Chapter 36
“Of course, it’s for feeding the cattle. What, are you going to eat it yourself?” Lang Ze retorted.
His already poor impression of Shi Peng made his tone even worse. But Shi Peng didn’t even register the tone—he seemed lost in his own world.
Seeing this, Bai Tu grew concerned and asked, “Are you feeling unwell? Why don’t you go back to the cave and rest?”
Shi Peng shook his head. “I’m fine. I can still work.”
“Work can wait; your health comes first. Go rest now.” Bai Tu didn’t give him a chance to argue and firmly guided him back to the cave.
Glancing toward another direction, he called out, “Xun, help look after Peng for me. He doesn’t seem to be feeling well, and I need to head out for a bit.”
Trap hunting didn’t strictly require a specific number of people, and Bai An didn’t want everyone to be out in the field every day.
After discussing it with Bai Tu, they decided that about twenty beastmen would go out daily, leaving a fifth of the hunting team in the tribe. This way, each team member could get one rest day every five days.
Among the beastmen staying behind today, Bai Tu trusted Tu Xun the most, so he called him over.
“On it!” Tu Xun responded. Before Bai Tu even finished speaking, Tu Xun had appeared in his line of sight. “Go ahead with what you need to do. I’ve got this,” he assured Bai Tu.
Feeling reassured, Bai Tu took Lang Qi and Lang Ze toward the cornfields. On the way, he asked about the progress of their planting efforts. “How’s your corn coming along?”
“It’s this tall now,” Lang Ze said, gesturing to indicate the height.
“Not bad,” Bai Tu said approvingly. “It should be ready for proper pollination soon. If it gets too dry, remember to water it.”
He reminded them that adequate water and nutrients were crucial, especially for the first planting season. While the soil still had enough fertility to support growth, water was even more critical.
Everything seemed to be progressing well so far, but it would be a shame if a drought later caused the plants to mature early and reduce yields.
Lang Qi nodded in agreement, about to respond, when Lang Ze suddenly gasped loudly.
“Tu! What is that?!” Lang Ze exclaimed, staring at the large, spinning contraption.
He looked as though he wanted to climb up and investigate immediately. However, with his brother and Bai Tu present, he knew better than to even think about doing something so impulsive—he’d be stopped for sure.
Lang Qi’s eyes flickered with a trace of amazement. He was equally intrigued by the unfamiliar object but refrained from shouting like his younger brother.
“It’s a water wheel,” Bai Tu explained. “It’s still in the experimental phase, but if it works well, we’ll be able to use it for irrigation in the near future.” Since the wolf tribe also needed to water their corn, they could certainly benefit from having a waterwheel. However, Bai Tu didn’t plan on teaching them for free.
“Making a water wheel requires red-leaf wood and stone knives,” Bai Tu continued. “If you want one, you can bring the materials over, and we’ll make it for you.
When it’s ready, you can come pick it up. As for the price…” He paused, considering the relationship between the two tribes before offering a friendly rate. “One waterwheel will cost you either two calves or a litter of piglets.”
The rabbit tribe’s own captured prey was still sufficient for now, but they were far from having enough animal cubs. With the recent abundance of grass they’d collected, they could easily afford to raise more livestock.
Lang Qi examined the water wheel closely, watching as its rotating buckets carried water into the air and spilled it into the trough below. Then, glancing at the stream of water flowing from the outlet, he nodded. “Alright. That works for us.”
“Tu, can you make one without those wooden bars inside?” Lang Ze asked seriously. “I want one I can run inside.”
Lang Qi: “???”
He didn’t know what his dim-witted little brother was up to, but he was certain it couldn’t be anything good.
Bai Tu, on the other hand, was a bit stunned.
But after hearing Lang Ze’s description, he quickly understood—what Lang Ze wanted was essentially a giant wheel. It was slightly different in structure, but it resembled the rolling wheels often used as toys for small animals, like hamsters. From tiny rodents to cats and dogs, such toys were universally loved.
What surprised Bai Tu wasn’t the concept itself but the fact that Lang Ze had managed to come up with it on his own. Not bad, Bai Tu thought. This beastman is on the verge of adulthood and already designing his own toys.
In truth, Lang Ze had always shown a particular curiosity about mechanical items.
