Jian Mo stepped outside the house and realized it was snowing.
Fresh snow blanketed the earth, turning it into a vast expanse of white. His steps crunched satisfyingly with each step, and the sensation underfoot was delightful.
But the brightness was a bit harsh.
Unlike the local beastmen or sub-beastmen, Jian Mo’s pupils couldn’t adjust to changes in light.
He tilted his head to avoid the glaring white snow as he hurried towards the Tuo Tuo Beasts to check on them.
The Tuo Tuo beasts were indeed timid. The female beast was huddled to one side, preparing to give birth, while the male cowered, visibly trembling, apparently terrified of the birthing process.
Jian Mo checked on both of them and then called out to Wu Jiong with some exasperation. “Can you take the male somewhere else? If the female starts calling out, he will freak out again.”
Wu Jiong nodded and came over to lead the male beast away. “I’ll tie him up inside the house for now.”
“Good idea,” Jian Mo replied.
The female’s water had already broken. It flowed clear, untainted by any impurities, and her condition appeared stable. Though she panted uneasily, and her belly contracted occasionally, her vital signs were steady.
As an experienced veterinarian, Jian Mo chose not to interfere. He stayed nearby to observe.
Animals typically only need human assistance when there are complications. If everything seemed normal, it was best to let nature take its course.
After Wu Jiong secured the male Tuo Tuo beast indoors, he returned. “Anything else you need help with?”
“Can you bring a fire over here?” Jian Mo asked. “It’s pretty cold, and I’m worried the newborns might freeze.”
Wu Jiong agreed readily. “I’ll take care of it right away.”
Not only did Wu Jiong bring fire, but he also carried over a pile of dry grass. With the grass laid under the female beast, she no longer had to give birth on the freezing ground.
Jian Mo had a busy day ahead, so Wu Jiong took it upon himself to prepare their meal. After the two of them quickly ate a few bites, they continued monitoring the Tuo Tuo beasts.
Not long after breakfast, the birthing began.
The newborn beast was no bigger than a puppy, its body pink and covered in a layer of translucent fuzz. Its eyes were tightly shut as it let out piercing cries.
The female Tuo Tuo beast was evidently not a first-time mother. Once the baby was born, she gently took it into her mouth and began licking the mucus off its body.
Seeing her handle things well, Jian Mo sighed in relief.
If intervention had been necessary, there wouldn’t have been much he could do with their limited resources.
One by one, the babies were born.
The mother delivered six cubs in total. They were all about the same size—none particularly robust or particularly weak.
To Jian Mo’s surprise, once the mother had cleaned the cubs and fed them, she carried them onto her back, providing warmth with her body heat.
After confirming everything was fine, Jian Mo stepped out of the barn.
“How’s it looking?” Wu Jiong asked as he approached.
“No issues,” Jian Mo replied. “If there aren’t any surprises, the little Tuo Tuo beasts should all survive.”
He then inquired about the winged beast. “Has it been fed? How’s it handling the cold?”
The winged beast was quite large, and they hadn’t built a shelter for it yet, so it was living under a tree. When it rained heavily or there was thunder, Wu Jiong would lead it to a cave near the tribe for temporary refuge.
“It’s been fed,” Wu Jiong said. “Its appetite is good, and its fur is thick. It’s not feeling the cold.”
Relieved, Jian Mo said, “I’ll go check on it.”
When Jian Mo arrived, the winged beast was gnawing on a meat bone.
Perhaps because of their careful feeding, the winged beast had put on more weight recently. Its plump body gleamed with smooth, shiny fur.
Noticing Jian Mo’s approach, it called out excitedly, “Chirp chirp!”
Jian Mo patted its rear. “Go on, keep eating. I’ll give you extra rations tonight.”
Winter had only just begun, and there was still much work to do.
Jian Mo and Wu Jiong headed to the river to dig up some mud, mixing it with dry grass before applying it to the gaps in the stones.
