Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Wisps of cooking smoke curled upwards from the central cave. Today, the beastmen had all received a generous share of fresh river bounty and couldn't wait to begin cooking.

The arctic fox stood on his exclusive "cub seat," observing the bustling activity around him and occasionally offering a few words of "guidance."

"Zhong Yan, you need to pinch off the tail ends of the snails and wash them thoroughly."

"Brother, I want my river shrimp deveined!"

"Dad..." Watching Rong Shan and Feng Yan skillfully handle the cooking utensils, the arctic fox felt he had nothing to advise them. With his paws resting on the back of the chair and starry eyes fixed on his fathers, he simply waited for them to prepare delicious food.

In front of Feng Yan, a pot was already simmering with shredded chicken broth—Whitefeathered Beast meat, steamed and then torn into strips, cooked with ginger and garlic.

Meanwhile, he was washing the fresh water shield buds he had gathered earlier.

The water shield buds appeared even greener in the clear water. After draining them in a small bamboo basket, Feng Yan added the tender buds to the boiling chicken soup.

He stirred slowly with a long wooden spoon to prevent the water shield buds from tangling.

The evening breeze carried the aroma of the chicken and water shield soup to the arctic fox, but when Feng Yan covered the clay pot with a lid, the scent quickly faded. *Too bad; I didn’t get to savor that smell long enough.*

The arctic fox swished his tail in disappointment and turned his gaze toward Rong Shan.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he noticed Uncle Yuan Tu and several other beastmen heading toward the central cave. Their conversation drifted over from afar:

"Yuan Tu, what’s wrong with your back? Why do you keep scratching it?" One of the beastmen looked at Yuan Tu curiously. Ever since they woke from their rest, he had occasionally seen Yuan Tu scratching his back.

Yuan Tu: "I... I don’t know what’s wrong. I just felt a strange sensation on my back after waking up." He even dreamed he had gone bald in his sleep—what a "nightmare."

The beastman took a look at his back but found nothing unusual. "There’s nothing wrong. It’s probably all in your head. Try to forget about it."

"Really? I hope so..."

...

The arctic fox, remembering something, subtly stuck out his tongue and watched Uncle Yuan Tu leave, silently thinking: *Sorry, Uncle Yuan Tu. Tao Tu’s a good rabbit and definitely didn’t mean to "steal" your fur, ahem.*

The arctic fox turned his attention back to his dad.

Rong Shan was preparing the snails that Zhong Yan had cleaned. The snails had already been blanched in boiling water. Rong Shan was stir-frying shredded ginger, sliced garlic, and chili in a clay wok, then he added the snails.

But that wasn’t all. The arctic fox saw Rong Shan take a jar of fermented sauce and add several spoonfuls directly into the wok. The pot immediately sizzled loudly as Rong Shan began "stir-frying" at high heat.

Sauce-blasted snails! This was the true application of the fermented sauce recently discovered by the arctic fox family—only by "sauce-frying" it with other ingredients could the full flavor of the sauce be unleashed!

The arctic fox couldn’t wait to see the expressions on the Browneared Leopard Beastmen’s faces when they tasted this new sauce-based dish.

"Smells so good..." Bing Qiu caught the savory aroma coming from his dad’s side and had already swallowed his saliva several times.

Zhong Yan and Bing Qiu were collaborating on a dish called "fire-roasted snails," placing marinated snails on an extremely thin stone slab and roasting them over charcoal.

The tribe had recently popularized dishes like "stone slab taro" and "eight-treasure goose," prompting the beastmen to request thinner and more durable stone slabs from the elders’ workshop. The elders complied without a second thought!

The marinade contained only a little salt and pepper besides ginger slices and scallions, preserving the original flavor of the snails as much as possible.

They’d already oiled the stone slab. Zhong Yan and Bing Qiu arranged the snails one by one on the slab. When the shells began to crackle, they used bamboo tongs to flip them over.

Zhong Yan was responsible for transferring the cooked snails to a clay pot.

The flames in the pit reflected the last rays of the setting sun. Just as the arctic fox’s stomach was rumbling with hunger, all the dishes were finally ready.

