Perhaps because the slope was too steep, and he could see in the dark, Lin Qiu let himself break into a run.

The wind whistled past him as Lin Qiu sprinted past Lang Yan. The fire had reignited.

Another animal pelt he hadn’t taken was carefully folded and placed on a log.

Lang Shi and Lang Mo had brought this wood for him, and they had even used their claws to help peel the bark off. His portion of meat lay in the stone cooking pot, covered with a large leaf.

Lin Qiu placed the two animal hides on top of each other on his lap and gently stroked them.

He was a stranger to them; he shouldn’t have cared. But after spending just a short time with them, he found he couldn’t bring himself to ignore them. A hand reached out toward him—a large hand with extremely long fingers, the pads thick with calluses.

Resting on it was a small knife.

Exquisitely crafted and delicate, it was made of obsidian—a glossy black with a glass-like sheen. Lin Qiu rested his hands on the animal hide and looked up at the beastman, his neck long and fragile. Lang Yan glanced at him and said, “Take it.”

Lin Qiu: “You’re giving it to me?” 

“Mm-hmm.”

Lin Qiu: “I have nothing to trade.”

Lang Yan: “No need.”

Lin Qiu gripped the knife’s handle, still wrapped in animal hide. He ran it along the log, leaving a deep gash. Lin Qiu watched the figure heading toward the cave, unable to make sense of it.

He hadn’t tried to hide it; as long as Lang Yan wasn’t an idiot, he should have figured it out. What exactly was he planning? Was he going to keep him confined on Wolf Mountain forever? Lin Qiu ate dinner a bit late. When he returned to the cave, the beastmen were almost all fast asleep.

He carried the hide and the strips he’d just cut with his knife back to his grass nest and began making clothes for himself.

He held the hide up against his body, trying it on.

He’d never done this before, so he was a bit clumsy.

Lang Yan lay in the nest, eyes closed, ears pricked up, listening to the sounds nearby.

It took Lin Qiu a while to figure out how to cut the hide without tearing it, and after some effort, he began punching holes with the tip of his knife. Catching a glimpse of the fluffy wolf ears twitching nearby, Lin Qiu knew he wasn’t asleep.

As he sewed the hide, he whispered, “Can I go hunting with you guys?” Lang Yan opened his eyes; his pupils, illuminated by the firelight, held a galaxy within them.

“No.”

The answer remained the same. Lin Qiu looked away. Lang Yan said, “You must follow the priest’s instructions.”

Lin Qiu’s hand slipped, and the bone needle pricked the pad of his finger. He flinched in pain and quietly rubbed it against the animal hide. Lang Yan glanced at the tip of his finger and said, “Keep the knife in its sheath when you sleep… Behave yourself.”

He turned his head, facing away from Lin Qiu.

Lin Qiu busied himself for a moment, noticing that Lang Yan’s ears remained pricked. Realizing his own movements were keeping the other awake, Lin Qiu silently wrapped up his belongings and placed them outside the grass nest.

He lifted the animal hide and lay down in the grass nest, feeling a twinge of irritation. With his eyes closed, he wondered: How much more well-behaved was he supposed to be?

It rained again that night. Lin Qiu wasn’t used to the weather here yet. As he rolled over, the animal hide slipped from around him, leaving his entire back exposed. It was cold, and when the cub crawled back into the nest, Lin Qiu pulled him close.

Lang Yan: “……” Never mind.

His gaze swept over Lin Qiu’s back, noting the awkward sleeping posture as he wrapped the animal hide around himself, yet still curled up against him when he felt the cold.

Lang Yan lifted a corner of the animal hide and covered both him and the cub. Before long, Lang Guo came looking for them.

Seeing the cub curled up against Lin Qiu’s neck, he widened his eyes in surprise. When Lang Yan said nothing, he stormed off in a huff. Winter was always so unruly; he didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

After several days of good luck, the hunting party returned empty-handed that day.

Thanks to the abundance of lush vegetation, the foraging party still brought back a fair amount of wild greens.

