There were only a few ways to extend the shelf life of food, and it all depended on what suited the current situation.
First, refrigeration was out of the question. In winter, one could use nature's freezer, but digging an underground cellar on the spot wasn't realistic either.
Second, curing food with salt or sugar. Given the tribe's attitude toward salt and honeybees, both were clearly extremely scarce.
Third, the smoking and drying method.
Liang Ye rubbed his little paws together, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Shan Cang. "That's the one!"
The one what?
Shan Cang was puzzled, but meeting the cub's eager, experimental gaze, he instinctively indulged the little one's wild ideas. It wasn't the first time, after all.
Liang Ye rummaged through the firewood pile to find suitable wood for smoking meat. Back in the countryside, every household would smoke cured meat for the New Year. When he was little, his grandmother often dragged him over to tend the fire, and he knew by heart which woods shouldn't be used for smoking meat.
For example, fir and eucalyptus could make the cured meat taste bitter and weren't particularly healthy.
First choice would be oak or apple wood, which imparted a distinct flavor to the cured meat—either rich and mellow or soft and gentle. Next came longan wood, jujube wood, and other uniquely flavored woods.
The Beast World seemed to have its own ecosystem. Many of the plants and animals here were unfamiliar to Liang Ye, and the wood under his paws was all mixed together, making identification much harder.
Life wasn't easy. Yeye sighed and did his best to pick out wood that was thoroughly dried and free of resin and pungent odors. A tiny lump of fluff, he grunted and tugged at the logs in the corner, looking for all the world like a diligent sorting worker.
Master Ye was hard at work today too.
A faint smile surfaced in Shan Cang's eyes as he stepped in to help. One look from Liang Ye and he knew exactly which pile each piece of firewood belonged to.
With the wolf and the Ye working in perfect sync, they quickly picked out the suitable wood.
When Grandmother smoked cured meat for the New Year, she would first rub the meat all over with salt, Sichuan peppercorns, and other spices, let it marinate for a while, then hang it under the eaves to air-dry. After that, the meat went into an iron barrel for smoking, and finally hung from the wooden beams of the kitchen, exposed to smoke and fire day after day.
Those cured meats could last from the beginning of the year all the way to the end. As a child, Liang Ye often craned his little head up, drooling at the meat, but it hung too high for him to reach. The tabby cat next door, however, managed to steal some.
With limited resources, Liang Ye skipped the earlier steps and went straight to smoking. The cave was soon filled with choking smoke.
"Cough, cough, cough…" Liang Ye coughed until tears streamed down his face.
Shan Cang shooed him to the side. "Smoking it with smoke, no open flames, right?"
"Mm-hmm." Liang Ye nodded through his tears.
"I've got it." Shan Cang gave him a reassuring look.
If there was anyone Liang Ye could trust unconditionally, it was Shan Cang. Since his help wasn't needed here, he trotted off to examine the mountain of Moomoo Beast meat and the various parts that had been removed from the beast.
That was genuine cowhide—perfect for making little leather shoes. In the modern world, Liang Ye mostly wore synthetic leather, but here in this primitive world, his treatment had actually been upgraded.
However…
Liang Ye looked down at his four furry little paws. It didn't seem like he needed shoes.
His gaze drifted to the tall man's bare feet. Liang Ye was curious—didn't Shan Cang's feet hurt from walking around barefoot?
"No."
The man's magnetic, pleasant voice rang out, and only then did Liang Ye suddenly realize he'd spoken his thoughts aloud without meaning to.
His triangular ears twitched shyly, flushing crimson beneath the cover of pure white fur.
Liang Ye pointed at the Moomoo Beast hide and suggested, "We can keep this to make shoes."
Shan Cang was puzzled. "What are shoes?"
Liang Ye's round, apricot-shaped eyes went wide, his mouth falling open. Slowly, his eyes filled with sympathy and pity.
Shan Cang felt his scalp tingle under that gaze, utterly bewildered.
No wonder he didn't wear shoes—he'd never even seen them! Liang Ye had been wondering how anyone could dislike something as comfortable as shoes.
Liang Ye gestured animatedly. "Shoes are things you wear on your feet! They cover your feet and protect them from getting hurt!"
Shan Cang thought for a moment but remained confused. "I don't get hurt. No need."
