Chapter 39

A-Yin’s front paw had mostly recovered after just one day of rest. Whether it was thanks to the medicinal powder or the natural resilience of the beastfolk, by the third day, A-Yin was back on patrol with Ato.

Zhuo Yan was in good spirits. As he left the house in the morning, he gently rubbed A-Yin’s ears and said, “Our A-Yin has made a new friend. Off you go.”

“Awwooo~” A-Yin nuzzled his brother’s hand before darting off.

Not far ahead, a leopard was waiting. As soon as the silver leopard caught up, the two ran side by side, quickly disappearing from sight.

Zhuo Yan had his companion, and he was happy A-Yin had found a friend too.

Today was another great day!

With many hands, tasks were quickly accomplished. Yesterday, they built two kilns and a pig trough. Today was all about making charcoal. The beastfolk had finally understood why firewood wasn’t enough—it took high temperatures to fire the clay pots, and only charcoal could do the job.

Although most of them still only half understood the process, it didn’t stop them from working.

“Good morning, Zhuo Yan.”

“Morning, Zhuo Yan.”

“Zhuo Yan, we’re heading out to chop wood today.”

Several beastfolk, carrying wicker baskets, greeted Zhuo Yan as they passed by. Zhuo Yan smiled and reminded them, “Don’t stray too far, just stick to the grove near the tribe.”

“Don’t worry, Zhuo Yan, we’ll be careful.”

“And with the patrol around, it’s safe.”

“We’re off!”

Zhuo Yan waved them off and made his way to the work site. The once barren land had transformed. Now, every few meters, there was a kiln, and the pig trough was set a bit further away. The area had been cleared, with slabs of stone from the riverbed pressed into the ground. Dozens of pottery pieces, large and small, were arranged neatly, waiting to be fired.

The pottery needed time to dry. In this world’s climate, the batch they had molded the previous evening was now perfectly arranged under the trees, ready to be fired today.

Sticking to his routine, Zhuo Yan decided to fire the smaller pieces first, just in case something went wrong. He would adjust the firing time gradually. Among the batch were two pieces he had made himself, using ground shards from the first batch of failed, cracked pots.

As Zhuo Yan taught the others how to build kilns and fire pottery, he kept recalling bits of knowledge from his past life. He remembered seeing people crush broken tiles into powder and mix it with yellow clay to improve the chances of a successful firing.

They didn’t have tiles here, but tiles also needed to be fired. The broken bowl was essentially fine; it had only cracked due to insufficient firing time. So, Zhuo Yan figured he wouldn’t waste it and decided to crush it, mix it with the clay, and see if there was any difference.

Before long, the others gathered to begin firing the pottery. Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but appreciate how everyone worked together, diligently following his instructions. Of course, if someone got tired, they’d rest for a while and then return to work when they were ready.

“Alright, let’s load the kiln,” Zhuo Yan instructed.

The dried pottery was carefully placed inside the kiln. They didn’t seal the top right away; instead, they started with a low-temperature burn using firewood. Once the temperature began to rise, Zhuo Yan gave the signal to seal the kiln with yellow clay.

“Last time, we didn’t fire it long enough. This time, we’ll fire it for over a day,” Zhuo Yan explained. Seeing the confusion in their eyes, he clarified, “We’ll fire it from morning until after dark.”

It was just before 7 AM now, and with the days being long, the firing would last at least thirteen or fourteen hours.

“Don’t hold back on the charcoal. We need to maintain a high temperature. The bellows must be operated continuously, by hand. If anyone gets tired, just shout, and someone will take over,” Zhuo Yan outlined all the potential issues ahead of time.

The beastfolk listened attentively. Zhuo Yan, Stone, and Aman would take turns working the kiln today. The stronger ones stayed to learn, so they could handle the firing themselves in the future. Those with nimble hands went with Qiao and Little Salty to collect more yellow clay.

As the sun climbed higher, the heat intensified, especially near the kilns.

