Chapter 22
Even though the Rabbit Tribe’s baskets were smaller, two baskets still amounted to over 80 bowls of salt.
In a place where a single basket of meat cost just two bowls, and a small cow could be traded for three or four bowls, two baskets of salt held immense purchasing power.
Even if Bai Tu had eight legs, it would still take him a while to spend it all. So when they set out, Bai Tu only had Bai Qi carry half a basket, which was roughly 20 bowls.
“Xun, Qi, you two protect Tu well.” Salt was precious, and even half a basket was enough to catch unwanted attention. Bai An also called on Bai Xun to accompany them, partly to help carry goods but mostly to ensure Bai Tu’s safety.
Bai Tu didn’t object. After all, he had a long shopping list and wasn’t entirely sure if he could find all the seeds he was looking for.
Meanwhile, Lang Ze was lingering around Lang Qi, trying to make his case. “Brother, I want to go with Bai Tu.”
Lang Qi shot him a glance. “Why would you go?” To slow them down?
“I want to see what Bai Tu buys!” Lang Ze said excitedly. He had a strong hunch that there would definitely be something delicious to eat tonight.
Both tribes had brought limited food supplies, so they would definitely have to buy more from other tribes.
Different tribes had different food specialties.
In the past, Lang Ze hadn’t cared much about such things. After all, no matter how good the food was, after a long journey, nothing could beat fresh meat. But now that Bai Tu was here, things were different. Lang Ze firmly believed that wherever Bai Tu went, there would be good food.
If you asked why, it was simply the unshakable trust of a food enthusiast.
Lang Qi looked at his occasionally sharp-witted brother and, after a moment of silence, said, “Go and ask him. If he’s willing to take you, you can go.”
It was about time his foolish little brother witnessed how real trading was done. Otherwise, one day, he might not even know when he’d been swindled. Or, Lang Qi thought silently, maybe he wouldn’t even need someone to swindle him—he might just jump straight into a trap on his own.
Lang Ze didn’t care what his older brother was imagining. He only caught the last part: You can go. With a delighted howl, he leapt toward Bai Tu. “Bai Tu! Can I come with you?”
“Sure,” Bai Tu said with a wave, beckoning Lang Ze over. He couldn’t deny that some people had an infectious energy about them. Lang Ze’s voice, for instance, radiated a kind of pure, unbridled joy.
But no matter how cheerful Lang Ze sounded, there were still rules to follow. Bai Tu gave him a serious reminder. “When we’re at the market, you’re not allowed to speak. You can’t say anything, no matter what. If you really need to say something, whisper it to me. Don’t talk to anyone else.”
Beastfolk were generally straightforward, but not always. Lang Ze was too naïve—he’d probably get scammed and thank the scammer for the privilege.
“Okay!” Lang Ze agreed readily, not because he was being perfunctory or didn’t take it seriously, but because Lang Qi had already given him similar instructions.
Bai Tu’s rules were actually more relaxed—at least he could whisper to Bai Tu if he wanted to. This was far better than traveling with his brother, where he couldn’t say a word!
It wasn’t until they were about to set off that Lang Ze realized there was one problem.
“Wait… why is my brother coming too?” he asked, blinking in confusion.
Lang Qi raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t want me to come?”
Lang Ze hesitated for a long moment, unable to answer. If he told the truth, he might get hit, but he didn’t want to lie either.
Bai An, on the other hand, was quite pleased with Lang Qi joining them.
Regardless of what kinds of seeds Bai Tu planned to buy, the more Wolf Tribe members with them, the safer they would be.
Sometimes, it wasn’t even necessary to fight—just the presence of strong allies was enough to deter troublemakers.
Those who liked to rob weaker beastfolk usually targeted smaller or frailer-looking groups. The chances of a successful heist were higher, and the risk of retaliation was lower.
Bai Tu didn’t mind either. His thoughts aligned with Bai An’s. After traveling with the Wolf Tribe for so long, he’d come to see them as extremely reliable companions.
Besides, he had nothing to hide regarding what he intended to buy. Whatever else could be said about the Wolf Tribe, their character was trustworthy—they weren’t the type to stab someone in the back.
