Riding on Chirpy as it soared above the He’an Tribe, Jian Mo spotted Qing Kuo cutting meat in the open area of the tribe. He quickly turned to Wu Jiong and said, “Hurry, let Chirpy land. I need to talk to Qing Kuo about something.”
Before Jian Mo could finish his sentence, Chirpy let out a sharp “chirp” and dove down, flapping its wings expertly.
“Good Chirpy!” Jian Mo patted Chirpy’s back. “You’re becoming smarter by the day.”
Chirpy puffed up its chest in pride and called out, “Chirp chirp!”
Its landing, however, was less graceful. It nearly stumbled, but Wu Jiong quickly jumped off, steadied Chirpy, and kept it from toppling over.
Everyone nearby turned to look.
Ye Luo called out, “Why are you both back so early today?”
Jian Mo slid off Chirpy and ran toward the open area. “Everything went smoothly, so we came back early. Is that meat being cut for drying?”
Qing Kuo replied, “Yes, it was marinated overnight yesterday. Slicing it thinner makes it easier to dry.”
The strong sun and high temperatures made preserving meat harder than in autumn and winter. Processing it quickly was essential.
Jian Mo glanced at the buckets of meat next to Qing Kuo and began to understand why Qing Kuo stayed back to process meat instead of going out to gather.
Qing Kuo looked at Jian Mo, crouched nearby, and raised an eyebrow. “Need something?”
Jian Mo grinned. “How did you know?”
Qing Kuo smirked. “We’re familiar enough that I could tell what you ate last night just by the way you walked.”
Ye Luo and the others burst out laughing.
Jian Mo sighed. “Your way with words always leaves me speechless.”
With that, Jian Mo sat down nearby, pulled out a knife from his back, cleaned it, and began helping slice the meat.
Wu Jiong had already taken Chirpy home to rest. The group consisted entirely of sub-beastmen, so Jian Mo spoke freely.
“We ran into a pregnant sub-beastman this morning when we visited the Mengshui Tribe.”
Qing Kuo’s expression turned concerned. “From the Mengshui Tribe? Was everything okay?”
Jian Mo waved his hand. “No, they were from the Zhengchi Tribe. Everything was fine, but I’ve never dealt with a pregnant sub-beastman before, so I wanted to ask about it.”
Qing Kuo nodded. “Ask away.”
Jian Mo began, “Do sub-beastmen often have complications during childbirth? Does it ever lead to death for the sub-beastman or the baby?”
The question shifted the group’s mood to seriousness. Qing Kuo answered, “It’s not common, but when complications happen, it’s the baby that usually doesn’t survive. If a sub-beastman loses their baby, it’s very hard for them to conceive again—sometimes, they never will.”
Jian Mo caught the nuance. “So in cases of complications, it’s usually the baby that’s at risk?”
Qing Kuo nodded. “If the baby can’t come out, the sub-beastman uses their claws to extract it. Sub-beastmen have strong recovery abilities, so they can usually survive the process.”
Jian Mo thought about this. A pair of forceps could be incredibly useful in such cases. He had almost forgotten that sub-beastmen could extend claws to assist in childbirth.
While claws could ensure the sub-beastman’s survival at the cost of the baby, it further highlighted the significant differences between their world and his past one.
Jian Mo reminded himself to adapt his thinking and said, “I know of a tool that helps during complicated births. I wonder if it would work here?”
He described the design and use of forceps, which involved metal blades shaped to gently grip and extract the baby.
Qing Kuo listened and said, “That sounds useful. Should we ask the tribe to make one?”
Jian Mo nodded. “That’s my idea, but I wanted your input first since everyone is busy hunting and gathering. If everyone agrees, I’ll bring it up with the tribe.”
Qing Kuo didn’t hesitate. “For something that could save babies, it’s worth using the forge. You mentioned it’s made from metal strips, so it shouldn’t be hard.”
Jian Mo smiled. “I’ll discuss it with the tribe. If they agree, I’ll sketch the design on a wooden board. But first, I need to know the size and shape of newborns to make an accurate design.”
Qing Kuo said, “That I can tell you. It varies by species. My cubs, Ban Ming, and Ban Jiu, were about the size of two fists when they were born, curled up in their beast forms.”
He demonstrated by clenching his fists, one representing the cub’s head and the other its body. For someone of his height and build, two fists were quite sizable.
Jian Mo quickly said, “Hold on, let me grab a wooden board to note this down.”
