Unlike their previous playful kisses, this one was filled with passion.

Zhang Shuguang’s cheeks flushed crimson, his whole body trembling with excitement and shyness.

He never imagined that in such a short time, he would become so attached to someone—a man, a man who, in his beast form, was a long snake—to the point where he couldn’t bear to let him go, couldn’t put him out of his mind, and was completely consumed by his thoughts.

“Are you ready, Shuguang…?” Xiong Kui hadn’t seen the two of them for a while, so he came out to call for them—only to find them hugging each other, kissing so…

He rubbed his face. Seeing the two pull apart instantly, Xiong Kui felt a bit awkward.

Zhang Shuguang cleared his throat. “Chief, sorry to have caused you trouble. I’ll be right over.” Mang Jiu said nothing, merely raising a hand to give his flushed nape a gentle pinch.

Zhang Shuguang flinched and shot him a glare. “Stop messing around!”

He didn’t even stop to think about who had started the “nonsense” in the first place.

Mang Jiu ran his hand over Zhang Shuguang’s arm. “Cold?” Zhang Shuguang gave a soft “Mm.”

Even though the wound was healing quickly, he’d lost quite a bit of blood. Mang Jiu frowned. “Where’s the ginseng? Have some more.”

Zhang Shuguang twitched the corner of his mouth. “That’s too nourishing. Well, it’s not good to eat too much of it—it can cause internal heat and nosebleeds.” He was in the prime of his youth, had just realized his feelings, and had just finished kissing…

What am I tonifying for?

I’d rather bleed from every orifice than take that stuff!

His mind was racing with wild thoughts, but it didn’t slow him down; he soon entered the cave.

Many bonfires were lit inside the cave; the temperature inside and outside was like night and day, the contrast between hot and cold particularly stark. Zhang Shuguang nodded in satisfaction. Perfect—a higher temperature would make the Beastmen who’d lost too much blood feel much more comfortable.

“What should we do first?” Ying Cao asked as he saw him enter.

Seeing the crowd gathered inside the cave, Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “Everyone else, go outside. We don’t need too many people here—just leave five to help take care of things.”

“I’ll stay,” Ying Wu spoke up first.

Xiong Kui: “I’ll stay too.”

Seeing that the rest were about to speak up, Zhang Shuguang quickly interjected, “One person per clan. No need to fight over it.” 

“I’ll stay,” said Mang Jiu.

Zhang Shuguang frowned. “Go rest over there. Don’t you know how much blood you’ve lost?”

Mang Jiu: “I’m fine, and besides, no one else from the Giant Python Clan has come.”

Counting the middle-aged Beastman Mang Yue, the Giant Python Clan had only eleven members capable of going out to hunt, and three of them were already in this cave. Two were lying down and unable to get up, and one had just recovered.

“I’m staying,” Lang Yi said, crouching beside Lang Qing.

Zhang Shuguang glanced over and raised an eyebrow.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. Lang Qing really has quite a brood.

“I’m staying too,” Lang Ming said.

Zhang Shuguang quietly tugged at Mang Jiu’s hand and couldn’t resist asking out of curiosity, “Are they brothers?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Mang Jiu nodded, then looked at the female Beastmen beside Xi Er and Xi Jiu. “Xi Wen is staying.”

Xi Wen nodded vigorously but didn’t say a word. Zhang Shuguang looked puzzled.

Mang Jiu explained, “She’s been unable to speak since childhood. She’s Xi Jiu’s older sister.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Uncle Ying Cao, let’s get started.”

“Wash your hands first, then set Lang Zuo’s broken bone.” Zhang Shuguang scooped some hot water from the stone tub and poured it into the stone basin beside him, grateful for the Beastmen’s thoughtfulness—he’d completely forgotten to prepare a basin.

He added some cold water, then soaked his hands in it for a moment before rubbing them together. The blood and grime caked on his hands dissolved in the water, and soon the clear water turned red.

Zhang Shuguang frowned, changed the water, and continued washing until his hands were red from the heat. Only when the water in the basin remained clear and clean did he take his hands out and shake them dry.

Seeing this, Ying Cao followed suit and washed his hands until they were spotless.

