Chapter 141
“What?”
Hearing Bai Tu’s words, Lang Ze suddenly remembered that he was still holding something in his hands. Startled, he quickly tossed it aside. “I’ll wash my hands right away!”
In Bai Tu’s house, anyone who didn’t wash their hands wasn’t allowed at the table. Lang Ze had just gotten out of confinement—he wasn’t about to risk getting locked up again.
Because they had just moved in, the storage room was practically empty—there weren’t even any snacks, let alone proper food. Lang Ze didn’t want to eat raw sweet potatoes, so he had been rummaging around for something interesting to play with. However, he didn’t dare touch anything Bai Tu might need, so in the end, he had only found a few clumps of dirt.
The dirt was from their last digging project. Lang Ze had piled up a bunch of it outside Bai Tu’s cave, but Bai Tu had been too busy dealing with the rescued sub-beastmen at the time to notice. Eventually, Lang Ze had wrapped the dirt in a piece of beast hide and stored it inside the cave. Later, when Lang Qi was organizing the house, he assumed Bai Tu had placed it there intentionally and had brought it along when they moved.
Lang Ze had searched the storage room twice but had only found this one thing that he felt he had the right to use. He thought Bai Tu was scolding him for playing with dirt, so he threw it aside as fast as he could.
Bai Tu: “…”
He had just wanted to take a look at it.
Sighing, Bai Tu walked over, picked up the clump of dirt, and broke it apart to examine it closely.
The color was off-white with hints of gray and yellow, noticeably different from the surrounding soil types. He rubbed a small amount between his fingers—it had a granular texture. As he broke it down further, he noticed tiny transparent crystals embedded within. The brief glimmer he had seen earlier hadn’t been his imagination.
Instinct told him it wasn’t anything harmful, and the small white wolf cubs nearby hadn’t reacted to it either. Trusting his judgment, Bai Tu took a tiny pinch and tasted it.
It was salty.
Although he didn’t know why it had formed this way, it was definitely edible.
“Where did you find this?” Bai Tu asked, turning to Lang Ze, who was now happily gnawing on ribs.
As long as he was allowed to eat, Lang Ze would answer anything. He thought for a moment and then recounted the entire event word for word.
Bai Tu was silent for a moment before asking, “How deep did you dig??”
“That dirt is bitter and salty,” Lang Ze replied, making a face of disgust. “We dug for a long time.”
He had no idea exactly how deep it was, but it had definitely been deep.
Bai Tu glanced outside. The weather wasn’t ideal for digging salt, but he needed to confirm how much there was.
“What can it be used for?” Lang Qi had already guessed that Bai Tu had discovered something valuable.
Bai Tu hesitated for a second, mindful that Lang Ze was present, and then said in a quiet voice, “It might be salt.”
He was almost certain, but he didn’t want to get too excited yet. If it turned out to be just a small quantity, it would be disappointing.
Lang Qi immediately understood his concern. After thinking for a moment, he replied, “I’ll take a group there tomorrow.”
Ever since last year, every idea Bai Tu had brought to the tribe had resulted in major benefits. By now, many in the tribe had come to believe that if Bai Tu paid attention to something, it was bound to bring good fortune.
This time, Bai Tu decided to keep it a secret for now. Lang Qi would take the lead in scouting the site—since he drew less attention than Bai Tu, they could avoid raising suspicions about their true intentions.
Bai Tu nodded in agreement. In just a few short sentences, the plan was set. Meanwhile, Lang Ze was still happily munching on his ribs.
Lang Ze’s tolerance for spicy food was nowhere near as high as Bai Tu or Lang Qi’s. But he had one defining trait—if something was difficult for him, he was even more determined to try it.
Bai Tu had prepared four flavors of grilled ribs: numbing spicy, medium spicy, mild spicy, and non-spicy. The non-spicy ones were for the wolf cubs, while the mild-spicy ones were specifically for Lang Ze.
