Chapter 191 – The Way of Address Changed

Jian Mo and the others chatted for a while at Qi Ming’s home before deciding to visit the Rainrise Tribe’s vegetable fields.

They were growing off-season vegetables, which required higher temperatures. The fields weren’t near the tribe but up in the mountains.

Even if the orcs shifted back to their beast forms, it would still take some time to get there.

Qi Ming, in the form of a giant manul cat, explained to Jian Mo and the others:
“There are hot springs up in the mountains. The valley there is especially warm, so vegetables can grow there. Without the mountain’s warmth, they wouldn’t grow at all.”

Jian Mo understood. “Is the soil hot too?”

Qi Ming replied, “Not really. We don’t dare plant in soil that feels obviously hot—vegetables won’t survive there. We have to pick spots farther from the hot springs, and only then will the crops grow well.”

Jian Mo nodded to show he understood.

The manuls ran through the mountains to guide the way, with the giant wolf following behind them.

They crossed two mountain ridges before reaching the valley where the crops were grown.

This valley wasn’t the traditional kind at the foot of the mountains, but one midway up, encircled by peaks. Without local guides, Jian Mo and his group probably wouldn’t have found it.

The valley wasn’t very large. A waterfall flowed down one side, feeding several ponds—some hot springs, others cool.

The temperature inside the valley was noticeably warmer than outside. As soon as they entered, a comfortable warmth surrounded them.

Jian Mo breathed in the moist air, finding it rather pleasant.

The manuls shifted back to human form and introduced the fields: “Here’s all the vegetables we’ve planted.”

Jian Mo dismounted from the giant wolf and looked around. “You’ve got quite a variety here.”

Wu Jiong also shifted back to human form. “A lot of these, we’ve never seen before.”

Qi Ming said, “These are varieties we collected from nearby tribes. Zhaozhi and the others don’t like eating the same vegetable over and over, so I planted more types.”

Jian Mo was moved. “You’re very thoughtful.”

Qi Ming shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just what I should do. These fields and those over there are leafy vegetables. That patch is grown for its swollen stems. And the area by the ponds—those are root vegetables.”

After introducing the vegetables, Qi Ming added: “Those big-leaf garlic, ginger, and scallions at the edges were planted from cuttings. They’re just seasonings, not eaten in large amounts, so we didn’t grow much. The big-leaf garlic I mentioned before—the one that isn’t bitter—that’s it. You can try it. Even raw, it’s not too bitter.”

Since he was already here, Jian Mo didn’t stand on ceremony. He plucked a leaf of the big-leaf garlic, wiped it with his hand, and took a bite.

The distinctive pungency of garlic instantly spread across his mouth, so strong it made Jian Mo spit repeatedly: “Peh! Peh! Peh! So spicy!”

Qi Ming smiled. “But not bitter, right?”

Jian Mo grabbed the wooden flask from Wu Jiong, rinsed his mouth, and thought carefully. “You’re right—it’s only a little bitter. How did you manage to grow garlic that quickly lost its bitterness?”

Qi Ming shrugged. “Maybe just luck? We’ve only planted two rounds of big-leaf garlic. This is the second, and already it’s not very bitter.”

Jian Mo reasoned, “Maybe when cultivated by hand, they can’t absorb the necessary elements to synthesize the bitter compounds, so the bitterness fades.”

Qi Ming more or less understood and nodded. “That could be it. Anyway, take whatever vegetables you like. Bring them back and taste them later.”

Jian Mo didn’t hold back. He harvested some of each type, putting them into a basket, planning to cook up a vegetable feast later.

He asked, “How long does it take for these vegetables to grow?”

Qi Ming replied, “Not long. The ones you see now were planted only about ten days ago. They grow really fast. Actually, when we first started, they grew even faster—three to five days for a sprout. But later, for some reason, they slowed down.”

Jian Mo said, “Probably a lack of fertilizer.”

Qi Ming asked, “You mean the manure your tribe uses?”

Jian Mo nodded. “Yes. This valley’s soil probably had a lot of decomposed leaves and weeds at first, making it fertile. But once your vegetables absorbed the nutrients, it became less fertile. You need to replenish fertilizer in time, or the crops will keep declining.”

Qi Ming replied, “I see. We also noticed that as they grew worse, more pests came too. A lot of our crops got eaten by insects.”

Jian Mo sighed. “That’s unavoidable. We face the same problem. Right now, our solution is to make a pesticide from poisonous plants, spray it on the leaves, and kill as many pests as possible.”

Qi Ming looked doubtful. “Wouldn’t that poison the people eating the vegetables too?”

Jian Mo explained, “If you eat them right after spraying, yes. But if you wait a while before harvesting, it’s fine.”

They used a crop called Spring Thunder Egg to make pesticide. Its toxicity was mild compared to other poisonous plants.

Still, Jian Mo wasn’t entirely sure how effective their pesticide had been—since the children in the tribe often helped pick insects by hand.

And because their tribe usually grew sturdier crops like grain grass, pearl rice, hairy roots, and wooden tubers, which weren’t as pest-prone, he couldn’t say for sure if the pesticide experience applied here.

So Jian Mo briefly described the Riverbank Tribe’s situation, concluding: “Our conditions aren’t the same, so you can’t just copy our methods.”

Qi Ming agreed. “True. If the fields are small, hand-picking pests works. But with more land, it’s impossible.”

Jian Mo said, “Exactly. For your situation, I’d still recommend trying to make pesticide.”

Qi Ming quickly asked, “Then can you help us? We don’t know how to make it ourselves.”

Jian Mo answered, “I’ll think about it.”

Qi Ming and his people showed Jian Mo and Wu Jiong around the valley, then brought them back to the tribe.

