Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – CH96

Chapter 96

When Bai Tu first arrived back at the tribe, he had already instructed Tu Mu and the others to prepare food and hot water for the cubs. 

No matter how carefully they had planned meals for the journey, nothing could compare to the food available in the tribe. 

Since the cubs were going to be bathed first, heating water was the priority. Fortunately, given the cold weather, the tribe always had a steady supply of hot water, so the first batch of bathwater was ready in no time.

The larger the pottery, the harder it was to successfully fire during production, so the adults still used wooden tubs for bathing. However, the cubs had more options. 

Some of them could fit into the basins that adult beastmen normally used for washing their hands, while the larger bathing barrels were practically like swimming pools for the smaller ones.

At the foot of the mountain, there was a designated bathing room, originally built to prevent beastmen from carelessly bathing out in the open. 

To make it usable during winter, a fireplace had been installed on one side. It remained unused in the summer, but once lit in winter, it ensured that anyone bathing inside wouldn’t catch a cold.

Now, everything was ready—just waiting for the cubs to be brought over.

After several days of being fed and cared for, the cubs had become familiar with the beastmen looking after them. Bai Tu didn’t call over any other beastmen and instead let the same caretakers help with their baths.

Carrying the little black bear cub, Bai Tu entered the room, where several people were already busy at work. While the familiar caretakers handled the actual bathing, others assisted by preparing the bathwater. Bai Tu walked over to an empty wooden tub and gently placed the naked black bear cub inside.

Due to the cold weather, the water was slightly warmer than usual. The moment the bear cub touched the warm water, he clung tightly to Bai Tu’s arm.

“Be good. Once you’re done, I’ll get you something tasty.” Bai Tu ruffled the bear cub’s head and swirled the water with his hand.

Seeing him play with the water, the bear cub became less fearful and cautiously dipped one paw in.

“Good boy.” Bai Tu praised him. 

Young cubs who hadn’t yet taken human form usually couldn’t understand adult speech, but they could sense meaning from the tone.

Encouraged by the praise, the cub grew bolder. He tightened his front paws around Bai Tu and placed both of his hind paws into the water, swishing them around playfully.

Seizing the opportunity, Bai Tu gently lowered the cub fully into the tub. The little bear struggled slightly as his entire body became submerged.

“Almost done,” Bai Tu reassured him, picking up a nearby cleaning tool.

The tribe’s brushes were made from wild boar bristles and bamboo strips, paired with a cleansing paste Bai Tu had created using soapnut, mugwort, and other herbs. 

This combination worked exceptionally well, especially in warm water. The brushes used for the cubs were softer than the ones for adults, made from finer, gentler bristles that felt soothing on their fur.

As expected, the little black bear enjoyed the treatment. Once Bai Tu had finished brushing his back, the cub even flipped over on his own, exposing his belly. Bai Tu carefully combed through his fur before rubbing in the cleansing paste evenly.

When beastmen were in human form, warm water alone was enough to wash away dirt. However, for cubs who had been covered in layers of grease and grime, warm water alone wasn’t enough. 

The first brushing was mainly to comfort the cubs, allowing them to gradually adjust to the water temperature. Once their fur was fully soaked, the real cleaning could begin.

Though Bai Tu scrubbed and massaged gently, the process was thorough. The little cub thoroughly enjoyed it.

Bai Tu, however, suddenly froze.

The foam in the water had turned black, and beneath it, the cub’s fur was noticeably lighter.

Wu Lai had never cared for the cubs properly, and many of them were covered in a thick layer of filth, making it impossible to see their true fur color. 

This little bear had been entirely black when they first found him, and Bai Tu had assumed he was a black bear. But now, as the grime washed away, it was clear that his fur was not supposed to be this dark.

A white bear? Or perhaps a light brown one? Though, curiously, his paws still seemed to be black.

Puzzled, Bai Tu applied more of the cleansing paste and continued scrubbing. He kept going until all the foam being rinsed away was completely black, then placed the cub back into the tub for a final rinse.

As the clean water washed away the last traces of oil, dust, and grime, the black bear cub disappeared—replaced by a black-and-white bear cub.

Bai Tu turned him over, examining him from different angles.

There was no doubt about it—this was a giant panda cub.

Bai Tu rubbed the little cub’s exposed belly. Now that it was clean, its fur was silky smooth. He quickly rinsed off any remaining suds, wrapped it in a towel, and dried it off by the fireplace.

Calling it “drying” might be an exaggeration—it was simply that this area was warmer, allowing the fur to dry faster.

Bai Tu placed a piece of animal hide beside the little panda and let it sit down. He gently squeezed its tiny paws, then its hind legs.

This cub had been extremely attached to Bai Tu since their journey, always staying close to him. Now, in this unfamiliar environment, it clung to his arm even tighter, refusing to let go.

