Chapter 98
Maybe it was because he had just finished making jianbing guozi, but the moment Bai Tu saw the braised meat, another snack immediately came to mind—roujiamo (Chinese meat sandwiches).
There was still some freshly ground flour left, and the kitchen was well-stocked with ingredients. Bai Tu patted his stomach and decided to give it a try. He might not be able to make a perfect replica, but surely he could manage a simple version.
Every shop’s roujiamo had its own unique style.
Bai Tu decided to make the crispy-skinned version. The method was straightforward: mix the dough with warm water, pull off small portions, roll them into strips, coil them into disks, and bake them on the stovetop.
To accommodate different cooking methods, the kitchen had already undergone several modifications.
The beastmen had grown up eating roasted meat, and even though their food options had expanded, their love for barbecue hadn’t diminished in the slightest. In fact, with more seasoning options and dipping sauces available, their appetites had only grown.
As a result, the tribe had more grills and roasting setups than any other cooking equipment. From open flames to stone slabs to metal grates, they had it all. Bai Tu didn’t need to find any special tools to bake his bread.
Once the flatbreads were golden brown on the outside, they were ready. Using a pair of bamboo tongs, Bai Tu picked one up with one hand while grabbing a knife with the other, intending to slice it open.
Before he could do it himself, Lang Qi immediately took over. “I got it,” he said, taking the knife and tongs from Bai Tu and carefully cutting the bread down the middle as instructed.
The crispy, steaming hot flatbread was then stuffed with finely chopped braised meat. The juices from the meat seeped into the bread, staining it a rich golden brown. As the aroma of seasoned meat mixed with the toasty scent of baked bread, Bai Tu’s stomach let out an audible growl.
The roujiamo had a crunchy exterior and was packed with tender, flavorful meat. The first bite was so good that it made Bai Tu want to swallow his tongue.
He had baked six in total. Bai Tu ate two himself, while Lang Qi, as usual, remained silent and simply placed the remaining four in front of him.
Bai Tu had originally planned to save one for Tu Mu, considering how much he had helped in the kitchen. However, to his surprise, Tu Mu outright refused.
Waving his hands in rejection, Tu Mu firmly declined, saying, “I’ll make my own. You two go ahead and eat.” He watched them with a broad smile, looking even happier than if he were eating himself.
Bai Tu assumed he just wasn’t that fond of flour-based foods and didn’t insist further. Roujiamo was best eaten hot, so he didn’t bother saving any for Lang Ze and the others. With Tu Mu in the kitchen, they could always make fresh ones when they arrived.
Lang Qi devoured all four of his in one go, making it very clear how much he liked them.
After eating nearly double his usual dinner portion and drinking half a bowl of porridge, Bai Tu finally felt full. He and Lang Qi then headed up the mountain to the cave, where Bai Tu began flipping through the bamboo slips that recorded the beastmens’ skills.
The two tribes together had over six hundred beastmen residents. Some of them held key roles that couldn’t be reassigned easily, but there was still a portion that could be adjusted.
Bai Tu calculated the recent increase in manpower, then tallied the number of beastmen with cooking skills and assigned a few extra workers to each kitchen area.
Winter naturally required a higher food supply, and with everyone working harder lately, paying more attention to meals was necessary.
Since beastmen used to cook their own meat, most of them had at least some cooking ability—it was just a matter of skill level.
Bai Tu selected those whose cooking skills were stable. Someone like Lang Ze, whose abilities fluctuated wildly and only improved when he ate while cooking, was immediately disqualified. Bai Tu didn’t want to assign someone who might end up eating all the food before it even reached the table.
A beastman’s appetite was like a bottomless pit—it could always grow larger.
Bai Tu didn’t want anyone overeating to the point where they couldn’t walk and then coming to him for digestive medicine. So, for the sake of everyone’s well-being, he chose more self-disciplined beastmen for the kitchen roles.
After finalizing the assignments, Bai Tu glanced outside and called out to Bai Dong, who was idly wandering around. He briefly explained, “These are the updated work assignments. Take them to the chief and Chen so they can implement the changes.”
Every job had a direct supervisor. Even though Bai Tu had selected the workers, the changes still needed approval from their current managers before they could be reassigned.