They worked on sealing both the interior and exterior, ensuring the house was windproof by the time they were done.
While applying the mud, Jian Mo noticed traces of old mud in the stone gaps—leftovers from past years’ maintenance.
He tapped lightly on the old mud with his hand.
Though dried mud was quite sturdy and difficult to remove, it still couldn’t withstand the passage of time.
Weathering made annual repairs necessary.
The two worked tirelessly until dusk. With inadequate lighting, they had to stop and head inside for dinner and rest.
As promised, Jian Mo gave the winged beast an extra meal, preparing a pot of stewed meat mixed with dried grass and tubers stored by the tribe. The winged beast happily devoured it, completely unfazed by the weather.
It had been an exhausting day.
After checking on the Tuo Tuo beast cubs to ensure they were fine and confirming the fire basin was keeping them warm, Jian Mo climbed to bed.
He didn’t even feel the cold. He collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Jian Mo woke as usual.
It was snowing again outside. From the gaps in the window, he could see the blinding white landscape, bright even under the overcast sky.
It was cold and windy.
He put on his fur coat and boots without complaint about their weight or smell.
The first thing he did after getting up was check on the Tuo Tuo beasts.
The male had been brought back to the barn and was resting diagonally from the female.
The six cubs, seemingly full, were now sleeping soundly on the mother’s back.
The fire in the basin was still burning. The air in the barn was fresh, not stifling. Everything was fine.
After cleaning the barn and replacing the bedding with clean, thick straw, Jian Mo noticed the fire was dwindling. He decided to fetch more wood.
That’s when he realized something unusual.
The firewood in the basin wasn’t the wood he had put in yesterday.
He distinctly remembered placing a large tree branch there, but it was gone. Wu Jiong must have replaced it.
Carrying the basin outside, Jian Mo called to Wu Jiong under the eaves. “Did you add more wood last night?”
“Yes,” Wu Jiong replied. “The fire was dying out, so I replaced it twice.”
“Twice?!” Jian Mo was astonished.
Wu Jiong nodded. “The current firewood burns too fast. I’ll chop some slower-burning wood later so we’ll only need to replace it once at night.”
Jian Mo wasn’t an expert on firewood. “I’ll go with you then.”
Wu Jiong said, “It’s cold. You should stay at home.”
After breakfast, Wu Jiong indeed took a few beastmen to gather firewood.
Jian Mo, meanwhile, joined the other sub-beastmen at the open space. He planned to take this chance to turn the fabric he had exchanged during the hunting festival into clothing. Others were spinning thread, mending fur garments, and similar tasks.
Gathered together, chatting and warming themselves by the fire while working, the atmosphere was far from dull.
In the afternoon, Wu Jiong and the others returned, carrying thick and hefty logs on their beast-shaped backs.
Jian Mo stepped outside to inspect the haul and noticed that these logs were indeed different from regular firewood. He also observed that the two stone axes Wu Jiong had taken out were completely shattered.
Seeing Jian Mo’s gaze fall on the broken tools, Ban Ming explained, “These axes have been in use for a long time. They’re fragile now. If they hadn’t broken, we could’ve brought back even more wood.”
“You’ve worked hard,” Jian Mo said.
Ban Ming rubbed his jaw. “It’s nothing, but this firewood is so hard to chop. Halfway through, I lost patience and started biting it. Now my teeth are sore—I probably won’t even be able to eat meat tonight.”
Qing Kuo patted Ban Ming’s shoulder. “Stop whining. You learned your lesson—don’t use your teeth to chop wood next time.”
“Come on, Dad,” Ban Ming pleaded, hanging onto Qing Kuo’s shoulder. “How about stewing some soft noodle cakes tonight? I can eat those.”
Hearing this, Jian Mo glanced at Wu Jiong.
Wu Jiong, wearing only a simple fur skirt, stated flatly, “I didn’t bite it.”