But, as always, Lang Ze had no self-awareness. Instead of eating the portion meant for him, he had grabbed the spiciest one, turning red and gasping for air as he ate—but still refusing to stop.
The cubs had already eaten their fill, but watching someone else eat always made them crave food again. They had stared at their fathers with wide eyes earlier, but now, as they watched their uncle struggle with the spicy ribs, all but Lang Ying looked away in unison.
Dad gave Uncle the bad food again.
It’s so bad he’s crying…
The wolf cubs sat firmly on their stools, trying their best to be good little cubs so they wouldn’t end up like their uncle—forced to eat the “bad” food.
*
The Next Morning
At dawn, Lang Qi gathered a group of ten or so wolf and rabbit beastmen and set off for the location Lang Ze had mentioned.
When they arrived, they had only one thought—of course Lang Ze was the one who dug this.
The excavation site was massive—wider than two houses put together. The edges showed signs of being dug up and then covered again. At least the young wolves had been smart enough to conceal their work.
Both the wolf and rabbit beastmen instinctively transformed into their beast forms when digging. However, because of the heavy rain, their usual digging methods had to change.
Bai Tu had stayed up the previous night instructing the carpentry team to prepare wooden boards.
Before they started digging, they set up the boards to shield the excavation area from rain. Surrounding the site, they dug drainage channels to redirect any excess water. Once the area was dry enough, the wolf beastmen dug a small side tunnel just big enough to enter.
This method had a major advantage—it prevented any unearthed materials from being exposed to the open air.
From above, it looked like only a few small pits had been dug. But beneath the surface, they had already hollowed out an entire underground chamber.
The Rabbit Tribe was known for their ability to dig tunnels that wouldn’t collapse, which was one of the reasons why Bai Tu felt confident about proceeding with excavation during the rainy season.
When Lang Ze and his patrol team passed by the site, they overheard digging sounds. Curiously, they sneaked closer, only to discover that Lang Qi was leading a group in playing with dirt. Without hesitation, Lang Ze immediately joined in.
By the time Lang Qi finished inspecting the excavated soil and returned, he found that several uninvited wolf cubs had joined in on the digging—each one more enthusiastic than the last.
Lang Qi: “…”
Since the little wolves had nothing better to do, he let them continue digging until they reached the area that had already been excavated earlier. At that point, Lang Ze and his pack still had no clue what Lang Qi was actually trying to do—before they were promptly kicked out and sent back to the tribe.
The next steps, of course, were not something the cubs could know about.
That night, Lang Qi led Bai Tu to the massive pit that had been dug. Looking down at the dozens of meters of depth, Bai Tu couldn’t help but think—aside from these endlessly energetic young wolves, who else would even think of digging such a massive hole for fun?
Lang Qi had noticed during the excavation that this area’s soil was much harder than other places. Even at significant depths, there was little risk of collapse. With the additional drainage channels dug around the site, they didn’t even have to worry about water seepage.
Bai Tu followed Lang Qi down into the pit. Someone had cleverly designed the descent—every few meters, there was a ledge acting as a resting point. Bai Tu hadn’t expected Lang Qi to organize such a well-structured path in just a few days, making it so easy to climb up and down.
The depth was considerable. The two of them walked for a while before reaching the bottom.
“It’s not soil down here,” Lang Qi explained. “We hit a layer of solid rock-like material.”
Even at night, beastmen could see clearly, though the visibility was slightly lower than during the day. Bai Tu looked down at the vast layer of mineral salt beneath his feet.
For a moment, it felt like a dream.
Even if this salt wasn’t perfectly pure, it was still salt.
And this was just the surface—they hadn’t even dug deeper yet.
Bai Tu crouched down, ran his fingers over the coarse mineral salt, and then looked up at Lang Qi.
“Ze just made a huge contribution.”
Salt.
One of the biggest concerns for countless tribes across the Beast God Continent.
If acquiring salt was just about trading food for it, that would be one thing. But in reality, obtaining it required crossing mountains and rivers for weeks. Even though their tribe wasn’t far from the trade market, a round trip still took at least half a month.
