Chapter 116
Those who were familiar with Bai Tu knew that he would occasionally say words that others couldn’t understand. Sometimes he would explain, sometimes he wouldn’t—it all depended on his mood and how busy he was at the time.
However, Bai Tu had a good temper. Even if he didn’t explain at the moment, he would still answer if asked later.
When Bai Tu first started calling himself “Daddy” while coaxing the cubs, Lang Qi had no idea what the term meant. It was only after hearing Bai Tu’s explanation that he realized something was off about how the cubs addressed them. If both were called “Father,” that was fine. If both were called “Uncle,” that was fine too. But one being called “Father” and the other “Uncle”? That was definitely not right.
That very night, after learning the meaning behind the terms, Lang Qi started teaching the two cubs to correct their way of addressing them.
Lang Qi taught them “Daddy” and “Father,” while Bai Tu taught them “Uncle.” The two cubs had only recently gained the ability to shift into human form and were still adjusting to their new bodies. With the two adults teaching them completely different things, they ended up only managing to learn the simpler terms—”Daddy” and “Uncle.” The slightly more complex “Father” was still beyond them.
Lang Qi had initially planned to secretly train the cubs while Bai Tu wasn’t around. However, just as he was in the middle of his lesson, Bai Tu returned and caught him in the act.
Lang Qi had been so focused on teaching the cubs that he hadn’t noticed Bai Tu approaching. Bai Tu had intentionally kept his steps light, and it was only when the cubs got overly excited that Lang Qi finally realized Bai Tu was back.
Lang Qi, who had been squatting by the bed teaching the cubs, cleared his throat and stood up. As soon as he did, he caught the scent of multiple cubs on Bai Tu, and his movements paused slightly.
The scent of cubs was much fainter than that of adult beastmen. For Bai Tu to have picked up so many scents, it meant he had been around other cubs for quite some time. Lang Qi glanced down at the three sleeping cubs before speaking, “It’s cold outside. Take a bath first.” With that, he led Bai Tu away from the cubs.
Bai Tu, who hadn’t even had the chance to ask anything: “???”
“You have the scent of other cubs on you. They won’t like it,” Lang Qi explained as he reinforced the barriers around the bed to prevent the two crawling cubs from climbing down.
Bai Tu recalled that he had indeed interacted with many cubs earlier. Although he himself didn’t notice anything strange, cubs seemed to have particularly sharp noses—they could even distinguish their own relatives by scent. So it made sense that Lang Qi was concerned.
Thinking of this, Bai Tu glanced at the two cubs excitedly waving at him and reassured them in a soft voice, “Be good, babies. Uncle will come back to hug you soon.”
Just as he was about to head to the bathroom, Lang Qi followed. Before Bai Tu could say anything, Lang Qi spoke first, “Let’s just have them call us ‘Daddy’ from now on.”
“Hm?” Bai Tu was startled. The issue of how the cubs addressed them was neither trivial nor insignificant. After all, these cubs were the children of the former Wolf King. If they started calling them “Daddy,” how would they explain it if someone asked in the future?
“In the tribe, orphaned cubs are often adopted by their parents’ siblings, and their way of addressing them sometimes changes accordingly,” Lang Qi explained. “Do you not like them?”
“Of course not!” Bai Tu refuted immediately. If he didn’t like them, why would he have taken care of them for so long? These two wolf cubs were the ones he had cared for the longest. Ever since they were brought to him, they had barely left his sight. Even when he went to the market, he took them along. After spending so much time together, even a block of ice would have warmed up to them, let alone him—who had liked cubs from the very beginning.
“That’s good,” Lang Qi said, feeling reassured. He then started preparing warm water for Bai Tu’s bath.
Before Bai Tu could say anything, Lang Qi was already busy. Even if he had a heart of stone, it wouldn’t feel right to argue at this point. It wasn’t until he sank into the warm bath that a thought suddenly struck him—what did his feelings for the cubs have to do with calling himself “Daddy”? Even if they called him “Uncle,” he would still like them all the same! Feelings didn’t change just because of a title.
But it was clear that Lang Qi preferred the cubs to call them “Daddy” and “Father.”
When Bai Tu finished his bath and came out drying his hair, he could still hear Lang Qi teaching them.
