Chapter 178: Going Home

The Fat Chirpers were lively, tireless, and naturally gifted at dealing with people.

Before long, they’d befriended every nearby tribe, bartered more and more goods, and eventually ran out of things worth trading.

Their merchant run was a big success—it was time to head back.

Jian Mo’s group would be returning too.

Jian Mo’s medical skills were excellent. He could treat illnesses Xing Yi’s side couldn’t, and he charged fairly.

Everyone nearby was reluctant to see him go.

Young people from the Chuxing Tribe came to talk to him. “Doctor Jian Mo, won’t you stay a bit longer?”

Jian Mo smiled. “This place is so wonderful that no matter how long we stayed, it wouldn’t feel like enough. We’ll go home first and come again when we can.”

Chuxing folks coaxed, “If you can’t get enough, move here! We’ve got mountains and sea and rich resources—life is great.”

Jian Mo: “It’s lovely here, and our home is lovely too. We’ve been away for a while—we’re homesick.”

Once he said that, there was nothing more to argue. Heads drooped; the mood turned regretful.

He was reluctant as well: the scenery was beautiful, the seafood delicious, the people warm—and most of all, he’d learned so much.

Leaving all at once, he felt a little wistful.

After a bit of moping, someone asked, “Brother Jian Mo, since you’re finally here, want to go play with us? We never took you watersliding.”

“Watersliding?” Jian Mo asked.

“Put a plank on the sea and ride the waves—it’s really fun.”

“Got it—surfing,” Jian Mo said.

“That’s a fun name. Anyway, it’s like that. Want to go?”

“Absolutely!” he agreed.

They planned to bring Chirchirp and Ying’ao along.

When the Fat Chirpers heard, they rushed over—they wanted in too.

They stared wide-eyed at the Chuxing youths. “How could you be so disloyal? Going to play without us!”

The Chuxing kids were aggrieved. “Weren’t you busy trading?”

“Trade never ends. What’s wrong with taking a break to play?”

Under their insistence, the Fat Chirpers joined the outing.

Seeing that, other Chuxing youths who hadn’t planned to go decided to join as well. The group swelled to nearly a hundred—enough to start a brawl if they wanted.

The tribal chief worried, so he assigned two reliable youths to lead, just in case.

Jian Mo had wondered if going out with so many semi-strangers would be awkward. But once they set off, the Fat Chirpers chirped their way through the crowd and befriended people in minutes—calling everyone by name without a miss.

In no time, everyone was acting like brothers, and Jian Mo’s ears were full of cheerful chatter.

“They really were born for this line of work,” he murmured to Wu Jiong.

Late Zheng beside them laughed. “We heard that.”

“It was a compliment,” Jian Mo said.

Another Bozhi youth chimed in, “We get along with everyone—except the Yuqi Tribe. Didn’t used to, anyway.”

Late Zheng added, “Now we do. We’re brothers with them too.”

Jian Mo shot him a doubtful look.

“Really,” Late Zheng insisted. “You’ll see when we get back.”

Jian Mo laughed. “Then we’ll come check it out.”

Chatting and joking, they reached the sea.

The Fat Chirpers rarely saw the ocean, much less played on it.

They hugged their boards and cheered, asking how to play.

The Chuxing youths patiently explained, and soon everyone had the idea.

“You can all swim, right?” the Chuxing kids asked. “You’ll fall in a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” the Fat Chirpers said happily. “We float easily—can’t drown us.”

“Alright, we’ll demonstrate,” said the Chuxing kids. “Follow behind and be careful.”

“Got it—hurry!”

Young people bond quickly, especially in groups.

Jian Mo stood beside Wu Jiong, watching with a smile he didn’t realize he was wearing.

He’d never surfed, but it turned out not that hard—at least not for him now.

With Wu Jiong looking out for him, he picked it up quickly. Wu Jiong did too.

They stuck to the edges of the crowd. Even when they wiped out, they were laughing.

Partway through, Chirchirp had an idea—he swooped down and butted Jian Mo’s back with his big head, sending him skimming a long way.

“Aaah—!” Jian Mo yelped, practically flying over the water before crashing in with a splash. Everyone hauled him up, howling with laughter.

Chirchirp went to push Wu Jiong next. Wu Jiong didn’t scream; he glided smoothly.

