The Primitive Adventures of a Chipmunk 77

Chapter 77

“Thump, thump thump—”

The hoe turned over the damp soil, digging a pit in the weedy bushes. A dark brown tuber, shaped like a yam, was partially exposed. Hua Shi’an let go of the hoe and squatted down. In less than ten breaths, he had pulled out a kudzu root as thick as his arm from the pit.

The withered wood and rotten leaves nourished this land. The kudzu roots that spread deep in the soil were large and thick. If he was lucky, he could dig out four or five roots from one plant. Hua Shi’an became more and more excited as he dug, and he refused to stop even when he was panting from exhaustion.

If you don’t remove the root when you cut the grass, it will grow again in the spring.

He had almost finished digging this plant. Hua Shi’an threw the large tuber into his back basket, picked up his hoe to backfill the soil, and reburied the small kudzu roots that had not yet grown.

Green leaves covered the branches, and the wildly growing bushes were taller than a person. He could no longer see Yan Zhile, who was walking in front. Hua Shi’an shouldered his back basket and hoe, and turned to shout to the person behind him, “Are you done digging, Yinglan? I’m about to move on.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the bushes not far away rustled twice, and then, a slender hand reached out through the branches and leaves. “Don’t go yet, Lord Priest. This one is a bit big. I can’t get it out. You have to help me.”

Hua Shi’an replied and, cupping his hands to his mouth, shouted in the direction of Yan Zhile, “Don’t run too far, Yan Zhile. Wait for us.”

“I’m not far. I’m just a little ahead!”

The sub-beastman’s voice came clearly. Hua Shi’an was relieved and pushed aside the bushes to walk back.

Hong Yinglan had hit the jackpot. The spot where she was was a gentle slope. There was a thick pile of soil at the bottom of the slope, and the entire slope had almost been leveled by her. The huge kudzu root in the soil was still nowhere to be seen.

Large, a huge one. The thickest part in the middle was about the same as Hua Shi’an’s thigh.

Has the kudzu root become a spirit? Hua Shi’an was stunned. He reached out and patted the kudzu root, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “You’re amazing, Yinglan. You’ve dug up the ancestor of the kudzu root.”

“An-ancestor? Really?” Hong Yinglan looked at the kudzu root in the soil and shivered for no reason. “Is it bad to have dug up an ancestor? Should, should we stop digging?”

He was just joking. Why did she take it so seriously? Hua Shi’an decisively swung his hoe. “I was just kidding. The bigger it is, the more we have to dig. Come on, I’ll dig this side, you dig that side. Let’s see if we can dig out the whole root.”

“Oh, oh, okay.” Hong Yinglan wiped her sweat and continued to swing her hoe.

With two hoes working together, the two of them dug for nearly ten minutes. Finally, the gentle slope was completely leveled, and the kudzu root “ancestor” was dug out intact.

He didn’t know how many years it had been growing in the soil. The kudzu root was large and long, comparable to an adult dwarf tree. Hua Shi’an held it up to compare. It was almost two meters long, even taller than himself.

“Phew, it’s really a big one. How are we supposed to carry this? Should we carry it?” Hong Yinglan was tired, her forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. But looking at the result in Hua Shi’an’s hands, the corners of her mouth lifted, and the excitement in her eyes was unconcealed.

Digging was hard work, and Hua Shi’an was also tired. He lifted the hem of his clothes and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then placed the kudzu root horizontally on the ground and took out a stone knife from his back basket. “It’s too heavy. It’s too much trouble to carry. Let’s cut it into small sections and carry it back. We have to break it up when we get back anyway.”

With that, Hua Shi’an’s knife rose and fell. He buried his head and chopped, quickly and swiftly dividing the kudzu root into four sections.

He would never be stubborn when he shouldn’t be. The kudzu root was too big. Hua Shi’an definitely couldn’t carry it alone. So he put the two small sections in Hong Yinglan’s back basket and the two large sections in his own.