Lang Ze’s opinion was, of course, not taken into account. With everyone else on board, the group ate a quick breakfast and set off again.
*
That morning, the group had mainly observed the salt-trading tribes. This time, they were finally starting a proper walk around the market.
By mid-morning, the market was noticeably more crowded than before.
Even some of the smaller salt vendors, who had been ignored earlier, now had crowds gathered around their stalls. However, these vendors usually had limited goods. Tribes with fewer resources often brought everyone into the market together, and they hesitated to trade their items recklessly.
The area around the salt stalls was particularly congested, with so many tribes gathered that the paths became blocked.
Bai Tu’s group had no choice but to wait for others to move. Fortunately, no one seemed to be in too much of a hurry, so Bai Tu used the time to observe his surroundings.
Large salt-trading tribes offered the lowest prices but only exchanged salt with tribes that had a substantial amount of food.
The trade was measured by baskets, and smaller tribes or solitary beastfolk had no choice but to go to smaller, more expensive stalls.
The advantage of these stalls was their flexibility—they would accept even small amounts of food. The downside, however, was that their salt prices were significantly higher, and their measuring bowls were much smaller.
For instance, not far from where they entered the market, a group of six or seven thinner-than-a-rabbit beastfolk stood in front of a stall with just three baskets of food—the most common type: roasted meat.
A young beastman running the stall offered them a very low price: one and a half bowls of salt per basket. The group of beastfolk hesitated, clearly torn. The young beastman smirked, unfazed by their hesitation, and said mockingly, “If you don’t trade today, tomorrow you’ll only get one bowl per basket!”
Hearing this, the smallest member of the group wavered. Salt prices did rise as the days went on, and while the increase wasn’t as drastic as the stall owner claimed, it was true that they wouldn’t get as much tomorrow.
The leader of the group looked conflicted. If they traded now, their three baskets of food would only fetch four and a half bowls of salt, which was nowhere near enough to sustain their tribe. But if they didn’t trade, they’d have to delay their return to the tribe by at least a day, and tomorrow they might end up with even less salt.
“Hey, it’s tough traveling so far, and only getting one and a half bowls per basket is just robbery,” called out a wiry, middle-aged beastman from a nearby stall. “Come trade with me. I’ll give you two bowls per basket.”
The mention of two bowls immediately brightened the group’s mood. The smallest member even started heading toward the other stall, only to be held back by the leader. “Which tribe are you from?” he asked cautiously.
“Yellow Monkey Tribe,” the middle-aged beastman replied. “We’ve been trading salt here for over ten years. I’ll give you a better deal because I know how hard it is.”
The Yellow Monkey Tribe was a well-known and reputable group. Hearing this, the leader of the beastfolk visibly relaxed, his guard dropping. He led his companions over to the Yellow Monkey Tribe’s stall. “We have three baskets,” he said.
The young beastman from the first stall sneered as his business was stolen, muttering, “Fine, don’t trade. See if I care.”
Several other beastfolk overheard the Yellow Monkey Tribe’s offer. Those who had been considering the first stall turned away and headed for the middle-aged beastman instead.
Two bowls of salt per basket was undeniably tempting. Though the young beastman from the first stall was visibly annoyed, there was little he could do—his prices weren’t as competitive, and he didn’t have the reputation to back him up.
All he could do was glare enviously at the growing crowd around the Yellow Monkey Tribe’s stall.
Seeing the influx of potential customers, the middle-aged beastman smiled warmly, exuding an air of trustworthiness. “No need to rush,” he called out. “Our tribe has plenty of salt. Just wait your turn—no matter how much food you have, we’ll trade with you.”
To prove his sincerity, he began measuring out salt for the group of thin beastfolk. He used a large bowl—much larger than the standard measuring bowls used by other stalls—drawing even more interest and murmurs from the surrounding crowd.
The middle-aged beastman basked in the attention, his expression full of confidence and goodwill. He motioned for several younger members of his tribe to assist, calling more beastfolk to trade.
One beastman approached carrying a basket filled with food, saying, “Sixty.”
Bai Tu’s sharp ears caught the middle-aged beastman’s response: “Fifteen baskets of food for one basket of salt. No need to transfer to a standard basket—just exchange directly.”