Garlicky river shrimp, clam meat stir-fried with chives, sauce-blasted snails... all dishes that made one’s mouth water.

While everyone was noisily slurping snails, the arctic fox enjoyed snail meat picked out with a bamboo skewer by his dad, along with peeled shrimp and sliced clam meat.

The snail meat was firm and flavorful, bursting with savory goodness with a light suck. The arctic fox ended up with sauce all over his mouth but didn’t care.

The clam meat was slightly springy and, paired with the fresh scent of chives, tasted delicious. It was a pity that the tribe had no rice to eat before the harvest—otherwise, with such appetizing dishes tonight, he would definitely have devoured several bowls.

The arctic fox ended up with a "messy little face," and Rong Shan couldn’t help but laugh.

"Delicious, really delicious." Bing Qiu ate one snail after another, slurping away—he was the loudest. If he weren’t afraid of being scolded by Feng Yan, he might have even licked his fingers.

"Good boy, try the soup." Feng Yan served a small bowl of soup and placed it in front of the arctic fox.

The arctic fox took a sip, and the water shield buds slid smoothly into his mouth. They had a unique texture—smooth and tender—and paired perfectly with the light, fresh chicken soup.

"It’s delicious!"

Hearing the arctic fox’s praise, Feng Yan also drank his soup with satisfaction.

Zhong Yan kept an eye on Little Dumpling while eating. As soon as he saw Little Dumpling was almost finished, he proactively helped peel shrimp without Rong Shan having to intervene.

The arctic fox told Zhong Yan to focus on his own meal, but Zhong Yan didn’t listen. Xue Tuan let him be.

Night fell quietly. The cooking smoke in front of the central cave gradually dissipated, and only a few embers remained in the fire pit, flickering in the night breeze.

The beastmen of the Mountain Water Tribe, with round, full bellies, were too lazy to move, their eyes filled with contentment.

"Ah—I’m so stuffed." Bing Qiu slumped over the table, a dab of sauce at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t even dare to press his stomach—he had eaten far too much.

"Get up and move around; you won’t feel so full then." Feng Yan gathered the clay dishes, ready to wash them.

Zhong Yan took a piece of animal hide cloth to help wipe the table.

Seeing Zhong Yan working, Bing Qiu immediately sprang up and tried to take the bowls and chopsticks from Rong Shan: "Let me do it, Dad."

Feng Yan shook his head and smiled at Bing Qiu, his eyes saying: *That’s more like it.*

Rong Shan then picked up his well-behaved little one and, treating the arctic fox like a "decoration," began moving his limbs to make the lazy little one "exercise."

"Are Yuan Tu and the others setting off tonight?" Rong Shan asked Feng Yan.

Feng Yan: "Yes, to rendezvous with the rest." They had brought back quite a lot of supplies this time.

"Counting the days, they might meet up with A Li and the others, right?" Rong Shan placed the arctic fox on his knee and gently smoothed the little one’s fur.

Feng Yan: "Guang Sha has already taken people to meet the Brown-eared Leopard Tribe. It would be good if they can return together."

Guang Sha, the green-backed tiger beastman, led a team to find the migrating brown-eared leopard beastmen.

The arctic fox blinked slowly, thinking about Da Er, Xiao Er, and the many fluffy brown-eared leopard cubs who would soon arrive. He looked forward to that day.

With more and more beastmen joining, the tribe was growing stronger.

The satisfied beastmen gradually returned to their caves. Zhong Yan and Bing Qiu, the two capable assistants, finished the cleanup work, ending their fulfilling and beautiful day.

***

A few days later, only the arctic fox and Zhong Yan remained in the arctic fox family's cave, as they hadn’t gone anywhere else today.

Zhong Yan held a small knife, processing the feathers of a "Fat Goose Beast."

Xue Tuan couldn’t find suitable "long stiff feathers" in his collection of "Grey Feather Jars," so Zhong Yan had to gather a few primary feathers from the tribe’s domesticated "Fat Goose Beasts."

