Jian Mo invited the cubs back home for honey tea, and soon, some of the younger adults in the tribe joined the lively gathering.
With little to do during the winter, people gathered to chat and drink tea, filling the house with noise and laughter well into the afternoon. It wasn’t until Wu Jiong returned in the evening that everyone dispersed.
Perplexed, Jian Mo asked Wu Jiong, “Why are they so afraid of you?”
To Jian Mo, Wu Jiong seemed easygoing. He didn’t talk much but rarely lost his temper, so there didn’t seem to be anything intimidating about him.
Wu Jiong replied simply, “Maybe because I’m the tribe chief.”
Jian Mo gave him a sidelong glance. “That sounds a bit unfair.”
Wu Jiong came over to help with the evening preparations, but Jian Mo shooed him away. “Go rest. Aren’t you tired?”
“Not really,” Wu Jiong replied, sitting by the hearth. His long legs stretched out awkwardly, seeming to have nowhere to go. “I haven’t done much today.”
Jian Mo gave him another look before dumping the bugs from his pouch into a bowl to clean. “We’re having fried bugs tonight. I saved some just for you.”
Wu Jiong’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Saved them secretly?”
Jian Mo corrected him, “Not secretly. I asked the cubs first.”
Wu Jiong chuckled softly.
Jian Mo rinsed the bugs, drained them in a basket, and then shook them dry before setting them aside to air out. He pulled out the stone pot from storage—frying food required a stone pot, as clay ones could crack under high heat, spilling the valuable beast fat.
Jian Mo handled the cooking while Wu Jiong tended the fire. Occasionally, they exchanged a few words.
Outside, snowflakes drifted down, but the warmth inside the house created a cozy atmosphere.
Once the food was ready, they moved to the table for dinner.
Jian Mo pushed the plate of fried bugs toward Wu Jiong. “I think these will be tasty. Try them.”
The fried bugs, seasoned with just a light sprinkle of salt, emitted an enticing aroma.
“You eat too,” Wu Jiong said.
Jian Mo picked up a bug with his chopsticks and took a small bite.
The bug had a clean, pine-like aroma and a flavor reminiscent of bee larvae, with a crispy and fragrant texture.
After swallowing, Jian Mo commented, “Fried bugs are so much better. Roasting them earlier was such a waste.”
Wu Jiong replied, “This is a childhood tradition in our tribe. Every cub has eaten roasted bugs.”
His face softened with a nostalgic expression, prompting Jian Mo to ask, “A tradition just for the cubs?”
Wu Jiong nodded. “Yes, usually adults leave the bugs for them. It’s been years since I’ve had any.”
Jian Mo placed another helping on Wu Jiong’s plate. “Then you should eat more.”
Feeling something was missing, Jian Mo stood up to fetch a jar of fruit wine from the shelf. He avoided the sweet, aromatic wine made from Snow Beads Fruit, opting instead for something stronger.
He pulled out a small jar of high-proof alcohol and asked Wu Jiong, “Want a drink?”
Wu Jiong’s answer was to place a clay pot on the hearth to warm the wine.
The two already had plenty to talk about, but with warm wine in their cups, their conversation flowed even more freely.
Jian Mo shared stories of his childhood, describing the days he spent running wild through the hills and streams. Wu Jiong, in turn, spoke about his two fathers and the times they were still alive—they’d had him at an advanced age and had since passed away.
As Wu Jiong talked, Jian Mo couldn’t help but imagine a plump little white wolf cub running around outside. The image reminded him of Zhou Dao, the chubby wolf pup recovering from stomach trouble, and he smiled faintly.
They drank late into the night. By the time they finished, Jian Mo, slightly tipsy, fell into an unusually deep sleep.
The next morning, Jian Mo woke to someone calling his name. Staring at the ceiling, he felt a bit disoriented.
Zhou Fu shook his shoulder again, repeating, “Jian Mo, did you hear what I said?”
“Hmm.” Jian Mo blinked a few times and groggily focused on Zhou Fu’s face. His head throbbed. “Something about the glass?”
Zhou Fu pulled him upright by both hands. “Yes! The glass we fired yesterday all failed. The black sand turned into a mess of unusable glass chunks!”
Rubbing his temples, Jian Mo asked, “The black sand we brought back from the Jin Tuo Tribe? You fired it yesterday?”
“That’s right,” Zhou Fu confirmed, emphasizing his point. “The result was a disaster—just clumps of unusable glass. It looks bizarre.”
Jian Mo, still a bit foggy, admitted, “I forgot about it. Let me take a look.”
Zhou Fu grabbed a fur cloak from the corner of the bed and handed it to Jian Mo. “Put this on first.”
