Transmigrated to the Beastman World as a Veterinarian – CH31

The He’an Tribe had already burned charcoal several times.

Charcoal production wasn’t particularly technical; as long as one mastered the control of heat, avoiding under or overburning, it was manageable. Consequently, those who had participated in past burns had learned the skill quite well.

With everyone dividing the work, the tribe quickly began another round of charcoal burning.

That morning, Jian Mo got up early to check the fish traps.

By the river, the kiln’s charcoal fire had long gone out, leaving a faint smoky scent lingering in the air.

Breathing in the aroma, Jian Mo felt it was the scent of abundance, uplifting his mood.

With the tribe producing charcoal and preparing to fire pottery in a few days, they would soon have no shortage of ceramic containers.

If things went smoothly, he might soon have a clay jar or vat to pickle some vegetables.

Currently, all he had were basic salted vegetables. With the right containers, he could start fermenting pickles.

Pickled pancakes, pickled stew, or pickled meat—all delicious dishes to diversify their meals.

Jian Mo strolled leisurely along the riverbank. The morning frost lay evenly on the ground, crunching under his feet.

Looking around, the landscape was a blanket of white, with the occasional brown tips of withered trees poking out from under the mountain snow.

The snow atop the mountain was even thicker, its golden hues reflecting the morning light.

The scenery was so serene that Jian Mo gazed into the distance, deeply inhaling the crisp, cold air.

When he thought about it, life here wasn’t that much worse than on Earth.

Earth had abundant resources and advanced industries, but its pressures were immense. People weren’t necessarily as content as the beastmen and sub-beastmen here.

Jian Mo consoled himself, carrying a sturdy wooden stick as he briskly headed to the spot where he’d placed his fish traps.

The traps were still there, but they were frozen under a layer of water.

Fortunately, he’d already cracked the ice the day before, so only a thin sheet had formed. A light tap with his stick broke the surface, revealing the fish traps beneath.

He pulled the traps out and quickly emptied his catch onto the riverbank.

“One, two, three, four…”

Today’s haul included four fish, three shrimp, and two small shellfish.

Jian Mo picked up one of the fish, “Pretty plump.”

Drawing out a shell knife from his waist, he quickly cleaned the fish at the riverbank, removing its guts and gills. He tossed the scraps back into the fish traps and set them back into the water.

The smell of the guts would attract aquatic creatures, ensuring another harvest if luck was on his side tomorrow.

The riverside air was chilly, and Jian Mo couldn’t linger for long. He washed his cleaned fish and shrimp and hurried home.

When Jian Mo returned home, Wu Jiong was just arriving as well. Seeing the fish and shrimp in Jian Mo’s hands, Wu Jiong readily took them. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Jian Mo explained, “I just put water on to boil. Since you weren’t back yet and there wasn’t much to do, I went ahead and collected the traps.”

The two entered the house, with Jian Mo heading straight for the firepit to warm up.

Once warmed, he used a poker to retrieve some roasted tubers buried in the ashes. He set them aside to prevent them from overcooking and turning to charcoal.

After dealing with the tubers, he looked up, “How about fried cured meat and roasted fish for breakfast, with a side of beast milk?”

Wu Jiong nodded. “Sounds good.”

Jian Mo added, “We’re running low on fodder. After breakfast, we’ll need to gather some grass for Chirpy.”

Wu Jiong agreed without fuss. “Let’s head to the Green Marsh Source. The area hasn’t frozen over much, so gathering grass will be easier.”

Winged beasts had large appetites and required a substantial amount of food daily.

Thankfully with Chirpy not being tied down, it foraged its own food, leaving them responsible for additional meals only—a manageable task.

Otherwise, keeping a winged beast through winter would have been a nightmare.

As they were eating breakfast, a knock came at the door.

Jian Mo, holding his bowl, looked up to see Qing Kuo entering from outside.

Jian Mo greeted him, “Qing Kuo, have you eaten?”

Qing Kuo waved him off. “I’ve eaten. I’m not here to mooch breakfast. I just came to tell you that today’s charcoal batch is ready for collection. We’ll be firing another batch by evening. Do you want to check the kiln? Also, didn’t you mention testing glazes? Shouldn’t you try it now?”

Jian Mo nodded as he resumed his meal. “I’ll head over in a bit. It should be fine to test the glazes now. Since we’ll fire tonight, I’ll mix the glazes later.”

“How many glazes do you have?” Qing Kuo asked.

“Sixteen or seventeen? I’ll know for sure after I mix them,” Jian Mo replied.

With the pottery kiln on his mind, Jian Mo quickly finished breakfast and headed to the kiln area with Wu Jiong.

They had burned several batches of charcoal, refining the kiln after each firing.

By now, after six rounds, the kiln was in excellent shape, looking like something Jian Mo had envisioned.

Watching the kiln evolve from nothing into its current state filled him with pride.

Standing at the kiln entrance, he observed it for a moment before bending to step inside.