Taking advantage of the moment, Bai Tu rubbed it a few more times. Though there were other fluffy bear cubs around, this black-and-white one was undeniably different.

The cub let out a soft whimper, still gripping Bai Tu’s arm.

Bai Tu waited until its fur was completely dry, then wrapped it snugly in another animal hide and carried it off to eat.

The bathhouse had been built in two sections, separated for males and females, with each section divided into three areas: the waiting area, the dressing area, and the bathing area.

The bathing and dressing areas were warmer, and the place where Bai Tu had just dried the cub’s fur was the dressing area. The waiting area outside was cooler, but since it was indoors, it was still better than being outside in the freezing cold.

At the moment, there were more than a dozen clean bamboo baskets placed nearby, ready to carry the freshly bathed cubs to their meal.

Bai Tu rubbed the cub in his arms. “I’ll take this one over myself.” It was also a good chance to check on the food preparations.

Knowing how cold winter could get—especially when heavy snow covered the ground, making it impossible to walk—Bai Tu had planned ahead when building these structures at the base of the mountain. 

He had designed a network of cement-paved paths connecting key locations, with wooden coverings overhead to shield them from the snow. Though constructing them had been a hassle at the time, the benefits were now clear. Some areas had already begun to freeze due to the overnight rain, but the main path remained completely clear and dry.

Bai Tu carried the cub straight to the dining hall.

Tu Mu had just finished preparing the cubs’ meals, setting out over a dozen portions. The food was ready for them to eat as soon as they arrived, while the remaining portions stayed warm over low heat to ensure that even the last cub to finish bathing would get a hot meal.

“Do we still have goat’s milk and cow’s milk?” Bai Tu asked. 

He vaguely remembered that panda cubs loved drinking milk. The tribe had always kept a steady supply of both for the young ones, and with more livestock being raised now, there was never a shortage.

“We do. I’ll get some right away,” Tu Mu responded swiftly, hurrying to fetch a bowl of freshly warmed cow’s milk. 

As he set it in front of Bai Tu, he noticed the unfamiliar cub in his arms. Its size was nowhere near that of the two wolf cubs, and he was momentarily stunned.

“Didn’t you bring the little wolves?” he asked.

“Qi is taking care of them,” Bai Tu explained.

The dining hall was noticeably warmer, so Bai Tu unwrapped the outermost layer of animal hide from the cub. He picked up the bowl of milk, tested the temperature, and then used a spoon to carefully feed it.

Although they had prepared plenty of food along the journey, this was definitely the first time the panda cub had tasted milk. The moment it took its first sip, it let out an excited whimper.

Seeing Bai Tu pull the spoon away, the cub panicked, thinking it was being taken away. Anxiously, it reached out with its tiny paws, trying to grab it back.

“Huh?”

At first, Tu Mu hadn’t paid much attention to the cub in Bai Tu’s arms since it wasn’t one of the little wolf cubs. Hearing that Lang Qi was looking after them, he was relieved. But when he lowered his head and got a proper look at the cub in Bai Tu’s arms, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Isn’t this a cub from the Hua Xiong Tribe?”

“You recognize it?” Bai Tu was intrigued. 

Tu Mu was a bit younger than Bai An, and Bai Tu had never heard anyone mention a giant panda tribe before. 

When he saw this cub, he had simply assumed it belonged to one of the many bear tribes. But from what Tu Mu was saying, the pandas had their own distinct tribe. Did that mean there were more of them out there?

The thought of a whole group of panda cubs running around in front of him made Bai Tu instantly excited.

A whole bunch of rolling pandas… That was practically a dream job. In the modern world, only professional panda caretakers got to experience something like this.

“Yes, look at these eye markings.” Tu Mu pointed to the black patches around the cub’s eyes. “Only beastmen from the Hua Xiong Tribe have these. Their entire tribe looks like this—black ears, black arms, white belly.” He examined the cub a bit more closely before adding, “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen one this white before.”

Bai Tu: “…”

Bai Tu: “It’s white because I just washed it.” He had scrubbed it several times with soapnut.

“That makes sense,” Tu Mu nodded. 

The cubs in their tribe always looked a little cleaner after a bath. “But the Hua Xiong Tribe moved away a long time ago. They won’t be easy to find.”

They all knew that these cubs had been taken by the Red Eagle Tribe, and that Bai Tu planned to return them to their original tribes. However, the Hua Xiong Tribe had left years ago, making it much harder to locate them.

“Why did they leave?” Bai Tu asked while feeding the panda cub milk. 

He found it odd—most tribes were reluctant to abandon their lands, and the pandas weren’t weak in combat. What would make them relocate?