Stone stripped off his vest, leaving only a small leather skirt. His muscles flexed as he worked the bellows, sweat dripping down his arms.

Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but feel a little envious as he glanced at Stone’s strong arms, then tried to flex his own in the same way.

“…I really am a weakling,” he thought to himself before saying, “Stone, take a break. I’ll take over.”

Stone didn’t argue and handed over the task. Stretching his arms, he asked, “I’m starving. What’s for lunch?”

“The hunting party’s been gone for two days. I’ve got a feeling they’ll be back today—and with plenty of meat,” Aman speculated, also feeling hungry.

Qiao, nearby, added, “I just hope they return safely.”

By midday, though the hunting party hadn’t returned yet, A-Yin and Ato came back, dragging a deer between them. As usual, they split the deer in two. The leopard paused to watch A-Yin, who, already holding his share, sprinted off to find his brother. The leopard then picked up his half and followed behind, heading to his own sibling.

In truth, A-Yin didn’t need to give the leopard half of the deer. After all, A-Yin had caught it. The leopard had lost track of the deer he was chasing.

Ato, however, shared a large piece with his younger brother, Little Salty, before running back to find their mother.

Zhuo Yan made sure to set aside over twenty pounds of deer meat for A-Yin, letting the silver leopard eat his fill first. Once A-Yin was satisfied, Zhuo Yan and his friends roasted the rest. There was more than they could eat, so after discussing it with Little Salty, they decided to share the meat with everyone.

After all, Zhuo Yan thought it wasn’t fair for them to enjoy the roasted meat while others, who had worked hard all day, went without. Since there was plenty, everyone got a small piece to take the edge off their hunger.

To Zhuo Yan’s surprise, the beastfolk who received the meat were stunned. Though they accepted and ate it—since they were indeed hungry—their eyes began to glow with warmth and closeness toward Zhuo Yan.

“Did I do something strange?” Zhuo Yan whispered to his friends.

Aman spoke up first. “Strange? You always say strange things.”

Zhuo Yan punched him playfully in the shoulder.

Aman laughed, then seriously explained, “No, it’s not strange. Food is shared among friends here. They probably think you see them as your companions.”

Qiao nodded in agreement.

Zhuo Yan scratched his head. “…I was just being polite.”

Later, when Little Salty returned from handing out the roasted meat, he was buzzing with excitement, his furry ears twitching. Being the youngest, he cared the most about what the other beastfolk thought of him, and his cheerful, straightforward nature made him eager to please.

He chattered on, “Zhuo Yan, they all thanked me!”

“I wasn’t even expecting them to. But you were right—it wouldn’t feel right for us to be full while others worked on empty stomachs.”

“Little Man even gave me a berry!”

“They said I’m getting really good at this and that I don’t seem like a little cub anymore.”

“I’m getting smarter!”

Zhuo Yan smiled, watching Little Salty’s fuzzy ears twitch with happiness. Unable to resist, he reached out to ruffle them, but just as he was about to, a furry head nudged his palm. It was A-Yin, rubbing against him affectionately.

“You finished eating already? Are you full?”

A-Yin let out a few satisfied yowls, saying he was full. Still, Zhuo Yan fed him a couple more bites of roasted meat. A-Yin rubbed his head against his brother, begging for more attention. Zhuo Yan, completely charmed, couldn’t resist petting him all over, momentarily forgetting his earlier plan—to ruffle Little Salty’s ears.

When he looked up, Little Salty had already fluttered off like a butterfly, helping someone with their pottery work. He was taking his new role as a teacher quite seriously, enjoying every moment of it.

“Well, I guess I’ve still got A-Yin,” Zhuo Yan thought with a grin.

It had been a full and productive day, albeit a hot one from working by the kilns. The woodcutting group returned, and Stone and Aman began teaching everyone how to make charcoal. Whenever something was unclear, they called on Zhuo Yan for help, and he, in turn, rotated with the others to tend the kiln.

By evening, the charcoal for the pig trough kiln was burning steadily.

