Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Time flew by swiftly amidst the bustle, much like the fish that darted past the shores of Mirror Lake.

It was already late summer, and the wildflowers that had blanketed the hillsides were finally blooming themselves out, withering in the final cycle of their lives, concentrating all their essence into the bare flower centers that bore a variety of seeds.

Some seeds fell to the ground, where small animals carried them away to store or eat, while others drifted lightly with the wind, landing on some rocky crag or fertile soil, settling down to await the warmth of next spring, when they would once again burst forth into a splendid bloom.

Though the flowers had fallen, that box of busy bumblebees in Bian Hong's hive never ceased their work.

They still flew about diligently, buzzing as they hunted for wildflowers that had not yet withered with the autumn breeze—sometimes a few September chrysanthemums, sometimes a patch of jasmine.

Only when no more could be found nearby, and their somewhat bulky bodies couldn't fly overly far, did they finally halt their journey, gathering back into their hive together, watching over the fruits of spring and summer.

The hive was redolent with the fragrance of honey. Thanks to Bian Hong's well-chosen location, this year's bumblebees not only didn't need extra feeding in winter as he'd feared, but actually produced a surplus—enough for the whole family to enjoy the fragrant honey.

After flying a loop around the room, the bumblebee settled back on Bian Hong's shoulder, waiting while he stirred up a bowl of brown sugar water. He carried it outside and set it at the edge of the hive. Every sip they took, Bian Hong didn't take for free—in this season of falling flowers, he decided to let the colony taste human brown sugar.

The bees first tentatively extended their antennae, then tasted a sweetness completely different from nectar, and only then swarmed forward, jostling and crowding as they sipped. Taking advantage of the moment, Bian Hong smiled, wiped his hands, and went inside to mix honey into the flour.

He steamed a pot of sweet, fluffy mantou buns. The moment the lid was lifted, steam billowed out, carrying the fragrance of grain mingled with honey. Bian Hong picked out a small basketful and set them on the windowsill to cool, then covered them properly—these were meant to be sent for Yuan Ding and Guan Bao to eat.

The two kids were hardly ever home these days. Since they'd moved off their original hilltop, they were now even farther from the school, so they had to stay temporarily in the town near the academy.

Luckily, Auntie Min from the Min family had gone along to look after them, and with her there, the kids were doing pretty well. Bian Hong would send food over now and then—besides the big mantou buns, there was also some cured meat.

The cured meat had picked up a bit of a heavy flavor, covered in dust and blackened from the smoking, but that was exactly when it tasted the best. After washing it clean and steaming it, slicing it thin—the fat translucent—it was perfect with the big mantou buns. Nothing could beat it.

But there were only a few pieces left, so yesterday Bian Hong and Rong Feng went into the mountains and hunted a wild boar. They cleaned it in the clear waters of Mirror Lake, butchered it, salted it, and waited for the wood fire to smoke out a unique flavor.

However, the new home didn't have a smoking shed built. Luckily, Rong Feng volunteered, going to the village brick kiln to haul back a bunch of broken bricks. He mixed the mud himself, set up the wooden beams, and built the little smoking shed all on his own.

The beams had no other decoration—they were just for hanging meat. The fire pit below was built solid too. He'd already stacked fruitwood and some fragrant leaves, just waiting to light the fire and start smoking.

Even though it was late summer and early autumn, this spot by the lake was still a bit warmer and muggier than the mountaintop. But there was no one else around—looking out, there was only the calm lake and the layered mountain ridges.

Rong Feng simply went shirtless, letting sweat bead on his honey-toned chest and shoulders, the orange-red glow of the setting sun making him look even more robust and imposing.

Rong Feng called out from outside, and Bian Hong quickly set down what he was doing, hurrying into the newly built smoking shed to help the man hang the salted pork strips one by one from the rafters. The rafters weren't all that high, but Bian Hong still couldn't reach them.

Rong Feng glanced at him, let out a soft chuckle, then turned and scooped Bian Hong up in the crook of his arm. Without missing a beat, he used his free left hand to lift the meat and hang it on the beam.

Thanks to Rong Feng's height, Bian Hong was able to hang the meat he was holding. Before long, the basin was empty, and the thick wooden rafters were full of meat. Standing on the ground, Bian Hong looked at the impressive sight and couldn't help but sigh.

This was a scene he'd often dreamed of on cold nights during the famine flight—looking up to find endless meat and grain.

Finally, Bian Hong lit the fire in the shallow fire pit. With the flames blazing, he piled on some damp fruitwood and fragrant leaves. Under the smoke infused with the scent of fruit and herbs, the meat and fat would develop a richer, more savory flavor.

