Chapter 124
Bai An had always been soft-hearted, and right now, the tribe was in dire need of labor. With dozens of additional hands to help, the decision was almost inevitable. The final discussion results were predictable—aside from a few concerns that taking in so many outsiders might eventually diminish the status of the Rabbit Tribe, most either agreed to let the Flower Bear Tribe stay or chose not to comment.
As for those worried about the Rabbit Tribe’s influence, Bai An didn’t explain much—he simply assured them he had a solution.
Since even the chief had spoken, the opposing beastmen didn’t persist, and given the tribe’s current need for workers, the Flower Bear Tribe was officially allowed to stay.
That night, after the cubs had fallen asleep, Lang Qi slowly and deliberately repeated Bai Tu’s words from the night before.
“In. Two. Days. They. Will. Leave.”
He was just repeating what Bai Tu had said, but the resentment in his tone was almost tangible.
Bai Tu: “……”
He racked his brain, trying to figure out how to calm him down.
“Look, the adult beastmen from the Flower Bear Tribe are completely unreliable, and their cubs are still so small. If we really turned them away, they’d go hungry on the way back. That would be so pitiful, don’t you think?” Bai Tu started reasoning with him. “Especially the one we raised—he suffered so much in the Red Eagle Tribe. We finally got him nice and chubby, but if they take him back, he’ll probably starve all over again. Isn’t that too tragic?”
“If the Flower Bear Tribe beastmen were even half as reliable as you, I wouldn’t have agreed so easily. Just think of it as doing it for the cubs, okay?” Bai Tu coaxed. “They’re just so helpless… can’t we have a little compassion for them?”
He rambled on for a while, thinking he was making progress. But when he finally looked at Lang Qi, his expression seemed even darker than before. Bai Tu immediately stopped, mentally retracing his words. What did I say wrong?
Before he could figure it out, Lang Qi spoke again. “If it were me, you wouldn’t have agreed?”
Bai Tu: “……”
How did the focus shift to this?! How did he even catch that?!
Quickly backtracking, Bai Tu explained, “I meant if they were as reliable as you, it wouldn’t have been a problem. You’re the most dependable person I know.” He looked Lang Qi straight in the eyes and continued, “And of course, if you were in a situation like this, I wouldn’t let you leave either—I’d definitely keep you here in the tribe.”
Lang Qi simply stared at him in silence.
Feeling a bit nervous under his gaze, Bai Tu asked, “Brother, what else are you still unhappy about? Just say it!”
He could guess about seventy or eighty percent of Lang Qi’s thoughts, but it was always that last part—the crucial part—that was impossible to predict. Beastmen had a way of thinking that sometimes left him completely stumped. Bai Tu often sighed to himself—truly brothers through and through.
After staring at him for a long moment, Lang Qi finally said, “This is the last one.”
“The last what?” Bai Tu asked.
“The last tribe that can join unconditionally,” Lang Qi said. “From now on, any tribe that wants to join has to pay an entry fee.”
“Alright, alright.” Bai Tu nodded immediately. As long as he could smooth things over for now, he’d agree to anything. The next tribe that wanted to join? Sure, they could deduct whatever Lang Qi wanted.
That said, it wasn’t as if many beastmen were lining up to join their tribe. The Flower Bear Tribe had reached a point of extreme desperation—so much so that they were willing to stay and work for food. Plus, Bai Tu had a soft spot for pandas, which made it even easier for him to agree this time.
In reality, most beastmen wouldn’t recklessly join a foreign tribe unless they had no other choice. Likewise, Bai Tu’s tribe wouldn’t just accept anyone without consideration—they evaluated each case carefully.
Lang Qi’s suggestion of deducting points for entry was essentially adding a barrier to entry for newcomers. It sounded strict, but given the tribe’s rapid development, it was an inevitable step. It would help filter out those who weren’t genuinely committed.
Even if Lang Qi hadn’t brought it up, Bai Tu had already been planning to implement something similar—just after the tribe’s relocation to the residential area. But since Lang Qi had mentioned it now, he might as well bring it up with Bai An and the others sooner rather than later.
Seeing Bai Tu agree so readily, Lang Qi frowned. “You’re not lying this time?”
Bai Tu’s track record wasn’t exactly spotless. Just last night, he had promised the Flower Bear Tribe wouldn’t stay long, and by today, they had practically been permanently adopted into the tribe. Lang Qi wasn’t going to fall for the same trick twice.
Bai Tu had no intention of deceiving him this time. Of course, he hadn’t meant to lie yesterday either—it was just that things had taken an unexpected turn.
