Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – CH166

Chapter 166

The moment Ying Quan mentioned that the fish had been placed in the dining hall, Bai Tu had a bad feeling.

Walking toward the kitchen with Ying Quan, he heard the sound of a child crying from outside, and that uneasy feeling intensified.

Seeing Ying Quan rush ahead, Lang Ze, fearing he might miss out on some delicious new dish, followed along and checked the time.

“It’s not even mealtime yet. Who brought a youngling here?”

The younglings in the tribe were generally well-behaved—as long as they were given food, they could sit quietly for an entire day.

Hearing such heart-wrenching cries was incredibly rare.

Bai Tu quickened his pace.

When the three of them entered the kitchen, Tu Mu stood there, completely at a loss, staring at a fish tank filled with several children.

There were five of them, all around the same age, their tiny hands gripping the edge of the tank.

Whenever Tu Mu tried to approach, the younglings’ cries grew even louder.

Meanwhile, a few beastmen cooking nearby kept glancing over with curious expressions.

“They’re playing with water at such a young age?!” Lang Ze was shocked—this was definitely not something he had as a cub.

Bai Tu: “……”

He suddenly had a bold theory.

Taking a few steps forward, Bai Tu walked up to the fish tank.

“Wait—!” Tu Mu started to stop him, but then noticed something odd—the moment Bai Tu approached, the younglings stopped crying.

That’s when he understood—Bai Tu really did get special treatment.

“Hiss…” Bai Tu sucked in a breath.

From the outside, they looked like regular children, but inside the fish tank, their lower halves were clearly fish tails.

They were merfolk babies!

Each one had a different tail color.

The one closest to him had a bright blue tail and was gently swaying it, seemingly in a good mood.

The other younglings were more timid, trying to hide away.

The blue-tailed merbaby, being the closest to him, tilted its head up curiously, observing him.

Sensing that Bai Tu posed no threat, the blue-tailed merbaby suddenly stretched out its arms, asking to be held.

Bai Tu also noticed that their eyes were different from other younglings’—perhaps because they grew up in water, their eyes seemed even brighter.

He reached out and picked up the merbaby.

At the same time, Lang Ze extended his arms to pick up another one.

“Be careful!!” Tu Mu shouted in warning.

But he was a step too late—the seemingly gentle merbaby had already opened its mouth.

Caught completely off guard, Lang Ze was bitten.

Fortunately, the merbaby was still too young, so its bite wasn’t strong enough to break the skin—it only left a clear ring of tiny teeth marks.

Lang Ze’s first reaction was to shield Bai Tu, but when he turned, he saw that the merbaby in Bai Tu’s arms was completely different from the one that bit him—it was calm and well-behaved.

The blue-tailed merbaby in Bai Tu’s arms clutched onto his clothes, swaying its tail gently.

Bai Tu was momentarily stunned by the contrast, then glanced at Lang Ze’s hand.

Seeing that the bite hadn’t broken the skin, he finally sighed in relief.

Tu Mu, watching the clear favoritism among the merbabies, had a complicated expression as he explained:

“They wouldn’t let us touch them earlier, either.”

When Ying Quan delivered the fish, no one had expected them to turn into younglings.

Some of the beastmen in the kitchen had experience taking care of younglings, and since they often prepared food for them, they weren’t strangers to handling them.

Their first instinct had been to pick them up and soothe them.

Normally, if a youngling was throwing a tantrum, all it took was some gentle coaxing.

But these merbabies, despite looking small and delicate, were shockingly aggressive.

Before Bai Tu arrived, several people had already been bitten—and the one who had bitten them was the very same merbaby currently snuggled up in Bai Tu’s arms.

No one else could get close, but Bai Tu could hold them freely.

Now, Tu Mu understood—it wasn’t that they were naturally aggressive, they were just choosing who to be aggressive toward.

Bai Tu gently ruffled the merbaby’s hair.

According to Tu Mu, the merbabies had been swimming in the tank for a while, but for some reason, they had suddenly become agitated.

Bai Tu glanced at the fish tank—the merbabies were gripping the edge, trying to climb out.

Then he looked at the other tank, which contained several large, plump sea fish.

Turning to Ying Quan and Tu Mu, Bai Tu asked: “Did you add salt to the water?”

“What salt?” Ying Quan looked completely lost.

Tu Mu’s face turned pale with horror. “You’re not actually planning to cook them, are you?”

He had assumed that since they had human forms, Bai Tu wouldn’t be willing to eat them.

Bai Tu: “……”

Bai Tu: “Seawater contains salt. If you don’t add salt to the water, these fish won’t survive for long!”