“Their cubs kept dying. Some years, only one survived, and there was even a year when none made it. Later, people started saying that their land was no longer blessed by the Beast God…”

Because of that belief, their old territory remained unclaimed to this day. No other tribe dared to move in, fearing that if they did, they would stop having cubs as well.

Bai Tu frowned. No wonder those kids had been so scared when Hong Ku said they wouldn’t be able to raise the cubs—it turned out there really was a history behind such fears.

He looked down at the little panda cub enthusiastically gulping down milk. It didn’t seem like the type that wouldn’t survive to adulthood. For beastmen cubs, a strong appetite already put them ahead of many others.

“How many people were left in the Hua Xiong Tribe when they moved?” Bai Tu asked. 

If there were a lot of them, they might have settled in an unclaimed territory. But if their numbers were too low, they likely merged with another tribe, making them even harder to track.

“Probably a little over a hundred?” Tu Mu guessed. “They used to have two or three hundred.”

For some unknown reason, fewer and fewer of their cubs had survived each year.

A hundred or so… Bai Tu nodded. That wasn’t a large number. Whether they had found new land or merged into another tribe, tracking them down would be difficult.

“We’ll search for them slowly.”

Beastmen had a much lower birth rate than real animals, and pandas were already infamous for their low reproduction rate. 

The birth of a single panda cub was a rare event for their tribe—this one had likely been long-awaited, only to end up stolen by the Red Eagle Tribe and subjected to all that mistreatment.

Bai Tu held the now-full panda cub and gently patted it to soothe it before taking it back to the waiting area of the bathhouse. Then, he went to help bathe the next cub.

With nearly two hundred cubs to clean, even with help, the beastmen in charge of caring for them were utterly exhausted. It wasn’t until late at night that they finally finished.

Bai Tu personally bathed nine cubs, and by the time he was done with the last one, both of his hands were wrinkled from being in the water for so long.

After settling the cubs into a cave that had been cleared out for them, he returned to his own cave to rest.

But the moment he reached the entrance, he saw Lang Qi standing there quietly, holding the two little wolf cubs in his arms.

“You eaten yet?” Bai Tu asked, lifting his hands to take the cubs.

But Lang Qi dodged him.

“Bath.” His tone was completely flat.

Bai Tu: “???”

Lang Qi frowned. “You smell like other cubs. They don’t like it.”

As if echoing Lang Qi’s words, the two wolf cubs tentatively tried to jump onto Bai Tu. However, the moment they sniffed the unfamiliar scent on him, they hesitated.

Bai Tu: “……”

The uncle and nephews all had identical expressions, as if he had done something terribly wrong.

Feeling helpless, Bai Tu sighed and made his way to the bathhouse to wash up.

Lang Qi had already prepared hot water and filled the entire pool. Bai Tu could step in and bathe immediately. Since he was already exhausted, he didn’t hesitate—shedding his animal hide, he sank into the warm water.

The hot bath was incredibly relaxing. From the time they had arrived at the marketplace until now, he had barely had a moment to rest. 

As the heat soothed his tired muscles, he let out a yawn. 

Initially, he had only planned to soak for a short while, but the longer he stayed, the sleepier he became. Eventually, lulled by the warmth and comfort, his eyes slowly closed.

Once Bai Tu had fallen asleep, Lang Qi lifted the curtain and stepped inside. He tested the water temperature, then added half a bucket of hot water.

Just as Bai Tu had been on the verge of waking up from the cooling water, the added warmth made him drift even deeper into sleep.

Lang Qi leaned in and sniffed Bai Tu’s hands. Then, taking the soapnut specifically meant for bathing, he carefully washed Bai Tu’s entire body. He even scrubbed his hands twice, all the while moving with utmost care so as not to wake him.

After finishing, Lang Qi lifted Bai Tu out of the water, rinsed off the remaining soap suds with warm water, and wrapped him in a large towel. 

Carrying him to the inner room, he removed the towel and placed him onto the heated kang bed, which was covered with freshly laid, warm blankets.

Emerging from the bathhouse, Bai Tu never even felt the cold before being enveloped in another warm room. In his sleep, he rubbed against the soft animal hide beneath him. Today, the bedding felt even fluffier than usual. Sinking deeper into comfort, he quickly fell into a peaceful slumber.

Watching this, Lang Qi’s gaze darkened. He reached out and pulled the blanket up higher, wrapping Bai Tu more snugly. Then, he turned back to the bathhouse, soaking Bai Tu’s used clothes in water and beginning to wash them.

Once he had cleaned everything and ensured that there was no lingering scent in the cave except for his own and the two wolf cubs’, Lang Qi finally felt at ease. Skillfully tucking the cubs’ ears under the blankets, he returned to the inner room.

Bai Tu remained in the same sleeping position, lying quietly under the slightly oversized blanket. 

