Chapter 64
Worried the young wolves would be starving, Bai Tu had specifically instructed the cooks to make extra food. Now, he regretted it deeply and wished he could quietly disappear, pretending he’d never said those words.
Before a hunt, the wolves usually went out in their beast forms.
After catching their prey, they would return covered in leaves.
This time, however, was different—there was no prey, and instead of leaves, they were all coated in mud. The leaves they carried were muddy as well, making them look like a group of terracotta soldiers.
Exasperated, Bai Tu pointed toward the stream and said wearily, “Wash yourselves off before coming back, and don’t go playing in the deep water.”
The lead “terracotta soldier” dumped what looked like a mud-covered object off its shoulder and let out a howl before darting off to bathe.
The rest quickly followed suit, throwing down their burdens one by one and running to the stream.
Completely covered in mud, the only part of their bodies visible were their teeth when they opened their mouths.
From any angle, they all looked identical. Apart from Lang Ze, who had been the first to run out, even their own mothers wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart.
Bai Tu: “…” If asked, he’d only say: utterly exhausted.
Tu Cai, who had come to collect food for the cubs, saw the chaotic scene and immediately offered, “Tu, why don’t you rest? I’ll call someone to clean this up.”
“No need,” Bai Tu shook his head. “Let them clean it up themselves after they’ve eaten.”
If he were feeling stricter, he might have insisted they clean up before eating, but he knew the young wolves hadn’t eaten anything since the night before.
For a well-known reason, the wolves never carried fire or knives during their hunts, and the chances of them catching and eating prey in the wild were slim.
Besides, the young wolves had grown accustomed to the tribe’s cooking and had become picky.
Some even refused to eat roasted meat that wasn’t seasoned properly. There was no way they’d eat food without salt, even if it was available.
Sighing, Bai Tu asked the cooks to prepare some extra pan-fried small fish.
Judging by the state they’d returned in, it was clear the wolves had been playing for quite a while. With all that energy burned, they’d likely be able to devour an entire cow soon.
Lang Qi took a deep breath and suggested, “Shall we head back to the cave?”
He couldn’t stand it anymore. If he stayed here waiting for the wolves to return, he’d probably end up losing his temper.
“Mm.” Bai Tu agreed.
It was better to leave and avoid the frustration. Returning to the cave to work on purifying iron for making pots seemed far less stressful. At least the iron didn’t move around or surprise him with sudden “gifts.”
Just as Bai Tu walked past the spot where the wolves had been, intending to avoid the pile of mud and leave, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Not hearing any footsteps, Lang Qi turned around and saw Bai Tu staring at the ground.
Bai Tu went to the kitchen and grabbed a tree branch.
Since coal had a high ignition point, they kept a stock of branches in the back for starting fires. Using the branch, he poked and prodded the pile of mud, and his expression of exasperation quickly turned into one of delight. “Well, this really is a surprise!”
“What kind of surprise?” Lang Qi crouched down beside him, looking at the dark, mud-covered object Bai Tu had uncovered. “Wood?”
“No, it’s a lotus seedpod,” Bai Tu said, pointing at the unrecognizable lump. “Inside are lotus seeds. You can eat them raw, roast them, or dry the mature ones and use them to make porridge.”
The seedpod was almost entirely buried in mud, and if not for its large size and distinctive shape, Bai Tu might have overlooked it entirely.
The lotus seedpod alone wouldn’t have been enough to excite Bai Tu this much. What truly thrilled him was what the seedpod represented: lotus roots!
Lotus roots had countless uses.
They could be eaten raw in salads, stir-fried, simmered in soups, or ground into powder to make lotus root starch. The sheer number of ways they could be prepared made them incredibly versatile and valuable.
After the initial excitement, Bai Tu looked at the battered and mud-covered lotus seedpod and began to worry about the state of the lotus roots. What if they’ve all been trampled to mush?
So, when Lang Ze and the young wolves returned to the dining hall—clean, wrapped in fresh leaves—they were greeted by Bai Tu and Lang Qi standing at the entrance, their faces grim and serious.
The young wolves froze. “!!!”
As the smell of food wafted over, making their stomachs growl, the pack collectively shoved Lang Ze forward to face the music.
“Tu… Brother?” Lang Ze’s voice trembled slightly.