Bai Tu frowned and turned to look at the middle-aged beastman. Something about this didn’t sit right.
As the area cleared a bit, Lang Qi noticed Bai Tu’s expression and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Bai Tu replied softly, “The math doesn’t add up.”
Lang Qi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Bai Tu explained, “The Yellow Monkey Tribe says they’ll trade 15 baskets of food for one basket of salt and won’t require the food to be transferred into standard baskets. But look at their baskets—they’re significantly larger than the ones most tribes use. If they measure salt using their baskets, the actual exchange ratio will be much smaller than 15 to 1. This price is even better than what the Tata Tribe offers, and Qi said the Tata Tribe has the lowest prices in the market.”
Most of the tribes in this region didn’t produce salt themselves; they traded food for it from large salt-producing tribes.
The standard exchange rate was typically between 16 and 20 baskets of food for one basket of salt. While there was some room for negotiation, the rates generally didn’t stray too far from this range. Salt prices in the market were nearly transparent.
By skipping the step of transferring goods into standard baskets, the Yellow Monkey Tribe saved time and effort.
This made the process much quicker, as transferring goods into baskets lined with leaves or animal hides was tedious.
But the convenience only worked if the basket sizes weren’t drastically different.
In this case, the Yellow Monkey Tribe’s baskets were significantly larger than those of the trading tribes, making the deal much less favorable than it appeared. In fact, the actual exchange rate was worse than what the large salt-producing tribes offered.
Moreover, the Tata Tribe only gave such favorable rates to tribes that provided high-quality food. The Yellow Monkey Tribe, however, seemed to accept food without much scrutiny, which made their generous rates even more suspicious.
It wasn’t that Bai Tu had an issue with honest business practices—this just didn’t seem reasonable.
Trading directly with a large salt-producing tribe was like buying straight from the source. There was no way a middleman could offer better prices without taking a loss, unless they had an ulterior motive.
Bai Tu suspected there was more going on here. When Lang Qi agreed with his reasoning, it only strengthened his suspicions. “There’s likely some kind of scam at play here,” Bai Tu murmured.
Unfortunately, the beastfolk trading their food seemed completely enticed by the 15-to-1 offer. They showed no signs of realizing anything was amiss.
Lang Qi glanced at the middle-aged beastman and caught a fleeting glint of triumph in his eyes. He nodded and said, “You’re right—something isn’t right here.”
Beside them, Lang Ze listened to the exchange, utterly baffled but too afraid to speak.
The two tribes had already retreated to a quieter area to finalize their deal. Bai Tu watched as one of the beastfolk, likely the leader, carefully hoisted the basket of food back onto his shoulders.
Lang Qi glanced at Bai Tu’s face, which was clouded with worry. Compared to Bai Tu’s usual easy-going smile, this expression was unsettling. Without thinking, Lang Qi leaned closer and whispered, “Should we go take a look?”
He had never met a healer who would voluntarily help strangers, even those from their own tribe. Most healers only acted if sufficient resources were provided. But the Rabbit Tribe’s healer… well, he was very unique.
However, the fascinating aspects about Bai Tu weren’t limited to just one or two things, Lang Qi thought.
Forget about his remarkable actions along the journey—just take this morning’s negotiations with Ta Gu as an example. Bai Tu was entirely different from any healer Lang Qi had ever encountered. Each day brought something new and unexpected from him, a constant source of surprise.
“Won’t this cause trouble?” Bai Tu asked, seeking clarification. He wanted to get to the bottom of the issue, but not if it would bring unnecessary problems for their group or the tribe.
Lang Qi reined in his wandering thoughts, glancing at the nearby stall where the group of beastfolk were visibly being delayed by the middle-aged beastman. “No problem,” he assured, “Let’s take a look.”
With Lang Qi’s assurance, Bai Tu was completely at ease. Truth be told, if he didn’t figure this out today, this matter would linger in his mind. Salt, after all, was a critical resource for any tribe. If there were problems during the exchange, it could spell months of hardship for the affected tribe.
The group discreetly trailed behind the two parties, maintaining enough distance to avoid drawing attention while still keeping them in sight.
