Ninety-First Day: The Caged Feast (Part Two)

The wild boar trap was finally completed, but I also spoke with Brother Qian about setting up a simple, low warning fence to prevent anyone from our own group or little Hei from accidentally falling in.

Brother Qian did not object to this request. He noted that we were not much at risk, given that the trap was situated at the edge of the woods just outside the courtyard. However, little Hei was a different story; precautions had to be taken, because if the little dog were to fall in, it would undoubtedly spell certain doom.

We decided to use thin branches, sticking them in a circle around the trap. Little Hei would naturally steer clear of these obstacles during its daily movements. Wild boars, on the other hand, were accustomed to charging blindly ahead and would never alter their path simply due to such petty twigs. They would undoubtedly keep pushing forward, and the moment they stepped past those flimsy branches, a deadly trap would be waiting for them.

With this task finished, Brother Qian and I headed over to the enclosure being built to hold the giant tortoises. It was evident that among the group, Yi Dianban was the one primarily in charge of the actual labor. He possessed a fair amount of experience in weaving these fences; under his hands, branches and vines were repeatedly intertwined and bound until they were firmly secured together. Within mere minutes, a small panel of interwoven branches took shape in his hands. These panels were meant to be fastened along the edges of the fence to keep the giant tortoises from escaping over the wooden log barrier.

Yet, despite Yi Dianban’s swift pace, there was simply no way they could finish everything before nightfall today; it seemed we would have to wait until tomorrow to continue. However, where should these giant tortoises be kept for the night? This presented quite a headache.

Fortunately, there were still plenty of leftover wooden logs from when we built our treehouse, so we didn't need to go out of our way to chop down new trees. Crucially, these logs had already been cleared of their branches and twigs. With Brother Qian joining the fence-building crew, their speed increased significantly. From the looks of it, these fences would likely be finished before nightfall.

The only minor regret was that while all of us could make the branch panels, none turned out quite as well as Yi Dianban’s, meaning that job still had to be left solely to him. Was there anything we could use as a temporary substitute for these branch panels? We certainly couldn't keep the giant tortoises inside my treehouse for the night, could we? Or tie them up with vines? Or perhaps place them temporarily into the earthen kiln pit?

Yet, one by one, I dismissed all these ideas as impractical. It was still best to keep them penned here. But what on earth could be used to temporarily replace those branch panels? It was precisely at that moment that my gaze fell upon the giant tortoises... and it was from that very glance that a brilliant idea suddenly struck me!

Right! Fishing nets! I gave myself a hard smack on the head. For someone who had just woken up to the solution, it wasn't too late yet. With so many fishing nets on hand, why worry about lacking a substitute? I had been utterly foolish.

I immediately rushed back to the treehouse, gathered up all the remaining fishing nets in one armful, and prepared to hang them along the fence. Then, I would drive wooden stakes deep into the ground, weaving each stake through the meshes of the nets. Once that was done, these giant tortoises would have no way of escape, wouldn't they? I had plenty of fishing nets; if a single layer wasn't enough, I could fold them to create multiple layers, perfectly blocking any attempt at escape by the tortoises.

Naturally, this was only a temporary measure, but as long as it could get us through tonight, that would suffice; long-term use wasn't necessary. After discussing this suggestion with the others, everyone agreed it was entirely feasible.

By the time we wrapped everything up, night was just about to fall. Everyone was exhausted to the bone, but at the thought of a grand feast for dinner, excitement surged in every single person. At a time like this, no matter how precious these giant tortoises were, for the sake of survival and food, we could no longer afford to hesitate. Although the fruit tasted decent enough, growing weary of it after eating too much had happened long ago, unless one managed to stumble upon new varieties. Even if new varieties existed, none of us dared to sample them at random.

The weather over the past two days had been lovely, and everything was beginning to turn for the better. They had already slaughtered one giant tortoise, and Brother Qian claimed he had quite a deft hand at cooking turtle meat, so I left that task to them while I prepared to take a stroll around. I wondered if the unbaked clay bricks had dried yet.

