Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – CH176

Chapter 176

A faint sound echoed. Bai Tu glanced around.

“What are you looking for?” Lang Qi followed his gaze but saw nothing.

Bai Tu whispered, “Did you just hear someone speak?”

Lang Qi shook his head. “No.”

Even Lang Qi, who was the closest to him, hadn’t heard anything. Bai Tu realized that it seemed like he was the only one who did.

Recently, strange things had been happening more than once. Maybe it was just exhaustion? The upcoming rainy season would be a good time to rest, Bai Tu thought.

The official opening of the Beast God Temple was finally scheduled for the third day of the rainy season.

Normally, light rain lasted between three to seven days, sometimes even longer. Regardless of its duration, they would surely be able to complete the ceremony before the heavy rains arrived.

Once the date was set, the beastmen in the tribe visibly grew excited, as if a long-held wish was finally coming true.

Bai Tu had mixed feelings about the tribe’s devotion to the Beast God. On one hand, there were indeed a few events that were difficult to explain. On the other hand, he felt that many people relied too heavily on the Beast God.

He sighed. He didn’t have the same unwavering faith in the Beast God as the others, yet he had still prioritized building the temple. A major reason for that was his concern that someone might exploit this belief. Since the temple had to be built, he wanted to keep it within his control.

On the third day of rain, even before the usual work hours, the tribe was already bustling with activity.

Bai Tu woke up to the sound of movement outside. Looking at Lang Qi beside him, he felt as if the two of them didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the tribe.

“I think I had a nice dream last night.” Bai Tu rubbed his shoulder. He couldn’t recall the exact details, but he vaguely remembered feeling happy in the dream.

“I dreamed about you.” Lang Qi leaned down and kissed Bai Tu’s ear before getting up to help the young ones get dressed.

Bai Tu had always believed that the beastmen of the Snow Rabbit Tribe weren’t as blindly devoted to shamans or the Beast God as those from other tribes. But he realized he had been mistaken. It wasn’t that they didn’t worship the Beast God—it was that they never had the opportunity to do so. The restriction that only shamans were allowed to offer sacrifices had prevented most beastmen from openly expressing their reverence.

In some tribes, even praying to the Beast God required approval from a shaman. If a beastman was caught worshiping in private, they would be punished, and the shaman would claim that such actions would anger the Beast God. The beastmen, unable to distinguish truth from deception, were left with only fear. Over time, not only did tribes with shamans enforce this rule, but even those without shamans followed it out of habit.

Now, however, with the construction of the Beast God Temple and Bai Tu’s declaration that anyone could make offerings to the Beast God, everything changed.

Would the Beast God get angry if they worshiped freely? Well, this wasn’t just one person doing it—everyone was.

Besides, Bai Tu could be considered a shaman himself—perhaps even more knowledgeable than the average shaman. Many of the sub-beastmen in the tribe were descendants of former shamans, yet none of them objected to what Bai Tu said. That must mean he was right!

It didn’t take much for the tribe to convince themselves. More importantly, the past two years had gone smoothly for the tribe, so they naturally believed that the Beast God had approved of Bai Tu’s statements.

With the official opening of the temple finally happening, it had become one of the most significant events in the tribe. Most of the tribe hadn’t even slept properly the night before, too eager for the ceremony to begin.

Bai Tu, however, remained calm. He took his time having breakfast with the young ones before heading out—only to find that the others had been waiting at the temple entrance all morning.

Feeling a little helpless, he sighed. The ceremony was originally scheduled for later, but seeing everyone’s excitement—even the Black Hawk Tribe members stationed here were waiting—he couldn’t bear to make them wait any longer.

During the initial discussions about the temple’s construction, some had suggested using the blood of Wu Jiu and his followers as a sacrifice to the Beast God.

But when the temple was finally completed, the beastmen all regretted the idea at the same time.

The temple was too clean. They didn’t want to stain it with the blood of those people.

So, the execution site for Wu Jiu and the others was relocated elsewhere.

