Chapter 107
“I really have gained weight.” Bai Tu was absolutely certain—it was him who had gotten bigger, not the animal hide shrinking.
It took Lang Qi a long moment to find his voice. “No, you haven’t.”
Bai Tu didn’t believe him. He got up and went to find his summer clothes. Winter hides were thick and tailored loosely to allow for layering, making the change in his body less obvious. If not for that, he would have noticed the difference much sooner.
His summer clothes were stored elsewhere, but Lang Qi happened to be standing right in his way. Bai Tu reached out and tugged at him. “Go get my summer hides for me.”
Lang Qi didn’t move. Instead, he picked up the hide Bai Tu had left on the bed and draped it over him. “There’s too much stuff over there. I’ll get them later.”
Bai Tu glanced at Lang Qi but let him dress him without complaint. He reached up and touched Lang Qi’s forehead—it was just a little warmer than his own, a normal temperature.
“Do you still feel unwell?” he asked.
Lang Qi shook his head. “No, I feel fine now.” After speaking, he lowered his head and carefully nuzzled Bai Tu’s cheek.
Bai Tu rubbed his face in return. “Alright, go make breakfast.”
Seeing Bai Tu drop the idea of looking for summer clothes, Lang Qi let out a subtle breath of relief.
Bai Tu watched his back as he left, then looked down and pinched the flesh around his stomach, feeling a deep conviction that he really should eat less.
However, when he sat down at the table, he found that cutting back on food wasn’t an option. Recently, Lang Qi had been preparing meals that were not only more abundant but also of higher quality.
Breakfast was a bit lighter than other meals, but everything was something Bai Tu liked.
A moment ago, he had been considering eating less, yet he ended up having half a bowl more than yesterday’s lunch. After finishing, he rubbed his stomach and decided that instead of dieting, he should just increase his physical activity—because cutting back on food was simply impossible.
As he was thinking, he felt a tug on his clothes. Looking down, he saw the little gray wolf in Lang Qi’s arms.
Though it had grown a little, it was still tiny—barely the length of half an arm. But from the cub’s perspective, the space between them must have felt as wide as a small river. The little wolf was reaching out, trying to grab his arm, but its paws were too short and could only just barely touch him.
Bai Tu chuckled and offered the edge of his animal hide. The gray wolf immediately climbed up his body, clearly satisfied.
Lang Qi, however, remained still, only glancing at the cub twice.
Come to think of it, Lang Qi had changed quite a bit recently. In the past, he had almost never let him interact with the two cubs. Now, as long as they didn’t cling to Bai Tu for too long, he didn’t seem to mind.
Bai Tu pondered this change while rubbing the little gray wolf’s head. “What’s wrong?”
Perhaps because of the cold weather, the two cubs had been sleeping longer than usual lately. They often drifted off even while being held. It wasn’t common to see them this alert, let alone skipping their post-meal nap. Curious, Bai Tu gently pressed their little bellies. “Are you full?”
The little gray wolf let out a whimper, trying to say something. Then, realizing its voice didn’t sound like Bai Tu’s, it anxiously gripped his arm and started climbing toward his stomach.
Lang Qi swiftly picked up both the gray and black wolf cubs. “It’s time for bed.”
Bai Tu gave him a look—hadn’t he just been praising the cubs’ energy less than five minutes ago?
But since the cubs didn’t resist, Bai Tu didn’t bother arguing about Lang Qi taking them away so suddenly. He stayed outside for a while before heading off to check on Shi Ning.
Shi Ning’s condition had stabilized significantly. At the very least, she was eating again. She also didn’t resist when people came to add water to the incubator, though she still became alert at the slightest sound or movement outside.
Bai Tu asked how much milk the cub had consumed, and once he confirmed that aside from being a bit weak, the little lion was doing well, he felt relieved.
Since he was already out, he didn’t hurry back. Instead, he took Lang Qi to visit the area where the other cubs were housed.
Young cubs changed much faster than adult beastmen.
In just a month at the tribe, they had undergone a complete transformation. With ample food and proper nutrition, they still weren’t as chubby as the two little wolf cubs, but they looked much healthier and had far more energy.
Many had also grown bolder—at least half of them now knew how to ask the beastmen caring for them for food.
