In the early spring of September, at the intersection of the eastern end of the Tianshan Mountains in Xinjiang and the northwest of the Pamir Plateau, lies a lush green grassland, where the sprawling Tianshan Mountains come to an end. Several streams of water from the melting snow and glaciers of the Tianshan Mountains converge here to form dozens of lakes on this relatively small grassland.

Before the summer arrives, millions of wild yaks migrate from the glacial tundra through this area, trampling the land and leaving it barren. Only during the early days of spring, before the arrival of the summer, do merchants choose to travel through this route. Nowadays, it is a paradise for various small animals.

I lay quietly in the grass without moving, regulating my breathing lightly. Next to me, a large cloth bag was propped up against a fist-sized hole, and the entire mouth of the bag was camouflaged with green grass. The mouth of the two-foot-square bag narrowed as it went inside, making it impossible for any rodents to escape once they enter.

Kuz, my companion, was responsible for filling in the rest of the holes with a shovel. Only experienced hunters can successfully fill in all the holes, and missing even one would make it impossible to catch any rodents. After filling up the nearby holes, Kuz lit a pile of cow dung that he had prepared and let the flames grow until they were strong enough. When the time was right, he poured a pile of white crumbs into the fire. Instantly, a large amount of thick black smoke mixed with pungent herbal aroma from the wolf dung burned and rose up.

Once the wolf dung was fully burnt, Kuz covered the fire and the mouse holes with a wet linen blanket. Smiling at me, he whispered, "Jiajia, hold the bag properly and don't let it tilt!"

"Got it!" I answered excitedly in a low voice. Even though the soul within my body is no longer young, when my small body lies in the grass, I still become very excited and even nervous, afraid that those hare-sized rodents will suddenly pounce out and I won't be able to hold the bag properly.

Thick smoke poured into the mouse hole, and wisps of smoke rose from all around the grassland. Without much time to think, I heard a "swoosh" sound, and a yellowish-brown small creature suddenly appeared, crushing the green grass at the entrance of the mouse hole, and diving into the bag without changing direction.

Shortly after, two more creatures burst out in quick succession. I tightly held the mouth of the bag with both hands, not daring to be distracted. The guinea pigs, which were the size of a rabbit, dashed back and forth in the bag. Fortunately, Kuz had already fixed the bag firmly to the ground with a wooden wedge to prevent any mishaps. I used a wooden stick to fiercely beat the guinea pigs that were still restless and trying to find a way out, and made them obedient.

As I squatted by the trap, I thought about my young age of only seven. In the past, this was a happy time of crying and pulling my mother's clothes, refusing to go to school. But now, I had to use all my efforts and the most serious attitude to work hard for a meal, enduring the burning pain in my body, and trying to integrate into this team with all my heart, to understand this mysterious magical world.

I think I'm still afraid of death, so I have been trying to live carefully. During this period, I met some good people, such as Teacher Kuru, Kuz, Fred, Butler Leopas, and other members of the caravan, who were all very friendly.

Not only did Old Kuru save me, but he also told me the path I should take in the future. His words filled me with hope and courage. I can't say for sure whether this kind of life is lucky or unlucky for me.

Kuz's shouting voice came from a distance, pulling me back from my thoughts. "Jika, a guinea pig has escaped!"

I hastily discarded the wooden stick in my hand and straightened the crooked cloth bag. At this point, about ten guinea pigs had already run into the bag, while a few fish that had slipped through the net rushed out of the opening on the other side of the bag and frolicked on the grass. They leaped three to four meters in a single bound, only to disappear into the vast grassland after a few jumps.

It appears that the burrow Kuz found belongs to a large family of guinea pigs. Guinea pigs continued to emerge from the tunnel, and some of them stumbled out as if they were drunk, collapsing at the entrance of the burrow. Their furry bodies stretched out as if they had been pulled straight, and their hind legs kicked weakly twice before their bodies began to convulse. These guinea pigs were suffocated and it seemed impossible for them to crawl out of the burrow alive.

