Chapter 48
Due to the limited tools available, clothing made from animal hides was fairly simple.
To make a pair of pants, a suitably sized hide would be cut into a neat rectangular piece, folded in half, and the short edges sewn together with bone needles to form a tube. For a top, the long edges would be sewn together, and a hole cut out for the neck. The designs couldn’t get any simpler.
The bottom garments resembled skirts more than pants, and both skirts and trousers made by the tribe were intentionally sewn loose.
For someone like Bai Tu or Hei Xiao, they always needed to modify the fit afterward.
Most beastmen, however, didn’t bother with such adjustments; as long as the garment didn’t fall off when worn, it was considered good enough. If necessary, a strip of hide or vine could be used as a belt to secure it.
For beastmen with larger builds, clothing made of animal hides was particularly prone to damage—partly because their beast forms stretched the fabric when they transformed, and partly because their claws often tore through the material during the transformation process.
Wolves and hawks, in particular, grew larger in their beast forms. Bai Tu realized that Hei Yan’s beast form was actually much bigger than when he had first seen it, and unsurprisingly, his animal hide had been shredded evenly to pieces.
Bai Tu paused for a moment, then returned to the cave and brought out three more hides.
He didn’t really need them for himself—his own clothing had been customized and fitted. The hides he had were extras, set aside just in case, though he hadn’t expected them to be used so soon.
Meanwhile, the two fighters had moved their brawl from the dining area to a nearby clearing.
Since there wasn’t enough space to fight properly indoors, they had naturally migrated outside. Bai Tu had never seen beastmen fighting in their beast forms before and found it rather novel. Holding his bowl, he ate as he watched with interest.
The others did the same—eating while spectating.
Hunger was part of the reason, but more importantly, having something in their hands kept them from jumping into the fight themselves. Watching made their hands itch for action.
The Wolves, while munching on their food, kept stealing glances at Lang Qi.
Most of the time, they were under Lang Ze’s direct leadership and only needed to follow his rules.
But when Lang Qi was present, they deferred to him—after all, even Lang Ze couldn’t escape being scolded by Lang Qi when he stepped out of line.
If Lang Qi hadn’t been there today, the Wolves would’ve already jumped into the fight without hesitation.
Not to help their leader, of course—they just wanted to scratch their itch for a brawl. But with Lang Qi watching, the young Wolves were cautious.
They looked at each other nervously, none of them daring to be the first to act.
Punishment was a certainty, and whoever led the charge would undoubtedly receive the harshest punishment. For once, the restless teenagers showed some strategic thinking: they planned to wait for someone else to move first. The first to act would take the brunt of Lang Qi’s scolding, while those who joined later might get away with lighter punishment in the ensuing chaos.
“Awooo—!” Amidst the Wolves’ hesitation, Lang Ze was swiped by Hei Yan midair.
Sometimes, having wings was an advantage. Wolves in their beast forms could only jump so high, and Lang Ze, unable to reach Hei Yan, was furious as he watched him circle in the air.
After successfully landing his hit, Hei Yan looped around and prepared for another strike from behind.
But Lang Ze, having noticed the move, remained still. Just as Hei Yan closed in, Lang Ze leapt and twisted midair, flipping onto his back with all four claws aimed upward.
He swiped Hei Yan’s wing hard, sending a jolt through it. The impact caused Hei Yan to falter, his flight path wobbling as he glided forward before coming to a stop. Then he turned around and retaliated.
The young Wolves, unable to hold back any longer, transformed into their beast forms and leapt into the fray. Some charged at Hei Yan, while others pounced on Lang Ze. Friend or foe, it didn’t matter.
To them, anyone on the field was fair game. The only rule was to fight—who hit them didn’t matter, as long as they landed more hits than they took, they considered it a victory.
Bai Tu / Lang Qi / Hei Xiao / Bai An / Mao Lin: “…”
And now the wolf pups had joined the chaos.
Bai Tu: “…”
Great. Now the pants were ruined too.
Mao Lin began to doubt her earlier concerns. Could these Wolves really pose a threat to the Cat Tribe? Was she overthinking things?
Reality quickly proved that there was indeed a problem—not a threat to their safety, but to their intelligence. Too many Wolves in one place was a recipe for chaos.