Before, Lang Qi would avoid doing this in front of him, but now he didn’t even bother hiding it and was openly instructing the cubs.
However, the cubs were no longer interested in learning the unfamiliar term. They were single-mindedly focused on finding Bai Tu.
Bai Tu stood there in silence for a few seconds before moving to a warmer spot nearby, watching as the three—uncle and nephews—engaged in their little battle of wits.
For cubs this young, pronouncing “Father” was still a bit difficult. On Beast God Continent, cubs didn’t grow at a uniform rate, and children of the same age group could develop differently from what Bai Tu had seen in his past life.
For example, right now, these three-year-old wolf cubs, in their human forms, were about the same as one-year-old human children. However, their human growth would soon accelerate, and they would mature at a faster pace until reaching adulthood around seventeen or eighteen.
The cubs had just been blowing bubbles at Lang Qi when they saw Bai Tu approach. Their gazes immediately locked onto him, completely unmoving.
A moment later, one of them slowly rolled over and started crawling toward Bai Tu. The other quickly followed.
Bai Tu was sitting a little far from the cubs. One of them became anxious, crawled forward twice, then suddenly stopped. Its two legs slowly exerted force as it carefully stood up.
Bai Tu, who had been deep in thought, was instantly overjoyed. For beastman cubs, learning to walk on two legs was much harder than for human children. After all, they had already been walking for three years before their first transformation into human form. Even a habit formed over three months was hard to break, let alone three years. And given how young they were, they couldn’t fully understand instructions, making the learning process even more time-consuming.
Understanding that cubs needed time to adapt to their human forms, Bai Tu hadn’t rushed to teach them. Instead, he let them explore at their own pace while offering guidance when necessary. Now, watching the wobbly little figure stumbling toward him, he stretched out his hands and took a few steps forward to meet it.
The other cub saw its sibling standing up and grew even more anxious, immediately trying to imitate the movement. The moment it managed to stand, its first instinct was to throw itself toward Bai Tu.
“Daddy!” After days of practice, the pronunciation of these two syllables was now perfectly clear. So far, no other words the cubs had spoken had been as distinct as this.
Bai Tu had originally wanted to argue with Lang Qi a bit more about the naming issue, but seeing the cubs tottering toward him, he realized that hearing this title felt different.
Holding the two little ones in his arms, Bai Tu thought to himself, Daddy it is, then. When they grow up and understand things better, I’ll explain it to them properly.
Lang Qi noticed that Bai Tu’s hair was still damp. He picked up a clean towel from the side and began drying it for him.
The towel was soft, seemingly made of the same material as the blankets they slept on. Bai Tu sighed, “I hope we can find sheep or long-haired cattle next year.” The first batch of blankets and similar products had been made from beastmen’s shed fur—collected over years, sometimes even decades. But that stock was now used up, and the finished products weren’t enough for everyone to have their own set.
Gathering enough fur again within a year was impossible, as the amount shed annually was limited. They would definitely need to find alternative sources.
Lang Qi listened attentively, occasionally asking about the characteristics of sheep.
Bai Tu explained and even sketched a simple drawing. Lang Qi studied the drawing thoughtfully.
“What’s wrong?” Bai Tu asked, curious. Just moments ago, Lang Qi had been actively engaging in the conversation. Why had he suddenly gone quiet?
“I’ve seen this kind of sheep before,” Lang Qi said. “Further north, beyond the Northern Continent. The weather there is even colder than here.”
“Then we’ll check with Xiao when he arrives and see if we can capture a few,” Bai Tu said. As long as they existed, he could breed them himself and expand their numbers. Woolen textiles were far more practical than beast pelts.
The cubs didn’t understand their conversation. They only knew that their daddy’s attention had shifted away from them. Dissatisfied, they immediately clung to Bai Tu’s clothes, trying to climb up.
However, the difference in weight between their beast forms and human forms was drastic—over ten times. In beast form, a cub weighing just a couple of kilos was easy for Bai Tu to hold. But in human form, they were nearly ten kilos each and constantly wriggling, making things much more difficult.
“Alright, alright, play on the bed. Be good, no climbing on my shoulders.” Bai Tu gently set them down on the bed and sat beside them to keep them entertained.
