Chapter 192: No More “Jiu-jiu”

Early the next morning, Jian Mo and the others headed into the mountains to gather medicinal herbs.

With all the chubby winged beasts along, the team was extra lively. Everyone chatted the whole way, and the hike didn’t feel hard at all.

Jian Mo roughly described the herbs they needed so everyone could keep an eye out.

They hadn’t been in the mountains long when someone from the Rainrise Tribe shouted, “Isn’t that one of the herbs we’re looking for up ahead? I think I see a clump of Stinky-Board!”

Everyone looked ahead, then back at Jian Mo.

Following the man’s gaze, Jian Mo said, “Looks like it is. We can dig it up.”

The young ones rushed forward and dug out the herb called “Stinky-Board.” Among them were youths from both the Rainrise and Birch Branch tribes.

They ran back together and held the herb up for Jian Mo to see.

He examined it: oval leaves in opposite pairs, fine hairs on the undersides, and when the leaves were rubbed, a distinct musty-rotten-wood stink. It had to be Stinky-Board.

Jian Mo nodded. “It’s Stinky-Board alright. Let’s keep looking.”

The young people cheered and took the lead, continuing to search.

The mountains were rich in herbs. Besides many of the plants they needed today, they also found extra—some were tonics—so at Jian Mo’s instruction they dug those up too.

Autumn is a great season for gathering medicine. Most plants are ripe, and for barks and roots especially, harvesting now gives good potency.

They spent the day roaming the mountains, and every basket was nearly full.

The haul was big, and Jian Mo was in high spirits. He even suggested they hunt something for soup that evening.

The idea won unanimous support from the youths, who insisted the adults didn’t need to lift a finger—they’d handle it.

So Jian Mo watched a flock of fat winged beasts take to the air while manuls bounded over the ground, all heading straight for the woods.

Qi Ming called after them, raising his voice: “Remember to bring down something good for soup—”

Someone yelled back, “We know!”

Their voices echoed through the hills.

Jian Mo and the others returned first to process the herbs.

They’d gathered a lot, though not everything was on today’s list. Jian Mo picked through and managed to assemble three formulas.

There was no helping it: wild herbs are what they are—you take what you can get, not much room to be picky.

Everything needed further processing before use. Jian Mo divided up the work, assigning different groups to different plants.

Once they’d taken their portions, people set to it: washing, slicing, pounding, drying, and oil-soaking.

Jian Mo specifically had them wear masks so they wouldn’t poison themselves.

With so many hands, the herbs were processed quickly.

Before dark, they had three small tubs of liquid.

Jian Mo looked them over. “Let’s use them today. Tomorrow we can check the effects.”

With pesticides for crop pests, you can usually see results in a day.

“No problem,” Qi Ming said. “Let’s head up the mountain again.”

Jian Mo went along, personally diluting the pesticide solutions. They divided the plot into a large triangle and applied one diluted formula to each corner so they wouldn’t interfere with each other.

The insect pressure was roughly the same across the beds—no area especially heavy or light.

Rainrise’s watering pots were basically sprinklers—holes drilled into the spouts to spray evenly.

After checking, Jian Mo marked the three plots and used a charcoal pencil to note which formula was on which, then stuck the labeled boards at the edges.

“All set,” he said, walking to the cold spring by the field to wash his hands. “We’ll come back in the morning to check.”

“Let’s head down,” Qi Ming said. “The hunting party should be back.”

“Alright,” said Jian Mo. “Let’s go make soup.”

Wu Jiong shifted into a giant wolf, the other beastmen also took beast form, and they all sprinted downhill, getting back to Rainrise before full dark.

Then Jian Mo saw what the youths had brought back—front and center was a big burrow-beast.

The kind whose farts looked thickened like gravy—and stank to high heaven.

Jian Mo questioned his life choices. “Weren’t you going to hunt something good for soup?”