He wasn’t as afraid of Lang Qi’s anger anymore.
After all, Lang Qi’s most frequent form of punishment was a good smack, and to the thick-skinned young wolves, it barely registered.
Lang Qi would never hit them seriously; with his real strength, a serious blow would result in a pack of dead brothers. So, Lang Ze’s fear of Lang Qi was more instinctual than rational.
Bai Tu, on the other hand, was a different story.
His punishments never involved physical discipline, and he didn’t even approve of Lang Qi hitting the wolves most of the time. But while Bai Tu’s usual smiling demeanor made him approachable, when he was angry, it was truly terrifying.
Bai Tu’s punishments were always “civilized,” such as deducting points—and he even had a multiplier system.
The more mistakes someone made, the more points were deducted.
On top of that, the punishment results were publicly displayed at the base of the mountain for all the beastmen to see.
Not everyone knew each wolf’s name, but every beastman had a unique identification number.
Lang Ze’s number was particularly easy to recognize. If his punishment were made public, the entire tribe would know about it.
The humiliation of the Rabbit Tribe and the Wolf Clan knowing wasn’t the worst part, though.
What Lang Ze dreaded most was Hei Yan visiting and using it as an excuse to mock him.
Lang Ze could never let himself look worse than Hei Yan. If he had to lose points, he’d rather it happen in winter after the Snow Rabbit and Black Hawk Tribes’ cooperation ended. That way, Hei Yan wouldn’t have a chance to laugh at him.
Unaware of Lang Ze’s chaotic inner monologue, Bai Tu glanced over the group of wolves.
Though they were wearing leaves, they were wrapped up neatly enough.
Satisfied that they were presentable, he finally allowed them to enter and eat. The young wolves had gone a full day and night without eating and were trembling from hunger—it was better to let them eat first and deal with the rest later.
Lang Ze, expecting harsh punishment, couldn’t believe it.
“That’s it? We’re off the hook?” He blinked in disbelief before quickly running to eat, urged on by the other wolves. Whatever Bai Tu’s reasoning, Lang Ze wasn’t going to risk losing the chance to fill his stomach. He’d been starving for an entire day!
They hadn’t felt hungry at all while playing, but now that they’d bathed, their stomachs were loudly protesting.
Their ribs felt like they were pressing against their spines, especially after smelling the food. Their sensitive noses told them that, in addition to stewed and roasted meat, there was also pan-fried fish on the menu today.
Since beastmen had large appetites, it took several days of fishing to gather enough for a single meal.
Pan-fried fish was a rare treat, usually only served every ten days or so.
The aroma grew stronger by the moment, and if Lang Qi and Bai Tu hadn’t been present, the wolves would’ve already swarmed the cook to beg for fish.
Even though everyone would eventually get their share, the first fish eaten before the meal was officially served was always the most delicious.
As Lang Ze ate, he occasionally sneaked glances at Bai Tu and Lang Qi, trying to figure out why they hadn’t scolded him yet. Were they not angry? But if they weren’t, why were they still lingering nearby instead of leaving? Were they angry? But if they were, why had they allowed everyone to eat? Lang Ze couldn’t make sense of it.
He kept nervously glancing over while stuffing himself as fast as he could.
However, as he ate, something felt off. He suddenly looked down at his plate, then let out a loud howl: “Where’s my fish?!”
The cook, however, had followed Bai Tu’s strict instructions to ensure fairness during food distribution.
Each beastman was allotted three fish: one large, one medium, and one small.
This system guaranteed that everyone received an equal share, avoiding conflicts over portion sizes. Even if no one complained, unfair distribution wouldn’t sit right with Bai Tu.
The wolves had only eaten this one meal today, so their portions were larger than usual.
Lang Ze’s bowl had four fish: two large and two small. He had already eaten the two large ones.
Unlike other cooking methods, pan-fried fish was best when slightly smaller than the size of a hand—they were crispier and more flavorful.
Larger fish weren’t as crunchy, and smaller ones didn’t have enough meat and were prone to overcooking. Lang Ze had saved the tastiest pieces for last, but now his bowl was empty!
For Lang Ze, who valued food above all else, this was a disaster of epic proportions.
Sitting next to Lang Ze, Lang Zuo grinned mischievously and stuffed a fish into his own mouth.