To prove his sincerity, Bai Tu raised his hand in an oath. “I swear that tomorrow, I will definitely, absolutely, without a doubt, discuss this with the chief and make it official, okay?”
Lang Qi frowned but pulled his hand down. “No need to swear.”
Even if Bai Tu did change his mind, it wasn’t a big deal.
Though, Lang Qi didn’t say that last part out loud.
Seeing Lang Qi even more tense than himself, Bai Tu couldn’t help but laugh. He leaned in and kissed Lang Qi on the face. “Alright, my most beloved will always be you and the cubs. No one can ever take your place.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Bai Tu suddenly felt himself being lifted and moved to a spot further away from the cubs.
Lang Qi held him tightly, as if wanting to merge him into his own body. “Say it again.”
“…What—” Bai Tu started to ask but then recalled what he had just said. Seeing how serious Lang Qi looked, he adjusted his tone and repeated, “I love you and the cubs the most.”
No matter who came into their lives, nothing would change the fact that Lang Qi and the cubs held the most important place in his heart. That was undeniable. Bai Tu hugged Lang Qi back. “Can we sleep now?”
The exhaustion from last night wasn’t something a single morning could recover from. On top of that, he had gone to the livestock area today, spent the afternoon discussing whether to take in the Flower Bear Tribe with Bai An, and had barely had a moment to rest. Thankfully, Lang Qi didn’t seem to have any other plans for tonight—otherwise, it would’ve been too much.
“Sleep,” Lang Qi agreed. Seeing Bai Tu’s fatigue, he reached under the blanket and began gently massaging Bai Tu’s waist.
His touch was light, not enough to disturb Bai Tu’s sleep, but just enough to make him more comfortable.
When Bai Tu woke up, he felt completely refreshed. Looking at Lang Qi, who had apparently woken up earlier and was resting beside him, Bai Tu felt a tinge of envy. Lang Qi always slept far less than him, but it never seemed to affect him.
For most people, lack of sleep would lead to reduced efficiency, but Lang Qi was different—he always went to bed after Bai Tu and woke up before him, yet he still handled everything with remarkable speed. Even though he spent at least half his day taking care of the cubs, he never neglected his responsibilities with the Wolf Tribe. The only change was that he now delegated tasks instead of giving direct orders.
The day’s work wasn’t over yet. Bai Tu got dressed, enjoying the convenience of his cotton clothing. In the current weather, washed clothes dried overnight, which was incredibly practical.
“We need to make more clothes in a few months,” Bai Tu muttered. Unlike other crops, cotton wasn’t harvested all at once—it matured in waves, allowing multiple pickings throughout the season. He had already planted all the seeds, and by autumn, there would be enough to make a batch of cotton clothing.
Bai Tu preferred the feel of cotton. Beast hides were useful, but he didn’t like wearing them inside and out.
“Make more,” Lang Qi agreed, rubbing against Bai Tu’s face in an affectionate gesture. “What else do you want?”
“Just the clothes. We have everything else we need,” Bai Tu replied as he helped Lang Qi adjust his clothes. Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation—that’s what life is all about.
Food wasn’t an immediate concern. Although wild prey was becoming scarcer, they had domesticated animals and cultivated crops to supplement their needs. There was no worry about food shortages during the rainy season. Housing was being built, so that wasn’t an issue either. Transportation was a long-term concern—right now, the terrain was mostly rocky mountain paths, and even if they invented an advanced vehicle, it wouldn’t be useful in this landscape. Besides, Bai Tu wasn’t capable of building one yet.
The only thing left to improve was clothing. The tribe wasn’t exactly lacking clothes—there were still plenty of beast hides—but Bai Tu simply wasn’t used to wearing them. Whether it was summer or winter, he preferred cotton fabric.
Lang Qi listened carefully and memorized Bai Tu’s words.
Bai Tu didn’t dwell on such small details. After eating, he headed straight down the mountain.
Yesterday, Hong Ku had gone berserk. Even though he hadn’t injured anyone, his actions couldn’t be overlooked. If they let this slide, it would set a precedent, and the next time the Lion or Vulture Tribe beastmen wanted to attack someone, chaos would break out in the tribe.
Call it a warning or a deterrent—either way, yesterday’s incident couldn’t just be brushed off.
More importantly, someone had secretly unlocked Hong Ku’s shackles.
When they had first captured him, there had been concerns about the Vulture Tribe harming members of the Snow Rabbit Tribe. The solution was to separate troublemakers from the rest of the prisoners and strictly limit the movement of the most problematic ones.