For tribes that were even farther away, it was even worse.
Most tribes had to start preparing their goods a full month before the market opened. From preparations to travel and return, the whole process took over a month, forcing all other tribal work to be delayed.
Even though Bai Tu had already suspected this area contained salt, seeing such a massive salt deposit with his own eyes still left him utterly shocked.
Mining mineral salt was even easier than harvesting sea salt.
Bai Tu broke off a large chunk and brought it home to study purification methods.
In reality, the young wolves had almost hit the salt layer earlier—but back then, they were digging straight down rather than using the more structured excavation approach.
Because they hadn’t cleared the loose soil properly, the upper layer of salt had mixed with dirt. When they dug into it, the salt’s color didn’t appear significantly different—it wasn’t bright white or transparent, just slightly altered.
Thinking it was limestone for making cement or clay for making bricks, the excited wolf cubs called Lang Ze over.
After realizing it wasn’t what they thought, Lang Ze simply buried it back, then took some as a “souvenir” to leave outside Bai Tu and Lang Qi’s cave—intending to show off how deep they had dug.
But by the time the trade expedition returned, Lang Ze had completely forgotten about it.
Even when he saw it again, he had just packed it up and never thought to show it to Bai Tu.
Nobody had expected that those random chunks of dirt would lead to such an enormous discovery.
Bai Tu didn’t publicize the salt discovery.
In the Snow Rabbit Tribe, he only informed Bai An and Bai Chen.
In the Blood Wolf Tribe, aside from Lang Qi, only Lang Ya knew about it.
Even Lang Ze—who technically discovered it—had no clue what had happened.
All he knew was that the excavation site had suddenly been sealed off.
In a tribe, having salt is an absolute big deal—almost as significant as having a mountain that provides an endless supply of meat. Bai An was walking with a spring in his step. Even though he knew Bai Tu was still figuring out how to make the salt edible, he couldn’t hide his excitement. After all, it was salt—an essential resource for every tribe. Even the once-powerful Black Forest Tribe had to trade with others for salt.
What troubled Bai An the most was that he could only celebrate this good news in secret. He couldn’t tell anyone, which was frustrating. He was itching to share it with someone.
He didn’t dare disturb Bai Tu—not just because Lang Qi was keeping an eye on him, but also because Bai Tu’s research was too important to interrupt. Others either didn’t know or were busy with their own tasks. After wandering around, Bai An finally found someone he could talk to—Lang Qi. Since Bai Tu was busy figuring out how to refine the salt and Lang Qi was standing guard outside, it was the perfect opportunity to chat with him.
But as Bai An approached Bai Tu’s house, he realized something was off. Why were Lang Qi and Lang Ze cooking in the kitchen while Bai Tu was playing with wolf cubs?
Wasn’t this supposed to be a secret? Lang Qi had specifically told him not to let Lang Ze know about the salt. Bai An had remembered those words clearly. But now, Lang Qi himself had seemingly spilled the secret to Lang Ze!
Bai An was utterly confused. He hesitated before cautiously asking Bai Tu, “Is it really okay for Ze to know?”
In truth, the salt had originally been discovered by Lang Ze and the others—they just hadn’t realized what it was. It was Bai Tu who figured it out and continued excavating.
Bai An didn’t mind the wolf tribe knowing about the salt. Even if the salt was found on his tribe’s land, without the young wolves, they might never have discovered it.
The rabbit tribe was good at digging, but few could dig a pit dozens of meters deep. Aside from the young wolves, no other team in either tribe could have found the salt.
However, Bai An had the same concern as Bai Tu and Lang Qi: knowing the young wolves’ personalities, they’d probably spread the news about the salt as soon as they found out. They simply couldn’t keep secrets, no matter how big or small. Understanding Bai An’s worry, Bai Tu reassured him, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him.”
“Then… what about this?” Bai An pointed to the kitchen, where Lang Ze was helping Lang Qi boil salt. He was openly involved—was this really okay?