During their travels, he had come up with an improved cooking tray that was not only more effective than others’ but also included a small spout to drain excess oil while grilling meat. Though it seemed like a minor modification, it made a huge difference in convenience.
Bai Tu thought for a moment and then agreed, “I’ll make one for you to play with during the winter.”
From late summer to autumn, time would pass quickly, and there was plenty of work to be done.
Recently, Bai Tu had accumulated a backlog of tasks due to various reasons. Making a large, purely recreational tool right now wasn’t feasible, but by winter, there would be plenty of time.
The winters on the Beast God Continent were even harsher than the rainy season.
During that time, most beastmen rarely left their caves. It would be the perfect opportunity to craft toys. Not only could Bai Tu make a rolling wheel, but he could also experiment with designing a small cart.
Satisfied with Bai Tu’s response, the brothers turned their attention to the water wheel. Although they had approached from a direction close to the cornfield, the rabbit tribe’s planting area was well-hidden.
Surrounded by tall trees, the cornfield and water wheel were completely obscured from view, only becoming visible upon closer inspection. It almost seemed as if the water wheel had appeared out of nowhere—no wonder Lang Ze was so excited.
Although both brothers observed the waterwheel, their thoughts were entirely different. Lang Qi focused on its practicality, while Lang Ze thought about how fun it looked.
Lang Ze couldn’t help but regret not pestering his brother to bring him here sooner. If he had come earlier, he could’ve seen this huge contraption being set up.
Bai Tu then explained a few more things. For example, he mentioned that once the corn matured, pests would often appear at the tips of the corn stalks.
“You’ll need to pick off the bugs,” he said.
“If you don’t, they’ll eat the tender buds inside. If the older leaves are eaten, the plant can recover, but if the tender bud is destroyed, the entire stalk is essentially ruined. Even if it grows new buds, it will lag behind the others, and the corn it produces will be much smaller. That would be a real waste.”
He also brought up the issue of weeds. “You can leave the small weeds alone, but the larger ones must be removed. The small ones are scattered and don’t compete much for nutrients, especially since the corn is already taller than a person. At this stage, leaving the small weeds won’t make much difference. But the larger weeds are another story. Some of them are perennial and have extensive root systems that can hinder the growth of the corn plants.”
The brothers took note of these instructions, and Bai Tu shared one more tip that could benefit their fields. “Once the water level drops a bit more, you can dig out the silt that’s exposed and spread it on the fields. It’ll increase your crop yield.”
Bai Tu had no intention of letting the cleared land go to waste.
He planned to use it for multiple planting cycles, whether by rotating corn and wheat or alternating wheat with legumes. Ideally, they could harvest two crops a year—and if the growth cycles were short enough, three crops weren’t out of the question.
While the soil’s natural fertility could sustain initial plantings without additional fertilizer, that wouldn’t be the case in the long term.
If they kept planting without replenishing the nutrients, the yields would steadily decrease.
Reclaiming new land was both labor-intensive and inefficient, and letting depleted land lie fallow to recover took time.
Once all the surrounding land was used up, it wasn’t as if they could endlessly expand. That would force them to relocate, and Bai Tu wasn’t inclined to move anytime soon. He liked this place and wasn’t planning to leave unless the tribe outgrew the area. Being forced to move because of soil depletion would be unacceptable.
Animal manure alone wouldn’t suffice as fertilizer—it required composting and time to break down.
In contrast, river silt was immediately usable and easy to collect. Combining the two would yield even better results. Additionally, Bai Tu planned to make use of silkworm droppings in the future, which could also serve as fertilizer.
With an idea in mind to eventually get the Blood Wolf Tribe to raise and feed silkworms as well, Bai Tu led the brothers to the area where the mulberry trees were planted. Even the cuttings he had planted had grown into saplings by now.
“Tu, will these trees start producing mulberries soon?” Lang Ze asked, thinking back to the time they had spent at the marketplace, eating all the fruit they wanted.
That had been such a blissful experience. The only downside was that the meat wasn’t as varied as what they had after returning home. But since returning, there hadn’t been much fruit to eat, and Lang Ze felt regretful about that.
“They’ll probably fruit next year,” Bai Tu replied. “This year, they might not produce anything.”
