RPS – Chapter 41 Does the Chief Not Want It?

After waking up, Li Feng lay in bed, watching the autumn rain fall outside the window. Although the house had been built with a bit of a thatched eave, raindrops still bounced in here and there, leaving dark spots on the mud floor. Li Feng pulled the animal hide further up over the babies, and now the room already felt a bit chilly. Especially with his bare upper body, he tugged one corner of the hide over himself. He had sewn this hide together using a bone needle, employing a decorative stitch that left no gaps in the middle. The seams were only slightly raised at the joining edges, and with the fur covering them, they weren’t very noticeable. He had stitched it to be even larger than the bed so they could tuck both sides in like a quilt.

Covered by the hide, it really did feel more comfortable. Listening to the rain outside while lying quietly in a warm room—what a blessing that was. No need to go to work in the wind and rain like in modern times. Still, even so, Li Feng felt that the modern world was better. He still wanted to go back. At least in modern society, no one would accuse you of selfishness just for looking out for yourself and your family.

Thinking of what Ju and his brother had said, it really shocked him that such a small thing could overturn all the good he had done in their eyes. Was this the only thing they remembered about him now? Before transmigrating, he was just an orphan, an ordinary office worker. Even if he worked as a junior reporter for a food magazine, he’d never farmed before. Everything he knew came from some basic theory he’d heard or seen at the orphanage. How could he possibly be good at planting?

He just wanted to run a trial first. After all, more seeds meant a better chance at success. The wheat here was wild and somewhat shriveled, so planting would require more than in modern times. If he did succeed, he was planning to give the harvested grains to the tribe and teach them how to grow it! It’s just that right now, he wasn’t confident it would work. If it failed, wouldn’t they just say he was wasting food? Besides, he was planning to exchange meat—which they valued greatly—for something they considered useless. So why was he being judged so harshly?

At first, he didn’t notice the underlying meaning in the chief’s words. But later, seeing the chief’s half-smile and ambiguous tone, Li Feng became uneasy. He’d planned to plant some wheat at home first as a trial, and if it didn’t work, at least it wouldn’t be a public failure. After all, the tribe still operated under a system of public ownership and equal distribution. Doing things privately might be seen as wrong—but he hadn’t thought it would become this serious.

He had only just begun to prepare and was already being misunderstood to this extent. He did have some selfish thoughts, yes—but never malice. His selfishness only extended to wanting his family to be the first to eat white flour, to enjoy mantou and baozi before anyone else… How did it get twisted into something so ugly?

Before, whenever he discovered new things, as long as there was enough to go around, he always shared them with the tribe. He taught them how to eat, how to cook, how to use them. But those were wild items, like wild fruits—anyone who found them could claim them. So even if he tinkered with things at home, no one minded. But now, just because the seeds were in someone else’s hands, even if he traded for them, it still wasn’t acceptable? If not, fine—public ownership was understandable. But did it have to be made out to be so serious?

What made things worse was something he’d learned from Ju and his brother: outside the planting issue, the term everyone in the tribe was now talking about the most was “trade.” The tribe strongly disagreed with this word. Everything should be shared—how could anyone trade for something just for themselves? They had never used that term before. So when Li Feng introduced this concept, it only solidified the perception that he was selfish.

In truth, under such a primitive and undeveloped communal system based on equal distribution, the very idea of “trade” was completely unthinkable. So this wasn’t just about wheat seeds—it was about the concept Li Feng had introduced. What if in the future his family lacked something? Would they have to trade for it again? Originally, everything should have been free and fairly distributed. Why should they trade their own possessions to get what should already be shared? Especially when Li Feng had offered precious meat—the most valuable food—in exchange for what they considered useless grass seeds. This kind of precedent absolutely could not be allowed. Anyone who stuck their head out would be the one to get struck down.

“Ugh, forget it. This is so annoying—I don’t want to think about it anymore…” The more Li Feng thought about it, the more irritable he became. He threw off the hide and sat up straight.