Lin Qiu was fine—the jerky mixed with the wild greens at least gave him a hint of meat flavor—but the other beastmen could only chew on the greens dry. He wore the animal skin vest he’d made himself, and had swapped his animal skin skirt for a pair of animal skin shorts.

He didn’t waste the leftover animal hides either; he made two long arm sleeves to wear when outdoors and take off when it got hot.

The beastmen lay flat on the ground and plunged their heads into the pile of wild greens before them. The wolf opened its mouth wide, its sharp canine teeth gleaming, and with a howl, it devoured a huge mouthful of greens. Lin Qiu watched, the corners of his lips twitching.

The beastmen looked miserable, their eyes fixed on Lin Qiu’s pot. They were also fascinated by the strange animal skins he wore, unable to look away. It wasn’t every day they got to eat meat.

In the days that followed, when Lin Qiu woke up, the hunting party hadn’t set out.

He went to help the priest in the morning and learned that there were no herds left in the territory. Although the priest told him the beastmen wouldn’t just sit idly by, and Lang Yan had already sent several of them out to search, Lin Qiu felt the prospects were slim.

Lin Qiu: “Since there are no herds, why don’t they migrate?”

The old priest smiled, looking at Lin Qiu as if he were a young cub, his eyes filled with the weight of the world.

His voice was drained of strength, as if he were clinging to his last breath, unable to endure any further hardship.

“Our tribe has migrated three times already, from the Central Continent all the way to the Eastern Continent—but it’s the same everywhere.” 

“We no longer have the strength to migrate.”

All that remains is to wait for death.

A sudden thought flashed through the priest’s mind, but he suppressed it with endless terror. The beastmen of their wolf tribe were born to fight; they could never simply let life slip away.

Lin Qiu looked at the priest. “Do you guys have any other options?”

The old priest, furious, grabbed his staff and tapped him on the leg. “What do you mean by ‘you guys’? Let me tell you, you, Lang Qiu, are part of the Wolf Tribe too! Even if you were foolish before, you’ve made amends for your mistakes. Do you really think you can run off with that green-eyed beastman? Don’t even think about it!”

At a time when the tribe’s survival is at stake, no one is going to get away. 

Lin Qiu: “Ouch.”

Old Priest: “Hmph!”

It’s good that it hurts; if it doesn’t hurt, you won’t learn your lesson.

The sub-beastman had already been given a thorough beating when he was brought here; he looked at his father as if he were an enemy. He used to love to shout and make a fuss, but now he finally looks like he’s truly grown up.

It’s a shame he’s so solitary—he doesn’t regard the tribe as his own.

At a time like this, they must unite if they are to survive.

The old priest had little strength left; when his animal hide was spread open, his legs were as thin as skeletons, nothing but skin stretched over bone. The tribe was shrouded in the gloom of starvation.

Lin Qiu stepped out of the cave and watched as Lang Guo was cooking wild greens for the cubs.

The tribe had only two clay cooking pots: the larger one belonged to the priest, while the smaller one was under Lang Guo’s care, used exclusively to cook porridge for the cubs.

Noticing Lin Qiu watching, Lang Guo snorted and turned her back on him. Both the older and younger ones were just the same.

Lin Qiu took out the jerky he had saved and handed it to Lang Guo.

He looked young, yet every emotion was reflected in those ice-blue eyes.

Now, as he looked at the meat in Lin Qiu’s hand, his desire was plain to see. He tilted his head and muttered, “Don’t think you can win me over like this.”

Lin Qiu: “I’m not trying to curry favor with you.” Lang Guo’s neck and face immediately flushed red. 

Lin Qiu: “It’s for the cubs.”

He set down the jerky, not wanting to put this beastman—who was nearly tearing his animal skin skirt to shreds—in an awkward position.

There wasn’t much jerky, but when cooked with greens, it still gave off a faint meaty aroma. Lang Guo waited for the broth to cool, then hurriedly carried it into the cave. The cubs at least had a little something to eat, but the other wolf-beastmen weren’t so lucky.