Mang Jiu turned and left the cave, ordering someone to start boiling water in the two nearby caves—the more hot water, the better. Lang Zuo was still in his giant beast form, lying on the ground and panting heavily.

“Shave all the fur off this leg,” Zhang Shuguang handed the fishbone knife, which had been boiled in hot water, to Ying Cao, pointing to the wound on Langzuo’s leg. “Cut along the direction of the leg bone, slice through the skin and flesh, then pick out the broken bones. Leave the larger pieces; we’ll put them back together later.”

“Put it back together?” the people left in the cave asked in unison.

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “The tiny fragments can’t be pieced back together, but the larger pieces should heal faster once reassembled. Lang Ming, could you bring me half of the earthworms they left behind?”

Lang Ming got up and left the cave to fetch the worms.

“I’ll cut the earthworms’ flesh into strips later to help you bind the bones,” Zhang Shuguang said to Lang Zuo. “Actually, my own flesh would work best. I can cut off another piece—enough for both you and Lang You.”

The two brothers, Lang Zuo and Lang You, shook their heads in unison. “No, thanks.”

Zhang Shuguang frowned; he really didn’t trust the earthworm meat.

“Mang Jiu… I was thinking…” He turned to look but found Mang Jiu was gone; his eyes lit up instantly. Xiong Kui reached out, and Ying Cao raised his arm, but neither of them was as quick as Zhang Shuguang.

Zhang Shuguang took a big step back, drew the fishbone knife he always carried at his waist, and slashed at his own arm.

“Hurry, hurry, don’t waste it.” Zhang Shuguang held the strip of meat in his hand and moved his arm—gushing with blood—over the nearest man, Xiong Hong. The blood dripped down, quickly staining Xiong Hong’s upper body red.

Xiong Hong was stunned, not daring to move a muscle.

And it wasn’t just him—the others weren’t much better off.

Zhang Shuguang looked at his wound, which had quickly stopped bleeding, clicked his tongue, and then asked Xiong Hong, “How does it feel?” Xiong Hong opened her mouth and let out a soft “uh.”

“Hungry?” Zhang Shuguang hadn’t heard her clearly.

Xiong Hong shook her head quickly. “No, the wound doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s a little itchy.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile. “We wasted quite a bit of blood just now. Get me a wooden bowl—I’ll set some aside for later.” Xiong Kui frowned and glared at him. “That’s nonsense!”

Zhang Shuguang slumped his shoulders and looked at him pitifully. “Then what do you suggest I do? I can’t just stand by and watch them set their bones only to have the flesh die because of bugs, can I?”

Xiong Kui was taken aback by his words. Spotting the piece of meat, his face darkened as he snapped, “Don’t let this happen again!” Zhang Shuguang quickly nodded. “Okay, okay. We’ll talk about it next time.”

He turned his head to look at Xiong Hui, then said to Xiong Hong, “Sister Xiong Hong,” gesturing at himself, “you spread the blood yourself.” Seeing him like that, how could Xiong Hong not realize he was trying to avoid any appearance of impropriety? She gave a slight nod with a smirk.

Zhang Shuguang turned to Ying Cao and said, “Uncle, stop watching. Get to work.”

He placed his own piece of meat on the stone slab that had been heated over the fire—a palm-sized chunk—and sighed.

“I really never thought I’d ever have to figure out how to slice my own meat so the pieces would be as long as possible,” he said as he began cutting, rotating the meat, and slicing along the edge as thinly as possible without breaking it.

Everyone was amused by his earnest, self-deprecating expression, yet they couldn’t bring themselves to laugh.

“Shuguang, thank you,” Lang Qing said.

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at him and shook his head. “No need to thank me.” After all, they were family to Li and good friends to Mang Jiu. Ying Cao held his breath, gripping the fishbone knife and gesturing back and forth for a long while, but he still didn’t dare to make the cut.

Zhang Shuguang had already finished cutting all the meat strips, yet he was still dawdling.

Zhang Shuguang’s lips twitched. He couldn’t stand watching any longer, so he walked over to Lang Yi and said, “Stuff a piece of hide in Lang Zuo’s mouth. Don’t let him bite his tongue again.” Lang Yi tore off a piece of hide from the side and shoved it in.

Lang Zuo bit down on the hide and nodded at Zhang Shuguang.