Hong Ku was undoubtedly the biggest troublemaker among the Vultures—he was arrogant and unruly, acting as if he were untouchable. Bai Tu had assigned him to the livestock area for waste disposal, and while that had calmed him down a bit, he still ran his mouth occasionally. To keep him in check, his hands and feet had remained shackled the entire time.
There were three keys to those shackles: Bai Tu had one, Bai Chen had another, and the third was with a squad leader responsible for overseeing the captives. That way, the chains could be unlocked when necessary.
Bai Tu’s key had never been touched—it had stayed in the cave, and aside from him and Lang Qi, only Hei Jian and Lang Ze occasionally entered. But none of them would have taken the key.
Bai Chen had checked his key after capturing Hong Ku—it was still in place.
The only way Hong Ku could have unlocked his shackles was by obtaining the key from the squad leader. When questioned, the squad leader, eager to prove his innocence, reached into his pocket—only to realize something was wrong. Several keys were missing, including the one for Hong Ku’s chains.
This immediately escalated the situation. Someone had stolen the squad leader’s keyring to free Hong Ku.
Among the missing keys were not only those for the vulture captives but also the ones for the fodder storage. If they didn’t act fast, there was a high chance that more beastmen could attempt the same reckless behavior as Hong Ku.
Bai Chen interrogated suspects throughout the night and finally found a lead—someone had seen a beastman sneaking out of the squad leader’s room in the middle of the night. Narrowing down the suspects to those who worked in or around the livestock area, they eventually identified the culprit.
It turned out to be a lion beastman who had once belonged to the Mad Lion Tribe. He had behaved well enough to be treated better than some of the other former members, especially those who kept shouting about wanting to rebuild the Mad Lion Tribe. Seeing his diligence, Shi Zhen had reassigned him to the livestock area—a physically demanding but well-compensated job. The two main benefits were that it provided warmth during the winter and earned high contribution points, making it a sought-after assignment.
However, Shi Zhen’s goodwill was repaid with betrayal—the lion beastman had delivered an unpleasant “surprise” to the tribe.
The lion wasn’t very old and had been working in the livestock area when he heard Hong Ku boasting about his past glory—how he had multiple partners, how he used to waste food, throwing away half of his meals. Enchanted by these stories, the lion eventually became Hong Ku’s devoted follower, believing every word he said.
Even more foolishly, he believed Hong Ku’s promise that once he got out, he would find him multiple mates.
With that belief in mind and a small degree of authority in distributing food and tasks, he started secretly favoring Hong Ku. But he didn’t stop there—when no one was looking, he stole the key and unlocked Hong Ku’s shackles.
Just before attacking others, Hong Ku had even promised the lion beastman a grand reward—two mates and two cows. The lion, convinced this was his golden opportunity, had been watching anxiously as Hong Ku made his move.
However, when Hong Ku’s attack on Bai Chen and Bai Tu failed spectacularly, the lion was completely stunned. From that moment on, he kept his head down, hoping no one would connect him to what had happened.
But there was no escaping the truth. Even if no one had seen him directly, it was only a matter of time before they figured out who had stolen the key. His actions in favoring Hong Ku had already been noticed—it was inevitable that his involvement would be uncovered.
Hong Ku had been locked up in the livestock area for nearly half a year, and by now, his mind was completely twisted. He had convinced himself that the Rabbit Tribe’s success was purely because of help from other tribes. Seeing Bai Chen and Bai Tu without any wolf or lion beastmen around, he assumed they had no real ability to defend themselves. He thought this was his perfect chance.
What he hadn’t expected was that the first one to stop him would be an unfamiliar beastman.
The Flower Bear Tribe’s beastmen looked round and harmless in their beast forms, and in human form, they weren’t particularly muscular either. They rarely hunted, which made them appear far weaker than the lion or wolf beastmen—an easy target in Hong Ku’s eyes.
Since winter had begun, Bai Tu and the others had rarely visited the livestock area, making Hong Ku even more convinced that this was a rare opportunity.
But things went south immediately—before he could even get close to Bai Chen and Bai Tu, his wing was bitten off.
Bai Tu knew that pandas had another name—”iron-eating beasts”—and that their bite force ranked among the strongest of all predators. The others hadn’t realized this yet, so when a seemingly lazy, food-obsessed panda beastman casually bit through Hong Ku’s wing, it shocked everyone.
No one was more stunned than Hong Ku himself. He had thought he had chosen the easiest target to attack, only to end up facing one of the toughest opponents imaginable.