Jian Mo said, “Oh. Got it.”
Wu Jiong said, “I’m going to bathe first. Then I’ll deal with the firewood.”
When Jian Mo saw Wu Jiong grab some soap and head outside, he stopped him in surprise. “It’s snowing. Are you really going to bathe in the river?”
“That’s how we’ve always done it,” Wu Jiong replied. “It’s fine.”
“Even if it’s fine, bathing in cold water during this season is still freezing!” Jian Mo protested.
Even if Wu Jiong was a massive wolf, Jian Mo couldn’t bear the thought of him bathing in freezing water, just as he wouldn’t let a regular dog endure such treatment.
Pulling Wu Jiong back, Jian Mo insisted, “Let’s heat up some water instead. You can wash more thoroughly with warm water.”
Wu Jiong opened his mouth to speak, but Jian Mo immediately guessed he was about to refuse. He quickly added, “I need to bathe too. It’s been two days, and I smell like Tuo Tuo beasts.”
Hearing this, Wu Jiong relented. “I’ll fetch the water.”
By the time the two finished their baths and settled by the hearth, the night had already fallen.
The firelight illuminated Jian Mo’s face, highlighting his sharp features and making his thoughtful expression even more apparent.
Wu Jiong paused, then sat down beside the hearth. “What’s on your mind?”
Jian Mo snapped out of his thoughts. “I was thinking about charcoal.”
Wu Jiong had heard him mention charcoal before but never asked much about it. “What is it?”
Organizing his thoughts, Jian Mo explained, “It’s sort of like the blackened chunks left over after we burn firewood. If you burn away the impurities, the remaining charcoal burns hotter and lasts longer. It’s a very useful material.”
Drying his hair with a cloth, Jian Mo added, “If we had charcoal, we wouldn’t need to wake up in the middle of the night to replace the Tuo Tuo beasts’ firewood.”
Wu Jiong replied, “It’s no trouble. I just go back to sleep right after.”
“But it’s still tiring,” Jian Mo said, pausing. “Do you remember the pottery we fired?”
Wu Jiong nodded.
“I think the issue is that the fire wasn’t hot enough,” Jian Mo continued. “The pottery we made is thin, brittle, and not very durable. If we could reach higher temperatures, we might not have to fire new pottery every season. The quality would also improve—at least it wouldn’t leak water.”
Wu Jiong understood. “You want to burn charcoal first, then fire the pottery.”
Jian Mo nodded. “Charcoal is very useful. And since we don’t have much to do in winter, it’s a good time to experiment. The materials are already here—we can use the trees you just chopped down.”
Wu Jiong reminded him, “The wood I brought back is wet. It’ll need to dry before we can burn it.”
“Charcoal is actually made using wet wood,” Jian Mo explained. “Dry wood doesn’t work as well.”
With Jian Mo eager to try, Wu Jiong discussed the matter with Qing Kuo.
Though Qing Kuo hadn’t fully understood the concept of charcoal when Jian Mo first mentioned it, he now saw its potential. “It sounds very useful. I’ll make sure everyone involved keeps it a secret, and you do the same with the others in the tribe.”
Wu Jiong nodded. “Understood.”
Qing Kuo grew excited. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll ask Jian Mo how to do it, and we’ll start as soon as possible.”
Jian Mo had only a partial understanding of charcoal-making. He knew the key was smoldering the wood—letting it burn incompletely in low oxygen to leave behind charcoal.
When Qing Kuo came to ask, Jian Mo explained, “It’s probably similar to firing pottery. The difference is that you leave fewer air vents so the wood can smolder slowly instead of burning completely. You also need to extinguish the fire in time before the wood is fully burned.”
Qing Kuo’s eyes lit up. “How do we extinguish it? Pour water on it?”
Jian Mo wasn’t sure. “That might work. Let’s try using water first. If it doesn’t, we’ll think of another method.”
“Then let’s start today,” Qing Kuo suggested.