Bai Tu: “…”
Bai Tu: “Just watch.”
Soon, Lang Ze added more fuel to the fire and looked anxiously at the pot, which only had a thin layer of water left. “Brother, when will it be ready?” he asked.
“Soon,” Lang Qi replied. Bai Tu had already explained that once the water evaporated, only salt would be left behind.
Bai An walked in with his hands behind his back and casually asked Lang Ze, “What are you doing?”
Completely unaware of Bai An’s probing, Lang Ze answered honestly, without the slightest attempt to hide anything, “Tu said the tribe’s salt has been sitting too long and doesn’t taste good anymore, so we need to boil it again.”
Bai An: “???” Boiling salt again because it doesn’t taste good? What kind of excuse was that?
Seeing his disbelief, Lang Ze looked at him like he was ignorant and pointed to a bowl on the stove. “If you don’t believe me, try it!”
No one could question Bai Tu’s decisions in front of him—no one!
Bai An initially thought Bai Tu had just come up with a random excuse to fool Lang Ze. But when he saw the bowl of pure white salt, he hesitated. In the end, he scooped a little onto his palm and tasted it.
“It really is better!” Bai An exclaimed. He had tasted the previous batch of salt before—it had a strange bitterness, similar to the salt produced by some trading tribes, which was often disliked.
Bai An had assumed that their tribe’s salt naturally carried that bitterness and that they would just have to live with it. After all, even bitter salt was a highly sought-after resource for many tribes.
But now, he realized the bitterness could actually be removed.
“Right?” Seeing Bai An acknowledge the improvement, Lang Ze looked smug. Even though he hadn’t come up with the method, he had helped. And according to Bai Tu’s rounding method, that meant he was responsible for the success!
A thrilled Lang Ze completely forgot that the tribe used to trade for salt from another tribe. If the salt had always been bitter, then the salt they had eaten before should have been bitter as well. He genuinely believed they were refining the batch from the previous market exchange and even considered bringing back the other salt in the tribe to reboil.
Bai An, on the other hand, was purely delighted. The difference between bitter and non-bitter salt was huge in terms of value.
A single basket of non-bitter salt could be traded for more than a basket of bitter salt. Even then, many tribes were reluctant to trade for bitter salt—after all, food was consumed daily, and without bitterness, the flavor was pure and pleasant, whereas bitter salt left an unpleasant aftertaste that could linger for a whole day.
Overwhelmed with excitement, Bai An didn’t even mind being looked down upon by Lang Ze. He was so happy that he wanted to share his joy with someone—this was such incredible news that he felt an urge to announce it to the world.
Bai Tu sensed Bai An’s excitement but didn’t quite grasp his real thoughts. In Bai Tu’s mind, Bai An had always been a steady and composed leader—he couldn’t possibly imagine that Bai An was itching to spread the news immediately.
Processing mined salt wasn’t particularly complicated. First, it had to be dissolved and filtered. Then, using Bai Tu’s knowledge of chemistry, various substances were added to the saltwater to make unwanted elements insoluble. Once all impurities were removed, the solution was heated until all the water evaporated, leaving behind pure, edible salt.
The tribe still had a decent amount of salt, but once they started refining their own, they wouldn’t need to trade for salt at the next market. In fact, they could even use their salt to trade for other resources. For example, the Black Hawk Tribe, which had previously traveled to the southern markets for salt, consuming a significant amount of meat in the process, could instead trade iron ore directly for salt here.
The surrounding tribes were unaware that they had discovered a salt deposit. In the future, they could use excuses such as having surplus salt from trade to exchange for goods with these tribes. Even if the exchange rate matched the market price, these tribes would still prefer a closer trade option.
Traveling to the market required dozens or even hundreds of people, and hunting was impossible during the journey. Some tribes, reluctant to make the trip, would rather pay a higher price to trade with those who had surplus salt. In short, mining salt was an endeavor with nothing but benefits—both the wolf and rabbit tribes agreed on its importance without hesitation.