Rainrise Tribe was the most advanced of the nearby tribes. Many families even had metal cookware.

Borrowing a pot from Qi Ming’s house, Jian Mo stir-fried several dishes.

The vegetables were undeniably crisp, tender, and sweet. Even with a slight bitterness, as newly domesticated crops, they tasted refreshing.

Jian Mo praised, “These are much better than wild vegetables.”

Qi Ming nodded. “They’re definitely more tender and less bitter, but we don’t really know why.”

Jian Mo suggested, “Maybe because they’re harvested so young. The bitter compounds haven’t had time to build up yet, so they taste sweeter. If you keep planting these, they’ll be in high demand.”

Qi Ming smiled. “Perhaps. But we’re not growing them just for trade.”

“I know,” Jian Mo teased, “you’re doing it so Chief Zhaozhi can eat better.”

Qi Ming admitted, “Yes.”

Jian Mo said, “Well, either way, having fresh vegetables in autumn and winter is rare.”

Vegetables in winter were essential. Without vitamins, people easily fell sick; without fiber, constipation was common.

Jian Mo had personally seen beast cubs gnawing sticks, unable to relieve themselves—an image that haunted him.

Here, winters were long and bitterly cold. Most “vegetables” people ate were stored tubers in caves.

But tubers were not easy to preserve. The longer they were stored, the more likely they rotted, shriveled, sprouted, and lost taste.

If Rainrise Tribe could grow vegetables even in winter, they would surely be popular.

The tribe did intend to continue vegetable cultivation.

Qi Ming asked, “Doctor Jian Mo, have you decided? Can you stay with us for two days and help us find the herbs you mentioned?”

Jian Mo had thought it through. “Two days is fine. Any longer won’t work—we also collected Throat Eye Orbs and plan to make ointment.”

Qi Ming quickly said, “Two days is enough. We’re just unfamiliar with herbs. If you give us the recipe, we can collect them ourselves later.”

Jian Mo nodded. “Then we need to discuss payment.”

Qi Ming asked, “What do you want?”

Jian Mo laid out his terms: “A share of your vegetables, plus seeds and related materials. For this autumn and winter’s harvest, give us a portion too.”

Qi Ming asked, “How much of a portion?”

Jian Mo suggested, “One-tenth?”

He explained, “I’ll provide you with a working pesticide recipe. Once you have it, you can use it forever. I’ll only charge once.”

That wasn’t too expensive. Qi Ming agreed. “If it works well, we have no objection.”

The implication was, if it didn’t, they’d renegotiate.

Jian Mo smiled. “That’s fair. I’ll first think over which herbs are safe for vegetables. Tomorrow we’ll gather them and test it out.”

Qi Ming agreed. “I’ll prepare a place for you to rest.”

Jian Mo nodded. “Good. Get everything ready. We’ll set out early tomorrow.”

Jian Mo and Wu Jiong returned to their temporary quarters to write down prescriptions.

There were many poisonous herbs nearby, but deciding which could safely be used on vegetables required careful thought.

As Jian Mo pondered, he heard a commotion outside.

Looking out the window, he saw a flock of fat chirps that had somehow come over and were playing with Jiujiu and Ying’ao.

Hearing the window open, the chirps looked up happily and waved. “Brother Jian Mo! Chief Wu Jiong—!”

Jian Mo asked, “What are you doing here?”

The chirps chirped, “We heard you’d arrived, so we flew over. Brother Jian Mo, are you going into the mountains tomorrow for herbs? We’ll come too!”

Jian Mo smiled. “You’ll have to ask Chief Qi Ming.”

The chirps said, “Brother Qi Ming agreed. He said we can come if we want.”

The way they addressed him had changed—it seemed the relationship between the tribes had really improved.

Jian Mo raised an eyebrow. “That’s fine by us then.”

The chirps invited, “What are you doing? Come down and play!”

Jian Mo said, “I’m working on herbal formulas for vegetables. You go play first—I’m busy for now.”

The chirps asked, “Then does Chief Wu Jiong have time? Will you come play?”

Wu Jiong hadn’t expected the chirps to invite him. “Sure, I’ll come down.”

The chirps cheered. “Come quick!”

Wu Jiong said to Jian Mo, “From what Qi Ming said, it seems most of their vegetable seeds were delivered by the Baizhi Tribe. I’ll go ask more about it.”

Jian Mo was scribbling furiously and waved him off. “Go ahead. Just remember to feed Jiujiu and Ying’ao later.”

Wu Jiong tilted Jian Mo’s chin and kissed his forehead. “Got it. I’ll bring you something tasty when I get back.”

Jian Mo returned the kiss briefly and waved him away.

Thanks to his studies in the Zhuxing Tribe, Jian Mo had learned a lot about poisonous plants.

Depending on their combinations, some neutralized poison while others intensified it.

Witch doctors usually strengthened toxicity to treat parasites or abscesses. No one had thought of using them as pesticides—except Jian Mo.

He scribbled furiously on paper. Making pesticide had to suit local conditions.

Even if some formulas were effective, if the herbs weren’t locally available, it wasn’t realistic to trade for them.

By the end of the afternoon, Jian Mo had filled over a dozen sheets with recipes.

Several formulas matched herbs he knew were local.

He’d seen those plants often enough in both Baizhi and Rainrise territories.

This time, success seemed certain. Flicking the papers, Jian Mo felt confident he could secure this batch of vegetables for his tribe.

Perfect—once they got seeds and crops back, they could plant a batch by the riverside too.

If this autumn and winter proved too cold, they’d wait until spring to plant.

By then, the formulas he was drafting would still come in handy.