Chapter 13

The rooting solution was exactly what Bai Shuo needed at the moment. Whether for transplantation or cuttings, there was always a chance of failure. With the aid of rooting solution, even if not guaranteed a hundred percent success, it would at least increase the survival rate. In the wild, every plant dug up meant one less, so having one more survive meant more food at the end of the growing season.

The remaining branches before him were all leftover due to unsuitable thickness or removed as excess during weaving. Normally, these would just be tossed in a corner to dry naturally and then burned for firewood. Using them to soak water for irrigation was simply making full use of them.

With this in mind, Bai Shuo pointed to the willow branches on the ground and said to Bai Xun, “Father, could you help me crush these?” The branches were too thick now; breaking them down would help dissolve the useful components more easily.

The old father, Bai Xun, who had long trained his cub to do whatever was asked, readily agreed. He grabbed a large stone and began smashing them vigorously. Bai Shuo then took a bamboo tube, placed the crushed willow branches inside, poured in some water, covered the opening with leaves, and tied it with hemp rope.

After finishing this, he took a few willow branches about the size of his pinky, placed them on a stone, and lightly pounded them—not to break them, but to create a sort of “toothbrush.”

Previously, Bai Shuo could only rinse his mouth. Suddenly, he recalled that the earliest toothbrushes were made from willow branches. On a whim, he decided to try it.

Willow branches were rich in fibers, and when pounded open, they resembled a frayed toothbrush. After rinsing it clean with water, he brushed for a while. Whether it was his imagination or not, his mouth did feel somewhat cleaner.

Bai Shuo decided to use it temporarily as a substitute toothbrush. As for toothpaste, he ground bamboo charcoal made from burned bamboo and mixed it with a little saltwater to make a simple form of toothpaste, storing it in a small bamboo tube for next use.

Personal hygiene items +1.

In fact, toothpaste made from salt and bamboo charcoal worked better, but thinking about the limited salt left at home, he had to wait until the next salt trade to make more. Salt was one of the tribe’s most precious resources; even though his family had a bit more, it was barely enough for meals, let alone toothpaste. That would be far too extravagant.

Bai Shuo made several more toothbrushes the same way and distributed them to others at home, encouraging everyone to brush.

Bai Yun and Bai Su were the first to accept it. Bai Xun had initially resisted, but after hearing that brushing would prevent toothaches, he decided to give it a try.

As for Bai Le, he didn’t need to be persuaded. While Bai Shuo brushed, Bai Le was already playing around, his face covered with black handprints.

Before bed, Bai Shuo discussed with Bai Xun and Bai Yun, “Father, Mother, could you help me cut some more willow branches tomorrow morning? More than today.”

Bai Xun promised, “Don’t worry, I’ll cut a big pile for you.”

Bai Yun remembered the small basket his youngest son had carried earlier and asked, “Do you want to weave more baskets?”

Bai Shuo nodded, “Yes, yesterday’s was small. I want to make a few bigger ones. Once I teach Aunt Cai Lin, she can weave baskets for Mother. My hands are too small and weak to make the ones for the picking team; those still need adult tribe members.”

Bai Yun gently rubbed her child’s head and said sympathetically, “I’ll help you weave tomorrow.”

“It’s okay, Mother, I’m not tired at all,” Bai Shuo waved his hand. With a team of helpers, he wouldn’t be exhausted.

The next morning, after descending the mountain, Bai Shuo went to the riverbank to brush his teeth and wash his face, then sorted through the willow branches Bai Xun and Bai Yun had brought before setting off. Approaching the cooking area, he saw a huge pile of willow branches—several times more than he needed. Presumably, worried he wouldn’t have enough, the branches were piled not high but wide, nearly surrounding his cooking spot.

Had Father and Mother brought these before dawn? Bai Shuo felt a twinge of guilt for not waking earlier. With so many, he certainly wouldn’t use them all; they would last him, Cai Lin, and others two or three days.

As he mused, a group of cubs gathered around.

“Bai Shuo, Bai Shuo, I want a basket!”

“Me too! Bai Shuo, can you make me one?”

“I’ll trade you red-capped fruit for one.”

“My father carried lots of branches for me! Please make me one!”

Amid their clamoring, Bai Shuo understood why there were so many willow branches. It wasn’t just two people who had brought them back, but a whole group—that explained the abundance.

Originally, his plan for the day was to teach Cai Lin to weave. Now, after considering, Bai Shuo told the cubs: “Go work first. Those who do well will get a basket tonight.”

Upon hearing this, the cubs scattered; some went to water plants, others to collect branches. Since a few days ago, the tribe’s cubs had a new task: watering the plants Bai Shuo had planted. Previously a secret mission, it had now become a necessary one.

When these plants matured, a tenth of the yield belonged to them, so the cubs took their jobs seriously and were especially obedient.

Worried some cubs might fall into the river or trample the plants, Bai Shuo asked Bai Su to watch over them, leaving only himself and his younger brother Bai Le.