He wasn’t entirely sure, though. In theory, mulberries had already passed their usual fruiting season. But on the Beast God Continent, many plants didn’t follow typical patterns, and it was possible they might fruit again. Not wanting to set Lang Ze up for disappointment, Bai Tu gave him an ambiguous answer.
“Oh,” Lang Ze muttered, his ears drooping slightly in dejection. The sight reminded Bai Tu of a pitiful puppy with its ears flattened in sadness.
“There are summer melons and sweet melons growing on the mountain. Once they’re ripe, I’ll let you have some,” Bai Tu said, trying to cheer him up. He had planted plenty of melons, and after the rainy season, he had moved them to a sunnier spot.
“Really?!” Lang Ze perked up instantly, his mood changing as quickly as flipping a page.
Lang Qi, ignoring his brother’s antics, pointed to the mulberry trees and asked Bai Tu, “Why are the leaves already picked clean? Did the silkworms hatch?”
“No, not yet. I just have someone helping me now, so the leaves are being harvested faster,” Bai Tu said, gesturing toward the caves.
Shi Peng had proven incredibly helpful, though it was a shame he couldn’t stay forever.
Having a reliable worker like him around was convenient, but it wasn’t practical to keep him long-term. After all, Bai Tu still had other things to do, and keeping a potential spy around wasn’t ideal—especially one who had likely been planted by someone else.
Lang Qi glanced at Bai Tu, recalling Shi Peng’s distraught expression earlier when he’d heard that the grass was meant for feeding cattle. He realized there was still a lot he didn’t understand about Bai Tu’s way of thinking.
“Oh, by the way, you two should take him with you when you leave,” Bai Tu said. “Keeping him here isn’t practical. For one, the rabbit tribe’s combat strength is lower than the lion tribe’s, so having him here means we need to keep more people in the tribe for safety. It also limits how far our hunting team can go. If we weren’t trying to figure out his true purpose for being here, we would’ve sent him packing the day he woke up.”
“What tipped you off that something was off about him?” Lang Qi asked, recalling the frail-looking lion who was still scrawny after several days in the rabbit tribe. “How did you figure out he’s still connected to his original tribe?”
Bai Tu looked up at the mulberry tree in front of him and explained, “He claimed he’d been starving for nearly half a month, but he recovered after drinking just half a bowl of water and immediately spilled everything about his background. By the second day, he was full of energy, climbing trees without issue and stripping several trees of their leaves without breaking a sweat.”
Shi Peng’s timing had been far too convenient, arriving just after the rainy season when the tribe was busiest. He had claimed to have been mistreated for over a decade, wandering lost in the rain without food, but his rapid recovery and seemingly endless stamina were suspicious.
Moreover, there were inconsistencies in his story. When he spoke about Shi Hong, he was full of hatred, but when he mentioned Hu Bu, his tone shifted. When he talked about how Hu Bu had remained unharmed under Shi Hong’s protection, there was clear joy in his eyes.
There was also one easily overlooked issue—his injuries.
A deep, bone-revealing wound in the summer should’ve been much harder to heal. His fondness for Hu Bu, combined with his supposed injuries, made his story eerily similar to Tu Cheng’s past.
Bai Tu was naturally cautious of the lion tribe, and Shi Peng’s behavior only heightened his suspicions.
From his strong physical condition that didn’t align with someone supposedly starving for years, to his excessive interest in the tribe, to his initial attempts to ingratiate himself with the children by offering food—none of it sat right with Bai Tu.
Shi Peng wasn’t wrong about one thing: the Wild Lion Tribe was in desperate need of food, and their current situation was dire. This made Shi Peng even more anxious, as if he wanted to learn every skill the Snow Rabbit Tribe had to offer as quickly as possible.
To keep Shi Peng stable while also trying to figure out what he was up to, Bai Tu deliberately kept him close and gave him limited free time.
As expected, Tu Zhou and Tu Xun discovered that Shi Peng would sneak out every evening or two, always at dusk. However, he would return quickly after leaving something behind.
His timing was strategic—he’d sneak out when the hunting and gathering teams were returning to the tribe, when most of the beastmen were preoccupied with celebrating their successful hunts and harvests. If Tu Zhou and Tu Xun hadn’t been keeping a close eye on him, they wouldn’t have noticed.
