Chapter 121
Even though he was reluctant to leave, Hei Yan had to consider the other eagles. With great reluctance, he left, leaving Hei Xiao and a few hawk warriors behind to protect him.
In reality, protection wasn’t even necessary. Hei Xiao wasn’t familiar with many people and now spent most of his time in the cave.
With Hei Xiao around, Bai Tu found it incredibly convenient—he could ask him about things he hadn’t known before, anytime, anywhere. Sometimes, Bai Tu didn’t even have to ask; Hei Xiao would explain things on his own.
For instance, the nature of the wolf cubs’ species. To ensure their safety, when beastmen of different species became mates, all the younglings in the same litter—regardless of how many—would typically be of the same species. If there were three cubs, their sizes might vary slightly, but they would all belong to the wolf tribe.
Bai Tu thought about the bears and rabbits of the same age in the tribe and immediately understood the logic. The size difference between beast forms of different species was enormous, and the gap would be even greater among wolf cubs. If littermates were of different species, the larger ones could easily hurt the smaller ones.
Hei Xiao glanced at the incubator and let out a small sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Bai Tu followed his gaze. The incubator was fine—nothing seemed out of place.
“Hawk tribe cubs tend to bully their littermates until only one remains,” Hei Xiao said. He naturally wanted all three eggs to hatch successfully, but that would come with its own problems. Hawk tribe cubs instinctively eliminate their siblings, pushing them out of the nest until only one remains, ensuring that all the parents’ food goes to them alone.
Because of this behavior, hawk tribe younglings almost never have siblings. The upside was that those who survived were exceptionally strong.
“That’s an easy fix—just separate them into compartments,” Bai Tu suggested. It wasn’t a difficult problem. The cubs just needed to be placed in separate nests, with dividers between them. A wooden box with individual sections would work just fine. Bai Tu knew that some younglings had the instinct to attack their siblings as a survival strategy. Such cubs had to be raised separately—forcing them together would only lead to conflict. While their attacks were weak, younglings were fragile, and constant fighting wasn’t ideal, even if none were pushed out of the nest.
Hei Xiao looked at the barriers around the bed and nodded. That was indeed a viable solution.
Just then, two slightly older wolf cubs shifted into their human forms and climbed into Bai Tu’s arms, rubbing against him to get his attention.
Bai Tu looked down. “What’s wrong?”
One of the cubs pointed at the incubator.
When the eggs were inside, their scent was nearly undetectable from the outside. However, whenever Bai Tu opened the lid to check the temperature and humidity, the scent was released, and the wolf cubs picked up on it. Previously, when Bai Tu looked after the eggs, he had kept them farther away, but now the incubator was right beside them. The wolf cubs had noticed the presence of unfamiliar younglings and were feeling restless.
Wolf cubs were more sensitive than adult beastmen. The moment they detected a strange cub’s scent in their territory, they became highly alert. They had easily accepted the three small wolf cubs before because they were blood relatives and carried Bai Tu’s scent. But these three eggs were completely different—even a different species.
Hei Xiao noticed their reaction and immediately moved the incubator farther away. Sure enough, the two wolf cubs calmed down.
“So territorial?” Bai Tu chuckled at the sudden change in their attitude. Hei Xiao had just explained to him that different species or even different litters of cubs might reject each other, and these two had just proven the theory in real-time.
Previously, Bai Tu had only interacted with wolf cubs that were either from the same litter or had blood relations. Those without kinship bonds had spent so much time in the same cave that they no longer behaved like typical wild wolf cubs. Additionally, rabbit and feline tribe cubs had always been raised separately in their shared caves, so he had never noticed this behavior before.
“It’s just their natural instincts,” Hei Xiao said, unsurprised. After all, hawk tribe cubs displayed this behavior even more aggressively. Compared to them, these wolf cubs were practically mild—merely unhappy about a foreign cub’s presence in their cave.
