The rain poured down in torrents, and the howling wind whipped the rain into a diagonal spray, causing the trees to sway violently.

A flash of white light, followed by a terrifying clap of thunder.

Deep within the pitch-black cave, Lin Qiu, nestled in a bed of grass, jolted awake.

The excruciating pain from the car accident pierced his very core, shaking his soul and leaving his head buzzing. Amid the thunder and lightning, Lin Qiu struggled in his grass nest for a long time before regaining control of his body.

“He’s not dead.” A flicker of disappointment passed through those cold eyes.

The lightning illuminated the young man’s drenched profile; his cheeks were pale, like a demon crawling out of hell.

The sensation under his hand felt strange. Before he could take in his surroundings, a spasm gripped his stomach. It felt like being scorched by a raging fire, then torn apart by a sharp blade.

Hunger raged, and Lin Qiu’s vision began to darken.

His body desperately craved food. By the light of the lightning, Lin Qiu spotted a jar in the corner, filled with water. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the jar and gulped the water down.

Only when the sensation of starvation—so intense it threatened to make him faint—finally subsided did Lin Qiu collapse, drained of strength, onto the ground. Outside, the wind howled furiously, and thunder roared, while inside the cave, flashes of lightning periodically illuminated the space as bright as day.

Lin Qiu leaned listlessly against the grass nest where he had just been sleeping, clutching his stomach, and, as if in a final burst of energy, fell into a deep sleep once more.

After the rain, the sky cleared to a crisp blue.

Rainwater had pooled into a small puddle at the cave entrance.

Sunlight streamed into the cave, bringing a hint of warmth and rousing Lin Qiu from his slumber by the grass nest.

His fingers twitched, and his long eyelashes parted. The eyes beneath were exceptionally beautiful, like a lake covered in solid ice—clear, transparent, and serene. Lin Qiu propped himself up to sit, but his movements halted when his gaze fell on the animal skin skirt he wore.

His fingers pinched the animal hide, which reached only halfway down his thigh; it was dry, stiff, and rough, somewhat resembling cowhide.

Lin Qiu furrowed his brow slightly, slowly stretching the limbs that had been stiff from lying still all night, and made his way to the nearest patch of grass.

He was now inside a cave.

The entrance was sealed with stones, leaving only a gap about a foot high at the top, through which sunlight streamed in.

The cave wasn’t large—just over ten square meters—and the grass nest where he was sitting was situated toward the back. Next to the nest was the clay jug from which he had drunk water the night before.

Lin Qiu stared at the chipped clay pot—so rough it would be a rarity even in his grandparents’ rural home—for a long time. To the right, against the wall, lay a pile of dry firewood; apart from that, there was nothing else.

His stomach still growled with hunger, and Lin Qiu curled up in the pile of straw, listless. Judging by the plots of the novels his colleagues loved to read in the office, he had most likely been transported here.

Lin Qiu reached out, examining the thin callus on his index finger and the small mole at the base of his thumb. His body felt like his own, but the shoulder-length hair was something he hadn’t had before he’d been transported here.

Lin Qiu closed his eyes wearily, pressing his hand against his stomach as he gathered his thoughts. Not bad. A different way of living.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for an unknown length of time. Just as Lin Qiu was resigned to the fact that he was going to starve to death once again, footsteps sounded outside the cave entrance. They were very faint.

But the surroundings were so quiet that Lin Qiu noticed them.

The large boulder blocking the entrance was moved aside. Lin Qiu lay facing the opening; the moment he opened his eyes, he was stunned by the vast, boundless primeval forest beyond.

The cave was situated at a considerable height. As far as the eye could see, towering trees stood with gnarled roots. The dense forest undulated with the mountain ridges, where various plants vied for survival in a fierce struggle. That vibrant vitality was breathtaking at first glance.

As the sun set in the west, he could not see the massive red orb hanging on the horizon; he could only make out the tail of a streak of colorful sunset framed at the top of the cave entrance. Nature had painted the scene with abandon—orange-red tinged with gold, a display of masterful color mixing.

Such a primal and rugged landscape rarely appears in areas accessible to humans. From the city to the primeval forest, Lin Qiu was now certain: he had truly traveled through time.

Before he had a chance to take a closer look, the newcomer blocked his view.

It was a very tall, wild-looking man, estimated to be at least 1.9 meters tall, clad only in animal skins from head to toe. He had short black hair, high cheekbones, and deep-set eyes. Tall and lanky, at first glance, he resembled a male model on the runway.

