The Indians' celebration was simple and straightforward.
There were large chunks of animal meat, and they exuded an alluring fragrance of oil. There were also wild fruits of various colors and flavors, as well as plant stems that they could find.
Roasted meat and fruits formed the most primitive banquet of passion.
Fu Xi and Gong Hao even went to the boat to get white wine and gave each of the Indian men a glass. The mellow wine amazed them even more and they reveled in it.
After the banquet ended, many Indians were drunk and fell into a deep sleep in the camp. Gong Hao had also drunk a lot. His eyes were a little red, and his footsteps were unsteady. He allowed Fu Xi to help him onto the bed made of banana leaves.
"Aren't you uncomfortable drinking so much?" Fu Xi rebuked as she helped him take off his shoes and wanted to help him lie down.
Gong Hao grabbed her hand, his eyes filled with a doting smile. "Xi'er, don't go."
