Practicing is easy when one has infinite skill points.

"Shitou, go pluck the feathers off that chicken. I'll stew it for you later." 

"Alright, Second Brother, I'm on it!" 

Zhong Shi excitedly picked up the colorful wild pheasant, even patting the thoroughly dead muntjac deer with his hand, letting out a stream of delighted "wows." 

Zhong Lin pocketed the copper coins from the table into a pouch, gazing at the little radish-head before him with a complicated expression. 

Zhong Shi—the younger brother of his predecessor, his real flesh and blood. 

His predecessor had been one of four brothers, ranking second, which was why Zhong Shi called him "Second Brother." Their mother had died during a difficult childbirth with the fourth child, taking both her life and the baby's. Last year, their father and eldest brother had ventured into the mountains to hunt, only to encounter a tiger—losing their lives to its jaws. In the end, only Zhong Lin's predecessor and Zhong Shi, the third brother, were left to depend on each other. 

If Zhong Lin hadn't transmigrated, his predecessor would have perished in Heishan this time. The household would have been stripped bare by the villagers, and five-year-old Zhong Shi likely wouldn't have survived. 

A family shattered and destroyed—this was true devastation! 

This realization deepened Zhong Lin's sense of how harsh life was in this world. 

He could feel his predecessor's dying concern for Zhong Shi, which was why he had accepted the boy so quickly. 

"Since I've taken your body, I'll take on your karma too. I'll raise Little Shitou into a man," Zhong Lin vowed silently. 

"Second Brother, I've plucked the chicken!" 

"Coming." 

Zhong Lin shook off his thoughts and stepped over. 

Poor children grow up fast, even if it's just handling chores. At five years old, Zhong Shi had deftly plucked the feathers from the wild pheasant with ease, leaving only the gutting and cutting to be done. 

The beautiful pheasant feathers were gathered by Zhong Shi, shimmering with vibrant colors under the sunlight. 

Good thing it was a rooster—hen feathers wouldn't have been nearly as striking. 

Zhong Lin grabbed a kitchen knife from the house and, with a few swift strokes, gutted and chopped the bird into pieces. 

"Go rinse off the blood foam with water. I'll handle those two rabbits. We'll stew a pot of 'Golden Rooster Crowing at the Moon' later," Zhong Lin instructed. 

Kids love being given tasks by adults—it makes them feel grown-up. Plus, the promise of meat had Zhong Shi practically drooling, his mind racing with thoughts of how delicious this "Golden Rooster Crowing at the Moon" would be. 

Zhong Lin found a rope and tied up the rabbits, their heads pierced by arrows, hanging them on a rack for easier skinning. 

He'd never done this himself, but his predecessor's memories of skinning and deboning rabbits alongside his father and brother guided him. It wasn't unfamiliar work, and in no time, he'd stripped the entire pelt off cleanly. 

He didn't plan to toss the hides—after treating them with saltpeter later, they could be turned into a hat or shoes. 

The skinned rabbit meat went onto the cutting board, chopped into chunks, and rinsed to remove the blood foam. Then, along with the chicken, it was all tossed into the pot. 

No chance of stir-frying—no oil, no chili peppers, no seasonings to speak of. The best option was to stew it all together. 

Thankfully, the villagers who'd come to "mourn" Zhong Lin had built a clay stove in the courtyard, fetched water, and brought firewood—enough to last half a month. 

Zhong Shi was young, and Zhong Lin wasn't much of a cook. His only trick was a chaotic stew. 

Chicken and rabbit meat went into the pot with water, salt, and wild greens. Lid on. 

After half an hour over a roaring fire, a savory aroma wafted out. 

It wasn't gourmet by any stretch—mostly, it smelled good because neither of them had any fat in their bodies. Even plain boiled meat would taste heavenly today, and this had salt too. 

"Second Brother, can we eat yet?" 

Zhong Shi had asked at least ten times, his eyes brimming with longing, swallowing hard as his stomach growled. 

Zhong Lin lifted the lid. Steam billowed up, carrying the rich scent of cooked meat. 

*Grrr…* 

*Grrr…* 

The brothers locked eyes, then burst into laughter, pointing at each other mockingly. 

Zhong Lin fished out a piece with chopsticks, took a bite, and chewed. The meat was tender, the salt had seeped in nicely. 

"Not bad. Let's dig in." 

He popped the other half into Zhong Shi's mouth, then grabbed a ladle to scoop portions into bowls. 

One bowl each, paired with the leftover chestnut rice from the villagers. The taste? Delicious. 

It was just simple boiled meat with salt and greens, but to two bodies starved of any richness, it was a feast. No need for fussiness here. 

"Slow down—watch out for bones, don't choke. There's plenty in the pot for both of us," Zhong Lin said, patting Zhong Shi's head, worried he'd eat too fast and get a bone stuck. 

In his past life, he'd had a little nephew who'd choked on a bone once. His face turned blue in moments—if an adult hadn't noticed in time, he might've been gone. 

"Mmm… so good," Zhong Shi mumbled through a mouthful. 

As Zhong Lin gnawed on his meat, he mulled over his next steps. He wasn't planning to stay in Xiahe Village. His predecessor had lived here for over a decade without ever leaving. Now that Zhong Lin was here, he wanted to see the world. 

Besides, with a system panel at his disposal, staying in Xiahe Village would just let it gather dust. Only in a bigger, bustling place could it truly shine. 

And Zhong Lin was curious—did this world have supernatural powers? That's how it always went in novels, after all! 

After eating their fill, the two leaned against a doorframe, basking lazily in the sun. Zhong Shi nearly dozed off. 

The past few days had been rough on him—terrified at home, then dealing with those shameless villagers raiding their house. His nerves were frayed. Now, full and satisfied, all he wanted was a good nap. 

Zhong Lin nudged him awake. "Don't sleep here—you'll catch a cold." 

"Second Brother, I'm not sleeping!" 

Zhong Shi's eyes snapped open wide. He shook his head vigorously, fighting off the drowsiness. 

He was scared—scared that if he fell asleep, his Second Brother might disappear again. He didn't want to wake up alone, shivering in a corner, or hear everyone tell him his brother was dead. 

A child's thoughts were plain on his face, and Zhong Lin saw it all. A pang of pity flashed through him as he ruffled Zhong Shi's oversized head, malnourished and out of proportion. 

"Don't worry, Second Brother's not going anywhere. From now on, I'll take you wherever I go. Come on, let's deal with that muntjac." 

With that, Zhong Lin leapt up, brushed the dirt off his pants, and strode toward the muntjac lying in the corner of the courtyard. 

Zhong Shi scrambled to his feet with a grunt, following eagerly, sleepiness forgotten. 

The muntjac's hide was well-preserved—Zhong Lin's arrow had gone clean through its eye. Too bad muntjac pelts weren't worth much. 

Zhong Shi tugged the rope while Zhong Lin hefted the weight. Together, they hung the animal up. 

Normally, skinning and gutting was a job for a professional butcher. Doing it yourself, without proper tools, risked ruining the hide—and often, the pelt was worth more than the meat.