016 The Basket Craze

When Huahong and Yezi returned, Mushí had already woven three baskets. Since they were all small, he managed to finish them quickly.

The two immediately fell in love with the ingenious baskets upon seeing their usefulness.

These baskets were incredibly practical—they could hold a lot, and were easy to carry.

The next day, a basket-making craze swept through the tribe.

Everyone capable of moving went out to find vines suitable for weaving baskets and began making their own.

Within just five days, almost every household had baskets in use.

Linyan observed that people here were remarkably skilled with their hands—true artisans.

Those who went out hunting carried two baskets each: empty in the morning, but always full upon return.

Previously, gathering wild fruits was inconvenient to bring back since they could only be carried by hand or in large leaves, which held only a few at a time.

Now, a single basket could hold many fruits, greatly improving efficiency.

Soon after, Linyan received all kinds of wild fruits, never worrying about food again.

With the hot weather and short storage time, she shared the excess fruits and fresh meat from her home with the elders and children.

After the fire pit was established, smoked meat could be preserved longer.

People learned to smoke meat to store food for the cold season.

Some solitary elders and small families without many members gradually moved their caves closer to Linyan’s home.

They were the first to realize living near her brought more conveniences. She was busy every day making many new things, needing many helpers.

This area was on the tribe's outskirts; deeper inside lay the hunting grounds. The land was vast enough for many people to live comfortably.

More and more people gathered here, making it livelier.

Linyan began to grow familiar with those around her.

A new neighbor named Old Hei appeared—he looked old and on the brink of death, though he was actually under thirty.

He had been seriously injured during a hunting trip, leaving one leg crippled and his body weak.

Food shortages and lack of medical care had reduced him to this state.

Despite his disability, Old Hei had bright eyes and a sharp mind.

He noticed Linyan’s difference and, abandoning his previous resignation to death, was the first to move nearby as her neighbor.

In recent days, Old Hei frequently took advantage of his proximity to her, often meeting with Linyan, and naturally, they became acquainted.

Like a man reborn, Old Hei grew more curious about Linyan—a young girl who knew things others didn’t—and together they made many items.

Old Hei loved the fire pit most. With fire, he ate cooked meat and drank hot water, and his health gradually improved. He felt strength returning after a long absence.

Linyan called Old Hei over and asked him to take some wild fruits from the basket to eat.

He accepted without hesitation. Though impaired, his craftsmanship was excellent, just like Mushí’s—quick to grasp new skills.

He often made baskets to bring to Linyan’s home and immediately showed her any strange new things he found.

Recently, some tribe members traded with him—exchanging baskets, hemp ropes, and the like for food.

“Old Hei, do you know where there’s clay? Not ordinary dirt, but sticky clay,” Linyan asked.

Old Hei, once a warrior who had traveled extensively, naturally had seen many things.

He thought for a moment, then asked uncertainly, “What’s sticky clay?”

Linyan explained, “It’s a kind of soil with very little sand, sticky in texture, water doesn’t easily pass through it, and it has good plasticity. It’s lighter in color and looks different from regular dirt.”

She scooped some soil from the ground while speaking.

Old Hei looked puzzled, unable to picture what sticky clay was.

He asked, “Why are you looking for sticky clay?”

“For firing pottery to make new things,” Linyan replied.

She wasn’t discouraged—many had never seen it, and finding it wouldn’t be easy.

Given the current situation, pottery was the best option to make daily utensils.

They had originally planned to use wood, but without cutting tools, that plan was shelved for now. She believed pottery would be easier to realize.

Linyan molded some bowls, plates, cups, and jars from mud, explaining the pottery firing process to Old Hei.

Although they had no materials yet, it was still worth discussing.

Old Hei’s eyes brightened with enthusiasm, eager to find sticky clay immediately.

“I’ll go look for clay.”

“Where will you look?” Linyan hurried to ask. “It’s too dangerous outside—don’t go out.”

“I won’t go out,” Old Hei said excitedly. “There are many people in the tribe. I’ll ask each one if they have seen any. I’ll get the hunting team to help search. We’ll find it eventually.”

Watching Old Hei leave with such zeal, Linyan felt a surge of hope.

She was still too young to search herself.

After a moment of daydreaming, Linyan noticed nearby rabbit pelts hanging—black, white, gray, and mottled—skins recently stripped by her mother.

None were intact; all had holes of various sizes, looking ragged.

They had been washed clean and stored for the cold season’s protective clothing.

Despite multiple washings, the smell remained, always detectable.

The tribe’s members all wore such animal skins, and the scent was unmistakable as they walked by.

Linyan entered the “technology hall” to seek solutions.

She quickly found two simple methods: one using fire, the other using soil.

Fire method: Slowly soften the skin over a low flame, then rub it with wood ash or charcoal, repeatedly pounding and repeating this process. Finally, wash and air dry it to obtain softer leather.

Soil method: Pound and wash the skin repeatedly with animal entrails and fats in alkaline soil, ultimately producing soft leather.

Both methods produced leather softer and less odorous than simply air-dried skins, making them excellent options.

But with current conditions, only the fire method was feasible—the soil method required specific soil types not yet accessible.

Linyan told Mushí to pause basket weaving and help with leather processing.

If successful, they would have softer, less smelly rabbit skin clothing—comfortable and warm.

Warm clothing was a high priority for the tribe.

Mushí immediately threw himself into the work, pounding and working tirelessly for five days until he produced a decent piece of leather.

Linyan squatted nearby daily, watching Mushí work, while Fatbao helped record and summarize their findings.

Though not as good as described in books, the leather was a vast improvement over what they had before—no longer hard and dry or strongly smelly—and could be sewn into garments.

This piece of leather quickly attracted neighbors’ attention, who flocked over to learn the tanning process.

Every household had skins and needed to prepare clothing for the cold season.

People eagerly took out their skins to soften them over fire, pounding repeatedly.

Linyan couldn’t do the physical labor herself; she focused on offering ideas.

Once others began experimenting, her role diminished.

Besides teaching children to count and recognize characters, she concentrated on cultivating her mental power.

Changing their situation was too difficult.

From Fatbao, Linyan had learned that mental power was crucial.

Upon reaching level Z, mental power could be used offensively, and she was eager to become stronger.

She sensed her mental power shifting; her aura expanded, allowing her to see farther.

The two young rabbits had grown considerably and only needed a daily supply of wild grass.

As she watched the rabbits, a sudden inspiration struck her.

Since the tribe’s able-bodied youth were busy hunting beasts, perhaps she could help by hunting enough rabbits to see the people through the cold season.