“It all comes down to food scarcity in the past,” Bai Tu mused, ruffling the fur of the two wolf cubs. Their territorial nature was ultimately a survival strategy. If resources were scarce, raising only one cub instead of several increased the odds of survival. Over generations, this behavior had been ingrained and passed down. It was simply natural selection at work.
The wolf cubs had no idea they were being discussed. Satisfied that the foreign scent had been moved away from Bai Tu, they happily pounced into his arms, babbling to each other in a language only they could understand.
Whether it was an instinctive connection between littermates or a unique language of young wolf cubs, the adults couldn’t understand them, but they seemed to comprehend each other perfectly, chirping and whining in their own way. Occasionally, a recognizable word or name would slip out.
The slightly older wolf cubs, now more familiar with Hei Xiao, had even started calling him something—just as they addressed Lang Qi and Lang Ze. They called him “Uncle.”
Apparently, they found “Uncle” easier to say than “Elder Brother,” as if the latter was somehow too difficult to pronounce. Bai Tu had tried to teach them the proper term twice, but they never changed it, so he eventually gave up.
Their stubborn refusal to call Lang Qi “Father” was also telling. It wasn’t that they couldn’t say it—they simply didn’t want to. When it came to names they did want to say—like “Dad”—they picked them up immediately after hearing them once.
Although the two of them had to keep the wolf cubs company, they weren’t neglecting their responsibilities. The hawk warriors who had been left behind by Hei Yan to guard Hei Xiao were promptly sent by Hei Xiao to the mining and kiln areas. Even if they weren’t learning the skills right away, getting them accustomed to the environment was important. Sooner or later, their tribe would need to use these resources.
After assigning the task of gathering cotton seeds, Bai Tu began modifying the wheels of carts and wheelbarrows. The rubber that Hei Xiao had brought wasn’t just useful for improving wheels—it could also be used to make shoes.
Currently, more than half of the beastmen in the tribe still disliked wearing shoes. During winter, this habit had started to change, as they would wrap their feet in worn-out animal hides or wear wooden or woven grass shoes. However, now that the weather was warming up and their feet weren’t freezing anymore, many people immediately ditched their shoes and resumed walking barefoot.
Walking barefoot was convenient, but it also made them prone to injuries from sharp branches or stones. When Bai Tu had first arrived, almost no one in the tribe wore shoes. The situation had improved slightly since then, but shoes were still fragile and inconvenient, so most people only wore them in winter.
Bai Tu also found the current shoes too flimsy. For someone like him, who didn’t walk much, they were fine. But for someone like Bai Qi, who patrolled the area, shoes would wear out quickly—sometimes needing to be replaced once or twice a day. And for someone like Lang Ze, who was constantly running around, the need was even greater. However, the young wolf cubs preferred to sprint around in their beast forms, which saved them from this issue.
Rubber-made shoes were much softer than wooden soles, more durable than woven grass shoes, and could be sized more precisely during production. Even without modern manufacturing techniques, a pair of rubber shoes would last far longer than grass shoes.
Once they started using the rubber, Bai Tu realized that the supply was indeed a bit limited. But that was fine—his initial plan was to use the first batch for practice, with the main goal being to teach the Black Hawk Tribe beastmen how to make them.
According to Hei Xiao, the Black Hawk Tribe had an abundance of these trees—so many that they were interfering with hunting. Bai Tu figured there was no need to plant rubber trees on their side. The land here was better suited for growing other crops. The production of rubber goods could be left to the Black Hawk Tribe, who would then send them over in exchange for other resources.
There was no need to relocate every useful plant to one place. Unlike mulberry trees, which could be harvested within a year, rubber trees took at least six or seven years to mature and produce usable latex. It would be a waste of time and effort to clear existing trees just to plant new ones. Besides, rubber trees would likely grow slower here than in the Black Hawk Tribe’s territory. The southern continent was slightly warmer—the winters still brought snow, but the snowfall came later and melted earlier.
