothing more than a pile of stones and mud—nothing much to see.

The beastmen were hungry; after taking a quick look, they focused entirely on waiting for dinner.

Lin Qiu saw that Lang An and the others were continuing to make soup, and they had even deliberately avoided those baskets of wild chives—clearly, they liked to eat them. Now they were wilting.

Lin Qiu carried the wild chives to the riverbank, bringing several extra earthenware bowls with him.

The wolf-beastmen were sprawled all over the ground; as Lin Qiu walked past, they all lifted their eyelids to take a look.

“Can Qiu really eat all that?”

“Of course he can’t.”

“Then why is he washing so many…”

The beastmen covered their noses, pretending not to notice.

They weren’t going to fight with Qiu over it anyway. If Qiu likes it, let him eat as much as he wants!

Lang Yan had nothing better to do. Seeing how the beastmen were avoiding the long, flat-leaved grass, Lin Qiu crouched alone by the stream, washing his hands. Lang Yan walked over and crouched beside Lin Qiu to help.

“What do you call this?”

Lin Qiu: “Wild chives.” 

“How do you eat them?”

Lin Qiu dipped a handful of wild chives in the stream and asked him, “I just cook them as I like it—what about you?” 

Lang Yan: “I’ll give it a try.”

Now that they can at least scrape together enough to fill their bellies, the beastmen have started getting picky. Back in the day, all they had to eat was a few bites of tree bark.

“You can scramble them with eggs, mix them into pancakes with ground meat, make a cold salad, or stuff them into buns…” After rattling off all the recipes in one breath, Lin Qiu looked at the stunned Lang Yan, the corners of her lips curling slightly upward. “Too bad we don’t have enough ingredients.”

Lang Yan thought for a moment. “What about red bird eggs?” 

Lin Qiu: “Of course.”

Lang Yan: “Wait a moment.”

He walked away, exchanged a few words with Lang An, and then returned holding two red bird eggs.

“I was going to have Lang An boil them for you, but you can stir-fry them if you’d like.”

Lin Qiu paused with his hand in the stream and looked up.

The water gently brushed against his palm, causing the wild chives in his hand to sway lightly.

“For me?”

Lang Yan: “I happened to come across them—there was only one clutch.”

According to the Wolf Tribe’s rules, everything caught during a hunt belonged to the tribe and all the beastmen, but everything else was personal property. Lang Yan had found six in total; he gave four to Lang An for the cubs to eat and kept two for Lin Qiu.

Lang Yan: “Take them.”

Lin Qiu instantly let go of the wild chives and held out both hands.

His water-dampened fingers were glistening, like jade freshly washed in water; droplets trickled from between his fingers, some running down his wrist toward his forearm. Lang Yan placed the eggs in the palm of his hand. “There are plenty of red birds around these days—getting eggs is a matter of luck. These are the only two I have; the others were snatched up by them.”

Lin Qiu’s eyes sparkled with a faint, hazy glow as he looked at Lang Yan. Suddenly, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and he said, “Okay.” He rarely smiled like that—just two eggs, yet they seemed to please him immensely.

This was better than his usual cold, repressed demeanor, but Lang Yan couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life Lin Qiu had led before. Lang Yan wanted to run his fingers through Lin Qiu’s hair, but when he raised his hand, he felt water dripping from it. Just as he was about to pull his hand back, Lin Qiu crouched down and shifted a little closer to his hand.

He gazed into Lang Yan’s gray eyes, then looked away. Lang Yan gently rested his wrist on top of Lin Qiu’s head.

The touch was fleeting.

He casually hooked a wild chive drifting down from the stream with his hand and said, “Do we have to wash all of these?” 

“They’ll wilt if we don’t eat them.”

Lin Qiu turned sideways, his arm brushing against Lang Yan’s, but he didn’t move any further away. Lang Yan thought to himself. He’s still just like when he was a cub.

After washing the wild chives, Lin Qiu asked Lang Yan to help chop them into shorter pieces.

He swapped out the stone cooking pot from their previous makeshift stove for a small clay cooking pot.

Lang Mo and the others had been lying on the ground, slowly stretching their paws—their hands were sore from rolling mud strips all day. Seeing that Lin Qiu was about to cook again, they crawled over, even if they had to drag themselves.

Seeing the pile of bright green wild chives next to Lin Qiu—which smelled even more pungent after being chopped—Lang Mo sneezed twice in a row, covered his nose, and backed away a bit, though he didn’t go far.

Then, seeing Lang Yan carry a piece of meat—marbled with fat—from Lang Shi’s side, Lang Mo immediately scurried forward and guarded the little stove closely. Lin Qiu was stirring the eggs. Glancing at Lang Mo and Lang Xi, who was perched on his back, he asked, “Do you guys want some?”

“If they’re eating, I’ll make a little extra for you guys.” Though the small clay cooking pot was small, it was big enough for stir-frying. 

Lang Mo: “We’ll eat!”

Whatever Qiu makes is sure to be delicious.

Lang Yan glanced at Lang Mo, who was sprawled on the ground, his fur dirty and matted, and placed the washed meat on the stone slab. He sat cross-legged and helped slice the meat.

Lin Qiu beat the eggs, added some wild chives, sprinkled a little salt on them, and set them aside.

While waiting for Lang Yan to finish cutting the meat, he poured some of the fattier pieces into a clay cooking pot, rendered a little fat, skimmed it off, and then made some wild chive and egg pancakes. Lang Mo and Lang Xi, drawn by the aroma, slowly crouched down, watching their surroundings warily like guard dogs.

“So much to grab.”

“Just like wild scallions stir-fried with eggs,” Lang Mo said, swallowing the saliva that was flooding his mouth. 

Lang Xi had just one word: “Delicious!”

Incredibly fragrant!

It wasn’t just the aroma of the rendered fat and the fried eggs—there was also a much more intense, pungent scent of “choking grass” released by the heat of the oil.

“Pungent herbs”—beastmen collectively referred to any plant with a pungent scent by this name, further categorizing them based on their leaves and other characteristics. 

Before Lin Qiu made the wild chive and egg pancake, beastmen had always hated this type of plant. Who would’ve thought that when cooked, these pungent herbs would turn out to be so incredibly fragrant!