To make it easier for Bai Tu to identify the fish, Ying Quan had brought back many of them alive.

The journey had taken longer partly because they had to carry heavy seawater with them.

Once they returned to the tribe, they had poured the fish and seawater into the tanks.

If the merbabies hadn’t looked different, they probably would have been mixed in with the other fish.

Neither merfolk nor ordinary sea fish could survive in freshwater.

Otherwise, the merbabies wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to climb out.

The sea fish had no such option and could only continue struggling in the water.

As Bai Tu spoke, he lifted all the merfolk younglings out of the fish tank and placed them in an empty basin nearby.

Then, he asked Tu Mu to help mix salt into the water.

The other beastmen in the kitchen also came over to help, pouring salt into the water.

Bai Tu picked up the blue-tailed merbaby and guided her to dip her hand into the water.

At first, she would pull her hand out immediately every time she touched the water.

But after two full packets of salt were added, she finally seemed satisfied.

Her tiny, pale hands started to playfully swirl the water around.

“Use this ratio,” Bai Tu instructed, telling them to adjust the salinity for all the water basins accordingly.

Among the fish Ying Quan had brought, there were more dried fish and frozen fish, especially the dried ones.

Most of these couldn’t even be caught in this season.

The coastal tribes had a simple method of processing them—they would coat the fish in salt and leave them out to dry.

With low moisture content and high salt levels, many of these dried fish could be preserved for years.

After being rejected by the merbabies, Lang Ze turned his attention to the dried fish and asked, “Why don’t any of the coastal tribes use fish for trade?”

“Fresh fish are hard to transport, but dried fish like these are easy to carry. Shouldn’t they be a common trade item?”

He couldn’t understand why those tribes weren’t using fish to exchange for supplies.

Ying Quan explained, “Fishing in those tribes is extremely dangerous. These dried fish were gathered by several tribes working together.”

“Salt harvesting is exhausting, but it’s still safer than fishing.”

“They only planned to eat these when they completely ran out of food.”

Dried fish had a longer shelf life than dried meat, and even though the coastal tribes had access to salt, they couldn’t always trade for enough food.

Whenever food was scarce, they relied on the dried fish stored from previous years.

Even though they lived by the sea, the amount of dried fish they could store was limited.

If it weren’t for their trust in Bai Tu, those tribes wouldn’t have been willing to part with them at all.

Ying Quan had chosen to explore the bird island precisely because it was so far away—since he had already made the trip, he didn’t want to return empty-handed.

And as for the last few fish they caught…

Ying Quan glanced at the merfolk younglings, then added,

“There are also aggressive fish in the sea—some are small and chase people, biting them. But there’s also a much larger type that’s extremely dangerous.”

“When we found these younglings, they were being chased by those large fish.”

Because these merbabies had such unique colors and looked different from the fish caught by the Tata Tribe and other coastal tribes, Ying Quan’s group had decided to scoop them up.

They just hadn’t expected that the fish they caught could turn into humanoid children.

“Big fish?” Bai Tu wondered if they were sharks or something similar.

Even if they weren’t actively aggressive, spotting one in the water would still be terrifying.

As for the smaller biting fish, they were probably some type of carnivorous species.

The ocean was far more dangerous than most people imagined.

Without the right tools, venturing into the sea was indeed incredibly risky.

“They say the biggest ones are larger than our houses,” Ying Quan continued.

“The ones we saw were smaller.”

Since they had been flying in the air, they weren’t afraid of the creatures below and even had the leisure to scoop up the merfolk younglings.

“When those smaller big fish saw us capturing these merbabies, they left.”

Because these small fish had brightly colored tails, Ying Quan had simply placed them in a container and brought them back.

After arriving at the tribe, they had tried to change the water for the fish—but accidentally replaced seawater with freshwater, which forced the merfolk younglings to transform into their humanoid forms and cry.

“I’ll think of a solution later,” Bai Tu said.

He then glanced at the merbaby clinging tightly to his arm, unwilling to let go, and turned to discuss with Ying Quan.

“You might need to make another trip in the next couple of days.”

Aside from returning to the merfolk’s home waters to check if there were any adult merfolk around, they also needed to gather information on the tribe that traded heavy metal stones with the Gray Deer Tribe.

Ying Quan agreed without hesitation.

Even though the weather had gotten colder, adult members of the Feathered Tribe could fly outside without much trouble.

Besides the warm clothing Bai Tu had provided, their own feathers had undergone seasonal changes, making them better adapted to the cold.

Additionally, Ying Quan felt guilty—they had assumed these were just regular fish.