“No, no, no,” Jian Mo quickly refused, not expecting him to be so straightforward. “To make charcoal, you need to use damp wood, preferably hardwood, as that produces better quality charcoal. And after making the charcoal, I want to use it to fire a batch of pottery. Should we prepare the clay first?”
Qing Kuo asked, “Wasn’t the last batch of pottery usable?”
Jian Mo tactfully replied, “We could make even better ones.”
“Fine. Let’s start with the clay,” Qing Kuo agreed. “I’ll have the beastmen chop down more trees.”
This second round of pottery-making was much smoother for Jian Mo, as he had gained experience. His work looked more refined.
Watching him work, Zhou Fu remarked, “You’re so skilled, Jian Mo. These clay pieces barely need any adjustments.”
Jian Mo looked up. “The clay mix is good this time.”
“True, this clay is excellent,” Zhou Fu said, then pointed at one of Jian Mo’s pieces. “But what’s that? It looks a bit unusual.”
Jian Mo held it up. “A shallow casserole pot.”
Zhou Fu blinked in confusion. “What’s that?”
Qing Kuo replied, “He said it’s a pot, so it must be some kind of cooking tool, right?”
Jian Mo was famous for his delicious cooking, so no one found it strange that he was making a pot. They only thought this one seemed a bit shallow, likely incapable of holding much. If used for cooking, the broth and oil might splatter out.
Carefully smoothing the pot’s outer surface, Jian Mo reassured them, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Everyone dropped the matter.
The beastmen returned with more firewood.
This time, they broke even more stone axes, but the results were clear—a large pile of hardwood now stood in the clearing.
Jian Mo led everyone in chopping the long logs into uniform segments before declaring they were ready to start burning them.
The group was nervous, afraid that if the process went wrong, the wood would all turn to ash, wasting everyone’s efforts.
Jian Mo felt the same unease but put on a brave face, reassuring everyone that it would be fine.
He instructed them to stack the wood as if building a pottery kiln, then use mud to seal it into a dome shape.
This time, they didn’t create as many ventilation holes. They only left one small hole at the bottom and another at the top to allow minimal airflow—just enough to keep the wood inside burning.
Since the firewood was wet, they used dried leaves and kindling at the bottom to ignite it.
Once lit, the fire caught smoothly, and a trail of black smoke began curling out from the hole at the top of the kiln.
“How long do we burn it?” Qing Kuo asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jian Mo admitted. “I’ll keep an eye on it and decide when it looks ready.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Qing Kuo offered.
Jian Mo quickly refused. “No need, I can handle this. You can go take care of your other tasks.”
“There’s nothing urgent,” Qing Kuo replied. “I’ll bring some thread and weave fabric here. It’s just as good as working elsewhere.”
Jian Mo thought for a moment. “In that case, I’ll also grab some cloth and sew while I’m here. It’s warm next to the kiln anyway.”
With the ventilation at the top of the dome, sitting nearby wouldn’t expose them to smoke.
On this cold, windy day, sitting sheltered from the wind, warmed by the kiln, and doing some work felt quite cozy.
Gradually, more of the tribe joined them.
Beastmen and sub-beastmen alike brought tasks—spinning, weaving, and mending clothes—creating a bustling atmosphere around the kiln.
Inside the dome, the fire burned steadily, sending plumes of smoke into the air.
Since this was Jian Mo’s first attempt at making charcoal, he had no idea when it would be ready and kept watch.
Qing Kuo and the others offered to help monitor, so the group stayed together by the kiln.
By evening, Qing Kuo said, “The charcoal should be done.”
Jian Mo turned to look at the kiln, unsure. “Already?”
Qing Kuo nodded and explained, “I can smell it.”
Jian Mo looked at him, then at the kiln. “You can tell just by smelling?”
Zhou Fu chimed in eagerly, “Yes! I smelled it too. The smoke has a different scent now.”
