Chapter 126
Casting a fishing net is like an art for experienced hands, but for beginners, it’s a pitiful sight. Jiang Jitang tried several times in a row and ended up in utter embarrassment. Yet the warriors seemed to have some strange innate talent—every time they threw the net, it unfurled perfectly.
A few of them even happily remarked that it was easier than using a tripwire.
He surrendered. This was clearly the domain of close-combat experts.
Carrying the net and the dugout canoe, these people set off cheerfully.
Once they left, Jiang Jitang took out a two-piece stone mill and a bag of wheat. “Who wants to help me grind this wheat into flour? Grind enough for one bowl, and the reward is three dried dates each.”
The remaining people’s eyes lit up instantly.
On the flatlands, the Otter Tribe was bustling with activity.
This mysterious visitor was using exceptionally sweet fruits to entice the tribe to work for him. They had no complaints—in fact, they thought him unusually generous.
Sweetness was a luxury embedded in their genes. Such fruit, even in the larger tribes, was a rare delicacy only brought out occasionally for trade. Now they could obtain it just by helping a little.
On the plains, twenty fires had already been lit, and the sea turtle shells that would serve as bowls had all been washed with seawater. Man, the sister of the tribe chief, followed Jiang Jitang closely, listening to every instruction.
The chief’s sister had taken warriors out hunting, and another group went gathering fruit. Apart from the warriors guarding the home, the remaining people were old or weak. But the tasks Jiang Jitang provided were simple enough that even the tribe’s toddlers could help.
She thought the divine envoy was deliberately giving them blessings in a respectful way.
Jiang Jitang, busy selecting suitable sea turtle shells, had no idea what she was imagining.
These turtle shells would serve as bottom pots. The seawater inside would be boiled, and the steam would go into the steam cookers to make a proper soup. So the size of the shells mattered—they had to be neither too big nor too small.
He had fifty steam cookers, but only this many suitable bottom pots, so he could only use twenty cookers. He feared that even twenty suitable bottom pots might not be enough.
Fortunately, the Otter Tribe had stayed here for years and had accumulated plenty of turtle shells. After careful selection, he found almost exactly twenty suitable ones.
With the fires ready and stoves built from stones, and the cookware prepared, all that remained was the ingredients.
During this interval, Jiang Jitang observed the non-warrior members of the tribe.
Among them, only half bore the otter totem; the others had different totems, and their eyes did not glow blue.
“Man, do you know where the cannibal tribe that attacked you earlier is now?”
Man was puzzled by his curiosity but shook her head after thinking: “After they raid, they enter the dense forest. Any tribe would attack if they saw the cannibals, so they dare not appear casually.”
The cannibal tribe was despised by everyone on this continent. They usually hid in harsh environments and only struck when desperate for food, targeting smaller tribes, and disappearing immediately after killing and looting.
“No need to worry, Divine Envoy. The cannibal tribe has been forsaken by the gods. They cannot use divine power, nor can they reproduce. Most of them will die in the coldest season.”
Just then, there was a commotion—those who had gone to the sea for fishing had returned with the items Jiang Jitang requested.
“Divine Envoy! Divine Envoy!”
The flatland warriors, sharp and alert, immediately recognized this man as a visitor from the heavens, addressing him as “Divine Envoy.” Jiang Jitang felt a bit uneasy.
But seeing the precious grains of wheat they brought themselves, the exquisitely crafted, mysterious cookware, and the never-before-tasted sweet fruits, he relaxed. The Otter Tribe was remote and small; there was nothing to worry about.
The warriors had returned with a boatload of seafood. It was the first time they had hunted so much in such a short time, and the item with gemstone weights was truly invaluable.
Yet even treasures borrowed from someone else were returned reluctantly by the warriors.
Jiang Jitang stored the items and, before the warriors could feel disappointed, brought out four identical bronze knives. “I need five people to process these ingredients. You must be steady and careful.”
“Gold… gold tools!” The warriors’ eyes widened. Such fine items—there were four more, all golden, gleaming like the sun.
A dagger made of gold?
The chief had seen a lion tribe leader wear a bit of gold during a trade meeting. These people had only heard of it, but now they could actually see it.
Five warriors stepped forward with bronze knives. Under Jiang Jitang’s direction, they carefully processed the fish: cleaning, removing innards and scales, separating meat from bones and skin, chopping the meat finely, and pounding it into paste.
Others collected the fish bones and skin, placing them into the steam cookers, which already contained a shallow layer of fresh water.
Man watched in fascination. In fact, the chief’s sister had secretly told her how to make fishless fish soup: cut the fish meat, put it in water to cook, same with bird meat.
The hardest part was “cooking the soup with seawater.” Man’s idea was to add water-rich foods to dilute the seawater flavor.
“If the seawater in the turtle shells decreases, add more. Don’t let it dry.” Turtle shells could only hold a small amount of water, so someone had to monitor them.
Jiang Jitang checked the time. “I’m going to collect some wild vegetables nearby. Can two people help?”
“Lin willing!” “I am willing!” Several people responded immediately.
The system provided precise locations, right next to the Otter Tribe territory. Jiang Jitang led the team and found the wild onions and garlic in under half an hour.
These primitive varieties didn’t grow well, and in hand looked no different from wild grass, but their scent was still potent.
They collected two full baskets and washed them in seawater before returning.
Jiang Jitang instructed them on handling these strongly scented ingredients.
The fish brought by boat had been processed; the minced fish meat filled a large turtle shell. At the same time, the hunting party returned with seabirds and many sea bird eggs found on the cliffs.
