The next day, Lin Qiu woke up the moment he rolled over, his mind still on what Lang Yan had said the night before.

Outside, it was already broad daylight, and most of the beastmen had left.

Lin Qiu lingered in his grass nest for a while, watching the wolf hairs drifting lazily through the air, then reached out and caught one. The weather was slowly getting warmer—perhaps the beastmen were about to shed their fur, too?

He wondered how they handle their fur. If only he could get some… Lin Qiu sat up, blew on the wolf hair, and stood.

Most of the beastmen who had gone hunting and gathering had left the cave, but the gathering squad led by Lang Bing—the young squad—hadn’t gone. There were about a dozen or so of them, and they were currently guarding the planting area, getting up from time to time to shoo away birds.

Lin Qiu first went to the stream to wash up, then hurried to make breakfast.

He hadn’t eaten the eggs Lang Mo had given him last time, and he’d received a generous share of wild greens last night. Lin Qiu picked out some with a crisp, refreshing texture to set aside, which would barely be enough to make a wild-green and egg pancake.

He didn’t know what kind of animal the eggs came from; they were about the size of duck eggs. The shells were green with fine speckles. Lin Qiu cracked them open, gave them a stir, tossed in the chopped wild greens, and sprinkled a little salt on top.

The stone slab was hot, but with no oil, he had no choice but to pour the mixture directly onto it.

He spread the mixture evenly. Once one side was cooked, it stuck to the stone slab and wouldn’t flip over. Lin Qiu had no choice but to break it up and give it a quick stir. Lin Qiu’s cooking spot was right at the foot of the mountain. Even without oil, the fried egg still smelled delicious.

In the priest’s cave, Lang Bing was tidying up the old priest’s quarters. He had sorted the various herbs on the wooden shelves, arranging them neatly and orderly, with the ends aligned and even the lengths matching.

After wiping the wooden boards two or three times, they were spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.

The aroma of fried eggs wafted in. Lang Bing sniffed the air and followed the scent, looking down the mountain. Qiu was cooking again.

Lang Bing turned back with a blank expression and walked over to the old priest. The old priest said, “You’re blocking the light.”

Lang Bing shifted slightly but remained standing beside him, saying nothing.

The old priest’s sense of smell had deteriorated, but he could still catch a faint whiff of the aroma. Lang Bing: “Hungry.”

The Old Priest: “Go find Qiu.” 

Lang Bing: “No way.”

The old priest held out his withered arm. “Then eat me.”

Lang Bing turned his head away. “If you hadn’t made such a mess of the cave, I wouldn’t have had to clean it up, and I wouldn’t be this hungry.” 

The old priest wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. “I don’t think it’s a mess.”

Lang Bing: “I’m not cleaning up next time.”

Old Priest: “You said that last time, too.” The old man and the young man stared at each other, both wearing blank expressions.

He’d clearly been by his side since childhood, learning how to be a priest, yet he’d picked up this nasty habit from somewhere—he couldn’t stand even a speck of dirt and insisted on arranging everything with almost fanatical precision.

“Here’s some grass. Want some?” The priest still couldn’t bear to see him go hungry.

A flash of hurt crossed Lang Bing’s eyes as he stuffed the sweet grass the priest offered into his mouth.

This was the sweet grass the priest used to coax him when he was still a cub. Before long, Lin Qiu arrived.

Since Lang Bing’s squad had been left behind to watch over the planting site, their foraging activities had to be put on hold. Fortunately, after the winter season, there would be plenty to harvest…

They’ve gathered almost all the herbs, so it won’t make much difference if they don’t go out.

As soon as Lin Qiu stepped into the cave, Lang Bing darted out. 

Lin Qiu: “Am I being rejected?”

The Old Priest: “It’s the smell of food—he’s hungry. There’s nothing much to do today. Your father sent you here for me to teach you, so tell me about what you’ve been up to.” Lin Qiu couldn’t remember a single thing—how was he supposed to explain?

There were two bundles of grass on the ground—one for him and one for the priest. Before the priest could speak, Lin Qiu asked about going to the great river and the forest. The priest replied, “You didn’t ask for that.”