Who could have imagined they were actually merfolk?

Even though the merbabies had only partially transformed, with human upper bodies and fish tails still intact, their faces looked just like the younglings in the tribe.

So, at this point, everyone had already started treating them as their own.

Back when they scooped them up, they hadn’t thought much about it—after all, when hunting fish, no one wonders whether the fish they catch was stolen from another fish’s mouth or caught on their own.

But now that they knew these were merfolk younglings, the situation was completely different.

Still, in a way, it was a fortunate accident—at least they had saved them from being eaten.

“For now, don’t take the younglings back,” Bai Tu instructed.

When Ying Quan found them, they had been actively fleeing from predators, and no adult merfolk were in sight.

Under normal circumstances, if younglings were in danger, their relatives would rush to protect them immediately.

The fact that no one had come to save them likely meant that the adults were struggling to survive themselves—which proved that the ocean was extremely dangerous for merfolk, especially their younglings.

That meant it wasn’t safe to return them just yet.

Bai Tu decided that Ying Quan should first check if there were any adult merfolk around.

If they found adults, they needed to figure out the situation.

If the ocean wasn’t as dangerous as expected, they could return the younglings immediately after winter ended. But if it was too dangerous, they would see if there was any way to help.

Besides, the sea was already beginning to freeze over.

Whether or not they could even find adult merfolk was another question entirely.

If they searched but found no one, sending the younglings back would be pointless—they’d just be throwing them into uncertainty.

Adult beastmen had stronger resistance to the cold—as long as they were properly dressed and supplied with food, they could endure a short trip outside.

But younglings weren’t the same.

That’s why, for this mid-winter mission, only the adults would be going.

Now that they had settled the plan for Ying Quan, Bai Tu turned his attention back to the merfolk younglings.

Their appearance was somewhat androgynous, making it difficult to distinguish gender.

Bai Tu was only sure that the one in his arms was a girl—as for the others, he had no idea.

Instead of dwelling on it, he focused on figuring out how to accommodate them and how to assist the coastal tribes.

Right now, it was winter, and most tribes couldn’t work.

The coastal tribes had it even worse—the ice was thick, and aside from the breathing holes created by sea creatures, the surface was completely frozen over, making it impossible to see what lay beneath.

If Bai Tu wasn’t worried about the missing merfolk being anxious, he wouldn’t have sent Ying Quan out so soon.

Since Bai Tu had younglings of his own, he understood how desperate a parent would feel if their child went missing.

Even though they had technically rescued the merbabies from danger, they had taken them away without leaving a single message.

From the merfolk’s perspective, that was undoubtedly concerning.

Luckily, Ying Quan had no objections to the mission, which made Bai Tu feel relieved.

Now, the first step was to entrust the merfolk younglings to the sub-beastmen for care.

Sub-beastmen were naturally skilled at raising younglings.

Because their aura was lighter, even younglings from species that were naturally opposed to one another wouldn’t feel threatened in their presence.

As for the specific traits of merfolk younglings, Bai Tu figured he should ask Hei Xiao—his own knowledge was limited to regular fish, and while both had “fish” in their names, they were obviously not the same.

Just as Bai Tu was thinking this, he noticed the merbaby in his arms fidgeting, as if searching for something.

Then, a thought suddenly struck him.

“Did you feed them at all during the journey?”

Ying Quan rubbed his nose, looking a little embarrassed.

“No, we didn’t.”

They had spent the entire trip thinking about how to cook the fish—it never even occurred to them that they needed to feed them.

Only now did they realize that they had let the younglings go hungry the whole way back.

“There’s food in the kitchen—I’ll get some.” Tu Mu immediately volunteered.

Younglings ate differently from adult beastmen, and since the tribe had younglings from many different species, their feeding needs varied.

Some younglings only ate once every few days, while others needed multiple meals a day.

Because of this, the tribe always had food prepared for them, and whenever supplies ran low, they would immediately replenish them.

At the moment, the kitchen had goat milk, rice porridge, and minced meat congee, so Tu Mu asked Bai Tu which one to feed them.

“Bring a little of everything,” Bai Tu instructed.

“Let’s see what they want to eat.”

Logically, marine creatures should prefer fish, but cooking fish would take some time.

For now, it was better to get something into their stomachs first before worrying about anything else.

Bai Tu’s guess was spot on—the younglings were absolutely starving.

The moment the food was brought in, their eyes lit up.

Even so, they remained on high alert.

When Tu Mu and the others tried to feed them, the merbabies flat-out refused to open their mouths—and if they did open their mouths, it was only to bite.