The Fat Chirpers next door yelled, “Chirchirp! Over here! Us too!”

“Chirp!” Chirchirp obliged, head-butting them forward.

Surfing turned into airborne tow rides.

Shrieks and laughter echoed over the sea—thrilling and exhilarating.

Jian Mo played so long his throat was nearly hoarse.

Chirchirp doted on him—whenever Jian Mo was ready, he’d zip over to give him a special push.

His silly bird’s blatant favoritism made everyone amused; Jian Mo was half exasperated, half touched.

After a long while, someone found a rope. They had Chirchirp grip it in midair so people could hold on and get towed.

They tried to recruit Ying’ao too, but Ying’ao had zero interest and refused to play along.

When coaxing failed, Bozhi beastmen took turns shifting to beast form to give people rides from the sky.

No one knew how long they’d been at it when Jian Mo spotted a fin slicing the surface.

It looked like a shark’s. He stiffened and shouted, “Careful! Big fish below!”

A Chuxing youth took a look, then cried out, excited, “It’s a sea qin!”

“Huh?” Jian Mo said.

“You’ve seen river qin, right? Sea qin are similar—very smart and very friendly!”

“Really?” Jian Mo blinked.

“Really!” the youth grinned—and whistled a long note. “Sea qin—over here!”

A big fish lifted its fin high, then launched into the air in a perfect arc, splashed down, and drenched them all.

“Woooow!” people whooped.

Jian Mo wiped his face. “Tell me that wasn’t on purpose.”

Wu Jiong’s eyes smiled. “Could be.”

“They flashed their fin to spook us on purpose too, right?”

“Then they’re very smart indeed,” said Wu Jiong.

Jian Mo watched the sea qin sink below. “Back home we have an animal called an ‘orca’ that smart. Sea qin really do look like river qin—round and chubby—and a bit like the orca I mentioned.”

“Want me to shift to the giant wolf and take you over to play with them?” Wu Jiong asked, amusement in his eyes.

“Won’t they take a bite out of us?” Jian Mo said.

“Probably not. And if anything happens, we’ll yell for Ying’ao to haul us into the air.”

“That works,” Jian Mo said. “Let’s do it.” He called to Ying’ao, “Keep an eye on us, okay?”

“Chirp!” Ying’ao answered.

Wu Jiong shifted underwater, and the giant wolf paddled over, letting Jian Mo climb onto his back.

Riding him felt like being on a giant float ring. Jian Mo hugged his neck and smacked a kiss on his muzzle. “Wow, so cool!”

The giant wolf, smiling with his eyes, dog-paddled elegantly toward the sea qin.

Someone called, “Doctor Jian Mo, here—jerky!”

Jian Mo caught the tossed strip on instinct. “Huh?”

“Sea qin love our jerky. Feed them some and they’ll play with you.”

“Got it,” Jian Mo said.

The giant wolf carried him close. The sea qin didn’t shy away; they swam alongside, curiously bumping the wolf’s muzzle now and then.

Jian Mo took the chance to pet their rounded bodies and heads.

They had a plump, springy dome on their foreheads—soft and bouncy, fun to touch.

He petted as he fed them jerky.

The sea qin trilled happily, like musical instruments—pleasant to the ear.

Others were drawn by the commotion and circled, mouths open for treats.

Jian Mo tossed more jerky, feeling like he was feeding koi in the open sea.

Seeing more sea qin here, everyone crowded over to play and feed them.

The bold ones even rode them—grabbing dorsal fins and letting the sea qin ferry them along.

Late Zheng was one of the riders.

Sea qin were round and slippery—hard to balance on—he had to brace his core to keep from falling, which happened to show a lean waist.

“Brother Jian Mo!” Late Zheng called. “Riding is amazing—want to try?”

“Sure!” Jian Mo said, excited. He hugged the giant wolf’s neck. “Let’s do it together.”

Wu Jiong shifted back, wrapped an arm around Jian Mo’s waist, and the two of them mounted a sea qin.

In return for the jerky, the sea qin didn’t mind giving them a couple of laps.

It wasn’t Jian Mo’s first time riding a fish, and it was still a blast—even if he kept slipping into the water.

The sea here was clear and calm, and the bounty was rich.

They rode a while, then dove to scoop up fish and shellfish from the bottom.