Beastmen fights generally fell into two categories: controlled and uncontrolled.
When sparring among themselves, they were capable of managing the direction and force of their attacks.
Hunting and fighting were different skills, and sparring with one’s own kind was different from fighting outsiders. A properly controlled spar ensured no serious injuries—just some pain at most.
This was why no one stopped them when they started brawling.
For certain tribes, these scuffles were excellent training for hunting skills. However, in the midst of the chaos, accidents were inevitable. Like now—one Wolf accidentally swiped too hard at another, leaving a gash.
The injured Wolf yelped in pain and instinctively turned around to retaliate with a bite, leaving two perfect bite marks on their opponent.
Bai Tu: “…”
With two more injured Wolves added to the count, Bai Tu sighed and went to fetch some medicine.
Lang Qi remained expressionless throughout, as if the injured Wolves had nothing to do with him. That lasted until the two injured Wolves hobbled over to him.
Injured and feeling sorry for themselves, the young Wolves sought comfort from their leader, hoping for a hug.
Lang Qi, however, clearly wasn’t in the mood. He glared coldly at the pair, both of whom were technically old enough to be considered adults. His stern gaze lingered for a moment before he reluctantly held back the urge to swat them away.
Not getting chased off means he’s accepted us! The two Wolves immediately flopped down at Lang Qi’s feet.
If it were Lang Ze, they would have happily rubbed up against him. But with Lang Qi, they wouldn’t dare attempt such a move—what awaited them wouldn’t be affectionate cuddles but a firm smack.
For now, not being kicked away was a victory. Pitifully, they waited for Bai Tu to return with the medicine.
It hurts so much…
One Wolf had an injured foreleg, and the other had hurt their shoulder.
The injuries weren’t severe, but Bai Tu faced a new dilemma when he saw their large, furry beast forms. Wolf fur was thick and dense, making it difficult to apply medicine properly without shaving the area first.
Seeing Bai Tu’s furrowed brows, Lang Qi glanced at the injured Wolves, his expression cold as though he were weighing something in his mind.
Shaving the fur would be a hassle. Bai Tu patted the two Wolves and said, “Shift back to human form.”
Treating their injuries in beast form would be impractical. Fortunately, the wounds were small, and shifting wouldn’t affect the treatment. Some disinfectant and a bit of ointment would suffice.
The chaotic scuffle ended with two injured Wolves and a battlefield littered with feathers and fur.
Some of the Hawk Tribe had joined in during the commotion, leaving a mess of plucked feathers and tufts of wolf fur scattered across the ground.
When someone tried to sweep the mess aside, Bai Tu, who had just finished treating the Wolves, quickly stopped them. “Wait! Don’t throw it away yet.”
There weren’t many feathers, and Bai Tu hadn’t thought of a specific use for them yet. But the wolf fur was different.
All the Wolves involved in the fight had been juveniles, so the fur left behind was still their soft, downy coat. Despite their large, imposing forms, their pup fur was incredibly soft. Bai Tu picked up a handful and rubbed it between his fingers. It felt like it could be quite useful.
“This fur could be spun into blankets or sweaters,” Bai Tu thought aloud. “It’d be perfect, especially since these beastmen waste so much hide. Turning it into fabric for clothes could help cut down on waste.”
He turned to Bai Qi and instructed, “Gather all the fur and put it in my cave for now.”
At present, they didn’t have a loom—or even a spinning wheel. Plus, the amount of fur collected was still small, so Bai Tu decided to store it until they had enough to make something worthwhile.
Lang Qi, who had been keeping an eye on the Wolves that were now awkwardly shifting back into human form and scattering into the corners, glanced at the pile of fur when he heard Bai Tu’s comment. “Wolf fur… is useful?”
Bai Tu nodded. “It’s useful, but there isn’t enough of it to be used for anything right now.”
Whether for making clothes, blankets, or other items, the amount needed was far more than just a little bit. This pile of wolf fur wasn’t even enough to make a large blanket.
After he spoke, not only did Lang Qi fall silent, but all the Wolves went quiet for a moment.
Wolf fur? They had tons of it—so much that they didn’t even know where to throw it most of the time.
Nearly every wolf’s cave was littered with loose fur.