“What even is this? Once you have surplus materials, trade is inevitable. That’s a natural part of social progress, don’t they get it? Why blow it up like it’s something horrible? And besides, I don’t even know how to plant wheat in the first place! How was I supposed to teach them or explain anything?!” Li Feng muttered and argued with himself. Everything felt so confusing—why was it all being pinned on him? He had good intentions. He wanted the tribe to develop. He wanted everyone to live a better, more stable life once things improved. So how did it all turn into this?

Everything had been going so well. Life was gradually improving—why did this have to happen now? He’d always wondered why he seemed so lucky—things had gone so smoothly he was nearly being worshipped like a god. Turns out, the real test was just beginning. Good luck doesn’t last forever.

“What are you mumbling to yourself about?”

Li Feng jumped at the sudden voice by his ear. Looking up, he saw Li had returned.

“You’re back?” he asked, then noticed that Li was soaked—his hair was dripping wet.

Li Feng quickly grabbed a clean hide and handed it over. “Hurry up and dry off. You’ll catch a cold in this weather.”

“Mm.” Li took the hide and ran it through his wet hair a few times, then stopped.

“Hey! Dry off properly or you’ll get sick,” Li Feng scolded as he caught the hide Li tossed aside. That kind of half-hearted effort was pointless.

“Then you do it for me.” Li suddenly sat down in front of Li Feng and leaned his head toward him.

Li Feng nearly wanted to smack him with the fur in his hand. This man really knew how to push his luck—giving him the fur was already being nice, yet he still expected Li Feng to wipe him down. “Wipe yourself,” Li Feng said, handing him the fur.

But who would have thought that Li wouldn’t even take it? He kept the same posture, just staring at Li Feng with that gentle gaze. His dark eyes seemed like they could overflow with water at any moment (at least that’s how Li Feng saw it). His expression and posture clearly said: You wipe me, or I won’t wipe at all.

Seeing the man’s long black hair dripping water in front of him, Li Feng glared at him fiercely before finally giving in and starting to wipe his hair. It wasn’t because he cared about him or was afraid he’d catch a cold—definitely not. It was just that if this man got sick and couldn’t go hunting, he’d be the one left to take care of everything. That was the only reason he softened up. Inwardly, Li Feng defended his weakness: “Was the rain heavy outside? Did you catch a lot today?”

“The rain was heavy. Less than yesterday. We only got a roe deer and a regular deer today,” Li replied. That was for their whole household, too.

“Hm, that little?” Ever since they started using traps, the amount of prey had increased significantly. Every household could get several animals, and occasionally even rabbits, pheasants, or wild ducks. Though those flying ones were rare since they were hard to catch.

“It rained today, so most of the animals hid.” Li closed his eyes and enjoyed Li Feng’s gentle, almost massage-like motions—he was about to fall asleep.

Just as he was getting drowsy, Li Feng suddenly jolted. “Ah! Crap, I forgot to check on the animals in the yard. And what if the thatched shed is leaking?!” It hadn’t rained since they’d built it, so they had no idea whether it would hold up in the rain or leak or even collapse.

“I’ll go check,” Li sighed, helpless. He had just started to enjoy himself, only to be startled awake by Li Feng. Now he couldn’t fall asleep again, so he might as well go check. His hair was nearly dry anyway.

“Wait, take this with you.” Li Feng quickly ran into the other room and came back with something in his hands. “Wear this so your hair won’t get wet in the rain.”

“What’s this?” Li looked at the round object in Li Feng’s hand as Li Feng tried to put it on his head.

“Hehe, this is a straw hat—it can shield you from the rain.” What Li Feng had brought out was indeed a straw hat. He had come up with the idea while weaving baskets and carrying frames, originally planning to use it for sun protection. He hadn’t even thought about using it in the rain—after all, in modern times there were umbrellas. Who would use something like this for rain? Unfortunately, he rarely went out, and since Li and the others mostly roamed the mountains, wearing this would only get in the way. So he’d just left it sitting aside. But now, with the rain, he suddenly remembered it.

