When Xu Yin and Zhao Penglai returned, the black donkey was hauling back a bundle of smoked fish and some stone tools.
Before dusk, the group—next to the main adobe house—planted the supporting beams and pillars, tied horizontal sticks to form walls, smeared yellow mud over them, and used woven bundles of dry weeds to erect an adobe hut.
The hut was so low one had to bend over to enter; it was just raised to be a place for sleeping and resting. Li Cunxin built a fire inside to dry it out, planning to add the roof the next day once it was baked.
During this period, Li Cunxin and the others had not expanded their housing. For one, it wasn’t urgent. For two, although Xia Qing was a Carpenter and knew how to make beams, doors, and windows, she didn’t know the exact sequence of building a house—what should come first, what later, or much about site selection and laying foundations.
Since they couldn’t build a truly better house yet, they didn’t waste mental energy on it. Instead, they let Xia Qing focus on agricultural tools, to see if she could make a few pieces.
Once Zhao Penglai arrived, however, there truly wasn’t a place for him to stay. So they decided to put up one more hut.
Zhao Penglai was very easygoing about his temporary dwelling, thinking as long as it was habitable, that was enough. With all six people pitching in, it was up in half a day.
He saved his mental energy, planning to put all his effort into their new house, once the site selection was complete.
He felt their village’s first proper house absolutely must be spacious, bright, and comfortable. It had to face south, with a large main hall—flooded with clear light by day, cool and pleasant by night—big enough to hold everyone for meals and meetings, so they would no longer have to hunch their shoulders and curl up their legs.
The season had already turned to winter’s tail end, with winter receding and spring advancing. The weather was gradually warming, and two light showers had even fallen.
Without a calendar, no one knew the exact month. Only Li Cunxin, gauging by the temperature and the origins of the Twenty-Four Solar Terms, estimated it was around the Start of Spring to Rain Water period.
Seeing the stone axes and knives Zhao Penglai had brought, Xia Qing thought back to her own camp, which the black bear had commandeered.
Not only was there the food she and Yunxiu had stockpiled, but more importantly, there were some stone chisels and line threaders she had made. Though no match for iron tools, their edges had been painstakingly ground sharp—they fit her hand well. With them, cutting grooves and scoring lines would be much easier.
So Xia Qing began plotting: once the weather warmed, perhaps the black bear would leave their camp and wander off somewhere else to forage. She could seize the chance to retrieve those tools. Even with the sharpest teeth, that bear couldn’t swallow her stone chisel.
When Xia Qing shared this idea with the group, she immediately won their support.
“I’ll go with you,” Xu Yin said. His rough, deep voice always gave a sense of stability. “The weather’s perfect—hibernating animals are emerging. I’ll see if I can hunt some prey.” But Xia Qing had never been alone with him, let alone traveled far together. Her heart still held a bit of fear, and she shot glances at Yan Baiyu and Li Cunxin.
Yan Baiyu said, “Then I’ll go as well. With Alpha and the others leading, scouting for prey will be easier.”
Xu Yin nodded. Li Cunxin said, “Baiyu, take the path we used last time. You remember the bamboo grove along the way, right? Spring bamboo shoots should be sprouting now. If there are any, dig some up to bring back.”
“Alright,” Yan Baiyu replied. Then she said, “Yunxiu, you stay home.”
The three packed lightly. Xia Qing took a bundle of dry vine. Xu Yin carried a wooden staff with a sharpened stone spearhead tied to its tip.
Yan Baiyu brought her bow and arrows. Standing at the door, she let out a call. Three dots of gray-white shadow raced closer and clustered around her, circling.
Yan Baiyu scratched the back of Beta and Gamma’s necks. “You two behave and stay home.” Taking Alpha with her, she caught up to Xia Qing and Xu Yin, setting off on the same route they’d taken when rescuing Yunxiu and Xia Qing.
After the three left, the remaining people weren’t idle either.
Zhao Penglai was surveying the surrounding environment. Li Cunxin, having applied base fertilizer the day before, was next to the vegetable plot, leveling the soil with a rake. Several plots over, a field surface was covered with a layer of straw; that was the ginger she’d planted a few days ago.