Bai Tu didn’t ask any questions about it—Lang Qi would handle everything.

Bai Tu’s attention was focused on the Beast God Temple. With so many people present today, whether or not the Beast God truly existed, he had to ensure that everything remained under control.

The sub-beastmen were also present. Among them, Bai Chi was the most familiar with the rituals of worshiping the Beast God. However, the last time he had participated in such a ceremony was over twenty years ago. Looking at the newly built temple and recalling the scene from back then, he felt as if he had lived another lifetime.

“Tu,” Bai Chi reached out and led Bai Tu to the very center of the temple, sighing as he said, “Back then, the old shaman brought me here the same way.”

Despite his words, today’s ceremony was vastly different from past worship rituals. Bai Chi guided Bai Tu, placing the carefully prepared offerings on the table inside the temple.

Bai Tu glanced toward the large carving on the back wall—the one he had originally drawn and that Lang Qi had later engraved. Something about it felt different from the last time he had been here, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

Before he could dwell on it further, Bai Chi reminded him to begin the ritual.

Worshiping the Beast God had always been a duty reserved solely for shamans. Bai Chi sighed inwardly—Bai Tu still refused to acknowledge himself as a shaman. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

Strictly speaking, when Bai Chi had been captured by the Black Forest Tribe, he had not yet officially become a shaman; he had only been an apprentice. However, having grown up under the guidance of a shaman, he had developed an innate trust in them. Even after everything that had happened, the image of a true shaman in his heart remained that of his gentle, caring mentor from the past.

But Bai Tu was different. Bai Chi knew what Bai Tu had gone through before regaining his freedom. Even though Bai Tu rarely spoke about those experiences—sometimes skipping over them entirely—they had been imprisoned for so long that it was impossible not to know what kind of suffering sub-beastmen cubs endured in those tribes.

For Bai Tu, the image of a shaman had been utterly destroyed by Wu Jiu and his followers. Bai Chi didn’t know if Bai Tu would ever change his view.

Because of this, even though Bai Tu possessed all the qualities of a great shaman, Bai Chi had never once suggested that he take on the role. Instead, as the tribe continued to prosper, he had only occasionally brought up the idea of worshiping the Beast God.

At least Bai Tu, despite his distrust of shamans, had agreed to build the Beast God Temple.

Bai Chi lowered his head and knelt obediently on the ground.

May the Beast God bless us. May all sub-beastmen live with the same dignity as ordinary beastmen.

He never wanted anyone to go through what they had experienced again.

Bai Tu, prompted by Bai Chi’s reminder, hesitated slightly. For some reason, he always felt a faint resistance toward worshiping the Beast God.

He glanced at Bai Chi, who was earnestly praying, and then at the countless tribesmen waiting behind him.

After a brief pause, Bai Tu turned his gaze toward the carved figure before him.

He placed the remaining food on the table, and finally, he set down two cups of fruit wine.

Logically, if there were only one Beast God, a single cup of wine would suffice. However, for some reason, Bai Tu felt compelled to place two cups. Lately, he had been experiencing these inexplicable urges, and when they weren’t harmful, he usually chose not to resist them.

For instance, with these two cups of wine—most beastmen wouldn’t care whether there was one cup or two on the table—so Bai Tu simply followed his instincts and placed both.

The fruit wine had been brewed from fruits harvested after winter. At the start of spring, fruits were scarce, and they had searched for a long time just to gather a small amount. Back then, Bai Tu had wanted to experiment with making two bottles, planning to produce more in bulk after the rainy season. 

Now that the Beast God Temple had officially opened, he recalled how many significant occasions were accompanied by wine, so he had prepared a bottle for the ceremony. Muttering inwardly about the saying “When the heart is sincere, the gods will know,” he lightly poured just enough wine to cover the bottom of the cup.

Outside, the rain suddenly intensified, splattering loudly. Some of the beastmen standing at the edges hurried to find shelter.

