Chapter 34

In the afternoon, a few people headed into the forest outside the tribe to gather firewood. They carried basket after basket back, filled with branches. The wood they chopped was no thicker than a child’s arm, and they made sure the lengths were relatively even, with some thinner pieces among them.

“Brother Zhuo Yan, why don’t we just cut down trees?” someone asked.

Zhuo Yan replied, “By chopping branches, the trees can continue to grow. We’ll have more to use in the future. Besides, if the branches grow wild without trimming, the trees won’t get tall. This is enough for now.” He thought to himself that during these times, with so few people and vast resources, there was no need to be wasteful.

The Leopard Tribe only had around sixty people, yet they controlled a vast mountain range, dense forests, and further out, expansive grasslands. Despite years of using wood for cooking and heating, the forest remained lush and vibrant—a true benefit of having so few people.

In modern times, if a town or a few villages relied on a mountain for resources without any restrictions on deforestation, it wouldn’t take more than a few years for those mountains to become barren wastelands.

Before I came here, there was a saying online: We’ve barely had time to enjoy the comforts of wealth, yet environmental conservation is constantly on our minds. It was true. Even though I’d heard it a million times growing up, the habit of conservation stuck with me.

The four of them spent the afternoon gathering firewood and stacked it neatly in an area where they’d be making charcoal the next day—an open, flat space near the potato fields by the river.

By now, evening had fallen. The sunset bathed the sky in breathtaking colors.

“What are you doing now, Zhuo Yan?” A passing sub-beastman, curious, called out.

“Burning firewood,” Aman answered.

Zhuo Yan nodded in agreement.

The sub-beastman’s face froze, caught mid-expression. It wasn’t an exaggeration; his face literally seemed stuck, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to ask more but didn’t know how to phrase it.

“Oh, okay… carry on. I’ll head back to my cave,” he said, finally giving up and walking away with his basket, joining his companions, who were equally puzzled.

“Zhuo Yan and Aman chopped a ton of branches,” one of them commented.

“I heard Aman say they were burning firewood,” another added.

“But it’s so hot right now, and there’s no snow. Why burn firewood?” one asked, confused.

“No idea.”

“Did you ask?”

“Yeah, but all they said was that they were burning firewood.”

So, the group walked on, completely baffled. Why would anyone burn that much wood in this heat? Even for cooking, it seemed like overkill. They couldn’t understand.

Meanwhile, Zhuo Yan and the others continued sorting the firewood. They stacked the thicker branches together and placed the thinner ones aside, trimming everything to roughly the same length. As they finished up, Shi Tou admired the neatly arranged pile, his expression soft. “Looks good.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Aman said, stretching lazily.

Zhuo Yan nodded. “Yeah, we’ll start burning it tomorrow.” He was exhausted and headed to the river to wash his face before taking A-Yin back for a rest. Dinner was the meat simmering in the stone pot, but it was too greasy. He fished out a large chunk and grilled it on a stone slab to make it more palatable.

A-Yin could eat most of it, but Zhuo Yan had little appetite. The lack of salt made even the crispiest, rendered fat feel too rich and cloying.

“You go ahead and eat,” Zhuo Yan said, seeing A-Yin’s worried face. “I’m really not hungry. Without salt, everything tastes bland. You should stick to eating raw food when you can.”

He regretted not accepting Sister Qiao’s offer to trade for salt. Now, he wished he had something lightweight but valuable to exchange. Besides the clay pots they were preparing to fire, there wasn’t much at home that could be traded.

Half a bear pelt wouldn’t do—it was both needed and too heavy.

In recent days, he’d overheard the sub-beastmen talking about the Feather Tribe’s marketplace. Besides the Leopard Tribe, most of the other tribes traded primarily in furs.

And the Feather Tribe loved beautiful things.

While Zhuo Yan was lost in thought, A-Yin stopped eating and glanced at the stone slab where there was still a lot of meat left. His brother couldn’t eat because there was no salt, and even though he mentioned that the blood of herbivores had some salt content, his brother didn’t like eating raw meat…

A-Yin’s ears suddenly perked up. He remembered something!

His brother had once mentioned that mammoth meat had a slight salty flavor, and mammoths lived in specific areas… With excitement, A-Yin nudged Zhuo Yan and whimpered, trying to reassure him that he had an idea.