Rubber was easy to shape when heated, but the temperature had to be carefully controlled. Fortunately, the beastmen had already become highly skilled at regulating temperatures for other crafts, so Bai Tu didn’t need to explain much. He only had to instruct them on when to pour the rubber into the prepared molds.
A few days later, the first rubber-soled shoes were completed. Though they were the simplest version, they were immediately popular.
Elderly beastmen, who had walked barefoot for decades and had thick calluses and numerous scars on their feet, were indifferent to the new shoes—they barely felt pain when stepping on rough terrain anyway. However, the young and adolescent beastmen loved them. They walked long distances daily and often got scratched by unseen sharp objects. The thick rubber soles provided protection, preventing even small stones from piercing through. The shoes were both safe and lightweight, making them an instant favorite.
Rubber shoes were also easy to clean—unlike animal hide, which would become stiff and unusable if not properly dried after getting wet. Rubber shoes could be twisted and flexed without damage, as long as they weren’t deliberately cut or scratched with nails. They were waterproof and combined the best qualities of various materials.
Bai Tu also used rubber to improve the incubators and hatch boxes. He reinforced areas that were previously held together with wood, improving the seal while eliminating noise, making the space more comfortable for both newborn and unhatched cubs.
Spring passed in the blink of an eye. Just as Bai Tu felt that he had organized all the necessary planting tasks, the temperature had already risen to nearly 30 degrees Celsius.
After experiencing last year’s scorching summer, 30 degrees was still tolerable, but all beastmen, including the younglings, had noticeably become lazier. Tasks requiring beast form were now done in short bursts, followed by resting in a cool spot. While their thick fur was cozy in the winter, it became a hassle in the summer. Many beastmen wished they could shave off all their fur—it was just too hot.
Since shaving was impossible, the next best thing happened: everyone started shedding.
Bai Tu knew that animals shed their fur in summer, and he had seen it happen last year. But his knowledge had been limited—he hadn’t fully grasped just how much fur a beastman would shed. Given their large size and thick coats, it was no surprise that they would lose an immense amount of fur. In winter, rolling around in their fur was comfortable, but that also meant there was now a massive amount to shed.
Bai Tu’s own beast form was small, with a soft and fine coat that provided decent comfort but lacked the thick insulation others had. The upside was that he barely shed in summer, and whatever little fur he lost was barely noticeable.
Larger beastmen weren’t as fortunate. Lang Qi quietly replaced several broken combs in their room.
Bai Tu didn’t realize the reason until later that night, when Lang Qi shifted into his beast form. The already massive wolf had grown even larger, and every time he moved, tufts of fur floated into the air. Only then did Bai Tu understand what was happening.
What else could he do? This was his mate—of course, he had to help groom him.
Bai Tu had always known that Lang Qi was big, but only now did he get a clearer sense of his size. It took so much effort just to comb him once that he was utterly exhausted by the end.
Fortunately, Lang Qi rarely stayed in his beast form during the day, and even when he did, he took care to avoid tangles. Since their cave had a bathing area, his fur remained smooth and sleek—like satin, though not as soft.
During shedding season, a single brushing wasn’t enough. Bai Tu’s workload increased once more—he now had to groom Lang Qi every night before bed.
Lang Ze happened to witness this once and became incredibly envious. The next day, he found a small wolf cub to help groom him. That night, Lang Ze’s anguished howls echoed across half the tribe.
It wasn’t just Lang Ze—most of the young wolves had a similar experience. Bai Tu had introduced combs after the rainy season last year, when most of the shedding had already passed. At that time, the remaining fur was sparse, and combing felt more like a gentle massage than a painful experience. Everyone had quickly grown to enjoy it.
However, this year was different. Coming straight out of winter, the beastmen had the thickest and densest coats of the year. This heavy winter fur was what allowed them to survive the cold, and now it was beginning to shed. The young wolves, who loved running around and playing, often ended up with tangled fur, even if they looked clean on the surface.
