Werebeast Gongs CH 121 Unexpectedly Hitting The Jackpot
Lei Jin wasn’t the type to dwell on things. Though this particular matter troubled him deeply, he set it aside after a couple of days. What was meant to come would come. Wracking his brain now wouldn’t magically undo what he’d already eaten. However, Mingya, the instigator of the whole affair, wasn’t having such an easy time. Lei Jin still allowed him close, even permitted his touch. But every time things got heated, Lei Jin would kick him off the bed. After a few rounds of this, Mingya was thoroughly miserable, his mouth lined with painful blisters that forced him to eat slowly and carefully.
Roger, seeing this, felt sorry for him. At first, he thought Mingya might be suffering from spring dryness and pondered what cooling foods could help. Later, he vaguely learned the real reason from Xiya and was both amused and exasperated. He decided to let them sort it out themselves. Watching their lively daily interactions made ordinary days feel much more vibrant.
Roger sat by the window. Opposite him under the eaves, two newly returned swallows were busily gathering grass to build their nest, chirping happily away. Though Mingya was his own flesh and blood, Roger couldn’t understand their language. Seeing Lei Jin bustling about, living life with such relish, Roger felt he should be doing something too. He smiled, shook his head, spread a piece of bark paper on the table, and began sketching with a charcoal stick.
Lei Jin was constantly harping in his ear: since land had been allocated to everyone, shouldn’t they build some basic irrigation systems? It would make watering much easier. The implication was clear: help me with this. Lei Jin seemed more driven by the day, not even sparing Roger himself. But honestly, the feeling wasn’t bad.
The weather was turning warm. Lei Jin rolled up his sleeves and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The crude farming tools and lack of animal labor made the work especially exhausting. The plot of land allocated outside the tribe had already been plowed and sown with wheat by An Sen, Xiya, and the others.
Lei Jin wanted to cultivate the plot near the house himself. The area close to the stream was reserved for rice; corn and beans would be planted after the wheat harvest. For now, he’d only scattered some experimental corn kernels in a corner. The rest he planted with vegetables – though the variety was pitifully small: just potatoes, scallions, and peppers. The onions he’d found last year had been dug up and eaten. Roger had later gone back a few times and collected some seeds, but even adding those, they only had four types, far from his goal. Perhaps he could venture deeper into the forest; surely there were more edible greens to be found.
Grapes slept soundly on his little bed in the shade of the wall corner, his little face flushed, even drooling a bit. To Lei Jin, his son looked utterly adorable just like that.
“Lei Jin, water.” Mingya came running out from the house carrying a large jar. Water splashed out as he ran, leaving a sparkling trail in the sunlight.
The water was lukewarm, perfect for drinking. Lei Jin tilted his head back and gulped down nearly half the jar. Wiping his mouth, he looked down at Mingya crouched at his feet, gazing up at him like a forlorn puppy. Amused, Lei Jin lifted Mingya’s chin. “Open up, let me see. Still hurts?”
“Hurts,” Mingya mumbled obediently, mouth wide open. The crucial point was Lei Jin wouldn’t let him touch him, yet he saw Lei Jin being intimate with his elder brothers right in front of him. At night, that part ached so much he couldn’t sleep.
“Pain will make you remember the lesson. Try any tricks next time, see how I deal with you.” Lei Jin pulled Mingya up, using the trees for cover. He ruffled Mingya’s hair and pressed a light, comforting kiss to his lips.
“Mingya will be obedient,” Mingya mumbled his pledge of loyalty, then wrapped his arms tightly around Lei Jin, pulling him flush against his body. He captured Lei Jin’s lips, taking charge with a fervent, unskilled, yet intensely direct kiss. As for Lei Jin’s earlier bullying, it all vanished like smoke in the wind, leaving no trace.
Just as Mingya, losing control, was about to go further, Grapes let out a little “wah” sound and woke up. Lei Jin glanced over Mingya’s shoulder and met his son’s bright, wide eyes. Grapes was wriggling his arms and legs excitedly, looking utterly fascinated. Lei Jin’s face immediately darkened. Instinctively, he shoved Mingya, who had just pulled his collar aside and was nibbling on his neck, away from him. “Go watch the baby,” he ordered sharply, conveniently ignoring who had initiated the whole thing.
Caught off guard, Mingya stumbled back a step, momentarily dazed. Only when Lei Jin’s fist seemed poised to swing did he snap back to reality. He hurriedly went to pick up Grapes. As he turned his back to Lei Jin, a flicker of grievance crossed his face. He whispered to the baby, “Baby, your timing is just awful. Your poor youngest Dad is so pitiful.”
Lei Jin shot him a glare, thinking he was the truly pitiful one here. He stretched his limbs. Sure, being on the bottom was more pleasurable and less tiring, but handling three of them simultaneously was exhausting! No one sympathized; they just told him to relax, which only made things easier for them. Maybe next time he’d make them try being on the bottom. Hmm… starting with the little guy seemed like an excellent idea.
Standing under the blazing sun, Mingya suddenly shivered. Why did Lei Jin’s gaze on his back feel so chilling? Had he accidentally done something wrong again? Was he going to be relegated to just watching once more?