“What time did they eat?” Bai Tu asked Lang Qi. He had been out for a few hours. He reached out to feel the cubs’ stomachs, but young children digested food quickly, making it hard to tell. At least they weren’t bloated.
Lang Qi glanced at the nearby hourglass. “Three hours ago. I’ll make something now.” Seeing that Bai Tu’s hair was mostly dry, he put the towel away and gave Bai Tu a quick kiss at the corner of his lips. “What do you want to eat?”
The cubs’ meals were always the same few options—Lang Qi didn’t try to get creative with them. But when it came to Bai Tu, no matter how troublesome the dish was, he wanted to make it.
Bai Tu hesitated. He couldn’t immediately think of anything. They had already eaten most of the available foods. The vegetables dried or blanched before winter had all been used up. Nothing stood out as particularly appealing.
Ultimately, it all came down to the lack of seasonings. Right now, the tribe’s only spices were the ones Bai Tu had collected before winter—scallions, ginger, garlic, Sichuan peppercorns, cumin, salt, and honey. There was nothing else.
He had thought about this problem before but hadn’t had the opportunity to address it. For now, he asked Lang Qi to check what ingredients were left and cook something simple, while he started contemplating how to gather more seasonings.
The easiest ones to make were vinegar, soy sauce, and alcohol. The methods for all three were quite similar, mainly involving fermentation, with differences in raw materials and specific steps.
Bai Tu initially planned to postpone making alcohol. After all, the tribe had previously shared some of its food supplies with the Leopard Tribe, then lent some to the Yellow Lion and Deer Tribes. They didn’t yet have the surplus to waste resources casually. However, aside from drinking, alcohol also had another important use—disinfection. Since it would be useful in the future, he decided to make all three at the same time.
The ingredients for making alcohol were quite varied—wheat, sorghum, corn, and rice could all be used. Soy sauce required soybeans, while vinegar could be made from many things. But since they didn’t have any fruits at the moment, they could only use rice.
The last time they had gone to the market, they had indeed brought back some rice and soybeans. However, given the number of people in the tribe, the quantity was negligible. Additionally, Bai Tu planned to set aside some as seeds, so he hadn’t used them for food.
They had consumed a lot of wheat over the winter, but since they had brought back quite a bit, there were still several large baskets left. These were far more than what was needed for planting, and since they wouldn’t be brewing a huge batch at the start, just experimenting in small quantities, they had enough for now.
With the grain secured and plenty of tools in the tribe, Bai Tu began considering the other essential ingredients: vinegar starter, koji mold for soy sauce, yeast for alcohol, and general fermentation yeast. In modern times, these could be purchased in just two or three days, but making them from scratch would take at least ten. To save time, Bai Tu decided to prepare all of them simultaneously.
The principles behind making these fermentation starters were quite similar—creating a suitable environment for airborne microorganisms to proliferate while carefully controlling harmful bacteria to prevent spoilage or toxicity. Even though he knew the general process, Bai Tu divided the raw materials into separate portions, using only a small amount for initial testing.
Making vinegar starter was relatively simple. He steamed wheat bran, spread it over clean straw, and then let it naturally cultivate the necessary microorganisms.
For soy sauce koji, he steamed soybeans, coated them with wheat flour, and set them aside in a controlled space for fermentation.
Alcohol yeast was the most complex to make, requiring several plant-based ingredients. With the land covered in snow and ice, finding fresh plants outside was impossible, but fortunately, Bai Tu had a stockpile. He ground up various plants, including Water Pepper flowers, mixed them with rice flour, shaped the mixture into small cakes, and placed them in a warm environment to develop yeast cultures.
As for general yeast, though Bai Tu had never specifically made it before, he had already been using a natural fermentation process. For example, when the tribe made steamed buns with wheat flour, they relied on natural fermentation since they had no commercial yeast. It simply took longer for the dough to rise, but the final product was still good. This time, the yeast-making process followed a similar method—kneading the dough and allowing it to ferment naturally. Once fermentation started, he would add water and cornmeal for a second fermentation. If necessary, he would continue feeding it with more cornmeal.
Typically, a warmer environment was best for making fermentation starters, but waiting for the temperature to rise naturally would take nearly two months. Instead, Bai Tu moved all the ingredients into an empty bedroom next door. No one was living in it, and the temperature was relatively warm. Rather than leaving it unused, it was the perfect place for fermentation.
