That morning Qin Ziheng had asked plenty of questions. The tribe’s beasts lived by hunting, so a strong beast must be a tribe’s treasure, just as a strong, able-bodied man was the mainstay of a household in the farming era.
And hunting was very dangerous, so ordinarily a tribe had relatively few male beasts.
For a tribe to lose even a single beast was no small loss.
If he really were from another tribe, then now that he was awake he ought indeed to go back and stop being a bother.
But the reality was that he wasn’t of this world at all, where could he go back to? If he left now, tonight he’d probably be sleeping in the mountains, and by tomorrow he’d likely be in the belly of some wild beast.
And the snow season was little more than two months away, to truly leave here, leave the Fluffy Tribe, would without doubt be courting death.
Mao Xiaoshu currently lived alone. He had nowhere to go, so could he stay with Mao Xiaoshu for a while first?
“Xiaoshu.” Qin Ziheng felt a bit awkward, his face faintly hot. “Xiaoshu, I don’t have a home.”
Mao Xiaoshu jerked his head up to look at him. “Ah?”
“I don’t even know where I came from,” Qin Ziheng said. “I think it must be very dangerous out there. It’s not a nice thing to say, it’s a bit like I’m sponging off you, but… could you take me in for a while?”
Mao Xiaoshu’s breathing grew rough, his chest heaving unsteadily, and he asked in disbelief, “What do you mean?”
His tone was unlike his usual one, carrying a careful caution and unease. Hearing it, Qin Ziheng felt an inexplicable pang. He could faintly sense that Mao Xiaoshu was happy, and also afraid he’d leave.
That set his mind a little at ease, and the hard-to-say words came out less painfully the second time. “I mean, could I stay together with you…”
“Yes! Yes! Yes.” Before Qin Ziheng had even finished, Mao Xiaoshu was shouting, so happy he wrapped his arms tightly around Qin Ziheng’s, his cheeks flushed. “Don’t go back, stay with Xiaoshu. Xiaoshu has a stone bed, we can sleep together. Xiaoshu has pucker-fruit too, and cut lots of fluff-grass today, and tomorrow Xiaoshu will cut more, to make you a warm bed.”
Qin Ziheng breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Mao Xiaoshu shook his head hard, overjoyed.
He’d wanted Qin Ziheng to stay all along. He didn’t want to live alone, he wanted company. Qin Ziheng was good-looking, which he liked very much, and after one morning together, Qin Ziheng had spoken to him gently the whole time, unlike the other beasts of the tribe, who, though kind to him, usually grew a bit ‘impatient’ after only a few words with him.
Because they thought his mind didn’t work, and that saying more was a waste of breath. When it came to building a firewood stove, the other beasts, seeing he couldn’t do it right, would tell him to step aside and build it for him themselves, not like Qin Ziheng, who all but encouraged him, asking whether he wanted to try.
Qin Ziheng even helped him into his hide garment. Before, only his mother, father, and sister had helped him dress. He decided Qin Ziheng was even better.
That Qin Ziheng could stay filled him with a joy beyond words, all at once his whole body had strength. Already at the cave mouth, he didn’t go in, but turned to head outside again.
Qin Ziheng caught him quickly. “Where are you going?”
“To find pucker-fruit for you.” Mao Xiaoshu pointed to the woods on the left of the far bank.
It was as if something lightly scratched at the tip of Qin Ziheng’s heart. Mao Xiaoshu’s mind was simple, when he was happy, when he wanted to be good to someone, all he could think to do was give them something good to eat with all his might, because to him, perhaps having a bite to eat was the happiest thing of all.
He never spoke these words aloud, but his bright eyes said them all for him.
Qin Ziheng pinched his ear and said softly, “Go on then. Give me the fire, this knife.”
“Okay.” Mao Xiaoshu handed him the bone knife and hurried off again.
Only once Mao Xiaoshu was out of sight did Qin Ziheng take the bone knife and head for the bamboo grove.
Although he still found it hard to accept that “one car accident and I’m in another world,” his mind still muddled, muddled as he was, he could no longer lie still.
Perhaps it was that his childhood had been too impoverished, watching Grandpa cut rice for people under the heart-scorching sun for a few dozen yuan, and to save a single yuan walk half an hour to the street carrying chickens and ducks, and he himself had once lacked money, had suffered the bitterness of having none, so he had a craving for money unlike ordinary people.
Now his pockets were cleaner than his face, “home” was empty and bare, and even tonight’s dinner had no source yet. How could Qin Ziheng possibly rest? Mao Xiaoshu, this beast seemed unable even to look after himself, Qin Ziheng couldn’t pin his hopes on him. He inevitably felt a sense of urgency. Even though he still didn’t know what to do going forward, what the next step should be, hadn’t yet sorted out any of it, still felt as if he were dreaming, those things could be set aside for later. What to eat tonight, even what to eat tomorrow, was the pressing matter at hand.
Qin Ziheng reached the bamboo grove and cut down a small bamboo.
He didn’t know what bone this bone knife was made from, but it was unexpectedly sharp and easy to use.
With the bamboo cut, he didn’t hurry back, but chose a shady spot to sit and set to work.
Back when Grandpa was still alive, when there was no odd-job work and it rained so the ox didn’t need grazing, Grandpa would sit in the house weaving dustpans, back-baskets, and carrying baskets to sell in the county town. Qin Ziheng had grown up at his side, often helping him, and knew all this work.