The kang bed was burning hot, and with all the layers of bedding covering him, he started feeling a little too warm. Unable to bear it, he instinctively stretched one arm out from under the covers, letting it cool in the open air.

Much better.

Satisfied, he shifted slightly, adjusting to a more comfortable position.

Lang Qi’s eyes darkened further. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss onto Bai Tu’s exposed arm.

In his dreams, Bai Tu felt something—like a mosquito bite.

Confused, he wondered why there would be mosquitoes in such cold weather. Half-asleep, he raised his hand to swat it away.

However, before he could bring his arm down, Lang Qi caught his wrist.

Holding Bai Tu’s hand against his lips, Lang Qi gently bit down.

The sensation was all too familiar. Bai Tu immediately jolted awake—only to see Lang Qi right in front of him.

He instinctively tried to retract his arm. “I’m too tired today.”

Lang Qi didn’t let go. Instead, he murmured reassuringly against his skin, “You don’t have to do anything.”

Bai Tu: “???”

Lang Qi rarely failed to get what he wanted. Even though Bai Tu had long understood this about him, he still couldn’t help but kick him.

Lang Qi, unfazed, caught the restless leg and pressed it back down. Then, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss near Bai Tu’s lips.

“Almost done.”

Bai Tu kicked him again.

The same words were repeated three times.

What a blatant lie.

Bai Tu stared up at the cave ceiling, feeling like a fish flopping helplessly on the shore. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t escape his inevitable fate.

Noticing that Bai Tu’s attention was drifting away from him, Lang Qi discontentedly nipped at his chin.

Bai Tu snapped back to reality and pinched him. “Are you part dog or something?”

Marks on the neck could at least be hidden under clothes, but how was he supposed to cover up this spot?

“Mm.” Seeing Bai Tu’s focus return to him, Lang Qi was satisfied. He didn’t care about the teasing remark—in fact, he had no idea what a “dog” was, as Bai Tu sometimes called him. But as long as Bai Tu was looking at him, that was all that mattered.

Outside the cave, the moon had moved from east to west. Inside, the intermittent noises finally came to an end.

In the inner chamber, a tiny rabbit the size of a fist was curled up in the embrace of a giant wolf. Lang Qi carefully wrapped his arms around him, finally drifting off to sleep in contentment.

*

Bai Tu opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of a vast grassland. The knee-high pasture stretched endlessly in all directions, with not a single tree in sight.

This place would be great for livestock.

That was Bai Tu’s first conclusion after observing the surroundings.

But oddly, there wasn’t a single sheep or cow to be seen—just himself, all alone. Frowning, Bai Tu walked forward for a while, but the land remained eerily empty.

Just as he was debating whether to call out, a few faint sounds came from not far away.

They didn’t sound human—in fact, they sounded remarkably like the cries of young cubs. Bai Tu instinctively moved toward the noise.

A few steps ahead, a small black wolf cub was glancing anxiously behind him, occasionally pacing forward a couple of steps before stopping again. Behind him, a slightly smaller gray wolf cub was doing the same, though he seemed more impatient, letting out sharp, urgent cries from time to time.

It was the sound Bai Tu had just heard.

Though they were also a black-and-gray pair, Bai Tu was certain—these weren’t his two little wolves.

Following their line of sight, Bai Tu turned his head—and his breath caught in his throat.

A pure white wolf cub, without a single speck of other color, was stumbling forward.

It was much smaller than the other two. 

The knee-high grass that barely reached Bai Tu’s legs must have seemed like towering hills to this tiny cub. But despite that, it didn’t hesitate, its short legs determinedly propelling it toward the other two cubs.

Yet, the cub was so small that every few steps left it panting heavily. It had to stop to rest before mustering the energy to continue forward.

Bai Tu felt an anxious tug in his chest, but there were no adult wolves in sight.

Despite having taken care of many cubs, he knew that if a stranger approached them, their parents would likely reject them—or worse, abandon them altogether. That was why he had always been careful, only touching young cubs in the tribe with permission. The slightly older ones could be recognized by their mothers, making it less risky.

But here… there wasn’t a single adult wolf in sight.

The little white cub was clearly exhausted. Bai Tu’s heart ached for it, and he instinctively opened his mouth to call for someone—but no sound came out.

Frowning, he tried to walk forward and pick up the smallest cub.

But he couldn’t move.

Moments ago, he had been walking freely—had that been an illusion?

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

All he could do was watch the three little wolf cubs—especially the tiny white one, struggling behind the other two.

The gray cub, growing impatient, barked twice at the white cub. It sounded both like an urge to hurry up and something else Bai Tu couldn’t quite understand.

The white cub, however, seemed to comprehend. It scrambled forward even more desperately, only to trip over a blade of grass in its haste.

