She was transformed into the weakest female in the world of beasts and was picked up by the leader of the cold-faced leopard clan and taken back to the tribe to die.
My people all laughed at me as a waste until I rubbed the flames with my hands and became a god with a barbecue.
Bitter wild vegetables were turned into medicinal foods, and poisonous native eggs became the staple food. The tribe became rich from then on.
The cold-faced leader transformed into a loyal dog and guarded her day and night: "Who dares to call my female weak?"
When the enemies combined their forces to press the border, I set up a cauldron and sneered: "Come on, have a taste of my 'soul-breaking soup'."
——On the tip of the tongue is survival. Under the tip of the tongue, there is civilization