The wooden combs were breaking too quickly. With the increase in iron tools in the tribe, Bai Tu had designed metal combs and had Bai Hui craft them. Bai Hui was highly skilled, and the iron combs he made were far more durable. After three days of grooming Lang Qi, the iron comb Bai Tu used was still intact, with barely any signs of wear.
Previously, young wolves had groomed each other, using force when necessary. The result? The wolves were fine, but the combs kept breaking. This year, when they encountered tangled fur, they used the same brute-force method—but this time, it wasn’t the combs that suffered, it was them.
The next day, Lang Ze came to Bai Tu, looking pitiful. He pulled down his collar, revealing a reddened patch on his shoulder.
Apparently, the little wolf who had been “helping” him had tugged so hard that he had ripped out an entire chunk of fur.
Bai Tu couldn’t help but laugh. He mixed some plant extracts into a completely natural conditioner. “Take a bath first, then apply this before combing,” he instructed.
The young wolves were all clean, but matted fur couldn’t be untangled by washing alone. Force wasn’t the solution either. If they didn’t comb it out properly, the entire tribe would soon be covered in loose fur. To avoid finding stray fur in their food bowls, Bai Tu had to come up with a solution. The simple conditioner would help smooth the fur, making it easier to detangle with gentle combing.
“Make sure to collect the fur after brushing—don’t just throw it away,” Bai Tu reminded them. Beastmen were large in their animal forms, and the amount of shed fur was measured in pounds. If they simply discarded it, the wind would scatter it everywhere. The best approach was to collect it all and hand it over to the weaving team.
“I know!” Lang Ze eagerly agreed. The fur could be exchanged for tribe points, and he certainly wouldn’t waste such a valuable resource!
After Lang Ze left, Bai Tu pulled out a much smaller comb compared to the others. It was made of wood, with more densely packed teeth—designed specifically for young wolf cubs.
“Time for grooming, babies,” Bai Tu called out.
The two larger wolf cubs immediately perked up and ran into his arms.
It wasn’t just adult beastmen who enjoyed grooming—young cubs did too. They had already experienced it once before, but unlike the adults, they couldn’t be brushed as frequently. It had been two days since their last grooming, and now they were all staring at the comb, eagerly waiting for Bai Tu to groom them again.
Bai Tu started with the largest little black wolf, gently lifting it onto his lap before slowly combing its fur. All the shed fur was carefully collected in a separate container.
He did the same for the other cubs, keeping their fur stored separately with labeled tags to avoid mixing them up in the future.
Lang Qi was a bit puzzled by Bai Tu’s habit of collecting all the shed fur, but he didn’t question it.
Ever since Hei Xiao had explained more about Lang Qi’s habits, Bai Tu had been paying closer attention to his behavior. Noticing his confusion, Bai Tu took the initiative to explain: “I’m saving all of this fur, and once there’s enough, I’ll make a life-sized stuffed toy, about the same size as the cubs. It’ll be like their current toys, except this one will be made from their own fur instead of wood. It’ll be soft and fluffy.”
What Bai Tu had in mind was similar to modern felted wool toys, but using the cubs’ own fur would give it a special significance. That’s why he had been carefully storing each cub’s fur separately.
Lang Qi listened attentively, occasionally nodding in agreement, seeming to find the idea interesting.
“By the way, do you still have the fur you shed as a child?” Bai Tu suddenly asked. Since Lang Qi had no littermates, his shed fur should have been kept separately, right? Even if there wasn’t any left from his childhood, fur from when he was a bit older would work too.
The fur he had combed from Lang Qi over the past few days wasn’t enough to make a large stuffed wolf. That’s right—Bai Tu planned to practice using Lang Qi’s fur first. After all, he had only seen others make these kinds of toys before but had never actually done it himself. He wasn’t sure how well he could pull it off. The cubs’ shed fur was far too little—each brushing only yielded a small handful. Even if he continued collecting for years, it wouldn’t be enough to make a proper-sized toy. He needed extra fur for practice.