Only when Bai Tu fed them did they begrudgingly cooperate.

They were hesitant at first, likely because they had never eaten these foods before.

For the first bite, they held it in their mouths cautiously, taking a long moment before swallowing it down.

But the instant they finished the first bite, their eyes changed completely—they locked onto the bowl in Bai Tu’s hands, clearly wanting more.

There was no way Bai Tu could feed all of them on his own, especially since these were younglings who hadn’t eaten in days.

Turning to Lang Ze, who was standing nearby, Bai Tu instructed:

“Ze, go get Chi and have him bring two more people.”

By now, Ying Mian’s younglings were no longer as wary of each other as they had been in the beginning, and Ying Mian could take care of them alone.

Because of that, the other caregivers had returned to their homes, only coming over when it was time to feed them.

Since it wasn’t mealtime for the young eagles, Bai Tu sent Lang Ze to find Bai Chi—he would know best who to bring for this task.

As expected, not long after Lang Ze left, Bai Chi arrived with a few sub-beastmen.

The moment they saw the merfolk younglings, Bai Chi and the others were visibly surprised.

“So this is what merfolk look like?”

Since Tu Mu had been the one delivering food, the merbabies were slightly less hostile toward him and the sub-beastmen who came with Bai Chi—but only slightly.

For now, the newcomers could only stand at a distance and observe.

To make feeding easier, Bai Tu had moved the younglings into a larger basin.

So, the first thing Bai Chi noticed when he walked in was their fish tails.

“Chi, you know about merfolk?” Bai Tu was a bit surprised.

After all, everyone else in the room—from Tu Mu to Ying Quan to Lang Ze—had been completely shocked when they realized the fish had turned into younglings.

None of them had even heard of merfolk before, yet Bai Chi’s reaction was much calmer, as if he had already known about them.

“I’ve heard people mention them before,” Bai Chi admitted without hesitation.

“There was a sub-beastman who used to live by the sea. I once saw someone dive into the ocean and never resurface. Later, I heard rumors that they were from the merfolk tribe. But no one actually saw them transform.”

Whether it was the Feathered Tribe or beastmen, everyone was used to seeing each other shift forms.

This was especially true for the cubs—they would transform whenever they pleased, without caring how many people were around.

For adult beastmen, it was the same, and for younglings, even more so.

Most people had witnessed younglings transform since they had grown up watching them, so beastmen were very familiar with both Feathered Tribe members and other beastmen.

But merfolk were different.

They were a species that existed only in legends.

The closest scale-covered species people knew of was the Snake Tribe.

The Snake Tribe could sometimes take a human form with a snake’s tail, but snakes and fish were very different—the former instilled fear, while the latter was beautiful to look at.

Although there were only a few merfolk younglings in the room, none of them had the same tail color, which was already fascinating to everyone.

Most beastmen loved vibrant colors.

Typically, the more colors a beastman had in their animal form, the more popular they were.

The Feathered Tribe followed the same pattern—those with more colorful feathers had a higher chance of finding a mate.

This preference was also why beastmen liked decorating themselves with colorful stones.

Whether it was wearing colorful ornaments themselves or gifting them to their mates, it was considered highly desirable.

Now, seeing tails of different colors, it was as if the merfolk had a built-in allure for both beastmen and the Feathered Tribe.

Because of this, Bai Chi and the others stared in amazement for quite some time before finally remembering why they had come in the first place—the younglings hadn’t finished eating yet.

“Where did these younglings come from?” Bai Chi asked as he took a bowl of minced meat and eggs, feeding one of the merbabies while speaking.

“From the ocean,” Bai Tu sighed, then explained the whole mix-up that had happened by the seaside.

Hearing that the younglings had been chased by large fish, Bai Chi also started thinking over the situation.

“Could it be that the adult merfolk… are already gone?”

Under normal circumstances, no one would abandon their younglings.

Even if faced with danger, the first instinct would be to hide them.

If the large fish had found the younglings, that often meant the adult merfolk were no longer alive.

“Quan said he didn’t see any adult merfolk, and there was nothing unusual on the island either,” Bai Tu explained.

He then described the items Ying Quan had found on the island.

Bai Tu didn’t think the merfolk had been wiped out—if the adult merfolk were all gone, no matter how thoroughly the large fish had eaten, there would still be some traces left behind.

Yet when Ying Quan arrived, he had smelled nothing but the scent of fish—no blood, no signs of a struggle.

Besides, even if the predators were powerful, it was impossible for every single merfolk capable of taking human form to be completely wiped out.

The merfolk had survived in the ocean for countless years—there was no way a few large fish could cause their entire species to go extinct.

