“Soup’s ready~”
Jiang Bai ladled a bowl and handed it to Xiao Shi. Without caring if it was too hot, the little hilichurl took it and drank immediately.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Jiang Bai said, smiling as he watched.
Putting aside the fact that this little guy was technically a monster… he really was kind of cute.
Xiao Shi winced at the heat—though it was his mouth that burned, he reacted like he’d stepped on a sizzling iron plate. He hopped around in place, mouth open, fanning it frantically.
But once he got a taste of the broth, he stopped caring about the heat altogether. He gulped it down in big, happy swigs, clearly enjoying himself.
“Huhu~ Valo~”
Jiang Bai guessed he was saying something like thank you or tasty, and his mood lifted.
He filled a bowl for himself and sat on a pile of dry grass, sipping slowly.
The rich aroma of the broth drifted through the cavern, and before long, all the hilichurls had gathered, drawn by the smell.
One of the larger hilichurls—with a disproportionately big head—stared longingly at Jiang Bai’s bowl. But under the watchful gaze of the elder shamans, none of them moved. They simply drooled in silence, watching him eat.
Jiang Bai noted the discipline. If this were a typical hilichurl camp, they’d have rushed him already. But these ones… they just sat and watched, no matter how badly they wanted a taste.
There was clearly a social structure in this camp. At the top were the two elder hilichurl shamans. Below them were the bulky warriors, then the juvenile hilichurls, who were well cared for. The lowest-ranking were the ordinary ones who lacked any special ability. As for the slimes… well, they were more like toys. They didn’t rank at all.
A hierarchy not based solely on brute strength—this was already a rudimentary form of civilization.
They really are different, Jiang Bai thought. I’ve never seen this kind of behavior in other hilichurl camps… though maybe I’ve never bothered to really observe them before.
He made up his mind to check other hilichurl groups on the mountain once he left, just to compare.
Seeing the group’s eyes glaze over with hunger, he used geo energy to form several stone bowls and filled each with a modest serving of soup—enough to give everyone a taste.
“Valo~”
Every hilichurl that received a bowl said the same word. After hearing it a dozen times in a row, Jiang Bai committed it to memory.
He figured he’d gotten the meaning right, and responded in kind:
“Valo~”
“Dada~”
“Mosi Mita~”
The hilichurls were overjoyed. They sat casually on the ground with their bowls, relaxed and content.
If you could ignore the fact that they were considered monsters, it was a genuinely heartwarming scene.
Jiang Bai poured the last bit of broth into his bowl—just the dregs, really. He’d made a whole pot, yet barely had any for himself.
The hilichurls, clearly unaccustomed to such flavorful food, licked their bowls clean. Even the spicy chunks of ginger were eaten without hesitation—nothing was left.
It wasn’t that Jiang Bai’s cooking was especially good, just that their usual food preparation was so crude that even basic seasoning was a culinary revelation to them.
When they realized there was no more, their shoulders slumped in collective disappointment.
“Tomo~”
One hilichurl murmured the word, and soon, the entire cavern echoed with overlapping Tomos.
Jiang Bai didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it sounded like a good thing.
Just like a toddler learning to talk, he tried mimicking what he’d heard.
“Tomo~”
“Mosi Mita~”
“Mosi Mita~”
The words didn’t connect in any meaningful way, but the exchange still felt oddly cheerful.
Since the soup was gone, Jiang Bai had to settle for chewing on some dry flatbread to fill his stomach.
He wandered around the camp while eating. Thanks to the soup, the hilichurls now treated him with open friendliness—no one stopped him or looked wary.
But after making a full circuit of the camp, he still hadn’t found anything particularly noteworthy—aside from the ice wall, that is.
Maybe the cave paintings on the stone walls held clues, but they were too abstract for him to make sense of.
And mimicking their language like a broken record wasn’t real communication. He could repeat their words, but he had no idea what they meant.
If only there were someone who understood hilichurlian… I could finally ask what all this means.
Jiang Bai sighed, but he didn’t feel too disappointed. The camp wasn’t going anywhere—he could always return later.
The spot was remote and hidden. With any luck, powerful adventurers wouldn’t stumble upon it and wipe the tribe out.
He made a mental note to search for a linguist familiar with hilichurlian once he got back—someone who could help him study the language in earnest.
With that, Jiang Bai began packing his things.
There was no point in staying if he couldn’t glean useful information or communicate properly. He still had work to do elsewhere and couldn’t afford to linger.
Besides, with teleportation, he could always drop by again when he had time.
Just as he was about to leave, one of the elder shamans emerged from the wooden hut, carrying a preserved leg of boar as a parting gift.
The meat was well-kept—completely frozen, preserving its freshness.
“Tomo~ Mosi Mita!”
Meat for a friend.
The shaman lifted the meat high, clearly offering it with sincerity.
Jiang Bai, despite not understanding the words, could feel the gesture’s warmth.
“Oh no, no, really—you keep it,” he said, gently declining and handing over a bundle of Sweet Flowers instead.
The old shaman, seeing that Jiang Bai wouldn’t take the meat, clutched the flowers and the frozen leg, then darted back inside. Moments later, he emerged with a small mask.
It looked just like the masks the hilichurls wore, but much smaller—clearly meant as a decoration.
He handed it to Jiang Bai while muttering something unintelligible in hilichurlian.
“A gift for me?”
Jiang Bai accepted it. The little mask was about the size of half his palm.
He threaded a string through the eyeholes and made a charm out of it.
“Mosi Mita~”
Seeing him accept the gift, the shaman broke into a celebratory dance, and the rest of the tribe followed suit.
Apparently, dancing was their go-to expression of joy.
Jiang Bai tried imitating their moves… only to immediately feel like a complete idiot. He lowered his arms and casually pretended nothing had happened.
Once the dance ended, he finally said his goodbyes.
The old shaman waved his staff high in the air, seemingly to send him off.
Jiang Bai waved back and tied the little mask charm together with his Vision. Without another glance, he strode forward into the snow.
He’d already memorized this location. Next time, he’d come back.
“…Yeah. Maybe next time I run into hilichurls, I shouldn’t be so quick to fight.”
They’re monsters, sure. But when they’re willing to communicate… they shouldn’t be treated like mindless beasts anymore.
Especially after they’ve given you a gift.
—
T/N: this is so fucking cute
This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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