The Beast God Temple, built just outside the residential area, was large, but it wasn’t possible to cover the entire space with rain shelters. Like the tribe’s homes, only the temple’s interior and its surrounding corridors were protected from the rain, while the rest of the area was open-air.

Earlier, the rain had been a light drizzle—gentle and refreshing, not at all uncomfortable—so no one had worn waterproof beast hides. In fact, despite there being space inside the temple, many had deliberately stepped out into the courtyard to enjoy the rain. Now, with the sudden downpour, they were caught off guard.

Bai Tu listened to the raindrops drumming against the roof. He glanced down at the wine in his hands, then lifted the cup, as if about to pour it onto the ground.

At that moment, the heavy rain abruptly ceased, returning to a light drizzle.

Bai Tu lowered the cup and, instead of spilling it, filled both cups to the brim. In a quiet voice, he remarked, “Fruit wine is sweeter than white liquor.”

The sub-beastmen and female beastmen of the tribe all loved fruit wine, while the male beastmen were divided—some adored it, while others avoided it entirely. Of course, most beastmen couldn’t afford to be so extravagant; they could only exchange points for a small sip.

After pouring the wine, Bai Tu carefully rearranged the other offerings.

Suddenly, the steady drizzle outside came to an end.

For the first time in days, the sun emerged, its warm rays quickly drying the soaked clothes of the beastmen.

The weather had always been unpredictable, but never had it shifted so dramatically—changing three or four times in mere moments. Strangely, after the sun had dried their clothing, the heat didn’t persist. Though the sun still shone, the temperature felt more like spring or autumn—pleasantly mild.

Excited murmurs spread through the gathered beastmen until someone suddenly exclaimed, “The Beast God has manifested!”

More and more voices echoed the sentiment, their emotions running high. Many even dropped to their knees in reverence.

To them, it was undeniable—just moments ago, the rain had drenched everyone, only for the sun to appear suddenly and dry them off, without leaving behind any oppressive heat. Only the Beast God could have caused such a miraculous change.

Bai Tu glanced outside before slowly withdrawing his gaze. Then, he gestured for the others to step forward and make their offerings.

Each person held food they had exchanged with their hard-earned points. Some had fruits, others rare snacks, while those who arrived late could only get staple foods. Regardless of what they had, they carefully placed their offerings on the table, mimicking Bai Tu’s earlier actions to arrange the food more neatly.

Rather than a traditional worship ceremony, it felt more like a wish-making ritual. Many beastmen, unused to speaking in their hearts, simply voiced their desires aloud. Since they all had naturally loud voices, the room quickly filled with a cacophony of different wishes and prayers.

Bai Tu glanced around at the beastmen in the room and suddenly wondered—if the Beast God were truly present, would they find all this noise overwhelming?

Though the crowd was large, the scene remained orderly. Since everyone was used to lining up at the canteen, they naturally formed lines here as well. Just like during meals, they queued in several rows, moving forward step by step as those ahead finished their prayers.

Bai Tu thought it resembled the temples he had seen before. Based on his experience, such a lively place was probably similar to a Temple of Wealth.

But people didn’t seem to be praying for wealth here.

Just as he had this thought, the beastman at the front of the line, Bai Dong, knelt down and declared, “Great Beast God, please bless me with lots of points this year!”

Bai Tu: “…”

Spoke too soon. He had just thought that no one was praying for wealth, and here it was. For beastmen, points were essentially the same as money in later generations.

Since there was only one god in the Beast God Continent, the prayers people offered were wildly diverse—some wished for a mate, some hoped to snag new food from the canteen, some prayed for children… The requests covered every possible desire.

Listening to the beastmen’s wishes, Bai Tu silently took note of them.

Mates? He couldn’t provide that.
Children? Also beyond his ability to help.
New dishes in the canteen? That, at least, he could do something about.

What Bai Tu didn’t realize was that this simple action—paying attention to their wishes—would later establish the Beast God Temple as a massive wishing pool.