Running around to deliver messages—especially between the mountain and the settlement—was a bit much for Bai Tu, so he usually found someone with free time to handle it.
Since delivering messages earned a few contribution points, it was one of the children’s favorite tasks.
“Got it!” Bai Dong grabbed the list and took off running before Bai Tu even finished speaking. By the time his voice faded, Bai Dong was already disappearing around the corner.
Bai Tu organized the bamboo slips on the table before pulling out another booklet and beginning to write. This one was specifically for the Vulture Tribe, recording all rewards and punishments to prevent anyone from trying to slack off or play tricks.
Just like how the Lion Tribe from the Wild Lion Clan treated them differently, the Vulture Tribe was also divided into several factions.
The largest group consisted of the resigned faction—those who accepted their fate and took things one step at a time.
They had been captured, so they obediently followed orders. If assigned a task, they did it properly.
Back in the Red Eagle Tribe, they had been under orders as well, and now, the only difference was that they were following commands from a different leader. These people were the easiest to manage, but they were also easily swayed by external influences.
Next was the observant faction.
On the surface, they complied with orders, working diligently without complaint. But in reality, they were constantly looking for a chance to escape.
The moment an opportunity presented itself, they wouldn’t hesitate to run—even if it meant killing the beastmen guarding them. These individuals might seem honest at first glance, but they were like ticking time bombs that had to be closely monitored.
The final group was the resistant faction, mostly composed of those who had held power in their previous tribe.
They had gone from giving orders to following them, forced to do various tasks every day. Unable to accept the drastic shift in status, they constantly plotted ways to escape and take revenge, even attempting to contact potential allies.
Each group received different treatment.
The beastmen who worked diligently were given the best conditions—so long as they completed their tasks, the tribe provided them with food, clothing, and other necessities.
The observant faction received slightly worse treatment, with less freedom. The resistant faction, however, had it the worst. They constantly shouted about taking revenge, but no one in the tribe had any patience for them—anyone who acted up got kicked down. Just thinking about the starving, frail cubs they had rescued was enough to erase any sympathy for the Vulture Tribe.
The Vulture Tribe had a large population, and organizing the full list of names wasn’t something that could be done quickly. However, it had to be done properly to ensure that justice was served later—especially for those who had been involved in stealing cubs. Their punishment would be even harsher.
That night, Bai Tu stayed up late finishing the Vulture Tribe’s records. The next morning, after distributing the members into different teams, he didn’t return to his usual cave to rest. Instead, he headed to another cave to check on the cubs.
With careful care along the journey and proper nourishment after arriving at the tribe, the cubs’ appetites had increased significantly. However, Bai Tu still reminded everyone to feed them in small portions but more frequently.
Many of them had digestive issues from being locked up for too long, especially those who had been imprisoned the longest.
There were a total of thirty-three lion cubs.
When the Lion Tribe members heard this number, those who had lost children became incredibly excited. Over the past few years, the Wild Lion Tribe had lost thirty-six cubs in total—meaning there was a good chance their children were still alive.
However, to their frustration, Bai Tu still didn’t allow anyone else to approach the cubs.
The only ones allowed to care for them were the same group who had fed them during the journey, with a few additional members from the Rabbit Tribe. Bai Tu never mentioned when the cubs would be reunited with their families.
Some lions were unhappy with this decision, but since the order came from Bai Tu, not even Bai An or Lang Ze would object. While their treatment was better than the Vulture Tribe’s, they were still technically the defeated side and had no right to negotiate terms with Bai Tu.
As the lions waited anxiously, Bai Tu finally relented and allowed them to come and identify their children.
It wasn’t that Bai Tu had been deliberately keeping the cubs from their parents. In fact, caring for so many cubs was a huge burden on the tribe—it would be best to return them all.
No matter how adorable someone else’s cubs were, they would never be as precious as one’s own. And with nearly two hundred cubs to care for, even with their best efforts, they would still be better off with their families.
The tribe had experience raising rabbit and wolf cubs, but taking care of cubs from other species was proving to be a challenge. Bai Tu would be more than happy if all of them could be reunited with their parents.