The gray cub yelped again, this time tinged with distress.

After a moment, the white cub got back up, wobbling slightly before continuing forward.

Perhaps it had learned its lesson from the fall, or maybe the gray cub’s tone had carried another message, but this time, the little white cub didn’t rush as much. Its steps were slower but more stable.

The black cub watched it in complete silence, but despite saying nothing, it exuded a calm and steady presence.

Bai Tu’s gaze lingered on the black cub for a moment, and an absurd thought crossed his mind—

Was Lang Qi like this when he was little?

The white cub steadily closed the distance between itself and the gray cub.

Finally, it reached its side.

The previously impatient gray cub immediately lowered his head and rubbed against the white cub affectionately. Then, side by side, the two continued forward.

As they reached the black cub, the three of them nuzzled each other before—suddenly—turning toward Bai Tu as if they had just noticed him.

Then, they ran straight for him.

Bai Tu instinctively squatted down—and to his surprise, this time, he could move.

He stayed in place, waiting for the three cubs to approach.

The black cub, the fastest, reached him first. It circled around his feet excitedly, tail wagging.

Seeing such a tiny cub running around him like that, Bai Tu could no longer hold back. He reached out and scooped it up.

If the parents come looking, I’ll explain.

Besides, leaving such young cubs alone in this vast, empty land was nothing short of irresponsible parenting.

Just as Bai Tu lifted the black cub into his arms, the gray one arrived, followed closely by the white one, trailing just a step behind.

Holding one is holding, holding three is the same.

Since he was already holding one, Bai Tu figured he might as well hold them all. He scooped up the gray wolf cub at his feet, settling it in his arms before reaching out to welcome the little white cub.

Now that he was closer, he could see the difference more clearly. The white cub was even smaller than the gray one. Running such a long distance at that size… Bai Tu’s heart ached at the thought. He gently kissed the tiny cub on its head.

The white wolf cub, which had its eyes closed, slowly blinked them open—then promptly licked Bai Tu’s face.

Seeing this, the gray cub immediately copied the action and gave Bai Tu a quick lick as well.

The black cub saw it too but remained still. Bai Tu glanced down at him, only for the little black wolf to quickly turn its head away, ears twitching slightly.

The stubborn shyness was too cute. Unable to resist, Bai Tu leaned down and planted a kiss on its ear.

Even though its fur was completely black, Bai Tu could still sense its embarrassment. It clearly wasn’t used to such affection—so much so that it didn’t even dare to look at him—but it also didn’t struggle in the slightest.

The white cub let out a small whimper. Bai Tu raised a finger and carefully stroked its fur. This litter was even younger than the two cubs he had raised before. He had to be extra gentle, afraid of hurting them.

The cub clearly enjoyed the touch, its little eyes narrowing in contentment.

Not wanting to be left out, the gray cub grabbed onto Bai Tu’s other finger, urging him to pet it as well.

Bai Tu chuckled. Looking around, he saw the grass beneath him was thick and soft. Without hesitation, he lay down, placing the three cubs in a row on his stomach, rubbing each of their heads one by one.

The cubs were delighted. They closed their eyes in bliss.

A faint breeze drifted through the open plains. Relaxed, Bai Tu closed his eyes and, before he knew it, drifted into sleep.

*

Suddenly, Bai Tu felt something slip from his grasp.

He woke with a start.

The soft grass beneath him had disappeared, replaced by the familiar texture of a blanket. Judging by the height of the pillow, he had reverted to his rabbit form.

Still half-dreaming, Bai Tu instinctively looked around. But aside from the giant wolf staring at him, there were no new cubs in sight.

Even though he knew it had only been a dream, disappointment welled up inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will himself back into that dream—but of course, that was impossible.

The winter sun rose late, and the bright light filtering into the cave told Bai Tu it was already close to noon. He had always been a good sleeper, and since he had passed out from sheer exhaustion the night before, his body had fully recovered. Going back to sleep now was unlikely.

Reluctantly, he lay on the blanket, recalling the three adorable wolf cubs from his dream. Finally, with some hesitation, he opened his eyes, stretched out a paw, and patted Lang Qi’s much larger paw—reminding him that it was time to wake up.

If Bai Tu was reluctant to leave his dream, then Lang Qi was just as unwilling to let go of Bai Tu.

Knowing that once Bai Tu got up, he’d be off running around the tribe, Lang Qi pretended not to notice the little rabbit’s attempts to wake him. Instead, he carefully wrapped his front paws around Bai Tu and pulled him onto his stomach.

Bai Tu: “……”

If he shifted into human form in this position, it would be… very awkward. Without hesitation, he wriggled toward the edge of Lang Qi’s massive wolf body.

Seeing Lang Qi in his human form was already intimidating enough. When he was in his beast form, he was practically a mountain.