The materials needed for purifying salt were minimal, and some could be reused. The only inconvenience was that the rainy season hadn’t ended yet, so they couldn’t rely on sunlight to dry the saltwater and had to boil it slowly instead.
But compared to the end result, this minor issue was insignificant. The coal mine at the border between the Blood Wolf Tribe and the Spotted Leopard Tribe had barely been tapped. The coal seams were thick and could last for decades. Furthermore, the mountain range stretched endlessly, likely containing even more hidden resources.
Even if coal wasn’t used, the tribe had plenty of firewood. During the recent construction of houses, many trees had been cut down. While a small portion was taken by the woodworking team, most of the wood was still stacked near the residential area, ready for use once the rainy season ended.
With salt mining and production now a priority, Bai Tu began selecting the right people for the job.
The first requirement was meticulousness—after all, they were refining salt, not just any ordinary material. If a careless beastman inadvertently revealed their methods, their tribe could be in danger. Smart individuals from other tribes might deduce important information just from the purification process.
This meant the entire operation had to remain strictly confidential—not just from outsiders but even from their own tribe members. Thus, selecting the right people for the job required careful consideration.
Bai Tu scanned the tribe’s roster multiple times but still couldn’t decide who to entrust with the task. The beastmen in the tribe didn’t have many daily responsibilities—they only needed to complete their assigned work, leaving them with plenty of free time.
During their downtime, many beastmen liked to gather, chat, or play together. While this fostered close relationships, it also made keeping secrets difficult.
Beastmen were generally simple-minded—sometimes, in casual conversation, secrets could slip out without them even realizing it.
This was unacceptable. It wasn’t that Bai Tu didn’t trust the beastmen of both tribes; he was more concerned about outsiders—especially those who had been captured—overhearing something they shouldn’t.
Take the Black Forest Tribe, for example. Even though Wu Jiu was still paralyzed and unable to move, and Bao Ren had no chance to communicate with other beastmen, Bai Tu remained vigilant.
If word got out that their tribe was producing salt, these people would undoubtedly seize any opportunity to inform other tribes.
This was a salt deposit, which was vastly different from the coastal salt-harvesting tribes. Those tribes painstakingly extracted salt under the scorching sun, whereas refining salt here was significantly easier.
If other tribes learned about this, the friendly ones might try to negotiate trades, but the hostile ones would likely resort to force.
Salt was far more valuable than food or other resources, and having their secret exposed would be dangerous. That’s why this information had to be kept absolutely confidential.
After much deliberation, Bai Tu concluded that the best candidates for refining the salt were the sub-beastmen and female beastmen they had brought back. These individuals had spent long periods confined in caves and had grown accustomed to silence. Other than occasional interactions among themselves or approaching Bai Tu for help, they rarely communicated with the other beastmen in the tribe. Since they weren’t used to mingling with outsiders, there was little chance they would reveal anything about the salt purification process.
Bai Tu slowly closed the roster. He felt these individuals were the perfect fit for the job, but there was one problem—Bai An and the others still saw them as outsiders. Bai Tu wasn’t sure if Bai An would agree to this arrangement.
Perhaps due to his own background, Bai Tu had an innate trust in these rescued people, especially the sub-beastmen. However, trust was often an elusive thing. It was easy to convince oneself, but when persuading others, he couldn’t simply say, I trust them, so we should use them.
As Bai Tu was contemplating how to bring up the topic with Bai An and the others, Bai Chi suddenly showed up— and he wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by several others, including the erratic sub-beastman who had been particularly unstable after Bai Tu revealed his identity.
“Tu, this is Hui.” Bai Chi first introduced the sub-beastman’s name, then quickly explained the reason for their visit.
“We can help you make medicine to trade with other tribes.”
After returning the other day, Bai Chi had given the situation more thought. While Bai Tu’s tribe didn’t seem to lack food, they couldn’t just live there indefinitely, relying on the tribe’s generosity.