The gentle slope had been dug up and couldn’t be filled back in. Hua Shi’an gave up after one look. He shouldered his back basket with the hoe and waved to Hong Yinglan. “Let’s go. This one kudzu root has already filled the back basket. Let’s go to the meeting point and put our things down first—”

“Wait a minute, Lord Priest. There’s a small one that fell here. I almost didn’t see it.”

“You don’t have to pick up the small ones. Just leave them—”

His words came to an abrupt halt. As Hua Shi’an spoke, he subconsciously turned his head and happened to see the “kudzu root” that Hong Yinglan had pulled out of the soil.

The oval-shaped brown tuber was held in the sub-beastman’s hand. At a glance, it did look like a kudzu root. But upon closer inspection, the color was slightly lighter, and the surface was smooth with small spots, not as rough as a kudzu root.

Hua Shi’an’s breath hitched. He rushed to Hong Yinglan in three big steps and, almost rudely, snatched the tuber from her hand, breaking it in half with both hands.

With a “crack,” the tuber broke in two, and a fresh, sweet fragrance drifted out. Hua Shi’an looked down, and sure enough, the flesh inside was orange-yellow, with almost no fibers, a world of difference from the coarse-fibered, yellowish-white cross-section of a kudzu root.

This was not a kudzu root. This was a potato, a sweet potato!

From confusion to ecstasy, the change in Hua Shi’an’s eyes was particularly obvious. Hong Yinglan glanced at the “kudzu root” with a puzzled expression and asked curiously, “This kudzu root is a bit different. Is it a very special variety?”

The air had become fresher. Hua Shi’an took a deep breath, handed half of the sweet potato to Hong Yinglan, the smile in his eyes growing stronger. “It’s not a kudzu root. This is a sweet potato. Look closely and remember what it looks like. It’s more important than a kudzu root, and a million times more delicious!”

…

He brought the two sections of sweet potato and the sweet potato vines he had dug up from the soil back to the meeting point. Hua Shi’an called over the tribe members who were exploring the jungle and had them identify them one by one.

He had had an unexpected harvest on his way back. When he set out again, Hua Shi’an glanced at the pile of kudzu roots and was surprised to find that the slightly larger sweet potatoes had already been dug up by the tribe members as kudzu roots.

The plan had changed. The main target of this trip had finally become sweet potatoes.

If there was one, there would be a second. The gathering team continued to shuttle through the jungle in groups of three. They dug for sweet potatoes when they found them, and dug for kudzu roots when they encountered them. They didn’t even let go of the inconspicuous piles of fallen leaves, turning them over with their hoes and taking away the mushrooms hidden in the dark corners.

Hunting in the forest was actually quite fun. Not to mention the feeling of fullness, Hua Shi’an was particularly fond of picking mushrooms.

He would pat the round, smooth cap, push aside the withered leaves and mud around the mushroom, hold the root and shake it left and right, and with a gentle pull, the faint sound of the mushroom leaving the soil was simply amazing, incredibly stress-relieving.

Large and plump porcini, brightly colored chanterelles, and morels that blended in with the withered leaves… mushrooms were popping up like bamboo shoots after a rain. Hua Shi’an loved them. He would take them, take them all, and pack them all up.

Picking mushrooms also had its unexpected surprises. For example, just now, Hua Shi’an had just harvested a giant, larger-than-a-basin porcini at the foot of a tree and was about to go and show it off to Yan Zhile and the others. But as he stood up, he inadvertently noticed a bulge in the soil at his feet.

Mushrooms would bulge the soil before they broke through. He thought it was another tender mushroom and started to dig with his hands. But after digging for a long time, there was no sign of a mushroom, and a pitch-black round lump rolled out of the soil.

It had to be said, this little thing looked like—an enlarged version of red sheep droppings.

With the previous lesson, Hua Shi’an was not very willing to touch it. But the next second, a gentle breeze blew by, and a unique, rich, and a little complex fragrance drifted past his nose.

