"I’ll go over and take a look too; I can help you out while I’m at it." Balu silently stepped forward and took the cart from Eric’s hands.
Eric thought for a moment, told Balu to wait for him a bit, and then went to call the other small-type beastmen.
The amount of potatoes the tribe kept for seeds was too large; for those few dozen beastmen to cut them would be too tiring, so it was better to call more people to work together. He also thoughtfully kept some Rabbit tribe members to go dig the underground pipes.
After arranging these things, he led a group of beastmen and Balu to the back of his house.
Mun followed Tam this time as well. After he returned, the beastmen in the tent learned that they were called to work, specifically to cut potatoes. The worry in their hearts gradually dissipated, so when they heard Eric come to call, they didn’t resist at all.
With more people participating, the progress of cutting potatoes immediately became faster. It was just that the fish scale knives were obviously not enough. Eric had to run a trip to the kitchen to find Sam and ask for a pile of sharp fish scales. After returning, he distributed them to the Rat and Rabbit tribes whose claws weren’t very sharp.
Fortunately, the tribe had caught quite a few fish and shrimp today. Although not as many as at the beginning, it was enough to add to the dishes. Now the fish in the river had become more vigilant and didn’t take the bait as easily as at first.
There was a type of large black fish with whiskers on its face like a catfish; the scales of this fish were the best to use. Before having the kitchen knife forged by Robin, Eric had always used its scale knives.
Balu watched for a while, even carefully picking up a cut piece of potato and observing it intently, his expression becoming more solemn the more he looked:
"Little Patriarch, are you sure doing this can really make them live? Cutting potatoes into such small pieces."
Eric walked over and pointed to the sprout eye on the potato piece in his hand, explaining seriously:
"This is the sprout eye I just mentioned. Actually, potato sprouting relies on these. From the sprout eye, it will grow roots and generate shoots. A potato has several sprout eyes like this; if you bury the whole tuber in the ground, it’s very wasteful. It’s better to cut it; every piece of potato with a sprout eye can grow into a new plant."
Balu ignored his hands covered in kitchen ash; he looked at the potato piece over and over again, not daring to believe what Eric said was true. If that was the case, how many potatoes could be saved each year? At least two-thirds of the seeds could be saved.
"But..." Balu looked worriedly at the busy small-type beastmen: "If these are all cut, what if it doesn’t work? Wouldn’t these seeds be wasted?"
Eric knew he was worried for the Hadu tribe, so he used a reason to reassure him:
"It’s okay. I used natural magic to test it, and doing this is indeed feasible. You just rest assured. If it doesn’t work, we’ll wash them clean and use them for food."
When he said this, Balu felt slightly reassured, though he couldn’t help but still worry. But after a period of contact, he also knew clearly that this Little Patriarch, although young, would not easily change his mind once he decided.
And so many magical things had happened to him; it seemed one more wouldn’t be amiss.
Deep down, how could Balu not hope this was true? He also hoped this method could succeed so that the Red Grass tribe could save a lot of potatoes each year, which could create great value for the tribe.
"Then if you cut it so small, it will rot very soon. Do you have to plant it right away?" Balu suddenly thought that cut potatoes were more prone to rotting and asked hurriedly.
Eric guessed he would ask these things and replied:
"Didn’t I coat each potato piece with kitchen ash? That can prevent them from rotting. Potatoes just cut cannot be planted immediately. Planting them straight into the ground makes them easy to rot and grow pests. Coating them in kitchen ash and leaving them for two days, waiting for the skin to dry before planting, will prevent rotting and can also promote the potatoes to sprout quickly."
"Just with this pile of ash burned from dry wood and dry grass, does it have such a great effect?" Balu asked skeptically.
Eric smiled lightly: "Of course, kitchen ash can not only prevent potatoes from rotting but also has many other uses. Haven’t you seen the Dwarves frequently coming to get kitchen ash these past two days? They use it for making glass and whatnot."
Balu’s mouth fell open in surprise:
"No wonder, I was wondering why your tribe’s ash wasn’t dumped far away but kept piled there. The wind blows it easily into the eyes; it turns out it’s all useful. I only knew this could be used to wash clothes; I didn’t expect you guys to develop so many uses."
Eric smiled shyly.
It wasn’t that he was smart; it was just that the internet was so developed in his past life that he learned a lot by watching. In the past, poor families could even use kitchen ash to stop bleeding if they were injured, but humans were the ones who needed that; Snow Wolf people didn’t need that use much.
Since the tribe caught that Elf team, Evan was obviously more anxious to turn back into an Elf. Every day he left early and returned late, sometimes even sleeping out in the wild.
But today was strange; Evan came back early, following the voices to find the back of Eric’s house.
"Did you finish practicing magic and come back?" Eric, sharp-eyed, had already seen him and asked with a beaming smile.
Evan smiled and nodded.
Eric, familiar with him, discovered a difference. Although Evan was still smiling as usual, today even his eyes were full of smiles; one look and you knew he was happy from within.
It was rare to see him like this, and Eric was a bit curious. What good thing had happened? Did he discover wood that could make magic props again, or was it...
He had a guess in his heart and couldn’t help but secretly rejoice for Evan.
There were many people here, so it wasn’t convenient to talk about these things. He suppressed the urge to ask, glanced around the crowd, and called out loudly:
"Hieu, and Vien, you two are in charge of supervising everyone working here; don’t cut them wrong. I have something to do and need to go home."
Vien went without saying, and although Hieu seemed timid, she was recognized as the bravest person in the Rabbit tribe. Whenever speaking was needed, the Rabbit tribe would unanimously nominate her. So with her and Vien as representatives, Eric was quite reassured.
Balu was still immersed in the news that potatoes could be cut to plant, standing in amazement among the beastmen watching everyone cut potatoes. Eric didn’t call him either and led Evan away first.
By this time, the beastmen who had gotten used to it had taught the newcomers, and everyone working together made the speed faster.
Mun was the only cub among this group of small-type beastmen, and everyone didn’t let him work. Tam brought him out fearing he couldn’t stand being in the tent and would run out to cause trouble again.
This little black cat still had a round water ball on his head.
Cats naturally liked to play with round things, and Mun was no exception. This magical water ball didn’t break no matter how it rolled, and the spinning water inside made a flowing sound, which was very interesting, so he couldn’t bear to put it down even when outside.
He weaved under the feet of a group of Cat tribe people working hard, his eyes occasionally glancing at the Snow Wolf people’s Little Patriarch.
Discovering the Little Patriarch wanted to leave, he instinctively wanted to follow, but was grabbed by the scruff of his neck by Tam with one hand, struggling unwillingly in his uncle’s hand.
Tam had long been wary of him running around and said helplessly: "This child, doesn’t listen at all. You are not allowed to follow someone else’s patriarch anymore; be careful of provoking him and getting kicked out."
Mun hurriedly hugged the water ball that rolled down from his head, afraid of accidentally breaking it. Regarding Tam’s words, he disagreed a bit.
Just from a little contact, he knew this Little Patriarch wouldn’t get angry over small things. Just now he struggled and scratched the other party’s hand, yet the Little Patriarch still smiled beamingly, gave him delicious food, and gave him a toy.
Tam put him down, working while supervising him out of the corner of his eye, worrying endlessly.