“Bear with it, don’t move.” Zhang Shuguang ran his hand along the bone beneath the fur, then brought the knife down. Perhaps because he’d just gotten into a rhythm cutting himself, he applied some force, cleanly separating the skin from the flesh.

Lang Zuo’s eyes widened suddenly, and his reflexes made him try to pull his leg back to dodge.

“Hold him down,” Zhang Shuguang said coldly.

Xiong Kui and Lang Yi pinned down the massive gray wolf together while Zhang Shuguang sliced through the flesh, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. He exhaled heavily and turned to look at Ying Cao. “Uncle, could you cut Lang You’s arm?”

Ying Cao quickly nodded. “Sure, sure, I’ll do it.”

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips and pointed to the leg bone encased in flesh and blood. “We have to pick out all these broken bones. Look here—we can piece it back together.” The two of them crouched by the wolf’s left leg, picking out the broken bones, occasionally discussing where to place the larger fragments.

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself that once he got past the mental barrier, piecing together bones wasn’t all that different from putting together a jigsaw puzzle—if only it weren’t so bloody and mangled.

“We have to straighten them out.”

Zhang Shuguang looked up at the wolf and saw that it had closed its eyes. He paused, then asked with concern, “Did the pain knock him out?”

Lang Yi nodded. “It’s fine. He’ll wake up in a moment.”

Ying Cao gripped Lang Zuo’s leg, applied a little pressure, and with a crack, the bone snapped back into place. Zhang Shuguang exclaimed in surprise, “Uncle, you know how to set bones?”

“You call that setting a bone?” Ying Cao exhaled. “I just followed the natural alignment of his bones to pop it back into place. What do we do now?”

“Line up all the usable bone fragments and put them back together, then tie them up with that strip of meat I gave you. Thank goodness he’s a giant wolf—the bones are thick enough. If the bones were any thinner, I wouldn’t dare try this,” Zhang Shuguang said as he handed over the strip of meat. He’d cut it into a very thin strip, stretching a palm-sized chunk of meat into a long, long strip. “This should be enough.”

He held the long strip of meat in his hand, wrapping it around the bone after each piece of Ying Cao he applied, essentially using the meat strip to completely encase the fracture.

The thin strips of meat were wrapped around the bone like bandages.

“What next?” Ying Cao’s hands were covered in blood. He looked up at Zhang Shuguang. “The bone and flesh are separated now. Won’t it just split open again if we move it?”

“It doesn’t matter if the flesh and bone are separated—I’ve got my own flesh here, so they’ll definitely grow back together. Just secure it first.” He turned and asked, “Have you boiled that thin vine I asked for?”

“It’s been boiled and shredded into very fine strands.” Xiong Kui nodded and went to fetch the vines for him.

Zhang Shuguang called out, “Chief, have them scrub the hard shells clean with hot water and bring them over. Also, bring the thick vines from my backpack.”

No sooner had he spoken than Mang Jiu came in from outside the cave, carrying several pieces of hard shell of varying sizes, as well as Zhang Shuguang’s backpack.

“Great!” Zhang Shuguang praised.

Mang Jiu glanced at the new patch of pink on his left arm, his expression turning icy. Zhang Shuguang grimaced guiltily and held out his hand. “Quick, give me the fishbone.”

Mang Jiu handed him the fishbone with a stern expression, standing silently by his side.

Zhang Shuguang puckered his lips at him, then held the fishbone over the fire to heat it. Afterward, he set to work carefully stitching up the wolf’s wound.

He’d poke a small hole, thread a thin vine through it, poke again, and thread again.

The vine had been torn down to about the thickness of a strand of yarn, and after boiling, it was very soft—perfect for use as thread. Since the holes made by the fishbone were spaced far apart, he didn’t dare leave too much vine inside the flesh, for fear of infection.

He took the same care when stitching the outer skin, moving with the utmost caution so as not to misalign the stitches.

“All done.” Sweat was streaming into his eyes. He turned his head and said, “Wipe the sweat off for me.”

Mang Jiu wiped his face twice with a short fur pelt; Zhang Shuguang smiled at him.