Suddenly, the sound of knocking echoed through the camp.

Qiao’s eyes lit up as he stood. “The hunting party’s back.”

“They’ve returned with the hunt!”

The beastfolk, busy with their tasks, perked up. Zhuo Yan, still tending the kiln, made arrangements with Stone and Aman. He decided to let the two of them, along with A-Yin, go collect their share of the meat. The pig trough kiln didn’t need constant watching, so it was safe to leave for a bit.

Soon, the bustling kiln site fell quiet as everyone headed back to the tribe to receive their meat.

Left alone by the kiln, Zhuo Yan didn’t feel lonely for long. He soon heard A-Yin’s familiar yowl. The silver leopard bounded over, carrying a huge chunk of meat in his jaws.

“Put the meat in the basket—that’s a big piece,” Zhuo Yan said, continuing his work. A-Yin proudly dragged the basket over, showing off the meat he had received.

Zhuo Yan blinked in surprise. “Aman was right. The hunting party didn’t come back empty-handed. That’s over forty pounds of meat!”

It was a rare amount. The last time they’d seen this much meat was when the hunting party had taken down a young mammoth. This haul was only slightly smaller, proving they hadn’t wasted their two days.

A-Yin, uninterested in the meat for now, nudged it away once he saw Zhuo Yan wasn’t hungry. He cleverly dragged the basket further away, placing it in the shade, out of the kiln’s heat.

“We’ll eat that tomorrow morning,” Zhuo Yan remarked.

A-Yin wagged his tail and sat down to keep Zhuo Yan company as he worked.

As dusk fell, a few beastfolk started trickling back, each holding a small piece of meat, about the size of a fist, which they offered to Zhuo Yan. He politely declined, but they insisted.

“You shared your meat with us at lunch.”

“We’re partners, aren’t we?”

“Don’t be shy, Zhuo Yan.”

“We’ve got plenty to eat.”

Zhuo Yan explained, laughing, “It’s not that. I’ve already got a big chunk at home, and without salt, it won’t keep. But I appreciate the gesture. I’ll accept the meat, and we’ll cook it together tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good!”

“Great idea, Zhuo Yan!”

“Oh, by the way, you could trade some of your pottery for salt,” Ah Bai chimed in. “The clay pots are really useful!”

“That’s not going to work. I can’t make it to the Feathered Ones’ market this year. Sister Qiao is helping me get supplies, but orcs are fast runners, and pottery is fragile. It’s not like stone. I don’t want to trouble her too much,” Zhuo Yan explained.

The others nodded in understanding. Zhuo Yan had a point. Whether it was his idea to roast the meat together tomorrow morning or his plan to trade pottery for salt at the market, Zhuo Yan had thought everything through.

A Bai glanced at A-Yin, who seemed to have grown even more. “Don’t be discouraged, Zhuo Yan. Once A-Yin is fully grown, even if he can’t take on human form, he’ll be able to carry you to the market himself.”

A-Yin perked up at that, ears standing tall.

Zhuo Yan patted A-Yin’s ears with a smile. “Then I’d better keep feeding him lots of meat so he grows big and strong. That way, it won’t tire him out.”

“Brother is so thin; he’ll never get tired. Even if Brother got strong, he wouldn’t!” A-Yin thought to himself.

The group had come to drop off meat, and with night falling, the potters were ready to head back to their caves. The orcs working on the charcoal kiln were hesitant, so Zhuo Yan said, “It’s fine, you all can go. Shi Tou and Aman will be here soon.”

But it was strange—neither Sister Qiao nor Xiao Xian had much to say. One had family, and A Da had just returned safely after two days, so he wouldn’t be coming. Xiao Xian, being underage, had to return home by nightfall. But what about Shi Tou and Aman? They still hadn’t shown up.

“I’ll stay here until they arrive,” A Bai offered.

A close friend of A Bai also decided to stay. “We’ll head back together later, so you won’t be scared.”

“Alright.”

