Chapter 38

A-Yin paused in his grooming, sneaking a glance at his brother.

Zhuo Yan: …

But before long, A-Yin resumed licking his paws. Zhuo Yan thought he caught a hint of loneliness in A-Yin’s expression. He quickly realized that while he could brush off Shi Tou’s misunderstanding with a laugh—after all, it was impossible for A-Yin to transform into a human—A-Yin’s struggle with not being able to become human must weigh heavily on him.

So, Zhuo Yan reached out and gently scratched behind A-Yin’s ears, steering clear of that sensitive topic. “Let me check your wounds.”

Under the warm glow of the kiln’s fire and the twinkling stars, A-Yin’s paw powder was licked away. The wound that had looked raw and painful the night before was now dry and scabbed over. His paw pad had taken on a slight pink hue.

Zhuo Yan lightly touched it, and A-Yin’s paw trembled.

“Does it hurt?”

A-Yin shook his head vigorously, his ears flopping like a drum, indicating it didn’t hurt. In fact, Zhuo Yan’s touch was a little ticklish, sending delightful tingles through his paw.

“Let me see your split nail.” Zhuo Yan held A-Yin’s paw, revealing the pink pad and a thin scab covering the area where the nail had come off. It would heal well without needing any ointment.

“All done! Nothing serious. Just try not to use this paw too much in the next few days.” When Zhuo Yan released him, he couldn’t help but give A-Yin’s paw another gentle squeeze.

A-Yin’s furry ears perked up as he looked at his brother and let out a soft awoo, understanding the message.

Shi Tou was tending to the fire, glancing at Zhuo Yan with a puzzled expression. Why did Zhuo Yan enjoy touching the paws of beastmen so much? He had squeezed A-Yin’s paws several times. Then Shi Tou recalled how his father liked to bite his mother’s neck during mating, and his mother enjoyed nibbling on his father’s ears.

It must be a similar instinct.

Unbeknownst to Zhuo Yan, his actions of checking A-Yin’s wounds were already being interpreted by Shi Tou as some sort of mating ritual. At that moment, Zhuo Yan clapped his hands and walked over to switch places with Shi Tou.

Shi Tou laid out a mat on the other side of the furnace, covering it with hides.

“You’ll wake me up later,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” Zhuo Yan replied.

In their tribe, it was customary for everyone to sleep early and rise with the sun unless beastmen were out hunting at night. After a long day of work, Shi Tou was already exhausted and promptly fell asleep. The night air was a bit chilly, but Zhuo Yan remained comfortable by the furnace, adding charcoal and fanning the flames.

Then, A-Yin hopped over on his three legs to sit beside his brother.

Zhuo Yan: … How adorable and amusing!

So he ignored A-Yin, who wasn’t tired and kept him company as they continued firing the kiln.

After a while, the monotony of watching the kiln could wear anyone down, so Zhuo Yan chattered away to A-Yin about what they would eat tomorrow, reminding him to be careful while hunting. “Even if you get hurt, it’s okay. Just come back and tell me—I’ll help you treat your wounds.”

He knew that in this world, it was almost impossible for beastmen to go hunting without getting injured.

A-Yin let out a series of awoo sounds, fully attentive to his brother’s words.

Zhuo Yan lost track of time; everything felt elongated. He stopped talking when fatigue began to weigh on him, but just as he started to doze off, A-Yin barked, snapping him back to reality. He quickly checked the kiln; the fire was still roaring, thanks to A-Yin’s timely warning.

After what felt like ages, Shi Tou awoke and took over the shift.

Zhuo Yan exchanged places with Shi Tou. “I have no idea how long it’s been.”

“That’s easy. Just ask A-Yin,” Shi Tou yawned as he settled down to stoke the fire.

“Will A-Yin know?” Zhuo Yan asked, intrigued. “How can we tell?”

Shi Tou replied, “I’m not sure how to read it. Beastmen often look at the stars and the moon when they go hunting. Experienced hunters can even tell if it’s going to rain the next day just by the scent in the air.” He added, “The clan leader can do that.”

A-Yin let out a sound of affirmation. Zhuo Yan scratched A-Yin’s ears. “Let’s keep an eye on the time together.”

After some time passed, Zhuo Yan took his turn again, while Shi Tou, having napped, was wide awake. He lay on the mat and gazed at the stars. “Zhuo Yan, what do you think the gods look like?”

