He’d only been back to his hometown as a child, watching his grandfather make fish traps; he’d never tried it himself. Perhaps there would be many defective ones, so he’d need to stock up on vines. Besides, to ensure a sufficient catch—at least enough to fill the beastmen’s bellies—he’d need to make ten or twenty fish traps.

Lang Mo tilted his head back. “Is this one vine enough?”

Lin Qiu blinked, accidentally scraping the stone knife against the vine. “It’s enough, but I can’t get it down.” “I’ll do it.”

Lang Mo walked over to the vine, pushed Lin Qiu aside with his paws, and bit down on the vine.

“Stand back a bit.”

Lin Qiu took a few steps back, watching as Lang Mo snapped through the vine with a series of sharp cracks, as if it were shredding rotten wood. With a loud snap, the vine snapped completely.

“Are you planning to just pull it…”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Lang Mo tugged on the vine, causing the entire tree canopy to shake.

Lin Qiu was horrified. In an instant, the sound of cracking branches came from the treetop, and leaves scattered like a flock of startled butterflies.

“Step back.” Lang Mo retreated toward Lin Qiu while still holding the vine in his mouth, continuing to pull backward. With each tug, the tree’s crown swayed as if in a storm.

The tightly coiled vines snapped taut, but ultimately couldn’t withstand Lang Mo’s strength, and the tree crashed to the ground with a thunderous roar. Along with the broken branches and leaves, they piled up in a thick layer on the ground, making it nearly impossible to walk on.

Lin Qiu：“……”

He actually has that much strength.

“Woof!” Lang Mo let out a weak cry, collapsing onto the ground and panting heavily like a broken bellows. Lin Qiu was startled and rushed over to him. “What’s wrong?”

Lang Mo stuck out his tongue, lying flat on all fours.

“I’m… so… hungry… I’ve got… no… strength… left.” His speech was halting; he couldn’t get the words out in one breath. Lin Qiu hurried back and brought him the piece of meat he hadn’t eaten.

He had made it into jerky, so it was ready to eat.

Lang Mo had indeed exhausted all his strength after his burst of energy; if not for his fur, he would be covered in cold sweat right now.

Lin Qiu offered him the meat, but he turned his head away.

“How could I possibly take your meat?”

Seeing that he was about to pass out, Lin Qiu shoved it straight into his mouth. Lang Mo chewed instinctively, gobbling it down, swallowing it in one gulp, and only belatedly realized he’d finished the meat.

He lay listlessly on the ground and said, “I can’t help you carry it back.” 

Lin Qiu: “No need.”

Once the vines were removed, it would be easy.

Once the leaves had all fallen, Lin Qiu glanced at the tree’s crown, which was now quite bare. The vines had been wrapped so tightly around the tree that they’d nearly cut into the bark; the strength Lang Mo had just displayed was almost monstrous.

This was beyond Lin Qiu’s comprehension.

If every beastman in the Wolf Tribe were like this, then that little bit of meat would indeed be a drop in the bucket.

When you’re this starved, who cares if the fish tastes good or the grass tastes good—you just have to shove it down your throat. Otherwise, with that kind of monstrous strength, even a brief exertion like Lang Mo’s had nearly caused him to pass out.

He had to weave the cage without delay.

Seeing that some life had returned to his eyes, Lin Qiu had him lie down to rest while he went off to cut the vine branches of suitable size. He stripped off the leaves, cut them into lengths of five or six meters, and tied them into bundles. He worked at this until just before nightfall.

With the vines sorted, it was time to head back.

Lin Qiu hoisted a bundle and tried to move it toward the edge of the forest. Lang Mo had slept fitfully and, just as he crawled to his feet, heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head warily.

Lang Shi was approaching with a few beastmen.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Lang Shi asked.

Lang Mo relaxed and shook the leaves off his body. “Perfect timing—give me a hand carrying this.”

Lin Qiu was carrying a bundle and motioned for Lang Shi to grab one as well. He lifted it effortlessly with one hand, which made Lin Qiu pause in surprise.

“I’ve got this.”

“Hurry back. It’s time for meat.”