Jiang Jitang cracked the eggs, leaving only the liquid, pouring half into the fish paste, then added a handful of flour that had been ground three times, stirring it evenly.
The steam cookers already had half a basin of water. He removed fish heads, bones, and fins, leaving only skin and stock. Then he added the prepared fish paste with a wooden spoon, one scoop at a time…
Initially, he made uneven fish balls, but he quickly became proficient, with each ball nearly identical in size.
The bird meat was also pounded into paste by the warriors, combined with the remaining half of the egg liquid and fine flour, stirred thoroughly as Jiang Jitang had done.
“Try it yourself.”
“Man?” Nervous, Man asked, “I can do it too?”
“I’ll teach you. It’s not hard.”
Man crouched by the stove, carefully scooping bird paste. Each small ball dropped into boiling water sank first, then floated when cooked.
Meanwhile, Jiang Jitang added fine salt and chopped wild onions and garlic into each steam cooker. The strong aromas stimulated the tribe’s appetite—they didn’t know the flavors but their stomachs responded eagerly.
By noon, an unprecedented fragrance filled the Otter Tribe territory. Jiang Jitang announced, “It’s ready to eat.” Everyone cheered—they had waited for this moment as if time itself dragged.
They used crab and shell bowls, and Jiang Jitang gave each person a fish ball and a meat ball. For the smaller ones, he gave an extra.
With the aromatic herbs added, the soup tasted incredibly fresh. There was no off-flavor, only pure savory goodness—so fresh that even Jiang Jitang was surprised.
It seemed even better than the seafood he had tasted in Xia City.
The fish and meat balls had a slight imperfection—ideally they would include egg white and starch—but otherwise, it was perfect.
For the Otter Tribe, who had never tasted such sweet, rich seafood, it was a revelation.
The soup carried the scent of fish and aromatic herbs, with pure saltiness and no bitterness.
The balls were tender and springy—children and elders alike could eat them, even with only a few teeth remaining.
“Do you want to eat more tonight? Then we’ll hunt more ingredients. This time, each bowl will have four—no, five balls.”
The tribe members looked at Jiang Jitang, then at their own hands—five fingers’ worth?
The whole territory buzzed with excitement. Those who had helped collect wild onions and garlic pounded their chests, promising to gather more aromatic herbs.
With all the tasks distributed, Jiang Jitang had free time. He took out an ocarina and played at the entrance. The sound was distant and gentle, like the calm sea soothing them.
The warriors paused their work, observing the unusual figure.
From the first moment, they knew he was a completely different kind of human. Handsomer than the large tribe’s marriage candidates, yet his eyes revealed he was not a “delicate, expensive gift.”
Man placed her hands on her chest, fully convinced that this divine envoy had come for her. Even if her people ultimately could not accept them, this legendary experience would be enough for a lifetime.
She looked at the others and saw a new spark in their eyes—satisfied and honored even while working.
They were people blessed by the gods.
By evening, the chief’s sister returned with the hunting warriors and gatherers. She was surprised by an unfamiliar fragrance in the air—somewhat like fish, yet completely different and not foul.
Then she saw the remaining warriors surrounding a stranger, and the tribe members naturally gravitated toward him.
The chief and the other warriors stood at the entrance, stunned. No one noticed them for several minutes.
Soon, they also tasted the fish and meat balls and drank the delicious, pure broth—made from both fish and bird bones.
The chief sipped the hot broth, watching the stranger bathed in the sunset light, his peculiar clothes glinting. He carried a strange bowl, chatting and laughing with the others.
Unique, yet harmonious.
“Chief.”
The chief glanced up, seeing the tribe’s most skilled craftsman, Xiu, and smiled. “What is it?”
“Chief, the Divine Envoy’s artifacts—Xiu may be able to recreate them.”
“Really?” The chief tried to keep her voice low, excitement on her face.
“They could be five or six parts accurate.” Xiu did not exaggerate. Though the objects seemed simple and the envoy allowed close observation, without reference, even five or six parts similarity was difficult.
“That’s enough.” The chief patted her thigh, her eyes sparkling. Then she asked, “The soup task is complete—will you accept the remnants of the old tribe?” Though phrased as a question, she reminded them to honor the agreement.
“You and your sister were always one family,” Xiu said.
The chief was satisfied. Without waiting for everyone to finish eating, she stood, took Man by the hand, and personally announced that Man’s remnants would join the Otter Tribe, receiving the same treatment as the others.
Previously, the original tribe members might have been slightly upset, but after tasting the soup and the delicious food, they were entirely content, even thinking: if only they had arrived earlier.
As both sides celebrated, some even singing, Jiang Jitang suddenly said, “To celebrate your sister tribes’ union, all these items used today are a gift to the Otter Tribe.”
The remaining thirty steamers, the gem-weighted fishing net, leftover salt, unfinished dates, and bronze knives all appeared on the ground.
“These are my gifts, my blessings to the Otter Tribe.”
The chief gripped her hand tightly, calming herself.
“Thank you, Divine Envoy.” Whether his promise was spontaneous or premeditated, it had to be honored. Such fine items could not be missed—when chief, pride must be set aside.
Jiang Jitang understood her intentions and merely nodded with a smile.
With a nod, the matter was settled. The tribe erupted with excitement. Young warriors enthusiastically ran over, asking him to dance, while others tidied the spent firewood for a large bonfire.
As the bonfire celebration was about to begin, Jiang Jitang took out a camera.
He wanted to share everything.
Not long after, Parsons, during a break from battle training, received a message. Removing his blindfold, he saw a row of muscular, sun-kissed dark-skinned men and women, with two words underneath:
“Memories.”