“Uncle Ying Cao, this is what sewing up flesh looks like.” Zhang Shuguang pointed at the hairless leg, finding it hard to look at. “Quick, give me the hard armor. Snap it on and tie it down.”

Mang Jiu handed him two pieces of hard armor that fit perfectly. He slipped Lang Zuo’s injured leg right into them and snapped off the excess. Watching Mang Jiu snap the armor into place with such deftness—click, click, click—Zhang Shuguang couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.

Is it really necessary to get so worked up…? Alright, he’ll admit he was wrong.

Mang Jiu pulled out a thick vine, tore it open, and used it to bind the hard armor in place. He turned to look at Zhang Shuguang. “Is this okay?”

“It’ll do!” Zhang Shuguang had originally wanted to point out that the thick vine hadn’t been washed, but then he realized it was essentially serving as a bandage—and nobody was going to wash a bandage anyway.

“Is that it?” Lang Zuo had woken up long ago but hadn’t opened his eyes. He lifted his head and asked, “Can I move?” 

“If you don’t want this leg to grow crooked and suffer all over again, you’d better keep it still—don’t move it for at least a month. You’ll also have to stay in beast form; you can’t turn back into human form.” 

Lang Zuo went, “Oh,” and said, “I’ll remember that.”

Zhang Shuguang picked up the remaining strips of meat and checked their length, realizing there should still be plenty left after binding Lang You’s bones. “Lang You, come on, lie down on it yourself.” Zhang Shuguang pointed at the stone slab bed. “You watched the whole thing just now; you know the procedure, right?” Lang You’s mouth twitched, and he resignedly lay down.

“Can I make a request?” Lang You swallowed hard, looking pleadingly at Mang Jiu.

Mang Jiu raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Go ahead.”

“Knock me out.” Lang You took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Mang Jiu reached out, and with a single blow, the wolf’s right eye snapped shut, and he passed out.

Zhang Shuguang and Ying Cao were washing their hands and blades nearby. When they saw Mang Jiu’s move, Zhang Shuguang’s eyelid twitched. “I was wrong.” 

Mang Jiu glared at him, said nothing, and let out a very soft “Hmph!”

Zhang Shuguang sniffed and gave a dry laugh.

Lang You’s arm wasn’t as badly injured as Lang Zuo’s leg. They used the same method to set the bone, and this time, Ying Cao did the stitching. As they broke the hard armor into small pieces to splint the arm, Zhang Shuguang staggered.

Mang Jiu caught him and said coldly, “Still trying to be a tough guy.”

“I was wrong, okay? Don’t be mad.” Zhang Shuguang gave a weak smile, raised his hand, and jiggled the remaining strip of meat. “Here, have some.”

Mang Jiu: “……” He was nearly driven to fury!

The others’ wounds only needed stitching, which Eaglegrass could handle on his own. Zhang Shuguang sat on Mang Jiu’s lap, tilted his head against his shoulder, and fell asleep.

Xiong Kui brought over a piece of animal hide and gently draped it over him.

Mang Jiu looked up at Xiong Kui, who whispered, “Don’t worry, no one will talk about this.” Mang Jiu said, “Thank you.” He raised his arm to wrap it around Zhang Shuguang’s waist, shielding him.

When he woke up, Zhang Shuguang rubbed his eyes and realized he was still on Mang Jiu. Only, whereas he’d been sitting on his lap when he first fell asleep, now he was lying on top of him. Their heads were pressed together, his body resting against Mang Jiu’s, held tightly in his arms. 

“Awake?” Mang Jiu’s deep voice sounded in his ear.

“Mm-hmm.” Zhang Shuguang rolled off him and sat down beside him, running his fingers over Mang Jiu’s body. “Your wounds are all healed.”

“Didn’t you give me a piece of flesh? I was fine after eating it.” Mang Jiu ran his fingers through Zhang Shuguang’s hair a few times. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” Zhang Shuguang nodded. “I feel like I could eat a whole cow.”

Mang Jiu chuckled softly. “They’ve gone hunting. They should be back soon.”

Zhang Shuguang turned to look. The injured Beastmen were all inside the cave, breathing steadily, sound asleep.

“Did Uncle Ying Cao give them medicine?” He sniffed the air, catching a faint scent of herbs.