Lang Ze immediately made a move, reaching with his chopsticks toward Lang Zuo’s bowl, but Lang Zuo, who had been prepared, blocked him.
“Boss, just eat some meat. This roast meat is delicious,” Lang Zuo said, shoving a plate of braised meat toward Lang Ze.
“I don’t want it!” Lang Ze snapped.
Braised meat was available every day, and even if it wasn’t, he could exchange points for it. But pan-fried fish was a different story. It required just the right size—too big, and it wouldn’t cook through properly; too small, and it lacked meat and was easily overcooked.
Seeing his last two small fish stolen, especially by Lang Zuo, was intolerable.
Lang Ze acted swiftly, but when his attempt to reclaim the fish failed, he withdrew his chopsticks and shifted his gaze to the other side of the table. Suddenly, he shouted, “A new dish is coming!”
Every single wolf at the table, without exception, turned their heads to see what the new dish might be—only to see nothing.
Meanwhile, Lang Ze took advantage of the distraction to snatch every last small fish from Lang Zuo’s and Lang You’s bowls, quickly taking a bite out of each one before anyone could stop him.
When Lang Zuo and Lang You turned back, all they saw were their now-empty bowls. They exchanged a glance before glaring at Lang Ze. Not even caring that the fish had already been bitten, they lunged in unison, chopsticks darting to grab the pieces back. For them, victory was only assured when the fish was in their own mouths.
From a short distance away, Bai Tu observed the scene in silence, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he turned to Lang Qi and asked, “When did mealtime turn into this kind of battle?”
Lately, Bai Tu had been busy with numerous tasks.
Sometimes, he was at the weaving point overseeing fabric production; other times, he was monitoring the iron ore refining.
After finishing at one location, he would often rush to the new smelting site to check for issues.
Even though they were trying to replicate tools exactly as before, there was always the chance something wouldn’t work properly—especially with the large-scale iron furnace they were now building. Every other day, it seemed like a new problem would arise.
With so much to handle, eating on time had become almost impossible.
Due to the heat, the dining hall never prepared too much food, but honestly, no matter how much was made, the beastmen always managed to finish it. Leftovers simply didn’t exist in this tribe.
By the time Bai Tu finished his work and returned, the dining hall was always spotless and empty.
Not wanting to risk upsetting his stomach by skipping meals, Bai Tu had arranged for the cooks to save a portion for him each day. Whether he picked it up himself or had someone deliver it, at least he’d have something to eat.
Unlike most beastmen, Bai Tu didn’t share their mealtime schedule, so he hadn’t noticed the changes in the Wolf Clan’s eating habits.
It used to be that they only fought over food in the pot—now they were even fighting over the food in each other’s bowls!
Lang Qi glanced at the chaotic scene of the wolves scrambling and snatching food from each other.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he had to acknowledge the truth: these were his people.
After a rare pause, he answered Bai Tu’s question, “It’s always been like this.” This was the true nature of Lang Ze’s team when eating. They only behaved a little better while traveling.
Bai Tu: “…”
He didn’t understand, but he decided to respect their habits. Perhaps food really did taste better from someone else’s bowl.
Once the wolves had fought over and devoured every last scrap of food, Bai Tu turned his attention to the muddy lotus seedpods they had brought back.
The wolves, who had been relaxed after finishing their meal, immediately tensed up again. Here it comes, here it comes.
Lang Ze hesitated for a moment before answering Bai Tu’s question. “We found them in two large ponds on the eastern side of the territory.”
Initially, they hadn’t caught any prey and didn’t want to return to the tribe empty-handed, so they decided to play for a while before heading back. But the more they played, the more engrossed they became.
If not for Lang Yang’s call, they might not have remembered to return home until after dark.
This wasn’t a new habit.
They’d been doing things like this since they were little.
The Wolf Clan leaned more toward a free-range upbringing, which was why the young wolves had been stung by bees so many times.
There had been a few periods when adult beastmen tried to keep a stricter watch over them, but it didn’t last long.
The young wolves hated being monitored, and the adults watching them were left utterly exhausted. It only proved that the energy levels of beastmen—and particularly wolf cubs—were vastly different.
The ponds had been discovered two years ago.
When the young wolves were smaller, they’d been more cautious about their safety.
They loved to play but wouldn’t recklessly jump into the water. Now that they’d grown into their beast forms, their cautious days were long gone.