Now that they had identified the traitor, the next step was punishment.
Originally, Hong Ku’s punishment had only involved wearing shackles, which didn’t significantly affect his daily life. But now that he had manipulated others and attempted an attack, even the normally gentle Bai An was furious.
Bai An rarely got angry, but when he did, the consequences were serious.
To him, attempting to harm a fellow tribesman was an unforgivable crime.
After spending the entire previous afternoon handling the Flower Bear Tribe’s settlement, Bai An had wasted no time. By early morning, he was personally overseeing Hong Ku’s punishment.
Hong Ku’s wing wasn’t just broken—it had deep tear marks from where it had been ripped apart. At first, in the excitement of his attack, he hadn’t even noticed the pain. He had rushed toward Bai Chen and Bai Tu at full speed, worsening the injury. The wound was now gruesome, with his wing nearly torn into two pieces.
No medicine had been applied, and the entire wing was caked in dried blood. Since noon the previous day, Hong Ku hadn’t had a single drop of water. Between the searing pain in his wing and the gnawing hunger in his stomach, he couldn’t hold out any longer and finally begged Bai An for mercy.
“Please… just give me something to eat…”
He clutched Bai An’s leg desperately. Not even when he had first escaped from the Red Eagle Tribe had he been in such a miserable state.
The Snow Rabbit Tribe was nothing like his old tribe—they rarely mistreated captives, never resorted to cruel punishments, and almost never beat or scolded prisoners. Some beastmen even ate better here than they had in their own tribes.
Hong Ku himself had been punished before for causing trouble, but those were light punishments—just enough to teach him a lesson, leaving him with minor wounds that healed in a few days.
This time, though, things were different.
This time, the wound on Hong Ku’s wing was real—his first serious injury. In the Red Eagle Tribe, he had never needed to hunt, let alone suffer a broken wing. Even a mere scratch from a tree branch would make Hong Tian worry endlessly over him.
He had never been truly injured before, but he had seen other vultures get hurt. A severed wing was almost impossible to reattach properly, and even if it was, they would never fly as freely as before. Unlike other winged tribes, vultures lacked strong offensive abilities—their wings were their greatest asset. Hong Ku didn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like without them.
But while he refused to think about it, Bai An had already made the decision for him.
“Break both his wings. From now on, he is permanently excluded from all rewards.”
The tribe’s system of rewards and punishments was constantly being refined. Bai Tu had created a series of regulations to motivate beastmen whose mistakes weren’t severe—for example, earning enough points could restore their freedom, and hard work could increase their point limits.
Bai An’s declaration meant that no matter how much Hong Ku worked, he would never be free again. On top of that, he would be assigned the dirtiest, most exhausting tasks.
Hearing that his wings would be broken, Hong Ku’s face twisted in terror. One injured wing was already an irreparable loss—if both were destroyed, even if he managed to escape, he would become a laughingstock among other beastmen. And without his wings, he wouldn’t even have full use of his arms, meaning he’d likely never escape at all.
Only now did true fear settle into Hong Ku’s heart. But it was too late.
If he had regretted his actions before attacking, he might have had a chance. But now, no one could trust that he was truly remorseful. He had already escaped once—who was to say there wouldn’t be a second or third time? Even the strongest beastmen who could stop him wouldn’t take that risk. What if the next time he attacked, it was a cub?
Bai Tu also heard Bai An’s verdict and found it fitting—it would prevent repeat offenses and discourage others from following Hong Ku’s example.
As for the lion who had helped Hong Ku, Bai Tu and the others discussed his punishment. Ultimately, they deferred to Shi Zhen’s judgment.
Shi Zhen was furious. He had personally promoted this beastman, only for him to turn around and commit treason. He was even angrier than Bai Chen and Bai Tu, who had nearly been harmed.
If Hong Ku had managed to injure Bai Chen or Bai Tu, both he and that lion would have deserved death. But the consequences wouldn’t have stopped there—other members of the tribe would have suffered as well.
Some of the crueler tribes didn’t stop at punishing the guilty—if a captured beastman committed a crime, they might execute not only the offender but also their entire species within the tribe. Both the Mad Lion Tribe and the Red Eagle Tribe had done this before.
Shi Hong had attacked countless tribes and enslaved many beastmen. He ruled with an iron fist and treated prisoners even worse than food—sometimes preferring to let food rot rather than give it to captives.
Once, a starving beastman, having watched his mate and cub die in front of him, seized a moment when the guards switched shifts and escaped the cave, biting Shi Hong in a desperate act of defiance. The bite barely injured him—after all, Shi Hong was a powerful lion, and the attacker was a half-dead captive—but Shi Hong was still enraged.