Bai Tu reached the edge and was just about to hop down—when the giant wolf beneath him abruptly shifted into his human form.

Lang Qi, now human, caught Bai Tu before he could land and held him in his arms.

Bai Tu sighed, too tired to call him out on his little schemes. Without a word, he transformed into his human form as well—only to be immediately pulled into Lang Qi’s embrace.

“Time to get to work.” Bai Tu patted Lang Qi’s shoulder. Given the early hour, there weren’t many places he could touch safely.

“I don’t want to go.” Lang Qi tightened his hold. “Let them handle it.”

“There are too many people. The chiefs won’t be able to manage everything alone. Besides, Ze is coming over today—there are things to settle with the Wolf Tribe.”

Lang Ze had rushed back to the Wolf Tribe yesterday at noon. Originally, he should have returned when they passed through their territory, but because of the delay in transporting the Red Eagle Tribe captives, he had taken a detour.

Now, with the original members of the two tribes, the addition of the Lion Tribe, and the influx of eight hundred captives from the Red Eagle Tribe—not to mention all the rescued cubs—the population had doubled overnight.

Even though Lang Ze and Bai An had already spent some time organizing things, the sheer number of people was overwhelming.

Assigning work wasn’t as simple as giving out tasks. Many jobs were interconnected.

For instance, the construction team, the cement team, and the brick-firing team all depended on each other.

If the construction team received more manpower, then the other two teams would also need additional workers. Otherwise, they’d end up in a situation where the construction team had nothing to do while the cement and brick teams were overworked.

At the same time, the teams responsible for digging limestone and clay—the raw materials for cement and bricks—also needed to be adjusted accordingly.

The same logic applied to other work teams, such as the blacksmith team, iron smelting team, and coal mining team. Adjusting one job meant considering all related teams—it was a chain reaction where a single change affected everything.

Some critical tasks couldn’t be assigned to the Red Eagle Tribe captives, which made planning even more complicated. If they didn’t organize things quickly, the sight of those captives sitting around and eating for free would definitely cause dissatisfaction among the others. With so much work to be done, they couldn’t afford to waste even a single day.

Lang Qi, having no past memories, felt no attachment to either of the two tribes. 

As long as Bai Tu stayed by his side, that was all he cared about. However, he knew that the beastmen and cubs in the tribe held a special place in Bai Tu’s heart. So even if he was reluctant, he still let go of him.

But letting go didn’t mean allowing Bai Tu to go around touching other cubs like he had yesterday.

After getting up, Lang Qi picked up the two little wolf cubs from the bed and tucked them into his arms before following Bai Tu outside.

Bai Tu had long gotten used to Lang Qi insisting on tagging along. He glanced up at the sky and asked, “What do you want to eat?”

The dining hall should still have food left. 

One good thing about winter was that food could be stored for much longer. 

Unlike in summer, meals weren’t discarded after a certain time. Because the cold made everyone eat more, the kitchen always prepared extra food. Even if it wasn’t finished immediately, it wouldn’t spoil after sitting out for a while.

Since it wasn’t a mealtime, there weren’t many people in the dining hall. 

A few scattered beastmen sat at tables near the fireplace, eating their meals. 

Most of them were from the group that had returned from the marketplace. The long journey and freezing temperatures had drained everyone’s energy, and now that they had rested, their hunger returned quickly.

Bai Tu glanced at Lang Qi.

The others who had returned from the salt trade all looked visibly tired. Why was Lang Qi still so full of energy?

Lang Qi looked at him but didn’t answer.

Since he wasn’t picky, Bai Tu took that as a silent agreement. He stretched his lower back before heading to the food counters. In the end, he ordered two portions of roasted meat, two portions of braised meat, two roasted corncobs, and two bowls of porridge.

After bringing the food to an empty table, he placed a bowl of porridge and a corncob in front of himself, then split the roasted meat in half, leaving one portion for himself. The rest—all the remaining meat and an extra bowl of porridge—was for Lang Qi.

Lang Qi frowned at this habit of Bai Tu’s. “You eat first.”

Bai Tu rolled his eyes. What was with this guy? Why did he always insist on eating leftovers?

“Eat up and hurry to feed the cubs after,” Bai Tu said. 

Perhaps due to the exhausting journey, the cubs had unusually slept in today. Even though it was already noon, they were still asleep.

“Mm.” Lang Qi nodded, but he didn’t mention that the cubs had already eaten once in the morning.

Bai Tu took a bite of roasted meat and sighed, “Mu’s cooking keeps getting better.”

The food they had on the road wasn’t bad, but it definitely couldn’t compare to the meals back in the tribe.

The livestock pens weren’t just for raising prey animals—they also contained several fully grown wild beasts. 

The larger ones were tightly bound to prevent them from attacking people. 