As night deepened and the fire crackled softly, A Bai and the other beastman grew a bit uneasy. They made small talk while Zhuo Yan reassured them, “You can head back. Really, A-Yin’s with me, so I won’t be scared.”

“Alright, we’ll head out then. Stay safe, Zhuo Yan.”

“Take care on the way,” Zhuo Yan replied, considering for a moment whether to ask A-Yin to escort them a bit of the way, but decided against it. He didn’t want to risk a misunderstanding with another orc at night.

Zhuo Yan always put A-Yin first.

After the two left, Zhuo Yan told A-Yin, “Go watch them from the main road. You don’t have to follow—just make sure they’re safely out of sight, then come back.”

A-Yin let out a soft growl, obedient as always. He trotted off from the mountain bay, tail swishing anxiously. He still wanted to stay with his brother. Hurry up, you two… hurry up…

A few moments later, Zhuo Yan heard A-Yin’s call, but it wasn’t urgent. It sounded more relaxed. Zhuo Yan chuckled, thinking A-Yin was just messing around. He called back, “I’m fine, nothing to worry about. Just come back once they’re gone.”

“Howl! Howl!” A-Yin responded excitedly. Brother, those two beastmen are coming back, and there’s a whole group of them now. A-Yin kept his eyes on the group getting closer, some carrying torches. Then he rushed back, “Howl!”

Brother! Shi Tou, Aman, and the Chief are here!

Zhuo Yan thought A-Yin had just finished his task and started ruffling the furry head affectionately. One man and one beast exchanged glances until Aman’s voice cut through the night. “Zhuo Yan.”

“You finally made it!” Zhuo Yan called out from the kiln, hearing voices but not seeing anyone yet.

Aman didn’t answer, but within minutes, the faint glow from the kiln was suddenly illuminated by the brighter light of torches. Zhuo Yan finally noticed something off. He turned to look at the growing light and saw the Chief leading the way, A Da holding a torch, followed by Shi Tou, Aman, Qiao, and, to his surprise, A Bai and his friend who had just left.

Zhuo Yan blinked in confusion, slowly standing up.

“Chief, good evening! I didn’t pick up the meat myself, but A-Yin did. It’s all back already,” he explained, but realized that this probably wasn’t just about collecting meat.

Surely a beastman collecting meat wouldn’t bring the Chief here.

“Zhuo Yan, we’re here to see your pottery,” the Chief began, his voice steady but with an undertone of warmth. “I heard from the others in the tribe about the clay bowls they’ve been making. They said you taught them.”

Zhuo Yan sighed in relief—it wasn’t anything too serious. But then, anxiety crept back in. Teaching the others how to make pottery was one thing, but explaining how he knew this was another. His friends never questioned him, but the Chief might.

What if he asked how a beastman like him, who had never left the tribe, knew all this?

“Chief, we need to keep stoking the kiln, or the pottery will be ruined,” Shi Tou said, noticing the fire was unattended. He hurried over to take over for Zhuo Yan. “You go talk, I’ve got this.”

Zhuo Yan nodded, grateful for the help. Shi Tou noticed his friend’s tension and wondered why. To him, this was a good thing—the Chief seemed to like the pottery.

“Keep at it, Shi Tou,” the Chief said before turning back to Zhuo Yan.

As Zhuo Yan approached, he realized the Chief was holding a clay bowl.

“When I heard the talk during the meat distribution, I got curious and went back to fetch one of the bowls for the Chief to see. That’s why we’re late,” Aman explained.

Qiao, sensing Zhuo Yan’s nervousness, added, “The Chief really likes the bowl.”

“I do like it,” the Chief agreed, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the bowl. Half-filled with water, not a drop had leaked during the journey. The water was so clear you could see the marks on the inside. “They say it was shaped from clay and fired. This bowl is much easier to make than carving stone.”

Every cave in the tribe had stone pots, but smaller items like bowls and plates were rare. Carving stone was hard work, and it often took orcs days of hammering and chiseling, only for the stone to crack just before it was done, splitting into pieces.

