Everyone looked at the freshly made charcoal. Even though no one had used charcoal before, its sound and texture were enough to tell them it was something valuable.
Qing Kuo turned to Wu Jiong and Jian Mo. “Will we be able to divide this?”
Jian Mo responded, “I don’t mind. Let Wu Jiong decide.”
Wu Jiong scanned the group and said, “We’ll keep one-third for the tribe’s use. The rest will be divided based on contribution.”
This was a fair method, and no one objected.
Qing Kuo quickly took charge, organizing the distribution of the charcoal.
As everyone handled the charcoal for the first time, they examined it with curious wonder.
Jian Mo helped with the distribution and reminded each person, “Don’t burn this in an enclosed space. You must leave a vent, or it’ll release poisonous fumes.”
The beastmen and sub-beastmen nodded in understanding. “Just like burning wood—if there’s no ventilation, it’s dangerous.”
Zhou Fu added bluntly, “Don’t worry. None of the houses here are sealed that tightly anyway.”
Remembering the drafty houses they had just patched up with mud, Jian Mo decided not to push the point further.
With the charcoal divided, Wu Jiong carried their household’s share back home.
Jian Mo inspected the newly delivered charcoal. “Can I burn some now?”
Wu Jiong asked, “For the Tuo Tuo beasts?”
“No not for them,” Jian Mo replied. “During the day, wood will do fine for them. I want to test it at home first to see how it works.”
Wu Jiong rummaged through the pile of odds and ends, pulling out an old, worn clay basin. “Use this.”
Jian Mo took the basin, layered some dried leaves at the bottom, and then carefully broke a piece of charcoal into smaller chunks, arranging them on top.
Using a fire starter, he lit the dried leaves. The flames quickly spread, and the charcoal ignited much faster than regular firewood.
It seemed the quality of the charcoal was excellent.
The two of them watched the charcoal burn without blinking.
The charcoal fire was warm, smokeless, and quiet. Unlike wood, it didn’t suddenly spark or pop, which had previously scorched Jian Mo’s clothes multiple times, leaving burn holes in nearly all his fur garments.
After a while, Wu Jiong remarked, “This charcoal was worth the effort.”
“Right? It burns longer than wood. It probably won’t go out until noon,” Jian Mo agreed.
Wu Jiong nodded. “We should chop more wet wood in the coming days and make more charcoal.”
Jian Mo had no objections but cautioned, “Don’t let charcoal-making delay other work.”
“It won’t,” Wu Jiong assured him. “We have to chop firewood anyway.”
“Chopping wood is one thing, but making charcoal is a lot more work,” Jian Mo pointed out.
“That’s just because we’re not used to it yet. The only tricky part is building the kiln, and a quick worker can finish it in no time,” Wu Jiong replied.
“That’s true,” Jian Mo conceded. “Call me when you go out next time.”
After breakfast, Wu Jiong prepared to lead a patrol and check the surrounding area, expecting to spend the entire day outside.
Before he left, Jian Mo called out to him. “Do you want roasted meat for dinner?”
Wu Jiong glanced at the meat hanging under the eaves, frowning slightly, clearly unenthusiastic.
Suppressing a laugh, Jian Mo added, “Not the tough, stringy kind that sticks in your teeth. I’m thinking of trying something new—grilled skewers.”
Wu Jiong’s expression softened. “Alright, let’s have that.”
Wu Jiong left shortly after, and Jian Mo stayed in the tribe to handle chores.
He took some tuber starch from a jar and marinated the meat with spices. Beast meat was usually tough, so it needed to be marinated for a day to become tender and flavorful.
By evening, it would be ready to grill.
After a busy day, Jian Mo checked the marinated meat. Satisfied with its condition, he began threading chunks of fatty and lean meat alternately onto skewers.
In addition to pure meat skewers, he prepared some with wood-root slices and sour fruit, along with vegetables and tubers. These combinations were less greasy and suited his taste better.
Grilling with charcoal was different from using wood.
Jian Mo placed the skewers around the charcoal fire without worrying about flames flaring up and burning them.
The steady heat from the charcoal gave the meat an even, golden-brown finish. The color was beautifully uniform.
As the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the air, it attracted a group of young ones.
Their eyes sparkled as they stared at the skewers, drool practically dripping from their mouths.
Jian Mo glanced at the little ones, then at Wu Jiong.