Qing Kuo added, “For our spirit-cat tribe, cubs are relatively small. But larger tribes like the giant wolves, bears, or armored beasts have much bigger cubs, and their births are harder. Let me finish cutting the meat first, and I’ll draw it for you.”
Ye Luo chimed in, “Cub size also depends on how chubby they are. When Zhou Dao was born, it was tough on Chen Yi. His partner Min Kuo almost had the tribe’s sub-beastmen pull the cub out. Thankfully, the elders intervened.”
Jian Mo thought about Zhou Dao’s stocky little figure and could see how that might have been difficult.
Childbirth scenarios were mostly foreign to Jian Mo, and he struggled to visualize cub sizes accurately. However, he had experience with breech births, where forceps were often used to reposition or extract the baby.
After discussing thoroughly, Jian Mo sketched the forceps on a wooden board and officially asked the tribe’s smiths, led by De Jiang, to forge them.
De Jiang and his team were skilled, having crafted many tools during winter. Producing forceps wasn’t a challenge. With leftover winter charcoal, all the materials were readily available, and they quickly got to work.
Wu Jiong also joined in to assist with the forging process.
To prepare for any situation, the tribe crafted forceps in multiple sizes and lengths. They also took the opportunity to improve Jian Mo’s tweezers and surgical knives, sharpening them to perfection.
When Jian Mo received the box of metal tools, he was elated. He personally brought a half-basket of metal as thanks to De Jiang and his team, who were equally pleased with the results.
The extra metal earned from the project would be divided among those involved, providing materials for their own hunting and gathering tools.
Armed with the forceps, Jian Mo asked Qing Kuo to spread the word that he was available to help any pregnant sub-beastmen in need, free of charge. Qing Kuo quickly relayed the message to neighboring tribes, joking, “It’d be a shame not to charge if you’re going out of your way to help others.”
Jian Mo laughed. “It’s fine. I’m just gaining experience. Plus, with Chirpy, getting to other tribes is easy.”
Qing Kuo chuckled. “You’re quite easygoing. All right, let’s focus on business now.”
Jian Mo gestured for him to continue.
Qing Kuo said, “The tribe held a meeting over the past two days and decided not to interfere with your activities anymore. If you don’t want to join the gathering parties, you don’t have to. If you feel like going, you’re welcome to join. It’s entirely up to you, no obligations.”
Jian Mo clarified, “So, from now on, I can move around freely without needing to spend half my time each month gathering with the others?”
Qing Kuo nodded. “Exactly. Think of it like during the winter—act as though the tribe isn’t organizing any collective efforts. But when we distribute resources, you’ll still get your share.”
Jian Mo was taken aback. “That doesn’t feel right. If I don’t join collective efforts, I shouldn’t be taking resources for free.”
Qing Kuo waved it off. “You’ve contributed plenty to the tribe. How can that be considered freeloading? When you treat people from other tribes, you hand over part of the resources you receive to the tribe, don’t you?”
Jian Mo thought for a moment but ultimately declined. “Let’s not do that. We’re not short on resources anyway. If I take resources without participating, it might seem fine in the short term, but over time, some people might feel it’s unfair. That could damage the tribe’s harmony.”
Qing Kuo conceded, acknowledging the point. “Fair enough. I’ll discuss it with everyone again.”
Jian Mo grabbed Qing Kuo’s arm with some excitement. “Let’s set that aside for now. I want to borrow the tribe’s soaking pits. Is that okay?”
The tribe had dug large pits in the back hills specifically for tanning Tou Tou hides. Jian Mo had checked earlier in the day and noticed that several pits were empty and available.
Qing Kuo agreed readily. “Of course. What do you need them for?”
Jian Mo replied, “Remember when I mentioned making paper? Using wooden boards is too inconvenient, so I want to strip some tree bark and make a batch of paper.”
Qing Kuo’s memory sparked. “Oh, that. Sure. Do you need help stripping the bark?”
“No need,” Jian Mo said with a smile. “We’re not making much, just a small batch. Wu Jiong and I can manage it quickly.”
Qing Kuo nodded. “All right. Let us know if you need help.”
That afternoon, Jian Mo and Wu Jiong headed out and returned with two large baskets of relatively fine-textured bark.
The bark was soft, elastic, and reminiscent of Tou Tou hides.
Working while the bark was still fresh, Jian Mo and Wu Jiong carefully shredded it with knives, then carried it to the stone mortar to grind it into pulp.
After an afternoon of labor, they ended up with four large baskets of fibers.
Wu Jiong asked, “Do we just soak it now?”