In retaliation, he ordered the execution of every beastman in that cave.
Shi Zhen had never participated in Shi Hong’s nightly gatherings with the other sub-leaders—he had always thought it was a waste of time and energy. But that night, when he heard unusual noises outside and went to check, he found the cave nearly emptied of life. The starving prisoners had no strength to resist the well-fed, powerful lion warriors.
That event had happened long ago, but even now, the memory sent chills down Shi Zhen’s spine.
Even though he knew Bai An and the others weren’t like Shi Hong—knew they wouldn’t execute beastmen without reason—he still felt a lingering fear.
“It was my failure to manage him properly. Can I take him back to punish him myself?” Shi Zhen asked Bai An.
Bai An glanced at Bai Tu, and after a brief exchange, both nodded, agreeing to let Shi Zhen handle it.
Shi Zhen dragged the lion back to his cave. The lion, relieved, assumed he had escaped a harsher punishment. In his mind, whatever Shi Zhen did to him would surely be lighter than Bai An’s judgment.
But then he saw what Shi Zhen was holding.
A wooden staff—taller than a beastman.
Panic flooded his face. “I was wrong! I was wrong—I know I was wrong—”
Shi Zhen ignored his pleas. He had his men hold the lion down and swung the staff down with full force.
Two agonized screams rang out. Then, silence.
Shi Zhen tossed the staff aside, looked at the unconscious lion, and motioned for another beastman to wake him.
“When he recovers, assign him to the transport team,” Shi Zhen ordered.
The transport team’s work was just as grueling—some items were too heavy to carry, requiring multiple beastmen to drag them together. Even if his hands were useless, he could still work—just strap a rope around him and make him pull.
Before leaving, Shi Zhen looked once more at the lion’s injured hands. Then, turning to the gathered beastmen, he issued a final warning:
“Let everyone see—this is what happens when you break the rules.”
If someone wanted to destroy their own future, that was their choice. But if anyone endangered the entire tribe for their own selfishness, they shouldn’t expect mercy.
Hong Ku thought that having one of his wings broken was the worst punishment he would receive—until he was taken out of the cave and realized his ordeal was only just beginning.
Without wings and with his arms rendered useless, there were still plenty of jobs he could do. The transport team always needed workers—just strap a rope around him and make him pull. This job was usually done by the tribe’s cattle, and now, they were treating him like an animal.
Hong Ku had never been so humiliated in his life. But no matter how furious he felt, he had to keep it bottled up, because he quickly realized something even worse—he and the lion who had helped him escape were now being ostracized by the entire tribe.
It wasn’t just the Rabbit and Wolf Tribes ignoring them—even beastmen from the former Mad Lion and Red Eagle Tribes were spitting at them in disgust. Some even kicked them out of nowhere, seemingly for no reason at all.
At first, Hong Ku and the lion had no idea why this was happening, but soon, they learned it could get even worse.
Their food was deliberately tossed into the dirt. If they couldn’t eat it, others accused them of being picky and nostalgic for their old privileged lives. The beastmen in charge of distributing meals believed this and skipped them entirely at the next meal. At night, their sleeping spots were taken by others. With his useless arms, Hong Ku couldn’t even climb to the upper bunks, so he was forced to curl up in a corner to sleep—only to get kicked by a beastman passing by in the middle of the night.
Back in the Red Eagle Tribe, Hong Ku had a high status and looked down on others. If someone so much as slightly offended him, he would punish them harshly, no matter how insignificant the matter. He loved seeing others in pain, and while many despised him, no one dared to challenge him—because he was Hong Tian’s only son, the next chief, and no one could defy him.
Even after being captured and brought to the Snow Rabbit Tribe, he still had followers. Bai Tu, wanting to separate him from the other vultures, had assigned him to the livestock area. The beastmen working there were generally timid and had no intention of following Hong Ku in any rebellion.
Previously, Hong Ku had little contact with those he had mistreated. And even when he did interact with them, they were either too afraid of him escaping or had known him for too short a time to dare retaliate. But now, his arms were crippled, his wings were gone, and his future was permanently tied to the tribe—there was no escape.
For the beastmen who had suffered under his cruelty, this was their long-awaited moment of revenge.
Hong Ku was starting to regret everything. If only he hadn’t tried to attack Bai Tu and Bai Chen to threaten the Rabbit Tribe, he would still be working peacefully in the livestock area.
But regret was useless now.