There were still many people in line, but seeing that they remained orderly and excited without any signs of disorder, Bai Tu decided to leave the rest to Bai An.

Bai An had managed the Snow Rabbit Tribe for a long time. Though he was no longer the leader, his authority remained. More importantly, this wasn’t just any location—it was the Beast God Temple. No one dared to cause trouble in such a sacred place. So even with the large crowd, everything remained under control.

Bai Tu stepped out of the temple and saw that the sky had completely cleared.

Such weather was rare in the rainy season of the Beast God Continent. Typically, once the rains started, there were only a few breaks in between, and even when the rain stopped, the sky usually remained overcast. But today, the sun shone brightly, and yet, it wasn’t uncomfortably hot. Even in the middle of spring or autumn, such mild and pleasant weather was uncommon—let alone during the peak of summer.

Since no one knew when they would see the sun again, Bai Tu decided to take a walk before heading back.

To be honest, he was still thinking about what had happened today. But stepping outside, he suddenly realized how ridiculous his own thoughts had been. Even if the Beast God truly existed, there was no way a single cup of wine would have made a difference. It must have been a coincidence, Bai Tu told himself.

Lang Qi walked beside him. Neither of them had brought their cubs today. Given the number of people at the temple, it was impossible to rule out the possibility of someone carrying a cold or fever. Adult beastmen wouldn’t be affected, but cubs were more vulnerable and easily infected. Not just their cubs—all children under ten in the tribe had been instructed to stay home today.

Of course, Bai Tu understood the tribe’s deep reverence for the Beast God. So yesterday, he had already arranged for children under ten to visit the Beast God Temple over the next two days, accompanied by their families.

Compared to what most people had imagined, today’s ceremony was incredibly simple. Those who had suggested sacrificing whole pigs, cows, or sheep to the Beast God had all been firmly rejected by Bai Tu. Instead, the offerings consisted only of fruits and their regular food.

Additionally, the stone table inside the temple was enlarged, so despite the large number of worshippers, the offerings remained neatly arranged without any chaos.

Bai Tu gave a quick instruction to Tu Mu, telling him to collect the offerings once the ceremony was over. After all, the worship was just a ritual—once it ended, the food should naturally be gathered and eaten. Wasting food was never an option. Even though the tribe now had an abundant supply and no one was going hungry anymore, Bai Tu still maintained his habit of never wasting food.

“Calculate the total points everyone spent on supplies these past two days and distribute an equal amount of snacks back to them,” Bai Tu added. 

He had no intention of using the Beast God worship to drain people’s points. It was hard enough for beastmen to earn them. The food exchange was just a formal step to prevent anyone from taking offerings randomly.

At the same time, Bai Tu mentioned to Tu Mu that the new food items seemed popular, so they could consider gradually increasing their availability.

Tu Mu agreed and then asked Bai Tu about some specific details before heading off to organize the empty carts.

One of the cooks, confused, asked, “Tu Mu, all the ingredients for lunch have already been brought over.”

Since the weather was hot, the tribe prepared meals three times a day, meaning they had to fetch ingredients from the main storage before each meal. The midday ingredients were already gathered, and many had been washed and prepped—the next step was cutting them. So why was Tu Mu taking the cart now?

“Nothing important. I just noticed some dirt and wanted to clean it up a bit,” Tu Mu said, waving off the concern. Of course, cleaning wasn’t the real reason—he simply wanted to clear the carts now so they’d be ready to bring the offerings back later, once everyone had finished worshiping.

*

After leaving the canteen area, Bai Tu and Lang Qi headed home. Along the way, they passed Hei Xiao’s house. The door was open, and in the courtyard, Hei Xiao was playing with a few cubs.

Bai Tu realized that his earlier worries had been unnecessary. He was reluctant to part with Hei Xiao, and naturally, Hei Xiao felt the same. So, this rainy season, Hei Xiao had simply decided to stay.