As he spoke, Lang Shi grabbed the vines and placed them on his companions’ backs—four bundles each. The massive wolves, resembling small mountains, lumbered slowly toward the foot of Wolf Mountain. Lin Qiu rubbed the fresh blister on his hand and followed behind.

The vines were tossed into the water to soak, and the wolf-beastmen shook their fur before immediately gathering excitedly around the campfire. Lin Qiu went to the stream to wash his hands and saw Lang Yan approaching from a distance, carrying a piece of meat.

With his long legs, he moved quickly. Knowing that Lin Qiu would wash the meat repeatedly before eating, he brought it straight to the stream for him.

The beastmen had seen him gather so many vines. When Lang Mo mentioned he was making fish traps, Lang Yan assumed he genuinely loved eating fish. Spotting the blister on Lin Qiu’s hand, Lang Yan’s brow furrowed.

“You’re a beastman of the Wolf Tribe. They’re all your comrades—if you need help, just ask.”

“They look fierce, but they’ll help.”

Lin Qiu rubbed his sore palm, took the meat, and, though exhausted, his expression was relaxed.

“They’ve already helped. Lang Mo was the one who pulled down the vines.”

Lang Yan watched him, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He lowered his gaze slightly, then looked at Lin Qiu’s hand, which was spread open in discomfort. “Mm.”

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

The sun was just rising, and birdsong echoed through the deep forest.

Lin Qiu sat up, wrapped in an animal hide. The cub that had crawled into his arms last night was gone. His hands felt warm; he looked down to find a large handful of fur. Lin Qiu looked up abruptly and saw the beastmen staring at him strangely, but one by one, they turned and ran swiftly out of the cave.

Only then did Lin Qiu realize he was sleeping at Lang Yan’s den. So this wolf fur in his hand…

Lin Qiu rolled it between his fingers, clutching it tightly. A sharp pain shot through his palm, and he quickly loosened his grip; the fur ball rolled out of the grass nest. Lin Qiu sprang to his feet and went over to the nearby grass nest.

After folding the animal hide and hastily slipping on his straw shoes, Lin Qiu shifted his gaze to Lang Yan’s den. He paused, then picked up the fur ball inside with a seemingly calm expression and once again tucked it between the two grass nests.

He remained unfazed and calmly walked out.

But when the sunlight fell upon him, his crimson neck and earlobes gave him away completely. He hadn’t meant to.

Lin Qiu’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and the corners of his eyes turned red. He would definitely notice tonight.

A warm breeze swept through the mountains and forests, deepening the lush greenery. In the fields tended by the beastmen, the seeds they had sown had sprouted. However, the young shoots were mixed with a thicket of wild grasses, making it difficult to tell which were edible at first glance.

Lin Qiu had spent the morning in the priest’s cave. Seeing that Lang Bing was once again leading a small team out to forage, he said, “Priest, the tail grass has sprouted.” 

The priest replied, “I know.”

Lin Qiu: “There’s so much grass in there. Aren’t you going to pull it out?”

The old priest turned, holding the tortoise shell, his wide fur robe swirling in the air before settling heavily. Seeing the old priest look at him questioningly, Lin Qiu finally understood the beastmen’s farming methods.

They simply scatter the seeds, watch for them to sprout, and that’s it—afterward, they leave them to grow on their own without a second thought. It’s far too haphazard.

Lin Qiu said, “A plot of land is like a piece of meat—enough to feed only a few beastmen. But if there are many other beastmen, and they all come to share this piece of meat, will those few beastmen get their fill?”

“Those seeds were painstakingly selected by you. What good is it to tend them only until they sprout? The weeds have already drained the soil of its nutrients—what will the tail grass eat?”

The priest’s grip on his wooden staff tightened, and his expression grew grave.

“Call Lang Bing back.”

Lin Qiu, ever dutiful, called for Lang Bing.

The morning had been quite leisurely; Lin Qiu had essentially found work for himself. He mingled among a group of young beastmen, meticulously weeding the field.

Lang Mo and the others were there too; after all, they’d all dug the hole together. It was simply too large—a small team might not even be able to clear it in a single day. With the priest watching from the sidelines, the beastmen worked with the utmost care and caution.

“We never pulled the grass before. The tail grass grew mixed in with the other grasses from the start.”