Lang Qi, on the other hand, shed much more, and the quality of his fur was excellent. Bai Tu planned to make two toys—one small, about the size of a wolf cub, and one large, about the size of a pillow. The larger one could be kept in their room as decoration or used for cuddling. Either way, it sounded like a great idea.
For some reason, Bai Tu felt that the fur he combed from Lang Qi was softer than the rest. It was incredibly comfortable to the touch—if he turned it into a pillow, it would surely be warm and cozy in the winter.
Lang Qi was silent for a moment after hearing Bai Tu’s question. His gaze flickered toward the wardrobe, which now stored animal hides that were only used in winter, before he finally answered, “I threw it away.”
“You threw it away?” Bai Tu was surprised. He had assumed that, given Lang Qi’s habits, he wouldn’t mix his own fur with others’ and would have kept it separate. He hadn’t expected him to discard it entirely.
“Alright then,” Bai Tu said after a moment. “I’ll start with a small one first and keep collecting until I have enough for a bigger one.”
Since there was no fur left from the past and what he had now wasn’t enough for a large stuffed wolf, he would begin with a smaller one. In any case, the cubs’ toys would take a long time to complete, so there was no rush.
Even if the fur got mixed up later, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Unlike real animals, both beastmen and wolf cubs could recognize which fur was theirs and even say so.
Lang Qi glanced at Bai Tu, then at the labeled boxes filled with collected fur. He didn’t say anything, but that night, before going to sleep, he looked at the wardrobe again.
It was only a few days later that Bai Tu made a realization—the texture of the fur he combed from Lang Qi felt exactly the same as the fur in the winter blanket he had been using.
Previously, Bai Tu had only thought that the fur from Lang Qi and the winter blanket felt equally soft. He hadn’t considered any deeper implications.
However, he started noticing a pattern—after each grooming session, Lang Qi would shift back into human form, carefully gathering all the shed fur to ensure not a single strand remained on the bed. He never mixed his own fur with the wolf cubs’ fur. Doing this for a day or two was one thing, but he kept it up consistently. That’s when Bai Tu started feeling that something was off. Given Lang Qi’s meticulous habits and personality, how could he have simply thrown away all the fur he had shed over the past twenty years?
Even Lang Ze, who was far less reliable, had kept his shed fur until the tribe needed it. Though the young wolves ended up contributing less fur than the adults due to various factors, it was clear that no one casually discarded their fur. It made no sense that Lang Qi, the most stable and composed of them all, would be the only one who had thrown his away.
If he hadn’t discarded it but also wasn’t willing to take it out now, then the only logical conclusion was that he had already used it.
Considering how incredibly soft Lang Qi’s fur felt, Bai Tu had a good guess. Even though the cave was no longer as cold as it had been in winter, Bai Tu still enjoyed running his hands through the fur while organizing it. The more he collected, the more familiar the texture felt. He had only handled a limited number of items over the winter, and fur felt completely different from regular animal hides. That made it easy to connect it to something he had been using frequently—the winter blanket.
If it had just been the texture, Bai Tu might have remained uncertain. But the color was also nearly identical.
A beastman’s undercoat, unlike the coarser outer layer of fur, was much softer and mainly served to provide insulation. Its color was typically gray or white, varying in shade.
When the tribe had first started collecting and weaving fur, all the gathered strands had been cleaned and spun together, resulting in a final product with a uniform, grayish-white hue, often featuring subtle gray patterns.
But the blanket Bai Tu had been using was pure gray.
This suggested two possibilities—either someone had painstakingly gathered fur from several beastmen with the exact same shade of gray, or a single person had taken all of their accumulated fur and used it to make a blanket.