Bai Tu was more inclined to believe that the adult merfolk had left for some reason and simply hadn’t arranged for anyone to guard the younglings, allowing the predatory fish to take advantage of the situation.

At this point, the merfolk younglings hadn’t eaten in at least six or seven days.

Each one had only managed to drink about half a bowl of food, which was far from enough to satisfy them.

But Bai Tu didn’t plan to feed them more just yet.

After starving for so long, suddenly eating too much could lead to serious digestive issues.

The blue-tailed merbaby clung tightly to Bai Tu’s clothes, clearly wanting more.

When she realized he wasn’t giving her any, she tilted her head up, looking at him pitifully.

Bai Tu hardened his heart and refused. “No. You’ll eat later. Right now, you can’t have any more.”

The merbaby’s expression visibly fell, looking heartbroken, as if she had just been abandoned.

She clutched Bai Tu’s clothes even tighter, her eyes glossy with tears, which began welling up more and more.

Seeing her like this, Bai Tu almost gave in.

But when he thought about how overeating could harm her, he forced himself to stay firm and shook his head again.

At that moment, the merbaby couldn’t hold back any longer.

With a soft “plop,” her tears finally fell.

“Crying won’t change my answer,” Bai Tu said, trying to ignore the pitiful look on her face.

But then, as soon as he heard the sound of something hitting the ground, he instinctively glanced down—and instantly froze.

“A pearl?”

Ying Quan was equally shocked. “Tu, isn’t this the pearl you described?”

Bai Tu bent down and picked up the small, round pearl.

Its material was nearly identical to the ones Ying Quan had brought back from the bird island, except this one was smaller and more delicate.

Bai Tu stared at the pearl in disbelief. “Merfolk tears…”

He had never expected the merfolk in this world to be just like the ones in fairy tales—their tears actually turned into pearls.

No wonder the pearls Ying Quan had collected were all uniform in size—they were actually formed from merfolk tears.

“So… was she just pretending to cry just now?” Tu Mu felt betrayed again.

Not only had the merbabies rejected them completely, but now they wouldn’t even cry in front of them.

The blue-tailed merbaby noticed Bai Tu picking up the pearl and mistakenly thought he liked it.

Her tears instantly began falling even faster, plop, plop, plop, like a small rainstorm of pearls.

“Alright, alright! No more crying!” Bai Tu hurriedly tried to soothe her.

“I promise you’ll get to eat soon—lots of food, okay?”

As he spoke, he pulled out a clean handkerchief and carefully wiped the tears off her face.

If it were just normal crying, he wouldn’t have been so concerned.

But knowing that her tears turned into pearls made him even more worried.

Who knew what part of her body these pearls were formed from?

Would crying too much affect her growth and development?

Could it cause malnutrition?

To be safe, it was better to prevent her from crying altogether.

After much effort, Bai Tu finally managed to calm her down and let out a long sigh of relief.

“Chi, I’ll have to trouble you all to look after the younglings for a few days.”

“No problem,” Bai Chi agreed immediately.

Their side had plenty of sub-beastmen, and since they couldn’t grow medicinal herbs during the winter, most of them were sitting around with nothing to do.

They had actually been looking for something to keep busy with, so taking care of the merfolk younglings was a perfect task.

“I’ll go get some clothes for them first,” Bai Tu said, glancing at the younglings.

Even though they hadn’t fully transformed into human form, their upper bodies were still exposed.

If they went outside like this, they would easily catch a cold in this weather.

Fortunately, the tribe already had a collection of pre-prepared clothing for younglings, with various sizes available.

Bai Tu selected a few cotton jackets in colors matching the merbabies’ tails and dressed each of them before taking them to Bai Chi’s residence.

The sub-beastmen’s living quarters were structured like a dormitory, but unlike the temporary housing for the Black Hawk Tribe or the Chiwen Tribe, these were permanent residences.

Because of this, each room housed fewer people—typically, four sub-beastmen shared one room.

Bai Tu had designed their beds with an upper bunk and a lower desk, with a small cabinet next to the table.

The desk was mainly used for handling medicinal herbs or for studying together.

Sub-beastmen’s patience in learning was exceptional, and given their past experiences, they had developed an unwavering determination to study.

Even when facing complex characters, they were willing to put in the effort to learn.

Ever since Bai Tu changed the approach—teaching literacy to sub-beastmen first and then having them teach the rest of the tribe—his own workload had decreased by at least two-thirds.

When Bai Tu arrived with the merfolk younglings, several sub-beastmen were gathered together, discussing the effects of a particular herb.