The job he hated was now the very one others were fighting over.
And when they said fighting over, they meant it quite literally.
Bai Tu stood there, holding a bag of herbal medicine for stopping bleeding, looking at Xiong Li, who had a fresh wound on his forehead. Then he turned to the other beastmen and sighed. “Alright, tell me—how did you get injured?”
He hadn’t expected the Flower Bear Tribe to start fighting, and it seemed neither had anyone else—except, perhaps, the Flower Bear Tribe themselves.
Xiong Chi stepped forward and explained, “It’s nothing serious. They were just competing for the job, and in the end, Li won. Tu, that livestock cleaning job should go to him now, right?”
Xiong Chi rubbed his hands together expectantly.
Ever since the day they arrived, they had set their sights on that job. But after two days of waiting, every time they asked about work, the response had been, Just wait a little longer.
The entire tribe of Flower Bear beastmen had started to worry. What if the Snow Rabbit Tribe realizes they don’t need us after all?
Determined to prove their worth, the Flower Bear Tribe decided to select their strongest beastman to claim the cleaning job.
But choosing the strongest beastman wasn’t so easy.
After all, they hadn’t hunted in years. Living off bamboo didn’t exactly build muscle, and none of them were particularly physically imposing. The only thing they were sure of was who could climb trees the fastest.
Since they couldn’t decide by appearance, they simply held a competition.
While the rest of the tribe was busy with their usual work, the Flower Bear beastmen spent the entire morning battling it out. In the end, after a long and intense contest, Xiong Li emerged as the strongest.
Xiong Chi concluded his story and prepared to take Xiong Li to Bai Tu for final approval.
Then, in his excitement over winning the competition, Xiong Li ran straight into a door—earning both a victory and an injury.
Bai Tu listened to the entire explanation in silence.
What could he even say?
It was both completely unexpected… and yet, entirely in character for the Flower Bear Tribe.
But the fact that they hadn’t been assigned jobs yet? That part made Bai Tu sigh.
“You’ve only just arrived,” he explained patiently. “You suddenly switched to a new diet, so I wanted to give you three days to adjust. I told you, in two more days, you’ll all be assigned work.”
“There are cleaning jobs. There are plenty of jobs. You will all get work, and we are not going to kick you out.”
He had already repeated this multiple times.
Bai Tu had been concerned that abruptly starting work alongside a diet change might make some of them unwell, so he had given them a few days to adapt.
Assigning jobs wasn’t as simple as just giving orders. After excluding the five cubs under ten years old and the three soon-to-be adults, there were still 39 beastmen in the Flower Bear Tribe—23 males and 16 females.
Bai Tu distributed them based on the workforce shortages in various teams, making sure no one had to start a job alone in an unfamiliar environment. Instead, they were assigned in pairs or small groups for better support and security.
But even with all this planning, the Flower Bear Tribe still didn’t fully believe it. Today was supposed to be their final rest day, yet instead of waiting patiently, they had all transformed into panda beasts and started fighting each other.
Since they were so eager, Bai Tu decided to just announce their assignments today. The work had already been arranged over the past two days anyway.
“Everyone has a job?” Xiong Chi asked, barely able to believe it.
“To be precise, everyone except for the eight young cubs. They still need time to learn,” Bai Tu clarified.
The so-called “learning” referred to a basic education program under Tu Cai’s supervision.
The tribe had many cubs, most of whom hadn’t yet shifted into human form or had only recently done so—these were easy to manage. The older ones, around ten years old, were also relatively well-behaved. Even the mischievous ones still completed whatever tasks they were given.
The real troublemakers were the six- to seven-year-olds. They could run, jump, and play everywhere, making it nearly impossible to keep track of them.
Although the Red Eagle Tribe had been dealt with, the Snow Rabbit Tribe was still filled with busy beastmen, and having cubs running around constantly was not just disruptive—it was dangerous. They could easily get hurt.
To keep them occupied, Bai Tu had moved up his education plan. The younger cubs would only learn the basics, while half of their day was dedicated to group play—essentially an early childhood program.
For the Flower Bear Tribe cubs aged five to ten, they would stay there full-time during the day. The three older cubs would have morning classes and then spend the afternoons learning how to herd cattle and cut grass for livestock.
Hearing that Bai Tu had even arranged jobs for their cubs, the Flower Bear beastmen weren’t the least bit upset. In fact, they were overjoyed.
Having work meant they were officially part of the Snow Rabbit Tribe. They were no longer freeloaders.
A group of newly employed Flower Bear beastmen was even happier than the tribe members who were on break.