The Snow Rabbit Tribe and the Blood Wolf Tribe had already done them an immense favor by rescuing them from the Black Forest Tribe. Not counting the food and supplies they were given along the way, they hadn’t suffered any mistreatment since arriving in the tribe.
Bai Chi couldn’t bring himself to accept this hospitality without offering something in return—not even considering Bai Tu’s identity as Bai Luo’s child. The act of saving them had already repaid their past kindness in helping Bai Luo escape. Now that Bai Tu had convinced the tribe to provide for them and their young, they felt an even greater need to repay this generosity.
Of course, they remembered Bai Tu’s promise that they would be assigned jobs after the rainy season. But seeing so many other beastmen busy with work while they remained idle made them feel uncomfortable.
So, after some discussion, they decided to approach Bai Tu and offer their help with medicine-making.
“We’ve seen Wu Jiu and the medicine apprentices making medicine before—we can help,” Bai Chi explained. “You’re the only one treating the entire tribe’s wounds and making medicine for other tribes—it’s too much work for one person.”
Previously, Bai Tu had exposed the Black Forest Tribe’s deception and captured Wu Jiu along with two other shamans and medicine apprentices, leaving nearly all of the Eastern Continent’s shamans without a reliable source of medicine. Before returning, Bai Tu had reassured the tribes with shamans that they could trade for medicine from his tribe in the future, promising that the cost wouldn’t exceed what the shamans had previously charged.
The beastmen had been thrilled at the prospect of obtaining medicine for fewer resources. But Bai Chi knew all too well that producing medicine wasn’t an easy task. Even if Bai Tu had stored herbs in advance, supplying enough medicine for so many tribes would be an immense challenge.
After listening to Bai Chi’s explanation, Bai Tu paused. It felt like a solution had fallen right into his lap—he had been struggling to find a way to convince the others, and now Bai Chi had presented him with the perfect excuse.
These people had voluntarily revealed their knowledge of medicine-making and were willing to stay in the tribe to produce medicine in exchange for food from other tribes. That alone was enough to prove that, despite their short time in the tribe, they had already begun to see it as their home. If they were trusted with refining the salt, there was no chance they would leak the secret.
Bai Tu’s instincts were correct. When he presented both proposals to Bai An and the others, they quickly agreed without much hesitation.
What Bai Tu didn’t realize was that their agreement was largely due to their trust in him and Lang Qi. After all, it was Lang Ze who had discovered the salt, Bai Tu who identified it, and Lang Qi who led the excavation efforts. The Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes had merely provided the land. Without Bai Tu’s efforts, they might never have discovered the salt, even after decades.
Since it was Bai Tu’s plan, Lang Qi had no objections, and with his approval, everyone else naturally followed. Bai Tu had already anticipated and addressed all potential concerns.
Of course, refining salt wouldn’t be solely left to the sub-beastmen and female beastmen. Bai Tu also selected a group of naturally quiet beastmen and instructed them to keep their work strictly confidential. If anyone asked about their tasks, they were simply to shake their heads. Since these beastmen were already known for speaking little, even if they claimed ignorance, no one would suspect anything.
Bai Chi’s visit had resolved two problems in one go.
Bai Tu, reminded by the others, realized he needed to start planting medicinal herbs as soon as possible.
The tribe had been growing some medicinal herbs alongside their crops, but since they had only considered their own needs, the quantity was limited. Now, however, he had to prepare medicine for most of the Eastern Continent’s tribes—several dozen times more than before. The herbs currently being cultivated on their land wouldn’t be nearly enough.
Fortunately, this wasn’t a major issue. When he returned from the Black Forest Tribe, he hadn’t just brought back people and the medicines Wu Jiu had personally concocted—he had also taken seeds from the Black Forest Tribe’s herb fields.
Wu Jiu was undeniably clever. In order to ensure a steady supply of medicine, he had set aside a large portion of the Black Forest Tribe’s territory specifically for growing medicinal herbs. If not for the fact that many of the herbs were still too young, Bai Tu would have taken the plants themselves as well.
Still, it wasn’t a loss—so long as he planted the seeds now, in a year or two, he would have his own expansive herb fields.