“I have no idea.” Zhuo Yan had once been an atheist. But after he fell ill with an incurable disease, his family began lighting incense and praying, hoping he would survive.

At that time, he had followed along with their beliefs, not out of faith, but to honor his family’s wishes.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t survived. Yet now, in this new world, he was alive.

Shi Tou nodded; he hadn’t seen the gods either. Zhuo Yan felt Shi Tou was quiet, but when he spoke, his words struck deep and often carried their own weight. Curiosity got the better of Zhuo Yan, and he casually asked, “Shi Tou, what kind of life do you want to lead in the future?”

“I want my own cave, but I don’t want to mate with any beastmen in the tribe.” Shi Tou looked at Zhuo Yan. “Just thinking about mating with them makes me uncomfortable.”

Zhuo Yan raised an eyebrow. “Do you prefer sub-beastmen?”

Surprisingly, Shi Tou’s eyes widened, and even A-Yin perked up, slowly reaching out to poke at Zhuo Yan’s feet. Shi Tou looked confused and said, “Sub-beastmen can’t survive with just other sub-beastmen.”

“Oh, I misunderstood,” Zhuo Yan said, realizing how shallow his understanding was. He needed to accept that his friend was asexual—someone who simply didn’t have romantic inclinations.

Little did he know, Shi Tou chimed in, “The beastmen in our tribe are all dirty and never bathe. Now that everyone has partners, those who don’t are basically like cubs—just annoying!”

Zhuo Yan: Misunderstanding again!

Shi Tou wasn’t asexual; rather, there were simply too few eligible beastmen in the tribe, making it difficult for him to find someone he liked.

“Earlier, a beastman asked me if I wanted to bear his offspring.”

Zhuo Yan: !!!

This gossip was unexpected!

“He was so annoying, saying I was strong and sturdy enough to have strong cubs. Of course, I knew that, but I don’t like him! Plus, he used to live with another sub-beastman and treated that sub-beastman horribly,” Shi Tou fumed.

Zhuo Yan said, “That’s a scummy beastman.”

“Scummy beastman? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not a good one—always chasing after this sub-beastman one moment, flirting with you the next. He’s not the kind of beastman who lives a decent life,” Zhuo Yan explained.

Shi Tou nodded eagerly. “You’re right, Zhuo Yan.”

Zhuo Yan concluded, “You prefer clean, composed beastmen, not ones that are immature like cubs.”

“There aren’t any in the tribe,” Shi Tou said, resting his chin on his hand. “Honestly, it’d be better if there were no cubs at all.”

Zhuo Yan: … Is Shi Tou still part of the sterile group?

“My sister is so annoying! Cubs are only cute when they’re first born; otherwise, they’re just a hassle.” After saying that, Shi Tou quickly added, “But don’t worry! If you have cubs, I definitely won’t find them bothersome.”

Zhuo Yan: I appreciate that.

The two of them continued their light-hearted banter as the fire in the furnace crackled robustly. Suddenly, A-Yin let out an awoo, prompting Zhuo Yan to look up at the starry sky—though he couldn’t decipher its secrets.

They exchanged glances, puzzled.

“Zhuo Yan, I don’t get it. Did you figure it out?”

“I actually just heard about it. It depends on the material and temperature. Some things need seven or eight hours, while others need twenty.” Zhuo Yan had never done this himself, relying solely on theoretical knowledge, unlike with charcoal, which he had hands-on experience with.

Shi Tou looked at Zhuo Yan. “Don’t worry; if we mess it up, we’ve got plenty of yellow mud. There’s mud everywhere, and we have all the time in the world. Just take it slow.”

Zhuo Yan felt warmth in his heart. Shi Tou usually didn’t say much, but he understood Zhuo Yan’s concerns. Zhuo Yan was a bit worried that this batch wouldn’t turn out well, especially after his friends had worked so hard for several days.

“Then let’s just slowly lower the charcoal fire,” Zhuo Yan decided.

If the heat was maintained for too long, it could crack.

Shi Tou followed Zhuo Yan’s instructions, stopping the fan. The two of them sat patiently by the furnace, waiting until the flames dwindled. Once they had simmered down, Zhuo Yan opened the kiln, and Shi Tou and A-Yin rushed over. Zhuo Yan looked inside and felt a surge of joy.

Could it be… a success?

