As an animal, life is boring. You have no phone, no Internet, no friends, no communication, and even no attractive opposite sex. Brandon's entire life revolved around hunting, eating, and cultivating.

In the beginning, he didn't have time to get bored because he was weak when he was born. Even a mouse outside was as ferocious as a tiger in his eyes. He worked hard to improve his strength every day, was nervous and frightened every day, rushed for his food every day, and had no time to be bored.

As he grew older and became stronger, hunting became easier, and there were not many ferocious beasts that could threaten him, he began to gradually become bored and even lonely deep down inside. In a desolate and inhabited jungle, there was no one with whom to communicate smoothly.

This is the tragedy of an intelligent animal. When your wisdom far exceeds the level of the creatures around you, you will not feel a sense of superiority in IQ, but a deep loneliness. The so-called "warmth, fullness, and lust for sex" means that when people's material needs begin to be met, people begin to pursue spiritual needs.

Brandon raised the fire, picked up a zebra that had just been cleaned, and began to bake it on the fire. Watching the flames gradually engulf the zebra, he began to deeply miss his previous life, where he could communicate with friends, surf the Internet, watch TV, and even eat all kinds of delicious food. But look at himself, let alone surfing the Internet and watching TV.

These were really unrealistic for him now. Just the food, barbecue, barbecue, barbecue every day. He had been very irritable for a few days. Every time he saw barbecue, he felt the burning acid in his stomach.

He had started to try various tricks, such as snake meat skewers, whole antelope barbecue, beef skewers, and rabbit beggar chicken. He had changed almost all his previous methods of cooking.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. There was no salt, no MSG, and no seasoning. He ate these dry things every day. Moreover, when the barbeque would get cold, it would become almost harder than a stone.

I really can't figure it out. I don't know what it was like before. How can I endure this?

He remembered that his favourite thing when he was a kid was barbecue. When his child self would see the hero in the martial arts movie roasting a whole chicken over a flame in the wilderness, with overflowing fat, he would unconsciously salivate. He thought this was the most delicious thing in the world. Only now

did he understand that it was all an act.

Now Brandon wished he could have a pot of soup in front of him.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

But if I want to cook, I must first have a pot, but where to find a pot? Brandon supported his big

head with one palm and looked like he was thinking.

Just make one yourself. It seems, probably, it shouldn't be difficult. It seems like you just surround it with mud in the shape of a pot, and then use fire to dry it. Brandon, just do whatever comes to mind. This day is boring anyway, so just do something meaningful.

He found an open space and started digging the soil with both hands. The dust was flying. After digging out the rotten soil layer above, there was yellow clay inside. The soil seemed very fine, moist and adhesive.

This soil should be able to make pottery.

He carefully picked up a large pile of soil, and hurriedly ran back to the cave. He got some

water from the gourd and poured it on the soil, and it began to become moist. The soft soil was like flour. He kneaded it vigorously. Finally, the soil became more and more sticky, and pieces of it got stuck on his hands.

He carefully kneaded the soil into the shape of a pot. What made him speechless was that he didn't know whether it was because the soil was too soft or his skill was too poor. The pot looked crooked, and the entire edge of the pot was clearly leaning to one side, like a pile of mud that cannot be lifted.

Brandon didn't care about it. As long as it could hold water, it was already a success. He dug a deep circular pit in his hole and filled it with wood. Leaving a small open space in the middle, he carefully placed the severely deformed pot on the open space, ignited

the wood, and began to bake it in the fire.

The moist soil was gradually drying out, and he discovered a thorny problem. He quickly grabbed the soil under his feet and began to repair the cracks. His evolved body was obviously not afraid of these low-temperature flames.

After repairing the crack, he found that another one appeared. Brandon became furious. If you create a crack, I will repair it. I don’t believe it can’t be done.

Gradually, as the flames burned, there were more and more cracks. However, this pot

was obviously moved by his persistence. It burned for nearly four hours. During the process, he dug some soil outside, and the pot was finally heating successfully. But since the temperature of the flame was not very high, it was obvious that the pottery was not refined.

It is like the red bricks I had seen in my previous life.

It was covered with fine cracks. Its weight had far exceeded the standard, and the shape of the pot could no longer be seen, but for Brandon, these were obviously just small flaws.

He took the nearly 50 kilogram pot and hurried to the water pool to clean it. When he saw the giant snake in the pond fawning over him, he ignored it. He was now busy testing the effect of the pot. He filled the pot with water and found that it didn't leak. He was very excited.

He hurried back to the cave with the pot of water, put a zebra's leg in it, and started to light the firewood. He was very anxious. Half an hour later, his eyes were filled with tears.

What kind of pot was this? My precious soup became muddy water.

He smashed the ugly pot to pieces with one claw. Obviously a little angry, he looked at the pieces while thinking. It seems that I can't play with technical things, and what I am best at is simple and crude.

He secretly warned himself. I should not start coveting enjoyment just because my living conditions are better. I should always keep my thrifty style in mind. I will never do this kind of thing again. To be a lizard, I must act like a lizard.