Just imagining his feet being wrapped up made Shan Cang feel incredibly uncomfortable.
He didn't like being constrained. Beastmen valued freedom above all.
Liang Ye rolled his eyes. Fine, there was no reasoning with a Beastman like Shan Cang who'd never experienced the good things in life. Just because Shan Cang didn't need them didn't mean others didn't. He was sure that fragile cubs, Demi-Beastmen, and elderly Beastmen would all love them.
The fat would be kept for rendering oil, the bones for stewing soup, the stomach for a water pouch, the tendons for rope…
The Moomoo Beast really was a treasure from head to toe.
Liang Ye beamed with joy, cheerfully sorting through the various parts of the Moomoo Beast.
Shan Cang's cave was fairly well-equipped. Though he didn't use them often, he had all the necessary cooking utensils like stone pots.
Liang Ye had Shan Cang build another stove and set up the largest stone pot on it. He cut the fat into pieces and put them in the pot to render over low heat. The white chunks of fat bounced around in the pot, oil splattering everywhere. Liang Ye, perched on Shan Cang's shoulder, instinctively flinched and tumbled backward.
The panicked Yeye flailed all four paws wildly, certain he was about to become flattened Ye cake—until a large hand caught him securely.
Liang Ye felt like he was stepping on cotton, his limbs weak and his head spinning. He vowed never to climb to high places again, no more standing on Shan Cang's shoulders.
"Stir it! Stir it!" Catching a faint whiff of something burning, Liang Ye hopped around like a rabbit.
Shan Cang moved quickly but without any sign of panic, lifting a branch to poke at the Moomoo Beast meat that was on the verge of burning. In just that short span of time, the white meat in the stone pot had begun to turn golden, shrinking rapidly in size as clear oil was gradually rendered out, more and more of it, until it submerged the slightly curled cracklings.
The scorched, fragrant aroma was irresistible, making one swallow saliva again and again. The uniquely domineering scent of fat mixed with the meat's fragrance stirred up the greedy cravings deep in one's belly.
Even though Shan Cang had rarely eaten his fill before, smelling this fragrance still made his mouth water uncontrollably, his Adam's apple bobbing. The golden, crispy bits of meat tumbled in the oil, bubbling and seeming like they might leap straight into his mouth at any moment, letting him taste just what kind of delicacy this was.
"Yay, we get to eat cracklings!" Liang Ye jumped onto Shan Cang's lap, took a deep breath, and swallowed frantically.
Shan Cang pondered the name "cracklings"—the leftover bits after rendering fat, weren't they exactly that? But where did such fragrant bits come from?
This was clearly the essence.
The cracklings were scooped out, and Liang Ye couldn't wait to take a bite. Shan Cang held the bowl, and the little one circled around the man's feet, his tail spinning like a propeller.
Worried about stepping on him, Shan Cang raised the bowl high and commanded the little cub, "Sit."
Liang Ye immediately sat up straight, chest puffed out and head held high—clearly a well-trained little pup.
Shan Cang was slightly surprised. The little fellow was actually this obedient, so obedient it made one reluctant to be harsh.
He picked up a crackling and placed it in the cub's mouth. His fingertip was grazed by the impatient little one, whose baby teeth had no real bite to them, only leaving a strange ticklish sensation.
"Nom nom nom, delicious!" The pup's eyes lit up like big lightbulbs.
Almost instinctively, he licked Shan Cang's fingers wildly, trying to suck every last bit of grease from his fingertips.
Shan Cang: "…"
He would never feed a cub by hand again.
Shan Cang was a rare Beastman in the Wolf Moon Tribe who loved cleanliness. Not just the rough-and-tumble Beastmen—even the beauty-obsessed Demi-Beastmen couldn't hold a candle to him.
Disgusted, he set down the stone bowl and turned to quickly wash his hands.
Yeye licked his greasy mouth, still savoring the taste.
Oh ho, so the Beast World had people with cleanliness obsessions too.
Being licked by a pup was an honor, yet this man didn't appreciate his good fortune.
Liang Ye gave a little snort through his nose.
"Awooo—"
On that stormy, windy night, wolf howls suddenly rose one after another.
Liang Ye's body froze instantly, petrified on the spot.
Wh-what's going on?