Wan Zheng hurriedly pulled out a purple bird and a long-tailed bird from beside the burrow-beast. “These are for soup. The burrow-beast we can stir-fry or braise.”

A Rainrise youth quickly added, “We hadn’t planned on a burrow-beast, but we ran into one. We couldn’t just let it go, so we brought it.”

Jian Mo understood. Neither tribe was particularly expert at hunting; it wasn’t surprising they’d failed to find the ideal game. They’d just have to make do.

“How should we eat?” Qi Ming asked. “You decide.”

Jian Mo didn’t stand on ceremony. “Use the two birds for soup. As for the burrow-beast, let’s stir-fry it while it’s fresh.”

“Brother Jian Mo,” a Birch Branch youth raised his hand, eyes bright. “Can we have hotpot? Or your Riverside Tribe’s mala-tang?”

“That works too,” Jian Mo said. “You should have chilies here. We can make a quick broth right now.”

“We do,” said Qi Ming. “And lately we’ve traded vegetables for lots of ingredients. We can bring out a few more things for the hotpot.”

Jian Mo perked up. “Let’s do hotpot, then. Clear broth for vegetables, red broth for meat. For the base, we can chop bones and simmer them—chilies and pepper-spikes are all we need.”

“We’ve got both,” Qi Ming said. “I’ll get it ready.”

“Let us help,” everyone chimed in.

With many hands, they set up two rows of hotpots: one row of clear broth, one row of spicy red. People chose as they liked.

They ate and chatted, lively and happy.

Sitting amid the crowd, Jian Mo watched the two formerly hostile tribes chatting like old friends and felt cheerful himself.

After dinner, the fat winged beasts shifted into beast form and flew off.

They have night vision, can fly after dark, and face fewer big predators in the sky than on land, so everyone was fine with them heading home and coming back if they felt like it the next day.

Sure enough, the chub-feather crew arrived early, chirping outside and urging everyone to check the pesticide results.

Yawning, eyes bleary, Jian Mo was pushed out the door.

Once they started up the mountain, he lay draped over the giant wolf’s back, arms around his neck—and quickly fell asleep again.

Running alongside, the big manul Qi Ming asked, a little worried, “Doctor Jian Mo fell asleep—will he be okay?”

The giant wolf turned his head, gently booped Jian Mo with his muzzle, and said quietly, “He’s holding on tight. If he starts to slip, I’ll feel it and haul him back. Let him sleep.”

The manul said no more and trotted ahead to lead the way.

By the time they reached the fields, the morning sun was up. The mild light showed the vegetable beds clearly.

Of the three plots they’d sprayed, one had yellowing leaves—the solution had hit the crop as well. Fortunately they hadn’t applied much; losses were small.

The other two looked normal, though one had many dead insects and the other fewer.

After a thorough look, still yawning, Jian Mo said, “Any mix that kills the plants is out. Anything that barely kills pests is out too. Looks like we only keep the last one. We’ll see whether we can refine it further.”

“I agree,” said Qi Ming.

“Let’s gather more herbs today,” Jian Mo said. “We’ll try again this afternoon and produce a few more blends.”

No one objected.

Coming up with a formula from scratch is hard; modifying an existing one is much easier.

That night, Jian Mo tested several recipes, and based on the next day’s results, settled on one.

“For now, use this formula,” he told Qi Ming and the others. “I’ll think on it after I get back—see if I can come up with something even better.”

“Then we’ll count on you,” Qi Ming said. “As payment, we’ll send you seedling starts and seeds, and a tenth of this year’s vegetables.”

“Deal,” Jian Mo said. “I’ll also take some of the herbs we gathered these two days back with me, just right for testing a few more formulas.”

“Take all you need,” Qi Ming replied readily. “Want to gather a bit more while you’re at it?”

“No need for now,” said Jian Mo. “We don’t plant much in autumn and winter. These herbs are enough. When planting season comes, we’ll come gather more.”