Zhuo Yan, thinking A-Yin was just worried about him, patted his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s too hot to eat much anyway. I’ll be fine. I’m not that hungry after lunch.”

As he cleaned the stone slab, he noticed that the stone pot still had about half a pot of glistening white fat left, and suddenly his eyes lit up.

“A-Yin, I know what we can trade for salt—soap! If it doesn’t get us a lot of salt, even a little would be enough. Let’s see how it goes.”

He felt a little better now. Besides, the tribe leader would bring back some salt after trading communal goods, so they’d at least get a share. That should be… enough, right?

Feeling optimistic, both man and leopard happily bathed in the river as the night fell. They returned to their stone bed, where the mats still held the warmth and scent of the sun and grass. Exhausted, Zhuo Yan quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, only to dream of gleaming piles of fine, white salt. So much salt!

He had struck gold—or rather, salt!

The next morning, Zhuo Yan woke up still thinking about the dream, realizing that lately, his idea of riches wasn’t gold or wealth, but mountains of salt. Clearly, the lack of salt had really gotten to him.

A-Yin grabbed a cold piece of meat and hurried off to join the patrol team.

Xiao Xian, Shi Tou, and Aman arrived early as well. Xiao Xian cheerfully said, “Don’t worry, Brother Zhuo Yan. My second brother is on patrol today too.”

“A-Yin didn’t even let me heat the meat this morning,” Zhuo Yan said, noticing A-Yin’s unusual rush.

Aman joked, “That’s probably because your house is out of meat.”

“There’s still some left,” Zhuo Yan muttered, thinking of the greasy, unappetizing meat sitting in the pot. “But A-Yin could definitely use some fresh meat.”

If worse came to worst, they still had chickens and rabbits at home. This was the beauty of raising livestock—it provided a safety net. Zhuo Yan felt a sense of security knowing he had that backup.

But the Leopard Tribe didn’t have this mindset. Except for stockpiling food during the snowy season, they lived day to day, relying on the hunting teams for their meals, enjoying the present without thinking ahead.

As they chatted, the group made their way to the riverbank. Zhuo Yan kindly offered them some breakfast, though they all declined, knowing the meat in his pot was tough, greasy, and, without salt, hardly appetizing.

Zhuo Yan: “…tears of poverty.”

Having no salt is like living in an empty house, poor enough to cry.

Patrol Team

A-Yin, the silver leopard, found Xiao Xian’s older brother, now a fellow patrol member. Ever since he joined, there were now two beast-forms in the patrol, where there had only been A-Yin before. After deciding on the patrol routes, the team split into small groups to circle the territory.

“Awuuu, awuuu, awuuu!” A-Yin let out a series of howls.

The spotted leopard, who had been lazily strolling along, almost tripped over his own paws, his eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at A-Yin. “Awoo?” What did you just say?

Patiently, A-Yin repeated his message.

The spotted leopard froze, his fur standing on end. Did I really hear that right? A-Yin—still just a young cub—wanted to head to where the mammoths roamed? And did he know the way? No way! He wasn’t even fully grown himself and had only faced a big predator once, a bear during last year’s snow season, and let’s just say the bear won that round easily.

But he couldn’t say that out loud.

“Awoo? Awoo awoo!” Why do you need to find mammoths?

“Awooo wuuu wuuu!” A-Yin explained that his family was running out of food, suggesting they hunt sheep instead.

“Wuuu wuuu.” If you don’t like sheep, we could go after deer. They taste great, though you’ll have to run further. But I’m not afraid of a long run!

“Awooo awooo awoooo!” But mammoths? Seriously?

A-Yin just swished his tail. The spotted leopard, now completely on edge, scrambled to offer alternatives. I’ll catch a young lamb for you if you really want! Just don’t go looking for mammoths!

But A-Yin remained calm and steady.

Finally, the spotted leopard, fur still bristling, tilted his head and asked, “Awoo? Are you serious? Who told you this?”

A-Yin, with absolute certainty, responded, “Awooo!” My brother said it, so it must be true.

Salt from where the mammoths roam? The spotted leopard absentmindedly scratched at the grass with his paw, uncertain. He didn’t believe it. He tried to persuade A-Yin to drop the idea.

“Awooo!” You don’t trust my brother?

The spotted leopard thought to himself, Well… no, I don’t. Salt only came from the birdfolk market, far away from the sea, where it was painstakingly gathered by the sea people. It was rare and valuable, and there was no way the territories of the forest and plains-dwelling tribes would have salt just lying around.

