Bai Yun had guessed right, Bai Shuo really did have his own plan, though for now it was still just a rough idea.
Over the past eight years, Bai Shuo had lived through eight rainy seasons and snow seasons, and he understood exactly what those two seasons meant for the Feather Clan. The year he’d hatched, over a dozen chicks had been born into the tribe, several years later, only six chicks his and Bai Su’s age were still around. The single biggest cause of chick mortality was food shortage, precious few Feather Clan families, like Bai Xun and Bai Yun’s, managed to keep every single hatched chick alive.
Of all the Feather Clan who successfully hatched, fewer than a third survived to adulthood.
And hunting after reaching adulthood was riddled with its own dangers, the Feather Clan had flight, sharp claws, and beaks, but the slightest slip could still mean serious injury.
From childhood through adulthood, the Feather Clan faced no end of dangers. During the rainy season, chicks exposed to too much rain would fall sick, during the snow season, with temperatures plunging, frostbite and freezing deaths were far from rare, no matter how well insulated a cave might be, no one could stay cooped up inside forever, and the Feather Clan didn’t hibernate, even during the snow season, they still had to go out searching for food.
For the Feather Clan, the two things that mattered most were food and shelter, with enough food, the odds of a chick dying young would drop sharply.
Ever since his memories of his past life had returned, Bai Shuo had wanted to do something to improve everyone’s lives. It was just that before, unable to turn human, he’d had no choice but to bear with it no matter what he wanted to do. Now things were different, he’d become human, could communicate with others, and could express his own ideas.
There was a great deal Bai Shuo wanted to accomplish, but for now, he was still just a chick. He knew perfectly well that even if he went and pitched his ideas to the chieftain right now, no one would take him seriously, at best, they’d think he was just playing around. Trust from his own family alone wasn’t enough, his family would believe in him unconditionally and go along with whatever he asked, but others wouldn’t.
Changing a tribe’s long-standing way of life was never an easy thing to do, before people could see results with their own eyes, most Feather Clan wouldn’t act rashly on a whim. Put another way, if the tribe could be swayed by a few casual words into abandoning habits built up over many years, it wouldn’t have survived and developed steadily for this long in the first place.
You can’t get fat off one bite, you have to eat one mouthful at a time, and things have to be done one at a time, if he wanted his words to carry real weight with people, he first needed to demonstrate real ability and earn their trust.
And food, for him right now, was without question the best tool available. The more people who tasted his cooking, the more people would come to believe what he said, and once he had more people’s trust, whatever else he suggested down the road would be taken seriously too, instead of dismissed as an idle joke and forgotten. Not to mention, processing the meat for trade wasn’t just a way to earn food, it would let him practice his cooking skills as well.
Three birds with one stone (Three birds with one stone (one action, three gains) (Yī jǔ sān dé, 一舉三得) – idiom, a single move that nets multiple benefits at once), why not do it? Bai Shuo scooped out the finished pan-fried slices, laid down a second layer, and handed a piece to the Feather Clan member who’d just asked about the food. “Try a bite first, then decide if you want to trade.” Sampling mattered too, after all, two pieces of raw meat for one piece of pan-fried meat wasn’t exactly cheap, and Bai Shuo wasn’t going to be stingy about handing out this one slice.
The Feather Clan member took the wrapped slice and popped it into his mouth. Chewy enough to bite through with barely any effort, and nothing like the blandness of boiled meat, a rich, savory-salty flavor filled his mouth. He finished it in no time, turned, and dashed off toward the caves, leaving behind just one sentence as he went.
“I’m going to get some meat!”
Before anyone else had even snapped out of it, that same Feather Clan member had already come running back with two pieces of meat in hand, clearly a fresh share from today’s distribution. During a season with plenty of food, the Feather Clan generally didn’t eat every last scrap of the prey they caught, every day, some would be set aside as a reserve. That way, when hunting came up empty, the cave’s stored food could tide them over for a while.
“Bai Liang, is it really that good?” Seeing his reaction, another Feather Clan member asked.
Bai Liang didn’t answer the question, instead, he handed the meat over to Bai Shuo first. “I want to trade for a bowl of pan-fried meat slices.”
Once Bai Shuo accepted it, only then did Bai Liang turn and brag to the one who’d asked. “This is absolutely the tastiest food I have ever eaten in my life! Just as easy to bite through as cluck-bird eggs.”
Bai Xun and the others had already been primed by the crackling earlier, and even they hadn’t been able to stop craving more after the pan-fried meat, never mind Bai Liang, who’d only ever eaten plain, simple ingredients before, there was simply no resisting the pull of a food this good. Two-for-one felt like a bit of a loss, sure, but the thought of the delicious food waiting for him made Bai Liang’s mouth water, he just hoped Bai Shuo’s family would hurry up and finish eating, so his turn would come faster.
Most of the food the Feather Clan ate had a fairly tough texture, cluck-bird eggs were one of the rare foods that were both soft and tasty. Hearing Bai Liang describe it that way, a few Feather Clan members wavered, if it really was that good, maybe they should trade a little and try it too?