And if they tried to avoid cracks by making the walls thicker, they’d need so much wood to heat them that it often wasn’t worth it. With thick stone, it was impossible to heat enough water or cook food properly. Orcs could eat raw meat, but for beastmen and those in human form, cooking some of their food was better for them.

Eating too much raw meat could bring out a more feral side of an orc’s nature.”

“Zhuo Yan, they say these clay pots you’ve made can be used to cook over a fire, like a stone pot?” the chief asked, his voice kind but curious.

Feeling the warmth in the chief’s tone, Zhuo Yan relaxed a bit. “Yes, if the firing process goes well, the pottery can be used for cooking. But our first batch wasn’t heated long enough, so it’s only good for holding things.”

The chief nodded thoughtfully, his eyes drifting to the mound of earth where the kiln was hidden. “They say this is a kiln?” he asked, referring to what Qiao had explained earlier.

“Yes,” Zhuo Yan said, “but we can only open it tonight. If the pottery stays in the heat too long, it might crack or explode.”

Hearing this, the chief decided to stay and wait for the kiln to be opened.

Zhuo Yan suddenly felt the pressure mounting. It was as if he were tightening screws under the watchful eyes of his boss—but thankfully, there were others around to share the tension. The chief took a seat on a nearby dirt ledge, watching quietly like a predator patiently waiting for its prey, his presence almost invisible in the dark.

As the night grew quieter, the wait began to feel long and dull. Aman, never one to sit still, broke the silence. “Honestly, I was shocked when I first heard about this,” he said.

Zhuo Yan, sensing danger, whispered, “Aren’t you scared now?”

Aman froze for a moment, as if suddenly remembering the chief was right there. He glanced around, trying to spot him, but couldn’t seem to find where he was sitting.

Yin, Zhuo Yan’s sleek, silver panther companion, nudged him with a paw, as if to remind him. His brother was watching the chief all along.

Distracted by Yin’s affectionate nudge, Zhuo Yan shifted the conversation. “We’ve got some meat from earlier—let’s cook it up for breakfast tomorrow. Better than letting it spoil in a day.”

“Good idea,” Aman muttered, still scanning the area for the chief, who seemed to have vanished into the shadows.

Meanwhile, Yin, sensing his brother’s unease, positioned himself directly in front of Zhuo Yan, blocking his line of sight to the chief. Yin’s silent message was clear: ‘Why keep looking at the chief when you’re clearly nervous?’

Qiao and Ah Da, sitting nearby, were having a quiet chat about the recent pottery-making process, from kneading the clay to washing the yellow earth. Zhuo Yan overheard them but was too distracted by Aman’s ramblings: “You know, the chief isn’t actually that scary. I mean, he’s a good guy, right? But… I’m still kind of afraid.”

Zhuo Yan’s heart skipped a beat. Did Aman really think the chief couldn’t hear him? He could definitely hear every word.

Just as Zhuo Yan’s thoughts began to wander, the silence was broken by a tired voice. “Zhuo Yan, I’m exhausted. Is it ready yet?”

Zhuo Yan snapped back to reality. “I don’t know, how long has it been?”

The chief’s deep voice suddenly appeared from nowhere, startling Zhuo Yan. “How long does the firing take?”

Zhuo Yan jumped, not expecting the chief to be so close. “We started just after sunrise, so it’s been… quite a few hours now.”

“And how long did it take to fell the tree you used for the wood?” the chief asked, referencing their earlier efforts.

“About half a day, with Ah Da’s help,” Zhuo Yan answered.

“Then we wait a bit longer,” the chief replied calmly.

Time dragged on, and the cold of the night crept in, but finally, the chief gave the signal. Zhuo Yan, who had been keeping a vigilant eye on the kiln, sprang into action. “Aman, stop cranking the bellows. Time to switch to wood for a slow cool-down.”

