That day, he received a name: Mancai.
Yanzhu asked him what he was called. Confused, he inquired whether everyone was required to have a name. From birth until now, he had existed only here; there were no seasons and no concept of time. He and the other creatures of this wild expanse had lived in a wordless, harmonious existence for thousands of years, until the moment Yanzhu asked for his name.
"Names may not hold much inherent meaning, but meaning is something societies bestow upon one another. If you don’t have a name, how am I supposed to address you? Look, I’m just here to borrow a few things, but I’m happy to offer other items in return. A fair trade—how does that sound? Hey."
Chapter 111