Your brother’s pulling your tail, the spotted leopard thought, but one glance at A-Yin’s determined gaze made him hold back. Instead, he said, “Awoo, awooo awooo.” If there really is salt, you should tell the chief and let the hunters check it out.

A-Yin flicked his tail, “Awoo! Awooo!” You just don’t believe me.

And it was true. The spotted leopard didn’t. He couldn’t help but trail along beside A-Yin as they patrolled, all the while trying to talk him out of it.

When their patrol ended, instead of heading straight home, A-Yin turned deeper into the tribe’s territory. The spotted leopard nervously followed at a distance. Was A-Yin really going to speak with the chief?

A-Yin didn’t head for the chief’s cave. Instead, he made his way to another beastman’s territory.

“Awoo awoo awoo!” A-Yin, are you out of your mind?! The spotted leopard sprinted ahead, blocking A-Yin’s path. In beast-form, going onto another’s land without an invitation or an accompanying sub-beast was asking for trouble—a fight at the very least.

A-Yin turned back, curious, “Awoo awoo awooo?” I just want to ask Lei’s father where the mammoths are most often seen.

The spotted leopard was exasperated. Fine, but don’t go in! Just call from here. He stood firmly in place.

A-Yin understood, and from a distance, they howled their question toward the cave. Soon, an older sub-beast appeared, waving them away. But behind him, an elder beastman limped out.

“You want to know where the mammoths roam?” he asked.

A-Yin nodded, answering with soft howls. Yes, I want to find where they are.

The beastman looked down at the young leopards. He knew the silver one; the cub had survived while his own son, Lei, had not.

“I’ll tell you.” The elder beastman stood tall, giving directions. They had to leave the tribe at dawn, run east for a full day until they reached a river, then follow it westward until dusk.

A-Yin memorized everything, responding with a grateful “Awoo!” Thank you.

The beastman, without further words, turned and went back to his cave, his limp noticeable as he walked. The sub-beast glanced back at them with concern before following him inside.

“You two shouldn’t go. It’s dangerous out there,” the sub-beast called out, before disappearing into the cave.

But A-Yin had already made up his mind.

The spotted leopard yowled, “We’re just asking! We’re not really going!” He watched as the sub-beast disappeared into the cave.

A-Yin turned and began walking away, still replaying the directions the beastman had given. The spotted leopard, panicked, transformed back into his human form and hurried after him. “Are you really going? You shouldn’t! Even your brother’s never been to where the mammoths roam—how could he know if there’s salt there?” He was proud of his clever reasoning, convinced now that the idea of salt near the mammoths was just something A-Yin’s family had made up.

“Awoo.” A-Yin’s calm reply came. I know.

Relieved, the spotted leopard sighed. “Good! As long as you know. I’m heading home then.”

A-Yin stopped and turned to him. “Awoo awooo~” Thank you.

“No problem, no problem,” the spotted leopard waved his hand dismissively. Then, realizing he was still in human form and stark naked, he blushed furiously, quickly shifting back into his beast form before sprinting home. Halfway there, he suddenly remembered—I never even told A-Yin my name!

Ah well, next time, he thought.

Meanwhile…

Zhuo Yan, Aman, Shi Tou, and Xiao Xian were busy early in the morning, building a charcoal kiln. They stacked thick logs layer by layer inside, with smaller branches and twigs on top. Dry grass was packed at the very top, all covered by layers of dirt.

Though everyone had questions and didn’t fully understand the process, Zhuo Yan tried his best to explain, and despite their confusion, the team worked quickly and efficiently.

By noon, Sister Qiao showed up unexpectedly—bringing along some roasted meat.

“What are you guys up to?” she asked.

Xiao Xian was quick to answer, “Brother Zhuo Yan said we’re making charcoal. You burn wood, but instead of turning it into ash, you get charcoal.”

Qiao raised an eyebrow. “What’s charcoal?” she asked.

Aman shrugged. “Don’t ask us. We don’t really know either,” he said, spreading his hands wide, as Shi Tou nodded in agreement.

Curious, Qiao turned to Zhuo Yan for an explanation. He sighed. Here we go again…

“Alright, one more time: You burn the wood at just the right temperature, without letting it get too much air. That way, instead of turning to ash, it turns into charcoal—black and shiny, which burns longer and hotter.”