Since they had come from different tribes, some from vastly distant regions across the Beast God Continent, their knowledge varied.

These differences pushed them to continuously exchange information, sometimes even modifying old medicinal recipes in the process.

Bai Tu was pleased to see this—after all, there were many plants he himself wasn’t familiar with.

In the past, his approach had been to simply avoid using any unknown herbs.

But now, as more sub-beastmen learned about herbal medicine, their efficiency in crafting remedies would significantly improve.

The moment the sub-beastmen saw the merfolk younglings, they all paused their discussion simultaneously.

They had been stuck on a particular issue and had originally come to find Bai Chi for advice.

When they arrived and didn’t see him, they had started a new discussion instead—only to now witness Bai Tu bringing in a group of younglings they had never seen before.

“Merfolk younglings?”

Hearing Bai Tu’s voice, Lang Qian stepped out from one of the rooms.

Upon seeing the younglings, his expression filled with surprise.

Like Bai Chi, he had heard the legends of the merfolk—and the sight of their fishtails confirmed it immediately.

“Yes, merfolk younglings,” Bai Tu nodded.

“They’ll be staying here for now. I’ll need all of you to help take care of them.”

The merbabies’ attitudes toward Lang Ze and the others had been completely different from their attitude toward the sub-beastmen.

While they weren’t exactly friendly toward sub-beastmen, at least they didn’t try to bite them every time they got close.

Since Bai Tu couldn’t take care of them himself, he had no choice but to entrust them to the sub-beastmen.

“Don’t worry, Tu! Leave them to us!” One of the sub-beastmen eagerly agreed, eyes sparkling as he stared at the merbabies, as if he couldn’t wait to scoop them up and hug them.

But the merfolk younglings were still indifferent to everyone except Bai Tu.

Though they weren’t outright rejecting the sub-beastmen, their attitude was far from warm—they simply chose to ignore them.

No one minded their aloofness.

After all, according to legend, merfolk would flee at the sight of people—so just seeing merfolk younglings up close was already an incredible discovery.

Only Lang Qian seemed uneasy.

After a moment of hesitation, he turned to Bai Tu and asked, “Tu, which tribe did you rescue these younglings from?”

“Rescue?” Bai Tu looked at him, puzzled. “Are there tribes capturing merfolk younglings?”

Lang Qian glanced around at the others, then lowered his voice and whispered in Bai Tu’s ear:

“The shamans used to say that eating merfolk flesh grants longevity.”

The two greatest desires of the shamans were: To communicate with the Beast God; To achieve immortality

Once the shamans secured their power within a tribe, they would obsessively pursue these two goals.

Communicating with the Beast God meant offering tributes.

Almost every large tribe had a cave dedicated to the Beast God, where offerings of food were placed year-round.

The food was regularly replaced, especially during rituals or when shamans prayed for divine guidance.

As for the second pursuit of the shamans—immortality, it was something they relentlessly sought.

And that was how the legends of the merfolk spread.

Some shamans claimed that eating merfolk flesh could extend one’s lifespan by ten years, while others claimed it could grant several decades more of life.

There were even shamans who believed that finding merfolk would allow them to communicate with the Beast God.

However, these theories were only circulated among shamans—likely because they feared increasing competition.

They never shared this knowledge openly, only occasionally revealing it to their closest family members.

Lang Qian had only learned about it thanks to Hu Nian’s big mouth.

Back then, when Hu Nian spilled the secret, there were only a few people present.

But every single one of them was killed by Hu Que.

Only Lang Gan managed to survive by pretending not to understand anything.

Maybe Hu Que feared that killing everyone would cause unnecessary panic, or maybe he had simply been fooled by Lang Qian’s act.

Either way, Hu Que didn’t come after him that day.

“The merfolk rarely set foot on land,” Lang Qian explained.

“The shamans have tried various ways to capture them, but they’ve failed every time. The coastal tribes also refuse to take them into their territories.”

For the coastal tribes, the ocean was their lifeline—it provided salt, which was their primary trade resource for food.

Some tribes even believed that leading outsiders into their lands without caution would anger the Beast God.

The reason Ying Quan had been allowed to travel with the coastal tribes this time was because they had previously rescued some of their sub-beastmen.

Since Ying Quan and his group were offering solutions to improve food production and negotiate better trade ratios, the tribes agreed to let him accompany them.

However, the West River Tribe hadn’t been as fortunate.

Since they were from a different continent, they were already strangers to the coastal tribes—but on top of that, they had a terrible attitude.

