Henry Clark could feel the burning gaze of Mr. Steward fixed on his back, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t show something extraordinary soon, he couldn’t guarantee that Mr. Steward would continue to treat him so well.

　　Rows of bamboo slips and wooden tablets were laid out flat, turning into two beds. On the beds were various animal skins that Henry Clark had sun-dried today—half used as bedding, half as covers. Such beds should be very comfortable.

　　Since coming here, tonight was the most comfortable night’s sleep Henry Clark had had. Mr. Steward naturally slept on the other bed. Maybe because he’d slept enough the previous night, this night he stared at Henry Clark with wide eyes the whole time.

　　When Henry Clark woke up in the morning, Mr. Steward was already gone, but the tiger was still there, repeatedly pretending to pounce on the doe. Each time, it would gently hold the doe’s head in its mouth, never biting down. The doe didn’t seem afraid at all, happily playing along with the tiger.

　　There is no such thing as love without reason in this world... Even if there were, Henry Clark wouldn’t believe it! The environment had changed strangely, perhaps even time and space had shifted greatly, but the only thing that hadn’t changed was Henry Clark’s nearly cold heart.

　　He had left his job as an engineer, and at the same time, left the woman who liked to accuse him of lacking ambition. That woman had once called him through gritted teeth, saying his heart was made of stone...

　　She thought Henry Clark was just leaving for a few days and would eventually come home, but he never returned, feeling not the slightest attachment to that home.

　　In the end, that woman even wished him an early death... so, Henry Clark died.

　　The weather was great today, and Henry Clark didn’t understand why he thought of that woman. She hadn’t appeared in his dreams for a long time.

　　“Maybe that woman was right.” Henry Clark muttered to himself, grabbing the tiger’s ear.

　　Building the closest relationship with the tiger in the shortest time had been Henry Clark’s goal lately, and it seemed to be going well.

　　The tiger loved brushing its teeth with salt water—or maybe it just liked salt. Henry Clark had observed that Mr. Steward wasn’t nice to the tiger at all, always ordering it around, and beating or kicking it at the slightest displeasure.

　　Perhaps this was Mr. Steward’s way of establishing a master-servant relationship with the tiger. For a wild beast, the king it submits to in its youth will be its king for life.

　　Henry Clark’s task today was to make a pair of shoes. He had plenty of animal hides, and a sturdy old wolf pelt would be his main material for the shoes.

　　The wolf pelt was a bluish-gray color he really liked, but before making the shoes, he needed to nail together five layers of dehaired wolf skin with hemp rope, then wrap them in a thick wolf hide to finally form a nice sole.

　　It sounded simple, but was actually very difficult.

　　The wolf hide was thick and tough, and his big needle was not up to the task. If he used too little force, it wouldn’t pierce the hide; too much, and the needle would bend.

　　By noon, Henry Clark looked at his blistered hands and had to stop making the shoes for now.

　　He really hoped Mr. Steward could get him a set of blacksmith tools, so he could make some proper tools in the simplest way.

　　All afternoon, Henry Clark wandered the mountain forest near the stone house. The resources here were extremely abundant.

　　Just in the nearby woods, he found two kinds of wild spices: Sichuan peppercorn and star anise.

　　With these two spices and some salt, Henry Clark felt he could make an exceptionally delicious rabbit stew tonight.

　　With the future uncertain, Henry Clark decided to live each day well—at the very least, to not waste his new life.

　　Rabbit meat stewed in a clay pot didn’t taste as good as he’d imagined. The meat was bland and had a strong earthy smell. It wasn’t tasty at all. But if he added a few pieces of fatty wild boar meat and let the spices bring out the flavor, it would instantly become mouthwateringly fragrant.

　　No one eats wild rabbit meat alone—that should be common sense, and Henry Clark certainly wouldn’t make that mistake.

　　However, after eating rabbit meat for every meal three days in a row, even the tastiest food would become unappetizing.

　　But Mr. Steward, on the other hand, ate happily every day. No matter how much food Henry Clark made, he would finish all the leftovers, not even leaving any soup.

　　Henry Clark believed that if anyone saw the way Mr. Steward ate, they would develop the utmost respect for food.

　　So, Mr. Steward came back very punctually every day, because he realized that once Henry Clark’s food cooled, it tasted much worse.

　　Henry Clark didn’t have time to keep experimenting with food, as the anvil, hammer, tongs, and iron knife he needed were all gradually brought to him by Mr. Steward.

　　Even though they were covered in thick rust, Henry Clark was still very happy.

　　Building a simple furnace required the best clay, and there was a layer of red clay at the foot of the nearby mountain, which was perfect for making a basic furnace.

　　So Henry Clark began weaving a sieve with very fine hemp thread, to filter the clay.

　　The finely ground and sifted clay was soaked by Henry Clark in a water jar, and he stomped on it thousands of times with his feet.

　　The clay sat in the water jar for a full three days.