Hei Yan, of course, wasn’t happy about this. No matter what he said, Hei Xiao refused to return to their own tribe just yet. After all, during the rainy season, even if they went back, they wouldn’t be able to go out anyway—it would be the same as staying here. Except in the Hundred Beasts Tribe, Hei Xiao could see Bai Tu often.

After failing twice to convince Hei Xiao, Hei Yan finally gave up—but only after making Hei Xiao promise to return with him after the rainy season.

Hei Xiao agreed, deciding that from now on, he would spend the snow and rainy seasons here with Bai Tu, while the rest of the time, he would return to his tribe to be with Hei Yan.

Having secured at least half the year, Hei Yan reluctantly left the Hundred Beasts Tribe and returned to the Black Hawk Tribe. Although his house was already built, this was the first rainy season since the tribe’s restructuring, and as the chief, he needed to stay and oversee things.

Hei Xiao had brought the cubs outside because the sun was finally out—just like Bai Tu, he knew that this kind of weather was rare during the rainy season, and who knew when they’d get another sunny day? So he took the chance to let the cubs soak up some sunlight.

Bai Tu went over to play with the cubs for a moment and then told Hei Xiao about what had happened at the Beast God Temple.

Hei Xiao looked at Bai Tu and reached out to pat his head. “You’ve grown up.”

To him, Bai Tu was still that tiny, adorable little rabbit, but in the blink of an eye, Bai Tu had led the tribe to where it was today.

Hei Xiao felt a deep sense of pride—this was his younger brother, and his brother had truly become the most powerful sub-beastman on the Beast God Continent.

No—not just the most powerful sub-beastman, but the most powerful beastman.

After all, no one else could do what Bai Tu had done—turning a tiny, struggling tribe into the massive Hundred Beasts Tribe in just two years.

Even large tribes like the Blood Wolf Tribe or the Black Hawk Tribe had taken years, even decades, to reach their current size. Bai Tu had done it in just two years. Now, the food he prepared could feed two entire tribes and still have leftovers.

This kind of prosperity was something they had never even dreamed of—not even in their wildest fantasies.

Hearing Hei Xiao’s sudden sentimentality, Bai Tu reached out and hugged him.

“Yeah, I’ve grown up.”

Bai Tu also felt that time had passed so quickly—it felt like he had only just woken up, but two years had already gone by.

The most obvious proof was the cub—already over a year old. However, because of Beast God Continent traditions, Bai Tu hadn’t celebrated the cub’s birthday.

Here, until a cub turned three years old, everything had to be done with extreme caution. Any special events or celebrations had to wait until after the cub reached three.

So Bai Tu followed local customs—on the cub’s first birthday, he simply invited Lang Ya and Lang Ze for a meal.

Lang Ze, as usual, didn’t notice anything special and happily enjoyed the food, while Lang Ya, perhaps remembering the significance, made sure to hug the cub before leaving.

Bai Tu looked at the three young eagle cubs in the cart. As they grew, their features had changed slightly—it was now easier to tell them apart, even without the strings.

But Hei Xiao still kept his old habit—tying different-colored strings to their legs.

“It’s just more convenient,” Hei Xiao explained.

After all, it wasn’t just them who interacted with the cubs—other beastmen who visited less frequently also came by. And those visitors would always ask the same questions:

“Which one is the eldest?”
“Which one is the second-born?”

It didn’t matter what species—they all wanted to identify the eldest cub and rub a bit of luck off them.

Hei Xiao didn’t mind people asking, but answering the same question over and over every day got annoying.

Besides, the cubs did have subtle differences, but only close family members could easily recognize them—outsiders often couldn’t tell.

So keeping the colored strings was just easier. When people asked, he could simply point at the string color instead of having to explain each cub’s unique traits or line them up for comparison every time.

Bai Tu checked the tightness of the strings, ensuring they weren’t too tight on the cubs before feeling reassured. Watching the little ones, who could now stand up and reach for the cart’s fence, he had a bad feeling.

“Brother, they’re not going to get out, are they?”