Lang Bing glanced at Lin Qiu; he thought the point made sense. So he repeated what Lin Qiu had said to the priest, and the beastman’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“What are nutrients?”

Although they vaguely understood the concept, they didn’t know exactly what it was.

Lang Bing: “Maybe it’s like the meat, grass, and fish we eat. Tail grass needs to eat its own food to grow.” 

Lin Qiu was nearby; upon hearing this, his hand paused for a moment.

Pretty smart—able to apply the concept to other situations.

If it weren’t for the lack of food, the beastmen would surely have thrived with their labor and intelligence. Lin Qiu had been pulling weeds all morning, and the sun had left him dizzy and disoriented.

His fingernails were caked with mud, so as soon as the priest let him go, he rushed to the stream to wash up. Weeding wasn’t exactly easy work; Lin Qiu’s back was aching.

He glanced in the distance and saw the beastmen, still bent over in the fields pulling weeds and complaining of hunger, their eyes fixed on the ground—not a single one slacking off. Lin Qiu turned his gaze back to the vines soaking in the stream downstream.

He still had a lot of work ahead of him.

Lin Qiu always liked to take his work to the extreme; he didn’t like to cut corners. Even if he hadn’t eaten pork, he’d at least seen a pig run—his ability to learn had always been good; with just a few hands-on attempts, he’d figure it out.

He didn’t want the fish traps to be disposable; they had to be durable, so the vines needed proper treatment.

First, he had to strip the bark off and soak the vines in water until the vines reached a certain level of flexibility, so they wouldn’t break easily when used.

Lin Qiu finished processing one bundle and immediately began testing it out.

In the field, the priest could no longer stand, so he told the beastmen to rest for a while. Leaning on his wooden staff, he made his way over to Lin Qiu. Lin Qiu felt a shadow fall over him, and his eyes felt slightly more comfortable.

Hearing the crisp sound of the old priest’s wooden staff, Lin Qiu closed his eyes, a stinging sensation welling up in them.

“To make fish traps?”

Lin Qiu nodded.

It seemed someone had told the priest last night as well.

“How do you make it?”

Lin Qiu gave him a brief explanation, but could only form a rough shape with his hands—it was rather crude. Seeing this, the priest summoned a few beastmen. They were all adult sub-beastmen who guarded the tribe.

“Go ahead and have them give it a try.”

Lin Qiu nodded; an extra pair of hands was always helpful.

He plucked a few more vines, discussed the matter with the beastmen, and they all worked on it together. Seeing this, the old priest decided not to linger and strolled leisurely back to his cave.

The weather was gradually getting hotter. Once the rainy season arrived, it would rain all day, making it difficult to go out hunting. If this method worked, regardless of how many fish they caught, it would be better than having the beastmen risk their lives by jumping into the river.

With helpers now on hand, Lin Qiu discussed the tricky parts more thoroughly, and the process went smoothly.

The fish traps were simple in principle: they needed an opening that flared outward toward the bottom of the cage, wider on the outside and narrower on the inside, so that fish could swim in but not out. The beastmen experimented slowly, and their creations became increasingly refined.

In the afternoon, when it cooled down a bit, the beastmen went back to weeding. Lin Qiu left only one sub-beastman behind—he had the most dexterous hands.

“Aren’t you going over there?” Lin Qiu asked.

The sub-beastman looked up and smiled at him, his fingers moving nimbly as the vines clashed together, producing a crisp sound.

Lin Qiu set the one he’d made aside, massaging his aching fingertips, and watched quietly.

The sub-beastman’s name was An; he was a Black Wolf Beastman.

His natural skin tone was likely a warm white, though his complexion was sallow. His long, slightly curly hair fell down his back; though it had turned a bit dry and yellow, it was still quite handsome. Earlier, when Lang Mo and the others were setting up a fire to cook, it was An who led the other sub-beastmen in the work. He was a dexterous and meticulous beastman.

Lang An finished assembling the fish traps the group had built together, then took out some leather cord from the tribe and looped it around the traps. Lin Qiu said, “Let’s give it a try tonight and see if it works.”

Lang An smiled, a faint dimple appearing at the corner of his cheek.