The time when a single basin of water was enough to entertain them for half a day was a distant memory.
Missing the joy of splashing around, the young wolves had rediscovered the ponds. However, they didn’t often play there, as the games usually lasted one or two days and caused them to miss meals—earning them a round of scolding and punishment when they returned.
Lately, they’d been more eager for breakfast, so they typically returned to the Snow Rabbit Tribe right after hunting. If they were lucky, they could even make requests for specific dishes. After resting a bit, they could wake up and enjoy a meal. Life had been too good, and the wolves had stopped going to the ponds to play.
But last night, when they had gone far to hunt and passed by the ponds on their way back, the temptation was too much to resist.
One by one, the wolves jumped in, splashing and wrestling in the water. They didn’t stop until Lang Yang reminded them to head home.
The ponds weren’t small, but with more than thirty beastmen playing, fighting, and splashing, the water quickly became a muddy mess.
Since it wasn’t the rainy season, the ponds didn’t have as much water as usual, and the result was that one pond had turned into a mud pit, while the other wasn’t much better. It would take several days for the water to clear. With no way to wash off properly, the young wolves had no choice but to return to the tribe caked in mud.
As for the lotus seed pods they brought back—they were purely meant as a prank.
The wolves had discovered that the seed pods were extremely bitter and found it amusing to trick others into eating them.
Lang Ze had even planned to fool Hei Yan into eating one. Since they’d trampled plenty of seedpods while playing, they figured they might as well grab a bunch to carry back instead of returning empty-handed.
The cost of their prank, however, was wearing the mud from the seedpods all over their bodies.
What little fur they had showing was coated in an even layer of muck. Thankfully, they hadn’t run into any other beastmen on their way back. Otherwise, they might have been mistaken for strangers and captured on the spot.
After hearing the full story, Bai Tu felt a mix of exasperation and amusement.
On the one hand, the young wolves’ antics left him speechless; on the other, he couldn’t help but laugh, remembering that both the honey and the lotus seed pods had been discovered by Lang Ze’s team. He asked about the distance to the ponds.
“Not far,” Lang Ze replied eagerly.
Hearing that Bai Tu wasn’t planning to punish them but was instead asking about the location, he immediately perked up. Does this mean we can keep playing there in the future?
“Take me there,” Bai Tu said, deciding to inspect the ponds himself.
He wanted to dig up some lotus roots and see if the ponds were suitable for planting more lotus next year.
He also considered testing whether the ponds could be used to raise fish. While the water pool inside the cave had been expanded several times and was now much larger, it still wasn’t enough.
Many of the fish they caught were better suited for temporary farming rather than immediate consumption, but one pool wasn’t sufficient. According to the wolves, the ponds already had some fish, though not many.
Lang Ze had no objections to taking Bai Tu to the ponds. However, their quick return the previous night was thanks to traveling in their beast forms.
If Bai Tu went with them now, they wouldn’t reach the ponds until after dark. Everyone in the tribe knew that Bai Tu didn’t like transforming into his beast form—just as he didn’t acknowledge being a shaman or healer.
Lang Ze mulled it over for a moment before suddenly suggesting, “Tu, I’ll transform and carry you on my back!”
He silently praised himself for his quick thinking—this way, Bai Tu wouldn’t need to transform, and they could still reach the ponds quickly.
“No need,” Bai Tu said, shaking his head.
Many beastmen assumed Bai Tu and Lang Ze were around the same age, but Bai Tu felt he was probably older. Letting Lang Ze carry him felt like taking advantage of a child, so he refused. “You all should rest for now. We’ll go tomorrow.”
Inspecting the ponds and digging up lotus roots wasn’t urgent enough to rush there overnight.
The young wolves had already gone a full day and night without rest. If they went another day without sleeping and started digging for lotus roots, even the strongest beastmen wouldn’t last long.
“Alright…” Lang Ze said, a bit disappointed.
He had been looking forward to showing off his speed to Bai Tu. But tomorrow would work too. He secretly plotted to convince Bai Tu to let him carry him then. Maybe if I work hard enough, Bai Tu will forget about all the mud we brought back tonight.
Lang Ze had it all planned out. But when he woke up early the next morning, ready to redeem himself, he heard his brother’s voice. “I’ll carry you.”