The Snow Rabbit Tribe had initially been focused on defensive measures, worried that the Wild Lion Tribe might try to sneak around and attack them. However, combined with the information Lang Ze had brought back, Bai Tu pieced together the truth: they weren’t planning a sneak attack. Instead, they were trying to copy the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s methods in order to survive the upcoming winter.
The reshuffling of lion territories had hit the Wild Lion Tribe the hardest.
Reportedly, about a third of their beastmen had defected to other tribes. Most of these were from the oppressed lower ranks, who had suffered for years under Shi Hong’s leadership.
Since they were lions regardless of where they went, joining another tribe wasn’t a huge change for them—especially when the Wild Lion Tribe treated them so poorly. Those loyal to Shi Hong were primarily the beneficiaries of his rule, while the oppressed beastmen were far more inclined to leave.
Lang Qi considered Bai Tu’s analysis and nodded in agreement. “It does seem suspicious.”
Lang Ze, however, looked back and forth between Bai Tu and Lang Qi, feeling completely out of the loop. After a while, he finally couldn’t hold back and asked, “Brother? Tu? What are you guys talking about?”
Bai Tu grinned. “We’re talking about how the Wild Lion Tribe tried to steal a chicken but lost the rice as well.”
Lang Qi didn’t understand the phrase at first, but after a moment of thought, the meaning clicked. Lang Ze, on the other hand, became even more confused after the explanation.
“Don’t worry about it,” Bai Tu said, patting Lang Ze on the shoulder. “Go climb that tree and break off some branches.”
Not just the rabbit tribe, but the wolf tribe was also busy preparing for the winter and the next market. The brothers would have to return soon, so they needed to gather some mulberry branches now.
Once Lang Ze had broken off a few branches, Bai Tu taught them how to plant the bushes.
“If your tribe wants to raise silkworms, you can. If not, you can just send over the mulberry leaves. We’ll raise the silkworms and give you a share of the silk. You can use it to make clothes—it’s much lighter than animal hides and perfect for summer. You can also make silk quilts to keep the cubs warm in winter.”
What Bai Tu envied most about the wolf tribe was their numbers.
Even after accounting for four hunting teams and several gathering teams, they still had over two hundred beastmen left in their tribe. With that many people, they could easily handle planting, food processing, and other labor-intensive tasks.
Even if the wolf tribe didn’t help with food production, something as simple as planting mulberry trees could be delegated to them. After all, the silkworms’ appetite was terrifying—they could devour piles of mulberry leaves in a single day.
Depending solely on the rabbit tribe to raise them wasn’t feasible.
Lang Qi agreed readily. He didn’t think the wolf tribe would need things like silk quilts or clothes, but if they couldn’t use them, they could always trade them for other supplies. Overall, it was a deal that wouldn’t result in any losses.
After discussing various matters, Bai Tu went to the cave where they kept live prey and brought out a few lively fish.
He carried them in a bamboo basket back to his cave. Unbeknownst to him, Shi Peng—who was already exposed—was waiting in the neighboring cave. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Shi Peng immediately came out and asked, “Tu, where did you all go?”
Hearing how Shi Peng addressed Bai Tu, Lang Qi gave him a sidelong glance.
Bai Tu lifted the bamboo basket in his hand and smiled. “We went to catch some fish. Lang Ze wanted to eat fish, so I’m going to cook some for him.”
Thinking about how Shi Peng must have been anxiously pacing in the cave, straining his ears to figure out what they were doing, Bai Tu felt amused.
Shi Peng’s gaze lingered on the plump, lively fish in the basket. “How did you catch them? Why didn’t I see you catching fish before?” he asked.
Bai Tu’s smile deepened. “I didn’t feel like eating fish before. Today, I wanted to.”
How could I let you see how we catch fish? Bai Tu thought to himself. Anything I let you see has to be something useless for you to learn.
“Is fish not very tasty?” Shi Peng steadied his thoughts and casually asked, “Are the tribe’s food supplies running low? Is that why you’re eating fish?”
“Mm, they are a bit low, but it’s fine,” Bai Tu replied offhandedly. “We have backup supplies prepared, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
After saying that, Bai Tu handed the fish to Lang Qi, asking him to clean them.