……
Bai Shuo set aside a portion of the pan-fried meat, and carried it over along with the earlier batch of crackling to find Wu Yan, if Wu Yan hadn’t caught him that day when he fell from such a great height off the cliff, there was no telling whether he’d even be in one piece right now, let alone cooking dinner here.
Wu Yan was in the middle of eating, his food was, of course, grilled meat too, and compared to everyone else, Wu Cang’s grilling skills were genuinely hard to put a positive spin on. As a Feather Clan member with an enormous appetite, Wu Cang liked to grill all his meat in one go, since there was so much meat, naturally he threw in the maximum number of branches too, and as for whether it charred, or how much, that was entirely down to luck.
After eating grilled meat that tasted like half-burnt firewood a few too many times, Wu Yan had learned early on to fend for himself, from the age of six on, grilling had basically become his job at home.
Sitting beside Wu Yan, Wu Cang finished off two pieces of grilled meat, felt like something was still missing from his meal, glanced around, and, not finding what he wanted, asked his own chick, “Yan, where’d you put the Redtop fruit?” A few pieces of fruit right after the meat would round things off perfectly.
Without even looking up, Wu Yan answered, “Ate it all.”
Wu Cang wasn’t quite convinced. “It was still here a second ago, when did you eat it?” He and his chick had been right by the fire the whole time, and he definitely hadn’t seen the chick eat anything.
Wu Yan replied without missing a beat, “Just now.” Then he looked up and, spotting Bai Shuo emerging from the crowd across the way, paused mid-bite.
Wu Cang didn’t notice his reaction, muttering to himself off to the side, “Ugh, don’t want to eat leaf-greens.” Fruit and leaf-greens were both foods you had to eat every day, or you’d fall ill, though exactly what went wrong differed from person to person. For Wu Cang, it was almost always his teeth, the ache would flare up in the middle of the night and keep him from sleeping, bad enough to make him want to knock himself out.
Not wanting toothache, Wu Cang glared at the leaf-greens beside him with unmistakable rejection written all over his face.
That was the scene Bai Shuo walked into, and he had to fight down the urge to laugh, the man was an elder, after all. Most Feather Clan disliked leaf-greens to some degree, but treating them like a mortal enemy the way Wu Cang did was absolutely a rare sight.
“Uncle Wu Cang, Wu Yan, I made some pan-fried meat, try some. It tastes better wrapped in leaf-greens.” Bai Shuo walked up to the father and son, rescuing Wu Cang from his deeply wronged expression. The tribe had few forms of address, anyone of the same generation as one’s parents was called “uncle” if male, “auntie” if female, regardless of who was actually older.
“Remember to bring the bowl back once you’re done.” Bai Shuo set the bowl down and added that reminder before turning to leave without waiting for a reply, pan-fried meat tasted good whether hot or cold, but freshly cooked was always better, so he’d brought this batch over the moment it came out of the pot, now he needed to hurry back and start the next.
Wu Cang had caught the unusual smell drifting off Bai Shuo well before he arrived, but he didn’t expect it was meant for them. After all, he and Wu Yan had only just joined the tribe a few days ago and hadn’t fully integrated yet, the tribe’s chicks all kept their distance from him, which every newly joined member had to go through.
Wu Cang had already resigned himself to it taking another full year before he truly became part of the tribe, then, out of nowhere, a chick had come by to bring them food. Wu Cang blinked, startled, and by the time he snapped out of it, the chick had already run off.
The chick was gone, but the smell of the food lingered. Wu Cang looked down, a familiar yet unfamiliar dish. Familiar, because the smell told him instantly it was meat, unfamiliar, because the color and shape were nothing like anything they’d ever grilled.
Wu Cang reached out, about to pinch off a piece to taste, when the bowl in front of him vanished.
“For me.” Wu Yan, with zero filial devotion whatsoever, snatched the wooden bowl clean away.
“What do you mean, for you? Didn’t you hear him call me uncle?” Wu Cang, who’d never once been popular with chicks, had just been called “uncle” for the very first time, that was absolutely worth bringing up.
“For me, and you happened to get a shoutout too.” Wu Yan set his grilled meat aside and wrapped a piece of pan-fried meat in leaf-greens to eat instead.
Word about the crowd gathered around the other side had already spread through the whole tribe in the short time it took for this to happen, the news that Bai Shuo had taught everyone a brand-new way to eat.
Wu Cang: “Fine, fine, fine, I get it, it’s because you caught Bai Xun’s chick. Come on, come on, let me try some.”
Wu Yan smacked away his empty-handed reach. “Get some leaf-greens first.”
Wu Cang, having no interest in eating it wrapped, sighed. “Ugh.” In the end, he still had to eat leaf-greens, such is the hardship of being a bird (Such is the hardship of being a bird (a pun on “such is life”) (Yǔ shēng jiānnán, 羽生艱難) – wordplay on the common saying 人生艱難 (rénshēng jiānnán, “life is hard”), with 人 (“human”) swapped for 羽 (“feather”), the author’s joke about how tough it is being Feather Clan).
A moment later, staring at the now-empty wooden bowl, Wu Cang suggested, “Son, why don’t we make pan-fried meat too? Look how much leaf-greens we still have left.”