Over the next few days, Lang Qi noticed a significant change—Bai Tu was spending far less time with the cubs, let alone with him. Almost half of his day was spent inside that neighboring room, busy with something.
However, after observing the room for a while, Lang Qi couldn’t see anything inside other than some food supplies. The only noticeable difference was a strange smell lingering in the air.
Under Lang Qi’s curious gaze, Bai Tu carefully took out the prepared fermentation starters, sorted them into separate ceramic jars, sealed them tightly, and finally tied small wooden tags to each with string.
Lang Qi thought that this would be the end of it, but to his surprise, Bai Tu had even more work lined up—not only for himself but also for the idle members of the tribe.
Lang Qi had initially assumed that Bai Tu would stay inside the cave until winter was over, but after a brief moment of silence, he made a decisive choice—he grabbed a few cubs and followed along. While taking care of the cubs, he also memorized the steps of Bai Tu’s plan. In just three days, he was already able to assist Bai Tu efficiently.
Many in the tribe had been idle for most of the winter. Suddenly being assigned work again, though reasonable, naturally made some of them feel reluctant. Some even considered complaining to Bai Tu.
After all, Bai Tu was well known for his good temper. If they exaggerated their struggles and acted pitiful, even if their contribution points didn’t increase, he would likely compensate them in other ways.
However, before they could even put their little scheme into action, they noticed something—Lang Qi wasn’t just bringing the cubs along, he was working harder than any of them. In an instant, their entire perspective on Bai Tu changed.
Even the leader of the Wolf Tribe was diligently working under Bai Tu’s direction—how could they dare to slack off? Moreover, Lang Qi was staying right by Bai Tu’s side, barely leaving him for a moment. If they even attempted to complain, they’d probably be under Lang Qi’s sharp gaze before they could finish a single sentence.
Lang Qi’s possessiveness was as famous as Bai Tu’s kindness. Taking the risk of getting on Lang Qi’s bad side just to negotiate better treatment? They weren’t that foolish. Even the wolves of the Wolf Tribe were obedient in Lang Qi’s presence—let alone the others.
Bai Tu had anticipated that after a long winter of rest, getting back to work would come with some challenges. However, to his surprise, everyone was unexpectedly cooperative. On the very first day, the progress was even faster than he had planned.
Seeing their effort, Bai Tu naturally wouldn’t let them go unrewarded. All working beastmen would receive the same food rations as the patrol team.
Throughout the winter, the hardest workers in the Snow Rabbit Tribe had been the patrol team. In the past, food in the tribe had been scarce, and whether patrols happened or not didn’t really matter—as long as no enemies attacked their home, everything was fine.
But this year, the tribe had plenty of food. Even with the Wolf Tribe’s protection, Bai An had expanded the patrol team several times, making sure they circled the territory every two to three days.
In such freezing weather, who wouldn’t prefer to stay warm inside the caves? But the tribe needed protection, so the patrol team’s treatment had been significantly improved—not just in food, but also in clothing and contribution points. They were given everything they needed.
While there was plenty of food in the tribe, it was distributed differently. Those who didn’t work received more grains in their meals, while the patrol team’s rations consisted almost entirely of meat. Yet, no one complained. Everyone understood how exhausting it was to patrol in this weather, and anyone who wanted the same treatment could simply join the patrol team and earn it.
At first, some had doubts about having to work before winter was even over, but with Lang Qi present, they didn’t dare voice them. It wasn’t until they received their food in the evening and noticed the difference in rations that they realized Bai Tu had already accounted for their effort.
In the end, whether it was summer or winter, everything boiled down to having enough to eat. Good food meant good morale. The next day, everyone worked even harder than before.
Watching the beastmen busily working under Bai Tu’s organization, Bai An couldn’t help but feel skeptical. Are these really the same people who used to hate leaving their caves in winter, spending the entire season curled up inside?
This year, the caves had been modified with heated platforms, making them even more comfortable than before. Apart from a few essential tasks, most work had been put on hold after the snowfall. This was the first newly assigned task of the season.
Worried that Bai Tu alone wouldn’t be able to manage so many beastmen, Bai An had originally been surveying the central area that Bai Tu had mapped out. When he heard that Bai Tu had begun organizing work, he quickly wrapped up his task, ate something, and rushed back—only to find that everyone was working diligently.