Once dressed, Jian Mo followed Zhou Fu downstairs, still massaging his aching head.
The hearth on the first floor had already been lit, though without Wu Jiong present, the fire had been smothered with ash. Only a faint orange glow remained in the embers.
A clay pot set aside for boiling water was steaming lightly—apparently, the water had already been heated.
Jian Mo glanced around. “Did Wu Jiong go check already?”
Zhou Fu nodded. “Yes, the chief left as soon as he heard.”
“Then let’s go too,” Jian Mo said.
Bundling himself tightly in the fur cloak, Jian Mo stepped out into the cold and made his way to the kiln by the river.
Before they even reached it, he could see a large crowd gathered around, their voices a cacophony of concern and curiosity. Though the exact words were unclear from a distance, the atmosphere felt tense and conflicted.
Someone noticed Jian Mo approaching and called out, “Jian Mo is here!”
The crowd parted instinctively, clearing a path for him.
Jian Mo didn’t hesitate, stepping through the throng to stand before Wu Jiong and Qing Kuo. “What’s going on?”
Qing Kuo held up an open clay box for Jian Mo to inspect. “We tried firing glass with the black sand, following the same steps as before. But the glass didn’t form properly—it’s all clumped up.”
As Qing Kuo explained, Jian Mo leaned in to examine the contents.
Normally, the bottom of the clay box would hold a smooth sheet of glass. Instead, there were several irregular masses—some barely formed into glass, others messy, lumpy fragments.
Jian Mo picked up the pieces one by one. Among them, he found two distinct types: slightly greenish glass beads and a honeycomb-like reddish-black material.
The glass beads were unremarkable, likely a result of impurities preventing the glass from forming into a flat sheet.
The reddish-black material, however, felt cool to the touch, its weight and texture suggesting it was metal.
Jian Mo tapped the surface lightly, the crisp sound confirming his suspicion.
He looked up at Wu Jiong. “It seems we’ve smelted metal.”
Wu Jiong nodded. “It looks like metal fragments.”
Taking a deep breath, Jian Mo came to a conclusion. “The sand we brought back—it’s likely ore sand.”
Qing Kuo blinked in surprise. “Ore sand?”
Jian Mo explained, “Exactly. The Jin Tuo Tribe mentioned that they mine for complete metal chunks inside the mines. My guess is that, apart from the high-quality metal pieces they use directly, they also produce ore sand as a byproduct.”
The group exchanged uncertain looks, clearly struggling to follow.
Jian Mo turned to Wu Jiong for support.
Wu Jiong, understanding immediately, said, “Understood. Everyone else, head back for now. Qing Kuo, De Jiang, you stay.”
This was clearly an indication to hold a private discussion.
The others didn’t question it. Without hesitation, they turned and left.
Though most of the tribe members were generally carefree, when it came to safeguarding the tribe, they acted with remarkable unity and discretion.
Once the others had dispersed, patrolling beastmen did a sweep of the area to ensure safety. With only the core members of the tribe remaining, Jian Mo began to explain earnestly, “Ore sand contains traces of metal, meaning it’s a form of ore.”
He paused to let the idea sink in.
After a moment’s thought, he continued, “When we melted the ore sand to make glass, the alkali we added likely reduced the melting point of non-metal components. These components melted first, fusing together. Then, under the high heat, the metal inside also melted.”
The explanation was a bit complex, but the beastmen and sub-beastmen present were the tribe’s sharpest minds. After some contemplation, they started to grasp the concept.
Qing Kuo asked, “So, does that mean we brought back copper from the Jin Tuo Tribe?”
Jian Mo clarified, “Probably not just copper. Natural ore sand often contains a mix of metals, making it impure. Apart from copper, the metals we smelted likely include iron—or at least, I suspect so. Iron is another type of metal.”
The information was staggering. Jian Mo paused again to let them process it.
After a few breaths, the realization hit, and excitement spread among the group. However, it was accompanied by a hint of nervousness.
Wu Jiong spoke solemnly, “Regardless of the specifics, the fact that we’ve obtained metal is a great advantage for the tribe. But this must remain confidential.”
He scanned the group with a firm gaze.
Qing Kuo nodded immediately. “We need to inform the others about the importance of this secret.”
De Jiang added, “We should hold a meeting to reinforce this.”
In just a few sentences, they had set the course of action.
The He’an Tribe had never produced metal before. If word got out that they suddenly had a source, it would raise suspicion and questions.
More importantly, no one seemed to know that ore sand could yield metal. If this knowledge spreads, it might lead to conflicts—or worse, war—between tribes.
Jian Mo, unfamiliar with the intricacies of tribal politics, stayed quiet during their discussion.