At least nothing had cracked. The items still looked the same.

However, it was too dark, and the interior was still quite hot. After ventilating for a while, Zhuo Yan lit a twig and held it up. Shi Tou reached out to grab it, but Zhuo Yan insisted on using a hide as a cushion. Shi Tou replied that it wasn’t too hot.

One by one, they pulled the items out and placed them on the mat.

This batch included all the “small items”—large bowls, deep plates, and water jugs. Since the kiln was spacious enough, they had managed to create twenty pieces, all neatly laid out.

Zhuo Yan and Shi Tou looked at the mat, both hesitant to move.

After a considerable time, Shi Tou stammered, “Zhuo Yan, this… this is really clay!”

“Could it be… it worked?!” Zhuo Yan was also taken aback; he hadn’t expected their first attempt to be such a success.

He planted a torch in the ground and picked up a water jug. Its spout was pointed, the opening small, with smooth curves leading to a rounded belly and a handle. Although it felt slightly awkward to hold, the shape was pretty good, even if the details were lacking.

Yet now, Zhuo Yan felt this was the most beautiful water jug in the world.

“I’m going to fetch some water.”

“Awoo!” A-Yin wanted to follow his brother to the riverbank.

Shi Tou chimed in eagerly, “I’ll go with you!”

The three of them reached the riverbank. Zhuo Yan carefully dipped the jug’s spout into the water, filling it halfway, lifting it cautiously as if it might crumble under pressure.

Shi Tou leaned in, wide-eyed. “Zhuo Yan, the clay really holds water!”

Zhuo Yan rubbed the jug against the hide he was wearing, exhilarated. “Let’s see if it leaks.”

“Okay.”

Once he wiped the jug dry, Zhuo Yan held it up, inspecting it closely. It didn’t seem to leak. Noticing Shi Tou’s intense gaze on the jug, he extended his arm. “Shi Tou, you hold it and see.”

“Me? I’m afraid I’ll break it! My grip is too strong.” Shi Tou hesitated, not wanting to take it.

Zhuo Yan chuckled, “After making so many, it’s yours to hold! You can’t just not use it.”

At that moment, Shi Tou felt unprecedented nervousness and excitement. He was more careful than when he had held his newborn sister, cradling the jug with both hands, worried he might squeeze too hard and shatter it, yet too lightly to let it slip away.

Shi Tou gazed at the jug crafted from clay, amazed. It was his first time seeing something like this; it was genuinely made of clay, fired for so long, and it could really hold water.

“Zhuo Yan, what’s it called again?” he asked.

“Ceramic.”

Shi Tou’s mouth dropped open as he repeated the word “ceramic” before suddenly looking at Zhuo Yan with wide eyes. “Zhuo Yan, you’re so clever!”

He remembered what Zhuo Yan had mentioned before, but he had never imagined that the fired creation would turn out like this.

On their way back, Shi Tou was too anxious to hold it, so Zhuo Yan carried it. The two of them, along with A-Yin, quietly admired the other ceramic pieces laid out on the mat. In that moment, they felt an immense sense of joy, invigorated by their hard work from the night, with no hint of sleepiness.

“I don’t want to go back,” Shi Tou squatted beside the mat, his gaze intensely focused on the ceramics. “Zhuo Yan, what do you think their reaction will be when they come in the morning and see all these ceramics?”

Zhuo Yan’s eyes crinkled with delight. “They’ll definitely be overjoyed and silly!” He felt the excitement bubbling within him.

“Hahaha! Let’s wait for them and watch their silly expressions!” Shi Tou chimed in with glee.

“Agreed!” Zhuo Yan replied, both of them eagerly anticipating the morning light. However, just as dawn began to break, they heard the familiar voice of Aman Xiao Xian calling, “Brother Zhuo Yan—” followed by a curious, “Do you think it’s ready?” “I don’t know! I didn’t sleep at all last night. If I had known, I would’ve stayed up with Shi Tou!”

“Hey, wait up, you two!” Qiao’s voice chimed from behind.

Zhuo Yan exchanged glances with Shi Tou, who mischievously suggested, “Let’s stay quiet and see how they react when they arrive.”

“Sounds good!” Zhuo Yan agreed, amused by how much Shi Tou’s mischievousness reminded him of his little sister, Da Yun.

Before long, the trio drew closer. Xiao Xian wondered aloud, “Are they still asleep?”