When they were first brought in, they were all skin and bones. A bath had helped a little, but their fur was dull and lifeless. Now, after a month, they couldn’t be called sleek and shiny yet, but they were definitely looking much better.
Due to differences in species, the size disparity among the cubs was enormous. Rabbit cubs and bear cubs could be several times apart in size.
To keep the smaller cubs safe, they were grouped with others of their kind, with similarly sized cubs placed nearby, arranged from smallest to largest.
Bear cubs were noticeably larger than those of other species and took up the most space. A variety of fluffy, chubby cubs were packed together, occasionally tumbling into small wrestling matches. Their round, clumsy movements made them irresistibly adorable.
The cubs were still uncoordinated and far less agile than adult beastmen. Their fights looked more like playful roughhousing than actual combat, especially when things didn’t go as planned.
One black bear cub grabbed its own foot and tugged at it with all its might, while another white cub pulled at its own fur, whining loudly as it struggled.
Bai Tu couldn’t help but laugh. He stepped forward and carefully untangled the white bear cub’s fur from its grip. Now pain-free, the little bear wobbled back to its feet and immediately rejoined the playful scuffle.
The white bear was likely a close relative of a polar bear—it was noticeably larger than the other bear cubs, giving it a clear advantage.
Bai Tu stood by and watched for a while, until a black-and-white cub clambered out from the pile of bears.
This one seemed far more relaxed than the others. It had half an apple in its mouth, completely unfazed by the chaos around it, calmly munching away.
Bai Tu chuckled and gave the panda cub a few rubs before patting the other cubs as he made his rounds.
Including the rabbit and cat cubs, there were over 200 young ones in total. Thankfully, aside from the youngest ones, most of them were quiet and easily entertained by a single toy.
Bai Tu considered making more toys for them.
The tribe already had a fair number of toys, but with so many cubs, there weren’t enough to go around.
Each cub only had one toy, and bigger toys like slides were in high demand, meaning they had to take turns for long periods before getting another chance to play.
Some toys had been made specifically for rabbit cubs, so the larger cubs couldn’t use them and could only watch enviously from the side.
The Red Eagle Tribe had a large population, but space was limited. Fortunately, the brick houses were spacious enough to fit bunk beds in addition to heated brick platforms for sleeping.
The woodworking team had been working tirelessly, their tools nearly worn out, but they had managed to finish making wooden beds a few days ago. Now, they no longer had to squeeze dozens of people onto a single heated platform.
Since the woodworking team was now available, Bai Tu decided to have them build a few more slides.
Slides were the simplest and most popular toy. He also planned to add some seesaws, though those required extra safety measures—only cubs over three years old who could shift into human form would be allowed to use them. Younger cubs had paws that were too short to grip properly, making it dangerous.
Although nothing special happened that day, Bai Tu was busy from morning to night, completely forgetting about finding his summer clothes.
That evening, the two of them returned to their room early to rest.
Lately, aside from the cold weather, nightfall had been coming much sooner. Once the sun set, even with glass windows, it was still too dark to do much.
Bai Tu usually avoided writing at night—without glasses in this era, developing nearsightedness would be a real problem. Since they ate dinner earlier, they naturally returned to their room earlier too.
Normally, he wouldn’t be sleepy at this hour, but after who-knows-how-long of massaging Lang Qi yesterday, exhaustion hit him a little sooner today.
Like hugging an oversized pillow, Bai Tu wrapped his arms around Lang Qi. He was already used to shifting into his beast form during the night, and waking up nestled in Lang Qi’s arms or on top of him was completely normal.
Naturally, he had no reservations about getting comfortable—especially since Lang Qi was so warm. The cozy environment made him even sleepier. Bai Tu yawned and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep.
Just as he was about to drift off, Lang Qi’s voice reached his ears.
“Tu, would you like your own cub?”
“Of course, I would.” Lang Qi’s tone was cautious, but Bai Tu, half-asleep, only caught the word cub and answered without thinking.
As soon as he replied, Lang Qi asked another question: “Would you ever abandon your own cub?”
“…How would I even have my own cub?” Bai Tu reached out and pinched Lang Qi, annoyed that he was interrupting his sleep while also rubbing salt in the wound.