The first possibility was highly unlikely. After all, since the tribe had started weaving fur blankets, Bai Tu hadn’t seen anyone suddenly go bald.
That left only one possibility.
Bai Tu ran his hand over the blanket, then compared it to the newly brushed fur, finally letting out a satisfied sigh. No wonder he had always felt that this blanket was extra comfortable—it must have carried Lang Qi’s scent. He couldn’t quite explain why, but ever since winter, he always felt more at ease when he was near Lang Qi.
Even after figuring out where the fur had gone, Bai Tu had no intention of taking the blanket apart. He would still need it next winter. Better to keep collecting for now—Lang Qi was big enough that, with a few more grooming sessions, he’d eventually gather enough fur.
Bai Tu wondered when Lang Qi had secretly arranged for the weaving team to make the blanket. Instead of putting it back in its usual place, Bai Tu moved it to the foot of the bed.
When Lang Qi returned and saw the blanket, he paused for a brief moment—an action Bai Tu, who had been watching closely, immediately caught.
As usual, Lang Qi first walked over to Bai Tu and hugged him before checking on the cubs. His gaze never returned to the blanket, as if that slight hesitation earlier had been nothing but Bai Tu’s imagination.
“Qi, I think this blanket is the most comfortable one,” Bai Tu suddenly said.
Lang Qi, in the middle of holding a cub, froze. He hadn’t expected Bai Tu to say that. Even though Bai Tu was complimenting the blanket and not him, the words still sent a sweet warmth through his heart.
“Really?” Lang Qi’s voice was calm, as if he weren’t affected at all.
“Where did you trade for it?” Bai Tu continued. “I wonder if I can get another one of the same quality. I checked the other blankets in the tribe, but none feel as good as this one.”
“I don’t remember,” Lang Qi replied, his tone still steady. “You probably won’t be able to find another like it.”
His voice remained neutral, but inside, he was filled with joy. His hands trembled slightly as he held the cub—this was the second time Bai Tu had ever complimented him!
The first time had been long ago, before they had even confirmed their relationship. It had been so long.
“Sigh,” Bai Tu let out a dramatic sigh, as if truly disappointed. After a moment, he added slowly, “I guess I’ll just have to use this one, then.”
Lang Qi, caught up in his happiness, suddenly sensed something was off. He turned to look at Bai Tu. “Use it for what?”
“To wrap the cubs in,” Bai Tu explained. “My brother’s cave is colder than ours, and the incubator’s temperature drops too quickly in there. A blanket might help.”
When Hei Xiao had returned, he had moved into another cave. Though the rooms in Bai Tu’s cave were partitioned, Hei Xiao didn’t want to stay there permanently. Coincidentally, there was an empty cave nearby, so after discussing it with Bai Tu, he moved in.
That cave had remained unused throughout the winter, only serving as storage. Naturally, its temperature wasn’t as warm as the one Bai Tu’s group lived in, where they had been constantly heating the stone beds.
Lang Qi instantly froze.
He had never expected that Bai Tu’s compliment was just a prelude to giving the blanket away.
That night, after Bai Tu fell asleep holding the wolf cubs, Lang Qi quietly got out of bed, took the blanket from the wardrobe, left the room for a while, and then returned, placing a different blanket inside.
The next morning, as Bai Tu muttered about giving Hei Xiao a blanket, he opened the wardrobe and reached in—only to immediately realize that the blanket had been swapped overnight.
At first glance, the new blanket looked nearly identical to the original, but Bai Tu had spent an entire evening examining it closely. Plus, after sleeping under the same blanket all winter, he could instantly feel the difference in texture. Retracting his hand, he turned to Lang Qi, who was watching him expectantly, and said, “I just remembered—this blanket has been used all winter. It wouldn’t be right to give it away. I’ll grab a new one from the other room instead.”
Lang Qi: “…”
Lang Qi wasn’t foolish. He hadn’t fully processed Bai Tu’s words last night, but now that Bai Tu was backing out of sending the blanket at the last moment—especially after noticing the swap—while wearing a barely concealed smile, it all clicked.