So when they tried to follow the salt-trading tribes back to their settlements, the Eastern and Western salt-trading tribes both refused outright, shaking their heads in unison.

The West River Tribe’s Chief and shamans had considered using force to attack them, but in the end, they never took action.

Their territory was too far from the Eastern Continent’s salt-trading tribes, making an invasion too difficult.

The food they would consume just to travel there was enough to feed their tribe for a long time—so the attack was not worth the effort.

The Western Continent’s salt-trading tribes were off-limits—if they angered them, what if they refused to sell salt anymore?

In the end, neither of the two tribes could be attacked.

Even though Hu Que and his brother were frustrated, they had no choice but to endure it.

For years, they had been searching for merfolk, but even up until their tribe was destroyed, they never found the legendary species.

Bai Tu hadn’t expected such a thing to exist.

Eating merfolk to extend one’s lifespan? That was complete nonsense.

If it were true, the merfolk would have been hunted to extinction long ago.

“These people…” Bai Tu was at a loss for words.

As expected, shamans who used underhanded means to gain power would never stop scheming once they had secured their position.

They were always looking for new ways to control others.

If they had actually managed to capture merfolk, then it would have been no different from how they imprisoned sub-beastmen.

Judging by their methods, they would have locked up the merfolk, forced them to breed, and then sold their younglings for high prices, just like they did with medicinal slaves and rare remedies.

Thinking of the people still imprisoned, Bai Tu decided he needed to discuss this with Lang Qi and Bai Chen.

It was time to take action.

He was worried that if word got out about merfolk in their tribe, certain people might get dangerous ideas.

It was best to take precautions now.

Fortunately, this outrageous rumor had only been heard by Lang Qian.

The others had only heard vague legends about merfolk being rare—nothing about eating them for longevity.

Now that the merfolk younglings had been handed over to Bai Chi’s group, Bai Tu was finally able to leave with peace of mind.

However, just as he was about to go, a merbaby clung tightly to his arm again.

Seeing that she was about to cry pearls again, Bai Tu quickly lifted his hand and patted the heads of each youngling.

“Uncle has things to do, but I’ll come see you tonight, okay?”

The merfolk younglings’ hair was incredibly soft.

Bai Tu wasn’t sure how old they were, but every single one of them had waist-length hair.

Strangely, even when it touched water, it didn’t get wet.

This made Bai Tu even more curious about what they looked like when swimming underwater.

But given the cold weather, he wouldn’t make them stay in the water for long just to satisfy his curiosity.

Instead, he gently patted them again and said:

“Be good and stay warm here.”

Bai Chi was the manager of all the sub-beastmen, so he had his own separate room.

The temperature inside was about the same as the other rooms, making it a comfortable place for the merbabies to stay.

Before leaving, Bai Tu helped remove their thick cotton jackets and replaced them with lighter clothing.

He also brought over some toys.

Since the younglings had spent their entire lives underwater, it was their first time seeing these toys—they were incredibly curious, examining them with great interest.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Bai Tu quietly slipped away, only stopping to say a few words to Bai Chi before leaving.

Since Bai Chi was taking care of them, Bai Tu had no worries.

As he walked back, he began thinking about how to handle the coastal tribes.

Back in the kitchen, he hadn’t just been watching over the merbabies—he had also carefully observed the fish Ying Quan had brought.

Some of them could potentially be farmed, but there were two major obstacles: The large predator fish that had chased the merfolk younglings; The smaller, aggressive fish that frequently attacked people.

If these two threats weren’t dealt with, then no matter how many fish, shrimp, or crabs they tried to raise, they would all just end up as meals for other creatures.

That simply wouldn’t work.

Bai Tu began thinking of ways to separate these species.

But the ocean wasn’t a small pond—isolating them would be a major challenge.

Would digging a pond by the shore work?

Bai Tu shook his head—it wasn’t feasible.

If the goal was to rely on fish farming for survival, then one or two ponds wouldn’t be nearly enough.

At most, they could be used for raising fish fry, but definitely not for large-scale fish farming.

It was better to find a solution directly on the ocean, Bai Tu thought, recalling something he had seen during his past travels—shark nets along the coast.

Those nets were originally meant to protect tourists, but the same concept could be used for fish farming.

By installing shark nets, they could separate the farming area from the larger ocean, preventing dangerous creatures from entering.

If they managed to find adult merfolk, the same method could be used to isolate their nesting grounds, ensuring the younglings wouldn’t be endangered again.

After all, to those massive predators, merfolk younglings were just bite-sized snacks—even slightly larger sea creatures could easily swallow them whole.

The merbabies might be aggressive, but their small size worked against them.