The hat wasn’t exactly beautiful—it was a bit crooked, the brim was wide but irregularly shaped. Still, it was sturdy and didn’t droop. It was Li Feng’s own invention: he’d reinforced both the center and the outer ring with rattan, which gave the thatched brim and inner headpiece structure. He had even stuffed it with fur inside just now, making it truly rainproof. It was almost like a gauze hat… no, a fur hat.

Li looked at it in amazement, and Bu and Nuo, who had followed him out, clicked their tongues in surprise.

“I was wondering why you were weaving that strange thing—so it really had a use! That’s great! Now we don’t have to worry about getting stuck inside when it rains,” Nuo exclaimed happily.

“Let me wear it—I’ll go check for you.” Nuo quickly took the hat off Li’s head and put it on his own. He’d already overheard their conversation earlier, and now was the perfect time to test out how well the hat worked.

Li Feng didn’t mind, and neither did Li. The hat was interesting, sure, but not getting soaked was even better. He’d already worn it, even if only briefly, and they’d find out soon how useful it really was from Nuo’s test run.

Bu watched Nuo run into the rain with indulgent affection. He really was like a child—just a little novelty could make him so happy.

“Let’s just cook in the dining room tonight,” Li Feng said to the others. The dining room was quite large, and they had originally planned to use it for cooking when it rained. Since it had windows, there was no need to worry about smoke, and Li Feng always kept some firewood and charcoal in there. They didn’t have to worry about running out.

Plus, both the kitchen and the shed were stocked full of firewood for winter. Even if it rained, they wouldn’t lack dry wood for cooking.

“Hey, this hat is awesome! Look—I’m barely wet, and my hair’s still dry!” Normally, what they feared most during rainy days was wet hair—it was uncomfortable and took forever to dry. Their bodies only had one fur wrap anyway, which dried easily.

“Then let’s make a few more next time.”

“Yeah! I’ll help you. Let’s make some even bigger ones, so our whole bodies stay dry,” Nuo suggested, struck with sudden inspiration.

“You and your ideas,” Li Feng laughed. “If it’s that big, how would you see the road? You wouldn’t even be able to lift your head.” He’d had the same idea when he was little, but once he actually made it, the brim ended up being so wide and low that it covered his eyes completely. He couldn’t see the road at all—only his feet. Crashing into something would’ve been inevitable.

“Haha… that’s true. Why didn’t I think of that?” Nuo laughed.

“You…” Bu gently touched his ear and looked at him indulgently with a smile.

After dinner, once Li Feng had coaxed Mo and the baby to sleep, Li finally spoke, “Did Ju Hao and the others come today?” Nuo had already told him earlier while Li Feng was cooking.

“Yeah, they came to apologize.” Li Feng’s hand, which was gently patting the baby to sleep, paused momentarily, then continued.

“Let’s give the hat to the chief tomorrow, let them learn how to make it too,” Li sighed and pulled Li Feng into his arms. He just wanted the chief to understand that Li Feng had no selfish intentions. Anything beneficial to the tribe, Li Feng was always willing to share and teach.

Li Feng didn’t resist and let Li hug him from behind. “Okay, do as you like.” He knew Li was doing this for his sake. He had thought about living his own life and not getting involved, even considered moving elsewhere. But he didn’t know if Li and the others would be willing. After all, this was the tribe where they had grown up, their reliance and their home.

Most importantly, he understood how harsh winters could be here—predatory beasts unable to find food would attack the tribe and humans. If they moved out on their own, they’d likely become prey. Only by staying with the tribe would they have a chance at survival. There was safety in numbers; wild beasts rarely dared to approach the tribe.

Since they would continue living here and relying on the tribe, he had to soften his stance and show sincerity. At the same time, it would remind the clanspeople who wanted to learn hat-weaving of the contributions he had made to the tribe, instead of letting one incident erase everything he had done.