Lin Qiu: “So after this, can I go wherever I want?” The priest rested his wooden staff across his lap and glanced at him.

Lin Qiu: “I was just asking.”

With that said, it was the priest’s turn to speak.

Until the sun was directly overhead, the old priest harped on the fact that, as a werewolf, he had been so easily deceived by a beastman from the Green-Eyed Tribe—and how he had nearly succeeded.

Throughout the lecture, the priest pointed out that Lin Qiu wasn’t just unintelligent—he was also naive, foolish, and unable to distinguish right from wrong. A thorough ideological re-education was clearly in order. Of course, Lin Qiu spent most of the time lost in thought, planning his afternoon.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen; it was that he didn’t even know what the “Green-Eyed Tribe” the priest was talking about actually was. When the priest finally finished, Lin Qiu gave repeated assurances, then received a bowl of herbal porridge.

After finishing the paste, Lin Qiu ran off without delay.

A few meters away, Lang Bing sat on the grass, which was covered with large leaves, watching Lin Qiu come down the mountain.

His long, white hair was braided into a plait that fell over his shoulder. Among the white wolf beastmen, he was the most diligent about grooming his fur, and his entire body was spotless. Lin Qiu noticed him immediately as well.

The young beastman didn’t show it openly, but he had a certain air of arrogance. Though he was usually quiet around others, Lin Qiu knew that, like most wolf-beastmen, he looked down on him.

Lin Qiu nodded and left first. He’d get some sleep first and deal with things later.

As Lin Qiu left, two heads appeared on either side of Lang Bing’s shoulders. Both were young beastmen: Lang Kim, a dark-haired black wolf boy with wheat-colored skin, and Lang Rong, a quiet, somewhat dull-witted gray wolf boy.

“Why are you staring at him?” Lang Kim wrinkled his nose in disgust and had Lang Bing push the head away. Lang Bing brushed the dust off his shoulder and said, “Curiosity.”

Lang Rong sat up straight, but his shoulder suddenly felt heavy as Lang Kim leaned over and draped himself on Lang Rong again, causing his shoulder to sag under the weight.

Lang Kim: “I heard the King let him leave Wolf Mountain. Do you think he’ll get into trouble again? What if we secretly follow him?” 

Lang Bing: “If you’ve got the energy, you go.”

Lang Rong, weighed down by Lang Kim, gasped for air and said, “Kim, you’re heavy.”

Lang Kim sat up straight and slapped Lang Rong on the back. “Look at you, such a wimp.” “Pfft—cough cough cough!”

Lang Bing shot Lang Kim a dismissive glance. The dark-skinned teenager chuckled, then picked up Lang Rong like a little chick and hugged him to comfort him.

“Good boy, Rong. It’s my fault.”

“I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Lin Qiu woke up to find the sky had turned overcast.

Clouds had obscured the sun, making it less glaring. He left the cave, carrying the knife Lang Yan had given him, and headed toward the river.

Lang Kim couldn’t sit still. He was the leader of the Young First Hunting Squad, and since the three of them were inseparable, with Lang Bing staying on Wolf Mountain, the other two accompanied him as well.

Seeing Lin Qiu leave, he immediately followed.

The river was vast, its surface flowing gently. Few beastmen ventured to the riverbank, so the grass remained untouched. Lin Qiu walked slowly along the riverbank, observing his surroundings.

Nearby, at the edge of a shallow sandbar, the water was so clear that he could even see a few fish swimming.

Thinking of how clumsily the wolf-beastmen ate fish, he realized it was foolish not to make better use of such a valuable resource.

Further out, near the center of the river, the fish swam in even larger schools, most of them the same size as the ones the beastmen usually caught. There was more than one such school; he could see at least three with the naked eye.

The beastmen probably rarely catch fish in the great river; the fish are slow, and they don’t even swim away when people approach. Lin Qiu casually chopped down a small tree, stripped it of its branches, and sharpened one end.

He noticed the young beastman who had followed him from a short distance away, but paid him no mind, focusing solely on observing the movements of the fish in the water.

The beastmen watched Lin Qiu from a distance, unwilling to get up. They preferred animals that ran on land to fish. Unlike the cat-beastmen, the wolf-beastmen weren’t particularly adept at eating fish. Besides, fish were hard to catch.