Shan Cang noticed the cub trembling, pulled him into his arms, and stroked his back. "Don't be afraid, it's just the Beastmen of the tribe."
Not wild beasts—it was the Wolf Moon Tribe's Beastmen howling?
Liang Ye was baffled. "What are they yelling about?"
Shan Cang's gaze darted around a couple of times, then he rubbed his nose, looking a bit embarrassed to say it.
Yeye stretched his head forward, pressing close to the man's handsome face, his fluffy little pup face full of curiosity.
Shan Cang pushed his little head away and answered with some shame: "They're asking what I'm making, that it smells so good, and they want to eat."
"Woo woo woo woo—"
"Hungry hungry hungry hungry—"
The wailing howls shook the heavens, unending.
"Pfft!"
Liang Ye collapsed onto Shan Cang in laughter, revealing his soft pink little belly.
He suddenly realized—he and Shan Cang were basically poisoning the night with their cooking.
Separated by the raging storm, tormented by the scent that clawed at their hearts, yet unable to come over and mooch a meal—of course all they could do was howl a couple of times to vent.
The Beastmen had barely endured the aroma of the roasted meat earlier, and now, deep in the night when they were sleeping soundly, they were abruptly awakened by the thick smell of rendered fat, drool pooling everywhere.
Their keen noses made them realize—that tantalizing smell wasn't a dream. It was coming from their chief's cave!
Even with the rain washing over the earth and the fragrance of soil and grass filling the air, nothing could stop the food's aroma from burrowing straight into their nostrils.
What was the chief doing? What kind of delicious thing had he made?
So fragrant, so fragrant, so fragrant!
It smelled so good they had half a mind to charge through the rain into the chief's cave.
But they had to hold back—that was the chief's cave, and they couldn't beat him anyway!
The most they dared do was howl a couple of times to ask.
"Mama, it smells so good, Tian He wants to eat." Tian He stared longingly at the curtain of rain, his tail and ears drooping limp.
Li and Qing exchanged glances. They wanted to eat too.
"Tian He, the rain's too heavy. Just make do with some Gugu Beast meat," Qing said, stuffing strips of Gugu Beast meat into Tian He's hands.
Little Tian He sat there obediently, one hand holding the meat, big pearl-like tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Waaah, I don't want it—"
"I want the yummy smell!"
The cub burst into loud sobs, and Qing and Li scrambled frantically, trying every way to soothe the child.
A similar scene played out in the other two households. Unlike Tian He's family's warmth or Gui's family's helplessness, Dong's family had turned into a full-blown brawl.
In the big cave, three minors drooled endlessly, each glaring at the others with disdain before turning their heads in separate directions to let their saliva flow.
Tong had a feeling that whoever made such fragrant food had to be the cub. The chief was impressive too, but the cub was even more impressive.
Come to think of it, what was the cub's name?
He'd asked Bo, who sat by the fire twisting rope and replied with a smile, "The cub's still young, probably hasn't been named yet."
After a pause, Bo added, "Then again, maybe he has. Next time you see the cub, you can ask."
Tong pointed at himself, then nodded firmly under Bo's encouraging gaze. "Alright, I'll ask."
"You want to give me a name?" Liang Ye looked taken aback.
Shan Cang nodded. Calling him "little one" all the time wasn't very convenient—there were several cubs in the tribe, and once there were more, it would be hard to tell who was being addressed.
"I already have a name." The words slipped out of Liang Ye's mouth.
His name had been casually given by his mother, because she'd loved eating coconuts while pregnant with him.
Though it carried no deep meaning, it had been his for twenty-six years, and he was long used to it. Suddenly changing it to something else would require getting accustomed to all over again—too much trouble.
"You have a name?" This time it was Shan Cang's turn to be surprised.
Three-month-old beastmen cubs usually weren't given names, because there was a good chance it would be in vain—the cub might not survive, and it would only add to the grief.
But the series of events that had unfolded recently highlighted Liang Ye's uniqueness. Even if he was small in stature, frail in constitution, and delicate in temperament, Shan Cang was certain he would survive.
Perhaps it was precisely because of his extraordinary nature that he was especially weak.
The fact that the cub already had a name further proved how special he was.
Shan Cang's gaze at the little one grew complex and deep, like a bottomless lake.
"What is it?"