Growing medicinal herbs required more care than ordinary crops, so Bai Tu decided to entrust this task to the sub-beastmen. Since the torrential rains hadn’t stopped yet, he handed them the seeds first and provided large wooden planters filled with soil to begin the germination and seedling process.
Bai Chi hadn’t lied—the sub-beastmen did have some prior experience. Whether it was selecting seeds or planting them, they handled the tasks with ease. At times, they even predicted Bai Tu’s next instructions just by observing his movements, completing tasks before he had the chance to explain them.
Teaching the sub-beastmen to plant herbs was incredibly effortless. Bai Tu took the opportunity to discuss various planting techniques with them, especially for the crops that would need to be sown once the rainy season ended. That evening, when he returned home, he told Lang Qi that they had to assign the sub-beastmen to manage the crops after the rainy season. Their learning ability was simply too strong.
Lang Qi looked at him for a moment before silently nodding.
Bai Tu didn’t notice Lang Qi’s brief hesitation. After washing up and changing his clothes, he wiped his hair dry and went to find the wolf cubs.
“Did you miss Daddy?” Bai Tu scooped up Lang Sui and Lang Ying, who were still in their human forms. It seemed they had realized the convenience of staying in this form, as lately, they remained human except when playing and roughhousing.
“Yes~” the two cubs chorused, pouncing onto Bai Tu from both sides. “Daddy, hug~”
Being embraced by two chubby little wolf cubs, Bai Tu instantly felt all his fatigue melt away. His back no longer ached, his legs were no longer sore—it was as if he had sunk into a pile of marshmallows, his mind filled only with the words Daddy, hug.
“Hug, hug, hug.” Bai Tu lifted them both into bed and ruffled their fluffy hair.
Whether in their human or beast forms, the cubs spent two-thirds of their day sleeping. In their wolf forms, it wasn’t very noticeable, but in their human forms, sleeping too long made their hair stick up in all directions.
But the cubs were soft, fair, and well-behaved. Even with little tufts of hair sticking up, they only looked more adorable.
The two cubs sat obediently on the bed, waiting for the daily ritual of getting their fur—or rather, their hair—groomed.
Hearing Bai Tu’s voice, the other three little ones woke up one after another. When they saw their older brothers getting groomed, they immediately ran over, demanding the same treatment.
Bai Tu simply sat down on the bed and pulled all the wolf cubs into his lap, brushing their fur one by one.
Lang Sui and Lang Ying quickly shifted into their cub forms and squeezed into the pile. Bai Tu held a comb in one hand and an armful of little wolves in the other, while a nearby wooden box gradually filled with their shed fur. The new box was already halfway full.
No matter the time, fluffy wolf cubs were always a source of joy. Bai Tu didn’t just brush their fur—he also gave them little massages.
The cubs sprawled out on their father, dozing off in contentment. But if Lang Qi picked them up and moved them elsewhere, their eyes would snap open instantly, and they would howl at him in protest.
This wasn’t the first time Lang Qi had been threatened by a group of wolf cubs. Without a change in expression, he gathered the sleepy little ones and dumped them onto the small bed beside them. “Sleep!”
The cubs, who had just been howling in defiance, immediately looked pitiful, clutching the edge of the small bed with wide, teary eyes.
Bai Tu had seen this little father-son battle play out many times before. He knew those pitiful expressions were all an act. Ignoring them, he closed the wooden box full of shed fur, picked up a larger brush, and asked Lang Qi, “Do you want a turn?”
Lang Qi didn’t reply. After a brief pause, a large wolf head settled onto Bai Tu’s lap.
The wolf cubs watched as their father took over the spot that had just belonged to them, angrily scratching at the bed in protest.
Taking advantage of Bai Tu’s distraction while he was brushing Lang Qi’s fur, Lang Sui and Lang Ying scurried to the edge of the bed. Mimicking their father’s usual movements, they found the hidden switches on both sides of the bed and pressed them with a click.