“Such heavy rain! Came down without warning!” Lei Jin rushed into the house, clutching a small leather bundle – little clothes for Grapes that he’d asked Su Rui to make. The weather was warming, Grapes was learning to roll over, and couldn’t stay swaddled forever. Outside, the rain poured down in sheets, turning midday almost as dark as night. He’d heard the rainy season was coming for days, but hadn’t expected such a dramatic entrance.
“It’s been overcast for days. You went out without even a rain cape, let alone a bamboo hat,” Moya chided gently, pulling him to sit down. He took a cloth and began drying Lei Jin’s dripping hair. This man always claimed to be older than them, yet he couldn’t take care of himself at all.
“Who carries a heavy rain cape around town for no reason?” Lei Jin retorted. It was thick and cumbersome, totally ruining his usual cool image. The bamboo hat was rejected for the same reason. It was just rain, not bullets. What man was afraid of a little water? Image came first, obviously.
A flicker of amusement crossed Moya’s eyes. He was speechless. Lei Jin’s logic was always so forcefully illogical that it left no room for rebuttal.
“The work in the fields is finally done for now,” Lei Jin said, looking out at the rain-lashed courtyard. Raindrops splashed like blossoms on the bluestone slabs outside the door. Beneath the corner of the wall, the branches of the plants Roger had cultivated were dark, dotted with tender green buds.
After nearly a month of hard work, everything that needed planting was finally in the ground. They’d made it in time for the season, so he could relax. This rain had come at just the right moment.
The large coarse pottery jar they used to store rice and flour had developed a big crack in the bottom. An Luo had gone to the tribe’s pottery kiln to get a new one today and was about to throw the old one out. Lei Jin quickly stopped him. He thought it would be perfect for growing bean sprouts. They hadn’t had fresh greens all winter. Wild vegetables on the mountains were just barely peeking through; it would be a while before they could be properly harvested. Besides the beans used for tofu, they still had some left, but during the lean spring season, who dared use precious beans for mere side dishes? They had to be saved for emergencies.
Now, with bean sprouts, he wouldn’t have to worry! They could be tossed in salads, stir-fried with meat, or quick-blanched. Lei Jin happily soaked the beans, marveling at how much he’d missed even simple bean sprouts.
Plump beans were naturally saved for seeds. Since it was raining and there was nothing else to do, he decided to make a large batch. He made some tofu too. The cracked pottery jar was perfect for growing bean sprouts; just water them diligently for a few days – not much trouble. He also found some unused pots, jars, and broken basins lying around the house. Filling them with sandy soil, he buried beans in them and placed them under the eaves, waiting for the green bean sprouts to grow.
Despite the rain, their house was rarely empty. Roger worked on his sketches at home, revising them repeatedly. He’d also braved the rain to make numerous trips to the fields. Finally, he finished the irrigation canal plans. An Bu and the tribe’s elders were sensible; they knew they couldn’t rely solely on the heavens. Though rainfall was plentiful, it didn’t fall according to people's wishes. Building canals to divert river water was an excellent solution. Sometimes, discussions got so lively they ended up staying for meals. It wasn’t a time of food shortage anymore, so hosts were happy to feed guests. Sometimes, young females would drop by to visit. Seeing the chief and elders, they showed respect but still chatted and laughed without much reserve. Consequently, mealtimes sometimes gathered a whole houseful of people, almost as if they were there specifically for a free meal.
Though Lei Jin’s cooking was delicious, he had no intention of cooking every single meal. So, as long as Xiya and Moya were home, they handled most of the three daily meals. But with so many people now, he couldn’t leave it all to them. Lei Jin pitched in frequently. For the first few days, he served generous platters of meat and large bowls of vegetables. The meat didn’t garner much attention, but the sight of fresh greens made everyone’s eyes gleam – they’d been starved for them all winter. Hearing Lei Jin’s methods were simple, many said they’d try them come autumn. Right now, it wasn’t possible; their beans were nearly gone. However, this only fueled more curiosity. People came in waves, one group after another. Lei Jin felt like charging admission at the door. It wasn’t that he begrudged the food; it was just the sheer hassle of cooking for so many.
Finally, Lei Jin hit upon a brilliant idea. He cut large chunks of meat, marinated them overnight with oil, salt, scallions, and soy sauce. The next day, he filled half a wok with oil in the kitchen. Whoever wanted to eat, and however much they wanted, had to fry it themselves. They merely provided a pot of tofu soup and a few plates of bean sprouts. Everyone found it amusing and enjoyed themselves thoroughly.
The first heavy spring rain came and went intermittently. Amidst the communal eating and drinking, over half a month slipped by.
Afterwards, the tribespeople seemed to feel a bit embarrassed. Many brought their own meat as gifts, more than they had consumed. Consequently, their own cellar became overflowing with meat. It wasn’t winter anymore; the meat would spoil if kept too long. Just as they were fretting over the surplus, the tribe’s annual grand fair was fast approaching. Xiya suggested they simply salt and cure it to sell at the fair. After all, people from every tribe needed to eat.
Lei Jin, naturally fond of excitement, didn’t want to miss such a rare tribal gathering. Besides, Jing Ping and Hao Chen were also coming. By all accounts, he should be happy. But one thing prevented him from feeling truly joyful: lately, the mere sight of greasy food made him nauseous.
Could he really be this unlucky? A one-time shot and he’d hit the jackpot? Lei Jin conveniently forgot that it hadn’t been just once, but three times in a row.