Once they finished deliberating, he asked, “How much ore sand do we have left?”
Qing Kuo promptly answered, “Twenty-one and a half baskets!”
Jian Mo asked, “Should we smelt it?”
Smelting the ore would produce metal, which could then be crafted into tools far superior to their current wooden, bone, and stone implements. It would be a direct boost to their productivity.
Wu Jiong’s response was firm: “Smelt it.”
Qing Kuo added, “We’ve already brought it back. Letting it sit and go to waste in a cave would be foolish.”
De Jiang chimed in, “We’ll need to start gathering more firewood again. Good thing we already have copper axes.”
Jian Mo nodded. “In the future, we’ll have even better metal axes and machetes.”
The group shifted their focus to planning the smelting process.
Jian Mo listened quietly. Seeing that their arrangements were thorough, he had little to add.
When the tribe put their plans into action, the efficiency was astounding.
In just five days, they had successfully smelted their first batch of metal.
The clay boxes used in the process had been modified with small vents on the sides. As the ore sand melted, the non-metal components drained through these vents, leaving behind more concentrated and larger metal chunks in the boxes.
Jian Mo inspected a still-warm chunk of black-red metal, turning it over repeatedly in his hands.
Though predominantly black, the metal had a subtle red sheen visible under the right angle in sunlight. Jian Mo guessed it contained significant amounts of iron and copper.
As for other elements? He had no way of knowing. Without the proper tools or techniques, there was no way to analyze its composition.
What he could confirm, however, was that the metal was usable.
Jian Mo stared at the chunk for a long time, his emotions complicated.
He still didn’t fully understand this world or whether this planet existed in the same universe as Earth. But finding iron—a metal so abundant in Earth’s universe—made him wonder if the two worlds were connected.
The thought stirred a faint sense of familiarity and comfort, as if the distance between this place and Earth had suddenly lessened.
Over the next few days, Jian Mo’s emotions remained unsettled. But he wasn’t alone—no one in the tribe seemed particularly calm.
Even Qing Kuo, who was usually composed, now had heavy dark circles under his eyes. Wu Jiong, though outwardly collected, wore a particularly grave expression.
The results of their efforts were soon clear: twenty-one and a half baskets of ore sand had yielded just over half a basket of metal chunks.
Despite the modest yield, the tribe was ecstatic.
The tribe’s core members gathered at Wu Jiong’s house to discuss how to use the metal.
Jian Mo, as one of the core members, joined the meeting.
At first, he sat quietly, observing and listening without interjecting.
But when the discussion veered toward storing the metal as a strategic reserve, Jian Mo couldn’t stay silent any longer.
Jian Mo said, “I don’t think it’s necessary to store the metal away. Alloys are incredibly durable, and even with daily use, the wear and tear will be minimal. We can forge them into tools for now. If we need the metal for something else later, we can always remelt and reshape it.”
Wu Jiong nodded. “It’s true that the consumption is minimal. Look at the copper axes we exchanged for earlier—they’ve been used for so long and only have a few chips. Sharpening them keeps them as good as new.”
De Jiang gave Wu Jiong a thoughtful glance and agreed. “Metal tools don’t wear out easily. It’s worth a try.”
As the conversation turned to what could be made, the group grew increasingly excited.
Jian Mo added, “We could start with essential tools like axes, kitchen knives, and hoes—things we use daily.”
Qing Kuo chimed in, “I agree. A good kitchen knife would make daily tasks so much easier.”
Di Ya suggested, “Maybe we don’t need to make separate kitchen knives. A single versatile blade for each household would work for all purposes.”
Everyone nodded in agreement at this practical idea.
Qing Kuo’s enthusiasm flared. “In that case, we might need to trade for more ore sand with the Jin Tuo Tribe.”
Jian Mo tempered the excitement. “Let’s finish forging tools from this batch first and assess the results before considering another trade.”
De Jiang then posed a critical question: “Jian Mo, do you know how to forge tools from these metal chunks?”
The He’an Tribe’s land didn’t yield metal resources, so they had little experience handling it. While they had used metal tools obtained through trades, crafting their own was an entirely different matter.
All eyes turned to Jian Mo, silently hoping for an affirmative answer.
Fortunately, Jian Mo knew enough. “We’ll need a furnace to soften the metal, then we can hammer it into shape.”
He wished they could cast the metal into molds instead, but the current technological limitations made that unfeasible. Forging by hammering the metal chunks was already a significant step forward.
Qing Kuo quickly asked, “What’s a furnace, and how do we make one?”
Jian Mo explained, “A furnace is like a small kiln. We’ll heat the metal chunks inside until they soften, then take them out and hammer them into the desired shapes.”