Didn’t he understand that you don’t bring up someone’s shortcomings right to their face? They were literally lying in the same bed, and he had the nerve to ask about his cub—what kind of nonsense was that?
But Lang Qi was unusually persistent tonight. Even after getting pinched, he kept pressing, “What if you did have one?”
“If I did, then I’d think about it. But that has nothing to do with me.”
Silence followed. Bai Tu realized Lang Qi didn’t get the joke. Sighing, he opened his eyes and said, “If I did have my own cub, of course, I’d take good care of them. I’d make all kinds of delicious food and fun things for them.”
The whole conversation felt like those ‘If I gave you a billion dollars, what would you do?’ hypotheticals.
Fun to think about, but ultimately just a fantasy. Since he was completely incapable of having a cub, it was nothing more than wishful thinking.
If he weren’t so sleepy, he might’ve entertained the discussion longer, maybe even spent the whole night talking about how he’d raise a cub. But right now, he could only give a simple answer.
He had no idea why Lang Qi was suddenly thinking about this, but from the way he was asking, he was obviously serious. That made Bai Tu suspicious—was Lang Qi thinking about having cubs?
Maybe he should take him to the nursery cave in a few days. They couldn’t have their own, but they could adopt a few. With all the extra food and supplies they had, raising more cubs wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Lang Qi, however, was still whispering, “You really wouldn’t abandon them?”
Bai Tu rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Of course not. I’m not some lunatic like Shi Ken.”
Only an absolute madman would abandon their own child—anyone with a functioning brain wouldn’t even consider it.
“Really?”
“If you ask me again, I will get mad,” Bai Tu warned. He reached out, covered Lang Qi’s mouth, and said, “Shut up. Sleep.”
He didn’t want to listen to this nonsense any longer. Lang Qi was acting like they were actually going to have cubs, and Bai Tu had no interest in entertaining the fantasy. Right now, sleep was the priority.
Lang Qi didn’t say anything else. He simply placed a light kiss on Bai Tu’s palm before pulling him into his embrace.
Finally, silence. Bai Tu relaxed and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Since they had gone to bed early, Bai Tu woke up earlier than usual the next morning. When he opened his eyes, it was still dark outside, but Lang Qi was already awake, watching him.
Shifting back into his human form, Bai Tu reminded him, “Ze is coming over today. You’re not allowed to scare him again, got it?”
Lang Qi responded with a quiet acknowledgment before lowering his head to nuzzle against Bai Tu, clinging to him affectionately.
Bai Tu picked up Lang Qi’s clothes and handed them over, patting him on the shoulder. “Get up.”
Most of the tribe’s work had been settled, and everything that needed to be arranged had already been taken care of. Now, with winter entering its coldest phase, all that was left to do was stay inside the caves, eat whenever necessary, and wait for the season to pass.
In the past, this kind of easy winter was nothing more than a dream for the entire tribe. But now, they had achieved it effortlessly. There was plenty of food—more than enough to last.
The wolf tribe’s schedule was almost perfectly aligned with theirs. Lang Ze had sent word through the patrol team a few days ago, letting them know that as soon as he finished handling his remaining tasks, he would be coming over.
Today was the agreed-upon day, so Bai Tu decided to prepare early. He used to think the saying “teenage boys eat their parents poor” was just an exaggeration—until he met the wolf tribe. That belief was completely shattered. They really could eat.
So whenever he knew Lang Ze and the others were coming over, Bai Tu would start preparations early, ensuring there was enough food for them when they arrived.
Wolves were fast in their beast form, but their high speed came with high energy consumption. Unless they were in a hurry to leave, the first thing they did upon arrival was always eat.
Lang Qi was surprisingly cooperative today. In the past, whenever Lang Ze was about to visit, he would always look extremely displeased. But today, he took on all the work himself, even lifting up the cubs and placing them into Bai Tu’s arms.
“You take care of the cubs.”
Bai Tu glanced at the two groggy cubs, freshly woken up, then looked at Lang Qi helplessly. “Can’t you be a good example?”
They had been sleeping so soundly, yet Lang Qi had just yanked them up like that.
Lang Qi simply replied, “Sleeping too long makes you dumb.”
