Transmigrating to the BeastWorld,I Picked Up an Adorable BeastHusband!-Chapter 63: Warming the fire

The cold didn’t just crawl into the cave; it felt as though it were being pulled in by the very stone itself.

As Ningning settled onto the furs, the usual ambient warmth of the earth felt drained, replaced by a hollow, sucking chill that made her teeth chatter before she could even pull the heavy hide over her shoulders.

"Doudou," she shivered, her breath blooming in a thick, silver cloud that lingered too long in the still air. "Check the external sensors. Why is the floor acting like a heat sink? It shouldn’t be this cold yet."

[Scanning...] Doudou’s voice was unusually solemn. [The barometric pressure is plummeting. While the ’Deep Freeze’ is still a fortnight away, we are experiencing a ’Dry Thermal Inversion.’

The heavy, cold air from the mountain peaks is cascading down the slopes and pooling in low-elevation basins. Our cave is effectively a bowl for the sky’s frost.]

Ningning curled closer to Weijie. He was like a great, cooling radiator. Usually, his skin was a furnace of metabolic activity, but now, his large frame felt like a damp slab of clay.

The transition into brumation was robbing him of his ability to regulate his surface temperature.

"If the temperature drops this fast." Ningning whispered, her eyes fixed on the charcoal blueprints on the wall, "my salt-mud won’t cure. It’ll freeze. If the water in the mud turns to ice before the salt can stabilize the matrix, the whole kiln wall will just shatter like glass when I try to heat it."

She looked at her hands. They were raw, the salt she had handled earlier stinging in the microscopic cuts across her knuckles.

She thought of the winter clothes she had briefly considered, the heavy pelts that needed tailoring. She wasn’t just building a kiln for the wood anymore; she was realizing that the cave itself was a hostile environment.

"I need to prioritize the ’Thermal Curtain’ for the entrance," she noted, her mind racing despite the exhaustion. "And I need a way to keep the mud warm while I mix it. Doudou, map out a pre-heating station. I’ll use the flat river stones near the hearth as a griddle to keep the mud above five degrees Celsius while I apply it."

[Strategic addition noted, Dumpling. However, look at your husband. His respiration has dropped to four breaths per minute.]

Ningning reached out, placing a palm against Weijie’s chest. The slow, rhythmic thud of his heart was so deep it felt like it was coming from the floor of the cave itself. He was slipping away into a state where he would no longer be a partner, but a passenger.

"The winter clothes." she sighed, closing her eyes. "I’ll have to make them while the salt-mud is drying. I can’t waste a single hour of daylight tomorrow. I’ll have to haul the remaining sections of Tree Two, mix the plaster, build the ramp, and seal the alcove."

She realized that if she didn’t finish the tunic soon, she wouldn’t have the dexterity to work. Her fingers were already becoming stiff.

She needed to trap her own body heat just as much as she needed to trap the heat for the wood. She imagined the "T-Shirt" cut Doudou had suggested, thick fur against her skin, sinew-sewn seams that wouldn’t let the wind whistle through.

"Tomorrow is for the kiln," she told herself, the words becoming a mantra. "The day after is for the clothes. The day after that... Tree Three."

The fire popped, a single spark jumping onto the stone floor and dying instantly.

The darkness of the cave felt absolute, save for the faint, flickering orange glow of the embers.

As sleep finally began to pull her down, her last conscious thought was of the salt.

She could almost hear it, thousands of tiny crystals waiting to drink the moisture from the air, a silent, chemical army standing guard over their winter hoard.

The morning arrived with a thin, grey light that barely touched the back of the cave.

Ningning didn’t wake up energized; she woke up because the tip of her nose felt like a piece of ice. She stayed under the furs for a moment, listening to the silence.

Usually, she’d hear the local birds or the rustle of the forest, but today, everything sounded muffled.

Beside her, Weijie was out cold. He wasn’t hibernating; he was just completely exhausted from hauling those massive iron-oak logs the day before. He looked like a statue that had decided to take a nap.

"Doudou, let’s stick to the plan.." Ningning whispered, her voice a bit raspy. "Today is for the mud."

[Understood, Ningning. Your survey from last night identified a silt deposit at the back of the cave. It’s the best source for the base of your salt-mud mix.]

"Okay, scrap the back of the cave idea." Ningning said, looking at the stone floor.

"If I dig in here, I’m just going to destabilize the floor and mess with our structural integrity. Plus, the silt here is too wet. I need it to be slightly drier to mix in the salt properly."

She looked towards the cave entrance.

The sky was pale, clear blue, and while the air was cold, it wasn’t below freezing yet. It was brisk.

"Doudou, where’s the closest deposit outside?"

[Based on the geological mapping, the nearest alluvial deposit is about 50 meters downhill, near the creek bed. It’s a mix of fine silt and clay.]

Ningning nodded, grabbing her largest clay pot and the bone shovel. "Downhill means uphill on the way back with a heavy load. Great."

She walked out of the cave, the cold air hitting her face.

It was refreshing, at least. She made her way down the slope to the creek, where the water had left behind patches of soft, grey mud.

It was better than the cave silt, less water, more clay.

She worked quickly, filling the pot. It was heavy, but manageable.

As she hauled the pot back up the slope, her breath coming in short, sharp clouds, she thought about the logistics.

The mud was outside, and it was cold.

"Doudou, the moment this hits the air in the cave, it’s going to cool down instantly. How am I supposed to mix this with the salt and limestone if the mud is freezing?"

[You’ll need a proper fire pit setup, Ningning. Not just a campfire. You need to create a thermal base.]

She reached the cave mouth, panting, and set the pot down near the entrance.

Weijie was still fast asleep, completely oblivious to her struggle.

"Okay," she breathed, looking at the pot of mud and then at the fire pit in the center of the cave. "Step one: Mud is here. Step two: Get that fire roaring so I can heat the mixing stones."

Ningning decided to prioritize the fire. If she hauled all the mud now and let it sit in the cold, it would turn into a stiff, unworkable block before she could even get the salt into it.

"Fire first," she grunted, wiped her muddy hands on her leggings, and stepped toward the center of the cave.

"Doudou, I need a high-output flame. If I’m going to use those river stones as a griddle for the mud, they need to be soaking up heat for at least an hour."

[Logical choice, Ningning. Your core temperature is also dropping from the damp mud on your clothes. Drying out now will prevent a late-afternoon crash.]

She knelt by the fire pit and began clearing out the old ash. She didn’t just throw a few logs on; she built a "log cabin" structure with dry iron-oak kindling in the center to ensure maximum airflow.

Soon, the flames were roaring, casting a bright, orange glow that actually made the cave look cozy for a change.

She began dragging the flat stones she’d collected into the heat. She arranged them carefully around the flames like a puzzle, creating a flat, stone countertop.

"Okay, the stones are pre-heating." Ningning said, standing up and stretching her sore back. She looked toward the cave entrance. The pot of mud she’d just hauled up was sitting there like a challenge.

[The stones will reach the target temperature of 15°C in approximately twenty minutes] Doudou noted. [That gives you a small window.]

Ningning looked at the empty pots.

She still needed at least two more loads from the creek to have enough for the first phase of the kiln wall.

Her muscles were already protesting, but the fire was doing its job, and the cave was finally starting to feel like a workshop instead of a tomb.

"I’ll get the second load." she decided. "I’ll do it while I’m already warmed up from the fire. By the time I get back, the stones will be ready for the first mix."

She grabbed the empty pots and headed back out into the crisp morning air.

The walk down was easier, but the creek bank was getting slippery where she’d already been digging.