In the past, on every thunderstorm night, Song Xu would pile blankets and pillows into a small mountain and spend the night pressing herself beneath that little mountain.

This time, she was still pressing herself beneath a “little mountain,” only this time the little mountain was not soft blankets and pillows, but a heavy, solid snake tail.

She arched Wumu’s tail into a lump, and when the thunder eased a little and she dared to poke her head out, she was almost already pressed flat into a pancake by that big tail.

The damp pancake perked up its ears to listen to the movement outside, then stuck out more than half its body from beneath the snake tail, reaching out to rub herself, trying to knead her deflated self back into an inflatable version.

After adjusting to the dim environment, Song Xu saw a blurry outline in front of her, and at the same time her paws felt around and touched cool, smooth hair.

This was of course not hers, but the big snake’s. His upper body was bent and lying nearby; judging by this posture, she seemed to be right near his mouth now.

Song Xu could not help but sigh—snake-snake’s temper was really too good. Just now she had been frightened out of her wits and seemed to have randomly clawed at his tail, pushing and shifting it about, yet he had lain there like he was dead, letting her move him around however she wanted.

Just as she finished praising his good temper, Wumu opened his eyes in the darkness. Two little red light bulbs glowed in the dark, and along with a dangerous hissing sound made the squirrel’s fur stand on end. Fortunately, he looked at her for a while and had no intention of having a late-night snack. He merely slid his body and changed to another sleeping position.

Thunder boomed again outside. Song Xu no longer cared about the squirrel’s instinctive fear of snakes and in one swift motion jumped into the long tail Wumu had coiled up.

This time his tail formed a circle, and hiding in the middle felt even safer.

In her sleep, Song Xu felt as if she were a ball—one moment being pressed flat by something heavy, the next being rolled and kneaded by a rolling pin. When she woke up, she discovered that one hind paw and her tail were still pinned beneath the snake’s tail, and that the place she was lying had shifted from the corner where she fell asleep to right beside the stone wall.

Last night, she had probably been treated by this male snake demi-beastman as a little pebble for bracing his tail, rolled and kneaded along as his tail moved while he slept.

Outside, the sun was already high in the sky. Bright light streamed into the stone cave through various cracks, making the cave, usually somewhat dim, look brighter by several degrees.

Aside from a few broken branches scattered on the ground, the raging wind and rain of last night had left no other traces.

After a night of heavy rain, the forest looked several shades greener. The moss on the ground had drunk its fill of water, and all the greens in the forest were translucent and bright in the sunlight, tender and dripping with freshness.

And she… Song Xu looked at the fur on her body, now covered in mud and no longer sleek—she had basically turned into a mud squirrel.

Unable to bear it, she changed into her beastman form, but even the animal-hide clothing formed from her fur no longer had its usual glossy beauty.

Since arriving in this world, she had not bathed even once. The beastmen here were not accustomed to bathing, just like how the cats and dogs at home would not bathe every day either—they had their own set of methods for caring for their fur that differed from humans’.

Song Xu grimaced as she peeled off the clumps of dried mud stuck to her body: But I really can’t not wash right now!

These past few days, whenever she drank water, she collected it from a crack between rocks in the forest. There was a thin trickle of water there; collecting for a while would yield a handful. But obviously, such a small stream was very inconvenient for washing a squirrel of her size. She needed to find a larger water source to serve as a fixed bathing spot.

Having lived nearby for several days, Song Xu was no longer as afraid of this forest as she had been at the beginning. She climbed to the tops of tall trees to look for places that might have water sources.

Perhaps relying on her usual good luck, or on an animal’s innate keen sense for water, she discovered a sizable wetland to the south of the giant stone cave.

The wetland was not close to the giant stone cave. By the time Song Xu reached the area, it was already afternoon.

This wetland looked like one of the shared drinking spots for all kinds of animals in the forest. Along the muddy shore where large patches of aquatic plants grew, there were traces of trampling by animals, with churned-up silt in disarray.

In puddles left by who-knew-what animal’s footprints, there were also clusters of black tadpoles that had just grown hind legs. Before long, they would become four-legged and crawl ashore, evolving into noisy summer night singers, and begin performing the croak-croak song.

Song Xu found a clean spot, scooped up soft water plants swaying in the water, rolled them into a ball, and used them to wipe the mud off her body. Rolling around wet on the ground all night meant wiping was not enough, she had to soak in the water to wash.

Strangely enough, bathing in the wild while in beastman form always felt a bit embarrassing, but washing as a squirrel beast form came with absolutely no psychological pressure at all.

While she was scrubbing her tail and little paws, several long-legged water birds flew over to catch fish nearby. Some were entirely snow-white with long beaks, while others had white necks and black backs. Song Xu stretched her neck to see whether they had any success.

Their long beaks were like tongs in the water, easily clamping up small fish. Toward the center of the wetland, farther from the shore, the water was deeper. On the surface, the silver backs of small schools of fish flashed past, making Song Xu really want to eat some grilled fish.