Lang Mo lay on the ground and pulled a blade of grass from beneath his paws.

Lin Qiu watched as he put it in his mouth. He’d seen that plant at the priest’s place—eating it would make him pass out immediately.

“Don’t eat that,” he hurried over to stop him.

Lang Mo didn’t have the strength to lift his head; his eyes were glazed as he glanced at Lin Qiu. “It’s fine. It’s circle grass.” After eating it, you’d see lots of circles, and then you’d fall asleep.

He took a bite, chewed it a few times, and swallowed it.

His head lolled to one side, and he mumbled, “I’m so hungry…”

Lin Qiu grabbed his wolf fur and urged, “Spit it out!” 

“Cough… Ugh!”

Lang Xi, standing nearby, didn’t move—he’d already eaten his share.

Lang Shi watched the scene, his chin resting on the grass, his four legs tucked in to press against his belly. He said, “It’s fine. He’ll be okay after a nap. We eat this all the time when we’re really hungry.”

“What if you don’t wake up!” Lin Qiu snapped, his voice rising slightly as a faint blush spread across his face.

Lang Shi, startled by the harsh tone, licked his nose and replied, sounding slightly guilty, “We will.” 

Strange—why did Qiu’s cold expression look just as terrifying as the King’s?

Lin Qiu shook off Lang Mo’s neck. Only when he noticed the other beastmen looking at him did he realize he’d lost his composure.

Lang Guo brought out the little bit left in the jar. Seeing how anxious Lin Qiu had looked just a moment ago, and then watching the tribe members eat some circle grass and lie down on the ground, he felt a pang of sadness.

“Here, have some.” Lang Guo handed the jar to Lin Qiu. 

Lin Qiu: “No, thanks.”

His face remained tense. Witnessing the beastmen resorting to eating poison to endure their hunger had left him utterly shocked, followed immediately by a deep sense of dread. He realized all too clearly just how dire the food shortage had become.

Lang Guo thought he was afraid.

He had been afraid before; the fear of food scarcity had accompanied them since birth.

They had been striving tirelessly since the time of the previous priest, and the current priest had never given up either. Yet their numbers had dwindled from over a thousand a century ago to just over two hundred across two tribes today.

Among them, there were almost no elderly beastmen.

The cubs… at most a dozen or so, at least four or five. At least half of them didn’t survive to adulthood.

Ever since Lang Guo was old enough to understand, he’d stayed by his father’s side to help look after the cubs. When his father passed away, he took over.

The beastmen were starving; there was no milk. He had seen with his own eyes many cubs die shortly after birth.

Although he did his best to provide as much for the cubs as possible, he still had to ensure the beastmen who hunted had enough to eat. He had seen too much of this, which is why he despised what Qiu had done.

At first, he wished Qiu were dead, but now, he felt that death would be too easy for him.

Lang Guo looked at Lin Qiu. “As long as you stop doing that, the King and the others won’t stop you from going wherever you want.” Everyone was struggling to survive, and Lang Qiu had to stand with the tribe through thick and thin.

Lin Qiu looked at Lang Guo.

He really didn’t know how to explain this.

Lang Guo turned his head away. “Don’t worry. When the time comes, even though there won’t be enough meat, we’ll all grow some tail grass together. It’ll fill our stomachs a little better than wild greens.”

Tail grass？

This was the first time Lin Qiu had heard of it from Lang Guo.

He didn’t ask about it, nor had he ever seen it at the priest’s place; it must be something extremely important. Since they were going to plant it, he’d see it sooner or later.

Today, massive wolves were lying in wait all around Wolf Mountain—fewer white wolves, with roughly equal numbers of gray and black wolves. Lin Qiu didn’t want to stay out in the sun, so he headed to the priest’s cave.

But this time, the cave wasn’t just occupied by the old beastman; there was also a bustling white wolf beastman.

He was a handsome young man, and the one the old priest had referred to as the next priest.