“Yeah, Ying Cao brewed a decoction for them and added some of that universal antidote you gave me. It actually tasted pretty good.” Mang Jiu sat up straight. “Don’t do that again. If anyone leaks this, you’ll be in serious danger.”

Even though they were all members of the same tribe, and even though they usually got along well, that didn’t stop some from harboring ill intentions toward Zhang Shuguang because of his uniqueness. Zhang Shuguang obediently hummed in response, leaning forward to gently bump his forehead against his shoulder a few times. “I was really worried.”

“Mm, I know.” Mang Jiu wrapped an arm around his shoulders and patted him. “Are the kids being looked after by Li?”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “Second Brother didn’t want me to come, but I just couldn’t stand staying put. You know what I’m like, right?”

He looked up at Mang Jiu and patted his chest. “I was so flustered—it feels like my heart’s about to jump right out of my chest.”

Mang Jiu chuckled at his gesture. “Do you remember what you said yesterday?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you…” Zhang Shuguang leaned close to his ear and whispered, “…You get it? I suspect it knows a lot.”

Zhang Shuguang told Mang Jiu everything about Xiao Cai and the main system Xiao Cai had mentioned, then asked, “Do you think I should ask?” 

“What do you want to ask?” Mang Jiu tilted his head to look at him. “It managed to keep it from you once—how can you be sure if what it says is true or false?”

Zhang Shuguang pursed his lips. “That’s exactly why I’m a bit torn about whether to ask.”

Seeing the look on his face, Mang Jiu knew he wanted to ask but wasn’t sure what the answer would be. He reassured him, “Just ask what you want to ask. Whether you believe what it says or not is up to you. Don’t overthink it.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded. “You’re right.”

While the two of them were whispering intimately to each other, the Beastmen who had been sleeping began to wake up one by one.

Thanks to the help of Zhang Shuguang’s flesh and blood, those with the most severe injuries recovered the fastest, and the others were also in fairly good condition—at least none of them had developed a high fever.

Lang You and Lang Zuo—one with a bandaged leg, the other with a sling on his arm—showed signs of recovery. Ying San’s wings, which had been reduced to little more than a skeleton, had grown a layer of pink, membrane-like flesh, through which the fine network of blood vessels was clearly visible.

Zhang Shuguang glanced at them and couldn’t help but shiver. “This is truly… incredible.” The others laughed in agreement; it was indeed quite miraculous.

“Shuguang, you really are the Divine Son, aren’t you?” Ying Sam stared at Zhang Shuguang, his eyes brimming with excitement. “My father said the Divine Son would descend upon the continent.”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself: If I am the Divine Son, I didn’t descend—I was pushed down. When others descend, they land gracefully on their feet; I probably fell flat on my back, likely hitting the back of my head face-up. That’s why I’ve forgotten everything I should have remembered and retained nothing I shouldn’t have.

He used to be able to deny that he was the Divine Son, but now, even he harbored doubts about his identity.

Scratching his face, he shook his head and said, “Actually, I really don’t know what I am.” There was no one else in the cave. Zhang Shuguang said, “I have a fragment of memory that’s incomplete—I’ve lost my memory.”

Mang Jiu looked at him in surprise.

Zhang Shuguang quietly squeezed his hand.

“Some of my childhood memories are very vague, so I don’t know who I am. I hope you’ll all help me keep this a secret. Please, everyone.” He pressed his palms together and bowed to the group.

The group was taken aback.

Mang Jiu raised his hand to press Zhang Shuguang’s down, then turned to them and said, “This is our savior.” The others nodded repeatedly. “We won’t say a word. Absolutely not.”

Zhang Shuguang thanked them, then leaned back against Mang Jiu’s shoulder and muttered, “I have a hunch.” Mang Jiu looked at him. “Hmm?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head and said nothing more.

“Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Ask your main system when it’s free. I’ll be talking to it for forty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds—you keep track of the time for me.” 

Xiao Cai: “…Master, the system awarded you 500 points for saving the Beastman yesterday.”

Zhang Shuguang paused in surprise. Mang Jiu looked down at him.

Zhang Shuguang shook his head slightly at him, then closed his eyes.

“Summon the Main System now. Immediately.”

Xiao Cai: “Yes, Master. Please wait a moment.”