A water jar sat at the edge of the field. Yunxiu leaned her head over it; a grass seed fell from her clothes, sending ripples across the water’s surface.
Yunxiu looked at something soaking in the water, pulled out a piece, and examined it: it was a sugarcane stalk with buds sprouting at the nodes. “Village Chief, you have sugarcane here? Why are you soaking them in water? They’ve sprouted.”
Ever since Xia Qing had first jokingly called Li Cunxin “Village Chief,” she’d grown more and more accustomed to it and never changed. She felt the title bestowed upon them a new relationship, making their connection and bond visible and tangible. Every time she used it, she felt less alone in this world.
Once Xia Qing started, Yunxiu also got into the habit of calling Li Cunxin Village Chief.
Li Cunxin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was hardly a village chief. What kind of village had only six people?
“I’m just encouraging germination. That’s sugarcane seed,” Li Cunxin said. “I’m waiting to plant them.”
Yunxiu squinted, examining them more carefully. It was just a section of sugarcane with buds. She asked Li Cunxin, who was walking over, “This is a seedling?”
“Normally, you use the tip of the sugarcane stalk for seedlings. But I don’t have enough,” Li Cunxin explained. “When I found these, there were only five or six stalks in one clump. So I cut the whole canes into sections—three or four nodes per section. Soaking them in limewater for germination. Once they grow in autumn, we’ll have quite a few.” Li Cunxin smiled and clapped Yunxiu on the shoulder. “By then, we’ll be able to chew on sugarcane. If they grow well and there are plenty of sprouts, we can even boil down sugar.”
Yunxiu’s eyes lit up. Sugar was also a crucial seasoning—for making brown sugar water, fillings for pastries, and caramelizing dishes for color.
Just thinking about it made Yunxiu’s hands itch. She nudged Li Cunxin. “Then let’s plant them quickly! I’ll help.”
Zhao Penglai returned from surveying the east and found them in the vegetable garden behind the house. The three of them planted the sugarcane together.
There weren’t many sugarcane seedlings, only enough for two ridges. After they finished planting, the three returned to the house dusty and dirt-streaked, washing their hands and faces.
Yunxiu glanced at the gradually darkening sky. “Should we wait for them to come back before lighting the stove to cook?”
Zhao Penglai said, “It’ll be dark soon. Traveling by night isn’t easy. They might end up camping outside tonight.”
“Possibly.” It took the better part of a day just to reach the forest from here, plus the time to find Yunxiu and Xia Qing’s old camp and hunt—one day was nowhere near enough for a round trip. “Let’s go ahead and start the fire to cook. We’ll make enough portions for them too. If they don’t come back, we can just save it and fry it up tomorrow.”
After the three finished their meal, they used the residual heat of the stove to boil water and wash their feet.
Then the sky went completely dark.
Li Cunxin stood in front of the house, gazing out for a while in the direction the three had departed.
Tree shadows loomed, standing silent. Moonlight painted the forest at the edge of her vision a deep, spectral blue.
Li Cunxin stroked the head of the Gray Wolf beside her. “Let’s go back.”
The clear yellow candlelight from inside the adobe house spilled out through the doorway. Li Cunxin walked in and saw Yunxiu coming over from the bamboo room, silently asking with her eyes.
Li Cunxin said, “They’re not back. They might be camping outside, heading back tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
Yunxiu silently retreated. Li Cunxin blew out the candle and lay down on the bed, eyes open in the darkness. Though all three were experienced at camping in the wild, with a wolf standing guard, she still couldn’t help worrying.
Li Cunxin slept poorly that night. The next morning, after washing up, lighting the fire, and eating, she went outside again to watch.
She kept watch all the way until high noon, when she finally spotted a moving silhouette at the forest’s edge.
Xia Qing was bounding and skipping her way back, shouting something as she ran.
Li Cunxin couldn’t hear clearly at first, frowning with a touch of anxiety as she walked over to meet her.
As she got closer, the voice grew clear.
“Village Chief, Village Chief! A huge pig!” Xia Qing was gesticulating wildly, her face glowing.