The laziness he had been concerned about was nowhere to be seen.
When Bai Tu saw Bai An return, he walked straight over and took the terrain map Bai An had drawn, beginning to study it.
Calling it a terrain map was a bit of an overstatement—it was as simple as it could get, with various symbols marking slopes and depressions.
The area as a whole could be considered a plain, but there were still some variations in elevation. Bai Tu adjusted the layout accordingly to minimize everyone’s workload—for example, placing buildings that required height on existing slopes rather than artificially elevating them.
Using woolen thread, he crafted a simple measuring tape and handed it to Bai An, instructing him to record the height and size of the slopes. Since the ground was still covered in a layer of ice, they hadn’t started surveying the lower areas yet, but they marked a few prominent slopes for now.
Though they were called slopes, they were only about three to four meters high. If the beastmen worked together, they could level them within a few days. Since they lacked proper transport tools at the moment, Bai Tu tried to reduce their labor as much as possible, making use of the terrain wherever he could. However, some slopes needed to be flattened entirely, prompting Bai Tu to consider making simple transport carts.
There were many types of carts, but given the need for material transport once they began construction on the residential areas, Bai Tu decided to start with wheelbarrows and flatbed carts.
Both could be used by a single person or multiple people working together. These were common tools in old rural areas. Bai Tu had seen flatbed carts being used when he was a child, though as he grew up, they became rarer, appearing mostly in documentaries or period dramas. Flatbed carts required at least two wheels, whereas wheelbarrows, as the name suggested, only needed one, making them suitable for smaller loads.
Since Hei Xiao would be bringing rubber later, Bai Tu didn’t waste time. He immediately assigned the woodworkers to begin making the frames for both types of carts, while the blacksmiths were tasked with crafting the wheels. The final products would still be usable even without rubber, though their lifespan would be shorter, as the wheels would deform relatively quickly.
But Bai Tu wasn’t in a hurry—this was just the initial phase. Once Hei Xiao arrived with the rubber, they could upgrade the designs.
Originally, Bai Tu had only planned to make seasonings and alcohol, but as he got to work, he realized there were far too many useful things to produce.
By now, the weather was no longer as bitterly cold as it had been. The first two days were a bit tough, but after that, everyone gradually adjusted to working outdoors.
After all, this wasn’t their first harsh winter. A month ago, they had survived temperatures that could freeze a person to death—now, it was just a little chilly. Besides, Bai Tu had moved as much work as possible indoors, leaving only the tasks that absolutely had to be done outside. People took turns working, so it wasn’t too difficult to endure.
Even while the snow and ice outside hadn’t fully melted, the entire tribe had already become active. After a whole winter of rest, both their strength and stamina had noticeably improved compared to the previous year.
After working for a few days, people started realizing that they actually needed the activity.
Previously, they had spent most of their time either alone or with their partners inside the caves, and no one had noticed the changes in themselves. This was especially true for those who lived alone—most of their days had consisted of eating and sleeping, with the only trips outside being to collect food.
Without realizing it, more than two months had passed like this.
Since the trips to collect food were brief, and the food distributors were used to seeing the same faces, no one had pointed anything out. But now, as people who hadn’t seen each other for two months met again, they all noticed one thing—everyone had gained weight.
In past winters, people spent half their time hungry and the other half sleeping. Even if they did nothing, it was already fortunate if they didn’t lose weight—gaining weight was out of the question.
But this year, even the youngest cubs had full bellies, with the tribe providing them with nutritious food like goat’s milk. As for the beastmen who had been working, they had no limits on their food intake as long as they had earned enough contribution points.
After nearly an entire winter of eating well, the changes were obvious.
At first, everyone was happy—gaining weight was a good sign. But then, they started realizing that their speed had noticeably decreased.
Even without gaining weight, staying inactive for a whole winter would have slowed them down. Now that they had grown rounder, the effect was even more pronounced.
Slower speed meant it would be harder to catch prey. A group discussion quickly led to the conclusion that they needed to eat less and work more to regain their agility.
However, the initial sense of urgency didn’t last long.
If only one person had changed, they might have panicked. But since everyone had changed, they gradually relaxed.
No need to worry—after all, they weren’t alone in this.
Thank you for the chapter!
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