Main System: “Hello, Host. I am the Main System of the Green Vegetable App. How may I assist you?” 

Zhang Shuguang’s eyes shifted beneath his eyelids; he rolled his eyes while keeping them closed.

“I have a question I need you to answer.”

Main System: “Please ask.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Three lifetimes, three reincarnations, right?”

Main System: “……” He’d been flayed alive right off the bat. Why had it agreed to come here in the first place? It was asking for trouble. 

Zhang Shuguang: “My flesh and blood can regenerate quickly because I’m the Divine Son, right?”

Main System: “……” Another layer of skin peeled away—it was starting to get a little panicky.

Zhang Shuguang: “In my first life, I was pushed off a mountain; in my second, my flesh and blood were drained; in my third, I died saving someone. But in my fourth life, for some reason, I reincarnated into the modern world—is that right?”

Main System: “……” Sizzle, sizzle—the signal is flickering.

Zhang Shuguang: “You must have been something—perhaps a Beast God—from my first life. Using either mental energy or divine power, you pulled me back from the modern world. Since you couldn’t control the spacetime turbulence, you could only drop me randomly, so I ended up in my second life, right?”

Main System: “……” It’s too late to disconnect now.

Zhang Shuguang: “That book—did you write it? Was it meant for me to see it in the modern world and trigger my familiar memories? Too bad I died after reading only a few thousand words, so you gave me the Green Vegetables app to gradually make me doubt my own identity.”

Main System: “……”

Zhang Shuguang: “What are you trying to do?”

Main System: “You said you’d ask me one question. You’ve asked many; I don’t have to answer.” It struggled.

Zhang Shuguang: “Haha, I said I have a question I want you to answer. I’ve asked several questions, and you haven’t answered a single one. What’s wrong with that?”

Main System: “……” How did it come to this! Why has its round, tender, adorable, kind-hearted, and innocent little master turned into this cunning, sharp-witted, and eloquent mature man!

Aaaah, give me back my little master! The Main System crackled with electrical signals.

Zhang Shuguang opened his eyes and met Mang Jiu’s gaze.

He pursed his lips. “He didn’t answer a single question, but I found the answers myself.” Mang Jiu nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Zhang Shuguang pouted so deeply his lips could hang a bottle of oil, and said plaintively, “It’s true.” Mang Jiu froze. “And then?”

Zhang Shuguang shook his head, signaling that he’d explain in detail once they got back. Mang Jiu didn’t press the matter further.

The others, hearing the two of them exchanging cryptic remarks, didn’t pay much attention. They lay sprawled on the hides, eagerly awaiting the return of the hunters to be fed.

Back at the Cliff Shore Tribe, Mang Er had led a group to keep watch all night. Upon receiving word from the Giant Eagle Tribe that everyone was safe, he let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Shaman, it’s all right,” Mang Er went to the Great Cave and told Wu Ming, “No one died.”

Wu Ming nodded, a faint smile appearing on his previously tense face. “As long as he’s not dead, it doesn’t matter if he’s maimed—he’s still alive.” Mang Er sat down across from him and sighed. “Wu, are you hiding something from me?”

Wu Ming looked at him.

Mang Er cut straight to the heart of his suspicion. “Shuguang—is he the Divine Son?” A flicker of emotion crossed Wu Ming’s eyes.

Mang Er sighed helplessly. “You’ve tried so many times, but you can’t see anything from either Mang Jiu or me.”

Wu Ming raised an eyebrow, a smile creasing his weathered face. “I can’t see Shuguang either. I can only see him when he wants me to. But as for you two—even if you want me to see you, I still can’t.”

Mang Er said nothing.

Wu Ming chuckled softly. “Of everyone I’ve ever met, only the three of you are different—I can’t see a thing.”

Mang Er exhaled and rubbed his face with his hand. “I actually have a slightly different feeling. The first time I saw Shuguang, it felt very familiar, as if I’d seen him somewhere before.”

Wu Ming looked at him with some surprise. “If Mang Jiu heard you say that, wouldn’t the two of you end up whipping each other’s tails?” 

“I’ve told Mang Jiu that,” Mang Er chuckled softly. “He said I’ve been sleeping too much.”

Wu Ming burst out laughing, clearly amused.

