Chapter 8: Weaving Straw Sandals

Without any bowls, Lin Yan gathered several stone pieces with natural indentations, cleaned them thoroughly, and used them as makeshift bowls. The fish soup still carried a faint fishy odor; Lin Yan took a tentative sip and quietly sighed with relief—it wasn’t especially unpleasant, barely palatable.

For the others trying fish soup for the first time, it tasted delicious. Although slightly inferior to roasted meat, the warmth of the soup brought immense comfort to their bodies.

Yezi immediately said, “When I return, I’ll make stone pot soup too. Other kinds of wild meat should be good for boiling as well.”

“That’s right,” Lin Yan replied at once. “Wildya is still young and weak. Eating raw meat and drinking cold water isn’t good for him; it could make him sick. He should eat more cooked food and drink warm water to grow strong.”

Huahong’s eyes brightened. “Is that why you’ve grown so well—because you never ate raw meat or drank cold water?”

Lin Yan nodded slightly. Yezi understood immediately; she had long sensed Lin Yan was different, and now she knew why.

“Alright, from now on, we’ll roast meat and boil soup for Wildya too.”

“Not just soup. We should boil water in stone pots and let it cool before drinking.”

Everyone felt satisfied after this meal. Wildya watched Lin Yan with a constant smile, his sunken, dirty face clearly happy. Lin Yan was pleased too; Wildya was weak and thin, but if properly cared for, he might live longer. The survival rate for children here was terribly low—less than one in ten survived.

Lin Yan’s eyes flickered with a thought. “Mother, since you adults are all busy, I want to play with Wildya and maybe make something together.”

“Make what?” Huahong asked, as the adults were indeed very busy. Everyone capable was out searching for food during the day. Hunting was difficult, and getting meat was not easy, but finding wild fruits to stave off hunger was manageable.

Before Lin Yan could answer, Yezi said, “Sure. Lin Yan is smart; it’s good to take care of Wildya. Huahong, let Mu Shi watch over the two little ones while we go look for food.”

Huahong glanced at Mu Shi and thought it a good idea. She had been staying near home these days, not daring to venture far because Lin Yan was still very young and needed nursing. Mu Shi had been severely injured years ago and barely survived; he couldn’t hunt anymore, so it was perfect for him to stay behind to watch the children.

And so, the plan was set.

The next day, Huahong repeatedly warned Lin Yan not to run off and to obediently follow Mu Shi. Finally, at Lin Yan’s urging and with Yezi growing somewhat impatient waiting, they set off together.

Compared to Huahong’s nagging, Yezi merely glanced at Wildya without saying a word. Mu Shi had always been taciturn and silent during previous encounters, and Lin Yan had assumed that was simply his nature.

Only upon spending real time with him did she realize it was not the case.

When the three of them were together, Mu Shi and Wildya seemed to open up, asking many questions. Their eyes grew increasingly amazed at Lin Yan—a small child born wise beyond her years, extraordinarily intelligent and beyond their understanding. They instinctively felt it was good to follow Lin Yan.

Lin Yan looked at Mu Shi and said, “Let’s gather some cattails.”

Cattails were everywhere nearby, no need to go far, and Mu Shi nodded. “What do you want cattails for?”

Cattails were thin and flexible, commonly found, often plucked to hang meat to dry in the wind.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Lin Yan replied without elaborating. It was just an excuse; she wanted to explore the surroundings. The cattail’s toughness made them perfect for making grass shoes.

Walking barefoot wrapped only in leaves wore out her feet quickly—it was time to make herself a pair of shoes.

Wildya, seldom venturing out, was fascinated by everything. While cutting cattails fiercely with a sharp stone blade, he whispered to Lin Yan, “Cattails are so hard to cut. What do you want them for?”

Lin Yan smiled, looking at his black feet. “Do your feet hurt?”

“Yes,” Wildya admitted.

“I’ll make you a pair of grass shoes too. Then your feet won’t hurt, and you won’t be afraid to walk far.”

“What are shoes?”

“You’ll know once they’re made.”

Wildya immediately perked up, determined to work hard for the shoes.

The three of them walked less than fifty meters and spent the entire morning gathering a large bundle of cattails.

Lin Yan directed them to lay the cattails in the shade to dry until some moisture evaporated before starting work.

Mu Shi observed Lin Yan’s every move silently, thinking she truly was different. No wonder Huahong kept such a close watch on her and was proud of her. Being able to kindle fire and make delicious food—no one in their tribe had ever been this clever in all these years.

Mu Shi quietly sensed she was unlike the rest and would surely become the smartest person in the Sun Tribe someday.

At noon, Lin Yan cooked a pot of meat soup.

Since there was no fresh meat at home, she asked Mu Shi to bring a piece of dried meat. She simmered it in a stone mortar and added lime juice and apple juice to season it. Though the taste was somewhat strange, it was better than plain boiled meat.

Mu Shi and Wildya watched attentively, silently memorizing the process to do the same in the future.

The thirst for new skills was instinctive. In this primitive era, people were endlessly curious about everything new.

After eating, Lin Yan examined the cattails. They had lost some moisture but were not completely dried, making them extremely tough.

Recalling the image of grass shoes and weaving steps from books, she confirmed she hadn’t missed anything and began to focus intensely on wrestling the cattails with her small hands.

No matter how she arranged them, the cattails unraveled quickly.

Lin Yan did not get discouraged. She tried again and again, countless times, her little hands sore and reddened, until finally a rough shape emerged.

As she concentrated on weaving the grass shoes, her spirit was fully absorbed, and her body seemed to break through some kind of limit—but she was too engrossed to notice.

Mu Shi and Wildya squatted beside her, imitating her movements repeatedly.

After more than two hours, Lin Yan held a rudimentary grass shoe in her hand. Though only a preliminary form, the cattails were fixed together as she imagined, unlikely to fall apart easily.

The gaps between the cattails were large, and the shoe looked crooked and uneven. The only redeeming feature was the dense weaving on the sole.

She exhaled deeply. “It’s really not easy. It looks simple, but making it is so hard.”

She stretched her stiff neck, glanced around, and saw that Mu Shi and Wildya’s cattail bundles were still a messy tangle, clearly not getting the hang of it.

Lin Yan took a break and began to explain the steps patiently. After nearly an hour, Mu Shi and Wildya also managed to make simple grass shoes.

Having learned the technique, the three of them eagerly continued working with the cattails.

Lin Yan’s feet were small, and with her experience, she quickly made the second grass shoe.

She couldn’t wait to slip it on and stood up to walk a few steps.

The shoes pinched her feet slightly but were far more durable than leaves.

She looked at the single-layer sole and fell into thought.

Since a single layer was too thin, why not make several layers and bind them tightly with fine cattails? That would make the sole thicker and sturdier.

“Lin Yan, look! My grass shoes are finished!” Wildya’s voice brought her back. Looking closely, she immediately felt like covering her face—she had overlooked a problem.