But things weren’t that simple. The cubs had suffered too much trauma in the Red Eagle Tribe—it wasn’t something they could recover from overnight. Even though they were now in a safe environment where no one would harm them, they still instinctively feared unfamiliar beastmen.
On the journey back, although the same beastmen had been caring for the cubs, their surroundings changed almost daily. But now that they had stayed in this cave for several consecutive days, the cubs had grown familiar with the environment. This meant that when the lions came searching for their young, the cubs would be less frightened.
Lions identified their kin by scent. Even after years of separation, they could still recognize the scent of their closest family members. The first to come forward was Shi Jia.
Shi Zhen had gone to the Red Eagle Tribe, but Shi Jia had learned on the day of their return that there were over thirty lion cubs among the rescued.
She had been waiting for this opportunity ever since. Since she couldn’t see the cubs, she had taken on the task of washing their clothes, hoping to catch the scent of her own child. However, with all the cubs’ clothing piled together, it was impossible to tell if hers was among them.
Finally, the day had come. When Shi Jia first heard the news, she thought she had imagined it out of sheer desperation. It wasn’t until the messenger child repeated Bai Tu’s orders that she snapped out of her daze and ran straight to the cave entrance to wait.
To avoid any mistaken identities and to prevent scaring the cubs, Shi Jia chose to enter alone. When she stepped inside, only Bai Tu and the cubs were present—Lang Qi had been sent to the far side of the cave by Bai Tu.
“Take your time, sniff them one by one,” Bai Tu instructed.
The scent of adult beastmen was strong, and too many people in the cave would interfere with the lioness’s judgment. All non-lion cubs and their caretakers had been moved to the other side of the cave. Bai Tu was the only one staying close, ready to comfort any frightened cubs immediately.
Shi Jia shifted into her beast form.
Among lionesses, she was one of the stronger ones—so much so that she was even bigger than some male lions.
She had been a hunting team leader in the Wild Lion Clan, capable of facing down a ton-heavy wild bull without hesitation. Yet now, this lioness who had never feared death was moving with extreme caution, terrified of accidentally hurting the tiny cubs that were no bigger than her paws.
She approached them slowly, carefully inhaling their scent before they even noticed her presence. Afraid of disturbing the next lion who would come to identify their child, she even held her breath.
Not this one… Shi Jia moved on to the next cub. Still not the right scent… She continued. Still wrong…
One by one, she sniffed all thirty-something lion cubs, but none of them had the scent she was searching for. The further she went, the heavier her heart sank.
At last, she reached the final cub. The scent was still wrong. Shi Jia froze.
There was only one thing more devastating than losing all hope—believing for a moment that there was a chance, only to have that hope cruelly shattered. Shi Jia slowly lowered herself to the ground, the pain of losing her child washing over her again. For a first-time mother, this kind of grief was unbearable.
The survival rate of lion cubs reaching adulthood was already low.
Lions were a warlike species, requiring large amounts of food. Even the strongest tribes struggled through winter, watching helplessly as hunger took its toll. No matter how often one witnessed this tragedy, nothing could prepare them for the agony of experiencing it firsthand.
Shi Jia felt as if all the blood in her body had turned to ice. Before seeing these cubs, she could still lie to herself—convince herself that her child had been taken by the Red Eagle Tribe and was still alive somewhere. But now, all the cubs captured by the Red Eagle Tribe were here, yet hers was not among them. This could only mean one thing—her cub was truly gone.
Drowning in despair, Shi Jia stared at the lively cubs before her. One had even climbed onto Bai Tu’s lap. For a fleeting moment, her overwhelming grief turned into resentment.
This was something many lionesses experienced. When a mother lost her cub, she would react in one of two ways upon seeing other healthy cubs: either she would treat them as her own, or she would become jealous of their survival. Some lionesses, driven mad by grief, even acted like male lions and harmed the cubs.
In the lion tribes, more cubs had died at the hands of their own kind than at the hands of outsiders.
Why is my cub gone while these ones are still alive…?
Shi Jia’s eyes darkened with resentment, her emotions spiraling out of control.
Not far away, Lang Qi, who had been keeping watch, immediately tensed, his sharp gaze locking onto her. Meanwhile, Bai Tu, fully focused on the cubs, remained unaware of Shi Jia’s change in demeanor. He was too busy reasoning with a particularly clingy cub that was trying to climb onto him for the third time.