The night passed uneventfully. The next day, it was still raining. Since every household had food stored and animals raised, and since the chances of catching anything in this weather were slim, no one went out hunting. Li, wearing the hat, went straight to the chief, while Li Feng got up to cook.

When Li Feng went to the backyard latrine to “return what he had borrowed from nature,” he checked the grass shed while passing by. It looked sturdy enough, and the animals were huddled underneath it, munching on the hay stacks they’d gathered earlier. They looked quite content. Because they fed the animals regularly and diligently, going out often to cut fresh grass, all the animals were well-fed and robust. Seeing this, Li Feng squinted his eyes in satisfaction and nodded. Good. Hopefully they stay this healthy all winter. These animals were their food supply—of course, the fatter, the better.

The shed was quite large from the start. Plus, with all the other food sources they had—grains, sweet potatoes, taro, fish, shrimp, mussels, and later even corn and soybeans, along with a bounty of fruit—they hadn’t needed to slaughter many animals. By now, they had a considerable number in the shed, and with some already pregnant, there were probably a few dozen. Since they hunted daily but rarely slaughtered, they had more animals than most families in the tribe. These would be enough to get through the winter.

“Huh? What’s that…” Li Feng forgot about the beast skin covering his head to shield him from the rain and rushed toward one of the wooden frames. He hadn’t noticed it earlier while checking the structure. Just as he was about to leave, he caught sight of something good.

On the wood, there was a small cluster of black fungus (wood ear mushrooms). He hadn’t noticed them before due to the dry weather. But now, after the rain, they had grown. And judging by the slightly dark green hue and thick texture, these were autumn wood ears. He hadn’t known about them before—wood ears were wood ears, right? But once, during an interview with a chef, the chef had cooked with these and specifically mentioned that autumn wood ears were even more nutritious and better than regular black wood ears. He’d gone on and on about the benefits, though Li Feng didn’t remember the details—just that they were excellent. At the time, he’d even thought they were mold or poisonous. When he asked, the chef had laughed at him for a good while.

As a kid, they had picked lots of wood ears. After all, where weren’t there fallen logs? Not every piece of wood had them, but plenty did. After the rain, the children would race to find them, pushing and jostling each other in search. Then they’d bring them back and ask the kitchen auntie to add them to the meals. The taste was unforgettable—it was one of the better things they could eat back then.

The joy of hunting for wood ears after the rain was one of the most vivid memories of his childhood. The fun of crawling through the underbrush with friends, laughing and shouting, and the sense of discovery—it was like finding treasure.

Li Feng picked all the wood ears off that log. He left the small ones to grow and continued searching nearby. Today, they could eat something fresh! Wood ears stir-fried with meat—delicious.

He gathered quite a lot using the beast skin as a makeshift pouch. Most were regular black wood ears, not the autumn variety—those were rarer. But still, he was very pleased. Any kind of wood ear was tasty.

However, fresh wood ears can be toxic. A little was okay, but too much could cause symptoms like skin allergies—itching, swelling, even blistering. He remembered how many kids in the orphanage back then had these reactions after eating too many. It wasn’t until a trip to the hospital that they realized it was due to overindulgence and weak constitutions.

That was when he learned that fresh wood ears could be poisonous. It was best to dry them in the sun, then rehydrate and wash them three or four times. That would remove the toxins. The key was the heat from sun drying—it killed the harmful substances.

But wood ears only grew after rain. At other times, they were shriveled and hard to find. He’d considered cooking some fresh ones today, but with Mo, the child, in the house, it was best not to risk it. Better to dry them first—safer that way.

Before he knew it, Li Feng had spent a long time outside in the autumn rain. He’d gathered a large pile of wood ears. But after sneezing once, he decided to stop. No matter how many more there were, it wasn’t worth catching a cold. Being sick out here was no joke—no hospitals, no doctors, no medicine.

Just as he ran back into the house, still wet from the rain, Li returned—hat still on his head.

“Huh? You’re still wearing the hat?” Li Feng frowned. “Did the chief not want it?”