Qiao laughed. “I still don’t fully get it, but hey, if you’re doing it, I’ll help.”

“Thanks, Sister Qiao!”

These were his friends. They were the best.

Zhuo Yan skipped over the tears—he’d already had his emotional moment a few days ago. By midday, they had finished the preparations and sat by the river to enjoy the roasted meat Qiao had brought. She looked healthy and happy, clearly living well these past few days.

As they ate, they chatted about recent events. The potatoes were almost ready to harvest in about a month. Qiao had chickens and rabbits at home, the chickens had finally stopped running wild, and the rabbits had dug little dens by the hillside. Her uncle had given her an elephant bone, and Shi Tou had helped her carve it into a knife. It was nice to catch up, even though they had seen each other here and there during the busy days.

“By the way, Sister Qiao,” Zhuo Yan began, “I’m planning to make a few bars of soap from bubble leaves. Would you mind taking them to the birdfolk market to trade for some salt? I promise they’re light and won’t take up much space—about the weight of a single piece of firewood.”

Qiao quickly agreed, “Of course! You’ve been too polite. You don’t have any salt left, and after we visit the birdfolk market, we’ll need to start stockpiling food for winter. What will you do then?”

“Plus,” she added with a smile, “this is my first year with Ah Da as my partner, so we can’t take too much to the market ourselves.”

Qiao laughed softly. “And thank you, Zhuo Yan. I followed your method for tanning hides, and they turned out so soft and beautiful! I’m sure they’ll trade well at the market, even though everyone will have plenty of hides.”

Trading hides for salt was something everyone did, but Qiao had heard from elders and other sub-beasts that silver horns could fetch a lot more. This advice had bothered her before, but now, standing with her friends, she felt understood and content.

“By the way,” Qiao asked, “what’s soap?”

Zhuo Yan grinned, “Remember when we tanned hides with bubble leaves and ash? Well, if you add some fat to the mix, and let it cool, it turns into a block. You can make it into rectangles, squares, or even little shapes like flowers. The birdfolk love beautiful things, so I’m thinking of carving molds for them.”

Xiao Xian’s eyes lit up, “Brother Zhuo Yan, I actually understand this time!”

“Me too,” Aman added, rubbing his chin. Wait—wasn’t that something Xiao Xian usually said?

Zhuo Yan chuckled. “It’s just like bubble leaves. It’s for cleaning. I don’t have much to trade for salt, but the soap is light and useful. If it trades, great! If not, that’s okay too.”

“Won’t the tribe leader bring some salt back when he returns?” Shi Tou asked.

Zhuo Yan nodded. “Yes, but not much.”

With the pressure eased, Zhuo Yan felt more at peace, though Qiao reassured him, “I’m sure you’ll be able to trade the soap. The birdfolk love beauty, and while everyone has hides to trade, no one’s taken soap before. I think it’ll work.”

“Hehe, I hope so too,” Zhuo Yan said. He was optimistic, but the value of soap was still unknown. After all, everyone in the tribes was practical, and though it had the same cleaning properties as bubble leaves, the birdfolk would decide its worth. Across the four fur tribes, all their salt came from the birdfolk, and Zhuo Yan understood why salt was once monopolized.

After their break, they returned to the kiln.

They sprinkled some water over the packed dirt, ensuring it wasn’t too tightly sealed. A small vent was left for smoke, and an opening for lighting the fire. Soon, dry grass caught fire, and smoke began to rise from the earth mound.

“It’s lit, Brother Zhuo Yan!”

“Yep,” Zhuo Yan was crouched, feeding more wood into the fire to ensure the whole pile would catch.

As time passed, the initial thin wisps of smoke grew into thick, heavy plumes that rose high into the sky, drawing the attention of nearby sub-beasts who gathered to watch and chat in curiosity.

Seeing the smoke billowing, Zhuo Yan called out, “Seal the vent, block the air!” He quickly covered the ignition hole.

With prepared wet mud, they sealed the opening completely. The smoke, now trapped inside, could only escape faintly from the top. They’d have to keep watch—when the pile of earth started collapsing, that would be the sign that the charcoal was ready.

Zhuo Yan wiped the sweat off his brow. “That’s it. I’ll stay and keep an eye on it.”

“That’s all we have to do?” Aman asked, skeptical.

“Pretty much… I’ll monitor it.” Zhuo Yan had only seen this process once before, helping out in the village. It wasn’t all that complicated.