“Be good, I’ll hold you later,” Bai Tu coaxed gently.
If a cub spent too much time in his arms, it would absorb his scent, which could interfere with the recognition process. This was too important to risk any mistakes.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it jolted Shi Jia awake as if someone had splashed cold water over her.
Her body trembled, and she shook her head, clearing away the resentment clouding her thoughts. She took one last look at the little lions in the cave—these were her kin, her tribe’s cubs.
Regaining her composure, Shi Jia slowly stood up, intending to leave.
Just as she took a step, a nearby pile of animal pelts suddenly shifted.
A round, chubby lion cub wiggled its way out, its tiny eyes covered by the folds of fur. Blindly fumbling about, the cub let out pitiful whimpers, clearly hoping someone would rescue it.
Hearing the noise, Bai Tu turned his head and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Running off again?”
It was the same cub that had been on the verge of death when they had rescued it from the Red Eagle Tribe.
It was smaller and weaker than the others, most likely due to excessive bloodletting. Whether it was the lingering trauma or its natural temperament, this cub was far more clingy than the rest and had an odd habit of burrowing into piles of pelts.
Worried that it would climb onto him and refuse to get down—interfering with the lionesses’ ability to recognize their cubs—Bai Tu had placed it at the far end of the group.
The animal pelts had just been washed and brought over, meant to be laid out for the cubs after the recognition process was complete. Somehow, this little one had discovered them and secretly snuck inside.
Bai Tu stood up, ready to help remove the pelt covering the cub’s head. Unable to see, the panicked little lion had already started stumbling around, bumping into things in an attempt to free itself. Fortunately, there were no hard objects nearby—only soft pelts—so even if it ran into something, it wouldn’t get hurt.
Before Bai Tu could approach, Shi Jia had already reached the little lion cub. Carefully, she used her teeth to lift the pelt covering it. The moment she saw the cub fully, she caught its scent.
Shi Jia’s eyes lit up. She leaned in, sniffing the cub a few more times to be absolutely certain. Then, with utmost care, she gently picked up the cub in her mouth and turned to Bai Tu, signaling to him.
“This is your cub?” Bai Tu asked.
Given how long Shi Jia had been here without finding her child, he had already guessed the painful answer.
He hadn’t wanted to push a grieving mother away, so he had simply let her stay and process her emotions. He never expected such a dramatic twist—of all the cubs, the smallest and most timid one turned out to be hers.
Shi Jia nodded. Even in her beast form, the uncontainable joy in her eyes was unmistakable. She had found her cub.
Though only one had survived, after enduring the depths of despair, even this single life felt like a miracle, enough to heal the sorrow of loss.
The cub squirmed lightly in her grip, and Shi Jia immediately tensed, momentarily forgetting her instincts. She had been so overwhelmed with excitement that she forgot such a gentle hold wouldn’t harm the cub. Worried she might be holding it too tightly, she adjusted her grip cautiously.
“Spend some time getting reacquainted,” Bai Tu said.
Since the cub wasn’t resisting, he didn’t want to waste any of their precious time together. A mother finding her lost child was always a joyous occasion—there was no need for unnecessary interruptions.
Shi Jia nodded, carrying her cub out of the cave. Every step she took radiated happiness, a stark contrast to the unease and hesitation she had displayed upon entering.
Perhaps Shi Jia’s success gave the other lionesses more confidence, or maybe some of them had just been too impatient to wait any longer—soon, two more lionesses entered together. It was clear they intended to search for their cubs at the same time.
Bai Tu didn’t interfere in their process. He simply nodded and reminded them to be careful before sitting down to rest.
He rubbed his temples.
Lately, there hadn’t been an overwhelming number of things to handle—certainly fewer than before the trip to the market—but for some reason, he felt more exhausted than ever.
In the past, a single night’s sleep would fully restore his energy, but now, he often woke up to find that it was already midday. Sometimes, he even went to bed earlier than before, yet still felt drained.
Still, he was certain that there was nothing wrong with his health. His appetite had doubled, and he was in perfect shape—if anything, healthier than ever.