“Maybe,” Qiao replied.

As they turned a corner, the sight before them left them stunned. On one side of the furnace pit sat Shi Tou, Zhuo Yan, and the silver leopard, A-Yin, while on the other side—

“!!!”

“What is that?!”

“Wow! That’s from me and Sister Qiao!” Xiao Xian instantly recognized it.

Qiao stood frozen in shock, while Xiao Xian took a couple of eager steps closer. The three of them dared not touch the items on the mat, their eyes wide with curiosity. Xiao Xian quickly identified the items he had crafted, noting with embarrassment that one didn’t turn out well—though Zhuo Yan reassured him it was still usable.

“Brother Zhuo Yan!” Xiao Xian turned around, his fluffy ears peeking out with excitement. “Is it really done? Did it really get fired?”

Seeing the looks on the trio’s faces, Shi Tou thought to himself, how lucky he was that no one witnessed his own stuttering and silly demeanor from the previous night. Watching his friends now was just too entertaining!

“Yes! I tested one of the water jugs, and it doesn’t leak,” Zhuo Yan confirmed. Seeing the group still hesitant, he encouraged, “You can give it a try—go fill it with water from the river!”

“Really? Can we?” Aman stammered, unsure of how to hold it.

Noticing Aman’s uncertainty, Shi Tou recalled his own hesitation from last night and, drawing from Zhuo Yan’s words, encouraged, “You’ll need to use it later anyway, so it’s fine to try it out.”

Aman looked puzzled, “Shi Tou, you’re starting to sound a lot like Zhuo Yan!”

“Hahaha! That’s what Zhuo Yan told me. I was scared to touch them last night, too!”

Laughter erupted among the friends.

As the first rays of morning sunlight illuminated the riverbank, the water shimmered like it was tinted with orange. The four anthropomorphic beastmen and the silver leopard carefully cradled a variety of jars, bowls, and water jugs by the riverbank.

None of them leaked.

While their appearances differed, each vessel proved to be highly functional. The pottery, fired at high temperatures, showcased an ancient brown hue and emitted a crisp sound when tapped. Zhuo Yan’s actions drew a mix of awe and trepidation on the faces of the onlookers.

“It might not be as sturdy as stone or wood, but it’s certainly not as fragile as paper,” Zhuo Yan remarked, considering it suitable for everyday use.

The others were so engrossed they forgot to ask what paper was.

They had made twenty pieces, four for each person: two large bowls, a deep dish, and a large water jug.

With spirits high, Zhuo Yan pondered whether he could cook rice or boil water over an open flame. He set up the charcoal fire, filling one of the large bowls with water and placing it on the heat.

Everyone gathered around, more relaxed this time, drawing on their previous experience of tapping the pots.

As the fire grew stronger, the water in the bowl boiled furiously. Zhuo Yan’s heart soared as Aman exclaimed, “This is great! Next time we can cook in a stone pot!”

“It’s not a stone pot; it’s a clay pot,” Xiao Xian corrected him.

“I’m just too excited! I misspoke,” Aman replied sheepishly.

As they chatted, other beastmen arrived at the riverbank to wash up. One of them, noticing the commotion, called out from a distance, “Zhuo Yan, what are you all doing over there?”

Several beastmen’s eyes landed on the mat.

“Aren’t you all going back?”

“What is that?”

A Bai’s gaze was drawn to the assortment of items laid out, especially those roasting over the fire, leaving him momentarily stunned.

Everyone knew that Zhuo Yan had been experimenting with mud for days, building furnaces, and promising to create something akin to a stone pot. And now—

“Can mud really be made into a stone pot?!”

“Can this actually be used?”

Xiao Xian, puffing with pride, jumped in, “When we were molding the mud, everyone saw! This was all Brother Zhuo Yan’s idea. It holds water and doesn’t leak!”

“Exactly! And it can boil water,” Aman added, beaming with pride. “And you didn’t believe us back then!”

A Bai was surprisingly candid, “I’ve never seen anything made from mud that could hold water.”

“Yeah, neither have we,” others chimed in.

“Gods above, how amazing!”

As more and more beastmen gathered around, asking questions in excitement, Xiao Xian glanced at Zhuo Yan. Receiving a nod, he grabbed a jar and demonstrated how to fill it with water, leading a throng back to the river with waves of awe ringing out.

“Gods! The mud really holds water!”