Just as he was about to relax, he looked up and froze. A crowd of sub-beastmen had gathered around them.

“Why are you burying the firewood in dirt, Zhuo Yan?” one asked.

“Yeah, what’s the point of doing this?” another chimed in.

“And it’s still smoking!”

Zhuo Yan recognized some of them by name—Ah Bai, Hua—and patiently explained, “I’m trying to make charcoal.”

Predictably, his explanation left everyone even more confused, leading to a flood of questions.

Aman, sensing Zhuo Yan’s growing frustration, waved his hand and loudly interrupted, “Enough with the questions! Zhuo Yan can’t explain it, and none of us really understand either. He dreamed about this idea, so we’re just trying it out for fun!”

“…Dreamed about it?” Zhuo Yan thought, Can we really say that?

But surprisingly, Aman’s explanation worked. As soon as the sub-beastmen heard it was a dream, they all nodded knowingly. “Oh, he’s just messing around then,” they said, and lost interest.

Unbelievable, Zhuo Yan thought as he watched the crowd disperse.

Sister Qiao laughed, amused by his expression. “It’s true. I once had a dream about eating berries, and when I went to the mountain, the berries were ripe and ready to eat.”

“Yeah, and some sub-beastmen dream about a beast tide coming, so they make their beastmen pee around their homes the next day to mark their territory,” she added with a grin.

Zhuo Yan blinked, “Wait, really?”

“Of course. Some even dream of finding red stones in the river. One poor guy searched for days and ended up bringing home berries instead!”

Zhuo Yan chuckled. So everything can be explained by dreams here, huh? Another trick up my sleeve!

Later in the afternoon, A-Yin returned from hunting, empty-handed. Worried that he might be feeling down, Zhuo Yan smiled and patted his head, trying to comfort him. Soon after, the sound of a gong echoed through the village.

“The hunting party is back!” Qiao cheered excitedly.

“Zhuo Yan, let’s go get our share of the meat!” Aman added, equally thrilled.

Zhuo Yan glanced at the earth mound. “No one will mess with this. Let’s go. I’ll come back to keep watch later.”

In the tribe, there was an unspoken rule that no one would trample on others’ things. Even though the sub-beastmen were curious, they respected boundaries. Zhuo Yan appreciated that about the leopard people.

This time, the hunting party had brought back baboons and tusked boars. Apparently, the baboons had caused quite a stir, as they’d interrupted the hunters during their pursuit of spotted horses. The baboons had laughed from the treetops, startling the herd and making them scatter. Infuriated, the young beastmen had caught the laughing baboons and beaten them up—but they hadn’t killed them since they were just babies.

The adult baboons later returned in a vengeful horde, attacking the hunters. Baboons were notorious for being both vindictive and relentless. Even large predators like lions and tigers avoided them when they were in groups. The battle had left the hunters scratched and bruised, forcing them to shift into their beast forms to protect themselves. Despite the chaos, they managed to catch several baboons and, by sheer luck, a tusked boar as well.

“Ah, no wonder they all came back in beast form!” one of the sub-beastmen commented.

“Yeah, some of them got scratched pretty badly,” another added. “Arri almost lost an eye!”

Zhuo Yan winced. That was dangerous. He and A-Yin continued to wait their turn for meat. When the line finally moved up, Zhuo Yan noticed a few of the beastmen nursing scratches on their faces. His mind wandered back to the snowy season when A-Yin had nearly been killed by a group of baboons. Zhuo Yan glanced down at A-Yin, who was standing close to him, tail wrapped protectively around his leg.

“Was it baboons that attacked you back then, A-Yin?” Zhuo Yan asked quietly.

“Awroo~” A-Yin wagged his tail, trying to reassure him. He wasn’t upset anymore, but he’d definitely get his revenge if he encountered them again.

That night, by the firelight, Zhuo Yan cradled A-Yin’s head in his lap, carefully checking his old scars. “Close your eyes, let me see,” he said softly, pushing aside the thick fur. The hair had grown back over the wound, though a faint scar remained underneath. Luckily, because A-Yin had been young, his body had healed well, leaving only a thin mark.

Zhuo Yan gently kissed the scar on A-Yin’s eyelid. “It’s all healed now, A-Yin. You’re okay.”

A-Yin, like an affectionate puppy, stuck his tongue out and smiled wide. He knew his brother liked seeing him happy like this.