Because of the little troublemakers at home, Bai Tu had a bit of a psychological shadow when it came to cubs near fences—he always felt that the moment they got close, they would immediately find a way to climb out.

Hei Xiao shook his head. “Not yet. They usually won’t be able to fly until they’re at least a year old.”

Even though they had grown a bit and changed since birth, they were still far from being able to fly, so Hei Xiao wasn’t worried.

Bai Tu let out a sigh of relief—as long as they couldn’t escape, it was fine.

But just as they were speaking, one of the cubs near the fence suddenly shifted position, spread its wings, and slipped vertically through the bars.

Hei Xiao: “…?”
Bai Tu: “…”

Sure enough—he had relaxed too soon.

These cubs were all little geniuses when it came to breaking out—they always managed to escape in ways no one expected.

“We’ll need to get the carpenter to bring some nails and secure a horizontal barrier all the way around.” Bai Tu said.

The cubs looked round and plump, but they were actually very flexible. Their skeletons were small, surrounded by a soft layer of baby fat, making them super squishy—and when it came to escaping, that softness became an advantage. A gap that seemed impassable could easily be squeezed through with just the right position.

Hei Xiao nodded firmly—they would nail it down immediately! No cub was escaping on his watch.

After spending some more time with Hei Xiao and the cubs, Bai Tu returned home to take over from Lang Ya, who had been helping watch them.

“Ya, there shouldn’t be too many people at the Beast God Temple now. You can go take a look.”

Earlier, Lang Ya had stayed behind to help with the cubs because there were too many people at the temple. Now that the crowd had likely thinned out, it should be a good time to go.

“You’ll be back just in time for lunch,” Bai Tu added.

Lang Ya agreed, handed over the cubs to Bai Tu, and headed off toward the temple.

Since the big cubs were at school and only the three youngest ones were at home, they were all curled up together, fast asleep.

But when they heard Bai Tu’s voice, the cubs slowly woke up, opened their eyes, and—seeing that Bai Tu was really there—patted the spot next to them, motioning for him to lie down.

“Daddy’s not sleeping.” Bai Tu rubbed the cubs’ heads. He had woken up early that day, but it wasn’t naptime yet. At the very least, he had to wait until after lunch.

Hearing Bai Tu’s refusal, the smallest white wolf cub whimpered pitifully.

Bai Tu had a weak spot for cubs being affectionate, and even more so for the smallest one. So after calling out to Lang Qi, he went to change his clothes and decided to lie down with the cubs for a while. As long as he didn’t fall asleep himself, it would be fine.

But the moment Bai Tu lay down, sleepiness hit him.

Thinking that Lang Qi would take a while to finish cooking, he closed his eyes, planning to rest just for a moment.

Lately, he had been busy checking on the Beast God Temple, the pond, and the fields. Though it wasn’t as exhausting as the days right after winter ended, he hadn’t had much downtime either.

Very soon, Bai Tu fell into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized he was no longer in bed.

Bai Tu froze for a moment, then felt the warmth of the cubs in his arms. Looking around, the place felt strangely familiar.

The little wolf cubs seemed to sense his movements and woke up one by one. When they saw the scene outside, they happily patted Bai Tu, excited.

It was then that Bai Tu suddenly remembered.

Wasn’t this the place he had dreamed of before the cubs were born?

Back then, he had spent a lot of time with Lang Qi, and whenever he slept, he would often dream of this place.

Looking around, Bai Tu was now certain— it was exactly the same as the place he had seen in his dreams before.

He knew it was a dream, but everything felt incredibly real.

Yet, he wasn’t afraid at all.

Bai Tu lowered his head, picked up each cub, and gave them a kiss.

“Daddy will take you on a little tour.”

It had been over a year since he last dreamed of this place, and he found it fascinating. Thinking back, the first time he had this dream was right when he had just conceived the cubs.

And when he first saw them in the dream, the little white wolf cub had been much weaker than now.

