Hu Jiao Jiao explained the process for making charcoal to the chief.

“So, you’re saying that if we burn wood in a specific way, it can last longer?” the chief asked, visibly amazed.

“Yes, Chief. It needs to be burned in a special way,” Hu Jiao Jiao nodded, about to elaborate when the chief, looking enlightened, interrupted her.

“I see! It must be the Beast God guiding you in your dreams again. Truly, you are the tribe’s blessing! With you here, the Beast God shows us favor.”

The chief patted her shoulder with pride, his face full of gratitude.

Hu Jiao Jiao thought to herself, “Well, this makes explaining things a lot easier.” The chief’s assumptions made it simpler, as he readily accepted her explanations without question.

“Hu Jiao Jiao, I’ll leave the charcoal-making to you, then. Tell me whatever supplies you need, and we can start whenever you’re ready,” the chief said eagerly.

Hu Jiao Jiao explained the steps to create charcoal, feeling both optimistic and cautious. “To make charcoal, we’ll need to build a small mud kiln and gather lots of wood—fresh-cut logs will work, both big and small pieces.”

“Understood. I’ll arrange everything right away,” the chief said without hesitation, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Hu Jiao Jiao wanted to set realistic expectations. “Chief, I’m not sure if we’ll succeed the first time…”

But the chief cut her off with a reassuring smile, “No worries, Hu Jiao Jiao. Even if it doesn’t work the first time, just knowing how is a gift in itself. The Beast God’s gifts aren’t always simple. You’ve already done so much by sharing this with us!”

His confidence in her put her at ease, and she smiled in return, grateful to have such a supportive chief.

…

That night, Hu Jiao Jiao felt unusually tired and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. In the foggy depths of her dreams, she opened her eyes to find herself lying on a vast frozen lake. A thick layer of ice covered the water, smooth and pearly white beneath her hands, sending chills through her skin.

“Where is this? How did I get here?” Hu Jiao Jiao whispered, feeling a sense of tension as she looked around. The lake was enveloped in a layer of white mist, as if it wore a veil, adding an eerie, mystical touch to the silent surroundings.

The whole world felt empty, devoid of any other living being, as though she were the last person left on earth.

Suddenly, she heard a faint cracking sound.

“What’s that noise?” she muttered, tense and alert, moving toward the direction of the sound. Strangely, the mist seemed to shift as she walked, clearing slightly with each step. Before long, she reached the lake’s edge, where a breathtaking view awaited her.

Amid the mist, countless delicate white flowers—misty and ethereal—were blooming along the shore. The blossoms appeared fragile and icy, as if the lake itself had birthed a frozen garden. Hu Jiao Jiao noticed that as each flower petal landed on the frozen lake, it made a distinct sound.

Bending down, she picked up a petal. It was cold and rigid, surprising her. Curious, she lightly touched her tongue to it.

“Salty!” she exclaimed in amazement, gripping the petal in disbelief.

These weren’t flowers—they were salt crystals!

Hu Jiao Jiao had once seen a TV documentary about a salt lake where unique salt flowers formed due to the specific environmental conditions. Such crystals were known as salt blooms, the purest and most flavorful form of salt.

Staring at the vast salt lake with its seemingly endless salt blooms, she felt a thrill of excitement. If she could bring this salt to the tribe, they would never have to worry about salt again!

But… where was she?

Hu Jiao Jiao’s elation slowly turned to confusion as she took in her surroundings, the lake shrouded in mist. The white haze lifted, revealing rolling clouds on the horizon and a red dawn breaking over the sky. Slowly, a brilliant sun began to rise in the east.

“The east…” she murmured, watching the sunrise. Just then, mournful howls of a fox and the sorrowful roar of a dragon echoed across the lake, mingling with the distant cries of other creatures.

She wanted to see what was happening but suddenly felt herself being pulled down, as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet. She was engulfed in darkness.

“Mom! Mom, are you alright?”

A soft, worried voice brought her back to reality. Hu Jiao Jiao opened her eyes to see Ling’er’s anxious face hovering over her, along with her other little ones gathered around, their eyes full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, feeling groggy as she sat up slowly.

“Mom, you slept for so long! We were afraid you wouldn’t wake up,” Ling’er said, her wide almond-shaped eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Hu Jiao Jiao glanced outside and realized that the sun was already high in the sky. It was no wonder her children had been worried; she usually woke up much earlier.

“Mother’s fine—just overslept, that’s all. There’s nothing to worry about,” she reassured them, gently stroking Ling’er’s hair.

“Where’s your father?” she asked.

“Dad left before sunrise to hunt and haul building materials,” Ling’er answered obediently.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Long Zhong asked, frowning as he looked her over with skepticism.

Hu Jiao Jiao chuckled, tapping his forehead lightly. “No, Mother’s healthy. No need to worry.”

He snorted, wiping at his brow with a slightly embarrassed look. “I’m not worried about you! I just don’t want to end up burying you.”

Hu Jiao Jiao laughed softly, feeling a strange warmth. The dream from earlier came back to her, the salt lake lingering in her mind. Smiling, she gently pinched Ling’er’s soft cheeks, murmuring as if to herself:

“Mother has good news for you all…”