They were only partially unrestrained when necessary, but a metal chain was always kept on them. 

These beasts were the tribe’s winter food reserves—ensuring fresh meat was available at all times instead of relying solely on frozen stores.

Thinking about this, Bai Tu realized that the forage-processing team needed more people. While the temperatures weren’t unbearable yet, they should take advantage of the current conditions to stockpile more dried grass. After all, these animals also relied on stored feed to survive extreme droughts and winters.

Lang Qi ate quickly. After finishing, he went to fetch food for the wolf cubs and woke them up for their meal.

Still half-asleep, the two little wolves smelled the food before they even opened their eyes. Almost immediately, they perked up and reached out to grab Lang Qi’s hand, eager to eat from the spoon.

Bai Tu sighed. “I should’ve just left them in the tribe.”

Even though he had taken good care of them during the journey, it still wasn’t as comfortable as staying in the tribe.

“No.” Lang Qi looked up at him. “They have to come.”

Wherever they went, the cubs had to be with them.

If they didn’t bring the cubs, Bai Tu would definitely find a way to slip away—Lang Qi knew that all too well. Hiding the complicated emotions in his eyes, he fed the last spoonful of food to the cubs.

“Fine, fine. We’ll bring them, we’ll bring them.” Bai Tu sighed, giving up the argument. 

Looking on the bright side, by the time the next market trip came around, Lang Qi should be fully recovered. He definitely wouldn’t be this possessive forever.

After finishing his corn and roasted meat, Bai Tu patted his stomach. 

Normally, this amount of food would have been enough for him. He always ordered based on both his and Lang Qi’s portions. 

Each serving of meat from the dining hall was about one kilogram, and he had eaten around a kilo of roasted meat, plus a corncob and a bowl of porridge. By all logic, he should have been full—but somehow, he still felt like he could eat more.

“Still hungry?” Lang Qi noticed something was off and asked.

Bai Tu nodded. He was still a bit hungry. He suspected it was because he had skipped breakfast and made a mental note to wake up earlier tomorrow.

Without another word, Lang Qi stood up and brought back a plate of stir-fried meat.

At first, Bai Tu thought he would only be able to eat a couple of bites. But surprisingly, his appetite was unusually strong today. 

Normally, food that felt greasy right after waking up would be unappetizing, but today, it tasted especially good. In the end, he ate two-thirds of the plate by himself, leaving only a small portion for Lang Qi to finish.

Stretching lazily, Bai Tu rubbed his stomach. 

He had half a mind to go back to sleep—but that was impossible. 

Waking up at noon was already late enough. If he went back to bed now, it would delay work. 

Sleeping in half a day could be excused as recovering from the exhausting salt trade trip, but sleeping for an entire day? That would definitely start some new rumors.

Thinking about the misunderstandings with the Leopard Tribe and Horse Tribe last time, Bai Tu immediately dismissed the idea of going back to rest. The rumors were already bad enough—he couldn’t let them spread any further.

Assigning work to the Vulture Tribe captives wasn’t just difficult for Bai An—it had taken Bai Tu an entire day to figure out a proper plan. Right now, the three most manpower-heavy tasks in the tribe were: Coal mining, limestone extraction, forage preparation.

Coal was the tribe’s primary fuel source—used for brick kilns, cooking, and heating. More than 80% of their energy needs relied on coal because it was far superior to wood.

Originally, limestone mining didn’t require that many people. After all, construction work was supposed to slow down in winter. However, after the heated kang beds were built, many beastmen wanted brick and cement walls to divide their caves. 

Compared to wooden partitions, brick walls provided far better soundproofing. With them, the caves wouldn’t feel much different from traditional homes.

As a result, the construction team’s workload increased again.

Luckily, winter was already a slow season. Building brick walls during this time wouldn’t interfere with more pressing tribe matters.

Since brick and cement demand was rising, the teams mining limestone and clay had to expand as well. This provided the perfect opportunity to assign a portion of the Vulture Tribe captives to those teams.

Forage preparation was a job with no upper limit. Whether they fed the livestock 1 kilo a day or 5 kilos a day, the animals would eat as much as they were given. The more food they stored now, the more meat they would have later.

If the Vultures weren’t so difficult to manage, Bai Tu would have assigned all of them to forage processing.

After these work divisions, half of the captives had been assigned. Each team had workers from both tribes, ensuring balanced manpower.

That left about four hundred people unassigned.

Bai Tu allocated some of them to the transportation team—since more miners meant more raw materials being excavated, they needed more people to transport everything.

As for the remaining captives, Bai Tu thought carefully before replacing some of the more well-behaved Lion Tribe workers and assigning them to jobs that the Vulture Tribe couldn’t be trusted with—such as making brick molds.