Jian Mo examined the pulpy bark, grabbed a handful, and said, “That should do. The goal is to soak away the rotting parts and leave the fibers. I’m not entirely sure, but I heard it’s pretty straightforward.”
With optimism, Jian Mo added, “If it doesn’t work, we can try again. The process isn’t too hard, and with some trial and error, we’ll figure it out.”
Wu Jiong nodded in agreement. “Makes sense.”
“Let’s go, let’s carry it to the soaking pits.”
The soaking pits had been designed cleverly. Freshwater was directed into the pits, which were lined with woven vine “gates” to allow water to pass through while keeping the contents from washing away.
Jian Mo estimated that soaking the bark for ten days to two weeks would be enough. If not, they could extend it to a month to ensure all the decomposable material broke down.
Once ready, they could use a sieve to collect the fibers, and the paper would be ready to form.
However, they didn’t have a ready-made sieve. Jian Mo set aside time to weave one, using wooden strips as a frame and fine Tou Tou hair as the warp and weft. It was a meticulous job, and it took him and Wu Jiong several days to complete a pair of sieves.
Each sieve was about a meter square, perfectly sized for scooping paper pulp.
Perhaps their choice of bark was particularly suitable, or maybe the flowing water in the pits sped up the process, but soaking the bark proved to be unexpectedly easy.
By the time their sieves were ready, the bark fibers in the pits were also prepared.
The pulp looked like shredded tissue that had been tossed into a washing machine back on Earth, only to dissolve and scatter into tiny pieces.
With one glance, Jian Mo could tell the fibers were ready. His years of experience with such mishaps ensured he wouldn’t make a mistake.
For the He’an Tribe, paper was a novel concept—something they had never heard of, let alone used.
When Jian Mo began scooping the pulp with his sieve, curious onlookers crowded around.
The soaking pits were livelier than New Year celebrations, and Jian Mo worried that if he failed, everyone would be deeply disappointed.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he glanced at the sea of faces behind him and announced, “I’m starting.”
Everyone nodded in unison.
Jian Mo signaled Ban Ming and a few others to stir the bark pulp with sticks. Once the off-white fibers floated to the surface, Jian Mo dipped the sieve into the water and swirled it gently to evenly distribute the fibers across the mesh.
And just like that, the first sheet of paper was made.
The onlookers were incredulous at how simple it seemed.
“That’s it?”
“I think I can do that too.”
“I definitely can!”
Jian Mo laughed. “It’s not a hard process to learn.”
He carefully lifted the wooden frame, let the water drip off, and placed the sheet on a prepared wooden board to dry.
The paper adhered smoothly and evenly to the board, and it looked of decent quality.
Taking a step back, Jian Mo admired his work with satisfaction.
Wu Jiong followed suit, scooping another frame of paper and successfully laying it on a board.
Jian Mo exchanged a glance with Wu Jiong, both smiling.
They tried making paper a few more times, each attempt a success.
“This is practically elementary school-level handiwork,” Jian Mo joked.
Qing Kuo had been watching intently for a while. Finally, unable to hold back, he said, “Let me try!”
Jian Mo handed him the frame. “Just level out the pulp inside.”
Qing Kuo nodded earnestly. “I’ve got it.”
Soon enough, Qing Kuo successfully scooped out a frame of paper. He carefully laid it on a wooden board, just as smooth and neat as Jian Mo’s.
Inspired by Qing Kuo’s success, the others clamored to have a go. Frame after frame, they quickly used up all the pulp.
By nightfall, everyone was still eager for more.
Jian Mo lifted the vine gates on either side of the large pit, letting water flow in to wash away the remaining pulp. “That’s it for today. We’ll make more next time.”
Ban Ming, still brimming with enthusiasm, asked, “When’s the next time? I’ll help strip the bark.”
Jian Mo gestured toward the drying paper on the wooden boards. “Not until we see how this batch turns out.”
If the paper wasn’t satisfactory, they’d need to tweak the process.
Ban Ming nodded. “Just let us know when.”
As they all descended the hill together, Jian Mo assured them they’d check the results in the morning.
The next day, before Jian Mo even got out of bed, Ban Ming and the others came rushing in with news. “Brother Jian Mo, your paper’s ready! It’s like dried flower petals—large, flat, and you can peel it off so easily.”
Groggily, Jian Mo sat up, his hair a disheveled mess. “You’ve already seen it?”
Ban Ming nodded excitedly. “We did!”
“Wait for me,” Jian Mo said, getting up.
As he was about to freshen up, Wu Jiong brought over a basin of warm water and a tooth-cleaning stick.