However, he was too thin—his ribs were clearly visible. This wild man’s attitude wasn’t very friendly either.

He didn’t even bother to glance at Lin Qiu, but with a look of disgust, he tossed the object in his hand into the cave and walked out. 

Lin Qiu: “Water.”

The wild man paused, glanced at the tattered clay pot in the corner, and grabbed it to bring it out. It was nearly dark, but thankfully, the rocks had been moved, making the cave a bit brighter.

Lin Qiu looked at the object wrapped in a leaf as large as a banana leaf lying on the ground; he could smell the scent of meat.

Assuming it was food for him, Lin Qiu unwrapped it. Inside was nothing but a handful of wilted grass and a charred piece of meat, no bigger than his palm.

He was so hungry that he was teetering on the brink of fainting; Lin Qiu had no energy to think. He pulled the large leaf closer and shoved the grass into his mouth first. There were many kinds of grass—tender shoots, roots, and stems—but mostly leaves. It tasted bitter; he couldn’t say it was particularly good.

Just as Lin Qiu had finished half the grass and was about to pick up the piece of meat, the wild man who had gone to fetch water returned.

Lin Qiu sensed a slightly burning gaze. He shifted his body, but the gaze continued to follow his hand. He turned his head again; the man grunted, set down the jug, and walked out.

The man didn’t leave; he simply stood guard at the cave entrance.

“If you won’t eat it, I will.”

Lin Qiu heard it.

It wasn’t directed at him; it must have been meant for the original “him.”

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Besides, who knew how long he’d live? He might as well try the local specialty. Lin Qiu took a bite—it was crisp and crunchy.

He merely furrowed his brow and chewed calmly as a bitter, burnt taste spread through his mouth—it had been overcooked and was harsh on the throat. The meat hadn’t been prepared properly; it seemed the blood hadn’t been drained completely, leaving a strong, gamey odor.

On the bright side, his teeth seemed to be in good shape.

Lin Qiu looked at the gash in the meat and silently took a few more bites. It tasted awful.

Whoever this savage was, Lin Qiu watched the charred meat scraps flutter down onto the leaves… Judging by the way the savage had been eyeing the piece of meat in his hand just now, this method of roasting was a complete waste of resources.

Not knowing if there would be another meal tomorrow, Lin Qiu set aside half the food. He gulped down some water, and only then did he feel somewhat revived. In the last light of day, he heard the savage outside slurping his saliva as his shadow moved away from the cave entrance.

The stones had sealed the cave entrance once more. Lin Qiu waited until he was gone, then tried to shift his position, but he couldn’t budge an inch. He returned to sit by his grass nest, grabbed the jar, and took a sip of water.

This time, he sipped it slowly; the water was crisp and sweet, like mountain spring water.

His gaze met the reflection in the water—it was his own face. But he looked exactly like one of those refugees from ancient Gu: disheveled and filthy, skin and bones. A little more sun and he’d be a mummy.

As the last rays of the setting sun faded, the cave plunged into complete darkness. Lin Qiu returned to his grass nest and closed his eyes to sleep.

He had no memories of this place; his mind was still the same one that had been worn down to exhaustion.

His parents—highly educated in the eyes of others—had been pushing him to excel since kindergarten. After they divorced, his mother became even more extreme, exercising a sickening control and blaming everything on him.

He resisted, but his mother threatened him with death.

As he watched them bicker back and forth—during which they inevitably dragged him out for a walk—Lin Qiu gradually became numb… Then, when he was twenty-six, they remarried all sweet and lovey-dovey and had another child.

Lin Qiu: I want to die.

And he did die—but not completely.

Now he’s a wild man. With those annoying parents out of the picture, he should learn to enjoy his life as a wild man.

Days that belonged solely to him.

A few days later, Lin Qiu realized he was essentially “imprisoned.” After a few probing questions, he understood exactly what was going on.

This place is plagued by frequent extreme weather and severe food shortages. The man… no, the beastman—he saw with his own eyes as the beastman guarding the gate transformed into a black wolf, one of enormous size, nothing like a normal wolf.

The food shortage was bad enough, but “he” had gone and stolen the tribe’s provisions alongside beastmen from other tribes. As luck would have it, he was caught red-handed by his own people. The fact that they hadn’t killed him was already a sign of mercy.