Realizing this, Bai Tu felt proud— he had raised his cubs so well! They were healthy and strong.

Carrying the cubs, Bai Tu walked forward.

Not far ahead, there was a house.

Before, this place had been just a cave— and not just any cave, but one that couldn’t be opened.

Now, the cave had become a house.

And at first glance, it looked very familiar.

As Bai Tu got closer, he saw the house’s full appearance—and realization struck.

Wasn’t this their tribe’s Beast God Temple?

His dream and reality were somehow connected?

And even more incredibly, the dream had “updated” itself in real time.

Feeling curious, Bai Tu walked up to the entrance and pushed on the door.

“Creak—”

The door opened.

Bai Tu stepped inside.

The interior was identical to the Beast God Temple he had designed—even the floor tiles were exactly the same.

Since he had designed it himself, he knew every detail.

Walking through the hallway, Bai Tu headed for the central chamber and pushed the door open.

Just like before, it opened easily.

Stepping inside, he saw that nothing had changed.

Today, the main Beast God Temple outside the residential area had been opened to the public. But the smaller one inside the living quarters had been designated by Bai Tu as the resting place of the Beast God—so it was never meant to be publicly accessible.

He hadn’t even left the key anywhere—it was still in his possession.

Bai Tu didn’t dwell on the fact that he had entered without using a key—his attention was entirely focused on the wall at the back.

Though the room was small, it had everything it needed: the Beast God statue, the offering table for placing food during rituals, and the kneeling mats for worship. Since Bai Tu had insisted on building this temple, he had ensured that no corners were cut, making it a small but fully equipped space.

What truly caught Bai Tu’s attention, however, wasn’t these furnishings—it was the patterns carved into the walls. On both sides, the engravings followed the designs he had originally drawn, enlarged proportionally by Lang Qi.

Lang Qi had an innate talent with a knife—even though he didn’t practice often, his carvings were almost identical to Bai Tu’s drawings.

But now, Bai Tu was absolutely certain—the patterns on the wall were different from what he had originally drawn.

He had seen the Beast God Temple in the residential area before, and Lang Qi had carved that one correctly—so why was this one different?

Bai Tu stepped around the stone table and moved closer to the wall for a clearer look.

Next to the fierce dragon head, there was a rabbit.

At first glance, Bai Tu could tell this rabbit wasn’t him.

A while ago, he had closely examined his own features while debating whether the jade rabbit figurine represented him. He had upright ears, while this rabbit’s ears drooped downward. His eyes were black, whereas this rabbit’s eyes were red.

Hmm?

Bai Tu suddenly realized another major difference between this temple and the one in the residential area—the dragon here was completely black.

The dragons carved in the tribe’s temple hadn’t been painted—only the outlines had been sculpted, leaving them the same color as the stone wall. But here, the dragon had been dyed black.

Bai Tu stared at the engraving for a moment and decided that once he woke up, he would modify the real design to match this one.

After examining it for a while, he shifted his gaze. He wasn’t sure how time flowed in the dream compared to the real world, but he was starting to feel a little hungry—and the cubs had begun to whimper as well, clearly hungry too.

There was nothing edible inside the temple—just stone furniture. Bai Tu was certain this place was still sealed off, meaning there wouldn’t be any food here.

So, he decided to go outside and explore—maybe he could find something to eat.

This wasn’t his first time dreaming of the vast grasslands outside, and based on past experience, he couldn’t wake himself up at will. Usually, he could only leave the dream naturally by sleeping and waking up again.

Since there was no point in struggling, Bai Tu embraced the dream and took the cubs to search for food.

After all, this was his first time returning since the cubs were born, and he missed this place a little.

Back then, he had known nothing about this dream world, so he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings—but now, he wanted to take a closer look.

Stepping outside the Beast God Temple, Bai Tu immediately noticed something had changed.

The landscape was no longer an endless grassland—now, a mountain had appeared in the distance, with some trees at its base.

If this were real life, Bai Tu would never recklessly explore an unfamiliar place.