The air inside carried a faint trace of burnt smoke, but it was dry, completely unlike the damp environment of an ordinary cave.

He ran his hands over the kiln walls. The interior, coated in clay, had hardened into a firm, solid surface after firing.

The central pillar for reinforcement was sturdy, with the clay firmly bonding the stones. Unless an unforeseen incident occurred, it should last eight to ten years without issue.

Looking up, Jian Mo noted the open vent at the top, designed for ventilation. Sunlight and a breeze filtered in, clearing out most of the stale air.

The kiln cave had been refined to the point where even Jian Mo couldn’t find anything to critique for the moment.

“How is it?” Qing Kuo asked.

Turning around, Jian Mo saw the faintly proud expression on Qing Kuo’s face and smiled. “It’s fantastic. Everyone here is incredibly skilled.”

“Shall we mix the glazes now?” Qing Kuo continued.

Jian Mo nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Over time, Jian Mo had collected more than a dozen materials, intending to test each as a glaze component.

Ye Luo and others had helped grind the materials into fine powders using stones. Now, all he had to do was put them to use.

As Jian Mo prepared to mix the glazes, Qing Kuo, Ye Luo, and several other core sub-beastmen of the tribe gathered to watch.

Jian Mo began combining the powders in various proportions, mixing them with water to create glaze pastes.

To keep track, he had specially whittled many small wooden plaques to serve as labels. Using charcoal, he meticulously recorded the proportions for each glaze on the plaques to ensure easy reference later.

The intricate Chinese characters, a product of a developed writing system, were incomprehensible to the people of this world, leaving them clueless about their meaning.

Ye Luo, admiring the writing, remarked, “These characters look beautiful.”

Jian Mo glanced up and smiled. “They’re the legacy of my ancestors.”

Ye Luo nodded thoughtfully but said no more.

The group knew that Jian Mo hailed from a distant and different tribe and was privy to knowledge unlike their own. His habit of writing things down didn’t seem out of place to them.

Not only did they accept it, but they also actively spread positive opinions within the tribe, helping to cover for Jian Mo.

With their support, Jian Mo had seamlessly integrated into the tribe.

Once the glaze paste was prepared, Jian Mo used thin wooden slats to evenly spread it over previously fired and cracked pottery shards, applying a uniform thickness.

In the current cold and windy weather, the shards would dry sufficiently in a few hours, allowing them to be fired in the kiln by evening.

After firing, these shards would serve as color swatches, letting him evaluate the results of the different glazes. If any failed to bond during firing, he’d discard those formulations to avoid wasting good pottery.

Making pottery was incredibly challenging. In this cold weather, with so many steps involved, every stage required immense effort from the tribe. Failure would be a shame.

Using broken pottery for experimentation was the best approach.

Handing the prepared shards to Qing Kuo, Jian Mo said, “Thank you. If I don’t make it back by evening, just put them in the kiln.”

Qing Kuo replied, “This is no trouble at all. Are you heading to the Green Marsh Source today to gather grass?”

Jian Mo nodded. “Wu Jiong said there’s plenty of grass there. If we’re lucky, we might even find some green grass to improve Chirpy’s meals.”

Ye Luo, who had been listening nearby, chuckled. “If you’re not in a rush, you can use a hoe to dig up grass roots. You might not find green grass, but there will definitely be tender white roots beneath the soil.”

Jian Mo’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Thanks for the tip!”

Ye Luo waved him off. “Don’t mention it.”

Jian Mo hurried home and relayed Ye Luo’s suggestion to Wu Jiong.

Wu Jiong said, “I’ll grab the hoe. It’s a bit worn, so I’ll make a couple of new ones in a few days.”

While the tribe occasionally used stone hoes to dig roots, most beastmen and sub-beastmen relied on their claws, meaning the tools didn’t see much use.

Since Jian Mo’s arrival, however, as someone entirely reliant on tools, Wu Jiong’s household had experienced a noticeable increase in wear and tear, frequently requiring replacements.

The two of them set off for the Green Marsh Source. Wu Jiong didn’t transform into his beast form but instead flew there directly on the winged beast.

The winged beast’s ability to fly in a straight line made the journey much easier than walking.

Upon arriving, they brushed aside the snow and dug through the surface soil. Sure enough, they uncovered tender, white grass roots beneath.

These roots were sweet with a hint of bitterness, non-toxic, and edible for humans.

Looking at the roots in his hand, Jian Mo decided to bring some back to incorporate into meals—a good way to add dietary fiber.

As a human, he knew that insufficient fiber intake wasn’t ideal for his health.

Moments like this made Jian Mo envious of the beastmen and sub-beastmen around him. They seemed far hardier than he was, able to eat nearly anything without issue.

The winged beast, realizing that they were digging for its food, chirped happily and eagerly used its claws to scrape away snow and soil, eating as it dug.

Watching the beast, Jian Mo didn’t intervene. If it ate more now, he could feed it less later.

