Starting from Robinson Crusoe

The first celebration by the Indigenous in the "New World" was drawing to a close amidst the flickering bonfire.

A half-moon hung in the sky, shredded clouds accompanying the brilliant stars watching over the people on the hillside.

The zebra stroked his round belly, looking at the last small piece of fried fish on the plate, wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, and reluctantly glanced at Sunday who announced the end of the feast.

To be honest, he felt he could still eat more.

Of course, he wasn't alone in these thoughts; all the Indigenous who enjoyed the delicacies shared his sentiment.

The lively atmosphere fell into a brief lull after the feast ended.

Soon, as Saturday brought the Leader's new orders—they could take the leftovers and enjoy them over the next few days.

The Indigenous were again engulfed in a new wave of joy.

With excitement and gratitude, they began picking out their favorite foods.

Some loved eating grilled fish, others adored desserts, some were passionate about fruits, while others fell in love with spicy, colorful stir-fried dishes...

"What a wonderful day!"

All the Indigenous thought this.

Though the tribal language might lack a word for wonderful, at this very moment, they genuinely understood the concept of wonderful.

To aid the Indigenous in preserving food, Chen Zhou generously provided them with two large wooden boxes and advised them to consume the leftovers as quickly as possible.

The island was sweltering, causing food to spoil quickly, and if the Indigenous saved the tasty delights, it could likely lead to food poisoning, which was not worth it.

...

When all the dishes on the long table were swept clean, the Indigenous, under Saturday's command, placed the plates and bowls, basins, and canisters into the wooden boxes, preparing to return to their gathering place.

Chen Zhou, the new Leader who hadn't shown himself throughout the feast, finally pushed open the kiln courtyard door and stepped out.

His attire was drastically different from usual.

He wore a thin short-sleeve on top, and shorts on the bottom; if he didn't have boots but wore slippers, he would resemble modern people ninety percent.

Having engaged in physical labor for years, with adequate nutritional supply in his diet, it was only when Chen Zhou removed his outerwear that the Indigenous could visually grasp how strong their "New Leader" truly was.

Chen Zhou's arms were thicker than their thighs, and his broad shoulders almost equaled the combined width of two Indigenous bodies.

Just by standing tall, even without holding a weapon, the Indigenous could still sense that their Leader must be an unbeatable warrior.

...

Having not worn such light clothes in a long time, Chen Zhou even felt slightly uncomfortable when the mountain wind blew.

Stepping forth, he walked to the hillside not far from the Indigenous, and as their eyes gathered on him, he announced the official commencement of the final event of the festival—gift giving.

Having harbored anticipation for a while, Saturday and Sunday felt overwhelming joy upon hearing Chen Zhou's words.

Nonetheless, having lived with the Indigenous for so long, they understood somewhat that as leaders, they mustn't show emotions on their faces; hence, even with joy within, their expressions remained as a blank as everyone else's.

These two pretended not to react, but the Indigenous truly didn't understand.

Chen Zhou spoke in Mandarin, and among the Indigenous, the zebra who knew the most Mandarin vocabulary only compared to a three-year-old child.

"Gift" was a word he heard for the first time, facing such an unfamiliar sentence, he could only roughly interpret it as getting another type of thing.

"A new tool? To help us dig earth and chop trees faster?"

As he pondered what might be given this time, zebra saw Chen Zhou summon Saturday over, whispering some instructions.

...

After a brief wait, Saturday returned to the long table carrying a wooden box.

The bonfire's fuel was still abundant, under the bright light, Saturday opened the wooden box, retrieving pairs of shoes.

These ceremonial outfits distributed during the day and then collected in the afternoon found their way back to the Indigenous at night.

Except for the zebra, who belonged to the "shoed clan," all the Indigenous received their pair of shoes.

While distributing shoes, Saturday explained to them what a "festival" was and what "gift" meant.

Having understood that the shoes were a blessing from the Leader, all the Indigenous felt surprise, even fear, at this unexpected gain.

In their original tribe, working diligently never earned any rewards.

Only the bravest warriors occasionally received gifts from the Leader, maybe a few chunks of cooked meat, or special permission to enjoy women kidnapped from other tribes.

Yet brave warriors were, after all, very few.

Fighting and killing in conflicts carried enormous risks, even if surviving after killing the enemy this time, the next time might not guarantee retreat.

Most Indigenous Warriors had never received the Leader's favor since birth.

But today, in this island where they had just lived for more than twenty days, they all enjoyed a treatment they hadn't received for most of their previous lives.

A big table full of delicacies, a night of rest, now receiving shoes.

Holding the "gift" distributed by Saturday in their hands, the Indigenous appeared at a loss.

At this critical moment, it was still zebra, the one with a simple face but a keen mind, who reacted first as a leader.

Though he hadn't received new shoes, his hands were empty, yet his reaction was absolutely the most enthusiastic.

Ignoring the risk of dirtying his clothes, he immediately mimicked Saturday and Sunday's usual gesture of pledging allegiance to Chen Zhou, kneeling on one knee, placing his fist on his chest.