Silently, Wu Jiong waved them over, signaling he would share the meat.
A smile tugged at Jian Mo’s lips.
To his surprise, the little ones turned and bolted instead of approaching.
Stunned, Jian Mo asked Wu Jiong, “Are they scared of me or you?”
Wu Jiong replied, “They’ve never been afraid of me.”
“Well, they’ve never been afraid of me either,” Jian Mo said, then added with a laugh, “At least not yet.”
Wu Jiong picked up on the phrasing. “So they might fear you in the future?”
Jian Mo chuckled. “I’m a doctor. That happens sometimes. After a few treatments, they might start running when they see me.”
Wu Jiong, uncharacteristically curious about Jian Mo’s past work, remarked, “You’re really good at treating illnesses.”
Jian Mo replied, “That’s because everything I’ve handled so far has been minor. None of the treatments were painful. If something truly painful comes up, it’ll be a different story.”
“What’s the most painful kind?” Wu Jiong asked.
Jian Mo thought back to his previous patients. “Neutering, maybe?”
Wu Jiong looked puzzled.
Jian Mo rephrased it in simpler terms, “It’s when you… cut off the balls.”
Wu Jiong didn’t say a word, silently shifting his sitting position.
As they chatted, the little ones came running back, this time with smaller, unshifted younglings trailing behind them.
“Chief—Brother Jian Mo—” Jiang Xing, the leader of the group, panted as he ran up. “We brought food to trade for grilled skewers. Can we?”
Wu Jiong nodded.
Jian Mo smiled faintly. “Did your family let you bring this?”
Jiang Xing nodded earnestly. “My dad said food is scarce for everyone, so we can’t just mooch off others.”
Jian Mo accepted the food they brought and handed out skewers in exchange. For the unshifted younglings, he gave tiny portions, just a finger-sized piece, enough to let them taste it.
The little ones carried their food to the side, squatting by the fire pit and letting out exclamations of “Wow!” as they ate.
The skewers roasted over charcoal were crispy on the outside, tender inside, and free from the smoky, scorched flavor of wood fire. They carried only the rich aroma of grilled meat—delicious beyond comparison.
The younglings couldn’t keep quiet. Even as they ate, they chattered away.
Knowing that Jian Mo planned to use charcoal to fire pottery, Jiang Xing said, “Our tribe’s clay isn’t very good. The clay from the Dianxin Tribe is the best.”
Jian Mo, who had interacted with the Dianxin Tribe during the hunting festival and knew it was an agricultural powerhouse, chuckled. “Where’d you hear that?”
Jiang Xing replied, “My dad said it. He said the Dianxin Tribe’s clay makes beautiful, sturdy pottery that doesn’t crack easily, unlike ours.”
Jian Mo explained, “The pottery here cracks easily because it wasn’t shaped properly. Air bubbles might’ve been left inside, or the firing temperature wasn’t even.”
The little ones didn’t understand, insisting the Dianxin Tribe’s clay was simply superior.
Jian Mo turned to Wu Jiong, who met his gaze with a questioning look but didn’t refute the children’s belief.
With no better option, Jian Mo told them, “If I get the chance, I’ll visit the Dianxin Tribe and check it out.”
Charcoal proved to be incredibly useful. Jian Mo set a basin of charcoal in the animal shed at night, and it burned steadily until morning, sparing them the hassle of getting up to tend the fire.
The Tuo Tuo beast cubs were kept warm and cozy.
Seeing this, Wu Jiong organized the beastmen to chop more hardwood from the mountains during their free time. Jian Mo led the group in making several more batches of charcoal.
They became more skilled with each batch, and now, instead of dousing the fire with water, they sealed the kiln with mud when the time was right. This improved the charcoal’s quality significantly.
One day, as Jian Mo inspected freshly chopped trees, he said to Wu Jiong with concern, “How about replanting a few trees after cutting them down? I’m worried we’ll clear out all the hardwood around the tribe at this rate.”
Wu Jiong replied, “New sprouts will grow in spring. The trees will come back.”
After a pause, he added, “But planting more seeds is fine too. In a few years, they’ll be easier to harvest.”
Jian Mo nodded. “Exactly. We should aim for sustainable development. Let’s not destroy the forest around the tribe.”
Wu Jiong, grasping his point, nodded in agreement.
As the tribe focused on making charcoal, Jian Mo and his team applied a glaze to the pottery.