The Green Marsh Source, surrounded by mountains, was relatively warmer. They worked for most of the day without feeling cold.

Since it wasn’t often they came out, Jian Mo persuaded Wu Jiong to stay and work until nightfall before heading back.

When they returned to the tribe, the next batch of wet wood had already been loaded into the kiln, and Jian Mo’s glazed shards had been placed inside as well.

In the midst of the activity, Qing Kuo looked up and said, “The kiln is sealed now. You’ll have to wait until morning to check.”

Jian Mo replied, “No rush. I just came to take a quick look.”

Qing Kuo waved him off. “If there’s nothing else, head home and rest. It’s been a long day.”

Taking his advice, Jian Mo made a round of the area before heading back home.

Life in the tribe was peaceful. After dinner, Jian Mo cleaned up, went to the second floor, and nestled beside the giant wolf form of Wu Jiong, quickly falling asleep.

He slept deeply, without dreams, and was utterly groggy when woken the next morning.

“What?” Jian Mo, still dazed, looked at the scene before him. “The glaze test results are out?”

Qing Kuo exclaimed, “Yes! Some fired successfully, while others didn’t. I brought the results for you to see!”

Jian Mo nodded slowly, still processing the information.

In Qing Kuo’s soot-stained hands were three shards of pottery, each coated with colorful, mottled glazes. Against the grayish-white base of the shards, Jian Mo could distinguish red and blue hues.

Upon seeing this, he snapped awake completely. “It actually worked!”

Qing Kuo explained, “Out of sixteen glaze tests, only these three succeeded. The rest came out exactly as they went in.”

Throwing off his blanket, Jian Mo exclaimed, “Let me see!”

“Here you go.” Qing Kuo handed Jian Mo the other dull, grayish glaze shards from the basket, but couldn’t help adding, “Hurry up and put on some clothes before you look at them. Don’t catch a cold.”

Jian Mo glanced at the brazier burning in the corner of the room. “It’s fine. It’s warm here.”

Qing Kuo insisted, “Others might be fine, but you’re not as sturdy. Put something on, quickly.”

With no choice, Jian Mo slipped on his fur robe before picking up the glaze shards to examine them carefully.

All the shards had been glazed and fired in the same kiln at the same time, yet only some had fused properly. It was puzzling why some succeeded while others didn’t.

Taking Qing Kuo along, Jian Mo went downstairs to retrieve the records he had written the previous day.

The glaze shards were numbered, and only numbers nine, ten, and eleven had successfully fused.

Jian Mo checked the wooden plaques with the glaze formulas and quickly noticed that these three glazes all included alkali.

Staring at the formula, Jian Mo suddenly realized something: the glaze layer was essentially a glass layer, and alkali seemed to lower the melting point of the glaze.

The glaze paste was basically mud, which likely contained quartz.

Alkali, then, was lowering the melting point of the quartz!

It wasn’t an easy revelation.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Jian Mo sighed at how mentally taxing it was to figure this out.

Staring at the glaze shards, Jian Mo murmured, “I’ve always thought glaze seemed familiar but couldn’t recall why. Turns out it’s similar to glass. No wonder it’s waterproof.”

Qing Kuo looked utterly perplexed. “What’s glass?”

Hearing the commotion, Wu Jiong walked in, observing the excited yet fatigued Jian Mo and the utterly baffled Qing Kuo. “Take your time explaining,” Wu Jiong said.

“Right,” Jian Mo replied.

After calming down a little, Jian Mo admitted sheepishly, “Let me organize my thoughts first.”

Qing Kuo poured him a cup of water and sighed, “You just said so much, and I didn’t understand a word.”

Jian Mo held up a glaze shard. “Let’s start with glass. Glass is a transparent, colorless, hard material. It can be made by firing sand.”

“Sand? The kind on the riverbanks?” Qing Kuo asked, confused.

Jian Mo nodded. “Exactly that sand. If we want to make glass, we’ll need to sift it to find the finest grains possible.”

Qing Kuo seemed to grasp the idea but grew more curious. “What would we do with glass? Stop making pottery?”

“Glass and pottery are separate things,” Jian Mo explained. “If the melting point of glass is low enough, we could fire them together.”

Qing Kuo hesitated. “But what’s the point? Would we use it to hold things, like pottery?”

“No, no, no. It has even greater uses.” Jian Mo pointed at the window sealed with tree bark, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “We could use it for windows.”

Qing Kuo and Wu Jiong followed his gaze to the window.

Qing Kuo still looked bewildered.

Wu Jiong asked, “Transparent material—glass is colorless like water but hard like pottery? If we put it on windows, it would block the wind but still let light in?”

Jian Mo nodded, looking at Wu Jiong with admiration. “Exactly. Can you imagine it?”

“I can,” Wu Jiong replied simply.

Qing Kuo rubbed his temples. “You two keep talking, but I can’t picture it at all.”

Jian Mo laughed, “Don’t worry. Once we make it, you’ll understand.”