The more diligent Wolves would clean up their caves and toss out the fur regularly, while the lazier ones would simply shift into their beast forms, lie down, and let the fur accumulate. Eventually, it would pile up enough to make an entire bed.
Feeling a bit regretful, Bai Qi interjected, “Does it have to be wolf fur? What about Rabbit fur? Can’t that be used?” He thought the Rabbit Tribe’s shed fur wasn’t inferior to wolf fur, so it was a shame if it couldn’t be used.
Mao Lin added, “What about Cat fur? Can we use that?” Although the Cats were smaller in size, they shed fur too. There might not be as much, but if it could be useful, it was better than letting it go to waste.
Bai Tu: “…”
He had forgotten—every one of these species, without exception, shed fur like crazy. In fact, there were hardly any species in the Beast God Continent that didn’t shed, especially during seasonal changes.
When he woke up in the middle of summer, the shedding season had already passed. Plus, most beastmen, even those in the same tribe, didn’t casually shift into their beast forms unless necessary—except for that group of rowdy Wolf teenagers.
As for himself, he hadn’t shifted into his beast form since that one time.
These factors had caused him to overlook the reality that beastmen shed fur, and the amount they shed was proportional to their size.
A modern large dog could shed an incredible amount of fur in a year—so imagine Wolves or Rabbits, which were much larger than dogs. Among the three beast tribes present, only the Cats were relatively smaller.
While the others were enthusiastically volunteering their contributions, Hei Yan, once again, looked displeased. What was with these other tribes? Did they think the Hawk Tribe was useless?
“Feathers?!” Hei Yan exclaimed loudly. “Do you think Hawks don’t have enough feathers? How many do you need? I’ll pluck them all right now!”
The first half of his sentence sounded reasonable, but the second half? What on earth?! Hei Xiao, clearly annoyed, smacked him on the back of the head.
The Wolves glanced at Hei Xiao, who appeared quiet and gentle on the surface, and silently shuffled a little further away from him. They moved closer to Bai Tu instead—Not every soft and gentle beastman is easy to deal with. Bai Tu is still the best. He gives us food and even helps with our injuries.
Bai Tu noticed the growing pile of fur and feathers and gave new instructions. “Don’t send these to my cave anymore. Put them in the second-to-last empty cave instead.”
Although the Cats might not have much fur stored up right now, judging by the reactions of the Wolves and Rabbits, the amount of fur could quickly pile up. If it were all sent to his cave, it’d probably fill the place entirely.
“As for Hawk feathers,” Bai Tu quickly added, worried Hei Yan might actually start plucking himself bald, “we don’t need them right now. When we do, I’ll let you know. You can just collect some from the tribe then—no need to pluck them on the spot.”
The Hawks in the group visibly relaxed, some even trembling slightly. Of course only you feel the pain of losing your own feathers.
“Hmph.” Hei Yan, however, was clearly dissatisfied with Bai Tu’s dismissal of Hawk feathers. Their feathers are extremely useful! How could he not see that? What a lack of appreciation.
Just as Hei Yan was about to launch into another tirade about the value of Hawk feathers, Hei Jian shoved him toward the cave. “Go rest,” Hei Xiao said, cutting him off.
Hei Yan grumbled but reluctantly walked into the cave. Fine. As long as Hei Xiao is here, everything will be handled!
Several members of the Hawk Tribe had practically shrunk their heads into their shoulders, fearing they’d be chosen by their leader as an example for feather-plucking.
Hearing Hei Xiao’s intervention, they let out a collective sigh of relief. Thank goodness their unreliable leader has such a reliable partner.
Bai Tu had underestimated just how much fur beastmen could shed. By the afternoon of the second day, Bai Qi came looking for him to report: the second-to-last cave was already full.
The Wolf Tribe had around four to five hundred members, while the Rabbit Tribe had just over eighty.
The Rabbit Tribe had recently done a full cleaning of their caves, so their collected fur wasn’t much. But the Wolves? That was another story entirely. Each member had brought three or four large baskets of fur.
“Lang Ze said they’ve only brought over half of it so far,” Bai Qi added, clearly astonished at the sheer amount, which was far more than anyone had anticipated. With one cave already full, he’d come to Bai Tu to ask what they should do next.