“Works for us,” Qi Ming said. “You’ve got Jiujiu and Ying’ao—it’s easy for you to visit.”

Jian Mo smiled. “Right. If you need fertilizer, you can trade for it at our tribe. We’ve got plenty.”

“Settled,” said Qi Ming.

When Jian Mo and the others said they were heading back, the chubby winged beasts offered to escort them.

“Anyway we’re free—we’ll help carry some loads.”

“It’s been a while since we went to your tribe. We want to see Ban Ming and the others.”

“Brother Jian Mo, let us come! We’ve got wings—it’s easy.”

Jian Mo had no objection, only a reminder: “It’s a long trip. You can swap things along the way—do a little business while you travel.”

“Perfect,” Wan Zheng said at once. “We’ve stockpiled goods—fabric, metals, spices, all kinds of things. We’ll carry those.”

“As long as you’ve got a plan,” Jian Mo said.

Wan Zheng nodded and proposed, “Let’s not camp outdoors. We can stay in Tianning tonight, then when we reach your side, we’ll trade at the Mengshui Tribe first and then head to Riverside.”

Tianning had absorbed a lot of pottery techniques and patterns this year; their wares were ever more refined—well worth a trade.

“No problem,” said Jian Mo. “Tomorrow morning we’re stopping at Snowfoot Tribe to catch fish, then flying on to Tianning. Let’s meet on the way so we don’t have to detour.”

Wan Zheng blinked. “Catching fish? We can help.”

“Not just any fish,” Jian Mo said with a grin. “We’re after the big ones in Snowwater Lake. No need for you to jump in—just help carry supplies and we’ll carry the fish.”

“Alright. See you in Tianning,” Wan Zheng said.

They hadn’t been home for days, and both Jiujiu and Ying’ao were excited to be going back.

When Jian Mo and Wu Jiong steered them toward the wild lake near Snowfoot, Jiujiu got even more excited, wings thrumming—clearly remembering the fish.

Jiujiu rarely flew that fast. Jian Mo tightened his coat, gripped the reins, and shouted, “Jiujiu, slow down—save your strength for the water!”

“Jiu—!” Jiujiu cried.

They reached the lake early.

Jian Mo had been bracing his core and hanging onto the reins the whole way. Well warmed up, he sighed by the shore, “Guess I don’t need any more warm-up. Let’s just get in and catch fish.”

Wu Jiong ruffled his hair. “You stay on shore. They’re a bit vicious—you might get bitten.”

Jian Mo thought it over. “Alright. I’ll try not to be in the way.”

Wu Jiong directed them: “Jiujiu, go in here. Ying’ao, over there. Drive the fish toward me—I’ll grab them. Ignore the small ones; we want the big ones.”

Jiujiu’s eyes lit up. Tongue lolling, it panted twice, took a running start, and leapt into the air, flying to the spot Wu Jiong indicated to start herding.

As soon as it hit the water, it dove.

Its time diving by the sea near Star-Store had taught it a lot. It plunged smoothly and drove fish expertly. After only a few breaths, there was a great splash where it was—the fight was on.

Compared to that, Ying’ao wasn’t as good at driving fish—when it went at them, they just fled for their lives, unlike Jiujiu, who brawled them into submission while driving them along.

Wu Jiong turned into the giant wolf and waited to ambush.

When Jiujiu and the schooling fish, still tangling, came his way, he rushed in to catch them.

He was deadly efficient: in no time, several big fish were dead in his jaws.

The big ones rolled belly-up and floated. Jiujiu huffed and shoved them toward shore.

Jian Mo beast-formed his hands into cat claws. Using the sharp tips, he hooked the fish skin and hauled them ashore.

With the water’s buoyancy, he managed to drag them all up.

Each fish weighed at least sixty or seventy jin and was slippery. Without claws, hauling them would’ve been tough.

After the last one was up, Jian Mo’s cat ears twitched and a proud look spread across his face.