To prove his point, Zhou Fu transformed his nose into its beast form and sniffed again. “See? It doesn’t have that damp, earthy smell anymore.”
Jian Mo sniffed the air but couldn’t detect any difference in the smoke’s scent.
Hesitant, he asked, “Are you sure?”
Zhou Fu insisted, “Absolutely! I cook every day. Wet wood and dry wood smell completely different when burned. This smoke no longer smells like wet wood.”
Trusting them, Jian Mo decided, “Alright, let’s put out the fire.”
Zhou Fu rolled up his sleeves. “Do we just pour water in?”
Jian Mo nodded. “Yes, pour it in. The residual heat inside will evaporate the water. It’ll be fine.”
He picked up a bucket of water and poured it slowly through the vent, extinguishing the fire within.
The cold water sizzled as it met the hot kiln, but thankfully, there were no explosions.
Relieved, Jian Mo gazed at the kiln.
This kiln was still rudimentary. If they planned to use kilns regularly in the future, they would need to build a more permanent one.
Jian Mo was somewhat familiar with this process, having seen it during a tour in the past.
With the fire extinguished, the smoke stopped billowing from the top.
“Now we just wait?” Qing Kuo asked.
“Yes,” Jian Mo replied. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll open the kiln, just like we do with pottery.”
After tidying up, Jian Mo headed home.
Upon returning, his first task was to check on the Tuo Tuo beasts.
They were doing well. Both the mother and the cubs were in good condition, though he couldn’t collect milk from the mother yet.
The milk was for the cubs, their main source of nourishment. If Jian Mo took it, the cubs would starve.
He would have to wait until the cubs were a month old, then continue carefully managing the mother’s diet to maintain her milk supply.
When Wu Jiong returned and saw Jian Mo, he asked, “How’s the charcoal coming along?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Jian Mo replied. “We’ll know once we open the kiln tomorrow morning. Want to come with me?”
Wu Jiong nodded. “I’ll get up early.”
Charcoal was entirely Jian Mo’s idea. Though Wu Jiong and Qing Kuo supported the effort, some in the tribe were skeptical.
After all, if you wanted charcoal, couldn’t you just use the remnants from a regular fire? Why go through all this trouble?
Jian Mo’s growing reputation in the tribe meant no one voiced their doubts openly. Still, when the kiln was set to open, many showed up early, eager to see the results.
Jian Mo was used to the tribe gathering for such events. Seeing the crowd, he didn’t think much of it.
He and Wu Jiong waited near the kiln for Qing Kuo and De Jiang to arrive.
Once everyone was present, Jian Mo gave a quick look around and said, “Let’s open it.”
“I’ll do it,” Qing Kuo volunteered, clearly curious. “I want to see how the charcoal turned out. If it burned completely, I’ll know to extinguish the fire earlier next time.”
Jian Mo smiled. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
The group quickly peeled away the outer layer of mud, revealing the blackened wood inside.
The charcoal was long, perfectly retaining the shape of the wood pieces from the day before.
Not only were the charcoal pieces long, but their surfaces were also smooth and even slightly reflective.
The texture was entirely different from regular firewood or the remnants of burned wood in the hearth.
Qing Kuo picked up a piece. It felt heavy in his hand, even denser than the wet wood they had started with.
When he lightly tapped two pieces together, they produced a crisp, stone-like sound.
Qing Kuo exclaimed in awe, “How is this possible?”
Jian Mo lifted his head slightly. “That’s how high-quality charcoal is. It looks like this batch was a success.”
“Unbelievable!” Qing Kuo marveled. “I’ve been burning wood for decades, and this is the first time I’ve made charcoal like this. Amazing. You said it burns for a long time—so it must produce really intense heat, right?”
Jian Mo nodded. “It should.”
Zhou Fu eagerly leaned in from the side. “Does this mean we can fire pottery now?!”
Jian Mo replied with a confident smile, “I think so.”