That night, Bai Tu recounted the day’s events to Lang Qi, particularly the reason why Xiong Li had gotten injured.
Hearing that he had split his head open by running into a door, Lang Qi paused for a moment.
Beastmen this foolish… if they weren’t taken in, they might not survive anywhere else.
For the first time, Lang Qi felt that Bai Tu’s concerns about them had been justified.
“Right?” Seeing that Lang Qi was finally supporting his decision, Bai Tu grinned in satisfaction and picked up a well-fed cub, kissing it. “Let’s see if you’ve eaten enough…”
Hearing this, the wolf cubs all flopped onto their backs, exposing their round bellies, waiting for Bai Tu to check.
Lang Qi watched as Bai Tu played with the cubs, enjoying himself, and hummed in acknowledgment.
Once he finished checking, Bai Tu handed the cubs over to Lang Qi. “Go to your father.”
The cubs obediently clung to Lang Qi’s hand, afraid of being tossed aside.
Lang Qi glanced down at Lang Ying, who was nestled in his arms. But Lang Ying didn’t even look at him, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Bai Tu, who was checking the next cub.
After ensuring all the cubs were neither overfed nor still hungry, Bai Tu kissed each of them, then lined them up neatly on the bed and gently coaxed them, “Time to sleep.”
In unison, the five cubs shifted slightly, scooting closer to Bai Tu before finally closing their eyes.
At first, the two older cubs used to sleep in their human forms. But they soon realized that in human form, only one of them could snuggle close to Bai Tu, while the other was always slightly separated. So, they switched back to beast form, curling up into small fluffy balls.
That way, they could all fit neatly in a row beside Bai Tu.
Lang Qi watched them for a long time, silently observing as the cubs gradually wriggled their way closer to Bai Tu. Once they had all fallen asleep, he carefully picked them up one by one and moved them into a small enclosure beside the bed.
Then, he pulled Bai Tu into his arms.
When morning came and the cubs woke up, the only thing they could see was each other.
Immediately, they started calling out for their father.
On the other side of the bed, Bai Tu, still half-asleep, nudged Lang Qi. “The cubs are awake.”
“I’ll go get them,” Lang Qi said, adjusting Bai Tu’s clothes before heading over to the enclosure.
Hearing the sound of his footsteps, the cubs stopped calling out and lifted their heads. The moment they saw who it was, they started howling all over again. Lang Qi picked up the little wolves and placed them beside Bai Tu.
Seeing their father, the cubs immediately quieted down.
Lang Qi kissed Bai Tu, who had dozed off again, then left the cave with light steps.
However, the cubs were not at all happy about being moved. From the moment they woke up until after breakfast, they clung to Bai Tu like glue.
After the meal, Lang Qi reached out his hand toward them—only for one of the little wolves to suddenly let out a tragic, ear-piercing howl.
Thinking the cub was hurt, Bai Tu immediately picked up the small gray wolf and carefully examined him from head to toe.
There wasn’t a single scratch, not even a red mark.
Lang Qi’s hands were clean—he had carried the cubs for so long and knew exactly how much strength to use. There was no way he had accidentally hurt the little one.
But the howl had definitely sounded different, and Bai Tu couldn’t figure out why.
Just as he was puzzling over it, Lang Qi reached toward the cub again.
Before Bai Tu could say anything, the little wolf let out another dramatic yelp.
“I didn’t even touch him,” Lang Qi said coldly, staring at the cub. “He’s faking it.”
“That can’t be, right?” Bai Tu was skeptical. The cub was only a few months old—how could he already know how to fake an injury?
But soon, Bai Tu had to admit that Lang Qi was probably right.
Whenever Bai Tu held the cub, everything was fine. But the moment Lang Qi got close or made any movement suggesting he might take the cub away, the little wolf immediately started wailing again.
Bai Tu: “……”
At this point, there was no denying it. Once or twice might have been a coincidence, but this was happening too consistently. Bai Tu sighed.
“Alright, I’ll take them out with me today.”
Originally, Bai Tu was supposed to check on how the Flower Bear Tribe beastmen were adjusting to their new jobs. His plan had been to go out in the morning while Lang Qi watched the cubs, then switch places in the afternoon so Lang Qi could handle matters with the Wolf Tribe.
But now, that plan had to change.
Fortunately, since the Flower Bear Tribe had just arrived, their assigned tasks were all nearby. The cubs weren’t very heavy, so carrying them wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.