Aman gave a hearty “Got it!” as the group gathered around the kiln, watching as the fire inside slowly dwindled. Ah Da, tall and sturdy, lifted a torch high, illuminating the kiln as Zhuo Yan began carefully removing the clay pots from the opening. To his relief, most of the pieces were intact, with only two pots showing signs of overfiring—a faint white discoloration.

“They should be ready to test once they’ve cooled,” Zhuo Yan announced, inspecting the other pots, which had a richer, deeper hue than their previous batch.

Excitement buzzed through the group. Even the usually stoic chief’s eyes lit up as they waited for the final test. Once the pottery had cooled enough, the chief himself took one of the jugs, filled it with water, and placed it over the fire. Everyone watched in silence, eyes fixed on the pot, as the water inside began to heat up, soft whispers of steam rising.

The chief’s eyes crinkled with a hint of a smile. “Good,” he said, the single word carrying the weight of his approval.

Zhuo Yan, cautious as ever, warned, “Let’s wait a bit longer. The last pot cracked after a while.”

The chief nodded, but anyone paying close attention would have noticed the excitement in his otherwise composed demeanor. He was holding back his joy, waiting patiently for the final proof.

Minutes passed, and the water boiled steadily. Zhuo Yan glanced up to find the whole group standing around in awe, their faces lit with wonder. Even Aman, Qiao, Ah Da, and the others, who had seen the first batch, were struck by how perfect the new pots looked.

Zhuo Yan allowed himself a small smile. It seemed like they had done it.

The pot had been over the fire for what felt like forever.

Half the water had already boiled away, but still, it hadn’t cracked.

Even the chief, who was usually calm and composed, was starting to show signs of excitement.

“Zhuo Yan, you did it! You made it!” Aman was the first to shout.

“Hey, it wasn’t just me. We all made it together,” Zhuo Yan replied, smiling.

That night, they had successfully fired a new, improved version of the clay pots—version 2.0, if you will. Unlike the first time, when Zhuo Yan and Stone had laughed out loud with excitement, tonight, the group was quietly stunned. They were impressed—this was Zhuo Yan’s work!

The chief nodded in approval. “Very good. Zhuo Yan, from now on, the pottery making is your responsibility. If you need help with chopping wood or other heavy work, Ah Da will bring some of the stronger tribe members to assist.”

“This is for the good of the entire tribe,” the chief added.

Ah Da responded promptly, “Understood, Chief!”

Despite the success, the chief didn’t take any of the newly made pots for himself, even when Zhuo Yan offered. “You all worked hard. Once the tribe has enough for everyone, I’ll get mine, too,” the chief said with a wave of his hand.

Then he added with a smile, “Zhuo Yan, you’re smart. When the tribe trades for salt later this year, you’ll get an extra share. I’m sure everyone will agree—it’s well deserved.”

With that, the chief left.

Zhuo Yan: !!! What a pleasant surprise!

After cleaning up and heading back to their respective caves, Zhuo Yan was still buzzing with excitement. Not only had they successfully fired the pottery, but now he also had a promise of more salt. Lying on his stone bed, petting Yin, he suddenly realized that the chief had never asked him how he knew about making pottery.

Oh well, it didn’t matter now.

The next morning, Zhuo Yan and Yin arrived at the “kiln site” with some meat, ready to work. Almost immediately, the other sub-beastmen gathered around him, chattering excitedly.

“Zhuo Yan, I heard from Ah Bai that the chief came by last night?”

“Did you really make pottery as strong as stone pots?”

“What are we doing today, Zhuo Yan?”

“And I heard you’re getting extra salt from the trade?”

“Of course he is! Zhuo Yan made all those pots!”

“Yeah, even the chief said he’d be rewarded.”

“Zhuo Yan, can I see the pots you made last night?”

“Sure, go ahead and take a look!” Zhuo Yan replied, smiling at their enthusiasm.

He was already thinking ahead—today, he wanted to test the special gray pottery he had made by mixing in crushed clay pot shards. Would it have any unique properties? He was eager to find out.