“Use the last cave too,” Bai Tu decided.
The two caves had originally been set aside for winter crafting and processing, but for now, they’d serve as temporary storage.
After giving his instructions, Bai Tu went to inspect the cave where the fur was being stored.
The scene that greeted him was shocking. Since there weren’t enough baskets to go around, all the fur had simply been dumped directly onto the ground.
Wolf fur was light and fluffy, and even the slightest breeze sent it scattering everywhere. With so much fur gathered in one place, the area around the cave was practically a cloud of floating wolf fur.
Picking up a handful, Bai Tu examined it.
Wolf fur was made up of two layers: the outer layer, which was long and coarse for protection, and the inner layer, which was soft and dense for insulation.
The fur they had shed was primarily the inner layer.
The Rabbit Tribe’s fur was similar, and the fur of beastmen was generally longer and thicker than that of ordinary animals. Whether it was wolf fur or rabbit fur, the quality wasn’t inferior to modern sheep’s wool. This mountain of fur was exactly what Bai Tu needed.
In the end, the wolf and rabbit fur filled up two entire caves.
Bai Tu then led a group to craft a batch of wooden combs, which were distributed to all the Wolves and Rabbits, as well as the Cats and Hawks. He instructed everyone to comb themselves regularly and demonstrated how to use the combs.
Beastmen typically groomed their fur with their claws or mouths, so seeing combs for the first time was a novelty.
That very night, many tried them out. Since combs couldn’t be used in beast form, they had to rely on others for help, grooming each other in turns.
The next morning, Bai Tu was woken up by Lang Ze.
“Bai Tu! The comb broke!” Lang Ze complained. With his large size and the comb being made of wood, it hadn’t lasted long before snapping mid-grooming.
Bai Tu: “…”
Fortunately, he had some spares on hand and gave Lang Ze a new one.
At the same time, he reminded him, “Comb gently. If you hit a knot, untangle it first before continuing!”
With how the Wolves ran around all day, their fur was bound to be a tangled mess. The fact that the comb had even lasted one night was already impressive.
*
After staying with the Snow Rabbit Tribe for seven days, the Hawk Tribe finally left, taking food supplies with them.
They were supposed to have returned several days earlier, but Hei Yan and Lang Ze had been competing with each other, constantly comparing everything—especially the number of cubs they caught.
Hei Yan was at a disadvantage due to having fewer people but refused to leave until he outperformed Lang Ze.
With Lang Qi’s permission to hunt on Wolf Tribe territory, Hei Yan was determined to beat Lang Ze no matter what, which delayed their departure. It wasn’t until Hei Yan finally bested Lang Ze in one round that he was willing to leave.
Their constant rivalry, however, was a boon for the Rabbit Tribe.
The number of captured cubs skyrocketed, and the cave designated for raising prey animals was quickly filled, spilling over into adjacent caves. By the time the caves were redistributed, all the remaining empty ones had been occupied as well.
Meanwhile, the task of cutting grass was far from over. The sheer number of cubs meant that an enormous amount of forage would be needed for the winter, leaving the Rabbits busier than ever.
On the second day after joining the tribe, the Cat Tribe began contributing to the workload. Mao Lin, as the leader, displayed both courage and capability.
After spending most of the day learning from Bai Dong and others, she had mastered identifying nearly all the necessary plants. She then took charge of the Cats, organizing them to handle tasks such as cutting grass.
Knowing that several Lions had been captured sneaking into the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s territory, Mao Lin voluntarily took responsibility for supervising them.
This arrangement worked out well: the Cats cut the grass, the Lions transported it, and the idle Rabbit beastmen were free to handle other tasks.
Meanwhile, Bai Tu decided to bring forward the weaving work.
With such a large quantity of fur stored in the caves, leaving it there indefinitely wasn’t an option. Moreover, the woolen products he planned to make would be needed for winter, so the work couldn’t be postponed like the iron refining projects, which could wait until colder months.
Bai Tu’s plan was to first guide everyone in spinning the fur into yarn and then use the yarn to weave blankets and other warm textiles.
Most animal hides weren’t as practical as they seemed.
The skins of large prey were often stiff and inflexible, and their fur had to be removed to leave behind just the leather.