Hua Shi’an’s nose twitched, his expression suddenly changed, and he grabbed the unremarkable little round lump.

After patting off the mud, the round lump was still pitch black. The surface was rugged and uneven, a bit like the shell of a lychee, or a piece of chocolate coated with crushed nuts.

He had never seen one growing in the forest, but he had seen one on a plate. Hua Shi’an knew at a sniff that this was the rare and sought-after, known as the underground gold—a black truffle.

With sweet potatoes and kudzu roots in his back basket, a porcini in his left hand, and a black truffle in his right, Hua Shi’an stood up against the wind, looked around, and suddenly chuckled.

The Giant Tree Forest should be renamed. It should be called the Treasure Forest.

Today’s harvest was a bit much. It couldn’t be carried back in one or two trips. Hua Shi’an followed the gathering team and ran back and forth, making four or five trips. By the time he returned to the tribe at sunset, his legs were weak.

He had walked a week’s worth of distance in one day. Hua Shi’an was exhausted, but the hard work was worth it. Looking at the piles of kudzu roots, sweet potatoes, and mushrooms on the grass, he was re-energized. After resting for a while, he led the tribe members to continue working.

Making kudzu powder was the same as making starch. The steps were many and tedious. Fortunately, there were many people in the tribe. Some washed, some peeled and cut… they worked together, busy but not chaotic.

The washed and cut kudzu roots were thrown into a stone pot. The smooth-bottomed wooden pestle fell heavily, and the dull thudding sound of “thump thump thump” continued to echo in the camp. The large pieces of kudzu root were crushed and ground, gradually turning into grayish-white coarse fibers.

The large pottery utensils that had been fired yesterday came in handy. The pounded kudzu root was scooped into a pottery basin, and clear water was added. It was first soaked and then washed, repeatedly, like washing clothes, to wash out the starch. Finally, the slurry was poured into a pottery vat to settle.

The kudzu roots they had dug up were mostly kudzu powder, and the powder yield was quite impressive. Only a small half of the kudzu root mountain on the grass had been leveled, and all the usable containers in the tribe had been used up. The camp was densely packed with bottles and jars.

Washing, peeling, cutting, pounding, washing, filtering, and finally, settling. After settling, the powder still had to be washed. It took nearly ten steps to get a bowl of kudzu powder, which was not easy.

There were not enough containers, so the remaining kudzu roots could only be processed tomorrow. Hua Shi’an washed his hands by the river, patted his empty stomach, and hurried towards the firelit camp.

The dry firewood was crackling and burning. The beef offal, which had been stewed until tender, was bubbling away in the pottery pot. The rich, meaty aroma drifted with the cooking smoke. Hua Shi’an followed the smell and came over, squatting by the fire pit and staring at the pottery pot without blinking.

There were no wild vegetables tonight. Sweet potatoes were buried in the wood ash. They seemed to be cooked. The chef, Yan Zhile, used a wooden stick to dig out a pile of black lumps, and a rich, sweet fragrance instantly filled the air.

Hungry, so hungry! Why isn’t the hunting team back yet!

Hua Shi’an’s eyes were straight, his throat moved slightly, and he couldn’t help but swallow his saliva.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. One moment he was thinking, and the next, a loud shout suddenly exploded, “The hunting team is back!”

Before he could finish speaking, the resting tribe members in the camp all stood up and went to the grass in groups of three or five to greet them.

They were back so late, so they must have had a harvest. Hua Shi’an patted his coir skirt and stood up, following the tail of the main group towards the grass.

A shout usually meant they had seen them from a distance. But by the time Hua Shi’an reached the grass, a group of beastmen had already crossed the paddy fields and were less than a hundred meters away.

The beastmen were empty-handed and had not caught any prey. But they were running very fast, as if an invincible fierce beast were chasing them from behind, or as if there were some urgent matter. The captain, Hong Yong, shouted as he ran, “Chief, Lord Priest! Our tribe members, our relatives may still be alive!”

“We’ve found the marks left by our tribe members!”