Han Cheng looked suspiciously at his hand, then at Little Fu, who was straining to lick his chin with his tongue. After waiting a moment, he reached out and touched the area Little Fu couldn't reach.
Han Cheng avoided Little Fu's tongue and brought his fingers, now covered in a clear liquid, to his nose. A sweet scent wafted into his nostrils.
Han Cheng's eyes lit up.
With excitement, he sniffed his fingers again and confirmed it: the familiar, sweet smell of honey.
Han Cheng laughed out loud, realizing the truth. No wonder Little Fu was in such a miserable state. He got into this mess because he had been stealing honey!
Without the thick skin of a bear, he'd end up , trying to do what bears love to do.
But looking at Little Fu now, already stabilizing, it seemed unlikely he would pay for his gluttony with his life. However, the suffering was unavoidable, and the swelling would take a few days to subside.
For a foodie, eating is undeniably a top priority. Little Fu's behavior perfectly illustrated the dedication of a true gourmand. Despite being stung to the point of swelling, he still longed for the honey on Han Cheng's hand, gazing at him with his swollen, barely visible eyes and wagging his tail incessantly.
Seeing this, Han Cheng couldn't help but laugh. He squatted down and extended his hand, and immediately, Little Fu licked the honey off. Watching him struggle to lick his chin but failing, Han Cheng found a stick, tapped it on the ground to shake off the dirt, and scraped Little Fu's chin. Little Fu promptly started licking the stick.
He licked while wagging his tail with great effort, looking quite content.
Watching Little Fu's comical antics, Han Cheng couldn't help but smile broadly.
The shaman and a few others nearby, who had been worried, looked at each other in bewilderment. The Divine Child was suddenly relaxed and smiling. Wasn't Little Fu in a dire situation? Shouldn't he be trying to find a solution?
Among them, the shaman was the quickest to catch on. After a moment of confusion, he understood.
"Divine Child, is Little Fu okay?"
Han Cheng scraped off the last bit of honey from Little Fu's chin and, seeing him happily licking the stick, smiled at the shaman and said, "He's fine."
The shaman pointed to the stick Little Fu was licking.
The shaman repeated Han Cheng's words, not quite understanding this "honey".
"It's something very sweet and tastes very good," Han Cheng explained, swallowing his saliva.
Understanding that honey was very sweet and tasty, the shaman and the others nearby couldn't help but swallow their saliva.
Han Cheng couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on, stop eating. Take us to find the honey," Han Cheng said to the chubby Little Fu.
Han Cheng then led Fu Jiang and a few others in the direction from which Little Fu had emerged.
After learning what Han Cheng intended to do, the shaman called over a few more people, armed with weapons, to accompany them.
Although Han Cheng said there was no need for this, insisting that the bees weren't that dangerous, the shaman was still uneasy.
Little Fu had been stung into such a miserable state, so how could they not be dangerous?
Being cautious is never a mistake, and since the shaman insisted, Han Cheng didn't argue further.
The saying "a dog relies on its master's strength" proved quite true. Not long ago, Little Fu had fled in a panic from the stings, but now, with his mother, siblings, and so many people around, his courage surged. He became lively again, strutting ahead, sniffing at the grass, and leading Han Cheng and the others to where he'd gotten into trouble.
They crossed the field, entered the forest, and after winding through the woods for a while, the once-proud Little Fu wilted.
He paced around the spot, unwilling to go any further.
Not far from him stood a large, dead tree that one person couldn't wrap their arms around. Due to its age, a crack had split open in the trunk, and many winged bees were buzzing in and out.
These bees were slightly larger and darker in color compared to the honeybees commonly seen in later times.
Below the crack in the trunk, there was a larger gap with some broken tree pieces scattered around, looking like something had clawed it open.
Little Fu must have been trying to get in there with his mouth.
From here, they could see some honeycombs, albeit damaged ones.
Watching these busy bees diligently collecting pollen and making honey, Han Cheng couldn't help but smile broadly.
This was truly a treasure!
He immediately decided to get a closer look.
But after taking just a few steps, his arm was suddenly grabbed.
"Divine Child, don't!"
It was the shaman who grabbed him, his voice filled with worry and fear.
His old, tree-root-like hand held tightly onto Han Cheng's arm, preventing him from going any further.
At the same time, he turned and shouted to the others from the tribe, "Fall back! Don't get any closer!"
Han Cheng didn't understand why the shaman was reacting so strongly.
These bees might sting, but they weren't that terrifying, right?
Or had the shaman noticed something dangerous?
Without pushing further, Han Cheng retreated with the shaman and the others.
It wasn't until they were forty or fifty meters away from the tree that the shaman released Han Cheng's arm and exhaled a long breath, looking back at the now inconspicuous dead tree with lingering fear.
"Shaman, what's wrong?"
Han Cheng glanced at the tree and then at the shaman, asking aloud.
The other members of the Green Sparrow tribe, who had maintained a high level of vigilance due to the shaman's words, also looked at him as if they hadn't detected any wild animals nearby.
The shaman took several deep breaths, pointing toward the dead tree, and said with an exceptionally serious tone, "Don't go there. It's dangerous!"
Understanding the reason behind the shaman's sudden strong reaction, Han Cheng scratched his head, puzzled.
Just a moment ago, when talking about the deliciousness of honey, hadn't the shaman been drooling with desire?
Now that they were here, why did he suddenly act so repelled?