Kuz rushed over with an iron rod and bent the head of the rod. He used it to hook the suffocated guinea pigs out of the burrow. His furry face was smoked black, with only a pair of bright eyes, and when he grinned, he revealed the two sharp canine teeth unique to the wolf-tribe beasts.

Our hunt was a great success, and we caught 27 guinea pigs, each one as big as a wild rabbit. We tied the cloth bag to a long stick and carried it back to the campsite, with one person in front and the other in the back. On the way back, Kuz and I discussed inviting the people at the campsite to eat stewed meat, and Kuz readily agreed.

Initially, I had planned to deep-fry the guinea pigs, but I didn't expect to catch so many, and the oil I had prepared was not enough. I had to change the menu on the spot and make a simple stew instead. It is still early spring, and unlike in winter, any meat that we can't finish eating can be frozen.

In this season, fresh meat can only be stored for a couple of days, otherwise it may spoil. It would be better to invite everyone to eat together. From a distance, we could see Old Kururu sitting on a dirt mound next to the campsite. His face, full of wrinkles, had an indescribable aroma as he sat quietly, with a rough, dried tobacco leaf in his mouth. However, this journey was very long, and Old Kururu's stock was not plentiful. This type of tobacco leaf, said to have a slightly sour taste like seaberry fruit, could only be grown on the Pai Plateau. Presumably, there was no need to preserve the tobacco leaves that they had been reluctant to smoke until they got home.

When Kururu saw us return safely, he walked slowly down the mound, and was surprised to see the game in the bag. "You guys are lucky to have caught so much!" he exclaimed. "For dinner tonight, Jijia and I would like to treat everyone in the caravan to a good meal. We want them to taste Jijia's signature dish. What do you think, Grandfather?" Kuz approached Old Kururu, behaving like a young quail, carefully asking for permission.

The customs of the Orc tribe are very different from those of the Human race. Although Kuz had been living in this caravan for three years, he still had the caution towards humans that was ingrained in him from his tribe. This was something that was not easily changed.

Old Kururu was somewhat surprised and looked at me with a sense of satisfaction. He had been trying hard to integrate Kuz into human society. I knew that Old Kururu had always wanted the young Kuz to travel to the central city of the Human race on the mainland, but if Kuz always had a sense of rejection, then this plan would be endlessly delayed.

Every Orc who aspires to be a tribal leader needs to be forward-looking, but this requires experience and exposure. However, Old Kururu was still hesitant. After a moment of silence, he raised his head and asked Kuz, "Since you want to treat everyone in the caravan to stewed meat, do you know how many people are in the caravan? Do you think today's catch is enough for everyone? Have you considered how much food you need to make?" "Ah! Yes! Jijia, there are so many people. Our guinea pig is so small, it seems like it's not enough!" Kuz was dumbfounded. For a young Orc of only 12 years old, a math problem was a bit difficult.

Following the days of studying herbalism with Old Kurru, I have become well acquainted with the number of people in our caravan. In truth, this vast caravan is comprised of three separate and independent groups. The smallest of these groups consists of two adventuring parties, comprising a mere 27 individuals. They always travel at the forefront of the caravan and only return to the main group during resupplying.

The Thunder Rhino group, led by steward Leyipas, is the true heart of the caravan. Its 203 members, along with the 70 enormous Thunder Rhinos, form the bulk of the caravan. Trailing closely behind are the 13 magic-weave ironclad horse-drawn carriages of the Green Empire Dance Troupe, which accompanies our caravan but is considerably larger than our own. However, they have their own cooks, and their meals are much more lavish than ours. I once caught a glimpse of a young woman dressed in white sitting beside one of the carriages, her slender, milky-white legs dangling playfully as she teased a small cow traveling alongside. Her tinkling laughter carried far and wide.

