Qin Ziheng sat on the other side of the stove, splitting bamboo with the bone knife.
How to weave back-baskets and vegetable baskets, Qin Ziheng knew. As a child, when there was nothing to do on rainy days, his grandfather would often sit in the main room weaving them, and take them to sell on market days.
Some old crafts had once been things nearly everyone could do, but as the times moved on, fewer and fewer learned them, and they fell into decline.
Among the younger generation now, few could weave carrying baskets or back-baskets. Qin Ziheng was an exception, as a child he’d woven plenty with his grandfather. Not just back-baskets and carrying baskets: he even knew how to make hemp rope, stools, earthenware jars. After all, the village had many old folk, and their families had been poor from the start, that era hadn’t developed much, so nearly everything they ate and wore they made themselves, rarely buying from outside, so they all had a craft in hand.
When Qin Ziheng was small and his grandfather went off to work, he’d leave him with the villagers to look after, every household had a craft to fall back on, and watching enough, Qin Ziheng had learned.
He’d just split the bamboo into strips when the meat finished cooking. Mao Xiaoshu had cut the cassava small, so it cooked quickly too.
They didn’t eat in the cave that evening. Qin Ziheng brought out the bowls and chopsticks, and he and Mao Xiaoshu sat by the stove and dug in.
The cassava soaked in chicken soup had a nice texture, much like yam, but with no salt it was very bland. Qin Ziheng ate two bowls and was full.
The moonlight wasn’t bright tonight. After the meal, Qin Ziheng took Mao Xiaoshu to bathe at the river and came back, his hair wasn’t dry yet, and it was still early. An overbearing CEO keeps overbearing hours, Qin Ziheng had worked years, overtime his norm, and wasn’t used to sleeping early. Seeing Mao Xiaoshu wasn’t sleepy either, he fed a few more sticks into the stove.
If Mao Xiaohe hadn’t come today and he hadn’t gone to the chief’s, he’d surely have just gone back into the cave with Mao Xiaoshu to lie down, after all, once you’re clean, what else is there to do but lie down.
But over the next two-plus months he’d have to go out looking for food every day, and back-baskets were essential. The cave had nothing in it now, four months of food wasn’t easy to find, firewood had to be prepared, a door made, fluff-grass cut, food stored, one thing after another, probably more than could be finished in two months. Making back-baskets couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
Qin Ziheng sat cross-legged by the stove. With no work to do, Mao Xiaoshu wrung out the four garments Qin Ziheng had washed and hung them on the big tree not far to the right of the cave.
As he hung them, he thought to himself: Qin Ziheng really did love being clean! Bathing, and washing clothes too, and scrubbing himself over and over in the bath, no wonder he was so fair! Aiya, this skirt was so small, and it had two big holes, why did Qin Ziheng like wearing two skirts? And Qin Ziheng’s skirts and clothes were all so strange.
Once the clothes were up he broke off a branch and came back to sit beside Qin Ziheng. There were mosquitoes outside the cave, and Qin Ziheng wanted him to go back in, but Mao Xiaoshu shook his head and waved the branch around Qin Ziheng, shooing mosquitoes for him.
Qin Ziheng was actually a bit embarrassed, because he was now stark naked. Even though Mao Xiaoshu was a man too, he felt rather shy, and wanted Mao Xiaoshu to go to sleep first. But Mao Xiaoshu wouldn’t go, and ran about in front of him bare-bottomed. Mao Xiaoshu’s bottom was very round and very white, like a big glutinous rice ball, quite cute, but swinging about so brazenly in front of him, it inexplicably made Qin Ziheng embarrassed on Mao Xiaoshu’s behalf.
He figured that since he and Mao Xiaoshu were both men, going bare-chested in just underwear wouldn’t matter, people at the beach wore only a pair of trunks, after all.
But right now he didn’t even have underwear, his had been washed and wasn’t dry, and he really couldn’t be as shameless as Mao Xiaoshu. On the way back he’d broken off two big leaves at the river, and now had them covering his lap, and even so he was “on pins and needles,” while Mao Xiaoshu could still run and jump.
Mao Xiaoshu was really… something, he thought.
But having Mao Xiaoshu there did help. Just during the meal earlier, Qin Ziheng had been bitten by mosquitoes into two big itchy welts, and now, sitting this long, not a single welt had risen.
With the skill in hand, weaving a carrying basket from start to finish didn’t take too long. Qin Ziheng made his rather large, so it took over two hours for one, though not entirely finished, he still had to weave two straps and attach them before it could be worn.
Mao Xiaoshu hadn’t known what a back-basket even was or what it was for, but once Qin Ziheng finished, he tossed the bone knife into it before Mao Xiaoshu’s eyes and slung it onto his back, and Mao Xiaoshu’s mind flashed and he instantly understood, hopping on his feet and eagerly begging Qin Ziheng to let him try it too.
And so that night Mao Xiaoshu walked back and forth outside the cave with the basket on his back, eyes bright. When Qin Ziheng finished weaving the second one, Mao Xiaoshu was still walking, still delighted.
Qin Ziheng told him it was very late and to go to sleep, but he wouldn’t go for anything, insisting on pacing about. Later Qin Ziheng finally coaxed him into bed, only to find he wanted to sleep hugging the back-basket.
Why did he like it so much?
Qin Ziheng was helpless and could only let him be, luckily the stone bed was wide enough that one more basket wasn’t a squeeze.
Outside the cave the night was dim, a hazy crescent moon hanging high over the treetops, frogs croaking endlessly by the river. Before sleep Mao Xiaoshu wouldn’t let go of the basket, but when Qin Ziheng woke in the middle of the night, the basket had “wandered” to the foot of the bed, and Mao Xiaoshu was hugging his arm, sleeping soundly.
