The mother, like a tank, charged recklessly through the waist-high grass, shouting loudly as she went—she was clearing a path for her son.

Henry Carter followed closely behind Mother, always feeling that there were unspeakable, unknown dangers lurking just out of his sight.

Aside from snails, there was little edible in the grass, but Mother always managed to find things that delighted Henry Carter—like all kinds of eggs.

After finding two goose eggs the size of fists, Mother deliberately avoided the crowds. The mother and son hid in a nest of grass, cracked open the two goose eggs, and grinned foolishly at each other as they sucked up the rare delicacy.

After finishing the goose eggs, Mother erased all traces of their sneaky meal, took her chubby son by the hand, and continued searching for food in the grass.

Henry Carter gazed at the vast stretches of marshland left behind after the river receded. The sky above the marsh was filled with flying birds; some birds, as they flew, would suddenly dive headfirst down.

When they took off again, their sharp beaks often held a fish.

Seeing this, Henry Carter suddenly felt he ought to go take a look over there.

Although Mother was reluctant, she couldn’t resist her son, whose status in the tribe had soared, and so she unwillingly followed him to the marsh.

The situation in the marsh was just as Henry Carter had expected—actually, it far exceeded his expectations. He hadn’t imagined there would be so many fish left in this marsh.

In a puddle just two feet square, it was packed full of fish heads. The fish weren’t big—the largest was only about the size of a palm. In the shallow water not far away, Henry Carter even saw big fish flapping their fins and darting around.

This wasn’t really a marsh at all, but a fish pond teeming with life.

Seeing so many fish, Mother immediately leapt into the shallow water, first catching a fish and biting it in her mouth, grabbing two more in her hands, then staring anxiously at the fish-filled pond in a daze.

Her gaze suddenly fell on her chubby son. She jumped out of the water, stuffed a fish into his mouth for him to bite, put the other two wriggling fish in his hands, and then jumped back into the water.

Henry Carter sighed, spat out the fish in his mouth, broke off a tender willow branch, threaded it through the fish’s gills, and shouted to Mother, who was holding fish in her mouth and hands, “Catch fish!”

Mother saw Henry Carter’s new invention and was overjoyed. She tossed three fish onto the bank and continued catching more.

In just a short while, Henry Carter had strung together over a dozen bunches of fish, each weighing at least five or six jin. For the strength of just the two of them, this was probably the limit.

Mother had become obsessed with catching fish. Even when Henry Carter shouted and hollered to snap her out of her harvest-induced trance, she was still unsatisfied with what they’d gathered.

Mother came ashore, holding two carp a foot long. This time, she didn’t hand the fish to Henry Carter, but roughly twisted off their heads, scraped them a few times with a stone shard, then tore off the skins and devoured one raw herself. Following the same method, she prepared a raw fish feast for Henry Carter.

Henry Carter had never eaten a foot-long carp before. Back then, even a palm-sized carp was considered big.

And they didn’t eat carp like this, swallowing it raw and whole. Instead, they’d remove the scales and guts, then fry it slowly in oil as a snack with wine. If they wanted fish soup, they’d add water and boil it until it turned milky white...

“Eat!”

Mother’s eyes were full of doting affection. Her mud-stained hands held out a fish—obviously deboned—making it impossible for Henry Carter to refuse.

The fish was sweet and fragrant, a bit crunchy, and very springy. Although there was still a faint earthy taste and some soft bones remained, it was the best food Henry Carter had eaten in this world, aside from breast milk.

It even made Henry Carter think that maybe this was how carp was meant to be eaten.

“Go back?” Henry Carter asked Mother.

Only after watching Henry Carter’s body language did Mother understand what he meant, but she didn’t seem to have any intention of returning to the tribe. Instead, she continued peeling another fish...

So, Mother ate four fish in one go, Henry Carter ate two, and only after making sure Henry Carter couldn’t eat any more did Mother hang the fish strung on branches over herself, and lead Henry Carter across the damp grassland back to the tribe.

Mother walked quickly, and Henry Carter had to run to keep up. Even so, by the time they returned to the cave, the sun had already set.

Mother’s haul was so great that when they returned to the tribe, everyone stared at her in astonishment. Soon, astonishment turned into celebration.

Henry Carter thought Mother would tell the chief where the food came from, but she didn’t say a word. When the chief and the others finished roasting the fish, she was the first to take two—one for herself, one for her son.

The roasted fish, with neither scales nor guts removed, smelled delicious, but Henry Carter still couldn’t eat it and instead offered it to the chief.

The chief was clearly confused when he received the roasted fish, but he still took it.

Chapter 8: Is Mother a Born Politician?

That night, Henry Carter slept very well, with Mother sleeping right beside him. None of those guys who tried to trade food for a night with Mother succeeded.

With enough food to eat, Mother became very proud.