Because of the splashing sounds she made while washing her feet by the water plants, some curious little fish also swam over and hid among the weeds. Song Xu grew restless, tossed aside the water plants she had been using to scrub herself, and suddenly pounced forward to chase the fish.

With her head topped by green algae, she threw a palm-length small fish onto the shore.

Watching its tail thrash wildly, Song Xu’s excitement slowly cooled. Ah, she had caught a fish, but how was she supposed to eat it? Eat it raw?

She had freeloaded a meal at this wetland and also developed some new recipes. In the mythological legends of her homeland, there was the story of Shennong tasting a hundred herbs. What she was doing now was more or less the same, and she could even understand the sentiments once expressed by ancient ancestors when facing nature: Eat! If you’re hungry, you can eat anything!

This lush, breezy wetland was much livelier than the forest, because there was a constant stream of small animals coming to visit. Various kinds of birds that lived by the water—Song Xu could not recognize them, but she had already seen several large bird nests in the low-hanging bushes along the wetland.

Song Xu: Want to eat bird eggs.

Here she also saw, for the first time, a relatively large animal—a giant lizard lying completely motionless. By visual estimate it was over a meter long. More than half its body was buried in mud, almost blending into the same color as the ground.

At first, Song Xu had not noticed it at all. It was only when a rhinoceros strolled over to the wetland to drink water and startled it that Song Xu realized there had been a giant lizard hiding there.

She did not like lizards as much as snakes, but she still had a certain amount of related knowledge. However, she could not identify the species of the giant lizard in front of her.

After looking at the giant lizard, Song Xu looked again at the rhinoceros drinking water… It had a horn on its head, so it should be a rhinoceros, right?

She knew even less about rhinoceroses. With such a huge body and thick folds of skin, it looked like something not to be messed with. She wondered whether the big snake normally ate rhinoceroses.

Besides the rhinoceros, there were also deer with long spiral horns coming to drink water… or maybe antelope or something else. Song Xu still could not tell them apart very well.

She watched them licking water by the shore and started pondering again—did the big snake eat this kind of animal? If he did, those two horns looked sharp; would they easily scratch his stomach?

After completely drying her fur by the water’s edge and patting it to make it fluffy, Song Xu finally decided to end her nature documentary viewing and hurry back before nightfall.

On the way back, Song Xu was attracted by a fallen dead tree in the forest.

The trunk was smooth and slick, and several main branches were sturdy enough. Song Xu walked a circle around the dead tree and felt that it would be very suitable to place inside the big snake’s cave as a branch for him to play with. His cave was empty and had nothing in it; it really lacked some enrichment items to improve the living environment.

Song Xu struggled to drag this big branch back. Fortunately, the place where the dead tree had fallen was not far from the stone cave. Even so, by the time she got back, she was already panting from exhaustion.

How to stuff the whole branch into the cave became a new problem. The cave entrance was not big enough, and the size of the branch exceeded the opening. Song Xu wrestled with it for a long time, and the branch ended up directly stuck in the entrance—unable to go in and unable to come out.

Song Xu glanced somewhat guiltily into the cave. She seemed to have blocked the big snake’s door.

Wumu woke up from his sleep and also noticed the big branch blocking the cave entrance. Song Xu slipped to the side and saw him look at the branch, then wrap it with his long tail and drag it inward. The stuck trunk immediately made cracking sounds, and most of the tree was pulled into the cave.

Compared to Song Xu using all her strength, Wumu was simply doing it with ease. His strength was frighteningly great.

The small difficulty was solved. Song Xu looked at Wumu wrapping the branch with his tail and thought to herself that, as expected, snake-snake would definitely like branches.

As for whether Wumu really liked branches—after his long tail coiled around the trunk, he applied a little force, and all the branches made cracking sounds at once. The entwined snake tail loosened, and such a big tree had turned into section after section of branches. Some parts were even crushed to pieces, scattering wood chips all over the ground.

Song Xu: Mm… now it’s suitable to be used as firewood, no need to chop.

After grinding the tree into pieces, Wumu lost interest in it and swayed his snake tail as he left the stone cave.

Seeing her roommate leave behind a floor full of trash and walk off without looking back, Song Xu could only dutifully clean up the scattered broken branches. She kicked them into a corner with her foot so they would not be in the way.

In the corner was a gray, dusty thing. At first, Song Xu thought it was a rock. When she accidentally kicked it and found it was soft, she curiously lifted it up to take a look and suddenly cried out, “Ah!”

It was actually a rough animal-hide bag. Because it had been left there for so long and covered with a thick layer of dust, Song Xu had mistaken it for a stone.

Dragging the bag into a brighter spot, Song Xu began rummaging through it with the excitement of opening a treasure chest.

Inside were a big stone bowl, a knife made from beast teeth, small pieces of hide whose purpose she did not know, a large chunk of white crystalline stone, and, to Song Xu’s greatest delight, two pieces of black flint! Tools for making fire!

Song Xu held the two pieces of flint and danced with wild joy: “Ahhh I can eat cooked food now ahhh!!!”

She looked to one side at the branches and wood chips. Wasn’t this perfect? Even the firewood was already prepared.