The barrier that had separated the small bed from the large one disappeared instantly. Before their two fathers could react, the wolf cubs immediately began scrambling toward Bai Tu—only to find their path blocked by a mountain-sized father right in front of them.
Lang Qi lowered his head to look at the tiny invaders and casually lifted a paw, swiping them all onto himself.
In an instant, the small wolf cubs vanished beneath their father’s massive form. Lang Qi easily covered them all with just one paw.
Bai Tu couldn’t help but chuckle. The cubs weren’t exactly small on their own, but compared to Lang Qi, they still had a long way to go. Even with all of them together, they weren’t as big as one of Lang Qi’s legs, so he had no trouble trapping them.
Suddenly plunged into darkness, the cubs let out muffled protests. The two older ones quickly shifted into their human forms and wriggled out from under Lang Qi’s paw. Once they stood up, they remembered their three younger brothers were still trapped. Squatting back down, they rummaged under Lang Qi’s paw, fishing out one sibling at a time before going back for the next.
Bai Tu, watching the whole scene unfold: …No wonder people say cubs of different ages shouldn’t be raised together. Thankfully, the older two knew to be gentle. Otherwise, the way they were casually grabbing their brothers by the legs and pulling them out was a bit too nerve-wracking to watch.
Before the cubs could repeat the process again, Bai Tu gave Lang Qi a light slap, signaling him to stop playing around. He gathered the three cubs who couldn’t shift into human form yet and placed them by his side, then reached for the other two.
Even when standing, the cubs weren’t as tall as Lang Qi lying down. Climbing over their father’s massive form was an exhausting feat. These little ones had never experienced the hardship of crossing mountains, but now, they were getting a taste of it. By the time they finally reached Bai Tu’s side, they were panting from the effort.
Lang Qi glanced at the exhausted cubs sprawled on Bai Tu and gave up on the idea of rolling over. Instead, he shifted back into his human form, threw on a piece of clothing, and started discussing some matters with Bai Tu.
Lang Qi said, “The salt-boiling team is running low on water.”
Earlier that day, Bai Tu had been busy assigning the sub-beastmen to begin germinating medicinal herbs, while Lang Qi had been overseeing the salt production. That’s when he realized that the tribe’s water supply was running dangerously low.
Although the tribe had several rivers within its territory, not all of them provided drinkable water. Everyone still preferred mountain spring water because it was clean and had a fresh taste.
However, using mountain spring water wasn’t without its drawbacks. The distance wasn’t the biggest issue—thanks to their newly developed carts, transportation efficiency had improved, even if it wasn’t as fast as the vehicles Bai Tu had seen in his previous world.
The real problem was that there simply wasn’t enough spring water to go around. The springs only flowed at a fixed rate, and no matter how many people or carts they sent, if there wasn’t enough water to collect, there was nothing they could do.
Bai Tu hadn’t considered this issue before. Their usual water sources had always been sufficient, but now that the salt-boiling team required large quantities, their consumption had skyrocketed.
Looking at the situation, relying solely on the mountain springs was no longer feasible. Bai Tu started contemplating a solution.
After weighing his options, it seemed the only viable solution was to dig a well. The thought of using river water was unappealing—who knew if upstream tribes were maintaining proper hygiene?
“Let’s start digging a well tomorrow,” Bai Tu decided. The sooner they started, the sooner they could use it.
No matter how long Lang Qi had spent with Bai Tu, he still found himself amazed. He had barely brought up the issue, and Bai Tu had already thought of a solution.
Lang Qi fell into deep thought. Compared to Bai Tu… was he just completely useless?
“What are you thinking about?” Bai Tu noticed Lang Qi’s silence and looked at him curiously.
“…I’m useless,” Lang Qi sighed.
“Useless!” Lang Ying, who had been eagerly learning new words, immediately parroted the phrase. After saying it, he even nodded seriously, as if fully agreeing with the statement.
Bai Tu: …No wonder I didn’t want you guys coming over earlier.
Thanks for the chapter!