I threw the giant frog's entrails directly down the cliff. That's the advantage of my dwelling; I don't have to worry about attracting predators whether I urinate or throw away trash at night.

This sheer cliff, tens of meters high, is an insurmountable barrier for those predatory animals; even if they find food scraps, they can't fly up.

I took out the leftover wooden boards from today's work and pieced them together to make a makeshift cutting board.

After rinsing the blood out of the giant frog's body, I placed it on the cutting board and began chopping it into small pieces with a cleaver.

I haven't had this broth frog meat in a long time. The last time I ate it was the kind of frogs I caught on the rice paddy ridges when I was a child.

When we were kids, we could catch frogs with flashlights—those old-fashioned tin flashlights with No. 1 lead-acid batteries. Or we could use bamboo poles with fishhooks attached, and fish out live earthworms to catch frogs.

Generally, the latter has a higher success rate. Frogs are very greedy and will swallow the hook whole. At this point, you only need to lift the rod and it won't be able to escape.

We would put the frogs we caught into a net bag that we had sewn ourselves from blue window screens, and then kill them the next day to make dinner with our family.

When I was a child, I felt that frog meat was the most delicious food. In order to catch more frogs, the children in the village would go out in groups of three or five.

The fields were filled with the bright orange glow of flashlights at night, creating a lively scene.

The city where I worked did sell frog meat, but my younger sister needed money for school at the time.

My mother, who farms at home, can't afford much, so most of the tuition fees fall on my older brother, who works away from home.

Today, let's make a pot of frog broth according to the recipe from my childhood, and relive the taste of my childhood.

Since it's a broth, it must contain bones. When I was a child, we would take out the spine of a frog and sauté it in hot oil.

Although I only have one frog here, its spine is equivalent to that of many other frogs. I've already chopped the spine into suitable pieces and set it aside separately from the frog meat.

I put a piece of lard in the pot, and as the flame heated it, the oil in the pot quickly started to smoke.

"laugh!"

With a hiss, I used a cleaver to pile up the giant frog's spine, along with some meat, and poured it into the boiling oil.

I quickly stir-fried the pork ribs with a wooden spatula. Soon the bones became charred and curled up, which was the result of them being stir-fried until crispy.

Next, add the chopped frog meat. Don't stir-fry the frog meat in the pot for too long; just stir-fry it until it's about 80% cooked, otherwise it will be tough.

This is why I stir-fry the pork spine first; the bones for making soup must be stir-fried until fragrant so that the broth will be rich and flavorful.

After stir-frying, I put the frog meat and spine into a bowl. Since the bowl wasn't big enough, I temporarily borrowed Top's bowl to hold the frog meat.

The two bowls were filled with a full two large bowls of frog meat.

I then added water to the pot and brought it to a boil over high heat. Once the water was boiling, I removed some firewood and reduced the heat to medium, keeping the water at a rolling boil.

Finally, I poured the two large bowls of frog meat back into the pot and simmered it for half an hour. I didn't have a lid on the pot at this point, otherwise the temperature would have been even higher and the result would have been even better.

Looks like I'll have to find some time tomorrow to make a pot lid.

After simmering over medium heat for half an hour, the frog meat has become tender and white, and the soup in the pot also exudes a rich aroma.

Sprinkle a handful of salt and chopped bright green rosemary leaves into the pot, and a pot of steaming, fragrant, milky-white broth with frog meat is ready.

Top likes taro, so I specially roasted a few by the fire.

Peel off the charred outer skin of the taro to reveal the white taro flesh inside, then put them into the pot to serve as a hot pot substitute for potatoes.

"Top, come and try the taste of my childhood." I picked up my chopsticks and beckoned Top to start eating.

Top and I sat around the earthen stove on the ground, each holding a bowl in one hand and using chopsticks to stick a steaming taro out of the pot with the other.

This time, Top didn't rush to put it in his mouth. He blew on it for a while and waited for the taro to cool down before taking a big bite.

The taro is still soft, sticky, and sweet, and now it has absorbed the essence of the frog meat and spine into the broth. The taste is simply heavenly.

As he ate, Top went from being elegant at the beginning to devouring the food like a mischievous monkey.

Seemingly dissatisfied with the lack of taro I had put in, Top put down his chopsticks and went to the corner where the taro was kept, picked out a few large taro, and threw them into the fire to roast.

This is the only cooking technique Top knows: simply throwing taro into the fire to roast. Once it softens, it's ready to eat.

Top's love for taro has even surpassed that for nuts and fruits. I've recently noticed it throwing taro into the fire whenever it has nothing to do, a skill it learned by watching me do it.

Looking at the warm and bright firelight before me, I smiled knowingly. Tomorrow the sun will still shine on this land, and my efforts will one day be rewarded.

The next morning, I woke Top up early as well, because there was still a lot to do that day.

First, the pottery needs to be fired, then some storage containers need to be made, because it's not good to leave the dried meat on the ground all the time.

Of course, things are far from over. I've always wanted to make another piece of armor similar to the spiked armor I made back in my hometown for self-defense, since the wild animals here are much fiercer than those back home.

With this life-saving item in hand, I feel more confident walking in the jungle.

However, having many ideas also requires time to put them into practice. Things must be done one step at a time, and one must eat one bite at a time. I've decided to focus on making the water storage containers that are most needed right now.

The only weakness of my dwelling is that it is a bit far from a water source. As long as I can fire a few large ceramic containers to store rainwater, I will not be trapped by water access in the event of some extreme situation.

In any case, it's always good to think things through more comprehensively, because being in this wilderness is ultimately a good thing, since no one can predict whether a surprise or an accident will come first.

Before firing the pottery, I learned from yesterday's lesson. Early in the morning, Top and I went to a forest to select suitable wood.

I don't plan to use too much wood for this shed; pieces about the size of a teacup will suffice.

Soon, a straight and slender log came into my view. I had seen this kind of tree before in Guangdong, where it is as common in the mountains as pine and fir trees are in southern China.

This tree is called eucalyptus. It is lightweight and sturdy, grows quickly and easily to form forests, so it is widely used in the construction and timber processing industries.

These eucalyptus trees, no thicker than an arm, are the perfect material for building my awning. Plus, they're lightweight, so I can carry three out at a time.