While hides offered good defensive properties, they weren’t very insulating—many hides felt hot in the summer and cold in the winter.
By contrast, wool products made from the soft, insulating undercoat of beastmen were far better for warmth. This undercoat, which beastmen shed during seasonal changes, was incredibly soft. The finished products were so plush that touching them felt like stroking a cub.
When the first batch of yarn was ready, Bai Tu made a decision: the woven goods would be finished before the next market day.
If the tribe’s beastmen needed them, they could keep them for personal use. If not, they could sell them at the market.
The first person to learn the spinning process under Bai Tu’s guidance was Tu Cai, who had already been handling similar crafting tasks in the tribe.
Tu Cai’s learning ability was exceptional, and she mastered the technique almost immediately, becoming proficient on the same day Bai Tu taught her.
Using the yarn spun on the first day, Bai Tu wove a small, round mat about the size of a chair seat.
“Bai Tu, this would be perfect for the cubs,” Tu Cai said as she ran her fingers over the soft mat. She immediately thought of the young ones in the tribe.
Cubs faced the highest mortality rate during winter, with cold weather being the primary cause. Adult beastmen could shift into their animal forms to endure the freezing temperatures, but cubs, even in their beast forms, were still vulnerable to the cold. During winter, they had to burrow under the fur of adult beastmen to stay warm.
However, this wasn’t always possible. Adults and cubs both needed to eat and take care of personal needs, and during those times, the cubs were at great risk. Even a moment’s carelessness could lead to illness.
When adult beastmen fell ill during winter, they mostly endured some discomfort for a while before recovering. But for cubs, illness was far more dangerous.
If they were lucky enough to survive, they would grow up weaker than their peers. However, most cubs didn’t survive long after getting sick—they often passed away within a short period.
The first three years of a cub’s life were the most difficult, with every winter being a major hurdle.
As Tu Cai held the soft little mat in her hands, she thought it could be used to wrap cubs, much like animal hides, but far softer and warmer than hides ever could be.
“We’ll definitely make some for the cubs,” Bai Tu said with a nod.
Even without Tu Cai’s suggestion, he had already planned to reserve a portion of the softest and finest mats for the cubs. After all, the purpose of these creations was to improve the tribe’s living conditions.
Even if they planned to sell the products later, it would always be on the condition that their own tribe’s needs were met first. And when it came to cubs, they would naturally use the best materials available.
“That’s good to hear.” Tu Cai felt reassured. Having been responsible for the tribe’s cubs for so long, she always tried to secure anything that could make their lives better.
Weaving was a meticulous task for beastmen.
Tu Cai had learned it quickly, but it was clear that not everyone was as suited to the task.
Bai Tu’s initial plan had been to assign idle beastmen to learn spinning, but the results were far from ideal. Many simply couldn’t handle the work—not because they were beginners struggling to learn, but because it was as if they completely lacked the skill or patience needed for it.
One reason was temperament.
Most beastmen were naturally impatient due to their habits, and even the generally calmer Rabbit Tribe members struggled. On their third failed attempt at spinning, some of them nearly broke the tools in frustration.
These spinning tools had been painstakingly designed and built by Bai Tu based on his limited memories of spinning wheels.
It had taken him two days just to construct the first spinning wheel.
The tools were fragile compared to the strength of beastmen, and careless movements could easily damage them. After noticing the problem, Bai Tu immediately adjusted his approach. He restricted spinning lessons to those who were already skilled in crafting, such as weaving.
Those with weaving experience tended to be more meticulous and patient.
They were less likely to give up easily and were more attentive during lessons. Once Bai Tu made this change, things finally started to progress smoothly, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Even with the improved efficiency, the two caves full of wool would take a long time to process. Meanwhile, other tasks couldn’t be neglected.
After teaching for a few days, Bai Tu and Tu Cai selected ten or so beastmen who were particularly adept at spinning to continue the work, while the others returned to their previous duties.
Beyond spinning, Bai Tu also reorganized other tasks to ensure everyone was assigned to work they were more skilled at. This saved time and energy while improving overall efficiency. He made every effort to distribute tasks in a way that left everyone as satisfied as possible.
However, Bai Tu soon discovered a problem, and it wasn’t an isolated incident.