When Ying Quan and his group caught them, their tails had been even smaller—barely the length of an arm.

It was only because they had transformed into human form that their tails appeared larger now.

Otherwise, they would have remained tiny.

Bai Tu didn’t want to see these merfolk younglings in danger again.

If shark nets could work, then they needed to set up protection for both the fish farming areas and the merfolk nests.

As he walked, Bai Tu mentally reconstructed the design of shark nets—figuring out how to anchor them underwater, how to ensure they extended above the waterline, and how to secure support structures to keep them from drifting.

There were many details to consider, but lost in thought, he quickly arrived home from the sub-beastmen’s quarters.

As usual, he washed his hands first before going to check on the younglings—but the moment he entered the room, he noticed something strange.

The younglings’ gazes were… off.

Bai Tu looked at Lang Qi, only to see that Lang Qi was also staring at him.

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced down at himself—there was nothing unusual.

Why were they looking at him like that?

Lang Qi: “Ze said you were holding onto several fish younglings and wouldn’t let go.”

At first, Lang Qi hadn’t believed it.

Bai Tu liked younglings, but he was most attached to his own—his fondness for other younglings was limited.

However, the moment Bai Tu entered, Lang Qi caught a strong scent of fish, confirming that Lang Ze hadn’t been exaggerating.

Bai Tu: “……”

Bai Tu: “They hadn’t eaten in days! I was just feeding them a meal!”

How could he have been clinging to someone else’s younglings?

At most, he had held them for a while.

As for the smell on his clothes, he sighed, “I got it on me while changing their clothes. I’ll go change now.”

The merbabies’ hair didn’t get wet when touched by water, but the rest of their bodies weren’t the same—especially their tails.

When he had lifted them out of the water, their tails had still been dripping, and no matter how careful he had been, it was impossible to avoid getting wet.

It wasn’t just fishiness, though—the seawater itself had a salty scent.

To keep the merbabies comfortable, he had instructed everyone to add sea salt to their water, and the sea salt from the Tata Tribe still carried a slight trace of ocean aroma.

The younglings stared at Bai Tu’s clothes with mixed emotions—they wanted to rub against him but didn’t like the fishy smell.

“Alright, I’ll take a bath and come back.”

Bai Tu quickly showered, changing all of his clothes before returning to the room.

Sure enough, the younglings’ expressions changed—one after another, they climbed onto him.

Finally settled, Bai Tu told Lang Qi about what had happened today.

“Good thing the merbabies couldn’t tolerate freshwater and instinctively transformed into human form.”

Otherwise, they really might have been eaten.

Bai Tu sighed again as he mentioned the merfolk.

They were yet another species that had nearly been persecuted.

He had originally wanted to ask Hei Xiao if he knew anything about merfolk, but then he remembered something—Ying Quan often traveled with Hei Xiao and Hei Yan.

If Ying Quan didn’t know, then it was unlikely Hei Xiao would either.

“By the way, about those shamans…”

Bai Tu covered the younglings’ ears and looked at Lang Qi.

“I’ll leave their punishment to you.”

Every time they uncovered more about the shamans, they turned out to be even more vile than before.

Now that everything had been settled, there was no need to keep them around.

“Alright.” Lang Qi agreed without hesitation.

He didn’t mention the shamans’ current state—Bai Tu had once said that he didn’t want the tribe to be mistaken for ruthless savages, and Lang Qi naturally respected that.

But in private, the Wolf Tribe had its own ways of dealing with beastmen who committed crimes.

Bai Tu held the younglings close, thinking about the merbabies he had sent to Bai Chi.

He couldn’t help but sigh.

“I wonder what happened to the merfolk tribe…”

*

Far away, on a remote bird island…

The Merfolk Chief led a group of adult merfolk, successfully driving away the massive predator fish that had been hunting their younglings.

As she let the ocean currents wash away the scent of blood from her body, she turned and began swimming back.

In the merfolk tribe, males were responsible for giving birth.

Not long ago, new younglings had been born, and the scent of blood had attracted the giant predators.

To protect the newborns, the tribe had hidden the older younglings.

One adult merfolk had taken the newborns to another location, while the remaining adults had stayed behind to fight off the predators.

It was a great honor to defend the tribe.

Not once in merfolk history had they all returned alive from such battles.

To successfully drive away creatures hundreds of times their size and protect their territory—this would become a legend passed down for generations.

A group of merfolk warriors slowly swam back toward the hidden nest where they had left their younglings.

But the moment they entered the cave, they all froze in shock.

“Where are the younglings?!”

“Where are our younglings?!”