He placed the cleaned meat, bones, and organs into his Storage Bag and tied it shut with a rope. Feng Mountain tested the weight, then casually slung the massive sack of bear meat over his shoulder.
Frank and Tom, who had been about to offer help, could only stare with their jaws agape.
After butchering the 800-plus-pound brown bear, not counting the hide, organs, and bones, the clean meat alone weighed at least 500 pounds.
500 pounds!!
Who on earth could carry that much weight, especially on snow?
"Feng, are you some kind of strongman?" Tom asked cautiously, his throat suddenly dry.
Frank quickly chimed in, "Do you want me to help carry some of that?"
"It's fine, I can manage."
Feng Mountain waved a hand dismissively. To him, the massive sack of bear meat on his shoulder felt as light as a bag of cotton.
If this had been yesterday, Feng Mountain definitely wouldn't have been able to carry this much. But after the Witchcraft Bone Ring absorbed the brown bear's Soul Power, his physical strength was steadily increasing, and all his other bodily functions were rapidly improving as well.
A single brown bear provided more than a thousand times the Soul Power of a Thunderbird.
Feng Mountain couldn't say for sure exactly how much stronger he'd gotten.
Using the weight of the meat as a benchmark, he could probably lift 200 kilograms. Besides, the Witchcraft Bone Ring didn't just boost his strength; it was a comprehensive enhancement that included strength, stamina, agility, and more.
...
The group made their way out of the Moonlight Forest.
They loaded the bear meat, hide, and Bear Bones onto the sled, and the three of them began dragging it back to camp.
The brown bear hunt had been a success, but the real work was just beginning.
If the meat and Bear Bones weren't processed quickly, they would spoil within days in the damp, cold air.
Fortunately, a blizzard had just ended, so they could temporarily bury the meat in the snow to keep it refrigerated. That would only work for a few days, though. The sky looked like it was about to clear up, and a few more days of that would ruin the meat.
Processing the hide was a more urgent task than dealing with the meat. With winter approaching, the brown bear had stored a massive amount of fat, which clung tightly to the skin. To save time while skinning the animal, Feng Mountain had left a lot of this fat on the hide, and it needed to be cleaned off quickly.
The process for tanning hides was detailed in his grand-uncle's diary. It was a traditional Alaskan method, and while it was incredibly labor-intensive, the resulting hides were of the highest quality.
'Looks like Grand-uncle did this kind of work a lot,' he thought. 'This fur coat I'm wearing was probably handmade by him.'
Feng Mountain brought four long wooden poles out of the workshed. He arranged them into a rectangular frame matching the size of the bear hide and nailed the corners together.
Using an awl, he punched small holes along the edge of the hide. He then threaded a rope through the holes and tied it to the wooden frame, stretching the skin taut to make it easier to scrape off the clinging fat and flesh.
Seeing this, Frank and Tom helped him lift the wooden frame and lean it against the eaves of the shed. All that was left was the tedious task of scraping off the fat and flesh. If it wasn't cleaned thoroughly, mildew would form during the drying process, ruining the quality of the finished hide.
Feng Mountain retrieved a scraping tool from the shed. It resembled a small hoe, with a handle made of reindeer antler and a steel blade at the end. The local Indians called it a Wanta Card.
The entire brown bear hide was five or six square meters. It would take tens of thousands of scrapes to get it all off.
The afternoon was already upon them.
He decided to make lunch first. After all, he had two guests.
"Buddy, what kind of Chinese delicacy are you going to make?" Tom asked, his eyes shining.
Feng Mountain didn't answer, just giving him a mysterious smile.
He picked out a few ingredients from the snow and went into the kitchen of the bus.
An hour later, the two starving gluttons saw Feng Mountain emerge from the bus carrying two large bowls and rushed over to meet him.
A unique aroma wafted from one of the bowls, a mix of spices and meat that made both of their mouths water.
"Feng, what's this dish?" Frank asked, swallowing hard. His eyes were filled with curiosity as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the two bowls in Feng Mountain's hands.
There were two bowls.