Some people were slacking off.
Previously, the Snow Rabbit Tribe had consisted only of Rabbits.
With just over eighty members, about half were in the hunting and gathering teams, and another half of the remaining members were cubs. The rest stayed in the tribe, contributing to tasks within their ability, such as weaving, collecting firewood, and other light chores.
As Bai Tu began assigning more tasks and the workload increased, nearly all the beastmen were busy during the rainy season.
Everyone understood that their collective efforts would lead to a better season. The more they worked before the rains arrived, the fewer days they’d go hungry later. Motivated by this, everyone did their best.
The period following the rainy season also went well. Bai Tu occasionally came up with new and delicious dishes, which kept morale high.
The newly introduced tools, such as waterwheels and cabinets, also piqued everyone’s curiosity and enthusiasm, making them more invested in their work.
Later, the arrival of the Hawk, Wolf, and Cat Tribes added even more activity, and the entire tribe was busy for a time.
During these busy periods, there might have been instances of slacking off, but overall, the workload was heavy enough to keep most beastmen focused.
In addition to completing their assigned tasks, many beastmen also wanted to redecorate or improve their caves.
Now, however, Bai Tu’s crops had begun to ripen.
The corn, which had been planted later, was still small and likely needed another month before it would be ready for harvest. But other crops were already being harvested in stages, such as melons, chili peppers, potatoes, and beans.
The chili peppers and melons had been planted from seeds brought back from the market.
Though planted slightly late, their shorter growth cycles meant they were ready quickly. The potatoes and beans, on the other hand, had been planted from seedlings brought back by the gathering team.
These plants grew rapidly after the rainy season, with noticeable progress each day. Even if not fully harvested yet, it was clear they were almost ready.
While the quantity of each crop type wasn’t huge, the variety was substantial.
To Bai Tu, it still felt a bit limited in terms of diversity, but for the beastmen, it was their first time seeing so many fruits and vegetables ripening at the same time.
Previously, they had relied on gathering, and fruit harvests were staggered by season. Bai Tu, however, had planted everything simultaneously, resulting in a spectacular display of abundance.
In addition to the crops, the number of prey animal cubs in the tribe had skyrocketed—especially during the period when Hei Yan and Lang Ze were competing.
During that time, they had brought back twenty to thirty cubs daily. Now, there were over a hundred large animal cubs in the tribe, not to mention an uncountable number of chickens and ducks.
To the beastmen, such a scene represented abundance. The animal cubs would continue to grow, and with over a hundred large prey animals, even without hunting, the tribe had enough food to last a long time.
With the food supply secure, the beastmen became noticeably less urgent in their work. While they still completed their assigned tasks, their sense of urgency had diminished. If something didn’t get done today, they figured it could be finished tomorrow—or the day after. After all, no matter when they finished, there would still be plenty to eat.
Even the hunting team showed signs of slacking off.
Some members approached Bai An, requesting to stay in the tribe and work instead of going out to hunt. This relaxed attitude even began spreading to a few members of the Wolf Tribe.
Neither Bai An nor Lang Ze noticed the impact of this change. Since most beastmen remained as diligent and hardworking as before, and the amount of prey brought back was still sufficient, the problem flew under their radar.
Bai Tu, who spent all day in the tribe, noticed the change most clearly and knew this couldn’t continue.
At first glance, the tribe seemed to have plenty of food—fruits and grains were nearing harvest, and there was an abundance of prey animals. But there was an old saying: “If you keep eating without replenishing, even a mountain of food will run out.”
Even if the number of prey animals doubled, without a sustainable source of new food, the supply wouldn’t last long. This was especially concerning because the cubs would soon grow up, and their appetites would only increase.
In the past, with fewer tribe members and greater pressure on everyone, there were fewer instances of slacking off. Even if one or two people slacked off, as long as it wasn’t too obvious, it wasn’t easily noticed. However, slacking off was contagious. The more people there were, the more common it became.
This kind of behavior was inevitable in any group activity, but Bai Tu planned to address it. If left unchecked, it would not only create unfairness for those who worked hard but also worsen the tribe’s overall situation.
The root of the problem lay in the current work structure.