Bian Hong also figured that this smoking shed could store cured meat in summer and autumn, and double as a freezer during the bitter cold of winter.

Just as he was making his plans, smoke carrying the smell of meat wafted out of the shed, and little by little, small animals started poking their heads out from the forest.

They just raised their heads to sniff, then sneezed after a moment, and scattered, not all that interested.

This season, the mountains were abundant with food. Whether herbivore or carnivore, the beasts were all strong and healthy, having built up a layer of fat to survive the winter. With food so easily within reach, they had no interest in the smoking shed.

Most wild beasts preferred raw meat—they needed it to supply the vitamins and superior nutrition their bodies required. And being instinctively afraid of fire, they disliked the smell of smoke even more. Even meat that carried a smoky scent wouldn't be touched unless they were starving.

Mirror Lake's location was quite close to the wolf pack. While patrolling his territory, the wolf king caught the scent of smoked meat with his keen nose and sneezed in displeasure. At first, he thought something was on fire, so he followed the smoke trail until he came upon Bian Hong and Rong Feng sitting outside the house, sampling the not-yet-smoked cured meat.

The flavor of unsmoked meat differed from aged cured meat. Bian Hong rather enjoyed slicing this slightly seasoned meat thin and stir-frying it with greens, served alongside freshly cooked rice. The two of them would sit at the small wooden table set up outside, chatting as they ate.

The little monkey would sit to one side, nibbling on a wild apple Bian Hong had picked for him, while the bear cub crouched under the table, poking just its big muzzle out, nudging Bian Hong between his sentences to make its presence known—reminding him not to forget there was such a "figure" beneath the table.

But in Bian Hong's eyes, the bear cub's antics were entirely unnecessary. It didn't even need to nudge—it had grown so fat that a mere twist of its rump made the table tremble.

Still, looking at the muzzle resting on his thigh from under the table, Bian Hong couldn't help but pick up a piece of meat and stuff it into the wide-open bear mouth waiting for it.

Silver Frost, pacing near the stable, couldn't stand the bear cub's pathetic display. With a single disdainful glance, she flicked her mane and lowered her head to graze elegantly.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of ripe fruit from the mountains. The water shimmered, and in the distance, Mirror Lake reflected the setting sun across its surface.

During this peaceful lunch, Rong Feng had just placed a piece of meat into Bian Hong's bowl when his hand suddenly paused. He rose to his feet, gazing far off toward the forest.

Bian Hong, thinking something was wrong, quickly stood up too, focusing on the direction Rong Feng was looking. There, they saw several wolves, each carrying a wild boar in their jaws, cautiously padding out from the edge of the deep forest.

The boar wasn't large, dragged along the ground by the powerful wolves' grip on its spine as they made their way toward the house. It must have been freshly killed—the blood hadn't yet congealed, dripping in a trail behind them.

Something unusual was afoot, so the two quickly set down their bowls and chopsticks and hurried over to meet them.

As they drew near, Bian Hong recognized the wolves as the strong ones from the wolf king's side in the forest.

At first, Bian Hong thought the pack might be in some kind of trouble, and he was about to grab his clothes and weapons to go help. But to his surprise, the wolves simply set the boar down in front of their door, then circled the area to inspect.

They paid particular attention to the smoking shed, circling it again and again, blinking rapidly from the smoke. But they saw no flames—after all, the door was shut.

Only smoke carrying the scent of meat seeped out through the cracks. After a brief assessment, the wolves concluded there was no real danger—the fire wouldn't spread to the forest.

They figured that perhaps these two humans were short on food, unable to get good meat, forced to eat things that had gone off from smoking.

With that thought, they decided the wolf king's decision was truly wise—if not for them bringing these two some food, wouldn't they starve?

So before Bian Hong and Rong Feng could even greet them, the wolves puffed out their chests, held their heads high, and withdrew from around the yard, satisfied. Their lithe bodies bounded off and soon vanished back into the deep forest.

Leaving Bian Hong and Rong Feng standing there, looking at the freshly killed boar placed at their doorstep, at once amused and exasperated.

In the end, Bian Hong had no choice but to accept the boar as a gift from the wolf pack. While the daylight still held, he and Rong Feng together cleaned and dressed the boar, rubbed it with salt, and hung it in the smoking shed. They added more fuel to the fire, and soon more smoke curled up from the little structure.

The wolf pack hadn't actually gone far. The wolf king stood atop a high rocky outcrop, tilting his head in confusion as he watched Bian Hong and Rong Feng bustling about below.

The fresh boar he had just ordered delivered had been taken by those two into that smoke-filled room. The wolf king stared for a long while, unable to comprehend.

Then, from behind the wolf king, a beautiful and elegant she-wolf stepped forward—his mate.