Lang Ze, eager to volunteer, shouted, “I can do it too!” but the two of them completely ignored him. If Lang Ze were tasked with it, the fish would probably end up bitter, full of guts, or worse.
Although Lang Qi hadn’t visited the Snow Rabbit Tribe often, his sharp memory served him well.
He remembered where the rabbits typically processed their food. With practiced efficiency, he cleaned the five fat fish with a few swift movements, descaling and gutting them in one seamless motion. After sampling fish on a few occasions during their journey, it had become a staple in the Blood Wolf Tribe’s diet.
While Lang Qi was cleaning the fish, Shi Peng was still trying to probe for information about the tribe’s so-called “backup supplies.”
No matter how many ways he asked, Bai Tu remained tight-lipped about their winter preparations, maintaining an air of calm confidence that left Shi Peng seething with frustration.
He wanted nothing more than to shift into his lion form, grab Bai Tu, and force him to spill the secrets.
But that was only a fantasy. Attacking outright, especially during the day, was impossible—not with Lang Qi and Lang Ze present, both of whom were more than capable of holding their own.
Shi Peng couldn’t even make a move at night.
Strangely enough, the moment he lay down in the cave, he’d fall asleep and wouldn’t wake until morning. Even sneaking out to deliver messages to his tribe was a challenge—he could only manage it at dusk, as he couldn’t stay awake at night.
Shi Peng busied himself stoking the fire, masking the malice in his eyes.
Tonight, he resolved, would be different. He wouldn’t sleep. No matter what, he had to act—he had to figure out what the Snow Rabbit Tribe was hiding. If he didn’t, it would be too late for the Wild Lion Tribe.
When they had fled their original territory, they had brought only a pitiful amount of salt with them.
Since they hadn’t had enough prey to justify a trip to the market, the tribe had been unable to restock.
Even after half the injured members starved to death, their salt reserves were still critically low. The tribe needed to trade for more salt before the snow season arrived.
Shi Peng glanced at Lang Ze from the corner of his eye, silently weighing the possibility of kidnapping him to threaten Lang Qi.
Lang Ze was the Blood Wolf King’s younger brother. If he were captured, the Wolf King would surely intervene, perhaps even forcing Bai Tu to leave the Snow Rabbit Tribe.
Shi Peng alone couldn’t carry Bai Tu away, but if he could involve the Wolf King, things would be different. After all, everyone knew the Wolf King was strong enough to defeat Shi Hong.
Perhaps he could even coerce the Wolf King into killing Shi Hong… Shi Peng’s thoughts spiraled further.
If Lang Qi eliminated Shi Hong, Shi Peng could return to the Wild Lion Tribe as its new leader. The tribe members who had bullied him before would have to bow to him. Even Hu Bu—yes, Hu Bu—could finally become his mate. The two of them could finally overcome their differences in status and be together…
Lost in his fantasies, Shi Peng grew increasingly distracted. He even forgot about the task at hand.
By the time Bai Tu returned with Lang Ze, carrying salt and seasonings to prepare the fish, they were greeted by a mess at the cave entrance. Sticks and twigs were scattered everywhere, and sparks from the fire had flown in all directions.
Lang Ze, holding a stone pot, was clearly displeased. “Are you stupid? You can’t even light a fire properly?!”
Shi Peng, startled out of his scheming, nearly jumped out of his skin. He fell backward onto the ground and looked up to see Lang Qi staring at him coldly. A chill ran down Shi Peng’s spine, and sweat broke out across his body.
“Tu, this guy is way too useless. Just let my brother take him away. I’ll stay here and help you!” Lang Ze said, pitching his idea enthusiastically. “I’m way more capable than him! Look at him—he can’t even light a fire properly! How is someone this dumb qualified to stay by your side?”
“No, no! That won’t do!” Shi Peng shook his head frantically. The brothers’ scolding had shattered his daydreams completely, leaving him with only one clear thought: I can’t go to the wolf tribe. If he went, he’d have no way to uncover the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s hidden food supplies or maintain contact with his own tribe.
“You can’t even do anything! All you do is make trouble!” Lang Ze retorted angrily. He turned to his brother and complained, “Brother, this guy is so useless—it’s ridiculous!”
I knew he was up to no good! Thank you for the chapter