After a day of play, they grilled fish and shellfish on the shore at dusk.

Fresh-caught seafood needs no seasoning to be delicious—never mind that they brushed on spices anyway.

The Fat Chirpers had brought chili and garlic powders. As the fish fat rendered, they sprinkled both on top—the smell was mouthwatering.

In high spirits, Jian Mo even drew his dagger to slice sashimi.

Sea fish are much safer than river fish; they didn’t eat raw often, but once in a while was fine.

He sliced fatty portions thick and other parts thin, then dipped in the spice mix—heavenly.

They sat on the evening beach, talking in the sea breeze.

“We’ve surfed and eaten fish before, but it rarely felt this joyful.”

“Everything’s better with friends.”

“Why not stay longer? Doctor Jian Mo, haven’t you more to learn?”

Jian Mo smiled. “I’ve learned most of what I came for. And medicine is endless—there’s always more. I’ll practice the rest back home. Next time I run into cases I can’t figure out, I’ll collect them and come back to consult.”

“So you’re really leaving. We’ll miss you.”

“Then come visit us! If not, we’ll come fetch you.”

“Yeah—send word anytime and we’ll fly over.”

Everyone knew they were heading back.

As reluctant as they were, over a dozen neighboring tribes still sent people to see them off and brought gifts.

Looking at baskets of pearls, gemstones, mother-of-pearl, and “fish-stones,” Jian Mo felt guilty. “This is too valuable.”

The send-off crowd said:

“Not as precious as your character.”

“Just small gifts—please don’t refuse. May our friendship last like these stones.”

“These are our specialties. Take them back so your people know we’re here—and so we can visit more.”

Faced with such sincere eyes, Jian Mo couldn’t say no. He nodded, moved.

“Thank you for hosting us,” Wu Jiong said. “We hope you’ll visit our tribe someday and let us host you properly.”

“We will! It’s settled—let our two regions visit often and build deep friendship.”

Jian Mo and Wu Jiong weren’t big on flowery speeches.

After a few words, they readied to depart.

There were so many supplies prepared for them that, without the Fat Chirpers, they couldn’t have carried it all.

When they came, Fen Hui had been very ill.

Now he was mostly well and rode on a Bozhi Fat Chirper’s back. Chirchirp carried Jian Mo, Wu Jiong, and a small load; Ying’ao carried more.

They climbed high, while people below waved and shouted invitations to visit again.

They called back, and after repeated farewells, flew beyond the Chuxing lands.

“They’re really kind,” someone from Bozhi said. “Didn’t feel it coming in, but now that we’re leaving, it’s hard to part.”

“Yeah,” said Jian Mo. “Good people, all of them.”

“Mostly because you’re skilled and kind, Brother Jian Mo,” Late Zheng said. “You won them over.”

“It goes both ways,” Jian Mo said. “Healer Xing Yi and his people were wonderful—and taught me a lot.”

“You taught them a lot too,” Late Zheng grinned. “But since everyone gets along so well, you really should visit often.”

“I plan to,” Jian Mo said. “For now, let’s go home and try what I learned. I miss home so much!”

They weren’t the only ones—everyone was homesick. Even Chirchirp cried twice to say he missed his nest.

So the fliers beat their wings harder and sped up.

Leaning against Wu Jiong, Jian Mo looked down.

Funny—when he’d first arrived in this world, even the Mengshui Tribe had felt far from them.

Now the Chuxing Tribe didn’t seem far at all.

He recognized every tribe below and remembered each place. Even if he couldn’t see a tribe, say the name and he roughly knew where it was and what it produced.

Strange, really.

He muttered to Wu Jiong for a bit.

“That’s because you’ve grown attached,” Wu Jiong said.

Jian Mo thought about it and smiled. “True. Without feelings, you can’t be bothered to remember or to go anywhere. Now, a little hardship feels fine.”

Like the Mengshui settlement—maybe only thirty or forty kilometers in a straight line from Riverbank, less than a marathon.

If they wanted to go, they could cover it in hours; if they didn’t, they might never set foot along that path in a lifetime.

“I know this whole region now,” Jian Mo said. “Watching us fly past one tribe after another, getting closer to home—it feels so good.”

Wu Jiong kissed him. “It does.”

Jian Mo smiled and kissed him back. “We’re both homesick.”