One bowl held noodles, while the other contained the fragrant delicacy—slices of some unidentifiable meat. Each piece was cut in a peculiar way, its surface covered in a cross-hatched pattern.
"We're having noodles with a topping for lunch. Just something simple. We'll have a big feast tonight." Feng Mountain set the bowls down, went back into the bus, and returned with plates. For the convenience of the two gluttons, he had even brought them forks.
He served a plate of noodles first, then ladled a large spoonful of the topping over them.
"Isn't this just pasta?" Tom asked, a little disappointed. He'd thought Feng Mountain would make some amazing Chinese dish, like that potato and chicken thing.
He speared a slice of meat with his fork and popped it into his mouth.
A rich, unique flavor instantly exploded in his mouth. The intense aroma and the wonderful texture of the meat made his eyes light up.
He exclaimed in admiration.
"Frank, you have to try this! This dish is amazing."
Frank followed Feng Mountain's lead, mixing the noodles and topping together. He then twirled a forkful of sauce-coated noodles and meat.
As he put it in his mouth, the chewiness of the noodles and the kick of the sauce intertwined, creating a unique and satisfying sensation.
His taste buds were assaulted by the intense flavor, and Frank couldn't help but let out a "Whoa!"
A spicy heat then spread through his mouth, making his forehead break out in a light sweat, but he couldn't stop. He continued to devour the food, marveling with every bite.
"Buddy, what is this meat? Reindeer tenderloin? Reindeer short ribs? God, this is the most delicious meat I've ever eaten!" Tom asked, sweating profusely but not forgetting to probe for the secret ingredient.
"That," Feng Mountain said, holding his plate and nodding toward the pile of brown bear meat in the snow.
Oh!
So it was brown bear meat.
Just as expressions of dawning realization appeared on their faces, they heard Feng Mountain add slowly, "The brown bear's liver and kidneys, to be exact. Back in my hometown, this dish is called Sautéed Liver and Kidney."
The brown bear's liver and kidneys?
Frank and Tom's expressions froze, their eyes showing a mixture of disbelief and astonishment.
In Alaska, very few people besides the native population eat animal organs—foie gras being a notable exception. To them, offal was a symbol of uncleanliness.
But the organs Feng Mountain had cooked had no gamy taste at all; in fact, they were exceptionally delicious.
The two of them stared blankly for a few seconds, as if trying to process this information. Then, Frank shrugged.
"Well, I guess I have to reconsider my opinion on these ingredients. Tom, you're a religious man, you can't eat organs. Why don't you let me finish this dish by myself?"
"Fuck, it's Sunday. God's taking the day off." Tom clutched his plate like a dog guarding its food, a ferocious glint in his eye. He looked ready to bite.
After lunch, the three of them sat under the shed, drinking tea to let their food settle.
"Feng, we're planning to head back to Fairbanks," Frank said. He knew Feng Mountain had a lot to do and didn't want to get in his way.
Feng Mountain nodded. He turned to look at Frank and Tom, feeling a pang of reluctance. It was rare to have company for a couple of days.
"Why not leave tomorrow morning? I'll make braised bear meat for dinner."
Tom's eyes lit up at the offer, but just as he was about to open his mouth, Frank grabbed him and said with a smile.
"We can't. I have a lot of work waiting for me in the city, and Tom has flights to make. You have plenty to do here yourself. Right, Tom?"
"Agh...!" Tom suddenly yelped, his face contorting in pain. He nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I've got several deliveries to make! Fuck, what did you just stab me with?"
Frank nonchalantly tossed aside the awl used for punching holes in the hide. "Feng, you should probably come to Fairbanks soon. There are still some follow-up documents you need to sign."
"I'll have Tom pick you up next Monday."
"Alright!"
Feng Mountain didn't object. He did need to make a trip to Fairbanks to buy some supplies.
Since they would be seeing each other again in a week, he didn't insist they stay.
Before they left, he dug two bear legs out of the snow pile and gave them to his friends as a gift.
'It's all about human connections! You have to return a favor with a favor. And it looks like foreigners fall for it, too.'
...