Passing by their treehouse, I stepped inside to take a look. The ground, previously dampened by rainwater leaks, had dried out quite a bit. Although the earth beneath the floorboards might not have dried entirely, it shouldn't pose any real problem. The space left aside for the earthen stove remained completely bare; they were probably waiting for things to dry out completely before building it. With so many hands, it wouldn't take long to finish.

Arriving at the workstation, the unbaked clay bricks lay there quietly. The impact marks left by raindrops on the surfaces of the outermost bricks were clearly visible. Hopefully, these marks wouldn't cause any issues during the firing process...

The bricks weren't completely dry yet. Although the surface felt more or less dry to the touch, lifting one revealed that the tile still retained a slight flexibility, scaring me into immediately putting it back down. Every single brick represented my painstaking effort; while the firing time itself wasn't very long, the entire preparation process was agonizingly protracted, and wasting even a single piece meant wasting time.

Judging by the current condition, however, I figured these bricks would be thoroughly sun-dried by tomorrow, and we should be able to fire up the kiln by tomorrow afternoon.

"Brother Luo, time to eat!" Perhaps I had been too absorbed in my thoughts; I hadn't realized how much time had passed before the giant tortoise meat was actually ready. It seemed my deep contemplation had made time slip away unnoticed.

"Alright, coming!" I immediately answered Ye Qingchen and headed toward the treehouse. He was the only one who addressed me in that manner, which was precisely why I found him endearing—at least on the surface. Ye Qingchen's emotional intelligence was noticeably higher than that of the others. Of course, one couldn't rule out the possibility that some people simply played the fool on purpose.

I never imagined that a single giant tortoise, divided among six people, could yield such a massive basin of food. It was truly hard to fathom. As soon as I sat down, Brother Qian offered an explanation: "Brother Luo, I divided the four legs into six portions so everyone gets a share, you see."

"Brother Qian, you're being too formal. Everyone respects you the most, Brother Qian, so how could I possibly harbor any other thoughts?" In truth, his explanation left me somewhat displeased. Why, was he afraid I'd feel the distribution was unfair? Did I usually appear that petty? Naturally, I couldn't rule out that he said this deliberately beforehand to avoid any potential trouble. After all, Brother Qian was always impeccably thorough in everything he did, though his flaws were equally obvious—he was far too conservative. If he had chosen to leave the earliest shelter a bit earlier back then, probably fewer people would have died. Besides, there was simply no need for him to have made that remark to me just now...

With that said, conversation ceased among the group. The primary reason was that everyone's attention had been entirely captured by the steaming stew of giant tortoise before us. Despite the immense size of the tortoises, which suggested the meat might be tough and stringy, the finished stew looked remarkably tender and falling apart. With the skin stripped away, it bore a striking resemblance to a large chunk of beef...

A layer of glistening oil floated atop the soup, alongside a few wild-herb-like stems drifting within the broth, exuding a faint medicinal herbal aroma. This must have been something Ying Yuefeng had foraged to neutralize the gamey odor. I had no inclination to question him about it; the mouth-watering fragrance instantly awakened ravenous appetites, leaving no time for idle chatter. Only a single thought echoed in my mind: Taste it quickly! Hurry!

Quickly picking up a piece of meat with my chopsticks, I popped it into my mouth and began to chew. My expression shifted instantly; I had to take back what I thought earlier, because the meat wasn't falling apart at all—instead, it possessed an extraordinary degree of springy resilience. This was undoubtedly the leg meat: bouncy without being tough, aromatic without being gamey. A intense wave of savory richness stimulated every single taste bud on my tongue, spreading rapidly throughout my entire body...

Originally, I had intended to savor it slowly, bit by bit, but I simply couldn't restrain myself. After chewing for a brief moment, my throat bobbed, and the turtle meat slid smoothly down into my stomach. I had to admit that the flavor of this giant tortoise far surpassed that of sea turtles; sea turtle meat was comparatively tougher than this, lacked such a distinct savory depth, and didn't offer the same bouncy texture against the teeth. Sea turtle meat tended to be slightly on the tough side...

Of course, this might well be attributed to the method of preparation. Had I cooked this giant tortoise myself, it might have turned out just like the sea turtle...