Pushing the thought aside, Bai Tu turned his attention back to the two lionesses searching for their cubs. By now, they had moved toward the back of the cave. One of them had stopped, seemingly confirming something, while the other had walked all the way to the end—her reaction mirroring Shi Jia’s exactly.
No matter how many times he witnessed this scene, Bai Tu still found it difficult to watch.
The cycle of renewed hope followed by crushing disappointment was one of the cruelest things to endure. For every lioness who found her cub, another faced heartbreak.
But this was beyond his control. The only thing he could do was provide a quiet space, remain silent, and let the grieving mother process her emotions at her own pace.
The lioness who found her cub gently picked it up and placed it beside the other lioness, then lifted her head and nuzzled her companion—a bond forged over more than twenty years.
They had grown up together, later choosing the same mate, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, they would remain together for the rest of their lives. Their relationship was even closer than the one they shared with their mate.
With the comfort of her lifelong companion, the grieving lioness slowly pulled herself out of her sorrow.
She leaned in to sniff the cub and carefully licked its fur. Among lions, close companions often raised their cubs together—this little one would be no different from her own.
Perhaps influenced by the first two pairs, more lionesses began entering in twos or threes. Some found their cubs, while others did not. But those who didn’t were quickly consoled and encouraged by their companions.
Before the expedition to the Red Eagle Tribe, the lionesses had already prepared themselves for the possibility that their cubs were gone. So, the fact that some were found at all was already a blessing.
Even if their own cubs weren’t among them, they knew the rescue team had done their best—after all, not a single cub had died since being taken in.
By the end of the process, 19 of the 33 lion cubs had been claimed, leaving 14 still without a mother to recognize them.
This outcome surprised everyone. Given the close relationship between Hu Bu and the Red Eagle Tribe, they had assumed that all the lion cubs came from the Wild Lion Clan.
After Shi Zhen and the other lions had left, he sought out Bai Tu. “Did they capture cubs from other lion tribes as well?”
“It seems so,” Bai Tu nodded and pulled out a list. “These are individuals who held some status in the Red Eagle Tribe. If we question them, we might be able to get some answers.”
The Red Eagle Tribe was large and widely dispersed.
When they raided it, they had only managed to drug and subdue most of its members—some who had been out capturing cubs hadn’t even returned yet, and those were being handled by Hei Xiao.
Perhaps believing that as long as they kept quiet, no one would be able to uncover the truth, the Vulture Tribe members who had participated in stealing cubs remained as silent as stone.
They refused to say a word, especially when it came to information about the cubs’ original tribes, thinking that if they didn’t talk, no one could do anything to them.
This was precisely why Bai Tu had assigned them to work so early on.
If they took their time with interrogations, it could take who knows how long to get the full story.
Letting these people sit around and eat for free in the meantime made no sense. Instead, it was better to make them work—whether they talked or not, at least they would be doing something useful.
With the sheer number of Vulture Tribe members, it would be difficult to piece together the origins of every cub from the scattered bits of information they could extract.
The situation for the lions was even worse. Of the more than thirty cubs taken from the Wild Lion Clan, fewer than twenty had survived. Going by that ratio, it meant that in just the past few years, at least three hundred cubs had been stolen.
Forcing the Vulture Tribe to talk would take time. If they wanted to find the cubs’ families more quickly, they would need to take a different approach—such as directly asking other tribes if they had lost cubs.
Waiting for people to come to them would be much slower than seeking them out directly.
“I’ll go ask!” Shi Zhen said firmly.
It wasn’t just about Shi Jia’s other cub having died because of the Vulture Tribe—these lion tribes had placed their trust in him, and he had a responsibility to his people. He had to seek justice for the more than ten lion cubs who had lost their lives.
Bai Tu had no objections to him interrogating the Vulture Tribe. Asking repeatedly would only increase the chances of someone slipping up.
After Shi Zhen left, Bai Tu gently patted the remaining lion cubs one by one. Seeing so many massive adult lions around, some cubs were excited, while others were frightened.
Once he had finished soothing them, Bai Tu was about to call others in to tidy up the cubs’ sleeping area when Shi Zhen suddenly returned.
Shi Zhen’s expression was serious as he said, “Tu, the chief of the Yellow Lion Tribe is here.”