Without a word, Lang Qi lunged at Bai Tu like a predatory wolf, pinning him beneath him.
“When did you figure it out?” he murmured near Bai Tu’s ear, careful to keep his voice low so as not to wake the cubs. He didn’t want to lose this rare moment of having Bai Tu to himself.
Bai Tu, feeling a tickle in his ear, shifted slightly. “Yesterday.”
Lang Qi’s eyes darkened. He kissed Bai Tu’s face, intending to do more, but when he glanced at the wolf cubs sleeping in a pile nearby, he sighed internally.
“When will they grow up?” Lang Qi muttered, his voice laced with both grievance and frustration. “They always steal you from me.”
Bai Tu, amused, couldn’t help but indulge him. “Come on now, you’re a grown adult, and you’re still jealous of the cubs? They’re just learning from you.”
Bai Tu had seen it clearly—this possessiveness the cubs displayed didn’t come from nowhere. The two older cubs had spent a lot of time around Lang Qi and had picked up on his habits, mimicking them. The three younger cubs had simply inherited it. And yet, here Lang Qi was, complaining about their behavior when, in truth, he was no different. The only difference was that Lang Qi knew how to hide his emotions, revealing them only in rare moments—like when he had been sick. The cubs, on the other hand, were too young to mask their feelings and simply expressed them openly.
Lang Qi met Bai Tu’s gaze without denying his words. Instead, he simply leaned in and bit Bai Tu’s lip in retaliation.
Bai Tu winced and kicked him lightly. “Biting again?!”
The last time he hadn’t paid attention, Lang Qi had bitten him hard enough to leave a mark—one that Hei Xiao had eventually noticed. And now, he was doing it again.
Even after being kicked, Lang Qi didn’t let go. He placed another lingering kiss near Bai Tu’s ear. Only when one of the cubs stirred did he finally sigh and release him.
“I want to send them all to daycare,” Lang Qi suddenly said.
Bai Tu: “…”
Bai Tu: “They’re not even a year old!”
The two older cubs, who could shift into human form, could go to daycare, but the other three? They weren’t even four months old yet! What kind of father was this?
“And you still expect them to call you ‘Father’?” Bai Tu scolded.
“They don’t call me that anyway,” Lang Qi retorted. Seeing that the cubs were still asleep, he nuzzled Bai Tu’s face again. When the cubs were awake, Bai Tu belonged entirely to them. Only at times like this could Lang Qi have him all to himself.
“But they don’t call anyone else that either,” Bai Tu defended. “They’ll come around when they’re older.”
At first, Bai Tu had also thought the cubs were deliberately avoiding calling Lang Qi “Father,” but after observing them for a while, he realized they truly just didn’t understand yet.
Though the two older cubs weren’t as attached to Lang Qi as they were to Bai Tu, it was clear that they still held him in higher regard than anyone else.
When it came to how the cubs addressed people, aside from Bai Tu, they called everyone else “Uncle,” regardless of age. It didn’t matter if the person was older or younger—even Bai An was “Uncle.” One moment, they’d call Bai An “Uncle,” and the next, they’d turn around and call Bai Qi the same, effectively making a father and son part of the same generation.
Bai Tu had tried to correct them a few times but eventually realized the truth—the cubs were simply being lazy. If they learned different titles, they’d have to use different terms for different people. But by sticking to one word, it was much easier. So, in their world, Bai Tu was “Dad,” and everyone else was “Uncle”—all they needed to recognize was Bai Tu.
Even after realizing the little ones were just taking the easy way out, Bai Tu couldn’t bring himself to scold them. After all, they were still so young—just barely learning to walk. Even if they occasionally understood what adults were saying, complex reasoning was beyond them. Rules and traditions didn’t apply to cubs this small. Bai Tu barely had enough time to dote on them—there was no way he could get mad over something as trivial as a title. Besides, no one else seemed to mind either.