Mang Er resisted the urge to roll his eyes and said to him, “Shaman, I’ve actually had a suspicion all along.” Wu Ming’s smile faded as he looked at him. “What suspicion?”

Mang Er stared at him for a moment, shook his head, and stood up. “Never mind, we’ll talk about it later. You should get some rest—you’re getting on in years, so you need to sleep more.” After he left, Wu Ming slowly furrowed his brow.

Just now, he’d thought Mang Er was going to ask about their father.

Wu Ming’s brow remained furrowed as he recalled events from many years ago, then he stood up and walked out of the cave.

Mang Er took a detour up the mountain, passing by the cave where they were staying, but heard no sounds coming from inside. He felt slightly relieved—at least the kids weren’t causing a ruckus.

But just as he reached Mang Jiu’s cave, he heard two soft fluttering sounds from inside, followed by the cubs running out.

The three cubs, hearing footsteps, were the first to dash out of the cave. Tangdou let out a little “chirp” and shot out like a tiny cannonball; Mang Er quickly reached out to catch her before she could crash into him.

Maodou ran up to Mang Er, whimpering softly, his mandarin duck eyes brimming with anxiety. Naidou jumped up to grab his leather skirt, but Mang Er caught her fluffy little butt with one hand.

Li rushed out in a hurry. After Zhang Shuguang had hurriedly left, the three cubs didn’t stay with him at all—they all ran back over here.

Li understood how the little ones felt, so he simply stayed with them in the cave. As a result, the three little ones barely slept all night. One lay at the cave entrance, whimpering softly; another lay on the low wall, meowing softly; and the last one darted here and there, chattering nonstop.

He was so sleepy his eyelids were drooping, but he dared not let his guard down, afraid he might miss the little ones running off. No matter how much he coaxed them, they’d barely been lulled back inside before suddenly darting out again.

When he saw it was Mang Er standing outside the cave, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Are they still alive?” he asked anxiously. The three cubs also looked at Mang Er.

“Yeah, they’re all fine, all alive,” Mang Er said. “Lang Zuo and Lang You are a bit worse off, but your father isn’t seriously hurt. They’ll need to recuperate over there for a while before they can come back.”

Li exhaled, his legs giving way as he sank to the ground, muttering, “That’s good, that’s good. As long as they’re all okay.” Although Li wasn’t particularly close to those brothers in everyday life, the fact remained that they were blood relatives. If anything had really happened to them, he would have been heartbroken.

The three cubs whimpered and sniffled. Mang Er patted each of them on the head and smiled. “Shuguang won’t be back for a while. You help him look after the cubs and don’t go out with the foraging team. I’ll hunt some game for you.”

Li sat on the ground, looking up at him. “Um… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mang Er bent down, scooped up Maodou—who was clinging to his leg—with one hand, and said as he walked toward the cave, “There’s nothing wrong with your food. If you really don’t want to, just set some aside for me when you’re cooking.”

Li let out another “Ah,” scratched his head, and climbed awkwardly to his feet, following him into the cave. “Well, um… thanks.”

Mang Er shook his head without speaking. He set the three cubs down on the stone slab bed, patted each one on the head, then turned to look at Li and asked, “Did none of you get any sleep? You don’t look too good.”

Li grimaced and pointed at the three cubs lying quietly on the bed. “They’ve been howling all night. I was nearly exhausted.”

“Then take them to bed now. I’ll come back later to leave the meat at the cave entrance.” Mang Er chuckled and turned to leave.

Li watched him leave, then turned to look at the three kids and discovered they’d actually curled up together—one leaning against the other, one on top of the other—and fallen asleep! He yawned; he was pretty tired.

Far away at the hunting grounds, Zhang Shuguang had eaten a meal of grilled meat—yes, just plain grilled meat. He chewed mechanically, his face expressionless.

Mang Jiu sat beside him. Seeing the blank expression on his face, he asked, “Why don’t we go for a walk later?”

Zhang Shuguang shoved the last tiny piece of grilled meat into his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. “Not just yet. Let’s wait and see. Even though you guys killed all these bugs, there’s no guarantee there aren’t others. A weakling like me would just be a burden to you guys.”