Besides, the younger ones had barely been outside since birth—this was a good chance to take them out for some fresh air. The weather was still mild. Only midday was hot, but mornings and evenings were comfortable. In a little while, even the mornings would be unbearably hot, making it much harder to go out.
As Bai Tu prepared to leave, Lang Qi also decided not to stay in the cave.
“I’m going to find Ze.”
The sooner he finished his tasks, the sooner he could return.
He glanced at the cubs, who were happily playing in Bai Tu’s arms, his expression darkening.
But the cubs, too preoccupied with Bai Tu, didn’t notice his glare at all.
The two older ones had long since gotten used to this—they had experienced it many times over the past six months. The three younger ones, however, didn’t care about anything as long as their father was there.
“Go take care of your business,” Bai Tu urged, smoothing out Lang Qi’s clothes. “I’ll just take a quick round and be back soon. I’ll wait for you here.”
That last sentence successfully shifted Lang Qi’s focus. Satisfied, he nodded before leaving.
With the weather warming up, not only was there more work in the Snow Rabbit Tribe, but the Blood Wolf Tribe also had numerous matters that required Lang Qi’s attention. While he had already delegated many tasks to Lang Ze and the others, some things still required his direct involvement.
Once Lang Qi was gone, Bai Tu looked down at the cubs.
They had stopped crawling around and were now staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, as if wondering what their father was about to do.
Bai Tu freed one hand and tapped the little gray cub on the head. “You little troublemaker, why are you bullying your father?”
The cub tilted his head in confusion. The sentence was too long—he didn’t understand it.
Of course, Bai Tu knew that. The two older ones could comprehend some words, but the younger ones could only recognize names and a few basic commands. Anything more complicated was beyond them.
Sighing, Bai Tu rubbed the little cub’s head and carried them down the mountain. His first stop was the canteen to check on the beastmen working there.
With the addition of dozens of people, the canteen’s workload had increased significantly. Naturally, more staff were needed. However, Tu Mu had mentioned that they didn’t necessarily need skilled cooks—just strong workers who could handle food preparation.
The Flower Bear Tribe beastmen had considerable strength, so Bai Tu assigned three of them to help transport ingredients. The job wasn’t particularly difficult, and they were adjusting well.
Leaving the canteen, Bai Tu made his rounds to check on other work assignments.
At the blacksmith’s station, Bai Hui had placed the new workers in relatively safe roles—mainly tending the fire and adding coal, which was easy to manage.
The livestock area was similarly simple—anyone with enough strength could handle it, and it was easy to pick up.
Overall, things were going smoothly.
The only issue… was with the textile team.
When spinning thread, the pressure needs to be consistent, and the spinning speed must remain even. Only then can the resulting thread be uniform in thickness. If the thread gets caught or has uneven spots, it must be unraveled and redone.
However, the Flower Bear Tribe beastmen were too strong and lacked patience. What took others an hour to spin, they could finish in less than half that time—but the final product was a complete disaster.
Bai Tu immediately reassigned them to a different task.
With their strength, they were better suited to cutting and transporting bamboo.
Bamboo was an important material. Bai Tu had been planning to experiment with papermaking since winter, but the process required soaking the bamboo in water for several months. The work had only begun after the river thawed.
To allow for multiple attempts, Bai Tu had arranged for the bamboo to be cut and soaked in batches using limewater. This was already the third batch, with a larger quantity than before.
Under Xiong Li’s lead, several Flower Bear beastmen were hard at work. As they tossed bamboo into the river, they sighed repeatedly.
Bai Tu listened for a moment, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“This job isn’t that hard for you, is it?”
Xiong Li sighed again and gestured broadly. “Our old territory had huge bamboo forests. Way bigger than this one.”
That land had far more bamboo than here, but it was too far away to transport any over.
Hearing about their previous bamboo forests, Bai Tu suddenly thought of something.
“You guys only ate bamboo? Why didn’t you catch any bamboo rats?”
“Bamboo rats?” Xiong Li looked confused.
Bai Tu demonstrated their size with his hands. “They’re about this big, fluffy, and round. Usually gray, though they come in other colors, just not as commonly.”
Bamboo rats were one of the few rodents Bai Tu didn’t associate with regular rats. They reproduced quickly, having two to three litters per year. With such a large bamboo forest in their territory, there should have been plenty of bamboo rats.
How had the Flower Bear Tribe ended up in a situation where they ate nothing but bamboo?
Xiong Li scratched his head in embarrassment—only to accidentally press on his wound, making him grimace and hiss in pain.
“We scared them all away,” he admitted, “…It was kind of fun, though.”
Thanks for the chapter~~