These were just temporary arrangements. Once he observed their performance, he would make adjustments accordingly.

By the time everything was settled, another two days had passed. The livestock area had finally been cleared out.

Since raw material mining sites were far from the tribe, making the Vultures commute daily would be inefficient. Instead, they were relocated to live near their workplaces, with only the transportation team remaining in the livestock area.

Of course, the Vulture Tribe’s living conditions were nowhere near as good as those of the Wolf Tribe or Rabbit Tribe.

Tribal members lived in single or double-occupancy rooms.

Vulture captives? They slept in shared dormitories—no privacy, no personal space.

As for Hong Ku and his group, who had stubbornly refused to live in the livestock area?

After freezing outside for three days, they finally gave in and moved in obediently.

However, Bai Tu still didn’t trust Hong Ku. The guy wasn’t especially capable, but he was sly enough to cause trouble. Leaving him unsupervised was risky, so Bai Tu assigned him to cleaning the livestock area.

Cleaning the pens was the most hated task in the entire tribe.

It wasn’t particularly exhausting—compared to mining coal or limestone, scrubbing floors was physically easy.

But the smell… was unbearable.

No matter how much preparation was done beforehand—no matter how many layers of animal hides were worn—once the livestock area was cleaned and the filth transported out, the stench would cling to the workers, refusing to fade.

The moment Hong Ku stepped into the warm, clean living quarters, he immediately noticed something—the number of people inside had decreased significantly compared to a few days ago.

Realizing that more and more of the Vulture Tribe captives were being taken away, he decided to gather the others that night to plan an escape.

However, before evening arrived, he was dragged off to work.

Having grown up privileged in the Red Eagle Tribe, Hong Ku had never done any real labor in his life—not even hunting. So when a broom was shoved into his hands, he was completely dumbfounded.

And as the day went on, that dumbfounded expression only deepened.

By the time he finally endured through the day’s work and returned to his living quarters at night, he was ready to rally the others.

But before he could even say a word, the moment he approached, everyone else scattered.

The beastmen assigned to watch over the Vulture captives kept an eye on him all night.

The next day at noon, they reported back to Bai Tu.

“No one is talking to Hong Ku.”

Bai Tu nodded in satisfaction. Good.

This was Hong Ku’s last chance. If he dared to stir up trouble again, Bai Tu wouldn’t hesitate to drug him.

He wasn’t like Wu Lai, who could naturally produce poison, but creating a mixture to silence someone permanently wasn’t difficult either.

After everyone left, Bai Tu finished the last few strokes of his drawing and set down the charcoal pencil.

“What’s this?”

Since Bai Tu didn’t have much to do today, he had been able to stay in the cave all day. Lang Qi also had no interest in going out, but there wasn’t much to do inside either, so he simply watched Bai Tu. The moment Bai Tu stopped drawing, he noticed immediately.

“A sickle,” Bai Tu explained.

During their recent trip to the marketplace, he had reconnected with the same beastman who had sold him wheat seed last time. He again obtained around 50 kilos of wheat seeds from the seller.

Once spring arrived, they would be able to sow spring wheat.

The wheat they had previously planted in the tribe had been growing well. Wheat was cold-resistant and could be harvested in summer. Since he already knew they’d be harvesting in a few months, it was better to prepare the tools in advance to avoid a last-minute rush.

Sickles weren’t just useful for cutting wheat—they could also be used for harvesting grass. Making them now meant they could put them to use immediately.

Bai Tu explained the design and usage of the sickle to Lang Qi.

“I think we should also make other farming tools,” Bai Tu continued.

For most beastmen, winter was a season of idleness, cold, and hunger. But in his eyes, there was just as much to do in winter as in summer.

In fact, since most people weren’t out hunting, there was even more available labor during this season.

Lang Qi didn’t comment—these were all foreign concepts to him. Instead, he silently listened to Bai Tu’s explanation, committing everything to memory.

After talking for a while, Bai Tu started feeling a bit thirsty. Just as he was about to ask Lang Qi to fetch him some water, Lang Qi had already gotten up.

“Honey water?”

Bai Tu hummed in agreement. He took the cup and drank a couple of sips—only to realize he was feeling hungry again.

Even without a clock, Bai Tu was certain that it had been less than two hours since he had last eaten. And he had eaten a lot at that meal.

Lately, his portion sizes had increased by at least half compared to before they went to the marketplace.

Previously, 500 grams of meat per meal was enough to fill him up.

Now? Not only was one meal no longer enough, but he felt hungry almost immediately after eating.

He was eating four to five times a day.

Even knowing that winter naturally increased appetite, Bai Tu hadn’t expected this level of change—his daily food intake had doubled.

At this rate…Would the tribe be eaten into bankruptcy?

Bai Tu frowned, feeling deeply concerned.