So thoughtful! Jian Mo flashed him a grateful smile, then brushed his teeth under the eaves with charcoal powder.
Once ready, Jian Mo and Wu Jiong headed to the drying boards, surrounded by curious onlookers.
The paper laid out the previous night had dried beautifully. Thanks to their careful spreading, the quality appeared excellent.
Jian Mo peeled off a sheet and inspected it closely. The surface was mostly smooth and soft, not far from the texture of Earth’s handmade paper.
There were visible bits of wood pulp embedded in the sheets, creating small bumps, but they weren’t too obtrusive. Overall, it was a commendable effort.
He bent the paper slightly—it was pliable and not as rigid or polished as industrial paper, but it was more than adequate for writing.
Holding the paper in his hands, Jian Mo felt a swell of emotion.
Paper, a hallmark of civilization, had been created here so effortlessly.
Wu Jiong, holding a sheet of paper himself, asked, “So? Does it pass?”
Jian Mo nodded. “It passes. No need to adjust the formula for now.”
With a grin, Jian Mo nudged Wu Jiong’s shoulder. “This is great.”
The two exchanged smiles.
The others, meanwhile, were completely absorbed in marveling at the paper.
“It’s so white and soft! Are you sure it’s not fabric?”
“You could use it as fabric, wrap it around your waist. It’s breathable too.”
“Breathable, sure. But wear it wrong, and you’ll be showing everyone your behind.”
“Hahaha!”
Qing Kuo turned to Jian Mo. “So, how do you use this paper?”
Jian Mo explained, “You can bind it together to write things down.”
He demonstrated by stacking the sheets and folding them neatly. “Just sew one edge together, and you have a book.”
Qing Kuo felt the paper and nodded. “I get it. I can help with the sewing.”
Handmade paper sheets varied in size, so Jian Mo added, “We’ll need to trim the edges first to even them out.”
Hearing this, everyone became so eager to try that they abandoned their breakfast plans to follow Jian Mo back home and make notebooks.
Bookmaking proved far simpler than papermaking.
Jian Mo guided them back to his place. Wu Jiong trimmed the paper edges with a hatchet, and Jian Mo brought out needles and thread to demonstrate the binding process.
Thicker stacks of paper were harder to pierce, and Jian Mo’s sewing skills were average at best. His stitches turned out uneven.
After watching for a moment, Qing Kuo and Ye Luo stepped in, offering to take over.
Jian Mo didn’t refuse, and soon enough, thanks to Qing Kuo and the others’ efforts, the He’an Tribe had its very first light-yellow stitched notebook.
Everyone passed it around, marveling at its creation.
“Turning bark into paper and then into a book—how did people even come up with this?”
“It’s so pretty. Honestly, I think it’d make nice clothing too.”
“Brother Jian Mo, I want to trade for some paper. Will you be making another batch?”
Seeing their enthusiasm, Jian Mo proposed, “If everyone likes it, why not make a batch collectively? We can divide the paper later. It’s not a complicated process, and if we work together in our spare time, we can make plenty.”
The idea was met with universal approval. All eyes turned to Wu Jiong.
Wu Jiong nodded. “If everyone’s interested, let’s do it.”
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Qing Kuo added, “This papermaking technique is something Jian Mo brought to us. I suggest we keep it a secret for now. Also, the tribe should provide Jian Mo with some resources as a reward.”
Everyone agreed instantly. “Good idea!”
Qing Kuo smiled at Jian Mo. “What would you like?”
Jian Mo thought for a moment. “Just send me extra paper when we make more.”
He was done with using leaves as toilet paper—this soft paper would be a game changer.
“Done,” Qing Kuo promised. “And how about we also make you a batch of clothes? You seem to go through them quickly.”
Laughter broke out again.
Jian Mo rubbed his nose sheepishly. “We don’t wear through clothes that fast—we just change them often and aren’t great at making them.”
Qing Kuo nodded. “You still need clothes. Give us two days, and the tribe will make you a batch.”
Jian Mo grinned. “I’ll sketch the designs myself.”
With the newly made paper, drawing designs would be a breeze. He preferred Earth-style clothes—short sleeves and shorts for casual wear, long sleeves and pants for forest expeditions to avoid scratches from branches.
He even planned for gloves and socks—it was time to replenish his wardrobe.
The more he thought about it, the more he appreciated Qing Kuo’s thoughtful suggestion.
Leave it to meticulous Qing Kuo to come up with a plan that would lighten their domestic workload. Sharing the papermaking formula with the tribe was well worth it.