The she-wolf understood that humans were different from their pack. She gently nibbled the wolf king's ear with her long muzzle, trying to tell him that humans were inseparable from fire wherever they went—whether resting or eating, they were never far from that smoky little flame.

Born that way, unlike wolves.

Only then did the wolf king withdraw his gaze, turning with his pack to head back toward their den. Before leaving, he cast one more glance back, thinking that if he ever had the chance, he too would come down the mountain to taste what that fire-smoked raw meat was actually like.

And so, news that Bian Hong and Rong Feng had established their "den" by Mirror Lake spread like the wind, from the outside in, deep into the mountains. Many animals would come in pairs or groups, never leaving the treeline, only peering from afar before turning back.

Most animals were recording the location of the Mountain Guard's new residence.

So even Bian Hong grew accustomed to the occasional sight of small animals appearing at the forest's edge.

They stood or crouched on branches, in various poses, but their gazes always pointed in the same direction. Sometimes Bian Hong would stand on the small stone platform before the yard and wave at the animals watching him.

And he decided that after the autumn harvest, when he had free time, he would go into the mountains again—before winter, together with Rong Feng, to leave new footprints of the two of them in Miemeng Mountain.

Just too busy at the moment to find the time, so he could only occasionally lift his head at home and receive the curious gazes of these small animals that had come from afar.

One morning, the mist over the lake had not yet fully dissipated, and in the glow of dawn, together with the cabin by the lakeside, it all took on a dreamlike, misty glow.

Bian Hong inside the house still wasn't up—after all, that bathwater in the kitchen hadn't even cooled off yet...

Ever since Yuan Ding and Guan Bao had gone to stay temporarily at the school in town, Rong Feng had completely cut loose.

Every night before bed, he'd make a point of boiling a pot of bathwater, and after Bian Hong lay down, he'd squint his eyes, undress with a grin, and pounce on him, laughing.

Bian Hong could hardly take it anymore; even though he'd filled out a bit, he couldn't handle this kind of nightly nonsense, so lately he'd been sleeping in every morning, and today was no different.

He'd also gotten used to sleeping on Rong Feng, waking up every day with his face pressed against Rong Feng's chest.

This morning, half-awake, he thought he heard someone knocking at the door. Rong Feng, afraid of waking him, quickly whispered, "Go back to sleep," then threw on some clothes and went to answer the door.

In the early morning, a crisp breeze carrying the sharp, dewy scent of the outdoors slipped through the crack in the door. Bian Hong sniffed the air, but the kang was too hard compared to Rong Feng's warm, soft body, and he couldn't sleep anymore. He had to wrap the quilt around himself, sit up, and crane his neck to look toward the door.

Who the heck would be knocking at this hour?

If villagers came to find them, it would usually be in the afternoon, since it was a long walk over. But to arrive at the door in the morning meant traveling through the night—something no one in their right mind would dare. The mountains were full of beasts, and without Rong Feng leading the way, even traveling in daylight was nerve-wracking, let alone in pitch-black darkness.

So when the door opened, Bian Hong's guess was confirmed—it wasn't a person at all, but an old monkey with a gleaming coat of fur.

Bian Hong and Rong Feng had been making a stir around Mirror Lake for quite a while, and word had finally gotten back to the Old Monkey King. Compared to their old small hilltop, the troop's territory was now closer to Bian Hong's place.

Though Mirror Lake held some bad memories for the troop, mountains stand eternal, the lake flows quietly, and nature's calm washes away all worry and fear.

So the Old Monkey King came back to the area, and standing casually at Bian Hong's door, it mimicked human manners and raised a hand to knock.

The Old Monkey King hadn't come empty-handed—it carried a thick branch loaded with lush, juicy peaches, ripe, plump, and glossy, giving off a rich fragrance. It had brought gifts to visit an old friend—and also to check on that little monkey grandchild it had left in the humans' care.

At first, the little monkey preferred sleeping in Bian Hong's arms, but after a few nights, Rong Feng would scoop it up with his big hand and plop it onto the fat belly of the bear next door. The little monkey kept at it, standing at Bian Hong's door and scratching, letting out squeaky little cries, while Rong Feng, with tireless patience, kept hauling it back to the other room.

After this tug-of-war between man and monkey, the little monkey finally gave up and settled down on the bear's plump belly. So when the old monkey came knocking, the little one had no idea—the bear's belly was warm, soft, and practically soundproof, and it was sleeping too deeply to hear a thing.

It wasn't until the little monkey felt a familiar touch in its sleep and groggily opened its big eyes that it saw the old patriarch of the troop squatting nearby, reaching out to stroke its head.