Mang Jiu chuckled. “It’s fine. We won’t go far. There’s plenty of edible stuff around here. You can go look for some.”

Zhang Shuguang was actually quite tempted. He had an instinctive urge to explore unfamiliar places, but considering the potential dangers, he still declined Mang Jiu’s offer.

How could he not see that Mang Jiu was worried he wouldn’t have enough to eat, which was why he’d offered to take him out for a walk?

“I’ll wait until the Beastmen have searched this entire area and confirmed there’s no danger before I go out. It’ll be safer that way.” Zhang Shuguang wiped his hands, stood up, and walked over to the injured man. Xi Jiu’s wounds had already healed for the most part; he was sitting there eating.

Seeing him approach, Xi Jiu held out the fruit in his hand. “Shuguang, try this. It’s sweet,” he said, sounding a bit shy and nervous.

Zhang Shuguang didn’t hesitate. After saying thanks, he took it and bit right into it. It tasted good—not overly sweet, but with a rich, fruity aroma. The flesh was quite juicy, and even after swallowing, the fruity scent lingered in his mouth.

He glanced at the green fruit in his hand—seedless, with white flesh. “This isn’t ripe yet, is it?” He had long since stopped trying to make sense of the growth cycles of the plants here; they simply didn’t match anything he knew about ripening.

Xi Jiu nodded. “It’s not ripe yet. When it’s ripe, it turns red and is much sweeter than this.” 

“What’s it called? Where did you pick it?” Zhang Shuguang asked with great interest.

Xi Jiu shook his head. “I don’t know what it’s called. Xi Wen picked it; she likes to eat fruit.” Seeing that he liked it, Xi Jiu picked up a few more from the nearby leaves and handed them to him.

Zhang Shuguang waved his hand. “This is enough, thank you. Please ask Xi Wen for me where these fruits are picked—I’d like to go pick some myself later.”

“Sure.” Xi Jiu nodded vigorously.

Zhang Shuguang smiled at him and examined the wound that was slowly healing. There were no signs of infection or swelling—it looked good.

He then went over to Lang Zuo. The giant wolf was lying on his side because one of his legs was immobilized by a hard splint. He was uncomfortable and kept trying to shift. Lang You, with his arm in a sling, remarked from the side, “If you can’t help but roll over and end up on top of him, don’t go howling if you end up with a lame leg.”

Lang Zuo quickly relaxed his body, his purplish-red tongue hanging halfway out of his mouth. “It’s itchy.”

“Itchy, that’s right,” Zhang Shuguang crouched down and rubbed his large nose, which was damp and warm. “Is anything else bothering you?”

Lang Zuo quickly retracted his tongue. “No, it’s just my leg. It’s itchy all the way down to the bone.”

“That’s a sign it’s starting to heal. Ask Lang You—his arm must be itching like crazy, too.” Zhang Shuguang pointed at Lang You’s arm, who was nodding vigorously beside him. “Your injuries are even worse than his. You’d have something to cry about if it didn’t itch. Just bear with it for a few days; you’ll get used to it.”

Wolf Zuo looked as if he had lost all will to live. “Can’t I turn into human form?” 

“Can you turn back?” Zhang Shuguang asked in return.

Lang Zuo looked down at his injured leg, then flopped back down heavily. “I can’t.” With such a large piece of hard armor strapped to him, he simply couldn’t transform.

“You’re a Beastman. Treating you in your beast form is the best option. Lang You should actually be treated in his beast form, too, but since he shifted back to human form first, we can only treat him as a human. Neither of you is allowed to shift until your injuries are completely healed,” Zhang Shuguang instructed them. “Got it.”

The two brothers quickly nodded.

“Very good. I’ll make you some potato porridge tonight.” Zhang Shuguang smiled warmly, reaching out to pat Lang Zuo’s massive wolf head. But just as he raised his hand, he felt an icy stare piercing his back, like needles pricking his skin.

His mouth twitched slightly as he slowly turned his head to look back, only to find Mang Jiu staring at him—or, more precisely, at his hand. “Heh, heh,” Zhang Shuguang gave a dry laugh, quickly withdrew his hand, and turned to walk toward where Lang Qing and Mang Yue were resting. 

He muttered to himself, How come I never realized before that Mang Jiu was such a jealous type?