Bai Le was young; even though strong, his short legs couldn’t keep up with the others during the day, so he stayed in the open area nearby. Bai Shuo looked at his little chubby hands, which couldn’t stop fiddling with willow leaves, and glanced down at the carefree cubs running and climbing at the mountain’s base.

Some cubs were about Bai Le’s age; the older ones didn’t exceed five years old. They could walk and run but, like Bai Le, were too young to collect branches or go near the river, so they stayed down below.

After thinking for a moment, Bai Shuo asked Bai Le, “Do you want something even more fun than a basket?”

Without hesitation, Bai Le nodded, “Yes!”

Bai Shuo said, “Then go call those cubs over here to play—the more, the better.”

Bai Le immediately stopped fiddling with the leaves and went to gather the others.

The cubs’ daily life was mostly play, but the tribe had very few items for eating, using, or playing, so life was quite dull. Their biggest worry was where to play or how to win back a lost game. When Bai Le said they were going to play elsewhere, they followed eagerly.

Upon arriving, some cubs, like Bai Le, couldn’t resist pulling at the leaves on the willow branches. Cub life rarely saw fresh willow branches—mostly dry twigs from other trees—so their curiosity was piqued.

Bai Shuo pretended not to notice their little antics. Once enough cubs gathered, he said, “You can play here.”

He turned to leave but stopped after a few steps, suddenly remembering to add, “Oh, don’t pick the leaves. That’s work only for big brothers and sisters; you’re still too young.”

Only after this did Bai Shuo truly leave.

Not all cubs were pulling leaves; some played hide-and-seek around the willow piles. But upon hearing his warning, all stopped, looked at him, and as soon as he left, their hands darted toward the leaves again.

Those who hadn’t wanted to pick leaves before now found it interesting after hearing it was only for older siblings.

Bai Shuo took one-fifth of the water from the willow soak from the previous night and watered several transplanted red-capped fruit saplings. Returning, he saw many leaf-stripped willow branches scattered on the ground, their surfaces incredibly smooth. The cubs sat on the ground, busily pulling at leaves, glancing guiltily at Bai Shuo when he returned, trying to hide behind themselves.

Bai Shuo feigned ignorance of their mischief, collected the leafless branches, and went to find Cai Lin.

Originally planning to practice again today and teach others in the afternoon or evening, with so many willow branches available, he decided to practice while teaching everyone.

Cai Lin, who had seen Bai Le’s basket the night before, asked upon seeing Bai Shuo with the willow, “Bai Shuo, do you want me to help?”

Bai Shuo nodded, “Aunt Cai Lin, my strength is limited. Please help me weave a big one.”

“Okay, tell me how to weave it and I’ll help.”

Bai Shuo gave the thicker branches to Cai Lin and kept the thinner ones, demonstrating beside her. To increase load-bearing, the bottom of the large basket had four sturdy branches, which were tough to bend, but luckily the feathered tribe was strongest in strength. After weaving the bottom and bending several thick branches up, Bai Shuo fixed them with hemp rope while Cai Lin continued weaving upwards.

Bai Shuo wove his smaller version, occasionally glancing at Cai Lin’s progress. While they worked, an elder who had finished eating approached.

There weren’t many elders in the tribe due to chronic food shortages and the short average lifespan of the feathered tribe. The Hundred Feather Tribe had thirteen elders who couldn’t hunt outside. Their daily tasks included watching over cubs who couldn’t yet go out to play, gathering fallen branches, neatly stacking them, dividing the hunt’s spoils, and recently, twisting hemp rope. Seeing the work underway, some came over to watch, and two impatient ones even started helping.

Bai Shuo finished fixing his smaller basket, handed it to one elder who was first to learn, and took more materials to make a second, encouraging them to start weaving the rim. The elders, having woven smaller baskets before, quickly became more proficient and tried weaving larger ones without issue.

Watching Cai Lin and the elders get the hang of it, Bai Shuo counted the small baskets—just enough in number—and began considering other ideas.

Willow’s flexibility made it ideal for weaving not only baskets but also containers. Weaving techniques for baskets and carriers were quite similar; mastering one made learning the other easier. Baskets could be carried by hand, useful for the picking team to carry several, especially when needing to carefully place cubs inside. With basket protection, placing them in the larger carriers wouldn’t crush them; if still worried, they could be tied to the carrier with rope.

From morning till dusk, Bai Shuo, Cai Lin, and others wove baskets and carriers. Near mealtime, Bai Shuo stacked small baskets inside a large carrier and carried all the small baskets away.

Thus, every cub who went out to work today received a small basket slightly bigger than Bai Le’s.

The cubs who had spent the day pulling leaves were stunned when they saw them, pouting and nearly crying.

Bai Shuo quickly took out a basket from behind himself and poured out the contents.

He had deliberately brought back many small baskets to cheer the cubs up. These small baskets could hold seeds or be used to soothe the cubs—very practical.

Sure enough, the cubs on the verge of tears brightened immediately, their expressions changing swiftly.

Bai Shuo gave one to each cub, instructing, “Keep coming to work tomorrow.”