Using hand gestures to illustrate his points, Jian Mo explained the process until his mouth felt dry. Gradually, the others began to understand.
Wu Jiong silently passed him a cup of water. “Jian Mo’s method seems workable. Let’s focus on building the furnace first.”
Building a furnace required bricks.
Fortunately, the tribe already had kilns, clay, charcoal, and the necessary skills. This challenge wouldn’t stop them.
Qing Kuo and De Jiang volunteered to select capable beastmen and sub-beastmen to gather the required materials promptly.
Jian Mo took responsibility for drawing up blueprints and crafting bellows.
A bellows was essential to achieve the high temperatures needed for smelting metal. Jian Mo had a basic understanding of how they worked—using pressure differences to pump air into the furnace—and the tribe’s tools and materials, such as sturdy animal hides, seemed sufficient.
However, making a functional and efficient bellows would still require experimentation.
Within a few days, Qing Kuo and his team had fired the bricks needed for the furnace. Jian Mo joined them in constructing and adjusting the design.
None of them had ever built a furnace before. Even Jian Mo, despite understanding the theory, was unsure about the practical details. They improvised, modeling the furnace after their kilns, focusing on concentrating heat in the center.
The process was made easier by their access to lime. If a design failed, they could dismantle the structure and try again with relative ease.
After days of labor, they completed both the furnace and the bellows.
It was time to put the metal chunks into the furnace. High-quality charcoal was added, and the bellows were set in motion, pumping a steady flow of air into the furnace to raise the temperature.
The process was kept strictly confidential, with only a carefully selected group of core beastmen and sub-beastmen allowed to the site in the back mountains.
The tribe’s elites gathered around the furnace, feeling the intense heat radiating from it.
Qing Kuo remarked, “The furnace is so much hotter than a firepit.”
Jian Mo didn’t blink as he stared at the glowing furnace. “It has to be. Otherwise, how could we melt the metal chunks? Look—some of them are starting to turn red.”
The group fell silent, focusing intently on the glowing metal inside.
Using specially modified tongs wrapped with vine and animal hide to prevent burns, De Jiang carefully pulled out a red-hot metal chunk.
Wu Jiong inspected it. “Not ready yet. It’s not heated through.”
De Jiang agreed. “It needs more time.”
Di Ya worked the bellows harder, sending more air into the furnace. The charcoal burned fiercely, flames leaping and sparks flying. “It’s so hot!”
The blazing fire cast a red glow over everyone’s faces, highlighting their exhaustion but also their determination.
After a while, the metal chunk’s surface began to flake and blister.
Holding his breath, Jian Mo said, “It should be ready now.”
De Jiang quickly retrieved the chunk and placed it on a large stone near the furnace. Standing by with stone hammers, Ah Da and Yong An struck the metal without hesitation, flattening it bit by bit.
As the metal cooled from red to black, it became less pliable. De Jiang returned it to the furnace, and Di Ya resumed pumping the bellows, his arm muscles taut and rhythmic in their movements.
Meanwhile, Ah Da and Yong An inspected their hammers. Yong An’s had chipped, so he switched to a spare.
They repeated the process, gradually hammering the metal into thinner, blade-like shapes.
Once the blades were formed, young beastmen Ah Hu and Ban Ming sharpened them on grinding stones. Bit by bit, the edges gleamed brightly, their sharpness evident.
Wu Jiong brought a pre-made hardwood handle, fitting the tang of the blade into it. He hammered the tang’s end to secure it, drove in wooden wedges, and finished crafting the knife.
Under the watchful eyes of the group, Wu Jiong handed the finished blade to Jian Mo.
Encouraged by their expectant gazes, Jian Mo accepted it.
The knife resembled a familiar fruit knife but was heavier, almost like a small dagger. Its black blade contrasted with the natural wood handle, while the polished edge gleamed with a chilling brilliance.
Though small to conserve materials, the knife was masterfully crafted and bore the weight of countless hammer strikes and aspirations for a better life.
Jian Mo held it up and gently dropped a strand of his hair onto the blade. The hair split cleanly in two.
“Good knife!” he exclaimed.
The group exhaled collectively, their tension dissolving.
Ban Ming threw an arm around Ah Hu’s shoulder, and Ah Hu did the same with Jiu Yin. The rest followed suit, forming a circle of camaraderie, beastmen and sub-beastmen alike, cheering loudly.
Jian Mo stood between Wu Jiong and Qing Kuo, their steady hands gripping his shoulders firmly.
Looking down at the knife in his hands, Jian Mo’s face reflected his deep emotions, which gradually softened into a smile.
This is incredible.
Thank you for the chapter!!!