Wu Yan turned to look at him. “You know how to make it?”
The unreliable old man, who couldn’t even manage to grill meat properly, shook his head.
Wu Yan gave up on his utterly unreliable father, who was hopeless at everything except hunting, and picked up the wooden bowl along with a bulging bundle of hide, heading for the river.
Wu Cang, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed there seemed to be quite a few things stuffed inside that hide bundle, but it was already dark out and he couldn’t quite make out what exactly, so he asked offhandedly, “Where are you off to?”
Wu Yan, not slowing his pace, tossed back, “Washing the bowl.”
Wu Cang was about to ask more, but Wu Yan had already walked off. He looked around, didn’t notice anything missing, and everything he’d spotted earlier was still right there, utterly baffled, he gave up trying to figure it out.
Elsewhere, Bai Shuo finished walking a few of the Feather Clan members who were rendering their own oil through the finer points to watch out for, then returned to his parents’ side, where he found a bowl of freshly washed Redtop fruit waiting. He lit up with delight, he’d done so much talking that evening his throat had gone a bit dry.
Bai Shuo picked up the bowl, sat down beside his brother, took one and started peeling it, eating as he asked, “Brother, who’d we trade this for?” Most of the fruit their family had traded for tonight had already gone into the marinade, and everyone else in the tribe had pretty much eaten through their own share too, for this much to have come together, someone must have gone around trading with quite a few people.
“Wu Yan brought it over.”
“Then tomorrow I’ll send him some extra food.” Sending over this much fruit, he must have really liked tonight’s food.
……
By the time the whole family finished eating, they’d processed five more bowls of pan-fried meat besides, and only then did dinner officially wrap up. It wasn’t that no one else wanted to trade after that, it was that Bai Shuo didn’t want to stay up working too late, and decided to leave the rest for tomorrow.
A handful of the quicker Feather Clan members had picked up the technique from Bai Shuo’s instructions and produced their own results, the first batches came out a bit charred, but things improved after that. The flavor fell a little short of what Bai Shuo made, but in the Feather Clan’s minds, the difference was simply between delicious and even more delicious, either way, both versions beat the grilled meat they usually ate by a mile.
Those who hadn’t made any themselves, and hadn’t managed to trade for any either, were left drooling with envy, but Bai Shuo’s side was only taking orders for the next day now, and anyone who wanted to eat would have to wait at least one night. Meanwhile, those who’d tried making it themselves, worried about getting the heat wrong, only fried a few slices at a time, never enough even for themselves, let alone extra to trade away, so people were reduced to carrying small bits of meat around, hunting down the few Feather Clan who’d traded for a whole bowlful, only for the latter to eat while dodging them, unwilling to trade away their hard-won prize now that they finally had it in hand.
And by then, Bai Shuo’s family had already started packing up their tools.
The stone pot and stone slab would still be needed tomorrow, so there was no need to haul them back up the mountain, they scrubbed them clean, left them down at the base, and covered them with washed leaves. The family gathered up the wooden bowls and other easy-to-mix-up items, along with the food, and headed back to the cave to rest.
Probably because he’d just turned human and then spent the whole evening busy on top of that, Bai Shuo felt genuinely exhausted. The moment he lay down back in the cave, his eyes fell shut and he was asleep almost instantly, and once again, he dreamed of his past life.
Over these past few days, Bai Shuo had dreamed of these things often enough that he’d grown used to it, and by now he was even clearly aware, in the dream itself, that he was dreaming.
The feeling was remarkably strange. If he compared his past life to a book, then the very first dream had been like flipping open the table of contents, it laid his whole life out before him in a rush, but the content had been hazy, and only if he focused hard could he recall any finer details. The dreams that followed, though, were like turning to a specific page, the plot came through in far greater detail, as vivid as if he were living it all over again.
This time, he dreamed of his part-time job at that bookstore near his school.
The bookstore’s owner had been an upperclassman from the same school, Bai Shuo had never actually met him in person, they’d only ever communicated over messaging apps. The shop was small, with one veteran employee besides himself, Bai Shuo had only been responsible for running the register and reconciling accounts at night. The regularly stocked books sat on the shelves, and customers, mostly students from their own school, usually picked out what they wanted themselves before bringing it up to check out. The job had been pretty relaxed.
On the checkout counter sat a book, its pages yellowed, clearly quite old, with a few similarly-styled reference books stacked beside it. These had apparently been bought online one night after the owner binge-watched survival videos, his eyes must have been bleary, because he’d accidentally filled in the school as the delivery address, and by the time the package arrived, he’d been too lazy to come pick it up, so the stack of books had ended up as Bai Shuo’s way of passing time at the shop, flipped through a few pages whenever there was nothing else to do.
He had no idea just how many videos the owner had watched that night, but the stack of thick books, piled together, ended up taller than the computer on the counter. Bai Shuo had looked through them for a whole year, and only finished them all right before graduation.
Having recalled all this, Bai Shuo’s consciousness drifted back to that same book.
On the opened page, the two characters at the top, “Cooking”, stood out with striking clarity, giving off a faint, mysterious glow.