With a squeak, the little monkey shot up from the bear's belly and immediately threw itself into the Old Monkey King's arms.

The old and young held each other, swaying gently—a real heartwarming sight.

The bear cub had been woken up a while ago by the noise, but it recognized the Old Monkey King, so it didn't attack or get defensive—just lazily rolled over, butt in the air, scratched its belly, and went back to sleep.

After breakfast, a plate of blushing peaches was set on the table—each one big, thin-skinned, fragrant, glossy, and perfectly round. Bian Hong thought they looked carved from jade, so he couldn't help but eat two.

Then he fixed up some dishes and rice and took them to the next room, wanting to ask if the Old Monkey King could handle human food. But when he opened the door, he found only the bear cub snoring away and the little monkey perched on its belly, blinking sleepily.

The Old Monkey King had already slipped away at some point. Seeing the little monkey so well taken care of, it was satisfied and didn't stick around to be a bother. After all, the mountains and the human world were separated by distance—one could come down for a brief stay, but not for long, an unspoken rule among animals.

The little monkey, though, was thrilled. It hopped over, perched on Bian Hong's shoulder, reached out to tidy his hair, then nuzzled against him. Now it could not only stay by Bian Hong and Rong Feng's side every day but also see the monkey troop now and then—and that made it very happy.

So Bian Hong, holding the dishes, rubbed his cheek against the little monkey in return. Then, thinking of the Old Monkey King's silent departure, he gave a helpless smile. But as he turned to leave, a paw grabbed at his clothes from behind.

The bear cub's sharp nose had done its work—once the food came into its room, there was no getting it back out.

So the dishes meant for the Old Monkey King all ended up in the bear cub's belly. After licking its chops clean, it patted its full belly, went to the lake for a drink, and then ambled off into the mountains to play.

The bear cub was different from Silver Frost. Silver Frost was used to resting and living in human tiled houses; even after running around the lawn, it would return to the stable that had been built for it, either lying down or standing to rest, or getting Bian Hong to ride it around for a spin.

The bear cub preferred to run wild everywhere; it didn't like staying in one place too long. Sometimes it would leave after breakfast, play all day, and only come back after dark, when the lamp was blown out for the night.

Often, the little bib Bian Hong had sewn for it would end up lost somewhere, but the next day, the bear cub would always track down the tattered bib and hang it back around its neck.

Then it would deliberately dangle that scrap of cloth in front of Bian Hong, showing off that it hadn't lost it—the food bib was still properly worn.

Running wild was an animal's nature, and seeing the bear cub so carefree made Bian Hong quite happy, even if he had to patch up that little bib from time to time, or scrub it clean when the little one came back covered in mud.

But the bear cub had also gotten smarter—before coming home, it would plop into Mirror Lake, give itself a rinse, and then open the door. That way, Bian Hong would pat its head and praise it for being clean today, a good hygienic bear.

Until one day, when the bear cub opened the door, Bian Hong's vision truly went dark, and he was left speechless.

The little one hadn't come back alone—it had brought friends.

Behind it followed not only a roe deer but also a smaller bear cub. The roe deer was no problem; Bian Hong could even cut some grass to feed it and play the host.

But that smaller bear cub—Bian Hong found it truly troublesome.

At that size, it usually hadn't left its mother's side yet; in the wild, it would still be living with the mother bear. Now that it had been lured back, who knew how frantically its mother was searching outside.

If a misunderstanding arose, and the mother thought he and Rong Feng had stolen her child, wouldn't that be a fine mess...

So Bian Hong reached out and gave his own cub a knock on the head. The bear cub's head rang with a dull thud, but it was thick-skinned and tough—those taps were like a tickle to it. For it, only Rong Feng's discipline truly hurt enough to leave a lasting lesson.

Seeing the situation was bad, Bian Hong quickly turned and called for Rong Feng, who was boiling water—stop boiling water, all you think about is the business in your pants, get out here now, and we'd better return the child to its mother under cover of night.

Rong Feng took one look at the scene, rolled up his sleeves, and headed for the bear cub. The cub just huddled by Bian Hong, looking pitiful and helpless, tugging at Bian Hong's sleeve, making it hard to strike.

But playing pitiful worked on Bian Hong, not on Rong Feng in the slightest.

So the bear cub, properly tanned by the man, finally settled down and learned its lesson: don't casually kidnap other people's children.

And just as the family was preparing to mend the fence after the sheep was lost—planning to take torches into the mountains that night with the bear cub to find the mother—the moment they opened the front door, Bian Hong's heart tightened, and he thought, damn, we've been cornered at the door.

In the darkness, a massive mother bear stood right before them, radiating sheer fury.

Bian Hong choked.

Small world—it was a familiar face after all.