Li Cunxin: “???”
Only when Xu Yin approached the house, a black-and-white sow slung over his shoulder—its trotters tied, the animal having passed out—and dumped it on the ground, did everything make sense.
The three were dumbfounded.
Li Cunxin managed, “W-Where did you find this?”
Yan Baiyu placed the bundle of dried vine, tied around fresh bamboo shoots, into the kitchen. “Caught it in the forest.”
Xia Qing crowded close to Li Cunxin. “Didn’t even set a trap. Uncle Xu just knocked it out with one punch.”
“…”
Xu Yin wiped the sweat from his forehead. “What do you think, raise it, or butcher it now? My Talent includes cutting meat. I can handle the slaughter.”
Li Cunxin looked at Yan Baiyu, since she was most familiar with this kind of thing.
Yan Baiyu said, “Let’s raise it. If we’re lucky enough later to find a boar, we can breed them.”
Everyone began working together to build a pigsty. They couldn’t just tie the pig up like the ox and donkey; the pigsty had to be sturdy and couldn’t be too close to the living quarters, or else the smell would be awful.
They chose a spot behind the adobe house, near the vegetable garden.
Building this pigsty took considerable effort.
Yan Baiyu sloped the ground slightly so wastewater would naturally flow into a drainage ditch. Li Cunxin laid down a layer of clay and baked it dry.
Xu Yin rammed stakes with a wooden mallet. Zhao Penglai felled some bamboo. Yunxiu and Xia Qing used the bamboo to enclose all four sides of the pigsty, building it up to a height the pig couldn’t jump over. To prevent the pig from ramming it, they lashed the bamboo walls exceptionally tightly.
“Once the pig settles down a bit, I’ll put in a gate.”
After they finished the roof, they stood around the enclosure, staring at the pig inside.
The poor pig, having lost its freedom, could only eat and wait to die from now on.
The pig awoke from its unconscious stupor. The tall shadows at the edge of the pen loomed over it in a row.
It beheld the strange faces of these bizarre creatures, the twisted, hideous grins more terrifying than a tiger’s snarl or a hungry wolf’s bared fangs.
It shrank back, grunting and squealing. Suddenly, gathering its strength, it charged forward, slamming into a resilient wall and seeing stars.
Everyone studied the pig’s every move with faces full of loving pity.
Xia Qing mused, “This pig doesn’t look quite like the domestic pigs from our original world, nor like a wild boar from the mountains.”
Yan Baiyu said, “Looks like something in between the two.”
This spotted pig, with a black patch on its back, had more hair than a domestic pig but less than a wild boar. Its build was leaner than a domestic pig, yet fatter than a boar. Its snout was longer than a domestic pig’s, shorter than a boar’s. Its ears were smaller than a domestic pig’s, larger than a boar’s. Its tusks were very short, and its aggression seemed low. It fed on tender leaves, fruits, and seeds.
Yunxiu’s eyes swept inch by inch over the pig inside the pen, her gaze turning glassy as if possessed. She chanted under her breath like reciting a sutra: “The two hind legs for ham, the front legs for red-braising. Pig ears, pig head meat, pig tail for spiced stew. Pig liver for stir-fry, ribs for soup, tenderloin for sweet and sour. Large intestines braised, small intestines for sausage casing. Pig blood and offal for hotpot. Pork fat for rendering lard…”
A distinct chorus of swallowing sounds rose from around her.
Xia Qing could bear it no longer. She clapped a hand over Yunxiu’s mouth. “Stop your mouth, will you!”
Xu Yin glanced into the pen, his eyes calculating. “How about… I make another trip to the forest when I’m free? We could butcher this one first.”
“No, no,” Li Cunxin said. “Pigs aren’t that easy to catch. If we butcher it now, it won’t taste good—too lean, the meat will be tough. We need to raise it for a year, let it put on some fat. Marbled meat is the best. Raise it till year-end. If we still haven’t caught a boar by then, we’ll slaughter it for the New Year.”
“Alright, alright, let’s go back and eat.” Li Cunxin pushed and shooed the group, their mouths watering, away from the pigsty.