Previously, when food was scarce, priority was given to the hunting and gathering teams, with the remaining food distributed to those doing lighter work. Because of this, everyone worked hard to prove themselves, hoping to join the hunting or gathering teams. Even if they couldn’t, doing more work meant receiving more food.
Now, with an abundant food supply, everyone could eat their fill no matter what task they were assigned. Whether they worked a lot or a little, they enjoyed the same treatment, so naturally, they weren’t as motivated as before.
Bai Tu decided to reform the current system by introducing a reward-and-penalty structure.
Beastmen who took on heavier workloads would receive more resources, while those who slacked off would receive less. In simple terms, it was a merit-based system: the more you worked, the more you earned.
To implement this, Bai Tu gathered everyone together during a time when both Lang Qi and Lang Ze were present. He invited Bai An, Mao Lin, Tu Cai, and others to discuss changes to the task allocation system, adding a new concept: individual daily task goals.
“Individual task goals?” Tu Cai was confused. Previously, tasks were assigned as group activities—everyone was told what needed to be done, and they all worked together. What was this about individual goals?
Bai Tu explained, “An individual task goal is the amount of work a person needs to complete in a day to earn full credit. For example, someone must spin 20 spools of yarn to earn 10 points. If they spin less—say, 18 spools—they would only earn 9 points. If they spin more, like 22 spools, they would earn 11 points.”
“What are points?” Tu Cai looked even more bewildered. It was yet another unfamiliar concept.
Bai An and the others also looked puzzled, while Lang Qi and Mao Lin remained silent, waiting for Bai Tu to elaborate.
“Points are essentially like salt at the market,” Bai Tu continued. “From now on, items within the tribe will be exchanged for points, just like you’d exchange salt for goods at the market. For example, we could set the cost of a meal at three points or a piece of animal hide at twenty points…”
Bai Tu patiently explained the concept and how it would work. “Every resource will be tied to points, and nothing will be taken freely. This way, everyone will be motivated to work harder. Otherwise, if everyone gets the same treatment regardless of whether they work, we’ll see more and more people slacking off. After all, if you can eat without working and get animal hides without effort, why bother contributing?”
The others listened thoughtfully. After a moment, Lang Qi glanced at Bai Tu and asked, “Are people slacking off already?” He then turned to Lang Ze with a sharp look, silently asking how this had been allowed to happen.
Lang Ze, who had been mentally calculating whether his work so far was enough to earn an animal hide—and whether he’d end up going around naked if it wasn’t—looked utterly confused. Slacking off? Who’s slacking off? We’ve been bringing back plenty of prey, haven’t we?
Bai Tu said, “So far, I’ve only noticed a few cases—it’s not serious yet.”
Lang Ze, of course, hadn’t noticed anything, given that his hunting team was filled with relentless individuals who could still bring back prey even if a third of them wandered off in the wrong direction.
Bai An asked, “If we implement this system, does that mean no one will slack off anymore?”
Bai Tu shook his head. “There will still be people who slack off, but with this system, their slacking won’t impact the group. Those who slack off will earn fewer points, meaning they’ll have less to exchange for resources. It’ll only affect them, not anyone else.”
Lang Qi considered this for a moment and then asked, “How will the points be recorded?”
Currently, the tribe recorded time by carving horizontal lines into a rock wall—one line represented one day. After ten lines, they replaced them with a vertical line. Once they reached 36 vertical lines, it signified a full year.
Using a similar method to record points was possible, but it would require a massive rock wall, given the volume of work. On top of that, deducting points for meals or item exchanges would require frequent updates. Calculating and maintaining everyone’s points would take an enormous amount of time.
Bai Tu explained, “I’ll teach everyone a system of writing. It’s similar to the lines you carve on the wall but with slight modifications. With it, you’ll be able to record larger numbers. Until everyone learns it, I’ll handle the record-keeping myself.”
Although the tribe had around 160 to 170 members, recording their points wouldn’t be too difficult since the tasks would be standardized by type.
All Bai Tu needed to do was group the records by category. As for the recording tools, he thought of using bamboo slips. Or perhaps he could experiment with making paper, which could be useful for other purposes too.
As Bai Tu considered this, deep in thought, he completely missed the silence that had fallen over the group.
That was until Lang Ze let out a howl. “Writing???”