Lin Qiu spent his days huddled in a haystack, munching on wilted greens and charred meat scraps, keeping a low profile—though in reality, he was so starved his vision was blurring. When he saw the beastman come in to deliver food once again, Lin Qiu pushed aside his faint sense of impending doom and crawled out of the haystack.

He wasn’t cut out to be a savage; he wanted to improve his life.

Seeing the beastman watching him warily, Lin Qiu said, “Next time, could you bring fresh meat? No need to roast it.” The beastman glanced at him, then hurried out to block the cave entrance, afraid he might escape.

He didn’t say yes, nor did he say no. Lin Qiu took that as a yes.

As usual, Lin Qiu ate half the food to fill his stomach, then began to consider how he would prepare the fresh meat when it arrived next time. He had firewood and clay pots here—he could boil or roast—but what he lacked were knives and fire.

Lin Qiu rummaged under the pile of grass and pulled out a few stones that had been tucked at the very bottom. He selected a few of suitable size and smashed them on the ground.

The clinking and clanging sounds drew the beastman’s attention from outside. Seeing Lin Qiu pick up a thin stone slab from the ground, the beastman warned him menacingly.

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

Lin Qiu replied listlessly, “I want to make a stone knife.”

The beastman said nothing more and retreated back into the darkness outside the cave.

After smashing a few more stones, Lin Qiu’s hands trembled from exhaustion, and his stomach began to growl again. He was still too hungry.

He selected a few usable ones. Lin Qiu tested one of the leaves he’d used to wrap the meat—it was quite sharp. Next came the fire. This was Lin Qiu’s first attempt at making fire by rubbing sticks together.

He selected a piece of dry wood, scraped off the bark with a stone knife to help catch the sparks later, and carved a deep groove into the wood to hold it steady. Then he chose a long stick, sharpened one end, and began rubbing…

Rub—

The friction made Lin Qiu’s palms burn fiercely; eventually, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably, nearly sending him flying. Lin Qiu fell to the ground, his hands crimson with blood.

The beastman stood outside, his head poking through the gap at the top of the cave entrance, his gaze fixed on the half-roasted meat on the leaf. The beastman swallowed hard. “If you’re not eating the meat, I will.”

Lin Qiu’s eyes shifted slowly as he looked at the head peering through the cave entrance and asked, “Do you have a fire starter?”

The beastman snapped, “What do you need a fire for?” 

“To roast meat. Next time, I want raw meat,” he emphasized.

The beastman stepped back from the opening, and the cave grew a little brighter.

Lin Qiu heard his receding footsteps and his brow twitched slightly. The next time he came, he should get what he wanted.

The beastman looked fierce, but he was actually quite easy to talk to.

Night had fallen completely, and a pale blue-white glow shone in the distant sky.

After delivering food to Lin Qiu, Lang Mo slowly trotted back to Wolf Mountain.

They were a wolf tribe, comprising black, white, and gray wolves. Their wolf king was named Yan, who took the form of a majestic black wolf. With winters now bitterly cold and summers scorching hot, the beastmen generally lived in the largest cave at the center of Wolf Mountain.

By the time Lang Mo returned to the cave, the other beastmen had already finished their rations and were now lying motionless in their own dens. Over the past century, prey had grown increasingly scarce, and hunting had become difficult.

The beastmen were taking advantage of having just eaten to get some food in their stomachs before going to sleep, so they wouldn’t be too hungry to sleep later. Lang Mo walked deeper into the large cave and saw the black wolf near the fire, pressed against the cave wall, opened its pair of gray eyes, and looked at him. He slowed his pace and shuffled over to it.

“King. Over by the cave, Lang Qiu wants raw meat and fire.”

Lang Yan furrowed his brow. “Is he willing to eat it?”

“He is. There’s never any left.” As he spoke, Lang Mo swallowed hard. Lang Yan glanced at him. “Give it to him tomorrow. You go eat first.”

“Woof!” Lang Mo clutched his stomach and immediately left.

Lang Yan thought of that sub-beastman who had been cursing nonstop ever since he was locked up, and who had eventually been forced to be confined farther away from Wolf Mountain. His brow furrowed deeply.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Translator’s Note: This is an ongoing story, not a completed one, and sometimes authors go back to previously published chapters and change some terms, so there may be times when the translation gets outdated. No worries, most authors do alert when they change a term, and usually, it happens during the first fifty or twenty chapters, but sometimes, there will be minor revisions we don’t spot. If you read direct from JJWXC like we do, feel free to point them out. Thanks, as always, for your support!