Bai Tu covered the cubs’ ears so they could go back to sleep, then quietly argued, “Do you realize how young they are? And how old you are? Why are you competing with cubs?”
Leaving aside whether or not that theory was even true, it definitely didn’t apply to cubs under three years old. At that age, sleep was critical for development.
Lang Qi opened his mouth slightly as if to say something but ultimately remained silent. He merely glanced at the two cubs who had fallen asleep even more comfortably in Bai Tu’s arms.
Lang Ze arrived even earlier than Bai Tu had expected. The moment he stepped inside, he immediately started complaining about how exhausted he was. But before he could even finish his first sentence, he caught sight of Lang Qi and immediately swallowed the rest of his words.
It felt like his brother had gotten even more intimidating in just a few days.
Nope, nope, this is bad.
Lang Ze carefully shuffled over to Bai Tu’s side. Whether it was before or after Lang Qi’s illness, this was the safest place to be. No matter how terrifying Lang Qi’s stare was, standing next to Bai Tu meant he had nothing to fear.
Today’s meal was incredibly lavish. Once Lang Ze confirmed his safety, he dug in without hesitation.
Bai Tu watched him devour huge mouthfuls of meat, feeling a bit envious. Lang Ze’s appetite was larger than that of most beastmen Bai Tu had ever seen. But no matter how much he ate, he had never once gained weight.
Lang Ze practically cleared half the table in minutes. During a brief pause, he noticed Bai Tu staring at him and shrank back slightly.
“Tu… Why are you looking at me like that?”
He wasn’t afraid of Bai Tu, but getting stared at too much could make someone else angry. Before Lang Qi’s illness, the worst his brother would do was give him a light beating—more for show than anything. But after the illness? That was a whole different story. He wouldn’t even hold back.
“You just look like you’re enjoying your food,” Bai Tu sighed.
He had already eaten a bit, but watching Lang Ze eat so heartily was making him drool. Today, Lang Qi had prepared a particularly enticing meal, and just looking at it made him hungry again.
Lang Ze picked up his chopsticks to keep eating, but when he noticed Bai Tu wasn’t moving, he frowned. “Tu, hurry up and eat. It’ll get cold.”
“I’m dieting,” Bai Tu replied.
Lang Ze was so shocked that his chopsticks slipped from his fingers. “You’re what???”
“Mm,” Bai Tu nodded. “I’ve gained weight.”
Although he hadn’t compared himself to his summer clothes, he could feel the difference—his stomach had definitely rounded out. If this continued, he’d be heading toward a beer belly at a very young age.
“That’s impossible!” Lang Ze immediately denied it. “You look just as thin as you did in summer!”
Grabbing Bai Tu’s arm, he examined it. “Look at yourself! Where are you fat?”
Then, after a quick comparison, he turned his gaze toward Lang Qi, looking utterly bewildered. “Brother… Are you not feeding Bai Tu enough?”
Most beastmen naturally ate more before winter and typically gained a little weight. But Bai Tu’s arms looked the same as they had in summer!
That night, after taking off his animal hide clothing, Bai Tu glanced down at his arms and wrists, falling into deep thought.
Lang Ze did have a point. Apart from his waistline, the rest of his body hadn’t changed much. In fact, even his waist hadn’t expanded much—it was just his stomach that had gotten noticeably rounder.
But normal weight gain didn’t happen like this.
Bai Tu placed a hand on his stomach, a terrifying thought creeping into his mind.
Lang Qi entered the bedroom just as Bai Tu, in a slightly panicked voice, blurted out:
“I think there’s something growing inside my stomach.”
It was hard to maintain his usual composure. No one could stay calm in a situation like this. In this era—without advanced medical equipment or operating rooms—if he had a tumor growing inside him, he was as good as dead.
Even though he had always considered himself relatively healthy, the more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. What if it’s malignant? What if it keeps growing?
Realizing he might have gone from being perfectly fine to a terminal patient in the span of a day, Bai Tu’s emotions became a tangled mess. He looked up at Lang Qi, his mind still reeling from the thought—just as he had been about to say something else…
As Bai Tu’s thoughts spiraled wildly, Lang Qi was also struggling to find the right words.
After a brief pause, Lang Qi spoke, his tone slightly hesitant. “How… how did you find out?”
