“The sun is shining from the south, which means if we head south, we’ll be able to return to the Ming!”

The uncle muttered to himself, and at last a relaxed smile appeared on his face.

“Kid, be my guide, will you? Let’s head out of the mountains together!”

His goal achieved, Brian Clark gladly agreed.

After resting for a while, his strength returned. Since they were about to set off, some preparations were in order. Brian Clark got up and walked over to the wild boar. He examined it carefully and found a wound on its shoulder, but it had already healed.

This creature must have encountered a hunter before—maybe the hunter was killed by the boar, and that broken spear is proof! If it hadn’t tasted human flesh, why would this beast go mad and attack him?

“Uncle, lend me your dagger,” Brian Clark said through gritted teeth.

The burly man didn’t hesitate and tossed him the meat-cutting dagger. Brian Clark aimed for the relatively soft belly, cut off two large pieces of boar hide, then split them in half, making four pieces.

He gave the two larger pieces to the man, then wrapped the remaining two around his own feet. Using the dagger, he poked a few holes, then chopped off a vine, peeled off the skin, split it into thin strips, threaded them through the holes like shoelaces, and tied them together haphazardly.

Looking at the “leather shoes” he’d made himself, Brian Clark couldn’t help but laugh and cry—these were probably the ugliest shoes ever. But it didn’t matter; with a layer of boar hide for protection, his feet wouldn’t get blistered.

He looked around again and suddenly noticed a clump of wild grass by the pool, over a foot tall, not very conspicuous. On closer inspection, its stem was slightly square, leaves grew in pairs at the joints, resembling whorled compound leaves but larger, with fine serrations and a whitish, veined underside. The stem ended in a spike, one or two inches long, with small pale purple flowers, each spike bearing four tiny seeds... Brian Clark tried hard to recall—when he was young, his grandfather used to take him into the mountains to gather herbs to pay for his schooling.

Back then, his grandfather had taught him a lot about medicinal herbs—this was self-heal!

Applying its juice to wounds could quickly stop bleeding, and it also had the effect of clearing heat and improving eyesight.

Noticing the man’s wound, Brian Clark walked over, picked a few stalks of self-heal, found a clean stone, placed the herbs on it, and crushed them with another stone.

Then he brought the green juice to the man.

“Put this on—it’ll stop the bleeding!”

The man didn’t accept it right away. Instead, he pinched some of the juice with his fingers, brought it to his nose and sniffed, then slowly said, “Self-heal? You know about medicinal herbs?”

Brian Clark grinned but said nothing.

The man became interested. He’d thought all mountain kids were fools, but this boy could not only find his way but also recognize herbs—truly rare!

“Kid, have you ever been to school?” As soon as he said it, the man shook his head at himself. That was a silly question—how could a kid who’d lived in the mountains all his life, not even knowing what year it was outside, have gone to school?

But to his surprise, the boy actually picked up a branch and started writing on the ground!

“At the beginning of man, their nature is good...”

The man muttered as he read, a look of astonishment on his face—this kid really could read and write!

What the man didn’t know was that Brian Clark was also watching him! This guy was skilled and, by the looks of it, literate too. In the Hongwu era, he’d be considered both a scholar and a warrior!

He was definitely not an ordinary person!

Brian Clark was in urgent need of an identity and a place to settle down.

He knew very well that the Hongwu era was a time of the strictest laws, especially the household registration system, which was rigorously enforced. Someone like him, with no identity and no clear origin, could easily be classified as a lowborn and entered into the register of outcasts. If that happened, he’d never be able to rise again for generations—it would be better to die than to drag down his descendants!

There wasn’t much Brian Clark could do. He hoped to attract the man’s attention. After showing off his writing skills, Brian Clark pushed the remaining embers aside, warming the ground. He spread a thick layer of pine needles over it, and the rising heat made it warm and cozy—enough to dispel the cold and damp of the forest.

After making the “bed,” Brian Clark sat to one side and said to the man, “I’ll take the first watch, uncle. You sleep first!”

The man was even more surprised—this kid really knew how to handle things.

He looked Brian Clark up and down. The boy looked about twelve or thirteen, with delicate features, but he wasn’t short—especially his sturdy frame, broad back, muscular belly, and mantis-like legs! A fine specimen—if he grew to over six feet, he might become a general of the Han, serving at the imperial court, far better than someone like him who risked his life every day.

What a pity! He’s not my son! And I don’t have a son!

A sudden pain struck the man’s heart. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, so he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. The rising heat made his whole body warm and comfortable. For months, he hadn’t felt this good... For someone like him, even asleep, he’d keep one eye open.

After about a quarter of an hour, a faint smell of smoke drifted into his nose. The man slowly opened his eyes and saw Brian Clark holding a handful of mugwort, placing it on the embers. The burning mugwort gave off a scent that drove away mosquitoes and also masked their scent, preventing wild animals from attacking.

Brian Clark had deliberately chosen the downwind side to keep the smoke from blowing toward the man.