These primary feathers also needed to be treated with limewater to remove grease. Now, Zhong Yan was sharpening and thinning the feather roots, though his eyes occasionally drifted toward the arctic fox beside him.

Little Dumpling currently had a brush tied to his paw, using a "tying technique" Zhong Yan learned from Elder Grandpa, ensuring Little Dumpling wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

However, adapting to a tied brush wasn’t the hard part for the arctic fox—the real challenge was:

"The brush is too hard to control!" the arctic fox grumbled, baring his teeth in frustration. Looking at the "chicken scratch" he’d made with soot ink, he felt like crying—it felt like such a waste of the paper Uncle Yun Lu and the others had made.

But the arctic fox hadn’t given up. If it was something he wanted to do, he’d keep trying even through tears. Who knew when he might regain his human form? Mastering writing in his Beast Form was one of the few things within his control.

"Zhong Yan, help me wash off the ink. I’ll practice with plain water for now," the arctic fox said to Zhong Yan.

Back when he used charcoal sticks, he’d started to get the hang of it. Now, it seemed he’d overestimated his control in Beast Form.

"Alright, don’t rush. Take your time," Zhong Yan said as he untied the brush from the arctic fox’s paw. The little fox immediately slumped over the table, motionless and utterly dejected.

After cleaning the brush, Zhong Yan glanced at the feathers on the table. "How about trying a quill? I’ve almost finished making it." With just a bit more burning at the tip, it should be ready to dip in walnut ink.

The arctic fox turned his head. "That might work… but first, bring over some scraps of old hide." He wanted to test it on hides first.

Thus, the re-energized arctic fox had a quill tied to his paw. Compared to the brush, the quill was indeed easier to control—perhaps it would do for now.

Others might not understand why the arctic fox was "experimenting" with so many tools, but Zhong Yan knew why Little Dumpling was so persistent with the brush.

He remembered Little Dumpling saying that, compared to charcoal sticks and their crude walnut ink, soot ink left the most lasting marks.

So the quill was just a backup for the arctic fox—he’d only use it as a last resort.

Watching Little Dumpling struggle through practice, Zhong Yan wished he could practice for him…

Zhong Yan looked at the "fox-fur brush" in his hand and suddenly said, "Tuan Tuan, how about I copy what you draw?"

The quill in the arctic fox’s paw scraped a long line across the hide.

He looked up at Zhong Yan in surprise.

Zhong Yan said nervously, "See, you can use any tool to draw, and I’ll try to copy it with the brush…"

"It’s really hard to learn…" the arctic fox said, a glimmer of light rising in his eyes, testing the waters.

Zhong Yan gradually regained his composure. "I’ll work hard to learn!" Since his Beast Form days, he’d been learning to control his strength and use various tools. The human form was a lot more convenient than Beast Form!

"Alright!" the arctic fox exclaimed excitedly. He had to admit—during this uncertain period of not knowing when he’d regain human form, having someone help record what he wanted to preserve was the best possible solution!

Xue Tuan quickly began teaching Zhong Yan the proper way to hold the brush, then had him start practicing. Zhong Yan didn’t need to make it look beautiful—just keep the strokes "neat and straight"!

As Zhong Yan practiced, the arctic fox no longer had to continue "practicing writing." It didn’t matter if his writing was messy because Zhong Yan could correct it while copying.

The arctic fox could finally start writing what he wanted to record. He fetched another new hide—quills worked better on hides anyway, so he’d save the paper for Zhong Yan’s copies.

The cave was filled only with the scratching of brushes and quills. Neither of them spoke further, fully focused on their tasks.

After some time, noise suddenly erupted outside the cave. Then, both Xue Tuan and Zhong Yan, simultaneously and clearly, heard the shouts of the Howler Monkey Beastmen:

"The Brown-eared Leopard Beastmen are here!"

***

Author's Note: Thank you, dear readers, for your support. [Heart]

The various methods described in this story are a blend of reality and imagination. Enjoy it for fun, but be cautious about overthinking it—please don’t try them out. [Heart]