Both older and younger cubs nodded in agreement. The older ones were accustomed to following Bai Shuo’s instructions, while the younger ones viewed everywhere as playgrounds and were eager to listen if fun things were promised.

Not only did the cubs appreciate the carriers and baskets, but the adult feathered tribe members also recognized their usefulness.

That night, the picking team returned and tested the carriers’ load capacity. Without hesitation, they went out en masse to cut more willow branches.

Willow could be woven into many tools beyond carriers and baskets. Bai Shuo also experimented with making trays, which would make carrying bowls and utensils much easier. Instead of ferrying items up and down one trip at a time, everything could be transported at once.

Willow trays also served to store food. Previously, fruits in the cave were simply placed on the ground, sometimes layered with dry grass. Now, with willow trays, Bai Shuo told Cai Lin they could sort fruits by ripeness, so the ripest could be taken first without rummaging through everything. The trays were breathable, allowing the fruit to be aired occasionally, making the cave much cleaner and eliminating the rotten fruit smell.

Soon, they discovered a new use: tying the woven willow trays to trees. This was sturdier than the previous branch-made structures and, importantly, easy to move. If they didn’t want to stay in one place, untying and relocating was simple.

Bai Shuo’s eyes lit up. He took out the fine, discarded willow branches and began weaving bird nests. Since they were woven, shapes and sizes could be freely designed. He planned to make one with a large belly and smaller ends, with an entrance in the middle, suitable for hanging from trees or placing on the ground—usable anywhere.

At first, no one noticed. When it was nearly finished, all eyes in the family turned to his hands.

Bai Xun and Bai Yun said, “If we put all the cubs inside…”

Bai Su added, “If the younger brother lives in here, he won’t wander off.”

Bai Le chimed in, “Looks like you can crawl inside to play.”

Upon completion, Bai Shuo compared the size and told his brother, “Le, transform into your feather form.”

Without hesitation, Bai Le transformed and crawled inside the nest, happily flapping his short wings.

Normally, a cub’s feather form weighed around two pounds. Bai Le was larger than most, about three pounds. Bai Shuo’s nest was big; Bai Le could fit inside comfortably, and Bai Su could join too. As for Bai Shuo himself, he didn’t worry; there was enough room for him as well.

Bai Xun picked up the nest and shook it, impressed by Bai Shuo’s skillful weaving. Even if shaken, the cubs wouldn’t fall out. He liked it even more and said, “Next time, we’ll use this to take you all out.” Putting several cubs inside, there’d be no fear of any falling while flying.

The willow nests won the family’s favor. After watching the whole process, Bai Yun wove a large version that the entire family could fit in. Placed inside the cave and lined with animal skins, it was warmer than sleeping directly on the ground with skins. Though not obvious now, this warmth would be crucial during rainy and snowy seasons.

So, after weaving their own carriers, baskets, and trays, they began making nests. The nearby willow trees visibly lost their leaves at a rapid pace.

Besides willow, Bai Shuo also searched for other weaving materials. Reeds and cattails by the river were on the list, as were vines outside, though many plants hadn’t matured yet and had to wait until late in the growing season for harvest. Currently, besides willow, cattails were the most abundant.

Unlike willow, cattails and reeds required drying after cutting, but dry stalks from the previous year, once soaked, could be used.

Bai Shuo wove two pot lids from reeds. Though they’d been cooking with stone pots for a long time, they’d never used lids before. At most, they covered pots with leaves, but leaves softened with steam and were less practical than woven lids. During weaving, he incorporated handles to prevent burns.

With all these woven tools, the household’s equipment grew steadily. The harvested wheat now had dedicated drying racks instead of being spread on the ground.

Besides gaining a slew of new tools, Bai Shuo also tested a simple version of rooting solution on plants. It worked effectively, with better results over longer soaking times. He typically used a three-day soak due to limited bamboo tubes, as longer soaks were not cost-effective.

Looking at the bamboo tubes before him, he pondered.

Bai Yun, thinking he had run out of tubes, offered, “Mother will bring bamboo back for you tomorrow.” With carriers, the picking team could bring back many more items, making it easy to harvest several bamboo stalks.

But Bai Shuo shook his head, “No need, Mother, not for now.”

Although the picking team could bring bamboo, he found it too troublesome and felt the tools needed improvement.

Currently, the tribe had four types of water containers: leaves, stone pots, wooden buckets, and bamboo tubes.

Leaves were disposable, convenient to obtain, but held little volume—the largest only about the size of a bowl. They were good for holding fruits and leafy vegetables but not ideal for water since leaves, even sturdy ones, were fragile.

Stone pots were sturdy but heavy—each weighing several dozen pounds—making them basically immovable and only used for cooking.

Wooden buckets were large and lightweight but were made by cutting and hollowing thick tree sections, a complicated process. The entire tribe only had a few, and his family had only one.

Bamboo tubes were easy to harvest and make but small in capacity. Bundled tubes were awkward to carry.

Bai Shuo missed the variety of modern tools but knew making plastic and metal items was impossible in his current situation.

However, there was one item he could attempt: pottery.