Bai Tu assumed he was being doubted and pointed at his stomach. “Isn’t it obvious? Who gets fat only in their stomach from eating too much?”
Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Lang Qi nodded. “It’s been a month…”
Bai Tu blinked. “A month of what?”
“The cub… it’s been a month.” Lang Qi placed his hand on Bai Tu’s stomach, carefully stroking it through the animal hide. This was their cub—Bai Tu and his cub.
Bai Tu’s expression turned to stone. “…Cub???”
Was he understanding this correctly?
“Wait, explain properly. What cub?” Bai Tu knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he got to the bottom of this.
Lang Qi watched his stiff expression and gradually realized something was off. Thinking back on their conversation, he asked in confusion, “Didn’t you just say you knew?”
“I was talking about a tumor!!!” Bai Tu nearly choked on his own breath.
He had suspected he was sick, yet somehow, in Lang Qi’s mind, it wasn’t an illness—it was a cub?
For a moment, Bai Tu couldn’t decide which was harder to accept. He spent half the night wrestling with the absurdity of it all.
There was no way he was actually pregnant. This had to be a mistake.
Just before falling asleep, Bai Tu suddenly remembered something—certain animals in nature could experience false pregnancies due to environmental or hormonal factors, exhibiting all the symptoms of a real pregnancy but without actually carrying offspring.
The rabbit tribe had beastmen who had experienced this before—some had thought they were pregnant, only to find out at “birth” that it was all a false alarm.
That had to be what was happening to him.
Relieved at this new possibility, Bai Tu pushed aside the faint, inexplicable sense of disappointment creeping into his heart.
Reassured by his own logic, he finally closed his eyes and drifted off.
In his dreams, Bai Tu found himself standing in front of a tightly closed door. Three wolf cubs of different sizes were outside, desperately wanting to go in—but the door was completely sealed, as if no one was inside.
Aside from the three cubs, Bai Tu was the only one there.
This wasn’t the first time he had had a dream like this. The last two times, it had been just him and the cubs as well.
But this time, the cubs were visibly anxious.
The black cub was trying to find a way to open the door.
The white cub huddled in the corner, whimpering pitifully like an abandoned child.
The gray cub was torn between comforting the white one and helping the black one look for an entrance.
Bai Tu couldn’t understand—why were these adorable cubs locked outside?
Before he realized it, he had already walked forward, picking them up one by one.
The moment they saw him, the three cubs’ eyes lit up as if they had finally found the person they had been waiting for.
The white cub clung to him, whining like it had suffered the greatest grievance in the world.
The gray cub, slightly louder, also cried out—its tone unmistakably filled with distress and unease.
The black cub, usually the most composed, wasn’t as calm as before either, gripping Bai Tu’s clothes tightly.
Bai Tu looked from the shut door to the cubs in his arms.
Were they thrown out from inside?
Lowering his head, he gently nuzzled each cub in turn. Spending so much time around Lang Qi had taught him this gesture, and he couldn’t deny that cubs loved it. Sure enough, they quickly settled down, curling up against him and yawning one after another.
“Sleep,” Bai Tu whispered soothingly.
Even after dozing off, the white cub continued to whimper. Bai Tu gently patted its back until it quieted down. The gray cub snuggled up against the white one, quickly falling asleep.
The black cub was clearly exhausted too, but it stubbornly refused to sleep. Its little paws clutched onto Bai Tu’s animal hide, unwilling to let go.
For some reason, Bai Tu’s heart ached. He murmured softly, “Go to sleep, I’m right here.”
Hearing that, the black cub finally closed its eyes.
Once they were all asleep, Bai Tu adjusted his position so they would be more comfortable.
The door in front of him still wouldn’t open.
Concerned about the cold, he took off his outermost animal hide to cover them.
The moment he moved, the black cub’s eyes flew open.
Bai Tu instantly understood what it was thinking. He gave it two reassuring pats and said, “I’m here.”
Only then did the black cub close its eyes again.
Bai Tu let out a quiet sigh and tucked the cubs in securely.
Looking down at them nestled against him, he then glanced at his flat stomach.
Then back at the three cubs, who seemed entirely dependent on him—especially the black one.
He hesitated. Could these be… the children I gave birth to in my dream?
Thanks for the chapter~~