Standing up, I address the group, "Our party consists of over 200 individuals. As for dinner, we may require 200 loaves of black bread. However, this is not our concern, as long as we can prepare enough stew to feed everyone. Today's haul only yielded 27 pig-rats, which is hardly sufficient. Yesterday, Kuz managed to snare seven mountain chickens, which are still stashed in our tent. We also managed to gather over 50 mountain chicken eggs, and I was thinking of adding some noodles and pork chops to the stew..."、

"Vermicelli...? Are you referring to the hard rope made from sweet potatoes you prepared a few days ago?" Kuz clearly disapproved of the vermicelli I made, as he detested sweet potatoes. These plants were considered only fit for the lowest slaves even among the orc tribe.

Obviously concerned about eating the vermicelli made from sweet potatoes, Kuz quickly suggested, "Perhaps it would taste better if we added some tree rice. I can ask Lord Leyipas for a bag of it. Alternatively, there's plenty of wild root grass growing in the fields that we could boil and eat."

Eager to enjoy a fake pork stew with vermicelli, I hugged Kuz and whispered, "Brother Beast, do you not trust me?"

Because of my small stature, even when standing on tiptoe, I could only hug Kuz, who was a head taller than me with a sunken chest and a tucked-in belly. Kuz blinked awkwardly and said to me, "When it comes time to serve the meat, make sure to give me plenty."

"Don't worry, when the time comes, you can eat to your heart's content. I guarantee it!" I patted my chest and reassured him.

On the eastern edge of the camp, next to the lake, there was a row of large stoves made from big rocks, with ten large iron pots on top. Each iron pot had a diameter of more than two meters, with six pots belonging to the dance troupe and four pots to the caravan.

The cooks in the dance troupe had to stand on the stove edge and use a shovel-like iron spoon to stir-fry the food. In contrast, the caravan's chefs had it much easier. They ate black bread every day and only needed to boil water in the pot, add some dried vegetables and salt, and occasionally some dried meat. This dish was called dried vegetable soup.

At that time, I thought this dish was more like a salted Chinese herbal soup, difficult to drink. Unless I was starving, I would prefer to eat black bread and drink plain water.

Kuz never showed any pickiness in his food choices. He would relish even a bowl of soup with dried vegetables. Later, when Old Kurulu saw that I couldn't stomach the dried vegetable soup, he occasionally took Kuz out to hunt and brought back some fresh meat for me to eat.

Upon hearing my and Kuz's request, the steward Leipas didn't say anything and simply took us to the stove. He reached out and grabbed a ladle taller than me and asked, "Ji Jia, you said you wanted to make a meal for everyone. If you can lift this ladle and promise not to drop it in the pot, then I will grant your request."

As I looked closely at the huge ladle, I realized that the oiled wooden handle, which had become shiny over time, was almost as thick as my arm. I widened my eyes, tightened my grip on the ladle, took a deep breath, and used all my strength, but still couldn't lift the heavy ladle.

Apart from the cook in the dance troupe and the cooks in the caravan, many bored onlookers had gathered around the stove. The caravan had set up camp early in order to rest by the lake and prepare for entering the Paigu Plateau. It was afternoon, and people in the caravan were taking advantage of the rare good weather to sunbathe outside their tents. When they saw people gathering by the lake, they came over to take a look.

"Haha, it's little Ji Jia. Be careful not to hurt your toes with that ladle."

"Hey, who does that kid belong to? Is he still breastfeeding? How could Lord Leipas let him lift such a heavy ladle?"

The crowd buzzed with discussion, and when they saw that I couldn't lift the ladle, they all laughed together. However, some people who knew the situation explained that it was the caravan's doctor, Old Kurulu, who brought two children and wanted to make a good meal for everyone. Then the crowd began to discuss what to eat for dinner tonight.

I am somewhat embarrassed. I never thought that a cooking shovel could be so large and heavy. I believe it must weigh more than 30 kilograms. Even in my prime, it would not have been easy for me to pick up such a large shovel and stir fry with it.

"Perhaps I can..." I hesitated, wondering whether to ask for help.

At this moment, my companion Kuz reached out and grabbed the wooden handle with one hand. He lifted the shovel as easily as he would a flyswatter and asked me with a foolish grin, "Jiajia, is this shovel heavy?"

"Ah! Az, you're really strong." I was dumbfounded and amazed.