But this was his dream.

And in his dream, he feared nothing.

Carrying the cubs, he walked toward the foot of the mountain.

Suddenly, he heard a sound coming from a cave nearby.

The voice was extremely familiar—Bai Tu felt like he had heard it very recently.

As he approached, the voice became clearer.

The person inside seemed completely unaware of his footsteps outside and continued to pray in a low voice:

“Beast God above, please bless the sub-beastmen… I am willing to give up everything…”

Hearing these words, Bai Tu froze mid-step.

Now he remembered where he had heard this before.

The last time Bai Chi had talked to him about offering sacrifices to the Beast God, he had taken a nap.

And just before falling asleep, he had heard a furious voice, followed by someone trying to calm the situation.

The voice trying to persuade back then was identical to the voice inside the cave now.

Bai Tu raised his hand and knocked twice on the outside of the cave.

But despite the sound he made, the person inside didn’t react—they just continued praying.

The small white wolf cub in Bai Tu’s arms nudged him, reminding him to keep moving.

Bai Tu lowered his head to glance at the cub, then spoke two sentences into the cave.

The person inside still didn’t respond.

He slowly stepped forward.

When he finally got a clear look at the person in the cave, Bai Tu’s breath hitched—it was Bai Luo!

Even though his memories of Bai Luo were vague and fragmented, he recognized him instantly.

This was Bai Luo.

Bai Tu hurried inside and called out:

“Father?”

There was still no response.

Bai Tu raised his hand, intending to tap Bai Luo on the shoulder—but his hand passed straight through him.

Bai Tu immediately pulled back, realization dawning on him—this wasn’t happening in the present.

It was a projection of the past.

In front of him, Bai Luo had already stopped praying and was now staring blankly at the stone wall ahead.

Following his gaze, Bai Tu saw several faint, blurry lines carved into the rock.

He looked around.

The cave was a mess—stone tables and stools were scattered haphazardly, and aside from the spot where Bai Luo knelt and the Beast God statue on the wall, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, as if no one had lived here for a long time.

Bai Tu quickly determined—this wasn’t a cave from the Blood Wolf Tribe.

He had seen the Blood Wolf Tribe’s shrine before.

Even after all these years, it remained spotless.

Whenever the shaman wasn’t present, someone would clean it daily. And when the shaman was there, it was kept even more immaculate.

Even though Bai Tu’s memories of Bai Luo were limited, he knew Bai Luo would never allow a shrine to fall into such neglect and disarray.

There was only one explanation—this wasn’t a place Bai Luo normally lived in.

Piecing things together based on Bai Luo’s past, Bai Tu deduced:

Bai Luo had likely left the Black Forest Tribe not long before this moment.

By chance, he had stumbled upon an abandoned cave—a cave that had once been used for worshiping the Beast God.

Since Bai Luo was a shaman, his first instinct upon discovering such a place was to offer prayers.

But his prayers went unanswered.

The Beast God did not appear.

Bai Luo must have realized that his prayers were futile—and so, his despair only deepened.

Not just for himself, but for the sub-beastmen who were still imprisoned in the Black Forest Tribe—for those who had suffered to help him escape.

Bai Tu could feel the helplessness in Bai Luo’s heart.

Just as he was processing it all, a man dressed in black suddenly materialized out of thin air inside the cave.

The man’s entire body was wrapped tightly in black clothing, concealing everything.

The moment the black-clad figure appeared, the cub in Bai Tu’s arms let out a fierce cry.

It was the second time Bai Tu had ever heard them snarl like this.

The first time was in that half-dream, half-awake state.

Recalling that previous incident, Bai Tu glanced at the scene unfolding before him—then slowly turned his gaze toward Bai Luo, still kneeling on the ground.

He didn’t even have time to react.

The black-clad man was already walking toward Bai Luo, who seemed to have completely lost all hope.

Bai Tu gritted his teeth.

And for the first time, he cursed aloud.