The entire riverbank today was as boisterous as a crowded market.
The burly Snow Wolf people, normally accustomed to tearing apart prey with their claws, were now fumbling with fish.
The scraping sound of flying scales and the constant hisses of frustration from accidentally bursting fish galls filled the air.
Luci and Jessica, being careful with their hands, did their work neatly. As for the others, despite being repeatedly instructed by Eric, they couldn’t avoid mangling the fish’s innards, and could only helplessly take them to be washed again and again.
The pups, on the other hand, were having a field day being mischievous.
They hopped back and forth under the adults’ feet; one would stretch out its claws to poke at a fish’s head, while another bounced excitedly on the still-thrashing shrimp.
Leo had also become bolder lately, blending in with the tribe’s youngsters, playing with wild abandon.
Eric watched the happy little one, a warmth spreading in his heart. He took a knife and scraped the black membrane from the belly of a large fish as a demonstration. The Snow Wolves gathered around to watch, their eyes shining like headlights. Once they learned, they unceremoniously pushed him aside and aggressively declared, "Leave it to us!"
Treated like a child in need of protection, Eric didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Who could he blame for his misfortune? In the modern era, he was nearly thirty, yet upon coming here, he was classified as a pup. With a lifespan that could reach seven or eight hundred years, the Snow Wolf people took a hundred years just to be considered adults.
By the time the mountain of fish and shrimp was processed, the sun was high in the sky. Just then, Thomas returned with the hunting party. Hearing that the entire tribe had gone to the river to catch fish, they were so curious that they ran straight over to see what was happening as soon as they were done. Seeing the battlefield had been cleaned up, they cheerfully called out to each other to carry their spoils back to the tribe, their minds still lingering on the fragrant smell of yesterday’s grilled fish.
There were so many fish and shrimp that the empty plot near Eric’s house couldn’t hold them all. Everyone had no choice but to gather everything in the tribe’s central square. Every household brought out all their pottery jars, stone basins, and stone bowls.
"Cut the fat from the demonic beast separately!" Eric commanded loudly.
Slabs of white fat were cut into small pieces, placed in pottery jars, and the rendering began. He specifically assigned Jessica, the most careful person, the task of stirring the jars of fat to prevent them from burning. The pups were as cunning as ever; they knew perfectly well there would be cracklings to eat today. Those who hadn’t tried them before drooled at the mouth listening to Flower’s descriptions, crowding around the bubbling pottery jars, almost singeing their tail fur.
Meanwhile, Max, Grass, and Michael were busy distributing the demonic beast meat to the families. Michael passed by several times and, when no one was looking, secretly pressed a fist-sized, crystal-clear stone into Eric’s hand, cooing at him as if placating a child.
If it had been the original owner of this body, he would have likely jumped up and hurled insults. But the current Eric was swamped with work and didn’t even spare them a glance. He was directing several tribe members to skewer the one-to-two-meter-long fish and large shrimp onto branches in preparation for grilling.
He ran back to his house to get his self-made basting brush, the proofed dough, and some other tools. While he was at it, he asked the skillful Jessica to make a few more identical brushes. Heaven knew he was utterly clumsy with this kind of handicraft. The brush he had made was already shedding bristles left and right, while Jessica’s was much sturdier and more durable. Finally, someone reliable to ask for help!
Once the fat in the jars was rendered, Eric handed everyone a brush, instructing them to dip it in the fat and baste the fish and shrimp evenly. A rich, savory aroma began to spread. A few other pottery jars were used to fry fish, and the cheerful sizzling sound, along with the intoxicating fragrance, turned the entire open space into a culinary paradise.
After demonstrating with the first batch of fried fish, Eric handed the task over to Jessica and a few others, freeing himself up to steam the buns. He wanted the tribe members to experience the magic of starch. The dough was kneaded until smooth and glossy, cut into small pieces, shaped into balls, and then left for a second proofing. A pottery jar was filled with clean water, and a few branches were placed inside to act as a makeshift steamer rack. The pure white buns were then arranged neatly inside.
That evening, the entire Snow Wolf tribe was as festive as a carnival. There was crispy grilled fish, fragrant fried fish, sweet shrimp meat, and hot fish head soup. At the end of the meal, Eric gave each person a hot steamed bun. The flour was limited, so he had only made enough for everyone to have a taste.
Sam held the tiny bun in his hand, admiring it as if it were a treasure. "Is this the bun Eric was talking about? It smells so good, and it looks just like a Sea Beastman’s pearl."
Eric’s ears perked up. Ever since becoming a Snow Wolf, his hearing had become much sharper. Amidst the noisy environment, he still heard Sam’s words as clear as day.
Sea Beastmen? Could they be merfolk?
Thinking of the handsome mermen from the movies, he couldn’t help but swallow.
The soft bun, fragrant with the pure scent of wheat flour, was a thousand times more delicious than the hard, dark bread from the Ox-Head tribe. Everyone took a bite and felt as if they were eating a light, fluffy cloud. They couldn’t believe that this unbelievably soft thing was also made from wheat.
Eric turned to Thomas, who was sitting next to him, and said, "Thomas, this bun is also made from wheat flour."
Thomas, who was carefully splitting the bun in half for Luci, froze in astonishment upon hearing this. This... was also made from wheat?