The dry winter air helped the glaze set quickly.
One day, after inspecting the dried pottery, Qing Kuo sent the younglings to call Jian Mo over, announcing that the pottery was ready for firing.
Everyone had been eagerly awaiting this moment. When they heard the news, they were visibly excited.
Seeing their enthusiasm, Jian Mo told them to prepare for firing the next day.
Today wouldn’t work—he still needed to finish making a simple hand-cranked fan and fix it to the ground. It wasn’t ready yet.
Zhou Fu and the others were confused. “Is that really necessary? Last time, we didn’t use a fan, and the pottery turned out fine.”
Jian Mo explained, “Last time, we used wood. This time, we’re using charcoal—it’s different. Besides, we’ve done so much prep already. If we do this step right, the success rate will be even higher.”
Qing Kuo asked, “How do we make the fan? Let’s do it together.”
Jian Mo didn’t refuse and led them to gather materials to make the hand-cranked fan.
These small devices were straightforward to build once you understood the principles.
By the end of the day, they had completed two fans—one primary and one backup.
*
The next morning, they transported the charcoal and began stacking the kiln for firing.
This time, they used a mix of nine parts charcoal to one part wood. As before, they left one vent at the top and three at the bottom.
With the fans added, the bottom vents were divided into one main vent and two auxiliary vents.
Too many vents would increase airflow but also cause heat to escape more quickly, which wasn’t ideal.
Everyone took turns cranking the fan handles. The charcoal in the kiln burned fiercely with the added oxygen.
Even those without much experience could feel the kiln was significantly hotter than when they’d used wood.
Wiping sweat from his brow, Qing Kuo said to Jian Mo, “If it weren’t for you, we might’ve never figured out how to make charcoal.”
Jian Mo was modest. “It’s not that impressive. New techniques like this eventually spread.”
Qing Kuo patted him on the shoulder but didn’t say more.
This was their first time using charcoal to fire pottery, and no one had much experience. They followed the same method as before, firing the kiln from morning until evening.
When they extinguished the fire that evening, Jian Mo noticed that the wet mud used to seal the kiln had hardened into something resembling pottery itself—proof of the kiln’s high temperature.
Fortunately, the cold winter air helped. By the next morning, the kiln had cooled enough that its surface was only warm to the touch.
Everyone eagerly began opening the kiln.
The simplicity of a one-time-use kiln lay in the fact that opening it only required dismantling the mud walls.
The beastmen and sub-beastmen, with their considerable strength, had the kiln open in a few swift moves.
Inside, scattered pottery shards lay on the ground. Among the fragments were intact or only partially cracked pieces, glowing with a gentle luster under the morning sun, so bright it almost dazzled the onlookers.
Everyone froze, some involuntarily opening their mouths in amazement.
“This is so smooth!” Zhou Fu’s already round eyes widened further. “I can’t believe clay can turn out like this.”
He reached out to touch one of the pottery pieces but jerked back immediately after getting burned.
His mate, Jiu Yin, quickly grabbed his wrist. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Zhou Fu said, showing his unscathed hand. “It’s just hot—hotter than the pottery fired with wood.”
Qing Kuo, snapping out of his astonishment, turned to Jian Mo. “You’re incredible.”
Jian Mo waved his hands humbly. “It’s not my achievement—it’s the product of techniques accumulated where I come from.”
Qing Kuo slung an arm around his shoulder. “Well, thank you for bringing this technique to our tribe.”
The others chimed in with agreement.
Jian Mo, hearing the praise all around, felt slightly embarrassed.
Ban Ming, standing nearby, added, “We should also thank the chief for bringing Brother Jian Mo to us.”
De Jiang laughed. “And we should thank you, kid, for running into Jian Mo, right?”
Ban Ming grinned cheekily. “If the tribe wants to reward me, I wouldn’t say no. Maybe with some pottery… or pottery shards.”
He quickly corrected himself, dodging a swipe from his father’s hand.
After giving his son a playful smack, Qing Kuo turned to Wu Jiong. “How should we distribute the pottery?”
As they discussed, the group had already counted the pieces.
Out of the kiln, there were 77 completely intact pieces and 123 usable but slightly cracked ones, mostly medium and small pottery items.