Lin Qiu was so engrossed in watching that he didn’t notice the main group returning. As soon as Lang Yan arrived at the tribe, his gaze fell upon the riverbank.

Seeing Lang Kim sneaking around behind Lin Qiu, he frowned and strode over.

When he saw Lin Qiu holding up a stick, standing very close to the riverbank, he dared not make a sound, afraid he might startle the man and send him tumbling into the water.

Stepping up quietly, Lang Yan suddenly grabbed the stick Lin Qiu was holding, using it to block him from the front and push him back slightly. Lin Qiu was startled.

Lang Yan: “Want some fish?” 

Lin Qiu: “Mm-hmm.”

Lang Yan: “Wait.”

He dived into the water in a flash, startling Qiu so much that he stumbled, his hand reaching out only to grasp at thin air. He could catch it himself.

A moment later, Lang Yan sank beneath the surface, disappearing from sight.

Lin Qiu couldn’t see him and, fearing he might drown, couldn’t help but step forward. Just as his straw shoes touched the wet ground, Lang Kim grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Hey! You can’t go near the riverbank.”

Lin Qiu turned to see Lang Yan climbing out of the water, clutching a big, fat fish. He forgot to respond to Lang Kim and stood there, dumbfounded. 

Lang Yan: “Should I kill it?”

Lin Qiu: “Yes.”

Before he could figure it out, Lang Yan had suddenly jumped into the river.

Lang Yan crouched down and began scaling the fish with Lin Qiu’s small knife. Lin Qiu crouched beside him, hands folded on his knees, watching Lang Yan’s movements in silence. He was soaked; his long hair clung to his back, and water still dripped from the animal hide.

“When you guys catch fish… do you just jump right into the river to catch them?”

“Yeah.” Having just gotten out of the water, Lang Yan’s voice was a bit hoarse. “That’s very dangerous.”

Lang Yan: “That’s why no young beastmen are allowed in the river, and now, sub-beastmen aren’t allowed either.”

Seeing Lin Qiu crouching quietly beside him, Lang Yan—as the Wolf King—couldn’t help but say a little more, remembering what the priest had told him about Lin Qiu having no memory of anything.

The great river is full of fish, but they’re hard to catch. Back when they first moved here, everyone was starving. Back then, young and old alike would head into the river, and in the end, not all of them returned.

The river’s surface is calm, but there are hidden currents beneath, and the wolf-beastmen have suffered greatly because of them.

With so many beastmen falling into the river, a rule was established that minors were not allowed to go into the water.

With food in short supply, priority was given to the beastmen who hunted and gathered, and since the sub-beastmen were not as physically robust, only the strong male beastmen were allowed to go down afterward.

Lin Qiu listened, his chin resting on the back of his hand, his fair face looking docile.

Lang Yan glanced at him; it was exactly how he remembered Lin Qiu looking as a child. Lin Qiu gazed at the calm, wide river before him.

“Have you considered any other options?”

Lang Yan withdrew his gaze. “Compared to fish, only large prey can provide a proper meal.”

Wolf-beastmen were accustomed to working together; they weren’t skilled at catching fish in small groups, and land-based prey better suited their tastes.

“If you want to eat fish in the future, just call me. Stay away from the riverbank.”

Lin Qiu: “Mm-hmm.”

“King, we want to eat fish too!” From behind, Lang Kim had somehow managed to drag Lang Bing and Lang Rong over, one on each side, shouting as they came. Lang Yan gave them a piercing look.

He’d seen clearly enough last time the tribe caught fish—the kid had been gagging while he ate.

Lin Qiu: “I can’t finish it all. I’ll share half with you guys.”

Lang Yan: “It’s fine.”

With that, he jumped back into the water.

Lang Kim: “We don’t want your fake kindness.”

Lin Qiu shot them a cold glance. Lang Kim’s eyes bulged, but before he could speak, Lang Rong clamped a hand over his mouth. Lang Bing tugged at him too, looking somewhat wary of Lin Qiu. Lin Qiu silently picked up the stone knife from the ground and gazed out at the river.

He’d just returned from hunting; after going into the river twice, his stamina was likely running low.