He split the bamboo into strips, shaved them into thin slats, and after a while wove a square bamboo board a bit over half a meter long.
That done, he cut another bamboo, whittled one end to a point, and, taking the board and the bone knife, went into the middle of the grove.
That morning, when he’d come to gather bamboo twigs, Qin Ziheng had noticed something off. By rights the grove should be strewn with fallen leaves everywhere, yet in some spots the bamboo leaves looked as if raked aside by something, with claw marks left on the ground. He’d thought it was bamboo partridges, since those birds liked to roost in bamboo groves, until he saw the droppings nearby, and realized it might be wild fowl.
Not much weed grew in the grove, it looked fairly ‘clean.’ But bamboo shed leaves year-round, and the rotting leaves and the somewhat damp, soft soil beneath were an insect paradise, it was no surprise there’d be wild fowl in here.
There was nothing to eat now. Qin Ziheng wasn’t sure what the beasts outside looked like, but recalling that suitcase-sized rabbit, he could well imagine the size of the others.
Until his body had fully recovered, he didn’t want to risk his life.
The soft soil was easy to dig, and before long Qin Ziheng had scooped out a deep pit. He pulled up a grass vine, cut a length of bamboo, tied the board to the bamboo with the vine, and ‘covered’ the pit with it. He pressed lightly down on the left side of the board, unevenly weighted, its right side immediately flipped up, and the whole board sprang upright in an instant.
Good, a simple trap was made. If a wild fowl came, so long as it didn’t stand dead-center on the board, the moment it stepped onto the board it would drop into the pit.
Qin Ziheng scattered some bamboo leaves over the board to conceal the trap. Afraid the wild fowl wouldn’t take the bait, he went back to the river, dug up a handful of earthworms, killed them, wrapped them in a leaf, and returned to the grove, spreading them evenly over the trap and the area around it.
Whether he’d catch a fowl, he didn’t know.
Qin Ziheng hoped he would, otherwise he’d go hungry.
Finished, he returned to the cave. Mao Xiaoshu wasn’t back yet. Qin Ziheng went to the river to wash his hands, then came back and started drying the fluff-grass. Toward evening, as the sky was darkening, Mao Xiaoshu finally came running back drenched in sweat, calling loudly while still far from the cave, “Qin Ziheng, Qin Ziheng.”
Qin Ziheng came out of the cave.
Mao Xiaoshu saw he was still there, Qin Ziheng really had stayed. Realizing this, a big smile spread across his face at once, and his steps quickened.
“Qin Ziheng, I found lots of pucker-fruit, look.”
He’d rolled up his hide garment, the pucker-fruit inside must be plenty, for it bulged. The moment he trotted up to Qin Ziheng he eagerly showed him.
Qin Ziheng swept a glance, about a dozen. “That many.”
Mao Xiaoshu looked at him, blinked, and wore an expression of expecting something.
Qin Ziheng caught on instantly, and said, holding back a laugh, “Wah, Xiaoshu is really impressive.”
Mao Xiaoshu pressed his lips together and suddenly turned his back to him.
Qin Ziheng leaned over to look and found him with his head down, smiling brightly, making no sound, but his eyes sparkling.
Qin Ziheng felt both a pang and amusement.
Was it that no one had ever approved of him, ever praised him, so that a single simple sentence from him could make Mao Xiaoshu this happy?
Qin Ziheng was silent a moment, then said again without stinting, “Xiaoshu, you’re wonderful.”
Mao Xiaoshu had already turned back around, but hearing Qin Ziheng praise him again, immediately turned away once more, his back to Qin Ziheng, smiling until his eyes curved into slits, yet saying bashfully, “Xiaoshu isn’t really impressive. Xiaoshu is only so-so impressive.”
How could anyone be so funny? Qin Ziheng couldn’t hold back anymore and laughed out loud.
Pucker-fruit wasn’t tasty, hungry as he was, Qin Ziheng ate only two. After eating he always felt as though a layer of something coated his teeth, leaving his whole mouth uncomfortable. But Mao Xiaoshu seemed used to eating them, or perhaps because he’d worked all day and was terribly hungry, he gnawed down eight.
Qin Ziheng secretly glanced at his stomach and saw no bulge, it was still flat.
Mao Xiaoshu’s stomach really was like a black hole.
“Xiaoshu.” The two had just finished eating when someone called from outside. Mao Xiaoshu stood up. “It’s Brother She Qi.”
He ran out. Standing at the cave mouth, Qin Ziheng saw the newcomer was a man of about twenty-two or twenty-three. The man didn’t look toward the cave, but simply pressed a good many wild fruits into Mao Xiaoshu’s hands. “Today I saw lots of round-fruit at the gathering grounds. Thinking you like them, I picked some extra to bring you. These few pucker-fruit, I ran into your sister on the way, knowing I was coming to find you, she asked me to bring them over. Take them home to eat.”
Mao Xiaoshu said obediently, “Thank you, Brother She Qi.”
She Qi shook his head. “It’s only some wild fruit. Head home now. It’s getting dark, don’t go running about outside anymore. I’m going back to fix Xiao Qi something to eat.”
Mao Xiaoshu came running back cradling the fruit.