Since there was still a lot of water in the earthenware basin where I was washing the starch, I simply patted all two pounds of minced meat into it and stirred it into a bowl of liquid mixture of meat and starch.

A local was tending the fire and boiling the brine in the pot. The brine had started to bubble and soon began to boil.

I carefully scooped out the mixed broth from my hand using a cup made of leaves and added it to the boiling salt water.

I watched for a while and realized it wasn't going to solidify. I wondered if the fire was too high and the water was constantly churning, not giving it a chance to solidify.

So I asked the local to move some of the firewood away and keep the fire low so it could simmer slowly.

This time, as I poured the mixed broth into my hand, I used a wooden stick to stir it in the pot to try to mix it evenly.

After they were mixed, I let them sit for a while. This time, something magical happened: a layer of grayish-white foam, like frangipani flowers, began to clump together on the surface of the water.

It's done!

I was a little excited, so I quickly added more of the mixed starch broth to the pot to neutralize some of the impurities in the water.

The high concentration of salt water likely resulted in more impurities than usual. Before long, a thick layer of grayish-white substance resembling steamed eggs condensed on the surface of the water.

I used a few sticks to pick out and throw away these clumps of stuff that had clumped together. Dante, watching from the side, looked puzzled and asked me in surprise,

"Sir, why did you throw away all the meat that was cooking in the pot? We could have eaten it."

"No, friend. You can't eat that. It will kill you. So from now on, you have to throw away any meat that comes out of this kind of salt water pot. You absolutely can't eat it."

I decided to make things sound more serious to avoid the indigenous people accidentally eating it out of curiosity and causing unnecessary trouble.

Dante was quite surprised to hear me say that. However, Dante trusted every word I said, and since I said that eating this meat would kill people, he absolutely believed that it was poisonous.

Dante mumbled something to the other natives, pointing at the chunks of meat in the pot. They all showed the same surprised expression and nodded repeatedly to indicate that they understood.

As the mixed broth in the hands was used to neutralize and absorb the salt water in the pot, the originally turbid salt water gradually became more transparent.

The flocculated lumps are becoming less and less, as most of the impurities inside are neutralized and adsorbed.

I only stopped working when nothing could be flocculated anymore; by then, I had used up most of my starch mixture.

It seems that neutralizing with concentrated salt water requires quite a bit of material. Luckily, I prepared extra beforehand. Otherwise, it would have been a huge embarrassment to run out of raw materials halfway through the reaction.

I continued to heat the remaining relatively clear liquid in the pot over low heat. At this point, the sodium chloride concentration was already very high. Once the water was boiled away, I could obtain coarse salt crystals.

As the water in the pot decreased, a thin layer of grayish-white crystals began to form on the surface, like frost.

I can confirm that these are salt crystal particles that precipitate out after the water content decreases.

At this point, I kept stirring the pot with the wooden stick. As the water level dropped, large bubbles began to rise in the salt water. Stirring with the wooden stick was to ensure that the salt water was heated more evenly.

Although everyone had seen me perform a similar operation using the blood of a deinosuchus before, they were still as excited as children doing a chemistry experiment for the first time when they saw this.

After boiling for a while, the brine was completely evaporated, leaving only about one kilogram of salt granules in the pot.

This was the first time I'd ever used raw mineral water to extract salt, so out of caution, I first dipped my hand in it and tasted it.

A strong, salty taste immediately filled my mouth, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the astringent taste was almost negligible. This proved that my salt was highly refined and safe to use.

Yesterday we stayed up a bit late, so the cut-up wild boar meat was only quickly dried on the surface and left to be smoked by the fire. Nobody remembers when it went out.

Now that we have salt, we can certainly find better ways to process it.

"Dante, take a few men and bring over all the wild boar meat we butchered yesterday. Also, bring the fat and lard along so Su Su can render the fat."

"Sir, our meat isn't dried yet; it's still being smoked. Would you like to cook it?"

When Dante heard me say that, he thought I wanted to take it and eat it.

"No, my friend. I'm planning to make something else delicious, we call it cured meat, it's much tastier than dried meat."

I laughed and corrected Dante's statement, indicating that it wasn't made to eat.

When I told them I was going to make something delicious again, and that it was cured meat they'd never even heard of, the natives perked up and quickly got up to go with Dante to get the meat from where it was kept.

Soon all the meat was brought over. They used five large earthenware basins to hold all the meat and carry it here.

I stored a large amount of salt in the dry bamboo tubes I brought, and left some salt in the pot to continue heating.

When the salt emitted a scorching heat, I rolled the pieces of meat I had cut into a few times in the salt, allowing the hot salt to quickly penetrate the meat.

The pork skin has already been perforated. We strung it together with palm leaves that we found on our way back, let it marinate naturally and air dry for three days. Once the moisture on it has dried, it can be put on a rack and smoked.

After finishing these preparations, Dante looked at the somewhat blackened salt in the pot and asked a question.

"Sir, do you still want the rest of the salt?"

After thinking for a moment, and adhering to the principle of not wasting anything, I still spoke to Dante.

"Let's find a place to store it first; we might need it later."

Dante nodded, then put the remaining salt in the pot into a small earthenware jar before putting it back in the house.

Everyone had been busy all day and was feeling quite tired. After a quick wash, they went to their respective rooms to sleep and rest.

The wild boars, starving all day, were grunting and groaning in the pit, seemingly quite dissatisfied. But now, looking at the deep pit, they couldn't climb out and could only circle around inside.

The next morning, Su Su used a ceramic basin to collect all the cassava scraps that had been used to wash the juice the day before, intending to feed them to the wild boars.

When I got up, I found Su Su preparing food for the wild boars. I called out to Su Su and then took a little bit of the salt that was left over from yesterday and sprinkled it into the cassava pulp.

Then they were mixed thoroughly by hand, as wild boars also need to obtain a certain amount of salt in their daily lives.