The younger leader’s group appeared to have just arrived that day—they didn’t seem to have set up a resting spot nearby. Instead, they led their people toward a location not far from the market.
After inspecting the food brought by the young leader’s tribe, the middle-aged beastman whispered something to him and then jogged off toward another direction.
Bai Tu and his group quietly moved closer. With so many beastfolk milling about near the market, they didn’t stand out. Once they were close enough to observe without arousing suspicion, Bai Tu tapped Bai Qi on the shoulder. “Qi, put the salt down. I need to check it.”
“Check what?” Bai Qi asked, looking completely bewildered.
Lang Ze, eager to get back to the market, couldn’t help blurting out, “Bai Tu, aren’t we going to trade anymore?” He couldn’t understand why they were leaving the bustling stalls behind.
Raising his voice slightly, Bai Tu explained, “I’ve heard stories about beastfolk slipping stones underneath the salt. From the top, it looks like all salt, but the bottom is packed with rocks.”
As soon as Bai Tu finished speaking, Lang Ze let out an incredulous howl, “Isn’t that cheating?!”
Lang Ze’s reaction was so loud that half of the nearby tribe turned their heads to look. The young leader of the tribe in question also glanced over at Bai Tu’s group, a thoughtful expression flickering across his face.
Well-timed. Bai Tu was pleased with Lang Ze’s outburst and gave him an approving nod. “Exactly. That’s why we need to double-check to make sure there’s no trickery.”
Lang Ze, still reeling from the revelation, frowned in confusion. “But—” he started, wanting to point out that the salt had already been transferred directly into their basket from another during the earlier trade, so how could there be rocks?
Bai Tu quickly interrupted him, “Don’t overthink it. Just put the basket down and check it now. If there’s a problem and we let that salt trader leave, we won’t even know who to hold accountable.”
“Uh… alright?” Bai Qi muttered, utterly baffled by what was happening. But he figured it was best to humor Bai Tu and hurriedly set the basket down. Fine. As long as it makes Bai Tu happy.
Lang Qi glanced at Bai Qi and thought to himself, Another one as clueless as my dumb little brother.
Noticing Lang Qi’s somewhat bemused expression, Bai Qi felt like something was off. He racked his brain, trying to recall if he’d done anything to offend the wolf leader.
But before he could dwell on it further, Bai Tu urged him again to hurry, so Bai Qi focused on emptying the basket. Meanwhile, Lang Qi withdrew his gaze, finally satisfied.
“Pour the salt into Xun’s basket,” Bai Tu instructed. “Honestly, we shouldn’t have skipped the step of switching baskets during the exchange. Using our own baskets is much more reassuring.”
Lang Ze tilted his head, thoroughly perplexed. What are you talking about? Weren’t they already Rabbit Tribe baskets? They didn’t even use our Wolf Tribe baskets!
He wanted to ask but hesitated. The moment he opened his mouth, Lang Qi swiftly reached out and clamped a hand over his little brother’s mouth.
Bai Tu caught Lang Qi’s quick reaction out of the corner of his eye and couldn’t help but silently applaud. What reflexes!
He gave Lang Ze a teasing smile. “Kids shouldn’t talk too much.”
Lang Ze blinked in response. Alright, I’ll keep quiet, but can you let me go now? You’re covering my nose. I can’t breathe.
Only after confirming that Lang Ze wouldn’t blurt anything out did Lang Qi release his hold.
Once Bai Qi emptied the basket of salt into the one carried by Tu Xun, Bai Tu crouched down to inspect it. Picking out a random, harmless leaf from the edge of the pile, he tossed it aside. “Look at that—so many leaves at the bottom. Never mind, there aren’t any stones, so it’s fine. We’ll just sort it out slowly when we get back.”
Lang Qi nodded solemnly, as if this was a serious revelation. “You’re right.”
Lang Ze: “???”
Bai Qi and Tu Xun exchanged puzzled glances, both feeling that something about this situation wasn’t quite adding up, but neither could figure out what exactly was wrong.
The young leader of the other tribe, who had been observing from a distance, was now watching Bai Tu and his group with a subtle expression of suspicion and curiosity. What were they doing?
Lol