Chapter 31: Purple Rice and Green Bean Porridge

The chief on the side was quite embarrassed: the Bai Ma they spoke of was his daughter. Bai Ma had been clever and beautiful since childhood, adept at winning his favor. He also knew that Bai Ma was somewhat flirtatious; almost every handsome man in the tribe had been entangled by her at some point. But as the chief’s daughter, did she not even have the right to choose among several men? Moreover, Bai Ma had made considerable contributions to the tribe!

Ahem, Hou Yi cleared his throat and said, "Since Ayu and the Divine Envoy are willing to team up, let’s first send the Divine Envoy’s belongings to Ayu."

The man carrying Mu Tong’s luggage set down his basket on his back, hugged the items along with the wild chicken and rabbit they had caught on the way, and headed toward Ayu’s home with Ayu, Duoji, and Mu Tong. The others stayed behind, explaining to the crowd how the basket was made and proudly showing off the pants they wore...

Basang and Hou Yi were excited: they hadn’t expected the Divine Envoy to come and teach them such useful things. Regardless of whether the food was edible, the basket alone solved a major problem for the women when they went out gathering. With the basket, they could collect far more wild fruits and vegetables each time.

Touching the pants the men wore, they didn’t know what kind of leather or fur it was made from, but it was said to be sweat-absorbent and breathable, much more comfortable than regular leather. Winters in the Twilight Forest were bitterly cold, and they wore various furs then. But come spring and summer, they’d strip them off; otherwise, the leather would be unbearably stifling.

Shama and Aku placed the parcels and the wild game inside Ayu’s house, nodded in farewell, and left.

Ayu, his two brothers, and Mu Tong stood outside the grass hut. Mu Tong inwardly grumbled: Is this really the place she’s supposed to live? The walls were plastered with a thick layer of mud, the roof made from some unknown grass, and a waist-high wooden fence surrounded a medium-sized courtyard. Upon closer inspection, the main door was actually just a grass curtain?

Oh well, it was a primitive tribe—what else could one expect of their houses? Looking at the neighboring homes, this one wasn’t even the worst. The worst grass hut was conical with no windows and no fence in front. Compared to that, Ayu’s home was quite upscale and impressive.

Inside, there was little: a stone table, a stone pot, a stone water jar, two stone bowls, two pairs of chopsticks, and a few pieces of leather piled in a corner. So poor—there wasn’t even a cupboard! And the bed? Mu Tong opened her eyes wide, scanning around: could it be the place lined with a thick layer of dried grass?

Mu Tong eyed the spot suspiciously, glanced at Ayu and his brothers, then shook her head. She had an inflatable mattress anyway, so whether they slept on dried grass or not didn’t matter. Apart from the living room, the grass hut had two small rooms; she’d take one, and the brothers the other.

Mu Tong consciously chose the smaller room, leaving the larger one for the brothers.

After putting away her belongings, Mu Tong told Ayu to set down the basket on his back. "I’ll prepare these two ingredients now. Have the chief send people over to watch."

Mu Tong didn’t want to explain the preparation process to everyone individually, so she came up with this idea. Demonstrating once herself, surely the others would understand. Thinking of the clever men who had learned to weave baskets from her, Mu Tong felt the tribe wasn’t so dull after all.

Ayu gladly accepted the task and soon returned with the chief and the shaman, followed by a long line of curious onlookers.

Mu Tong set the stone pot on the stone stove outside the house, filled a stone bowl with water, and asked Duoji to fetch some dry firewood to light the fire.

Since there were no other ingredients inside, Mu Tong decided to cook a simple dish: kidney bean porridge.

Purple rice was delicious and nutritious but notoriously difficult to cook. Usually, it needed soaking for an hour or two before being pressure-cooked for half an hour. However, Mu Tong had once cooked this purple rice before, and it was remarkably easy to cook—much like ordinary rice on Earth, not the tough purple rice from Earth—and it had a special fragrant aroma.

She washed the purple rice clean, placed it in the stone pot, and once the fire roared, added the washed kidney beans. Then she simmered it on low heat until it became porridge. Asking Ayu for salt, she seasoned it slightly, let it steam a little longer, and soon a fragrant pot of purple rice and kidney bean porridge was ready.

The entire process was simple and easy to learn. The chief and his entourage watched intently, and when Mu Tong brought the pot inside and placed it on the stone table, they all looked puzzled: was it really ready to eat?

Mu Tong ladled a bowl of the porridge and took a bite herself. No one dared eat the kidney beans, as the tribe believed they were poisonous. She exhaled quietly: with natural ingredients, even something as simple as this porridge could be quite delicious.

After a while, seeing that Mu Tong was fine, the shaman Hou Yi bravely took a spoonful. His eyes brightened immediately, and he drank from the stone bowl with gusto, the sound of gulping echoing unusually pleasantly inside the hut. The chief and the crowd behind him broke out in cold sweat: was this really their revered shaman? Why did he look like he hadn’t eaten in ages?

Ayu quickly took the only remaining stone bowl in the house, filled it again, and distributed it to everyone present. After each person tasted a spoonful, they were captivated by the rich aroma and delicious flavor. Unfortunately, there was only one pot, and if everyone had a bowl, it wouldn’t be enough—especially since there were no more bowls...

Thinking of the many purple rice berries outside, their eyes lit up again. Sure enough, after finishing one bowl, the shaman waved his hand and declared: once the hunting party returned tonight, everyone would celebrate on the plaza in front of the altar—celebrating the alliance between Ayu and the Divine Envoy!

The crowd erupted in cheers. Mu Tong, however, sighed in disbelief: it was just a local official staying in a villager’s home and teaming up with someone—was that really worth celebrating? She suspected the shaman was simply greedy, eager to taste a delicacy he had never tried before.

Though simple, the purple rice and kidney bean porridge was indeed tasty. On one hand, the ingredients were good; on the other, the people had never tasted such food before, so naturally, they found it exquisite.

The crowd gathered with Ayu and Mu Tong at the plaza before the altar. The hunting team had just returned, laden with game. Hearing the villagers recount stories of the Divine Envoy, and seeing Ayu now clean and tidy alongside Mu Tong, who was strikingly different from the tribe’s women, many single men were green with envy.

But envy was futile—after all, they hadn’t been home at the time. And Ayu had been lucky to stay behind today, fixing his broken door and weaving a grass curtain, something that had unexpectedly brought him good fortune!

The men scrutinized Mu Tong with their eyes, especially the bachelors. Seeing her as eye-catching and beautiful as a purple queen flower, their envy and jealousy toward Ayu only deepened.