Wu Jiong, having thought it through, announced, “Each person involved in making the pottery gets two pieces. The rest will belong to the tribe. If anyone wants pottery, they can exchange food or other resources for it.”
Before he even finished speaking, Ban Ming raised his hand. “Chief, I want to trade for one! I’ll go grab some fur right now.”
Ye Luo added, “I’d like to trade for a plate as well. Once the pottery makers pick their pieces, I’ll trade. The tribe can tell me what they would like to exchange for and I’ll provide it.”
With the precedent set, many others expressed their interest, eager to trade for the pottery.
Wu Jiong decided that those who had helped with the pottery-making would pick their pieces first. Afterward, those wanting to trade could do so, with those offering more resources getting priority—a fair bidding system in its own right.
The tribe’s practices were always fair, so no one objected.
Wu Jiong’s allotted pieces went to Jian Mo, who chose four items: two jars, one clay pot, and a clay basin.
Except for the basin, the other three pieces were ones Jian Mo had made himself. Their surfaces were coated in a fine, reddish-brown glaze that perfectly suited his tastes.
He brought the pottery home, washed the two jars, and set them outside to dry. Then he transferred the fermented fruit mash into the jars.
The mash had been fermenting for a long time and now carried a faint alcoholic aroma.
Of course, the unmistakable fruit smell still lingered.
Jian Mo hoped the mash would yield a good amount of alcohol so he could distill some high-proof liquor—or even pure alcohol.
As Jian Mo carefully cleaned and stored the pottery, Wu Jiong silently observed, his gaze lingering on the shallow clay pot.
“What are you planning to do with this shallow pot?” Wu Jiong asked.
“You’ll see when it’s done,” Jian Mo replied cryptically. “I’m thinking of catching a few big fish. Want to come with me?”
The river outside hadn’t frozen, so fishing wasn’t difficult.
After a brief pause, Wu Jiong agreed. “Let’s catch a few extra for Chirpy.”
“Alright,” Jian Mo said. “I’ll pan-fry some fish for it.”
Having lived in this world for some time, Jian Mo had learned which fish were bony but flavorful and which were the opposite.
They specifically targeted the tastiest varieties.
Wu Jiong, quick and efficient, was the main force in catching fish.
Within no time, the two of them filled a bucket.
Back at home, Jian Mo selected a few large, plump fish and cleaned them carefully. The remaining fish were seasoned and lightly marinated before being pan-fried on a stone slab.
Once the fish were fried to a golden crisp, with bones softened, they were ready to be served to the winged beast, Chirpy.
As for the few large, plump fish, Jian Mo reserved the tender belly meat, cutting it into sizable chunks and lightly marinating them.
He then placed a large piece of beast fat in the shallow clay pot, followed by wood-root slices and spices, which he stir-fried until fragrant.
Once the aroma wafted out, he layered the marinated fish chunks over the wood root base, covered the pot, and poured a ring of fruit wine around the lid.
The clay pot’s high heat caused the wine to ignite instantly, producing a faint blue flame.
Jian Mo paid it no mind and continued stoking the charcoal fire underneath.
Wu Jiong watched with some concern. “Won’t the pot crack like this?”
“It won’t,” Jian Mo assured him. “This is nothing. If it didn’t crack in the kiln, it’s not likely to crack now.”
As the fruit wine burned off, an irresistible fragrance began to fill the air, tickling their noses.
Jian Mo took a deep breath. “Smells great, doesn’t it? Such a familiar aroma.”
After a bit more cooking, Jian Mo carefully removed the pot from the charcoal fire and lifted the lid.
A burst of steam greeted them, accompanied by an indescribably rich and savory scent. Wu Jiong’s gaze was glued to the fish inside.
As the steam dissipated, the glistening, tender white fish meat was revealed.
Wu Jiong had never seen fish cooked this way—it looked like it had just barely set.
Jian Mo beckoned him. “Quick, quick! Eat it while it’s hot.”
Wu Jiong picked up a piece, blew on it, and popped it into his mouth.
The fish seemed to melt on his tongue, dissolving into a flood of rich, savory flavors that filled his stomach with warmth.
So, fish could taste like this—not just fishy, dry, or bitter.
Jian Mo didn’t notice the expression on Wu Jiong’s face.
He, too, contentedly picked up a second piece.
The fish cooked in this clay pot wasn’t much different from what he’d had in the modern world.
Absolutely delicious.
It really was worth developing technology.