“What’s it called?”

“Clay bowl, is it really made from mud?”

Xiao Xian grinned, “Of course it is! We’ve been working on it for days.”

But the truth was, the others weren’t questioning Zhuo Yan and his friends; they just couldn’t fathom that jars and bowls made of mud could be functional, rather than the dirty, leaky vessels they had imagined.

They truly had never thought it possible, and their astonishment was palpable.

Xiao Xian generously encouraged a few beastmen who were friendly with Zhuo Yan to take a closer look. However, he couldn’t help but feel nervous as he reminded them, “Be careful, though! These are different from stone pots and can break easily.”

A Bai grew even more nervous, wide-eyed with fear.

“Stop scaring him, Xiao Xian,” Aman interjected.

“I’m not scaring him; I’m just reminding him!” Xiao Xian retorted, puffing out his chest.

Fortunately, A Bai held the bowl steady. After filling it with water, he proudly showed everyone the crystal-clear liquid, exclaiming, “Look! The water is clean—there’s no mud at all!”

“Of course there isn’t!” Xiao Xian boasted, his tone triumphant.

While the riverbank buzzed with excitement, Zhuo Yan, Jie Qiao, and Shi Tou began discussing their plans for the second batch of pottery. This time, they aimed to create larger and deeper pots to accommodate the voracious appetites of the beastmen, especially the sub-beastmen, who could devour raw meat without hesitation.

“A big clay pot like the ones we use in modern times would do the trick,” Zhuo Yan said confidently.

With the success of their first batch fresh in their minds, the group felt emboldened. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered at the riverbank, A Bai holding his water bowl like a trophy. His gaze turned eager and earnest as he asked, “Zhuo Yan, could you teach us how to make these clay bowls?”

“Yeah! Can you teach us?” another chimed in. “I can trade some of my family’s meat for the lesson.”

“I can help too!”

“I can pick some Dudu fruit and mud beans for you before the snow season!” someone else piped up.

Xiao Xian and Aman exchanged worried glances, their bravado fading. They had just boasted about their clay bowls, and now they were faced with the prospect of others wanting to learn. It was all up to Zhuo Yan, and they felt the weight of it.

Watching as everyone gathered around Zhuo Yan, A-Yin stood protectively in front of her brother.

Aman leaned toward Xiao Xian, worry etched on his face. “Zhuo Yan still wants to make the pots, but what if there are too many people? What if he says no?”

“Exactly!” Aman nodded, raising his voice, “Hey everyone, don’t rush him! Zhuo Yan will do what he wants.”

“Right! Just give him a moment,” someone echoed.

A Bai quickly added, “Zhuo Yan, we’re not pressuring you! We’re just really surprised to see such bowls!”

“Yeah, yeah!” they chorused.

Once the crowd quieted down, Zhuo Yan replied, “Making these bowls requires precision and takes time. I can teach everyone, but we’re about to start on the second batch. If anyone is willing to learn, I’d be happy to show you.”

“As for trades, there’s no need. If I need help in the future, I may call on you,” he added, not wanting to take any of their offerings, especially with salt being a precious commodity and his family having enough meat.

The villagers, known for their honesty, knew Zhuo Yan’s word was his bond.

Zhuo Yan planned to design some furniture for his home—tables, chairs, and racks—after things calmed down. There was plenty of work to be done, and he appreciated any assistance they could offer.

His words sparked enthusiasm in the crowd, their faces lighting up with joy.

But then—

Crack!

A loud noise shattered the atmosphere.

Zhuo Yan felt his leather skirt slip down. Looking down, he saw A-Yin tugging at the edge of it, and his gaze quickly shifted to the makeshift kiln. The clay bowl they had crafted had cracked!

“Mine cracked too!” he heard someone exclaim.

Just moments ago, they were teaching others how to make pottery, and now they had to confront their failure. Zhuo Yan laughed it off, feeling only a little disheartened. He moved to inspect the kiln. The water in the bowl had extinguished the flames, leaving the shattered bowl glowing red and charred.

“Did we not bake it long enough?” he muttered to himself.

Jie stepped forward to comfort him. “Don’t worry, we’ll try again!”

Zhuo Yan quickly adapted his mindset. “It’s a good thing everyone was chatting; I didn’t take the bowl off the fire. If I had, the second batch would have all gone to waste.”