He really had toughened up.

Seeing the pile, Jiujiu was delighted and dashed off to draw another school.

It soon got into another underwater brawl, yowling as it fled toward Wu Jiong, driving the fish before it.

Ying’ao, who’d caught only one after much effort, saw this and glided over to coordinate with the wolf and Jiujiu instead of soloing.

Watching again, Jian Mo was impressed: Ying’ao had a superb sense for the flow of a hunt and knew when to give up. Classic Ying’ao.

Working together, they caught seven fish in two rounds.

“I’m getting cold,” Jian Mo called. “That’s enough. Let’s head out, or we won’t make Tianning by nightfall.”

“Got it,” said the wolf. “Jiujiu, Ying’ao—ashore.”

Ying’ao swam in quickly. Jiujiu, unwilling, dove again to try for more.

But after one round of slaughter, the big fish had wised up and ignored it completely.

“Let’s dress them here before we go,” Jian Mo said, eyeing the catch.

They could gut and salt the fish now, then fly to Tianning. That would both lighten the load and preserve flavor with a quick cure.

“I’ll kill and cut,” Wu Jiong said. “You mix the seasonings.”

“Add a little Throat-Eye?” asked Jian Mo.

Jiujiu loved that flavor; a bit in the cure would please it.

“Alright,” Wu Jiong said.

Jian Mo rummaged in the basket for the Throat-Eye and sighed. “We forgot to ask Rainrise to try cultivating it.”

“We can save seeds,” Wu Jiong said as he worked. “Let Wan Zheng take them to Rainrise to plant.”

“Remind me later,” Jian Mo said. “Or I’ll forget.”

While they cured the fish, Jiujiu and Ying’ao watched.

Jiujiu was already drooling.

Jian Mo stuffed some jerky into its mouth. “Show some restraint.”

“Eep,” Jiujiu complained.

Wu Jiong carved off two big slabs and handed one each to Jiujiu and Ying’ao. “You can taste now. The fish is clean.”

“Alright,” Jian Mo said. “We’ll brew dewormer for them when we get back.”

Jiujiu held the meat in its mouth and stared at Jian Mo, unsure if it was allowed.

Hands occupied with curing, Jian Mo bumped it with his forehead. “Eat. Just remember to drink your medicine when we’re home.”

Jiujiu tipped back its head and happily gulped it down, then stuck out its pink tongue to lick the scraps and blood from its lips.

Wu Jiong glanced up and cut each of them another massive chunk. “Eat it now; we won’t have to carry it.”

Overjoyed, Jiujiu ducked its head and rubbed against Wu Jiong’s back. “Jiu-jiu!”

Good thing Wu Jiong was strong and steady, or he would’ve been shoved to the ground.

They packed up fast and hit the air.

Pushing hard, they reached the Tianning Tribe just as the moon rose.

The chub-feather squad had arrived earlier and told the Tianning folks to expect them.

Tianning had dealt with Jian Mo and Wu Jiong many times, so they’d prepped rooms and even fodder for Jiujiu and Ying’ao.

The two thanked them but still lit a fire to cook a big pot of meat for the winged beasts, leaving the fodder as side greens.

Slim-winged Dalla came to see Jiujiu and Ying’ao and eyed the carefully prepared meat with envy. “Eep.”

Ying’ao showed zero interest, not even sparing Dalla a glance.

Jiujiu, though, heard the call and hesitated. Then it nudged its food basin toward Dalla. “Jiu?”

Seeing Jiujiu learning to share was adorable. Jian Mo was just about to praise it—

—but Dalla couldn’t resist temptation. Facing the basin, it plunged its head in and grabbed a huge mouthful. “Hrrr-rrrp!”

Jiujiu’s heart broke on the spot. It didn’t even “jiu-jiu”—it hooked the basin with a claw and dragged it back at once.

“Ree—!”

That was its meat!