He gently flicked the tip of Mao Xiaoshu’s nose and, eyes closed, drifted back to sleep.
The clothes, hung out overnight, were thoroughly dry. Early the next morning the two dressed, shouldered their baskets, and hurried to the bamboo grove, Mao Xiaoshu was excited the whole way.
No beast had ever dug traps in the grove, and the pheasants had no defenses, so nearly all seven traps had a decent catch, some more, some less.
Thirty-four Cluck-Cluck Beasts at one go, Mao Xiaoshu was giddy with delight.
It sounded like a lot, but these pheasants really were small. Qin Ziheng weighed them, some three catties, some barely two, some not even two. That wasn’t right. If the Beast World’s earthworms and rabbits were so big, by rights these pheasants should be a bit bigger than modern ones too, but these fowl…
It suddenly came to Qin Ziheng: there was actually a kind of fowl in bamboo groves called the bamboo partridge, small birds, usually no bigger than an ordinary bird.
The beasts here were all rather large, so these might be the Beast World’s bamboo partridges, being of this world, bigger than a bird, though no match for a chicken. But small as they were, they were meat all the same.
The fowl had their legs bound, Qin Ziheng stuffed them into the baskets, filling both exactly, then he and Mao Xiaoshu gathered two bundles of firewood to lay on top, and headed home.
Back at the cave, without being told, Mao Xiaoshu picked up the pot and ran to the river of his own accord, he’d handle heating the water. Qin Ziheng dug up earthworms and ran into the grove again.
The traps had to be reset, and then baited afresh.
By the time he finished and got back, Mao Xiaoshu had all the water heated. Qin Ziheng picked out five big ones to kill, then, looking at the remaining pile of Cluck-Cluck Beasts squawking and already dropping plenty of mess, suddenly felt a bit “vexed.”
This many, however much Mao Xiaoshu could eat, they couldn’t possibly finish them in two days. So now that these bamboo partridges were caught, wouldn’t he have to feed them too? Weave a cage as well? A cage was easy to weave, just a bit of effort, not the crux. The crux was how to keep them. There was no feed here, no rice, he couldn’t spend hours every day finding wild greens and digging bugs for bamboo partridges. Dozens were fine, but a few hundred, how many bugs would that take to dig? The partridges were thin to begin with, a few days of keeping would only make them thinner, and then what would they eat?
How did the Beast World preserve food? Qin Ziheng didn’t know. What he knew was air-dried meat and cured meat, but cured meat needed to be salted first, and salt-stone was scarce in the Beast World. On the way to the chief’s yesterday, he hadn’t seen any meat hung outside the beasts’ stone houses.
By rights, with the snow season coming, everyone should already be busy storing food. Cured meat couldn’t be made, so it could only be air-dried, yet he hadn’t seen meat hanging outside anyone’s cave.
Very strange indeed.
Mao Xiaoshu, huffing away, saw Qin Ziheng had only taken five Cluck-Cluck Beasts and asked whether the rest were to be killed in the evening.
If they were killed in the evening, that many would be too much to handle!
Qin Ziheng said, of course not, kill them and they couldn’t be finished, in this heat they’d probably spoil.
“They won’t spoil, they won’t spoil, Xiaoshu can dig a cave.” Mao Xiaoshu pointed above the stone cave. “Xiaoshu will dig a cave later.”
Qin Ziheng didn’t follow, and asked a couple more questions before understanding. It turned out the tribe’s beasts always stored food in caves. It was cool inside this mountain, a few degrees below zero, so food kept there wouldn’t spoil, that was how the beasts could store winter food months in advance.
So those small stone caves he’d seen yesterday, a way up off the ground, were the beasts’ “refrigerators.” Qin Ziheng found it rather marvelous, and asked Mao Xiaoshu whether he could dig one, the stone was so hard.
Mao Xiaoshu lifted his chin. “I can.” He preened. “Xiaoshu’s claws are invincibly sharp, dig hard and it comes right out.”
As if afraid Qin Ziheng might think he was boasting, Mao Xiaoshu transformed with a whoosh into his original form, and struck the cliff face with his two paws on the spot, a chunk of stone came scratching loose.
Seeing the fallen chunk was big, Mao Xiaoshu was instantly satisfied, his tail spinning like a propeller, his big watery eyes fixed on Qin Ziheng, and he mewed.
Qin Ziheng: “…”
Truly marvelous.
Everything in this Beast World was marvelous. If one day he saw a sow climb a tree, Qin Ziheng felt he wouldn’t even be surprised.
As a cat Mao Xiaoshu was very round, like a ball. Qin Ziheng cuddled him a couple of times, gave him a couple of rubs, then set him down. “All right, change back, let’s kill the chickens.”
Once Mao Xiaoshu changed back, Qin Ziheng looked at his hands, no injury, not even a hint of redness. “…Is your sister this impressive too?” he asked.
“No.” Mao Xiaoshu shook his head. “Sister can’t dig caves, and neither can brother-in-law.”
Qin Ziheng looked at him. “This brother-in-law you speak of is a cat too?”
Mao Xiaoshu: “Yes he is.”
Qin Ziheng: “Then why can’t they dig, but you can?”
Mao Xiaoshu glanced furtively all around like a thief, and finding no one, cupped a hand over his mouth, stood on tiptoe, and leaned to Qin Ziheng’s ear as if sharing a secret. “Because Xiaoshu is the most impressive.”
Qin Ziheng: “…”