After all, the first batch had been successful—those water pitchers and bowls were usable, even if they hadn’t made a larger pot. Perhaps fate was guiding his decisions after all.

Failures weren’t something to fear.

Zhuo Yan stood up and addressed the group. “I apologize, everyone.”

“Why are you apologizing?” A Bai asked, confusion etched on his face.

Zhuo Yan pointed at the shattered bowl on the ground. “It couldn’t withstand the heat for long. I’ll need to figure out how to make the second batch more durable.”

A Bai looked bewildered, while the other sub-beastmen were just as perplexed. It took a moment for them to process his words before A Bai gasped, “Zhuo Yan, are you telling me your clay bowls can actually go on the fire?”

“Wait, what?”

“Wow!”

Excited gasps filled the air as others chimed in.

Zhuo Yan blinked, taken aback. “What? I just failed! Why are you all reacting like this?”

“Can we really put them on fire?”

“Wow, it can even cook food!”

“Zhuo Yan, you’re so smart and impressive!”

“Zhuo Yan, Xiao Xian was right all along!”

“Even without cooking, just seeing this is amazing! Zhuo Yan, you can only get better from here!”

Zhuo Yan looked around at their eager faces, their admiration for him evident. Suddenly, it clicked.

Xiao Xian had mentioned that clay could be used to cook, but since the sub-beastmen had never witnessed it, they couldn’t fathom that clay pots could hold water and be used without leaking.

Seeing the clay bowl now, able to hold clean water without a trace of mud, was astounding to them.

The fact that the bowl had cracked didn’t diminish their belief in Zhuo Yan’s skills.

Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but smile. Their enthusiasm was contagious.

“Then let’s get back to making the second batch! I’ll teach you how to make these,” he declared, invigorated.

The broken bowl hadn’t dampened their spirits—instead, it ignited their determination. Under Zhuo Yan’s guidance, Shi Tou and Aman began teaching everyone how to dig the kiln, ready for their next batch of pottery.

Qiao and Xiao Xian were busy teaching everyone how to sift through yellow clay, washing it thoroughly and drying it under the sun until it reached the perfect consistency—not too dry to crack, but not too wet that it wouldn’t hold shape.

Meanwhile, Zhuo Yan was focused on creating a bellows. He realized he couldn’t manage it all alone and asked if anyone had nimble hands to help.

“A Bai spoke up, “Hua and Chun are really skilled; they can weave baskets.” He hesitated before adding, “But Chun… she might not come.”

Just as Zhuo Yan was about to ask if they could check with her, he remembered that Chun was the sub-beastman who had clashed with Little Zhuo Yan before—she had been friends with Qiao.

Little Zhuo Yan, unaware of Chun’s beastman identity, had suffered a telling-off from both Chun and A Shu for encroaching on their territory.

Zhuo Yan watched A Bai’s face flush with embarrassment and decided not to dwell on it. He calmly said, “Then let’s see if Hua would be willing to come and learn.”

“I’ll go get her!” A Bai exclaimed eagerly.

As A Bai dashed off, Zhuo Yan returned to his task, pondering Chun’s situation. He and Qiao had recently become friends, and it was clear that Qiao had strained ties with her old friends for his sake. But he also remembered the trouble Chun and A Shu had caused for Little Zhuo Yan.

In a secret twist of fate, what no one knew was that Little Zhuo Yan had already lost his life. Had he not arrived, he would have simply been seen as a child seeking favor with a beastman, receiving a harsh lesson—his demise would have been seen as a consequence of his own actions.

Once Zhuo Yan arrived, however, he had earned a notorious reputation among the sub-beastmen. It wasn’t due to his own words defending Little Zhuo Yan; rather, it was because a frightened, fatherless child had been led to believe that having a beastman around meant safety. Desperate, he sought help where he could.

The most “blunt” flattery Little Zhuo Yan offered to A Shu, the beastman, was: “You… you can stay in my cave, just for the winter.”

At that time, Qiao had accompanied Chun to confront Zhuo Yan for clarity. But when Qiao heard Little Zhuo Yan apologize, he softened, pulling Chun aside to say he knew he was wrong and suggested they let it go.

Chun, however, was not so forgiving and insisted that A Shu teach Little Zhuo Yan a lesson.

Remembering all this, Zhuo Yan decided to overlook Chun’s past indiscretions for now, thinking it best to leave it until Qiao brought it up again.