Even Lang Qi, despite his occasional complaints, still answered when they called him “Uncle.”
Of course, Bai Tu would never say this to Lang Qi outright—he still valued his own well-being. Instead, he kissed Lang Qi lightly at the corner of his lips, as if to pacify him. “Alright, when they’re older, I’ll teach them properly, okay? How could they not call you ‘Father’? That’s unacceptable!”
Lang Qi narrowed his eyes at Bai Tu’s obvious insincerity before suddenly murmuring, “A father’s debt is repaid by his son.”
“Hmm? What did you say?” Bai Tu hadn’t quite caught it.
But Lang Qi had no intention of repeating himself. Instead, he rubbed his head against Bai Tu’s, then pulled him up from the bed. “I’ll tell you tonight.”
“So secretive,” Bai Tu muttered, but he let it go. Sitting up, he glanced at the cubs—three of them were already awake, and the remaining two would be up soon. “Go make breakfast,” he said, scooping up the little ones and nudging Lang Qi lightly with his foot.
And so, their day as doting parents began with breakfast.
“Mm.” The weather was getting hotter, and the temperature near the stove was even worse. Recently, Lang Qi had stopped letting Bai Tu cook—he prepared all the meals for both the cubs and the two of them.
Glancing at the little ones, Lang Qi took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from Bai Tu while they weren’t looking before finally leaving the room.
Bai Tu sighed in exasperation. He seriously suspected that wolves had evolved from dogs—what kind of wolf was this clingy?
Just then, the smallest gray wolf cub, who had just woken up, began wriggling in Bai Tu’s arms, trying to climb up. Bai Tu carefully freed a hand to support him, making sure he didn’t slip.
With determined little grunts, the gray cub managed to clamber up to Bai Tu’s collar—and promptly planted a slobbery kiss on his chin.
The white cub, watching closely, decided to copy his sibling’s actions. He, too, tried to climb up—but being the smallest and weakest, he only made it two steps before getting stuck, letting out a soft whimper.
Bai Tu, already familiar with this routine, effortlessly picked him up and placed him on his shoulder. The second he settled in, he immediately nuzzled against Bai Tu’s cheek and gave him a kiss.
Bai Tu sighed and put the two affectionate cubs down, only to meet the gaze of the black cub.
If any of them resembled Lang Qi the most, it was this one. Unlike the others, he never scrambled up to kiss Bai Tu. Instead, he simply sat there, staring at him in quiet expectation. His big eyes held a silent plea that was impossible to ignore.
Bai Tu: “…”
What else could he do? He was his cub—of course, he had to spoil him too.
So, he lifted the black cub onto his other shoulder. Unlike his siblings, the black cub didn’t move or nuzzle him. He just clung to Bai Tu’s shirt with a steady grip, waiting patiently.
But Bai Tu knew what was coming. Sure enough, a few moments later, he felt a warm little kiss pressed against his right cheek.
At this point, the two older wolf cubs no longer needed Bai Tu’s help. They had done this countless times before. With practiced efficiency, they clambered up Bai Tu’s shoulders—one on each side.
Bai Tu let out a long sigh. His earlier thought had been too narrow. It wasn’t just one wolf that had evolved from dogs—all of these wolves had to be part dog!
When Hei Xiao arrived looking for Bai Tu, he found Lang Qi outside preparing food for the cubs. Knowing Bai Tu would be inside, he headed straight in.
The moment he stepped into the room, he was greeted by the sight of Bai Tu covered in wolves—two cubs perched on his shoulders, three more snuggled in his arms.
Hei Xiao took a deep breath, silently reminding himself that these were his nephews.
Still, when he got closer, he couldn’t help but pause. After a moment, he muttered, “You smell like a whole pack of wolves.”
Bai Tu: “…”
Thanks 4 the chapter!